Miriacle Sunday

Isaiah 29:16 -- "You have turned things around, as if the potter were the same as the clay."

The shops are filled with mothers finding new dresses for their daughters. Father and sons look for new neck-ties and forget about trying to get into the shoe department. Posters with cute bunnies and brightly colored eggs are everywhere and you HAVE to get tot he grocery store for the special on spiral cut ham before they are all gone. [which I really, actually have yet to do.]  Eggs and food coloring are all but sold out and so is that fake plastic grass.

It's Easter.

I remember another Easter.

Taking a Sunday stroll after services, the five of us in the Babb house-hold drove down some old dirt roads towards Times Beach on the east coast of Mindanao. It was a slow drive because hundreds of people lined the street in an Easter procession.  Earnest faces looked into the car windows with tears streaming down their cheeks and some collected dust from the road and poured it over their heads.  In the center, were angry looking men with whips and batons, following a single man carrying a very real and very heavy cross.  Blood from the whips mingled with the sweat on his back and streaks of blood ran down his face from the very real crown of thorns pressed into his scalp.

I couldn't take my eyes off of this odd and painful "parade".  I saw such pure devotion in the eyes of everyone in the crowd, dragging their feet in the scorching Sunday heat. Crying out loud and raising their arms toward Heaven.

Even though this happened every single Easter, I couldn't wrap my head around the people who volunteered to put themselves through the pain, through the heat exhaustion and dehydration.  They really DID nail themselves to that cross they were carrying and would hang there for hours. And yes, it did on occasion cause someone's death, but year after year, they would make this journey.  It was, to my young eyes, both beautiful and sad.

Beautiful that any human being could reach out and with complete devotion try to touch that humanity in Jesus Christ as he willingly took the path to the cross to die with all of our sin.  And sad, because, they couldn't get anywhere close. Knowing the sentiment might have been sincere, it didn't detract from the reality that the victory had already been won and there was no way to duplicate it, even in what some would consider a reverent demonstration. Were they worshiping our Jesus?  Or were they shining the spot light so brightly on themselves and their own pain that they forgot what it was really all about.  Wouldn't it have been more reverent to focus on Jesus in a private setting without a gawking crowd to cry and moan for us?  And did they not realize that all they needed to reach out to Jesus was ask for Him.  Call His name and accept grace?

I can't answer that question, really.  And I can't know what was really in the hearts of all those people.  But I KNOW, God turned things around.  The potter DID become the clay and the clay made a vessel in which all the grace and mercy could be brought to the rest of us.  We could not carry it.  Something new had to be created, shaped and molded into pottery that was made of stuff strong enough, pure enough, and perfect enough to carry it to the cross.

Not terribly unlike a last-minute interception and surprising touch-down with a field goal kicked to top it off - Jesus turned our score board around completely.  In the lengthy column of all  the reasons we can't be with God and see Jesus face to face, there is now a big fat ZERO. A shiny goose egg that encapsulates all of our wrong doing, all of our attempts at sacrifice and purification.  Next to it, Jesus is standing with an giant eraser. He is our victory. Our ONLY victory.

Picking  up a couple of Russell Stover chocolate bunnies
and putting them into my cart, I remember Easter. I look at the Easter Lillies piled up at the registers. I see the girls in pretty little hats with big bows and flowers and I remember Easter.  The REAL Easter.  I am so very, very thankful that God turned it around. That the precious blood of Jesus Christ was shed for me, for you, for all of us.

40 Courageous!

Isaiah 43:1b -- "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine."

Sunrise at Ponte Vedra

The grating sound of the alarm put and end to my sleep, fitful though it was, and I willed myself out of the bed and into the morning. I really just want to lay back down and close my eyes again.

So many things change when you're forty. Or at least, I think they do. As women, as mothers and in my case, home educator - we are working ourselves OUT of a job. I think we are the only people who really do that.  From the moment our happy little bouncing bundles are born, to the day they walk down the isle, our every effort is poured into nurture, care, growth, education and most importantly, showing them the way from which God says they will not depart. If we do our jobs and do them well, our focus will one day walk out the door and go forge a service for the Lord on their own.  Then......what do we do?

I tell my friends I'm the slowest person on the planet and it's true when it comes to actually working through things.  Things like.....I turned forty on my last birthday....which was almost a whole year ago. But today, padding through the house looking for the energy to get my  motor started it REALLY hit me.  I'm forty.  I FEEL forty.  My oldest has already met the woman he's going to marry.  My youngest one learns to drive this year....WOW.

So, for the past -- well, going on twenty years, now -- my identity has been, MOM. Yes, I am also wife, but I don't have to stand over Steven 24/7 to make sure he's turning into a man of God and a responsible, productive human being. So...this HUGE piece of who I am is about to disappear.  I feel my heart beat pick up and the little beads of sweat pop out over my upper lip.

Then I read the verse. Fear not, it says. I have summoned you by name. You are mine.

THAT is comfort if ever there existed any.  I have been redeemed, called by name. So....I CAN "fear not".

It's true that I'm about to embark on uncharted territory. I'll become mother-in-law, grandmother at some  point, and.....an empty-nester. But there are millions upon millions of women who have done this before me [including my own amazing mother]and there will be million upon millions of women who do this after me.... and God said to me today....that I am His.

THAT is who I am.  I am HIS.

In Awe

Jeremiah 33:9 -- "They will tremble with awe because of all the good and all the peace I will bring about for them." 

Even though we put two blankets on the ground beneath us, the damp cold seeped right through.  Steven and I leaned into on another, hoping to share some heat, but our teeth chattered away, anyway.  It was beautiful. The two of us, hiding out in the back yard on the pond bank, looking up at a dazzling sky, counting shooting stars from the meteor shower.  The moon was a little on the bright side, so we did have some light pollution, but we were still able to witness four of those amazing aliens bouncing off the earth's atmosphere.

We sat in awe.

Sunset over the pond in our back yard

We trembled. And not just from the cold.

This year, in August, Steven and I will celebrate our sixteenth wedding anniversary. We've been through much together. [oh, so very much]  We are in awe of the good and the peace that God has brought about for us. We tremble at the sheer amazing grace and that somehow God can calm a raging storm, and then, give us a rainbow. We are in awe that our children cling to Christ. We tremble when we see evidence of God working in their lives and rejoice with them when they claim a victory in Him.

We spent many, many years deep in the muck of our own mistakes and poor choices.  But on this night, we sit on the bank of our pond and watch the world turn in the skies above us.  And we are in awe.

I am in awe. And I am so very, very grateful for God's amazing good and glorious peace.

I Can Sing!!

Psalm 63:1 -- "My body faints for You in a land that is dry, desolate, and without water."

There is nothing like the feeling of riding down busy San Jose, listening to Christian Radio on the way to Newk's in the company of my two dearest friends on Girl's Night.  No comparison. I revel in the moment.  We talk, these ladies and I.  I have been blessed with their friendship for more than ten years now, and every moment is like a rich dessert.  I savor. I linger over the smoothness and the sweet.

We talk about singing. I remember the busy days of singing at weddings, as guest vocalists for churches that I hadn't even heard of, and....of being televised for an Easter Special as I belted out one of my favorites, Feel The Nails by Ray Boltz.  I remember and share with them the days of being invited to record in a studeo in Nashville, and being so nervous when I got there and stepped up to the Mic.

This was in another life.

I don't sing anymore. [Publicly]

My friend says to me...."I didn't know you could sing!"

Really?  I've known this woman for YEARS.  How could she not know that I sing?

Because I haven't.  In a very, long time.

A very long story....I'll skip to the punch line....I've allowed some hurt feelings and not a little bitterness to keep me from praising the Lord with a gift that He has given to me.  I didn't even realize how very long it's been since I've bumped elbows with fellow choir members and harmonized in praise and worship, voices lifted humbly and eagerly to God. I thirst for those long-lost and deeply missed moments and my mind flashes back to an elderly woman, approaching me after I sung at First Baptist Church of Dickson, Tennessee -  how she grabbed my hand in both of hers with tears in her eyes as she thanked me for singing for the Lord. She expressed that she could hear Him speak to her in the music.

THAT is what it's all about.  Being a vessel through which Jesus reaches people.  I'd somehow forgotten that.  I'd let personal pain and selfishness push that away from my heart and mind.

But just like Girl's Night, just like the rain on the grass, and my daily bread, my body faints for that service.  My soul desires Jesus in a dry, desolate land without water.

I was reminded of that.  It's time to take the voice, the worship, the service out of the shower and back into the hands of God.

Life Is Short, Eat Dessert First!

I Corinthians 7 29a,31 -- "But this I say, brethren, the time has been shortened, so that from now on...those who use the world should be as though they did not make full use of it; for the time of this world is passing."

After a full week of family synchronized coughing, sneezing, chilling, moaning, tissue-using, blanket-wearing misery, I look about the after-math and see a forgotten battle field in a long-lost war zone. Empty paint  buckets [for those stomach emergencies], throat lozenge wrappers, pop-cicle sticks, and I kid you not, one Progresso soup can top litter the floor underneath, in between, and wrapped inside of a plethora of blankets. [I had no idea we even HAD that many blankets. We live in Florida, for crying out loud.]  I'm itching to vacuum the floor but I have no idea where it is.  The television console has a layer of dust thick enough for the bunnies in it to build a snow-man, and let's not get me started on what the kitchen looks like. [I think someone's soup exploded in the microwave].  I sigh deep. Fever broken but muscles exhausted, I start cleaning it all up.  And then I remember that I have endeavored to be a thankful soul and thank the Lord that I AM up and moving about, now.

Jaw set in determination, I start in the living room.

Tyler, in Zombie form, shuffles in from sleep and plops down on the couch.  In an instant, in full fledged animated vigor he begins telling me about his victory and lordship over the boss battle in Borderlands. "Mom," he says, "PLEASE join me for a minute.  You've GOT to see this...and I can level you up in a snap. Your character will have major XP points!"

His big beautiful amber eyes are looking up at me in wiggly anime' fashion.  I'm really thinking that I'm just going to tell him the game can wait until I get this disaster cleaned up, but I stop short of those words. My babiest baby will be fifteen next week.  He's not always going to beg me to sit down and play a video game with him.  Right NOW, he is, and right NOW, I CAN.

So we play.

For the time of this world, of this stage in Tyler's life, of the physical stage in mine [I AM getting older], of this point on the Dalton family time-line, is passing. I must make full use of it, as if I've never known the full use of it.

When my husband still worked down-down in Jacksonville, he stopped at the cross-walk that lead to his building and waited for the flashing red hand to turn into a little white stick-figure blinking in "walk" motion. And that's when he heard the breaks screaming and the tires squealing in every rubber effort to stop.  But it was too late.  One of Steven's co-workers, heading to work just like he was, crossing the street further down the strip, stepped out in front of a stopped public bus and didn't see the car speeding around to pass it. The co-worker was killed instantly. It would be days before my husband could get around the shock of that moment.  That morning, as Steven kissed me and the boys good-bye, just like he did every morning, his co-worker had done the same thing at his house, with his wife and children.  And that was the last time they would ever see him alive.

We are not promised that we will have tomorrow.  We are not promised that we will get home safely from work.  That we will get the house clean so we can later play. That we will have a second opportunity to share Jesus with our cube-mate, our neighbor, or fellow class-mate.  The time of this world is passing.  We need to make full use of it....use every moment in it like there's no tomorrow.  Because you never know when there really won't be one.

Simply Satisfied

Jeremiah 31:25 -- "For I satisfy the thirsty person and feed all those who are weak."

Digging around in the bead drawer I have dubbed "Amethyst Chips" I find my heart sinking just a little. It doesn't take me long to come up with the new earring design, put the pair together, photograph them, card them, and then put them into my stock cabinet.  Where I know they will sit, and sit, and sit.  I had every plan to attend the HERI home school convention this year as a vendor. It would have been my first experience as a vendor and I was very excited about getting the CobbleStone Creations name out there and hoped to sell some of the stock I've been accumulating.  But I prayed.....very specifically about the convention.  I put out my fleece, as it were, and asked God to feel free to use a big fat Sharpie marker on it.  I often need things spelled out very clearly for me. Especially when it comes to prayer.

And...well, I won't be a vendor at HERI this year.  I hope to do it next year.

In one of the Bible studies I did not too long ago I was asked this question: Can you think of anything that you've worked hard to attain that didn't bring you the satisfaction you thought it would?  It wasn't too much longer after I mulled that one over that I was asked this: What might God be trying to grow in your character or cement in your relationship with Him by keeping you separated from some of the things/traits you want but don't yet have?

A CobbleStone Creations Original

Now for me...the are two HUGE questions.

When I read the verse in Jeremiah.....that God will satisfy the thirsty person and feed all the those who are weak, it stuck in my head that I have the answers to those two huge questions.  It might not really be the answer I was looking for, but it is, indeed, the answer I NEED.  On this, God never fails to provide.

Maybe, I'm not thirsty for the right things.  I've poured heart and soul...blood, sweat, and tears [maybe not the blood part] into my own business and product labels.  I so long to see it grow. Both boys have amazing ideas where designing jewelry is concerned and Brian's one-day-bride is so very talented in this area.  My hope is to get the ball rolling and then let them roll with it.  But in today's verse, I find that God IS my satisfaction.  He, and He alone, is what my hungry spirit longs to have.  He says, in sooooo many different ways through out His Word that, He is THE thirst quencher.

So....closing the stock cabinet, I am reminded that....perhaps, my focus is not on the things I know it should be.  If I allow things in my life....like my company....to get in the way of the things God wants me to be doing...then it's true....I'm not thirsting for the right things -- which really means, that one thirsty part of me will remain just that....thirsty.

God satisfies the thirsty person.  Always.

So with that.....I thank the Lord that he has given me the joy of designing fashion accessories, close the cabinet securely, and wait on Him to tell me what He wants me to do with it.

Brand Spakin' New

II Corinthians 5:17 -- "Therefore if any man is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come."

At Gainesville taken by Kelly Babb Dalton

Walking through the butterfly garden at the University of Florida in Gainesville is one my favorite things to do. Camera at the ready, I snap away, capturing all the colorful flitting of wings that I possibly can. I love pressing my face up against the glass like a kid, to watch the fat little caterpillars chew their way through tons of green leaves. It’s hard to picture the stout and sometimes creepy looking worms as a beautiful winged creature with multi-faceted hues and boundless elegance. But sure enough, as I stand there, one of the cocoons hanging from a wire mesh starts to wiggle and gingerly, out struggles a gorgeous Blue Morpho.

This is what happens to us when we are born again in Christ. We are no longer the fat little caterpillar, hungrily devouring our way through life with an endless starvation for something more. We ARE more. As we accept God’s grace through the shed blood of Jesus we pop out of that cocoon a brand new creature.  We don’t resemble the thing we once were. Eating everything in sight but never having enough. Chewing and chewing against an interminable hunger that is never satisfied.  

At Gainesville taken by Kelly Babb Dalton

Instead, we are beautifully, blessedly different. The constant struggle for SELF-fulfillment is no longer our number one priority.  We are new.  We now have purpose. We unfurl our grace granted wings and spread out into the world to share, to give, to serve. There are many plants on this great blue marble that would die out if it weren't for the work of the butterfly.  A task usually thought to belong only to bees, butterflies disturb and distribute pollen when they set their tiny feet down on flower petals.  Then when they move on to another flower, they carry with them the needed contribution of the plant previously visited so growth, bud and blossom can stretch out their green toward the face of the brilliant sun once again. Anew. Bright and lush with life.

At Gainesville taken by Kelly Babb Dalton

One afternoon as I struggled to pack the rest of my things into the suitcase I would take back to the dorm with me, I finally let loose the tears.  I hated being over six hundred miles away from Davao, from my parents and my little brother.  I hated the sometimes cruel words of the other girls at our Christian, Missionary Kid school. I begged my parents to allow me to be homeschooled but they insisted I go.

My Dad came in.  In his hand he held a coffee mug that he used ALL the time.  On it there was a caterpillar and a butterfly.  In between the two in graceful calligraphy were the words "Jesus gives new life" and underneath those words was the verse II Corinthian 5:17.  "Behold, new things have come."  Old things pass away.  He said to me, in that hushed conspiratory voice he sometimes had, "you forgot this", and he gave me his gift of encouragement.

At Gainesville taken by Kelly Babb Dalton

I couldn't spend my entire life curled up in a ball inside my own room with a tear-stained face.  I wasn't a caterpillar anymore.  I had to fly forward, even if my wings hadn't fully unfurled yet and had a few wrinkles to be worked free.  It's tempting to want to help the butterfly come out of the cocoon. I'm sure that, as I stood there, leaning up against my Dad with huge tears streaming down my cheeks he wanted to be able to allow me to stay home and finish out high school. But, just like the butterfly breaking free of the old shelter of the cocoon, struggle is necessary for strength and growth. It's part of becoming a new creature.  Paul tells us that over and over again.  In my weakness, God is strong.

I learned not to hang on the old shelter.  The old has passed away.  Behold, new things have come.

I sit with my hands wrapped around that mug and have my morning coffee. It's old and yellowed with a chip on the rim where I have to be careful where I take my sip of morning joe....but it still makes me smile.

The Music Box Dancer

Psalm 131:2 -- "Surely I have composed and quieted my soul; like a weaned child rests against his mother."

The sun tries to climb up over the horizon and the morning has that still feeling to it.  The wind isn't blowing, and the Starlings that mob my bird feeders haven't come out of the neighbor's tree yet.  Sitting in the wood rocker on the back porch, I take a deep breath.  I can smell the ocean.  I love that smell.  I love mornings like these.  The ones that start off quiet and still with the ocean dancing in on the air.

Female Downy Woodpecker

As I take a sip of coffee from my favorite cup I see my Downy Woodpecker female timidly approach the suet I hung in the little Magnolia tree next to the pond.  I smile.  I haven't seen her in a while because the Starlings [an introduced species, by the way] tend to run her off.

I have composed a quiet soul this morning.  I have to admit that it doesn't happen very often.

On this morning as I breath in the beach and witness the world begin wake up, The Music Box Dancer playes around in my head and I think of something the theologian, John Calvin said. "The stability of the world depends on this rejoicing of God in His works."

I hear the old, wooden legs of the rocker creek against the stone tiles on the porch.  I'm watching the wonders of God's works all around me.  The female wood pecker takes off, the Canadian geese [whom I have very cleverly dubbed Mr. & Mrs. Canada] come up to the porch door and honk for me to give them breakfast [yes, they have me well trained].  The rest of the house-hold is still asleep and I have time to be still. To be thankful.

I ponder a world without stability, a world with economies crashing in crumbled, crushed dreams, a world full of wars fought over power and land-hungry men, a world in which people get cancer and marriages fall apart.  A world that can very truly only be stable when rejoicing in God.

This morning, before the crazy starts and I get all caught up in it....I sit on the back porch with a quiet soul and marvel in the glory of God.  The stability of my day depends on this moment.  The stability of the whole world depends on each one of us rejoicing in God and His works.

Home, Sweet Somewhere

Psalm 119:36-37 -- "Turn my heart toward your statutes and not toward selfish gain.  Turn my eyes away from worthless things; renew my life according to your Word."

Those of you who know me know that I published a book called "Home Sweet Somewhere" a while back. In my thinking, there is no way to better describe us -- weather we be Missionary Kids, Seminary Students, Choir members.....or really, any other function within the body of Christ here on earth.  Because, we are, indeed, aliens.  We don't really belong here.  Our home is waiting for us when we get to meet Jesus face to face.

Do we, as aliens, do things that don't reflect Christ because we want to fit in?

Eyes closed from extreme jet lag, I barely noticed rubber bouncing off black top underneath me and the captain announcing our arrival at the airport in Vancouver, Canada.   We had been in the belly of this steel bird for eighteen -- count 'em -- EIGHTEEN hours.  The last time my feet were anywhere near earth was when we took off from the air port in Hong Kong.

I'm not sure I would have opened my eyes anyway.  Jet Lag was a good excuse to ignore the world around me.....because I was angry at everyone.  Only a couple of days ago I had to say good bye to everything and everyone that represented home to me.  I grew up on tropic sands, underneath coconut palms nestled next to rice patties, surrounded by some of the most beautiful people I was ever to meet.  When the door to this plane opened with that all too-familiar hiss and popping of ears from the change in pressure.....a horrifying new "home" awaited.  Nope.....I think I'll just remain in my original and upright position with my eyes tightly shut against it all.

You could say, I didn't have a very good attitude.

Being an angry and anxty seventeen, I made some pretty horrible decisions in my struggle to "find my feet" as it were.  I never asked to be dragged all around the globe, up rooted from what most people would consider "home" and then transplanted onto foreign soil.  But then, growing a few roots while there....I never asked to be uprooted and transplanted back, either.  You could say....I was a wee bit on the bitter side.  I didn't REALLY belong in the Philippines, I knew that.  But I sure didn't belong here, either.

I was horribly, horribly uncomfortable. Feeling more than a little disoriented I did some pretty crazy things in an effort to make this new life....this new place.....my home.  No, I didn't go out and party, start in on the booze and drugs...nothing like that.  My rebellion was a bit more subtle.

I became obsessed with trying to fit in. I dated the wrong kind of people because I thought they were cool.  I hung out with some of my co-workers who frequented bars because I desperately wanted to be part of the group. [I would say I was going to be designated driver]. If the girls talked trashy a little in order to flirt....I would do the same thing. [Sorry, Mom & Dad...but it's true].  And, like a lot of  you fellow M.K's out there....I even rushed into a marriage without asking if it was what God really wanted of me...just so I could have a home.  A place to belong. [Note to all you young girls out there....WAIT on the Lord.  It really, really matters!]

My heart, was not focused on the Lord.  It was focused on me.  On how I FELT.  On what I looked like, on what title I might hold at a job.  It was a while before I came across this verse and was ready to give my anger to God.

"Renew my life according to your Word."

I needed renewal.  I wanted to fit in....but the thing I learned was.....I'm not ever going to.  And I'm not supposed to want to.  Paul tells us several times through out his letters to the churches to "be not of this world".  We don't belong here.

If I think about it....I'm kind of glad I don't fit in.  Maybe it should scare me a little if there comes a time in my life when I think I do.

So I pray this verse a lot, now.  "Lord, keep me focused on your statues."  YOUR home for me, is the only one I really want.

Fruity Lips

Hebrews 13:15 -- "Through Him then, let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that give thanks to His name."  

As the dust of the dirt road billowed at our feet and the tops of our heads grew hot in the tropic sunshine, my kindred spirit and I found our favorite bolder and climbed to the top.  Frozen goats milk hung from our mouths in skinny plastic bags so we could free up our hands for the climb.

Mountainous Mindanao, Philippines

At the top, we sat there, side by side, enjoying our goatmilk-cicles and the wide open view of corn, sugarcane,  rice, and gabillions of coconut trees.  She was my best friend.  I remember meeting her for the first time, the introduction had barely been uttered and the two of us bounded off into our own adventures, never again apart, really.  Sure, physical miles might come between us and our parents would retire from the mission field in two different States....but none of that ever mattered.

I was given the wonderful blessing of chatting with her yesterday.  We caught up on the goings on in one another's lives and as always, the miles and the time between us didn't matter.  It was pure joy to hear her voice.

And THAT, is what I wanted to share.  Her voice.  I know you can't hear it....but I was, and am frequently, amazed by this wonder woman.

The single mother of a fantastic little girl, my dear friend tells me how the Lord has provided for her in some pretty incredible ways.  She had been telling me about some pretty rough situations she's had to battle through and I kind of sat there, phone pressed tightly against my ear, with my jaw hanging open.  The thing is, she was thankful.  She stood firm in confidence that God would see her though and make sure that she and her daughter have everything they need.  This is no small task.  Some of her hurdles of late have been more like mountains, but she didn't even blink at them.  She shared with me concerns, prayer requests [all of them centered around her daughter, none of them about herself]....and then claimed her victory. She KNOWS, God's got her back. ....AND you could hear it in her voice.  Her lips bore the fruit of thanks.

It is not always easy to be thankful.  EVERYBODY knows that. I think, that's why the verse up there at the top of this page says to let us offer up a sacrifice of praise.  Sometimes it is, indeed, a sacrifice.

There were so many moments in our conversation [and in her life] that she could have done what she WANTED to do.  Go home to Mom and Dad, write an angry letter to the father of her little girl, curl up in a little ball and just give-up.  But she didn't DO any of that.  She offered up thanks to God for all He's done for her and her daughter.

In A Short History of England Gilbert Keith Chesterton says: "I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder."

How TRUE!

After the hour and some odd I spent on the phone with my wonder-Mom-friend and the battery on her phone died our good-byes for us, I thanked the Lord that I was blessed by such an incredible friend.  ...and I was reminded to "continually offer up a sacrifice of praise."

Jar of Marbles

Matthew 6:33 -- "But Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added to you."

 When I was still in high school in the Philippines - a friend of mine from science class told me about a jar of marbles.  He said he was using it to represent space .... or maybe it was something about physics....I can't even remember, now. What I DO remember, was how it perfectly demonstrated this verse in Matthew.  Here's how it went:
 
          Take 1 large baby food jar [empty & cleaned of baby food]
          1 bag of regular sized glass marbles
          1 shooter [that's what they call the really big marbles]

Put all the small marbles and the shooter that will fit into the jar and allow the lid to fully close.  This might sound simple, but there IS in fact a trick to it.  In front of our church congregation one evening I did it like this:

I held up the empty jar.  "The jar, is a single day in my life.  I start the day with an empty jar.  Then......I get up and brush my teeth." I picked up a small marble and put it in the jar.  "Then maybe I get a shower."  In goes another jar. "Eat breakfast, get ready for school, go to class...." for each thing that filled my day, I placed one small marble in the jar. "Well, time to hit the sack so I can do all this again tomorrow....but OH!!!  I have to have my personal time with God, read His Word and Pray......" In goes the large marble. At this point, I attempt to put the lid on the jar and tighten it down.  Nothing doing.  With the large marble [God] going into the jar last, the lid just will not close.  So I say......

"Well, now let's see.  This DOES work, I did it before I got here...." I ran through the whole thing again, maybe getting my shower first before I brush my teeth and cramming God into the jar at lunch break while still at school.  Nope.  The jar still won't close.  After doing this a couple more times....I try it with the large marble FIRST.

Eureka!!  The lid closes tightly and perfectly.

Things just don't fall into place properly without God at the helm.  He HAS to be first in our lives.

The first chapter of Romans explains that God is evident everywhere.  All we have to do is look around us at His handwork.  In verse 19 it ACTUALLY says that God is obvious.  We have no excuses.  We can't claim we can't find Him. It goes on to say that while it is plain God has provided for us, there are those of us who deliberately choose NOT to do the things He would have of us.  Some people actually choose NOT to see God nor do they accept Jesus. By the time we get to verses 21 all the way until the end of the chapter, we learn that for those people....God gave them what they wanted.  He allowed them to live in a way that "they asked for".  A life without Him in it.  These people were thrust into the darkness.

Seeking FIRST God's kingdom is also one of these "no-brainers". The lid will not fit onto the jar as it was intended unless the shooter is put in first.  In verse 21 of Romans 1 - Paul says it like this: "For even though they knew God, they did not honor Him as God, or give thanks; but they became futile in their speculations, and their foolish heart was darkened."

This applies right now today every bit as much as it did during Paul's life time.  I'm going to use Eve as an example.  She was given EVERYTHING. Food to eat, a dude that loved her, time to walk with God, childbirth without pain.  And what did she do?  Well, even though she knew God, she wasn't thankful for what she had.  Instead, she wanted the ONE thing God didn't give her.  And so....she got what she wanted.  Her foolish heart was darkened.  She allowed herself to take her focus away from God and put it onto other things.  She was not thankful. She was not content.

If every single day when we open our sleepy eyes we say to the Lord...."I choose THIS day to serve You!" [Joshua 24:15] the lid will fit perfectly onto the jar of our lives.  If we choose to seek FIRST God's kingdom, to honor Him as God and give thanks.....we will not have foolish darkened hearts.  But wonderful brightly lit joy with all our marbles in tact!

Groaning Deep

Romans 8:26 -- "And in the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words."

 

Tyler Wayne Dalton 1998 -- 16" 4.7lbs

Watching the steam rise up in billows around me, I took deep breaths in through my nose and blew them out with trembling lips as I scrubbed down from bicept to finger tips with the pre-packaged, sanitized sponge brush and acidic anti-everything hospital soap.  Steven did the same at his sink next to me.  We looked at one another and held each others gaze, attempting to steel ourselves in ready to walk through the huge doors of the NICU [Neo-Natal Intensive Care Unit] at the University Hospital in Jacksonville. Double checking our anit-everything hermetically sealed jump suits, we commanded the tears to stop and walked into the most precious of all hospital wards on the planet.

Immediately bombarded by beeping and mechanical breathing, a sound that actually became a comfort to me, we walked around the tiny plastic boxes with precious tiny bundles in them until we came to the "bedside" of our son.  In spite of the nurses gently asking us to try to hold ourselves in check, the tears flowed freely. [The nurses weren't being mean, but when one parent let loose.....all of them were likely to follow.]

It was April 5th. Yesterday, in Orange Park, in forty-five minutes this little person came into the world without so much as a cry [because he couldn't] and was immediately rushed to Jacksonville.  Like I said, it was April 5th. Tyler Wayne Dalton was actually DUE on June 2nd. So early was his arrival that his lungs hadn't fully developed and the large machine to my left was breathing for him.  He weighed in at a whopping four pounds and some change.  His entire leg from hip to toe-tip was the length of my thumb.

His Daddy and I just stood across from one another, looking at this tiny little person through blurry, tear-filled eyes.  I didn't even get to hold him when he was born and Steven was barely given a proper introduction to his new born son because they had to get him hooked up to all these life-giving cords and wires.

It was then, at that moment of heart-break and torment that I, Ms. Writer, Ms. Spinner of Art With Words, just stood there....completely silent.  Utterly speechless.  For...."I did not know how to pray as I should".  With all of my heart I wanted to be selfish.  God, PLEASE, let me have this little bundle to hold close to me and raise into a man that serves You.  God PLEASE don't take this baby away from his Daddy.  And in the words of Mark Shultz "God, he's not just anyone, he's my son." [I still cannot listen to that song without crying].

And here is where the Lord really did pick us up and carry us, where we only see one set of footprints in the sand because Steven and I couldn't even crawl at that point.  The Spirit Himself interceded for us with groanings even deeper than our own. 

Tyler Wayne Dalton 2013 -- 6', 168 lbs

...and I learned obedience.

At home alone, [Steven was at work and Brian was visiting Grandma] I curled up in the floor of the shower and cried my heart out.  "God, thank you for letting me experience Tyler for the past seven months.  Thank you for that joy, that hope, and that promise. If that is the sum of the gift you have given us, then I will serve you obediently, though it will be in grief.  I will thank you for that gift.  I will also be heart-broken....but I will be your servant."

...and the Spirit interceded for us with groanings too deep for words.

After a month and some odd days in the NICU we brought Tyler home.  He would be on a heart monitor for a while, and neither of us got much sleep for listening out for his breathing......and  for a happier sleeplessness I could never ask!

I think Amy Grant sums it up nicely when she sings "God loves a lullaby in a mother's tears in the dead of night, better than a hallelujah sometimes." Because....I didn't know to pray as I should, the Spirit interceded.  I couldn't pray because I was crying very deeply.  I love that God will carry us when we can't walk.  HE loves when we totally, completely and utterly NEED Him.

I am thankful for THAT.






 

The Grateful.....Living

Psalm 95:2 -- "Let us come before Him with thanksgiving and extol Him with music and song."

"One Thousand Gifts." The three guys and I were strolling around Barnes & Noble the other day when I saw this little unassuming book in the Christian Life section.  I was intrigued.  I couldn't help but pick it up and found out who Ann Voskamp was.  ...as it turns out....I'm very glad I did.

Wife, Mom, and Homeschool Teacher to a farming family, Ann inspired a quote that I would like to share.....as she's describing what looks to her to be slim pickin's from a crop field she says.."Whenever the wind sighed, the whole field just rattled skinny."  She later learned, after the combine's engine rolled to a stop...that the yield of beans was much greater than she had imagined and she talks much about thanks....about one thousand gifts.

The rest of the entry was equally inspiring.  My heart, however, clung to that one line. "Whenever the wind sighed, the whole field just rattled skinny."

I think there are so many times that make me FEEL like my field just rattles skinny.  That can apply to so many areas of my life...as I see it....am I rattling skinny for God?  Is our wallet rattling skinny when we have more month than income?  Is my physical state rattling skinny as I struggle with some chronic health issues?  And what about my outlook?....yep...it's definitely rattling skinny.  But, like Ann expressed so beautifully......perhaps my yield is, in fact, greater than I might see it.  She dared me......just like a friend dared her..... to list one thousand gifts, one thousand graces for which God has given me reason to be thankful.

THOSE words hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks. Ya know, I never realized this....but more often than not, I think I'm a glass half empty person.  When I work on my sketching, or my writing, or create jewelry, or cook.......or teach the kids.....or do housework.....or balance our budget.......[you get the picture here, I could go on and on]....I find the things that, in my opinion, didn't go right.  My pencil lines are too thick, I wasn't expressive enough, my eye pin closures aren't tight enough.....etc. etc. etc.

Perhaps it's time to take the challenge. Count the many, many ways in which my life rattles fat with a fantastic harvest.

I love the book of Psalm for this [ok, I just plain love the book of Psalm, let's be honest]......because most of it was penned by a very human man named David. And there are a plethora of thanks oriented verses.  One of my favorites?  "Let us come before Him with thanksgiving and extol Him with music and song."  It does NOT say .... let us come before Him when we feel that we have a reason to be thankful.  Let us sing when our hearts feel light and we're in a good mood.  It simply says BE THANKFUL.

I'm gonna' take that dare.  I dare YOU, too.  Look at the small things, the big things, the in between things and watch your field rattle fat.  ....ya know what?  I'm thankful for the internet blogging.  How cool is THAT? When I first started writing I used a pencil and a notebook.  Then I had this manual typewriter.....then an electric typewriter.....WOW....internet blogging!!!  SWEET!

Go on.......make your list.  EVERY day.  [get Ann Voskamp's "One Thousand Gifts"].  Let the wind sigh in your life.....let the wind HOWL in your life and watch that field of yours rattle round and robust.

Control, Alt, Delete

John 19:30 -- "It is finished"

In my previous blog "Bear With .... Everyone?" I brought up the subject of forgiveness. In my personal devo today forgiveness was, once again, the main topic.  At first I wondered what I'd missed about this life lesson but then it was brought to my attention that forgiveness isn't a one-way street. Sometimes the hardest thing we are faced with is to forgive ourselves.

I can identify completely.

I don't talk about this much outside a very few and close-knit circle of loved ones but it bares sharing, I think.

Ages ago it seems, I was the sole office administrator for the district hub of a large insurance company. The office was the backbone for the entire North/East of the state AND our particular district was one of the largest and most profitable branches of the company nationwide. My training and years of experience in this field of management singled me out form the countless others that had applied for the job and I was hired into one of the most challenging positions I've ever taken.  There were many nights I would come home and just collapse into a heap of sobbing mess, second guessing my abilities and my decision to take the job.  Steven was amazingly supportive and even the boys were sympathetic and encouraging. With the family in full support behind me....I was determined, and pushed forward with the strength of a steam locomotive.  FINALLY, I reached a point when I had gained the confidence and the trust of those around me and had grown comfortable and efficiently into the role.

And that's when the rug was pulled out from under me. The district manager came in one afternoon to review some financial statements that I had prepared for him and it was only seconds into his review that he came to the office door and said he needed to see me.  I thought nothing of it....I obliged. The atmosphere in the office began to shift slightly and I could feel a tension in his manner - then he pointed out a $4,000.00 mistake.  That's right....FOUR THOUSAND DOLLARS! I felt my heart drop into the bottom of my stomach and I just stood there blinking for a moment.  What in the world happened?

I spent ALL of that afternoon trying to find the paper trail that would somehow point to the offending cause of this mistake so I could rectify the situation....but it was to no avail.  I spent hours on the phone with the company that billed us for the said four thousand dollars only to be told that there was nothing they could do about it, the bill had already been paid.  I was devastated.  I told my boss that I would handle it.  I would do everything in my power to remedy the account..EVEN, take it out of my own pocket if necessary.

The next morning came, I was a frazzled mess with a very upset stomach, and when I reached my desk the district manager came to me and informed me that it was not in the company's best interest to keep me.  Internally, I actually agreed with him - but I was still so completely devastated. For the life of me, I couldn't find how to fix this thing. It was my fault, there didn't seem to be any getting around that....but I could not find out what I'd done to mess things up this badly.  I asked the district manager to forgive me and told him that somehow, I would find a way to make it right - even though I was no longer employed.

He then told me that he felt like I was a Godly woman and that he wished me the best.  But he never said the words I so very much longed to hear.  "I forgive you." I was crushed. I almost declined my final pay check but thought better of it because of family commitments at the time.

The tough part?  I have never been able to forgive myself.  Even though it was years ago, I still have bad dreams.  I wake up in the middle of the night so very disappointed in myself.  And what's worse....I introduced myself as a Christan.  A woman who follows Jesus.  What must they think of Christians after what transpired in that office...with me at the helm?

It was months before I even LOOKED at the classified section of the news paper for another job. When I did finally get up the nerve to look for other employment I couldn't bring myself to apply for positions similar to the one I'd left -- I stuck to retail, part time jobs that were well below my experience and training.  I was [and am still] terrified that I will mess up again.

And then my devo for today focused my attention on forgiveness. [Again].  When Jesus took our sins to the cross with him, he endured much to erase our shortcomings and build a bridge to fill the gap between us and God. Sheer grace....and grace alone.

In Jeremiah, God tells us "I will forgive their wrongdoing and never again remember their sin." [Jer 31:34]. And then as he hung, painfully and slowly dying on the cross, he pronounced in what must have been barely a pain-laden whisper "It is finished."

It's done. Jesus died on the cross for ALL of my sins.....even the four thousand dollar one.  If he will never again remember it....what am I saying about his pain, his torment, his unbelievable burden on that cross if I hang on to it?  Am I telling him that what he did for me wasn't enough?  Do I dare compare my actions, my efforts to HIS sacrifice?....By constantly beating myself up over something that happened in my past -- whatever that something is -- I am effectively undermining his blood price for my salvation.

Is there something in YOUR life that you hang on to?  Do you, like me, remind yourself  how you've failed?  Perhaps it's time to take our fingers....place them over the keyboard of our lives and simultaneously press Control, Alt, Delete. Let it go. That was recommended in my devo today.....I was reminded to ACCEPT God grace.

Pass The Dramamine, Please

Proverbs 4:25 -- "Let your eyes look directly ahead, and let your gaze be fixed straight in front of you."

 

Kentucky Sunset by: Kelly S Dalton

Some of the most beautiful country I've ever seen is just over the Tennessee/Kentucky border on the way to my parents house. Rolling hills, shimmering crisply in the sunlight with freshly fallen snow, Evergreen trees caked with fluffy white powder and the stark contrast of red cardinals is absolutely breathtaking.  I don't always get to see this beauty, however because like so many other unlucky travelers I have a tendency to fall prey to motion sickness.  Add the really queasy, dizzy feeling that comes from the drastic change in altitude [we Floridians live in a very, very, flat State] and I'm usually asking my fellow travelers for the emergency double-lined plastic bag I keep in the back seat. [yuck].

There IS a trick to road travel, however.  Keep your eyes on a fixed point straight ahead and don't look out the side of the car. Granted, this can be a difficult thing to achieve when you're winding around mountainous curves every few seconds....but it DOES help.

There are so many moments in life when I find that I'm praying "Lord, pass the Dramamine, please". The road ahead has only slightly fewer turns than a pretzel and I have a hard time finding due North. In these moments, I know to do what Proverbs says: "Let your eyes look directly ahead of you". It isn't beneficial to anyone to keep looking out the side window, overwhelmed with the twists and turns, because you'll either be asking for the double-lined emergency bag, or you'll drive off the road.

As I learned from the movie "Finding Nemo".....just keep swimming, just keep swimming......keep your eyes straight ahead of you and watch your feet. [Proverbs 4:26] The way may seem narrow at times, but God lights up our path to keep our feet from falling.

The Battle of Grapevine

Proverbs 10:11 -- "The mouth of the righteous is a fountain of life, but violence overwhelms the mouth of the wicked."

The Battle of Grapevine.  What do you think of when you hear that?  Was it a turning point, maybe in the American Civil War?  Nope. What about the Revolutionary War? The war with the  French?  Nope, again.

In 1888 a series of events lead two families in the Eastern United States to take up arms and very literally start a battle against each other.  That seems kind of ridiculous to me, but, I bet it didn't seem so silly to William Hatfield and Randolph McCoy.  That's right.....this infamous family feud lead to an actual battle and the deaths of many - family members and supporters, alike.  It's amazing to me that both sides claimed to be God-fearing Christian folk but the body count just kept on climbing.

This is what I thought of when I walked into the living room only to hear that my two boys were arguing over how to best play Halo.  Yeah....that's right....how to best play a video game.  What began as a comment or two turned into name calling and yelling and just....ugh.  Made me think of the Battle of Grapevine [although truthfully, our event was probably much less dramatic].

Here you have two sides. Two opinions and two very stubborn individuals who just would not let it go.  I stood there in the living room, hands on hips, just shaking my head.  "Ok Hatfiled and McCoy....time to do some house work!"

Much complaining was then shared by all involved, and I took the opportunity to read this verse from Proverbs and then went into the story of the Hatfields and the McCoys.  If just one of them had walked away and kept his mouth shut....maybe so many needless deaths could have been avoided.

Again in Proverbs, we are told to "overlook and insult" [Proverbs 12:16].  It isn't easy to do, I know this.  But have you SEEN the Hatfield and McCoy mini series on the History Channel?  I just wanted to take both of them and shake them!  Just like my two -- both well into their teen years [actually Brian is almost out of them] yelling at each other like three year olds who don't want to share a toy -- and all over how to be the best at shooting the alien scourge. ...ugh!

Housework completed, Steven came home from work and sat down to play a video game.  The boys were on the couch and I started nit picked Steven regarding his shooting skills.  The boys just looked at me like I was a crazy person.  Steven just sat there.....playin' his game in silence. I smiled and said "seems kind of silly, me fussin' at Dad over how he's playin' a game."

You could see the light bulb go on over each of them.  It takes TWO parties to argue.  It takes TWO people to start a fight.  There can't be a fight, if one of you walks away and does what God says to do.  Keep your mouth shut.  Let it go.  More difficult done than said....but can you image how history might have recorded good ole' William Hatfield and Randolph McCoy had each of them obeyed these two simple verses in Proverbs?

The Mercy Fish

Jonah 1:17 -- "But the Lord provided a great fish to swallow Jonah, and Jonah was inside the fish three days and three nights."

Most of us have known this story since we were small children.  Jonah didn't want to do what God told him to, so he ran. In the throws of his "escape" he took a boat in an attempt to get even further away from God. His presence on the boat causes a great storm and Jonah tells the crew that it's his fault, they should throw him over. ...they did.  The angry seas calmed.  The boat sailed away.

And the fish came along...

Dead in the middle of a long, dreary, sleepless and just plane horrible night, my shaking fingers found the volume on the CD player and I turned the music up.  Amy Grant was telling us all about what love is for and I had tears pouring in torrents down my face.

The person to whom I was married....legally vowed and loyal to....had not yet returned from what he called a job.  It was 1:00 in the morning.  I knew the exact time that he was scheduled to punch his time card and come home....to his wife and 6 month old baby boy.  But....he wasn't home.  And I knew exactly where he was.

I had been literally on my face, knees on the floor and red from hours of remaining motionless, knuckles white from the tight grip on my Bible pouring out my very broken heart in all of it's tattered pieces to God in prayer. ...for days.  "God, I know you are big enough to fix this.  I've seen you work the most amazing miracles in war-torn Africa, in the chaotic political turmoil of the Philippines, and in countless ways pertaining to my own life.  If You can do all of that, I KNOW you can fix this marriage.  Make the affairs stop.  Show me what I need to do to make my husband happy and stay at home.  Fix me...show me how to make this marriage work.  I know you always answer the prayers of those that humbly seek you out and diligently ask for your help...answer me.  Fix this."

No.

I prayed everything right.  I even prayed with friends and family always in the name of Jesus Christ...but just days after the room was plummeted into dark silence as the CD player turned itself off and Amy Grant's voice was no longer pumping through the stereo speakers, the person to whom I was married, moved his girlfriend into our home. [I wasn't there].

So there I sat, flailing about in a raging sea......

Wow. God parted the red sea using Moses, God brought the walls of Jericho down through Joshua, God saved all of us from ourselves through Jesus Christ and he even saw fit to save me when I almost died giving birth to Brian...He couldn't save this marriage?  Didn't Brian deserve to grow up in an unbroken home? Isn't it His ultimate will for us to remain committed to our marriage vows and work things out?

No was God's answer.  I didn't like it.  I didn't understand it.  I couldn't breathe. My legs and feet stopped working and I just sat in a crumpled heap on the floor in total shock.  This just couldn't be happening.  It couldn't!  I was a missionary kid for crying out loud....born again when I was five and was raised by a minister Dad who just happened to be involved in marriage enrichment.  This just wasn't happening!

But, God sent a great fish named divorce and it swallowed me whole.

In Jeremiah God tells that He has plans to prosper us, not to hurt us, but plans to give us hope and a future. [Jeremiah 29:11] God had a purpose for me and that little six month old baby boy.  Plans not to harm us, but to give us hope. HOPE!!  Plans to prosper us. PROSPER!

Just days after Brian turned three years old [I had been a single Mom for close to three years] Steven W. Dalton asked if we should set a date. I was confused....it took me a minute to process that he had just asked me to marry him.  Wow....REALLY?  I couldn't believe he wanted to marry ME! Didn't he know I was used merchandise with tattered packaging? Didn't he realize I was a two-fer? He'd be an instant Dad?

I was given joy.  WE were given joy. It is so hard during the nightmare moments we find ourselves buried deep within to see that - the fish that just ate us whole - was sent out of mercy, not spite or punishment.  I certainly couldn't see the mercy part when it felt like my life was falling apart back in 1994. ....but God did.  God took the mess that I had made of my life and turned it into HOPE, JOY and the precious gift of a wonderful, strong, and PROSPEROUS marriage.

What would have happened to Jonah if the fish hadn't swallowed him?  He was flailing about in a raging sea.  He might have drown. Or he might have died of thirst or starvation.  But God was merciful.  He didn't allow Jonah to perish, but he sent a great fish to swallow him.

We don't always understand it when God tells us no. Sometimes it can feel a lot like defeat.  But God holds the plans and He knows what we need. Sometimes, it might take a whale to get us back on the right track, I gotta' say, right track sure sounds a lot better then spending the rest of our lives in the belly of a smelly fish.