S.O.S.

Psalm 107:6 -- " 'Lord, help!' they cried in their trouble, and he rescued them from their distress."

There is something quite romantic about baring witness to the rescue of a damsel in distress. Whether the dragon be slayed by our dashing hero's sword, or our bookworm outsmarts the villain and gets a kiss from the girl for once in his scholarly life - we cheer. Good wins. Evil is done. There is joy in the victory and we rest our tired heads on soft comfortable pillows when we sleep, knowing that in Fairy Tale land, all is well, once more. We can sigh deeply into a relaxed grin as our handsome charge sets off into the sunset on the strength of his magnificent steed with his rescued safely riding in his lap.

Squarely back in our own world, perhaps the victory is in the NEED for the rescue itself.

Charles Spurgeon once wrote: "There is no greater mercy that I know of on earth than good health - except it be sickness; and that has often been a greater mercy to me than health....It is a good thing to be without a trouble; but it is a better thing to have a trouble, and know how to get grace enough to bear it."

For sure, when trouble blows in full steam and wreaks havoc on our warm and cozy calm we may not see the grace of it, the beauty of it -- the need for it. Clinging tightly to a slippery life-preserver as giant waves crash about our heads, in desperate hope that the next breath won't be our last, it is often difficult to see what strength we might gain from the panicked dog-paddling. Only with warm, scruffy blankets snugly wrapped about us and with steam from tea, nice and hot wisping about our shivering faces have we the strength to thank our knights in shiny Coast Guard. And for this, I think Spurgeon had it right. Do we really value and appreciate the grace and mercy so freely given us if we have no knowledge of what death and pain await us without them?

More to the point - in that glorious moment when our sea-battered vision quietly meets eye to eye with our rescuers we breath deep air un-laced with brine and burning wind - we have been granted a truly thankful heart.

In perfect pitch and earnest tones, Twila Paris once sang "thank you for this thorn imbedded in my flesh" - echoing the prayers of Paul when in anguish he laments over an un-named trouble. Reading Psalm 107:6 brought me back to those soul purging words. I am reminded to embrace thankfulness.

My mother once said that in order to make a thing a habit - one must achieve it no fewer than thirty times. Thirty times I floss my teeth before brushing them because a dentist told me the wax on dental floss can cause tooth decay. Thirty times I  place my empty coffee cup in the dish washer instead of setting it in the sink. Thirty times I take a minute to wipe the bathroom counter after I put on my make-up. And - thirty times, as I open my eyes to the brilliance of a fresh morning - I thank God that He has granted me this day, whatever troubles might lay in wait amongst its shadows.

Unfamiliar with the works of the famed theologian and editor, J.R. Miller until just recently, I came upon something he said about thankfulness: "Christian thanksgiving is the life of Christ in the heart -- transforming the disposition and the whole character. Thanksgiving must be wrought into the life and HABIT -- before it can become a fixed and permanent quality. An occasional burst of praise, in the midst of years of complaining, is not what is required. Songs on rare, sunshiny days; and no songs when skies are cloudy -- will not make a life of gratitude. The heart must learn to sing ALWAYS....thanksgiving has attained its rightful place in us, only when it is part of all our days and dominates all our experiences."

I designate a nearly empty journal collecting dust bunnies on a shelf to be a new thing. To hold within it's pages - gratitude. In every circumstance I find myself about to complain, about to point out another frustration or disappointment - I will - more than thirty times - pen a word of thankfulness. Document the abundant grace of the Lord and count the endless ways that: as I cry out HELP, LORD! - he gently and graciously comes to my rescue.

Kryptonite

Judges 16:17 -- "Finally, Samson shared his secret with her. 'My hair has never been cut,' he confessed, 'for I was dedicated to God as a Nazirite from birth. If my head were shaved, my strength would leave me, and I would become as weak as anyone else.' "

Brown hair was collecting at my feet. Djibouti, one of our cats, tried to catch it as it fell and was soon peppered with bits of hair that weaved themselves into her long white hair.  She looked pretty ridiculous, and Brian laughed as I snipped some more brown off the top of his head. I don't know why the hair seems to multiply as it falls to the ground, but the at end of cutting the guys' hair - there seems to be much more of it on the floor than there was while it was on their heads. Not even counting the stuff that sticks to the cats.

As I finished the tight trimming around B's ears he asked me: "if Samson asked God to help him get a little pay-back from those who wronged him, why can't we?"

Well, now there's a question. And quite frankly, it took me a minute to mull this one over because my very
first thought was: 'yeah.....why can't we?'

I turned the story on it's head. Asked Brian a question of my own.

"Would you want God to recant His grace when you wrong others? Would you want Him to grant them permission to 'get a little pay-back?'

I could just about SEE the smoke coming out of Brian's ears as he mentally chewed on those questions. But his question really did bring up an interesting frame of thought. Our biblical superhero, Samson was put to the test on numerous occasions prior to his betrayal from Delilah - and each time, he came out the victor. AFTER his betrayal, he asked God to give him the strength to pay them back for taking his eyes - and perhaps surprisingly, God did just that. The one thing that grabbed my attention during my re-visit to this story was the plea from Samson's lips. He didn't ask God to help him destroy the people who had flat out disrespected God and tormented His people. He asked God to help him because they gouged out his eyes. THAT's kind of interesting.

I suppose from Samson's point of view -- God helped him serve up some good 'ole fashion and rather bloody Vendetta. But as I thought more about this story, it occurred to me the victory really wasn't about Samson. It was ALL about God. And this is what I ended up sharing with Brian:

From Samson's very first breath on this earth - he was given to God. He was born specifically to serve whatever purpose God chose to bestow upon him. During the time frame of Samson's life - that purpose was very  physical. He was God's secret weapon [although really, Samson didn't stay very secret about his work, did he?] And in spite of Samson's personal Kryptonite - women - God used Samson's life to the very end of it. His life was God's to use in whatever manner seemed appropriate to God.

The same applies to us. We are God's to command. We are here to serve Him - not the other way around. Our every breath is to bring glory to God's name and share His amazing grace. What glorifies God when we seek pay back from some very earthly slight? Even when that slight is fatal - or brutal - or unfathomable, God says 'Vengeance is Mine'. A brief review of some amazing Bible stories confirms my faith in God's power. I'll leave things in His hands. Just as His hands moved across the lands of His people in the book of Judges -- He will do so again.

Earth Trembles

Proverbs 30:21a,23a -- "Under three things the earth trembles...an unloved woman who is married,"

Though the sun is bright, warm with comfort, lighting up the ripples on the water that moves with fish nibbling on bread crumbs and the red-eared sliders that try to get in on the action before the food is gone - she is cold. You wouldn't know it to look at her, but I know it because I've seen her so often in this spot, brushing the tears from her cheeks quickly, in hopes that no one will notice she's been crying. But I notice. I always notice. And I can read the body language as if it were my own. Probably because long ago, it was my own.

Leaning over with her arms crossed tightly over her stomach, she places her head between her knees and peeks out at the ducks. This is a broken woman. She has learned of her husband's affair and now has some pretty tough decisions to make.

A previously divorced woman, I was once asked how it is I can excuse the fact that divorce is a sin? How is it I have allowed myself to re-marry when it goes against the Word of God? Let me first say that the Bible has several references to divorce, including one that instructs men to issue their x-wives a certificate that she may move forward in her life without shame. But I will leave this particular questions unanswered for the moment because I want to address a woman's pain. And in some cases - a man's pain - when trust, union, and even love have been abandoned in a marriage.

The earth trembles. I can nearly feel it as I watch this woman, sitting on the grass feeling the most alone anyone can feel. I feel the ground beneath her sigh, even as she sighs and her shoulders begin to shake in another gut wrenching wave of sobs.

The truth is, God doesn't want this woman to be unloved. Proverbs makes that clear. At the end of verse 21 the Bible says: "under four, it cannot bare up." God's Word says that a woman unloved in her marriage is unbearable. I don't think it's too far fetched to think that the same applies to an unloved man in his marriage. AND - I think it applies to more than just the physical act of an affair.

I have seen women simply exist in a marriage. Every day becomes a monotonous going-through-the-motions. For these women there is no tenderness. No celebration of the beauty that they really are. No brightly lit candles on birthdays and no fancy dinners for anniversaries. It breaks my heart. There seems to be no recourse - there isn't really any physical thing that I can do for these women. Which sometimes makes me feel useless - but the one thing I CAN do -- is walk over to the woman on the grass and sit down beside her, knowing my backside is going to be wet when I get back up from the dew that still clings to the ground - I put my hand on her shoulder and cry with her. Hurt with her. Pray with her. I tell her God knows her pain. And He can't "bare  up" what she is going through.

I would never presume to tell her HOW to handle her situation, and in this case, I won't tell her how I once handled mine - it needs to be between her and the Lord. But I will offer her God's promise that He will never leave her nor forsake her. I will share with her that in the morning, rejoicing comes and that God does, indeed, have hope and a future just for her.

God does tell us in the Bible to speak to fellow Christians in love, to let them know they've strayed from the path He's chosen. I cannot argue with that. However, it ALSO says in the Bible, to love they neighbor. To offer grace as it was once [and often] offered to you. It is THIS encouragement I hope to have portrayed in today's blog. That perhaps, just for moment, we can focus on the need for comfort needed by a very broken heart, rather than rebuke an already injured soul who might be faced with a less than perfect solution to a damaged, broken marriage.

Calendar Girls

Psalm 45:1 -- "My heart is stirred by a noble theme and I recite my verses to the king; my tongue is the pen of a skillful writer."

If you've read ANYTHING I've written on this blog or the hubs I submit on hubpages.com then you've heard me say - I live in a house full of guys. I'm the only female if you don't count the cats. Chick-Flicks are few and far between in our home but this week-end I managed to sneak one in while the guys were out doing other things.

As I sat in the rocker/recliner, Kleenex in hand, Djibouti [my cat] purring on my lap, I was deeply moved by the amazing group of actresses on the screen and let the tears freely flow down my cheeks. In the movie, Calendar Girls, one of our heroins looses her husband right off the bat. I couldn't help but allow myself to be pulled into Knapely, England and mourn with this woman and her friends.

There were several ... and I DO mean SEVERAL things about this movie that I loved and could write about, but the one thing that stands out the most is the parting words left by our recently deceased spouse. The quote is as follows:

"The flowers of Yorkshire are like the women of Yorkshire. Every stage of their growth has its own beauty, but the last phase is always the most glorious. Then very quickly they all go to seed. Which makes it ironic my favorite flower isn't even indigenous to the British Isles, let alone Yorkshire. I don't think there's anything on this planet that more trumpets life than the sunflower. For me that's because of the reason behind its name. Not because it looks like the sun but because it follows the sun. During the course of the day, the head tracks the journey of the sun across the sky. A satellite dish for sunshine. Wherever light is, no matter how weak, these flowers will find it. And that's such an admirable thing. And such a lesson in life."

I had to pause the film and just ball my eyes out. And for the record - I HIGHLY recommend this film for it's inspiration, the deep rooted friendships of women, community resourcefulness, and the passion shared for Leukemia research.  AND -- I could write an entire blog about the phases of women and the pride that this one husband had for his bride - even after all the years, the child baring, the aging and the experiences he shared with this woman. [As I said - for SO MANY, MANY reasons I LOVED this film].

Nestled deep within all the other things that I adore about this movie - was the mental image of a sunflower field. In my head I could see a time-lapsed exposure of brilliantly colored sunflower heads watching the sun pass over them, never losing focus of the one thing they hold most important. The focus - on LIGHT. On strength. On nourishment. Even in the rain these amazing flowers reach - stretch root and stem toward the light shining through the clouds. Very truly a satellite dish for the sun.

WE are a satellite dish for the SON. And in Psalm 45:1 we see that even if we aren't gifted with the talent of Shakespeare or the eloquent well written lost husband in the move Calendar Girls - our hearts are a beautiful thing when they are focused on Jesus. What words might not grant us a Pulitzer, or even an honorable mention become the highly sought after yearnings of humbled lips lifted toward heaven in gratitude. In need. In praise.

Wherever our one true Light is, no matter how far it feels we have to crane our hearts, stretch our spirits to find it on this chaotic planet - we CAN find it. Always. Unlike the colorful field of sunflowers - our Son isn't the one moving - that we should angle in the direction of His glory and grace. WE are the ones that move. All we have to do to get back, is ask to be received.

Heart Water

Luke 7:38 -- "Then she knelt behind him at his feet, weeping. Her tears fell on his feet, and she wiped them off with her hair. Then she kept kissing his feet and putting perfume on them."

Stop and go traffic tends to bring out the motion sick in me.  Even when I'm the one driving. So as I put foot to break petal AGAIN, I concentrate on the words of Martina McBride blaring through my stereo speakers. And I belt them out at the top of my lungs - "she'll be wearin' white".

I can't help but smile big because so much of this particular song hits home. My groom, much like the one in the song, ignored everything I was before he and I exchanged vows. My divorce and all the little nasty details pertaining therein did not register on Steven's radar. And while I didn't EXACTLY wear white to my second wedding - I didn't wear true white to my first one, either. The reason isn't what you think it is -- I don't look good in white.  I just don't. It makes me look like a leukemia patient. So on BOTH occasions [let's face it, I don't really count the first one...it doesn't exist anymore] I chose champagne over true white. But the point here is: I could've worn true white when Steven married me. Like the bride groom in Martina's song -- Steven loves me, looks at me in a way that I will never understand - in a way that makes me FEEL like I actually deserve to wear white [even though, getting down to brass tacks, no human does.]

The woman in Luke 7 approached Jesus adorned in the color that society and her own guilt had draped around her. Dark, stained with an accumulation of past sins and more than a little thread-bare. Weeping, on her knees, she totally humbled herself before the Lord. She did the unthinkable. She washed his feet in her own tears and some very expensive perfume. And while most of us are familiar with this story - we've all conjured up mental images of this shunned woman at the feet of Jesus Christ - I want to zero in on a detail that might frequently be overlooked.

She dried his feet with her hair.

Her hair!!

First - in her culture and society, women just DID NOT let their hair down. It was considered shameful. [which makes me think all men back then had a hair fetish, but I digress]. This strikes out at me for so many reasons - not the least of which is that this woman was overrun with grief, pouring out her heart water - her tears - at the foot of our Savior - she acted in a very humble and passionate manner. Her sole focus at that moment was Jesus. Not those around her looking down their noses in shock and pious disbelief. All she could see was Jesus Christ.  That's all that mattered. The rest of the world didn't exist in that moment.

Second - her hair!! Take a look at your own feet right now. Are you wearing shoes? If not, are you inside? When was the last time you looked at the bottoms of your own feet and investigated in between your toes? Would you bathe them with your own hair? I gotta say, I wouldn't. It just seems so gross....but now think about the feet that Jesus and the people of his time had - what they must have looked like.  They didn't have lace up tennis shoes and pedi-spas. They didn't have clean white cotton socks and paved roads.  No -- their feet were a true testament to where they'd been....outside, in sandals that left them open to the elements and to every single step they took in travel. And this woman - washed the well-traveled feet of Jesus Christ with her own hair.

She gave him what she had. Herself. Her humility. Her WAY less than true white heart. And while she came to Jesus clothed in a color contaminated by imperfect hues and scar laden splotches - she left him wearing white.

Just like each of us CAN. And like the woman in Luke 7 - we have been given the overwhelming joy that comes from being viewed as beautiful and worthy of a new, brighter color. She could not stop kissing his feet. I don't think I
should, either.

Ten Four!

Psalm 90:17 -- "And let the favor of our God be upon us. And do confirm for us the work of our hands; Yes, confirm the work of our hands."

The room lit up in electronic blue, the only sound coming from the Bible pages occasionally trying to turn themselves in the downdraft from the ceiling fan. Like the rhythm set on a metronome - silence - then fhwwt. More silence. Then fhwwt. I'd left the book laying open on the corner of the desk as I so often DO forget to put it back in the desk drawer when I'm through perusing it's precious passages.

A slight rustle from the old card-board delivery box [that we keep behind the desk precisely for it's current occupant] broke the almost musical beat as one of the family cats stretched in the throws of some feline dream.

Steven noticed none of this. His eyes were moving back and forth - sky blue illuminated by the computer screen in an otherwise dark office, as he read my most recent blog entry. I watched him from the thrift store sofa.

"I like this one." And I let out a held breath as he said the words I was hoping to hear. A smile bigger than the great wall of China spreading across my face.

Whenever I take pen to paper - or fingers to keyboard - I hope the words are good. That mental images, hopes, encouragement or expressions of endearment have been written well. But most of all, I hope with everything I am that I glorify God. I have to admit that I can't claim success in every work that pops of the gray matter behind my eye-balls -- but that IS indeed my goal.

Is this right? Did I portray the grace of God? Or did I simply spill thoughts and self-centered emotion in a jumbled storm of letters onto a previously white surface?

I absolutely LOVE Psalm 90:17. Confirm for us the work of our hands, YES.....confirm for us. The song writer pleas with God. Asks our Creator to approve.  Tell, me Lord - that I am doing well.  That I make  you happy....YES, Lord, tell me this.  Let me know.  Grant me Your favor.

Very human of this Psalmist, don't you think?

It made me think of my boys. Of my husband. Of my sweet friends. Of my extended family.

Do I tell them - hey, I like this one! Good job on your class project. Awesome job for sticking it out at work when you're really having a rotten day. Good work, dragging yourself out of bed to start a new day when you're so tired. I like your choice of shirt. I'm proud to know you - I'm proud to share life with you.

Sadly, I fear that the answer to this question is that I really DON'T tell them these things often enough. If I - as a very human individual - appreciate confirmation. LONG for it.  Don't also, the people around me?

I was reminded of this very simple act today. Well, the NEED for this very simple act. Confirm. Praise. Thank. Include these incredible individuals that share space with me in my gratitude journal ... but also... tell them that I've done so.

I can do that. I NEED to do that.

Fun Fact:  did you know that the 10 code was created by a man named Charles Hopper in 1937? A member of the Illinois State Police - district 10, Charles recognized the need to minimize communication through what was, at the time, early and often quirky technology. But the 10 code didn't really become popular to the public until the early '70's when there was an explosion of cb radios for both professional and personal use. And while there has been some debate on the efficiency of this code - it is still used by law enforcement and the general public to this day.

Love Song Grace

Jeremiah 31:3 -- "I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness."

We must have looked quite the sight - all four of us huddled over the freshly cleaned glass on top of the fifty year old pin-ball machine - faces lit up with the warm yellow glow of aged filament charged with good 'ole fashioned AC current. [nothing florescent and green about this machine...]

When my husband, Steven, first found the abandoned thing it was covered in dust, very scratched and some of the fuses had blown. The previous owner tried to bypass investing  in a twenty-cent fuse by wrapping a couple of them in aluminum foil. NOT good for the machine....but I guess it got the job done.

No question -- the thing needed some TLC. But Steven knew a diamond in the rough when he saw one and made a B-Line for the nice lady at the front of the antique store manning the cash register, his eyes big and shiny like a kid in a candy store. He has always wanted a pin-ball machine. But even the ones that have yet to be refurbished and restored can cost an arm and a leg. When he returned with the price - his eyes were even bigger - and I kid you not - he all but jumped up and down right there in the middle of all those old previously owned treasures. He was finally a pin-ball machine owner.  And not one of those new-fangled digital ones, either - but a bonafied Gotlieb from 1966 with a manual ball feed and two million feet of electrical wiring tangled around it's innards.

Joy upon joy - the four of us in this Dalton gang were watching the machine perform - bells dinging, score-board all lit up and metal balls bouncing off cracked and yellowed bumpers. You should have seen Steven's excitement when he found the replacement rubber kit and light bulbs and changed each of the old ones out with the care and concentration of a surgeon. Sheer perfection!

Like I said -- a little TLC. It now works like a dream -- HIS dream and he's as giddy as the family cats that jump on the thing when they hear it plugged in....ever ready to try to pounce on the ball through the glass.

This particular project of his - the time, the effort, the patience ... made me think back sixteen years to another project of his that required time, effort, and the patience of Job. Reading Jeremiah 31:3 this morning brought it all back....and inspired an entry in my thankful journal.

I had been a divorced/single Mom for going on three years when I moved back down to Florida from Nashville, Tennessee way back in 1996. I was a broken Christian -- and didn't care one iota for even LOOKING into another romantic entanglement [at least, not a REAL one -- going out to dinner occasionally was fine]. But Steven -- well, like our Pastor says when asked how he's managed a successful marriage for so long -- he just kept showing up. My determination to refuse a date did not move him in the least.  He would come over and play hot-wheels with my toddler. He would drive me to work - carpooling in the "interest of saving gas" - he offered to take me to the beach to see a meteor shower "to take a break from being a stressed out single mother"..... he very literally drew me with unfailing kindness. He later told me that he'd loved me since we met in 1990 - WAY before I ever moved to Tennessee and made my poor decision to marry without God's approval. Before I had Brian. Before the divorce and consequent move back down to the Sunshine State.  And all those years -- all the things that transpired within them - didn't matter a lick to Steven.  He told me once that -- he knew what God wanted for him, he knew me the minute I walked through the door of our Sunday School class as a brand new church member straight off the mission field - and he didn't see the point in wasting anybody's time by going out with the wrong people. He said it would be waste of their time - these would-be-suitors - and a waste of his. .... so he waited....and waited.....and waited. AND....even that truth that a date with a single Mom often feels more like a job interview than an opportunity to spend time cultivating a romantic relationship....Steven kept showing up. Then - FINALLY [his finally] - in early 1997 - he asked me to set the date. I couldn't say no.  I didn't want to say no.  He loved me with an unfailing love and drew me with immeasurable kindness.

This man has a wonderful way of showing me the kind of love God has for us. And just like the joy and excitement over taking a fifty year old pin-ball machine and transforming it, healing it, coaxing it back to life to sparkle and ding again -- I was granted the joy of that elusive sparkle and fire-cracker pop when a girl is swept off her feet after a life-time of dreaming and hoping that one day the REAL Mr. Right will come along.

God does this. God sees what generations upon generations of sin and self-centeredness have done to His creation and waits, ever at the ready  with open arms, to coax us back to life, back to joy, back to hope that shines and dings clear and pure. There is no love as everlasting as His. No kindness as unfailing as our Fathers. ...and yet, we find ourselves, often -- running away from it. Hiding in the back of the antique store with a dingy tarp haphazardly draped over us - embarrassed by the scratches, the dents and peeling paint -- afraid that accepting this wonderful grace and love will....what? Hurt? Be too difficult? Be more than we deserve?

Perhaps....it might some of those things. But -- it will DEFINITELY be joy. It will, beyond a doubt, be restoration. Renewal. Think about the words Jeremiah uses......EVERLASTING -- UNFAILING. What more hope and happiness could anyone want?

Sheer Amazement

Psalm 89:9,10 - "You rule the oceans. You subdue their storm-tossed waves. You crushed the great sea monster."

The sun accosted my eyes in a blazing contrast to the darker cool of the building the second we stumbled out of it's doorway. Dust was kicking up from the panicked foot traffic of those around us and I could hear the colorful expressions inspired by those who lost the battle with sheer and unabashed fear.  In front of me, as we all scurried outside to safety, I saw one of the largest rusty, dirt-covered bulldozers I had ever seen in my life - teeter, rock, and shimmy so violently that I was positive it was going to take off down the old dirt road on it's own. Behind us, I heard rows and rows of grocery shelves topple like dominoes with one loud crash and thud after another as the contents went hurling to the old vinyl floor. A power line went down.

There just wasn't a safe place to stand and ride out the earth quake. There were too many buildings. Too many things falling down.

And just like that -- in the blink of an eye or a snap of the finger -- it was over. The earth we so blindly depend on stilled once more and walking became a little less challenging. People were injured - but only superficially, no one was killed or crushed by falling STUFF. I don't remember what number this quake ranked on the Richter scale....but it must have been a doozy.

My home town growing up - Davao City, Philippines - was never a stranger to earth quakes. The Philippines in general is no stranger to earthquakes. The next door neighbor to Japan, the PI [Philippine Islands] rests on the crossroads of three tectonic plates; The Philippine Sea Plate, The Eurasian Plate, and the Pacific Plate. And as you may have guessed, these three plates are often in an argument over elbow room.  When this happens, the earth rumbles in protest. Add this with the sheer quantity of active faults on the islands -- and you have one riotous geographic party standing ever at the ready to get loud and rowdy.

Earthquakes can be monsters. Thunderstorms can be monsters. Tornadoes, Hurricanes and lightning strikes can be monsters. But also......LIFE can be a monster.

In ancient Hebrew literature, the great sea monster mentioned in Psalm 89 was called Rahab. She represented chaos. I like Psalm 89:9-10 for so many, many reasons but one that really sticks out is that Ethan the Ezrahite [the author of THIS particular Psalm] was not ashamed to name his monsters. As he lifted his praise up to the Lord, he gave credit where credit is due...to God. He recognized victory - AND - he proclaimed the power and strength of our Lord.

I was struck full on by this verse today because I think there are a lot of us who, in a moment of panic, might not remember that God is greater than our monsters. He rules the oceans that so quickly generate giant storms. He rules the sometimes shaky earth beneath our feet and the skies that let loose golf-ball sized hail. We belong to the most powerful, the most strong!

Psalm 94:9 says: "Is He deaf -- the one who made your ears? Is He blind -- the one who formed your eyes?"

We have but to call out -- ask for help. I find myself so often struggling through something that becomes this HUGE monster that I cannot conquer -- because I've tried to slay the dragon on my own. I CAN'T slay the dragon on my own. I don't know when I'll learn this - but I HAVE to give my battles to the Lord and let Him fight them, let Him guide me through them. He subdues the storm-tossed waves, afterall.  He'll subdue my life storms, as well.

Fool's Gold

John 6:32 -- "Jesus said, 'I tell you the truth, Moses didn't give you bread from heaven. My Father did. And now He offers you the true bread from heaven' ".

The sun beat down and the yellow flies were biting, driving us crazy, but I loved the treks into the Tilly Fowler park across from NAS - JAX. The lush green, the fallen pine needles, the huge Cypress trees and abundant flora and fauna are WONDERFUL for a shutterbug such as myself.  On this hot day, however, after looking around for some great photo ops, it quickly became apparent that something wasn't quite right. It didn't take too long to discover that something. I had to cover my mouth with my hand to stave off the stink that came from the dead banded water snake at the bank of a small pond. He'd been badly mutilated and it made me sad. I could guess what happened.

Florida Banded Water Snake

Working on the spill way two crew men were clearing the grate from storm debris and saw the snake swim across the surface. As it so often happens down here, they probably mistook it for a water moccasin [commonly called a cotton mouth] and brought about it's death. They do look very similar -- but the truth is, if you pay attention, you can tell the two snakes apart. [Our family learned this from National Geographic's Maynard Cox who lived a short distance from our house and was gracious enough to give us audience during a homeschool coop meet].

Cotton Mouth

Now actually, even though I understand the fear of the venomous and non-venomous creatures, I don't think that even a cotton mouth deserves an untimely death unless absolutely necessary, they help our Eco-system in so many ways ... and I know what you're thinking..... and it's true that most people don't feel the same way about reptiles - it was after all, just a snake. But bare with me here -- this encounter gave me pause and made me think of something.

One of these animals is truly dangerous and -- having an aggressive/aggravated nature -- can really cause harm to a person. The other one, rarely bites even when chased by curious children at the side of a creek. [I learned THIS at the public park in Green Cove Springs].

What could have happened if the curious kids in Green Cove had tried to capture a water moccasin instead of a banded water snake? Well, it doesn't take a very vivid imagination to guess that there could be some serious trouble there. In that particular situation, it really pays to know the difference between true harm and excited investigation. Which brings me to my point.

Focus.

and Truth.

Yesterday, as my son's fiance' and her mother were sitting with me in our office creating jewelry, a story was shared with me about a family acquaintance who appeared to be a banded water snake. In other words: she knew the Bible verses, she could recite wonderful wisdom and share sermon truths in encouragement and guidance. At first glance, she was the harmless water snake taking a dip in  a fresh water spring - encouraging others to enjoy the cool waters with her.

But something happened. A married woman with children, she hooked up with an old flame via FaceBook. No one can really say how long the on-line affair went on before she eventually took her two children and moved in with the former flame -- leaving her husband in the dust. And this is where I have to choose my words carefully -- because it's one thing to be a Christian and make a legitimate mistake or bad choice, repent and ask forgiveness and turn around, moving into the light and away from the darkness -- it's quite another to invite others into sin and deem that it's o.k. To use scripture to excuse sin and continue to live in it - creating a poor example for young ones and old ones alike who might still be growing in faith and conviction.

The family friend actually talked her husband, fellow adulterer and two girls into believing that what she had done was o.k. because in God's eyes - she and this other fellow were married in their hearts. The husband walked away and let the woman walk out of his life with his two daughters. The daughters were taught that what Mom did is perfectly fine. That God even says it's perfectly fine.

See my point now?

Many, many, MANY times in Christian history WE set our sights on the cotton mouth. After all, it LOOKS like harmless banded water snake. We focus on the wrapping paper and bows, special sales and favorite baking moments at Christmas instead of it's true celebration. We excuse our own behaviors and write them off as acceptable. We give biblical figures power and special abilities [like the virgin Mary or in the above verse, Moses] when even the Bible doesn't - blinding ourselves and others around us to the true power, the TRUE bread from heaven. We indulge habits that do far LESS than glorify God and seek loop holes in scripture to accommodate them, allowing us to continue our behavior.

What happens when we catch the creature and find out it's not the harmless water snake we thought it was? Or worse? What happens if we catch it, hold on to it, and never realize it's not the harmless water snake we thought it was? What if we invite other people to check out the nifty looking animal that we've captured?

Somebody IS going to receive a nasty bite. It might not be you, it might not be right now. But somewhere down the line, the venom is going to rear it's ugly head and reality just might be deadly.

The TRUE bread. That's where we need to put our focus.  We should guard it with everything we have -- using the FULL armor of God. We ALL sin -- we ALL sometimes get our reptiles confused...but we don't have to STAY confused. And we certainly SHOULDN'T encourage others to indulge in our confusion.

A verse I have to cling to every day is Psalm 19:13. "Keep your servant also from willful sins." Pray, Father -- guard me from spiritual look-a-likes, fakes, and deadly misidentification.

We/ I have to learn the difference between true bread, the TRUTH that God has given us through Jesus Christ -- and the things that will harm us and others. Don't be blinded by the glitter and shine of fool's gold - cling to the brilliant nuggets of truer stuff.

A little note: You can tell the difference between the banded water snake and the cotton mouth by their pupils. Water moccasins will have slits for pupils. Banded water snakes will have round pupils. I don't recommend always getting that close to check them it out, though. 

Whatever You Do, Don't Reach For The Stars

John 3:30 -- "He must become greater and greater, and I must become less and less."

It's amazing to me how many times I can read a single verse and truly not get it....then one day...POW!...the light bulb goes off over my head and I beam with joy.

All laughs and comfortably crowded on Mom Dalton's couch, we flip the telly to a video [yes, and actual video on an actual tape] and watch a few memories unfurl themselves from the back of our brains via the wonderful shorts/skits on Sesame Street.

Right away I start singing with the music - "sunny day, I'm chasing the clouds away." .... and then....the Alligator King comes on. Do any of you remember the Alligator King with seven sons? Each son taking a turn trying to cheer up their gloomy 'ole Dad? They try everything...every kingly gift imaginable. Pearls, Diamonds, Rubies ... good choices all, but Dad remains gloomy.

That is until - the littlest son - the seventh one in line - takes his Dad's hand and says "Dad, it looks like you could use a little help." With those simple words little number seven helps Dad get up off the floor. And the Alligator King smiles once more because it was the littlest....small number seven.... who made the greatest impact on poor 'ole Dad's gloom. It took love and a helping hand.

Doing my devo this morning I thought of the Alligator Dad and his seventh son. I was reminded that - when we think of doing right by God and growing in Him -- we [or, I should say I] tend to think of growing taller in the Lord.  Reaching for Him in heaven and striving to do all the things I know that would make him proud. Lately I've given a great amount of thought to humility and service. I reach and reach.....stretch and stretch...and yet, the very act of honing in on these thoughts makes me proud - because these thoughts are self-centered. I ask: "what can I do today that will help me grow and make God proud of me?" If I focus on this -- I am pleased and happy that I have put my focus on Him -- and THAT makes me proud. In effect, I'm sons one through six, heaping earthly "goods" and treasures upon my Father that He might recognize my efforts to please Him. 

But, like little number seven Alligator, it's not reaching or stretching upward that will help me learn humility. It's not reaching for the stars..... it's reaching downward.....it's sitting down and being still. It's making my very SELF the offering to my Father - to do this, I lower my knees to the ground and bow -- low.

I long to look into a mirror and see the reflection of Jesus Christ - to no longer see myself looking back at me because I have become less and less -- Jesus has become greater and greater.

Flowering Weeds

Revelation 21:5 -- "He who was seated on the throne said, 'I am making everything new!' "

In this house of males - I am reminded of when the kids were little. Mother's day is just around the corner so I think of the mothers in my life that have shaped me into the person I am today, and naturally, I think of the three guys in my home.

There is much joy to the mother of boys. Bright, sunny Florida Sunday years, back - all dressed for church and all in a hurry - a six year old and a two year old approach me with sneaky grins and eyes as wide as dinner plates. They smile and each hand me a gift. "Happy Mother's Day!!" they both speak in crooked, off-kilter togetherness.

I sit. No longer in a hurry and open a card [that I still have] and then I gently unwrap pink tissue paper. Twice. One: A bright red hot wheel with white racing stripes and a Coke label on the side. Brian beams proud - he found a Coke-a-cola hot wheel and I collect Coke-a-cola. I smile bright and hug him tight. Two: a small glass bottle found in the back yard. Tyler smiles from behind his passie and I am handed three small, white and yellow daisy looking flowers for the bottle. The boys picked them, just that morning -- all for me for mother's day. I hug my Tater and tell them both thank you from the very bottom of my heart. I put the weeds turned flowers in the small bottle and set it on my dresser. I later pressed these weeds into my Bible where I still find them when turning the pages to find a favorite passage.

I read today that: A plant isn't a flower but a weed only by function of its place.

Transplant the weed to the heart and it blooms a flower. Proud, pretty, and sweet. Love - it reconfigures everything. It makes everything new.

It Is Well

Genesis 1:29 -- "Then God said, 'Look! I have given you every seed-bearing plant throughout the earth and all the fruit trees for your food.' "

In the heat, the bright, the lazy glow of sunlight I reach down into the earth and feel the warm moisture on my finger tips. Dirt collects under my finger nails and I can smell rain coming. It feels good.

I was blessed with a wonderful - and life changing - opportunity to stay part of the summer with Aunt Linda Dillworth at Mt. Carmel on Mindanao.  We were given the chance to farm. It was wonderful.

In my lap were several pouches of colorful seeds and beans. It amazed me that I could put these tiny little things in the ground and out would come food. I couldn't help but be reminded of the many ways God provides for us.

We were working on F.A.I.T.H gardens. [Food Always In The Home]. Part of a program to help Filipino nationals feed their families - acting out the old adage "give a man a fish, he'll eat for a day....TEACH a man to fish, he'll eat for a lifetime." After watering the turned earth that cradled my row of freshly planted corn I stood and stretched, dirt stains on my knees and mud on my sneakers. I felt renewed. There is just something about getting your hands dirty in the abundance of God that makes the soul relax and smile.

I picked up a piece of raw sugar cane [purchased from the market, I think] and started chewing the juice from the fibers as I headed over to milk the goats. It Is Well With My Soul played in my head and I realized that it really, really WAS well with my soul. What a precious gift God gave us when he said in Genesis, "I have given you every seed-bearing plant for your food." I remain in awe of Him.

Meandering through the produce isle at Whole Foods - it's difficult sometimes for me to remember the smell of the earth, the goats, the rain on freshly tilled soil and I know I take for granted the beauty in the way God provides for us. It's so easy, now. All I have to do is run to the grocery store and fill up my Eco-friendly reusable bags, get them home, follow a few recipes and viola!....dinner!

But today, I remember. I can imagine the sun beating down on my neck and shoulders, soft earth beneath my knees and earthworms scurrying to get out of the way. I remember the goats whining and the cows chewing endlessly on green, green grass. I remember the pigs as big as VW beetles and my laughter when all the piglets dove in to nurse at the same time. I remember Aunt Linda Dillworth and think of the box of Christmas Tree ornaments I keep in the garage - full of a wonderful assortment of little decorations that she gave each M.K. every single year just before Christmas. And I am reminded....it is well. It is well with my soul.

Just O.K?

John 11:9-10 -- "Jesus replied, 'There are twelve hours of daylight every day. During the day people can walk safely. They can see because they have the light of this world. But at night there is danger of stumbling because they have no light.' "

By now, most of you know that a huge passion of mine and of my husband is to comb the beach for shark's teeth. Believe it or not, we take it SO seriously that we will, occasionally, don flashlights and head out in the middle of the dark, if that's when low tide falls. It's fun when we do this because we have the beach to ourselves and come home with quite the haul. But, it can be creepy, too. ...nothing but dark except where our beams hit the sand and sounds are strange in the middle of the night. So many times I've been sure I heard someone run up behind us -- only to turn around and find nothing but more blackness.

There is no question, that we can see much better during the light of day.

I read a little blip by Beth Moore recently and she commented on this verse. It made me think of a couple of things: First, being able to see clearly is paramount for our spiritual hike through this life. How many times in my own life have I chosen the wrong path? Made mistakes that could have been avoided if I'd seen them in time [if I had been paying attention]?

It is true, I can see where God has turned these sticky situations around and I've come out o.k. There is no question that God often rescues me from myself.

The second thing it made me think of was an experimental brownie recipe that I tried out when the kids were little. I dove into to making brownies - had everything in the bowl and ready to add the eggs, when I realized - I didn't have any eggs. Well - this was going to be a booger. Then I remembered that I'd read somewhere that you can substitute apple sauce for eggs. One cup is equal to one egg  [or that's what I thought]. ....boy was I wrong! What came out of the oven smelled like brownies. It looked like brownies. But when I tried to cut them into squares my knife got stuck deep into a dark brown rubbery solid brick that literally bounced when it hit the floor. Not good.

If I had checked for all my ingredients BEFORE I started the brownie recipe -- things would have ended up a lot better.  Which brings me back to seeing clearly. Like I said, it's paramount. You know....look before you leap [even when just making brownies].

Beth Moore brought it to my attention -- that yes, God can save us from ourselves. Yes, when given to God, our mistakes and blunders CAN turn out o.k. BUT.......yup, there is a BUT....is o.k. really what God wants for our lives? I'm not really sure it is.

Jesus said that he came that we might have life -- AND have it more abundantly. It's not just about being o.k. If we could see clearly and chose the path that God lights up for us - we wouldn't so often need rescuing from ourselves. Things would be better than just o.k. They would be great -- because we followed God's design for our lives. We wouldn't be stumbling around in the dark in the first place.

I'm ready for THAT greatness. I'm ready to grow and shine and not need to heal from the bumps and bruises I incur while stumbling through a dark path that wasn't mine to take. I want to better than just o.k. All I have to do is follow the real path God set before me.  The one with his REAL light.

Duh

Proverbs 6:27 -- "Can a man embrace fire and his clothes not be burned?"

It feels like it's been a hundred years. I was twenty-three when I'd learned that a very dear friend of mine squared her shoulders, cleared her throat and walked into the "family planning" clinic. She walked in alone - and she walked out lonely.

I write today, not to judge my friend. She has been forgiven. It is not my place to put her back into the memories of what happened and the torment that ensued.  I write today because I want people to see the scars. The flesh - the spirit - that cannot go back. Holding onto flame so close, to choices that burn so white-hot that the heat of them consumes parts of us - never to leave us whole again. There is a reason God has given us His statutes. Just as there are reasons we tell our children "no".

She, my friend, wanted to fit in. Much like so many of us - Christians, fellow Missionary Kids, just plain teenagers. She wanted to feel belonging - so she made choices that she thought would elevate her social status and create a sense of love and comfort, however false it may have been. It wasn't too long down this path that she'd learned she'd gotten pregnant. But she couldn't handle the consequences of her actions. --or perhaps, she didn't want to handle them. So she found her way to the clinic and "took care of the situation".

Today, umpteen years later - she dreams. She still hears a baby crying sometimes in the dead of night - darkness consuming and shadows hiding when her family lies blissfully asleep. She reaches for her tummy and places her palm there, gently. Tears falling down her face. The empty just won't go away. It will never go away.

She is God's. She DID move forward. She DID ask for forgiveness and received it - and she tries to live life to the full. I do not always see God in her life, but I know she is His. The rest is between Him and her. But as I read this verse today - it reminded me of her. And of course of terrible decisions I have made in my own life - but today - it was her story I wanted to share because we all think - it will never happen to us. It will be an example lived through some OTHER eyes, some OTHER life. Scars left on some OTHER body and soul. But I/WE are far removed, right?

And THAT'S how Satan snares us.

We think to ourselves - how glad we are that some of those things did not happen to us. That we are careful with our lives and with our choices, for the most part. But - this is the lie that will grant Satan points on the score-board. After all - WE aren't the ones who had an abortion. WE aren't the ones who secretly stole company funds. WE aren't the ones addicted to recreational or prescription drugs. WE stand apart don't we?

But....let me ask you this: Do we point fingers and whisper behind the backs of others? Do we show-boat our newest financial success? Do we walk through church doors sparkly clean, careful not to brush up against those whose souls are less immaculate than our own? Do we look down our noses at the bum on the street and suggest that he/she has no one to blame but personal bad choices?  .....or..... do we, dare I say it, shut the door on a family member or a friend because they do not live the way we were taught to live?

Through out my multi-church experiences I have seen this.  I have participated, even. Sad, but true. I don't suggest that we are NOT to say to someone: "I do not agree with your decisions. The Bible is clear on this issue." We have a biblical responsibility to speak God's true Word. My point is - there is not one sin greater than another. Holding on to a brightly lit match too long results in the same damage as does placing our hands on the eye of a stove. The heat is different, yes - but it is still heat.  And we will still get burned.

Can a man embrace fire and not be burned? A woman walking into a "family planning" clinic is the same forgiven soul as is a man walking the church isle with the offering plate, tongue itching to rat out his pew partner for not giving his tithe. It may seem a strange untruth - but it really isn't.

I've been reading a lot about humility as of late. So I suppose it's natural that I find a quest for humility in Proverbs 6:27. Do not hold onto flame - no matter how tiny the spark might seem - how insignificant the ember in the bottom of the fireplace. It can still pop out and catch the carpet on fire. Instead, stamp it out with humble feet. And when your neighbor's carpet starts to go up and turn to ashes that linger, that sting the eyes and burn the nostril - run over and grab a bucket. Don't walk away.

Kid Lenses

Matthew 18:3-4 "Then he said, 'I tell you the truth, unless you turn from your sins and become like little children, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven. So anyone who becomes as humble as this little child is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven."

Years ago, when photos were still taken on rolls of stuff called film, I would go to the Walmart and drop off a few rolls and return a few days later to pick up the developed pictures. I can remember going through them in the car,  unable to wait till I got home, excited to see which ones turned out well and how many blank, black prints there might be.

On one of these occasions, I found a group of photos that were kind of bizarre. I certainly hadn't taken them. A crooked photo of one of the boys' toy spiders with Tyler's "passie" in the background. A close-up of the kitchen table in which my eyes were drawn to the table lip and the grain of the wood. Another close-up of the kitchen sink and the caulk used to keep water from leaking underneath it. [I'm glad it looked clean]. Then, one photo of carpet fibers so close up that I could see the braiding. It made me laugh.

Brian had apparently stolen a few moments with my camera and I was seeing a group of photographs taken from his short, fiver-year-old point of view. I just sat there in the car for a moment - all other prints from that single roll of film were forgotten as I repeatedly reviewed the few that B had taken. For those brief, few shots, I could see what he saw. I was in his little, short, and glorious world of wonder.

Today I was reminded of this when I read the words from G.K.Chesteron's book Orthodoxy. He said: "How much larger your life would be if your self could become smaller in it."

Isn't THAT the truth? Jesus even tells us this in Matthew 18:3-4. We will be greatest when we can become humble as little children are humble.

My boys are bigger now, both of them tower over me - but when they were little, if they needed something, anything, they would ask me for it. It was just that simple. They asked me to meet their needs and I could, very simply, meet them.

There are moments when I want to go back to those years. To see them, small and precious. I also want that for myself sometimes....to go back, when I was small and things were simple.

In our hearts - that's the way it SHOULD be. How much larger our world would be if we could be smaller in it? If I could forget myself and serve others. If I forget myself and those self-centered parts of me could be smaller as Christ is larger in my life. The world WOULD be bigger. There would be more room for God to use me because I wouldn't be so wrapped up in the things that take my time - things that might not really be all that important on the grander scale.