Proactive Grace

Isaiah 65:24 -- "Before they call, I will answer; and while they are still speaking, I will hear."

The banging on the door woke me with a start and I reached it just as the phone started to ring incessantly. I looked at the clock. It was 1:00 am. A nervous peek down the hall told me that the noises hadn't startled my two year old awake and I breathed in a deep sigh of relief. Even in that repreive, however, I couldn't stop my hands from shaking.

I'd officially been a single mom for eight months. The tiny apartment in which I huddled against the locked door was the first one I'd ever called my very own. I had discovered independence, and a strength in myself that I never knew existed. I'm not so proud that I claim the strength all my own, I know now - as I knew then - that God has given me grace.

Countless grace.

In a voice that I hoped portrayed confidence and determination if not a little anger - I shouted through the door for the angry-fisted "guest" to announce himself - but I already knew who it was. He'd been stalking me for close to two weeks.

A fellow Sunday-school class mate - the twenty-something on the other side of the door was recently returned from Afghanistan and had, unfortunately been present in a convoy that was ambushed with high grade explosives.  He survived. But came home battling some pretty strong demons. Demons I could not fight. Demons that would not take no for an answer.

Through obviously clenched teeth, the boogie-man on the other side of the door spat out his name, and then an angry accusation that I already knew who it was. We argued from either side of the doorway for a few minutes - he, hoping to weaken my resolve - and me, knowing my fellow-single mother neighbor just across the hall had my back and was undoubtedly calling the police. I only had to buy time until they arrived.

I leaned with all of my body against the door - a comforting gesture to assure myself that it would not open if I didn't open it.  The boogie-man started banging on the door even louder. And while there was no peep-hole - I could picture his angry face and the weapon my neighbor later confirmed he had stashed in the waist band of his pants. Pretending calm, he explained that he'd left his sunglasses on my sofa - all he wanted to do was get them and then he'd leave.

Nothing doing - Id' fallen for that trick once before and I would NOT allow a repeat performance. In shaky, shallow breaths, I prayed. I prayed for intervention, I prayed for grace, I prayed for help.

Isaiah reminds us that God hears all our prayers. Even before we utter them, He hears the words. Before we even cry out - God moves for us, acting on words unspoken, unformed. He grants us proactive grace. Preemptive grace. Grace that has no end. Love that can never be shaken.

I could hear the sirens. The haunted former soldier stopped pounding on the door. The phone stopped ringing as he stopped yelling obscenities and looked down into the parking lot at the flashing blue and red lights. My neighbor called the police when I could not due to a busy telephone. God heard my cries before I uttered them. He kept my two year old and I safe inside that tiny apartment.

He granted an amazing grace. Just as He does countless times every single day - times of which we may not even be aware - as He answers unrendered words, unspoken cries for help. God is with us - even before we ask it of Him.

The Light At The End Of The Tunnel

John 8:12 -- "I am the light of the world. He who follows me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life."

The tiny bulb in my red plastic flashlight blinked, tried to spur itself back to life, and then went completely out. Shaking the thing and smacking it against my palm didn't produce results, so my friend and I just stood there, in the darkness for a few seconds. Perhaps, our eyes would adjust and we'd be able to make our way out of this network of old WWII tunnels on the island of Corregidor, just off the shores of Luzon, Philippines.

The Malinta tunnel is one of those intriguing left overs that played an important roll in history. Even though based on foreign soil, General McArthur used it for an office, while the wings were used for emergency medical treatment and barracks - keeping the soldiers relatively safe from the bombing over-head. It's numerous twists and turns create a maze of concrete and stale, cool air - in which my friend and I had become hopelessly turned around.

you can get a good idea of the dark here, just imagine the lightsource gone

In the days of our adventure, the tunnel was not equipped with electricity, and the lights overhead that show current tourists the way in and out, had yet to be installed. So, we were pretty much stuck, trying to feel our way out - listening intently for the subtle change in sound and minute differences in air pressure that would indicate an entryway, or an opening in the concrete walls that surrounded us. It seemed hopeless. In a darkness so black that we could very literally not see our hands in front of our faces - the tremble of panic, slowly bubbled up in the back of my throat. Screaming at the tops of our lungs, would only produce an echo that would bounce off the domed roof ahead and hit our ears hard enough to make them ring. So calling out for help was pointless.

I took a deep breath. My friend did the same. Then we plugged on. Hoping our palms wouldn't disturb a spider nesting deep in the cracked walls and fighting against the fear that the sound of our shuffling feet might not scare off the snakes that called the place home before they were startled into striking. In my desperate attempt to find even the tiniest pinpoint of light - I tried with everything I had to push away thoughts of the assortment of creepy-crawlies that surly lie in wait, just beyond our next foot fall. My shoulders were hunched in my attempt to make myself small - I didn't want to disturb that bats that might hang above our heads, either.

Even now, more than thirty years later, I'll never forget those moments in the dark. I can still smell the earth-laden air and feel the roughness of the concrete under my fingertips. I can hear the crunch of eons of collected dust under our feet and feel the strain behind my eyes while my pupils repeatedly tried to focus on something ... ANYTHING but the unending darkness.

so tricky to avoid dead ends and find the true way out ....

And then it happened. I heard the small change in the echo we produced with our foot steps. I reached out to my left, and sure enough - I hit the rusted re-bar welded together to make a gate. FINALLY! I was confident we'd made it to the infirmary with it's hap-hazard divider of metal and stone.  As we rounded the corner we could see the smallest hint of light refracting off a well rounded wall that still had bullet holes scarring it's surface. Hope sprung up and erupted from us in breathy giggles. If we could see that light - the very real light at the end of the tunnel - we could make our way out to the surface. All we had to do was follow it.

Never have I been more thankful to step out into 104 degree sunshine and humidity so thick that we practically had to swim our way back to base camp. Never have I been more grateful for the light at the end of the tunnel.

In the book of John, Jesus tells us that HE is the light. In the throws of all this dark, all this turbulence and a seemingly unending sea of violent news reports, drug busts, and political take-overs - Jesus is our Light. The only true Light that leads us to life, to brilliant sunshine and warmth. He is the Light our eyes need in order to focus properly, in order to sleep [our eyes need to be exposed to a certain amount of light during the day in order to feel tired and sleepy at night]. Jesus is the Light  - like warm sunshine on our skin and the healthy absorption of natural Vitamin D. The Light that chases away the shadows, the deep cracks and crevasses where an assortment of creepy-crawlies lie in wait. He is everything good that the light brings - everything true and everything stable. All we have to do - is follow Him.

PhD Not Required

Proverbs 3:5 -- "Trust in the Lord with all you heart, and lean not on your own understanding."

Panting rather loudly and dripping with sweat, our hero Jack Burton sports an extremely confused look on his face - magnified, of course, by the fact that he's got bright red lipstick smeared all over his mouth. A reminder of the kiss he has just shared with one of two damsels in distress.  Jack has rather haphazardly come face to face with his nemesis, Lo Pan. Our knight in faded blue jeans and a dirty wife- beater t-shirt is attempting to remain gung-ho but has abruptly come to the conclusion that he has no idea what is going on. He expresses this rather well:

Jack: "I don't get this at all. I thought ....."
Lo Pan: "Shut up, Mr. Burton! You are not brought upon this world to get it!"

Jack shuts up - at least long enough for James Hong [playing the part of Lo Pan] to get his lines in. My three guys and I laugh and laugh - even though we've seen this film together at least a hundred times. We will, most likely see it together at least a hundred more.  It's a classic. [I was informed of this by my husband. He would know as he has been dubbed the "Sci-Fi King" by local movie retailers.]

In the crazy action-packed world of Jack Burton, [played by Kurt Russell]reality - as least reality as it had been to him - was suddenly turned on it's ear and the muscled toned, rather clumsy hero of ours has to roll with some pretty bazaar punches. The thing that struck me when this particular scene played out was that Jack Burton, does indeed, shut up. He also doesn't argue with Lo Pan. He accepts the situation for what it is - and realizes that the truth is, he doesn't have to get it.  He just has to move ahead.

Oh how this really does apply to us.

Glued to a history channel show the other day I found myself steaming at the ears. The crazy haired scientist spews forth several controversial, if not down right blasphemic "truths" about evolution and planetary history. He points out that one cannot prove God exists based on scientific discovery. He continued to say that all of the information we have gathered on the subject is inconclusive in that regard - and that one needs to study more in order to achieve true understanding.

Really?! Now, I'll give the History Channel a little credit here because it's at this point that we are granted an interview with the Pastor of a pretty well known church. The Pastor tells us that, trying to prove that God doesn't exist based on our limited ability and surroundings is very much like a character in a cartoon trying to take the colors and lines around him to try to disprove the cartoonist. Amen!, I thought and shouted from the kitchen. Very well said!

The truth of the matter is - I'm not put upon this earth to get it. I'm not here to scientifically prove Creation. I don't have to disprove the Big Bang Theory. In my way of thinking, it's a pointless debate. Because I trust in the Lord with all my heart. According to the Word that He's given us - God created the heavens and the earth - and that's ALL there is to it. I really don't have the burning need to know exactly how. That God created it is enough for me.

Trust in the Lord with all our heart and lean not on our own - very limited understanding. We really weren't put upon this earth "to get it".

An Unexpected Journey

Luke 10:41 -- "But the Lord answered and said to her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about so many things;"

My Ruby-troated beauty - I took this a few days ago.

Amidst the turquoise and blue salt-laden waves in the Gulf of Mexico there stands a beast forged of concrete and steel.  Steadily drumming into sand, sediment, and bedrock and surrounded by decades of controversy, oil rigs dot the otherwise pristine Gulf - almost like pin heads on a well-traveled map.   

A view from one these iron giants provides mostly vast, wide-open skies and a seemingly unending ocean. Thickly painted guard rails, emergency equipment and safety signs make up the scenery on top of one of these tin cans, and the interior barracks for employees doesn't offer up much by way of colorful decor, either. But if you stand in the right spot and look down the length of the rig, you'll be caught by a pleasant surprise. A relatively new addition - red hummingbird feeders meticulously maintained by some of the crew, swing from the rails. It might seem an odd place for a hummingbird feeder. And in truth, it wasn't until very recently that the Ruby-throated Hummingbird was discovered resting on one of these rigs, during it's migratory flight to Central America [namely Mexico] - where these amazing birds arrive every single year like clock-work, almost to the day - signifying the change in season.

That is an amazing journey if you think about it. The bright red feeders in my Saint Johns, Florida backyard are a far cry from Mexico. In fact, it's well over 500 miles as the crow flies [or in this case, as they hummingbird flies]. I'm in complete awe that this tiny little bird with a metabolism so fast it has to feed nearly every hour can make a 500+ mile flight in roughly 18 to 22 hours. Some of these tiny titans make the flight non-stop. That would be like you or I walking from the US to Russia without stopping for a glass of water. It's just plain crazy.

It boggles the mind. And it made me consider a well-known verse. "And who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" [Matthew 6:27].

The Ruby-throated Himmingbird can cross the Gulf of Mexico in a single flight. She doesn't worry about how she's going to get there. She doesn't stress over the fact there are no trees out there in the middle of all that water. Her needs are met by her Creator.

In Luke 10:41 Jesus stops in for a meal at what must have surly been the very meticulously kept home of Martha and her sister. Here, Martha's actions mirror my own when I have company.  I can picture her in a frenzy of cleaning and cooking, stressing out to the utmost of her capability because things have GOT to be perfect for her guest. Her guest was the Son of God, no less.  I can't imagine a more stressful situation for a host. Also like me, she kind of freaks out a little bit when her family doesn't bother to help her make things perfect. I mean, come on - doesn't her sister see that the place has to sparkle like a diamond? Doesn't she understand that there is work to be done?

I can see Jesus watching all of this. I can see him take Martha to a private side-bar where he shakes his head a little and does a parental "tsk tsk". This hits home for me on so many levels that I'm convinced when God inspired these words He knew what I was going to be like and was REALLY writing about me. But back then, Kelly wasn't exactly a popular name .... so He used the name Martha instead.

My Tiny Titan, taken 7/23/2013

It's not that Martha was doing a terrible thing. She took pride in her home. But if she remained focused on her tizzy - how could she focus on the Lord? All of her time would be spent cooking and cleaning, serving and then cleaning some more. She didn't have the time to sit and fellowship with Jesus. I have FINALLY learned that the time I can sit down and really spend with my guest is way more important that the gourmet meal I slave over and the sparkly condition of my home. I am not above calling in for Chinese take out if it means I can sit down and enjoy the meal with a beloved friend or family.

Jesus wants our time. Jesus wants us to fellowship. And consider this - who by worrying and bothering about so many, many things can add a single hour to his life? If our wonderful little hummingbird spent her energies worrying about her up coming journey she might not have the time she really needs to store up the fat that she will have to have to fuel her body.

I like the way Rick Warren put it: when I turn on the faucet to get water, I KNOW that the water isn't really coming from the faucet. It comes from the water company. I don't really worry that the spigot is going to run out of water. I don't worry about which faucet set to use in my home. The provider of said water isn't in the spigot itself. Fussing over the faucet isn't going to add to the amount of water is produces. The importance is in the provider.

If our Father provides for the Ruby-throated Hummingbird so she can cross the Gulf of Mexico - how much MORE will our Father provide for us, His children? It's time to stop fussing and fretting, isn't it? To shift our focus from "so many things" and put our focus completely on Christ.

Ask Me To Prove It

Malachi 3:10 -- "Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,” says the Lord Almighty, “and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it."

Most people can name at least one sound that grates on the nerves with an almost physical pain. While the irritation might not come from actual physical contact, the goose-bumps, clenching of teeth, and the twitching of the eye muscles sure do paint a picture of a human in agony. Observing an individual in the throws of this reaction to raw and abused nerves sometimes makes us laugh. Other times, we sympathize - all depending on the noise/trigger that set the body in an automatic and reflexive motion.

Lately, my noise/trigger is the telephone. Even changing the ring tone to an almost chiming melody doesn't prevent the shoulders from shrugging upward and my hands coming up over my ears. The issue isn't exactly the sound - so much as it is WHO might be calling. ...We've had a pretty rough month of things from a medical and emergency stand point. Countless doctors visits, three trips to the lab for blood work, a MAJOR case of Strep and a blown tire on the car have all reeked havoc on our bank account balance. So when the phone rings - I just KNOW it's someone in or somehow affiliated with the medical field. I have come to feel that my full-time job is Family Medical Secretary - doing all that I can to mediate communication between our medical providers and our medical insurance company.  Let's just say -- things have been interesting. [and I feel badly telling this story because I can name two of my friends with similar circumstances - only their situations are far, far more intense than my own].

It's during these times that my husband and I have learned to be very creative with our budget. However - even our creativity has it's limits. And I KNOW I'm not the only person feeling the strain as our country's economy works it's way through some pretty excruciating growing pains. [at least, the optimist in me has decided that we, as a Nation, ARE simply struggling through some growing pains]. 

This being the case in our house-hold - I almost did that involuntary cringe thing again when I came to the topic of today's personal Devo. 

You guessed it - tithing. My eyes slam shut completing the grimace on my face even typing out that word. I have failed in this department on so many occasions that the topic is an uncomfortable one. And - as I mentioned before - I am not alone.  The topic of tithing brings a somewhat shameful/embarrassed look to the faces of many people. 

Today - while stubbornly clinging to my numerous excuses for NOT tithing at the moment - I was pointed to this verse in Malachi. This ONE verse that I have somehow missed my entire life. This ONE verse that actually DARES us to test God. [I know - who knew, right?]

Bring your entire tithe - and just you see if I don't make your life better for it. You bring me your tithe - and lets just see if your medical bills are manageable, if there is food on the table, and a roof over your head. You bring me your tithe - I DARE you to bring me your tithe - and watch the bounty I bestow upon on you. 

Pretty strong medicine, if you ask me. I grew up learning all about how we soooooooo do NOT have the right to test God. [and this IS still true]. But here, in Malachi - God actually tells us, "test me in this". This is the only verse I have found in which God asks us to say .... "prove it". Go ahead - ask Me to prove it.

And here's the kicker. Not only is that one verse a total inspiration to commit to tithing - which, admittedly seems so very scary right now - but in the passage that precedes this verse, God tells us that: "You are under a curse - your WHOLE nation - because you are robbing me".

It comes to this: Does God need our meager dollars? No. He really doesn't. But He asks for our hearts. He asks for obedience. What greater expression of our love and devotion and obedience could there be than to completely trust Him with a thing that, here on earth, amounts to security? If the very FIRST thing I do with my income is honor God - I have very surely shown Him that I am completely His. I have put feet to my faith and proclaimed that God is, indeed, God of my ENTIRE life. Not just the parts that I feel comfortable giving Him - but EVERY part of my life.

Food for thought, no? It is NOT going to come easily, I think - so I'll have to pin this verse to my wallet. I'm going to claim it as my own and obey with ALL of what I have.

Up To The Task

Jeremiah 32:17 -- "Ah Lord God! Behold, You have made the heavens and the earth by Your great power and by Your outstretched arm! Nothing is too difficult for You."

no task too difficult .... 

Without even thinking about it, my nails were in my mouth, where I anxiously tried to chew on what's left of them with pure nervous energy. I don't usually chew my nails - I cut them so short that the action is next to impossible because of the crafts I enjoy .... but on this night, I attempted to chew. My insides were wrapped up tighter than a coil - and they felt ready to spring at any moment.

My son works nights. I see him very briefly in the mornings when I'm on my way up and he's on his way to bed. Earlier that morning, he mentioned that a crime had occurred as he pulled into the parking lot of his work place. He made the statement very casually, and the nerves hadn't caught up with me until it was time for him to leave for work, once again. 

I was so tense, I almost couldn't stand it. Much to his embarrassment, I'm sure, I even offered to drive him to work and drop him off [for all the good THAT would do - sometimes I don't think these things out]. Instead, I kissed him bye and told him to be careful. As if he would do anything less - like, my instruction that he take care is going to steer him away from danger.

Then, I just sat there. Maybe I should call him on his cel until he gets to work. Maybe I should call the store to see if he made it ok. Maybe I could ask for police escort ..... [yeah, I know .... again, I demonstrate that I was not really thinking rationally].

Jeremiah reminds us - lets face it, reminds ME - that nothing is too difficult for God. He created us. He made the heavens and the earth! I think He can handle the few short miles of well lit black-top my son has to travel in order to get to work. It took me several minutes with my fingers in my mouth to calm down and remember Who is really in control. Why would I WANT to take that control away from God during the moments I need Him most?

So I prayed. I know my family prays with me. I know my son's grandparents pray with me. I know my friends pray with me.  At the moment my son left for work there were literally battle lines drawn with all the intercessory prayer going on for him. NOTHING is too difficult for God. NOTHING! Even when it comes to the safety of our children.  ESPECIALLY when it comes to the safety of our children. Jeremiah says it right out - there is GREAT power by God's outstretched arm. And if I think I love my son -- how much greater does our Lord love him? In my human heart - I only think I know love. God invented it!

I'm not naive. I know that sometimes bad things happen to good people. But I also know not to borrow trouble. Matthew tells us that. I KNOW that my God is in control. I KNOW that nothing is too difficult for Him. He is so great in power ... where as all I am, is mostly great in worry. So I let go. I sigh deep and pray that the Lord command His angels over my son. I remind my son to put on the full armor of God and I kiss my baby bye so He can go shine The Light, like God has instructed him to do. 

Nothing is too difficult for our Amazing Father.

Wide Angle Lenses

Luke 21:28 -- "Lift up your heads, because your redemption draws near."

Ruby Throated Humingbird Baby I photographed a couple of days ago

The Crape Myrtle root was jabbing into my tush and I had a spider making his way up my arm. I was itchin' to rub at the sweat trickling down my back and the burn in my shoulders was starting to become unbearable. But I didn't dare move. The hummingbird I'd been tracking at the bird feeder was finally perched on it's edge. While I seriously doubt she could have seen me, nestled deeply and rather uncomfortably in the bush daisies underneath the Crape Myrtle tree - I didn't want to lose the shot by making any sudden movements. All excitement, I pressed the shutter button and held my breath in a hope that the rapid fire of the aperture wouldn't scare the bird.

Bingo. The shots were nearly perfect. Five hours underneath that tree in 90+ degree weather paid off. I'm mostly pleased with the pay-out of all the discomfort.

Mostly.

Here's what I missed: With a horrible cramp working it's way from my shoulder to my wrist as I held aching fingers to the camera locked onto the tri-pod - dead focused on catching a shot of the little hummingbird mamma - from the corner of my eye, I can see that my Downy Woodpecker landed in the Magnolia tree next to me. I've never been able to catch her with the camera. If I had not had the camera so tightly trained on the hummingbird feeder and had pulled a wider focus - I would have been able to FINALLY photograph the woodpecker.

My focus was too tight. And I think we do that so often in our lives.

Ruby Throated Hummingbird Momma I photographed a couple of days ago from under the Crape Myrtle tree

 

In Luke, we are encouraged to lift up our heads - our redemption is near. If we spend all our time zeroed in on our situations - on the economy - on school - on retirement issues - on  our health [you get the picture] we don't see the bigger picture. We miss out on some pretty incredible things around us. Like me and the pretty Downy Woodpecker.

Pulling a wider angle - we can focus on God, and on what He's doing all around us. I mentioned, not too long ago, that my Mother has this great suggestion: focus on God's love. I think that applies to all His works, as well. Lift up your head - don't focus on your feet as you travel this road of ours - instead, look up, focus on God and His path for us. On the victory and celebration we will have, when Jesus comes back to take us all Home.

Deeply Rooted

Psalm 1:2-3 -- "But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and in His law he meditates day and night. He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in its season and its leaf does not wither; and in whatever he does, he prospers."

our neighborhood pool

It could not have been more perfect. My two best friends on this earth, gorgeous sunshine, and crystal waters in the pool/water park at our neighborhood rec. center. Warm sunshine on our shoulders and cool water in which to float, the three of us enjoyed fellowship with kindred spirits in what felt like a retreat - a "staycation" if you will. In Florida Summers, however - one must get these glorious moments when the gettin's good - because more often than not, the hot air inland wages war with the cooler breezes off the ocean and by early afternoon, the thunderstorms roll in.

This day was no exception. Looking above the thick line of trees that boarder the rec center I saw the dark clouds creep in, ready to pounce. The wind picked up, the barometric pressure dropped, and the temperature cooled down a couple of degrees.  Definitely storm territory. And while I'm not averse to swimming in the rain - the infamous Florida lightning is a completely different matter. So ... these three fish abandoned the pool.

I love the sharp contrast of deep green trees, lush with saturated leaves, and bright green St. Augustine grass when held against a black sky full of storm clouds. There is just something about a storm rolling in, the way the light changes and the wind blows up that makes the green pop in a vivid display. I watched the trees.

fallen Oak after a storm

In storm fueled microbursts, the Cypress and the Pines in the forest around us began to sway - almost line dancing to the rumble of the thunder that would follow. Pine trees catch lightning the way a cast net gathers fish off of our sub-tropical coasts - but they very rarely break in the wind. Cypress trees almost NEVER break in the wind. On the other hand, Live Oak, a time-honored symbol of the deep south with their long branches and Spanish Moss - fall over like Southern Belles embarrassed by foul language. The reason? Live Oak trees look strong and wide, but their roots don't go very deep into the ground. Add a good stiff wind, throw in some over-saturated turf and those giant beauties take a very heavy fall. A Pine or a Cypress tree? ... have roots firmly and deeply planted into the Florida soil. Cypress trees, in particular, have roots that anchor deep and fan out - almost resembling the lightning that spider veins across the sky in a good sub-tropical weather tantrum. The roots make all the difference. 

In Psalm 1 - we are reminded to grow deep roots. Deep roots provide room to grow, room to blossom, room to bare fruit. The part of the tree above ground is not the part that will save it in a storm or keep it healthy enough to pollinate. It all comes down to the roots.

Just like us. 

It's not the Sunday morning church service or the annual Christmas pageant that will save us in a spiritual crisis. It's not the Wednesday night prayer meeting that will make us healthy enough to bare fruit. It's DAILY meditation. Roots planted firmly and deeply in the Word of God. Our bright and shiny Sunday Best may present an appealing and even beautiful package - but as it has so very often been said - beauty is only skin deep. Like a Live Oak. Breathtaking greens, wonderfully textured bark with deep ridges and silky, flowing Spanish Moss - do not keep the thing from toppling over in a Florida Hurricane. 

Deep, firm roots. Not only will we whether the weather with this solid anchor - but we will prosper. That's key. Not only do I get to survive the tumultuous weather patterns of my life, to grow tall and strong - but I get to flourish. I get to prosper. I get to bare fruit in my season with leaves that don't wither.  I get to .... spread the pollen. Spread the Word. Prosper.




How amazing is that?

Mirror, Mirror

Ephesians 4:24 -- "Put on your new nature, created to be like God -truly righteous and holy."

With the nurse's back turned to us while she did some fancy finger work on a computer key-board, Steven reached over and started poking my baby's toes. By baby I mean my six foot and then some fifteen year old - and by poking his toes, I mean Steven really did start poking his toes.

I just looked at him, wondering what he was trying to figure out by pressing into pink skin with enough muster to make a white spot on the second toe joint of Tyler's middle toe. Looking down from his very tall stature onto the top of his Dad's head, Tyler asks what in the world is Dad looking for?

It hit me. I smiled. Big. Then answered for my husband [a thing that he graciously puts up with on numerous occasions]. "You've got my toes".

Steven looked up at me with a smile almost as big as mine and said: "Yes, he does."

"Ok", I replied. "But everything else I'm blaming on you." And I winked at Tyler - who's ears were turning more red by the minute - [a good indication that his Dad and I took our parental responsibilities seriously and sufficiently embarrassed him in front of his nurse.]

We found ourselves sitting at a nurse's station at Nemours Children's Medical Facility because Tyler - just like his Dad - has been diagnosed with Hoshimoto's Disease [aka: Hoshimoto's Hypothyroidism]. Essentially, this means that Tyler's immune system has erroneously come to the conclusion that his thyroid is a foreign body and has waged war against it - a fight to the death, as it were. This can be remedied with a synthetic replacement thyroid hormone - so THAT part at least was good news. . But, Hoshimoto's Hypothyroidism is a genetic anomaly, handed down through a family blood line. And THAT is the reason I told my husband that I was blaming everything else on him. You know ... like father, like son and the like ....  

The truth of the matter is: I would LOVE, LOVE, LOVE it if "everything else" could, indeed, be "blamed" on Steven. I adore Steven and have long since considered myself the lucky one in our marriage. It would make me beyond proud if Tyler took to HIS likeness more than he did mine. [So far, so good, by the way - I say with a smile].

I am reminded of Ephesians. I am reminded that we are called to live as Children of Light. We are called to grow in OUR Father's likeness. In Ephesisans 4 verse 17, we are flat out told to "no longer live as the Gentiles do, for they are hopelessly confused."

[Side bar, if I may: slightly off point but, I feel that I MUST point out that nowhere in the Bible does it say we can BEOME God. We cannot become a god or anything remotely resembling one - contrary to some out there who believe otherwise].

Rick Warren once drew focus to the "Put on your new nature"  part of this verse. I liked his focus because he pointed out that our existence here on Earth is a lesson in character development. In verse 22 of this chapter in Ephesians we are instructed to throw off our sinful nature, to give up our former ways of life and to instead, allow the Holy Spirit to renew our thoughts and attitudes.

We need to GROW. We need to STRIVE to be like our Father. We are never told, not ONE time, that we are going to get there. We will NEVER get there. But like so many things in our earthly existence - the value is in the journey. The joys, celebrations, and accomplishments are all wrapped in the road from point A to point B, not the actual destination - the finish line is an eternity in our Amazing Father's presence. But while on this earth - the purpose, the point to it all - is the journey.

Mirror, mirror - what face looks back at me when I step up to mirrored glass? Can I see my Father in me? Have I allowed the Holy Spirit to renew my thoughts and attitudes?

I'm going to put a big yellow Post-It Note on my mirror - it will say: "Who do you see?" Perhaps, seeing it there right next to my face every day, I'll remember to constantly strive for a different reflection.

The Sleeper Has Awakened!!

Revelation 22:17 -- "Whoever desires, let him take the water of life freely."

Hot, orange sands blow up into clouds that resemble twisters as the winds buffet them around worms that stand taller than the empire state building. From these giant worms, flowering mouths with millions of teeth open and seem to produce song - but instead, offer up a kind of moaning/growling noise that we [the audience] can feel through the floors thanks to the audio magic of the sub-woofer. The blue within blue eyes of our hero face heavenward and our Shai-Hulud shouts into the desert with a booming, victorious voice: the sleeper has awakened!.

Watch out Arrakis [that's the planet we are on], our hero is about to bust some heads.

Deep within this desert planet that smells like cinnamon, one of my all time favorite authors, Frank Herbert, has artfully created a nomadic group of people that eek out a meager but thriving existence because they know how to reclaim water. However, there is a water that not one of them can drink before it's been magically filtered through a "holy person". Once this holy person drinks, gets terribly ill and spews forth what is now the acceptable "water of life" [ew, gross] all of the nomadic people may partake of it free of the fear that the toxins that formerly laced this frothy libation will kill them. [again, ew, gross].

a deadly drink turned pure

Only when this stuff is filtered through the one person with the right set of qualifications can John-Q-Nomad drink of it safely. And trust me, a purely desert group of people NEED all the water they can get.

....and..... so do we.

Not unlike the nomadic desert dwellers of Dune [also known as Arrakis] not just any water will work for us. Sipping from spiritual water stores willy-nilly will NOT get us to the thirst-quenching bliss for which our souls so deeply hunger. There is only ONE man with the right set of qualifications to filter the otherwise spiritually damaging mumbo-jumbo so richly abundant on our own planet. And by God's amazing grace - Jesus has already done all the filtering.

We no longer have to wade through religious ceremony and bloody spiritual cleansing to reach out and take the water we so desperately need. The REAL water of life. In Revelation 22:17, we are reminded that the water is now "good to go". Any soul that needs it [and we all do] can drink of it freely.

Listening to some absolutely beautiful music as the end-credits roll and we discover all that went into the making of this sci-fi classic, I am drawn to the correlation between Dune's Shai-Hulud - and our very real hero, Jesus Christ.  I hopefully and joyfully await the day the "Sleeper" awakens, when our Lord Jesus returns to this planet to take us all home. In the mean time, I'll enjoy his life-giving water and cherish the precious encouragement in God's Word.

Lunar Leaping

Matthew 7:14 -- "Small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it."

Just as the Florida summer was settling in to get comfortable with it's promise of warm sea-side adventures and wonderful afternoons chock full of rope swing launches into local watering holes, a  man by the name of Cliff Charlesworth sat with busy fingers and a bulky head-set at command central. He sat [or more likely, he paced] in a room so tense that one had to practically swim through it to get to the other side.

His job? To guide three brave individuals aboard the Apollo 11 all the way to the moon, and then all the way back home to this great blue marble. Safely. AND - he had to do this from miles and miles away. An endeavor that surly took Eisensteinian math skills Mr. Charlesworth had to ensure that the Apollo space craft remained on a VERY narrow, correct path. As the earth continued to spin and the moon spun around the earth, room for error and the resulting deviation from that very narrow path was ZERO. A slight miscalculation would send the team hurling out into the black space beyond the moon with little, if any, way to get back.

Talk about your narrow road.

But because everyone stuck to the plan and there was no deviation from the very narrow flight path, on July 20th of 1969 Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins, and Buzz Aldrin made it all the way to our celestial neighbor, planted a few footprints on it's soft, dusty Sea of Tranquility, and then landed - quite literally - with a splash back here on our home planet. An amazing feat that forever changed American history AND the history of the human race.

The extremely thin line between success and a total disaster ending in death - was all about keeping the space module on the aforementioned very narrow flight path.

Sound a little familiar? In a jumbled super highway of personal beliefs, religious cults, and superstitious cultures, it might FEEL like there are so many, many pathways that lead to life and success. It might seem that really all one has to do it pick one. Don your hiking shoes, pick the path most prosperous, most comfortable and viola! Life. Happiness. Big fat bank accounts and huge houses, perfect children that lead perfect lives ... and at the end of it all, we can close our eyes and bid farewell to this hustle and bustle by gently passing "to the other side" for a long peaceful post-earth existence in bliss.

We are thousands of years away from the moment Jesus first spoke the words that Matthew jotted down in his notes - but there is STILL only one path that leads to salvation and life. Amid the confusion of a plethora of church doctrines, mission statements, and styles of worship - the road is still narrow and the gate is still small. Why will only a few find it?

In general, we as a species don't really like difficult, narrow paths. We tell ourselves that it's better to be open-minded, tolerant, or maybe more understanding of those who may harbor different personal moral views than those of our own. But the truth of the matter is - as a dear friend recently put it - the very commitment we've made to follow Christ makes us intolerant. If I stand for Jesus, then I cannot stand for the things that he's made very clear are not pleasing to him. In very plane language God has given us His Living Word as a light - to shine brightly on that narrow road. We CAN see where we are going. And while the gate IS small, God has already given us the Key to enter.

There are certainly going to be times when we feel stuck on a rigid path that so many of our earthly acquaintances have chosen NOT to take. And there are definitely times when standing up for a thing that we know is right [take pro-life vs. pro-choice for example] is going to leave a bitter taste in the mouths of those around us. But let's not confuse compassion and grace for a passport to relinquish our grip on God's laws. For example: murder is wrong. God is very clear on that. If a cherished loved one or a member of our churches or even a person in our own family murders some one - it's STILL wrong. I don't have to cuss at them. I don't have to spit at them and call them names. But I certainly CAN'T tell them that the actions they took were a personal choice that I will accept.

We CANNOT do that.

Mr. Charlesworth had a very straight forward and clear cut directive. Keep the Apollo 11 on a clear and safe path to the moon and back. He didn't tinker around with the personal opinions of his team members. He didn't accept any other trajectory other than the one he knew to be right. If he had done otherwise, our history books would have a much different story within their thick pages.

On a planet with 24/7 news channels, internet, and instant text messaging - it may be a bit difficult to keep our eyes on the road - to remain steadfast on the clear-cut trajectory that Jesus tells us is the right path. But veering off that path will grant us nothing but devastation, sorrow, and failure. Keep to the narrow road. At the end of it is REAL victory. REAL celebration, and REAL life. Just like the very narrow path taken by those aboard the Apollo 11 space module.

'Saved Alone'

II Corinthians 12:9 -- "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

fateful telegram to Horatio Spafford

I can put my head there - my body rocking slowly, gently on top of waves and quiet that nearly put me to sleep. I can't see much past the bough of the boat for lack of light - but I can hear the water. I feel the salt on the wind. I can see the stars high above me blinking and winking at me, maybe weeping along with the painful beating of my own heart. Peering out into the dark Atlantic Ocean - I can see where the SS Ville du Havre ran head long into the Loch Earn in the dead of a dark night back in 1873. I can put my head there, I can feel the night, I can feel the ache along with Horatio Spafford, rocking gently on top of waves that seem to mourn the spot on the deep blue brine where a ship wreck claimed his four daughters.  I can feel the weight of the telegram, scribbled in hasty hand, tugging on him as it hides in his pocket. On it two words stood out. Saved Alone. Maybe he can hear his wife's voice in his mind, the tone she used when giving her message to the telegraph operator as she spoke those two devastating words. I can see shaky hands and ink stained fingers as Horatio tenderly, quietly put pen to paper.

On that yellowed page of hand made paper - ink bled into the fibers, pouring out the heart of a very broken man. It Is Well With My Soul - he wrote.

Perhaps, timing the connection of pen and paper with the points and troughs of the waves, he offered up his heart by capturing the words of his prayer onto sea dampened paper:

When sorrows like sea billows roll, he wrote -  Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to KNOW it is well with my soul.

Hand written poem, It Is Well With My Soul

Horatio didn't just lose his daughters. Before the collision of two ships in the night, back 1871, the great Chicago fire took his livelihood along with the old buildings that ran along cobble stoned streets. A successful attorney in The Windy City, Horatio's offices were lost in the blaze. Shortly thereafter - the ash-laden skeletal remains of his financial assets were lost to a crippling economic nose dive as 1872 sluggishly sloughed through the stale smoke and charred cavernous remains of a once booming town - and dragged itself into 1873.

A very broken man. I liken him to Job. This comparison is not a stretch at all. 

Picking up the pieces and clinging to hope with his wife, Horatio was blessed with three more children. In 1880, however, one of those three children [his only son] died at the age of four from Scarlet Fever.


Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate, and hath shed His own blood for my soul. It is well with my soul, Horatio wrote.

What did Horatio do in the wave of all this torment? in the throws of his bone-crushing grief?

 For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live: if Jordan above me shall roll, no pang shall be mine, for in death as in life, thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul. Is is well with my soul, he wrote.

He packed up his bags, his wife, his two daughters: toddler Bertha and new-born Grace - and moved ... to ISRAEL. Israel? Why? Because he recognized a need.  A ministry. It was in Jerusalem, a foreign land far removed from an attorney's cushy office and steady income, Horatio started a ministry called The American Colony. Through that ministry, Horatio served the poor and needy. He did NOT cling to the graveyard that was his former prosperous life. He did not move his family to the head stones that bore the names of his five deceased children and there live out his days mourning an insurmountable loss.

But Lord, 'tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait, the sky, not the grave, is our goal; oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord! blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul. It is well with my soul, Horatio wrote.

Horatio Spafford

Oh death, where is thy sting? Where is thy victory oh, grave?

There is none. And the GRACE of our Lord Jesus Christ .... IS sufficient.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, the clouds be rolled back as a scroll; the trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend, A song in the night, oh my soul! It is well with my soul he wrote.  He lived. He served.

Billy Graham once wrote: Comfort and prosperity have never enriched the world as much as adversity. Out of pain and problems have come the sweetest songs, the most poignant poems, the most gripping stories, the most inspiring lives.

He couldn't be more right. In my short-sighted frustration and to whatever pain I might cling like a martyr in my life - I need but look back through history and see the even greater pain and loss suffered by fellow Christians. The energy expended to produce the pout expressed on my sometimes VERY self-centered face looses it's steam, the strength of the grip I use to hang on so desperately to my own perceived suffering evaporates in the face of brothers and sisters in Christ who have lived before me, around me - and will live after me - as they stubbornly perch themselves upon the solid rock of Jesus Christ and his unshakable grace.

Sweet Jesus, my Savior - your grace is sufficient. It [whatever IT might be]is, indeed, well with my soul. Because my soul was purchased with your blood.

It Takes a Village

Ecclesiastes 4:12 -- "A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer. Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken."

My Cake Tent - before the fire

Travel the world over and I think this truth is pretty much the same anywhere your plane hits the runway: every bride remembers her wedding day. I can remember mine like it was yesterday, though it will have been sixteen years ago come this August.

It HAD to have been THE hottest day of the year, and down here in Florida, that's sayin' something. But we still had a wonderful turn out on the Saint Johns River, the sun was bright, the lake produced small little waves that lapped against the bulk-head, and the rains held off until after the service. It was gorgeous, even when the "cake tent" [that I'd spent hours creating by hand at four o'clock that morning] went up in flames while I was putting on my gown. One of the citronella candles used to ward of mosquitoes was placed a little too close to the sheer folds of draping fabric - all it took was a sturdy little breeze that sneaked in off the lake -- and bingo .... pink and white inferno. Thankfully, the cake had not been placed on the table inside the thing yet and most of the presents had been removed from the flames before any real damage was done. What an exciting beginning, huh?

Me with The League of Extraordinary Prayer Warriors

After the amazing service, the exchange of vows - written and officiated by my Dad - it was time to take a few photos. My brother as photographer, set up one picture that I'll cherish always and never forget the posing for it. The shot was taken of a special group of Super Heroes. Six incredible people, while not donned in spandex and fluttering capes, were granted by the grace of God, the super human stamina, compassion, totally unconditional love, and extraordinary patience needed to encourage me through my child hood. And, I have to admit - through some pretty rough growing pains [not MY pains mind you, but the pains endured by THEM as I grew up]. At times, the journey that was my youth could only be described as a rough one that left these beautiful people exhausted and frustrated,  but they never failed to nurture with a wonderful and generous heart for yours truly. This league of extraordinary people - I have dubbed, my six parents.  [From left: Charlie and Bette Hawkins - fellow missionaries to the Philippines, Me in the middle, My Mom and Dad, and Sherry and Larry Ayers - life-long friends and fellow Kentuckians.] The photo is precious to me and I'm forever grateful my brother thought to take it.

I could not help but think of them as I read the verse in Ecclesiastes 4 today. A person [or parent] alone can be attacked and defeated. This could not be more true when it comes to the raising of our young. Whether the little tykes be raised on the mission field as I was, or home-grown in the back yard of the country in which they were born - it really DOES take a village. Moms and Dads out there have enough to deal with just being a couple dedicated to Christ - but chuck in a couple of rug-rats, and the spiritual journey can be even MORE arduous.

It's wonderful that God provides blue prints in His Word. One set of parents alone might, indeed, struggle in the battle for spiritual victory where their kids are concerned.  But two sets of parents can stand back-to-back .... three? Even better! Three sets of amazing, God-fearing parents braided together in dedication, service, passion, and devotion form a cord that is not easily broken. [Trust me when I say that in the raising if THIS particular child, there were moments when these six super heroes needed all the strong cord they could get ;) ]

a wedding card rescued from the tent flames

Prayer warriors - that's what they are. Parents that hold down the fort, share the love  of Jesus Christ and instill the grace of God in their children - are super hero prayer warriors. I share my parental journey with a few people I trust and cherish just as my parents did [all six of them] in my youth - as they set a loving and sturdy example of a strongly braided cord. ....and as they continue to do in the lives of their grandchildren. It really DOES take a village.



And I could NOT be more grateful for these six - this league of extraordinary prayer warriors.

The Quiet Game

Genesis 24:21 -- "The servant watched her in silence, wondering whether or not the Lord had given him success in his mission."

The moment we stepped through the front door I was in awe. Excitement welled up and a big grin spread across my face.  The house had more than I had ever wanted. Five wonderful bedrooms, a huge kitchen with lots of pantry space, three full bathrooms, no carpet, lots of glass to let in natural light, a huge back yard right on the water way with a giant deck for sunning and grilling.  Gorgeous!! I asked question, we started crunching numbers in our heads, and we calculated how far it would be from Steven's office.......

Ah, bliss. Or was it?

When we made the decision to move more than a year ago, we prayed and prayed, asked friends to pray, and then prayed some more.  I'd been looking for the right place for months. I needed room to continue our home based education, and wanted extra space to have family from out of town comfortably stay the night with us from time to time. The giant fridge and modern appliances were a plus - but not necessarily a requirement.  The fact is, the very first home we toured had me in complete awe, hypnotized by the location and the space - ready start moving in right away. Surely THIS was the answer to all of our prayers.

So blissfully excited, on the ride back home I asked all three of my guys what they thought about it.  Of course it was unanimous, we all loved it.  The numbers were on the extreme high end of what we'd planned for a budget but we fell in love so quickly with the space that we kept coming up with reasons to talk ourselves into taking the financial leap.

Back home, packing up more boxes, the reality of the situation set in. The hoops we were going to have to jump through to make that specific house a reality were just too great in number and too high above our heads. We could have contorted ourselves like members of a crazy circus act - twisting around the double deposit and the cost of moving supplies, the additional deposits required to switch utilities to a new county, the fact that a property management company wasn't involved,  and the fact that we would have to take the interstate just to go grocery shopping -- but would that really be wise?

Steven and I both reached for the tape to close the box now filled with hard-back books by my favorite authors. In a pause, we both looked at each other in silence and mentally connected in a way that years of marriage affords a couple .... we both resigned ourselves to the notion that our search wasn't over. We were back to the drawing board.

Here's the thing: so very excited to make the move, after hours of prayer beseeching our Father for the right place for the right price within the right number of miles from Steven's office....I had answered our prayers on my own.  I didn't take the time and the quiet I really should have to allow GOD to do the answering. I raced in at full speed so excited to get the ball rolling, that I overlooked some of the obstacles, the HUGE hurtles we would have to jump in order to make the move.

In Genesis, Abraham's servant Eliezer had the exact right idea. On bended knee he prayed for God's help. He asked our Father to fulfill his need, for success, for the right bride to bring home to Isaac.  And Eliezer - soooo unlike myself - sat back in silence.  He didn't rush up to the well, camel skin in hand, waving it around to show that it was empty. He didn't approach Rebekah with leading questions, giving her clues so she could come up with the right answers and therefore solve the puzzle that Eliezer had devised so he could be certain of his choices. No. He watched her in silence. He waited for God to give HIM the answer to his prayers, rather than answering them on his own.

Last night, I spent a wonderful ladies night out with some of the most beautiful women I'll ever meet. These three precious ladies have known me a very long time, and I enjoy the comfort, the joy, the fellowship gifted to me through all those years. I was ready on time when one of them came to pick me up so we could drive on out to our rendezvous at Chili's. Do you know HOW she could come and pick me up? Because I live a few houses away from her. In THIS house, the answer to so many hours of prayer - I am close to one of my very dearest friends. I have never lived this close to a treasured friend before. I'm less than two blocks away from a grocery store.  I'm still on the water and have room for the class room.  And the numbers didn't leave Steven and I walking an impossible tight rope that would leave us dangling, clinging by a few exhausted fingers that would eventually slip and leave us splattered on the ground below.

THIS house, this place, this point in time .... are all GOD's answers to our prayers. Not mine. His timing is so much more prefect than ours. His plans are perfect. All we have to do, is sit back and watch in silence. Be still so we can hear His voice.

Cliff Diving

Genesis 24:42 -- "So today when I came to the spring, I prayed this prayer: 'O Lord, God of my master Abraham, please give me success on this mission.' "

We were so far out in the middle of nowhere that the waves rolling in, some fifty feet below were almost non-existent. No splashing and crashing into the cliff face or plunging ashore on the beach some hundred yards to my right. Nope ... nearly a dead calm. The ocean is more likely to look like that a ways out from solid ground than it is at sea-side. So standing there, looking down into an all but black ocean with who knows what below the surface looking up at me, I began to feel the butterflies running a-muck in my tummy - let loose from their cages and ordinarily dormant state of calm.

The four people I'd agreed to go hiking with were pressed up closely against my back...timidly peering over the cliff face - seemingly hiding behind me in reverent silence.  We were hot.  We'd ventured out in the wee hours of day-light, far from our camp sight on this marvelous Senior Class last hoorah before graduation. It was high noon, and a dip in that cool water was calling to us loudly. Hoping to get as far 'round the island as possible and then circle back to camp,  we'd come as far as the earth was going to let us go - unless we took a dip to swim around the jagged point that jutted out into the wild Pacific, it seemed that our hike had come to a premature end.

I let out a deep breath. "Well?" Heath asked. Nikki looked up at me in anticipation of my answer.  How come I was suddenly group leader? I don't recall bringing it up for a vote.  And technically, Heath was on the student counsel....I was just a class member. AND .... we were far removed from school property so none of the politics mattered, anyway.

I looked down again.  Then, I took in a deep lung full or air and plunged myself over the side, tucking my knees to my chest in a cannon ball and pushing off with as much momentum as I could muster.  My hope was, jumping as far out from the cliff as possible I might not hit volcanic rocks hidden beneath the surface up against the drop off -- and using a canon ball, I might generate a big enough splash to scare any marine life that might be hanging out in the calm. I figured, they would be more frightened than curious and dart out of my way.

I guess it worked. My cowardly comrades [as I like to think of them] were peeking over the cliff face in anticipation of my re-surface. Again, Heath shouted out to me "well?".

I gave them the thumbs up and one-by-one, they followed my fearless, if perhaps, not-to-bright leap over the edge. That's when I felt it. The jelly-fish. Every inch of me started to sting and I cried out.  We were too close to the other side to head back, so we kept on until to we found access to a sandy shore, and then sloughed out to get a look at the damage.

Definitely stung, but thankfully not scarred, we took a gander at our resources. No one had to pee [sadly?] so we took dry sand and scraped our legs and arms until they were raw, drawing out some of the poison, but certainly taking some of the sting. The "crisis" over, we kept on hiking. It was a brilliant tropical day, and we couldn't get back the way we'd come .... so we just kept on going.

It occurs to me now, that in spite of what I may have believed when I was seventeen, I was NOT invincible.  The outcome of our little stunt could have been very different.

Ever leap before you looked? How did THAT turn out?

In a newly discovered on-line devotional sight I was introduced to a daily study by Rick Warren. In today's post, he talks about planning and praying. In Gensis 24, Eliezer has been given the task of finding a bride for Isaac.  He didn't jump off the cliff face without a plan. And he prayed for a successful mission. It certainly made me think. And it reminded me of my senior class trip, when I jumped fifty feet into deep waters without really thinking it through.

I like that Eliezer recognized right away, that he may have been slightly over his head in his quest.  He didn't waste any time trying to get the thing done on his own.  He thought it through and prayed for help. He prayed for assistance. He prayed ..... for SUCCESS.

It sometimes amazes me how often I don't even think to pray for success. I don't know why. I often pray for help, for strength, for healing, .... even for inspiration, but it doesn't occur to me to pray for success. Perhaps it's way past time I did, no? One would think that the jelly fish "attack" [that bothers me to this day], would be a good reminder to pray and plan before I jump into a situation with both feet.

I'm thankful that God sends us gentle reminders now and then. I am ever in awe of His living Word.

Into Sweet Focus

Lamentations 3:22 -- "The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease."

I knew that sound. I also had a pretty good idea what caused it. As I rounded the corner into the kitchen I confirmed what the sinking knot feeling in my stomach was telling me.  The old Godfather's Pizza Coke pitcher lay in hundreds of pieces all over the kitchen tile floor. I breathed out a sigh and my shoulders slumped.  Those things are pretty tough to find, even on E-bay and it had taken me forever to finally locate one and then miraculously win the bid for it.

Acting on pure and quite misplaced hope, I started scooping up all the pieces I could get my hands on -- a tiny glimmer of enthusiasm at the extremely slight chance I might be able to glue it back together....but as the pieces got smaller and smaller and were found as far away as the cat food bowl in the dining room, I pushed up off my knees and reached for the broom instead. It was not fixable -- no matter how hard I hoped and how strong my desire, the thing was not going to be put back the way it once was, gleaming in it's stained-glass beauty, chef's hand outlined in bold black as it held out what was probably a really wonderful pizza. The bright Coke-a-cola red reflecting the kitchen lights and those wonderfully hap-hazard cursive letters spelling out Coke in white - raised from the surface of the glass - were, indeed, a thing of the past.

Some things, we cannot restore. Some things, we cannot bring back to original sparkle and shine. I have learned this the hard way in my own life.

Like Humpty Dumpty, in a sea of broken egg shell, there are many things in my own experiences that I have had a powerful desire to fix. An almost obsessive drive to take a broken thing and make it whole again, a stringent passion to apply elbow grease and a really good spit-shine until the thing is bright and shiny - the cracks and scarring no longer visible, even if using a magnifying glass.

And -- much like Humpty Dumpty -- the hope and passion I have for a thing, doesn't necessarily make it fixable. It's in THAT moment, the almost physical switching of gears in my brain -- that I change my focus from ER nurse and ambulance driver - to clean-up crew with a mop and broom. The trick is ... knowing when to switch gears. ...or at least, that's what I thought.

In a wonderfully tired, late night moment at my kitchen bar, sitting on re-claimed bar stools picked up from a thrift store, beautifully ceremonious and comforting hot tea steaming from bright red coffee mugs - my Mom [even more beautiful and comforting] put her mug on the counter top and looked me right in the eye. She said - focus on God's love.

Could it really be THAT simple? In my quite obsessive quest to fix whatever thing might be broken in my life at the moment, is it really as simple as bringing into sweet focus, the amazing, never-ending, unconditional love of our Father?

I think my Mom, just might be right. [I know she is, she usually is....but even now, well out of my rebellious teen-age years I am a stubborn person.] I take a deep sip of my Sleepy Time Herbal Tea and peer up over the rim of my mug [maybe hiding just a little] and look into my Mother's wonderful brown eyes. It's amazing how this woman loves me in spite of the trouble I can be for her.

Maybe it's not about switching gears. Maybe I don't have to go from apron donned, clinging tightly to every available glue on the planet with clinched fists - to broom in one hand and dust bin in the other.  Maybe, through the whole falling of Humpty Dumpty off the wall - my itchy and well-intended fingers should always be wrapped tightly around those of my Lord and Savior. It's not the falling of Humpty Dumpty that's most important in my life. It's Jesus. Always Jesus. Focus on God's love. This wonderful, amazing, sturdy and strong NEVER ENDING love of our Lord. It really really IS that simple.

Notice, I didn't claim it really really IS that EASY.  Because it's not going to be at all.  Especially when I've put 41 years into being the fix-it or give up person that I usually am - pouring so many years of time and practice into a certain behavior will, no doubt, be a difficult thing to overcome. But it IS a simple thing. A strong and sturdy truth to which I can cling with all of my heart.

I sit there, in that beautiful moment, sipping tea with my amazing Mom - when really we should both be counting our much needed Z's in dream land - and I am warmed. Not just by the tea and it's magical herbal properties. I am warmed by this truth that my Mother has so gently, lovingly, and gracefully given to me. I am warmed by the incredible example my Mom has been to me my entire life. I am warmed by her obedience and service to our Savior. And I begin practice straight away - bringing into sweet focus, the love of our Lord.

Pop And Sparkle

John 8:36 -- "So if the Son sets you free, you are truly free."

The night came almost as if our Creator reached out from Heaven and flipped the switch.  Equally as fast, came the pops, the sparkles, the booms - lighting up the pond with wonderful colors and a smokey fog of spent gun-powder.

We stepped onto the back porch and watched the show. United in celebration, our neighborhood lit up the night, dancing in their freedom. A rare night when millions of individual American citizens become one and revel in something that most of us don't give a second thought about through the rest of the year. We are FREE.

I CAN walk next door and pray with my neighbor as she brims over with tears because her sister is in the hospital.  I CAN dress fancy and attend the church of my choice on Sunday mornings. I CAN carry my Bible in open public and sing hymns as I shop for groceries. I CAN join hands with my family and offer a prayer of gratitude in the middle of a crowded restaurant.

It's a beautiful thing. This freedom. Not everyone has it.

In John 8:36, we are reminded that we are very truly free in the deepest sense of the word. We are no longer slaves to the death that comes because we are sinners from birth.  We are no longer slaves to gloom and shame. There is no shadow clinging to us - stubbornly reminding us that we were once in the dark. We are bought with light. Immersed in the glow of precious and amazing bright for which Jesus gave his last drops of blood.

As we stand against the screen on the back porch, faces lit up with the glow of bottle rockets bursting brilliant into the night sky - I swell with pride.  We are free.  And sense the Son set us free -- we are truly, truly free.  No thing can come between the love of our Father and us. What a wonderful reason to celebrate!