Shake It Baby [part 2]

Acts 22:15 -- "For you will be a witness for Him to all men of what you have seen and heard."

In deep concentration I reached out to pluck the small berry-like fruit from the tree that grew next to our neighbor's house in Sesame, Africa. Try as I might, I cannot remember the name of the thing but I DO remember it was wonderfully sweet and sometimes, a little tangy. Such powerful flavor from a tiny little fruit!

image: ctlewis.wordpress.com

Hearing a loud noise I stopped to peek up into the bright blue sky, squinting in an effort to shield my eyes from the blazing sun. I thought I'd see a small plane like the one that carried us into civilization to get groceries. To my astonishment, however, a large solitary dark cloud roared overhead flowing smoothly like a blob of oil on the water's surface. I'd never seen anything like it before - and I can tell you - it was the loudest cloud I've ever heard.

It was then that fellow missionary, Janet Steiger, came out from the house and urgently told me to come inside. I can still feel my shoulders hunching over in disappointment as I stood there, not wanting to miss a single moment of the action - looking back at the buzzing oil slick in the sky as she guided me into the house. She explained it wasn't a cloud at all, but a swarm of bees. It was best to stay indoors until they'd passed.

Having experienced the African Honey Bee first-hand in an earlier adventure - I did not argue with Janet but did exactly as she'd asked and tried to do my watching from behind the safety of the windows. I could no longer see them, but I will never forget what Janet told me about the bees:

When a "brood" of bees outgrows their hive, scouts are sent out in all directions on a mission to find the best place for relocation.When each scout returns, they share information about the new potential sight. They do this the same way they tell each other where to find food - by doing a "waggle dance". It might look like the bee is having some kind of weird seizure, but in fact, as she shakes her little buzzing tush - she is drawing out a map and precise instructions. The brood then considers the information from each scout and puts it all to a vote. When a decision is reached they all leave the hive at the same time in a "bee line" to the new location. Then they build a brand new hive.

At first, I thought Janet was making this all up for my entertainment - but I have since learned she was in fact, telling me the truth. Since that afternoon in the wilds of Africa I have seen this waggle dance for myself. It's quite fascinating in it's simplistic beauty - and let's face it, kind of funny, too. How can a shaking, buzzing backside lead to sophistic communication? ...God's creation is downright amazing!

image: beesppotter.mste.illinois.edu

The bees never get the dance wrong. NEVER! Each little tail shake is perfectly timed and choreographed. I often wonder if they use the time in-flight back home to practice the moves in their tiny little bee brains - because once they get back home - it's strait to the dancing, without so much as a coffee break. In their amazing little waggles they bear witness to the hive using every effort to preserve lives. It's just so fascinating!

It's really no wonder that I think of Acts 22:15 when I see the waggle dance. Each of us bears witness for the Ultimate Life Saver - Jesus Christ. Our most important job is to get the dance right. It really IS a matter of life and death - on a HUGE scale! We aren't just talking about a relocation or life improvement. We are talking about eternity. We are talking about a soul - living, thriving, rejoicing in a reunion with our Creator. Our waggle dance has to be exactly on target.

Am I on target? What am I really saying? Can people see Jesus in me when things "shake out"?

Shake It Baby [part 1]

Galatians 2:20 -- "I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me..."

image: pollenator.com

The amazing and unique smell of damp earth mingled with the strong green fragrance of the new tomato plants I'd purchased at my local Publix. There is no smell like that which is carried in the botanical oils of the nightshade family, and in my humble opinion - fresh tomato leaves take the cake. In that plant there is also a one-of-a-kind beauty in the bright and happy little flowers that magically transform from blossom into tomato fruit. A wonderfully graceful courtship has to occur to each and every flower in order for tomatoes to grow. It takes my breath away as I inhale. It's simple, pure, and blissfully healthy for the soul.

From the screened in porch I am happy to sit for hours and watch the micro-life spring into action around the green that is the forest and the lush Saint Augustine grass in our back yard. It makes me smile when I hear the familiar buzzing. I've often thought of the sound as musical - but only recently I learned that the busy little bee IS actually playing music as she shakes the dickens out of the little would-be tomatoes. Her song is sung in one note - A.

image: phyteclub.org

Because that is what the tomato plant likes to "hear".

On this solitary frequency the little winged beauty shakes pollen from the small yellow flowers onto her abdomen - and as she leans into the blossom of the next sweet bud with which she flirts, she will share the tiny little particles of life-giving pollen she's collected. It is only in the transference that a flower can become a tomato. In that beautiful and humble musical note - life blooms.

It makes me pause and wonder if I'm on the right frequency. Does my song resonate on the one note that others need to hear in order to see Jesus? Or am I off key? I am reminded that my actions are no longer my own, really. They - with the rest of me - belong to Christ. Do I truly sing HIS song? Or am I throwing in some trills and frills that are not necessary? Even confusing?

image: sisu.typepad.com

Galatians phrases it so perfectly - self has been crucified with Christ and my life is no loner my own. Jesus is the only life in me. When I sing the right notes - HIS notes - life can be shared with others. And there, in the transference - seeds can be shared. Life blooms!

Partly Pretty

I Corinthians 13:20 -- "Now we see but a poor reflection, as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."

It could be said that our society - life as we know it - has changed in some pretty big ways since the invention and development of television. As I have heard it so often, there are a lot of negative side effects due to this man-made form of addictive entertainment. Just think about all the adult cartoons, the trends in less than attractive slang, and the fashion gimmicks with which we are bombarded fairly regularly.

There are, however - moments in visual broadcasting that have absolutely taken our breath away. One minute, we are in our living room with our family and the next we are watching Neil Armstrong take humanity's first steps on the moon! I can see God at work in those moments. Look at all the works of His hands that we can see in those few steps taken on the soft, powdery dust sprinkled across our nearest celestial neighbor! It's truly amazing! Prior to that moment in television history no human knew what our moon really looked like. And better still - we'd never seen a photograph of our great blue marble spinning perfectly as it hangs in just the right spot of vast space!

In our particular neck of global space and time we have been provided with more opportunity to see the beauty and wonder of God's creation than any other human moment in history! I'm thankful for that.

image: company7.com

This past week, two - count 'em - TWO unique expressions of God's love for us flittered into this head of mine through the magic of digital television. I have been deeply inspired by our boob tube!. . .

Walking through the great number of parks in our little corner of Florida I have photographed some absolutely gorgeous plant life in vibrant hues with blooms so full they seem to burst into life all at once. I mean, I think they are just down right beautiful! Breathtaking! Colorful! But watching a PBS program the other day I learned that there is even more splendor in those blossoms than that upon which my eyes are capable of focus. Flowers often have this other-worldly spectrum of color that only certain insects and pollinators can see! We can't see the longer, lower frequency light in infrared spectroscopy. But flowers emit on this wave length all the time. Bees can see it! So even as we stand in awe of the perfect rose petal or peaceful water lily - there is even more beauty there than we could possibly imagine! Through the lenses of a pollinator's eyes we would be able to see that the colors pop out and gracefully sing the siren song of color and nectar. Perspective is EVERYTHING!

Earth through the rings of Saturn. Image: CICLOPS.org

There we are!! Image: CICLOPS.org

When a beloved friend stopped by my house the other day to give me an impromptu gift she'd found at a thrift store - we sat together in my bedroom catching up on the goings on of life. In the background on the television, Mike Rowe was giving us some rather interesting facts about the moons in our solar system - when this amazing photo of Saturn spread across the screen in wonderful high definition color! It was a back-lit image of the rings around the planet as a tiny portion of the sun peeked out from just underneath. We both kind of stopped talking and feasted on the visual splendor. We thought it was amazing just as we saw it - but then the editor highlighted a tiny white dot just to the left - seemingly imbedded in the outer rings of the planet. It wasn't one of Saturn's moons - it was Earth as seen by the Cassini spacecraft in 2004. I think my mouth just kind of hung open for a moment. I can't even begin to describe what was going on in my head - how awesome is our God! How so very amazing His love for us! Oh the vast wonder of His works!

Never have the words of Paul become so clear and focused in my life.  It's so true! Now we see but a fraction of who we are, where we are, and by Whom we were created! We are only seeing a tiny bit of the big picture! The more we explore, the bigger the whole picture seems to become - and all the more splendid is my tiny little place within it!

I am inspired to remember the image of the tiny white dot of Earth beyond the giant Saturn whenever things in my life seem to get too big and unmanageable. Especially because I know that on that tiny white dot - I am fully known by God! He even knows how many hairs keep turning gray on the top of my head! ...and to me - this planet of our seems pretty big! It's really not in the grand scheme of things - not when compared to Saturn, the solar system, ... or the universe! And if God knows every single little detail about one person on that tiny little dot - I'm pretty sure the thing in my life that I assumed was such a HUGE deal - IS, in fact - manageable! After all - my entire life is in God's hands!

God is so totally AWESOME!!

Monkey Wrench Trials

Romans 8:18 -- "I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us."

image: www.smallincave.com

Thin shadows played on the damp grass studded with dew drops and the moon peeked out from beyond the tree tops. It was beautiful - the deep night and the quiet. On the cold concrete patio, just beyond my chipped toe-nail polish grew a carpet of green clinging to the rough, uneven floor. I should really take the old nail polish off. I should really bleach the opaque moss growing just beyond the over-hang on the patio in a thick strait line. They both need maintenance and I've let them go too long.

The rest of the world was asleep - dreaming away the stress of the day. Letting their inner children play in gurgling creeks or scoring famous touch-downs through the fog laden joy of sleep. But I cannot close my eyes. I've tried. And as that wonderfully Floridian lightly salted air caught a stray strand of hair sticking out from the top of my head, my cheeks cooled where the tears trickled down. My head pounded and my rib cage ached from the days of sobbing. I am caught - mid-battle with God.

Things were not going according to plan. To quote Madeleine L'Engle:  I feel that "someone has altered the script. My lines have been changed. The other actors are shifting roles. They don't come on when they are expected to and they don't say the lines I've written..."

My world feels upside down. I think someone threw a stick into the moving spokes of my bicycle. Or - maybe it was a monkey wrench.

The bird feeders cast shadows on my knees and I can hear deer in the woods crunch the dry leaves down with otherwise quiet hooves. I have cast this pain on my Lord, Jesus. Or - I thought I had. The sobs leave me shaking again and I struggle to keep them from slipping through clenched teeth. I am so angry with God right now.

I can picture the problem in a metaphor: a perfect garden blooms to life in my head. The garden where I spent hours and hours tending, nurturing, shielding the tender infant shoots from foul whether so they could grow up big and strong. It was a gift. I'd devoted much of myself into the growing of it and was happy to present it - all bright and colorful - as an expression of love.  I taught the person for whom this gift was created how I'd grown it. What soils I used, how often I'd watered it, where the strengths and pretty blossoms were hidden as well as how to defend its weaknesses. But the gifted gardener wasn't listening to me anymore. Weeds were setting in. And where there was once so much beauty, so much vibrancy, petals had fallen into the dirt, turning brown and ugly. The gifted gardener is at a cross-roads. She has the opportunity to catch the weeds before the garden can be overcome. But it seems that her choices - her actions - are a fertilizer named trouble, and the weeds are popping up too fast to truly control.

I sigh. Somewhere in the neighborhood a dog starts barking and the deer are startled into a panic. I know they can't see me, but I freeze in the darkness anyway. And I wonder once again why the Lord has allowed the garden gift to go so sour. Why doesn't the gardener listen to me? Why can't she hear me speak the truth of God's Word? Wouldn't it be better to pull the weeds and choke them out before there is no taking the garden back from the brink?

I can't stop the sobbing and the gentle breeze has stopped. I peek up at the moon and sit still.

I consider the words of Paul. My pain is not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed through the grace of Jesus Christ. The truth is - it's just not my garden any more. I've done the things that I know God would have me do. I've planted the seeds and helped them grow. There is no more for me. The flowers are no longer mine. What I can do - is let go. I will don my full armor of Christ and pray with everything I have in me. I will encourage. I will help where I am lead. But the rest of it is in the hands of the gifted gardener. Has she green thumbs or no - it is hers to grow, now. I DO know, she is in the arms of Jesus.

God is always in control. And He is always good.

image: Kelly Babb Dalton

As the faintest glimmer of light starts to peek out from the horizon and the stars start to twinkle out one by one, I am reminded that my own flower bed is not always pristine. I occasionally let things get away from me. Like the chipped polish on my toes, there are times when the weeding gets forgotten once too often and repair is needed. And I know that with Jesus there is grace that surpasses all understanding.

No matter what is grown in the flower bed of the gifted gardener - I know that the bedrock of Jesus Christ grows beneath and there is nothing on this earth that can separate any of us from God's amazing love.

Territorial

Exodus 34:14 -- "...for you shall not worship any other god, the Lord, whose name is Jealous, is a Jealous God."

image: Graeme Guy/topflighnaturephotography.blogspot.com

Holding my breath I struggled to keep a giggle from escaping my lips. Right in front of me, darting about at my Mom's hummingbird feeders was a band of grumpy, tiny titans defending their territory. You've never seen a "dog fight" until you've seen the masterful aerial acrobatics of dueling hummingbirds. It's truly astonishing. Who knew they could be so fierce? And that crazy little "ferocious" buzz/chirp they make! Just try to stay in a foul mood after witnessing an all-out hummingbird war!

They kind of have to be little tigers. Each bite-sized buzzing miracle has to have enough fuel to maintain an ultra-high metabolism AND stock up on enough sugars to help them make lengthy migratory journeys. Some of them have to accomplish this while caring for offspring! It's amazing, really. So it's no wonder that when they discover a stable food source they will guard it with their very lives. Every action they take declares MINE, MINE, MINE! And just wait until they go courting! The lines in the proverbial sand become ultra personal and hyper-competitive! The object of their affection has to feel that she and her teeny-tiny tots will have a proper and successful provider. My goodness, you've never seen such fierce jealousy!

Or - maybe, we have.

Over and over again in the Bible, God expresses His jealousy when it comes to you and me. In Exodus 34:14 He even declares that His very Name IS Jealous. Now that's saying something! And I can't help but tingle a little bit with pride at the thought that God loves me so much He wants us to be exclusive. It's really kind of romantic, if you think about it.

So . . . when do we return this unbridled and endless love?

Why do we NOT express devotion by fiercely fighting for God's territory? What will it take for us to start buzz/chirping over ground we've lost to complacency in the name of tolerance? Why do we continue to allow our boundary lines to be re-drawn, giving up countless acreage as we lose precious spiritual resources?

image: Graeme Guy/topflightnaturephotography.blogspot.com

It's now considered offensive to take my Bible to school. Language in public forums has become increasingly ugly and people no longer experience shock that OMG is the standard for expressing strong emotion. What happened to NOT taking the Lord's name in vain? And don't even get me started on what is now considered acceptable entertainment programming. As cultural and social lines continue to blur with world-wide instant media - so do the lines that used to clearly define right from wrong. It's sad. Really, really sad.

If even the tiniest little hummingbird knows the importance of standing firm to defend his territory - how much more steadfast should we of the larger brain stand in the war for the honor of God? Shouldn't it make us angry that we're losing ground? Shouldn't we take offense that praying and honoring God in our "free" country is offensive to others? I know, there are some that argue that the hummingbird HAS to be fierce, it's a matter of life and death. But so is living to honor our Creator. Each and every time we lose ground as Christian soldiers, we reduce the number of opportunities to shine a bright light into the dark shadows of humanity.

Maybe - just maybe - it's time we experienced some good, 'ole fashioned, territorial jealousy.

In Christ Alone

My precious friend Sarah inspired this idea - today I just wanted to praise the Lord with a grateful heart:

Better Left Unsaid

Proverbs 21:23 -- "He who guards his mouth and his tongue, guards his soul from troubles."

image: proverbs4wisdom.wordpress.com

Though the wonderful friendly aroma of Earl Gray tea rose with the steam from my much-loved coffee mug and my favorite relaxing program lit the room with brilliant color, I couldn't enjoy the moment. Somewhere in my peripheral vision the beautiful butterflies and happy hummingbirds from Disney's Wings Of Life filtered into the back of my brain, but the only thing that really held my attention was the pain. The sour, jagged hurt that comes from the loss of a friend.

I think the death of a friendship is easier to bear when the friend actually dies. Knowing that they live and breathe but intentionally severed all ties using sharp, rough-edged words in a voice so loud that the neighbors could probably hear her on the other end of your phone - is so very much more difficult through which to muddle. Why will she not listen to me? Why will she not even attempt to accept kind words and my effort to mend broken fences and re-build burned bridges? I don't understand.

It all started because my oldest son felt that the life of a co-worker was in danger. She'd been telling him via text messages all week that she was not in control of herself and that her depression was getting the best of her. When she dove head-long in to a destructive relationship yelling - not Geronimo, but: I don't care what happens to me! - Brian stuck his neck out for his friend and called her mother. Mother was not happy. Not even a little bit.

Instead of a grateful heart, what Brian faced was anger. Venom in it's worst form - an angry text in all caps - that informed him his friend was no longer his business and he was to stop telling Mother how to be a parent. He was asked to stop all contact with his friend and told that they wished to be left alone. There were some other unpleasantries in the text but the gist of the matter was after Brian expressed deep concern for the welfare of his friend, he was insulted, cussed at, and then cut off.

I should have kept my mouth shut. But it was all I could do to stand there and watch my son's heart end up in a big mushy pile on the floor. I was devastated. Not only on a deeply hurt and personal level, but on a spiritual level. I tell people I'm a Christian.What if my behavior with my ex-friend and her daughter pushed them away from Christ instead of leading them to him? Perhaps they just misunderstood the situation? So, out of fear, confusion, and yes - more than a little anger, I responded to Mother and attempted to explain that Brian was not reaching out to be judgmental of his friend's behavior, that his "tattling" was done only out of great and sincere concern for her well-being.

.....which of course, only fanned the flames. Mother then contacted daughter to explain that I've issued personal threats and that there should be no further contact between our families. 

Wow. Threats? In all the years I've known this woman, encouraged her, and tried to offer support to her she lies about me?

Wow, again - totally devastated.

I wanted to reach for my phone yet again and talk to them. I wanted to make sure they knew we had no malicious intent. But my husband put his foot down and said to terminate all communication.

Why? Can't I at least attempt to fix this?

It is then that I was reminded of Proverbs 21:23. Guard my mouth and my tongue. Already my attempt to smooth things over ended up making the situation worse. Doing more of the same would not make things any better. Didn't I have proof of that in my clenched and trembling hands?

So, I sat there in the semi-dark with colorful shadows dancing on the walls and tears pouring down my face. Sometimes, I guess - it really IS better to leave things unsaid. Maybe if I had, I wouldn't be feeling so miserable. Now, I KNOW that God can take this ugly mess and grant each of us healing, hope, and resolution. But, maybe He wouldn't need to do that if I'd put a little more guard around my mouth and my tongue.

The Peace Compass

John 14:23 -- "Jesus replied, 'If anyone loves me, he will obey my teaching. My Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him'."

With eyes closed and feet propped up in my favorite chair a smile comes to my face as the uplifting lyrics from Owl City's If My Heart Was A House play through my headphones. I love Owl City. Admittedly, some of their songs don't make a lick of sense, but this one resonates for some reason and I hit the repeat button before the song comes to an end.

Not really considered a Christian musician, there are often moments when I hear the love of God in the lilting, soothing voice of Adam Young. Whether it was meant to or not - this song manages to make me think of my Father and Savior.  I picture a heart shaped compass with a bright red needle pointing toward the cross where Jesus layed his life down for my sins. Now, I know that the words don't actually describe this - but since my heart IS indeed a house for my Lord - the image comes to mind clearly.

As Adam sings; "circle me and the needle moves gracefully, if my heart was a compass, you'd be North" and "wherever you go, if my heart was a house you'd be home" - it's pretty easy to understand why. My truest and purest love is my Lord, Jesus Christ. In fact, as for me and my house, we serve the Lord with our heart-houses.

You've heard me blog about the passion my son has for hearts in need. Quite often broken and hurting hearts seek him out in search of help. In search of PEACE. The one thing each of these hurting hearts has in common when they leave our house is a phrase that my son relates to me when we get a moment alone. He says to me; "mom, so-in-so said that this is the best home he/she has ever stayed in".

My son then goes on to tell me that so-in-so loved the harmony, the joy, the PEACE in our home. It warms my heart to hear him say this because it means we are letting THE light shine. I share this with you NOT to toot my own horn ... but to toot GOD's. It's not OUR harmony, joy, or peace that so-in-so sees while here. In fact, this Dalton Gang has seen it's share of turmoil, heartache, and struggle. The thing is, we have Jesus. Actually, we have NOTHING without him. That explains why chaotic, hurting hearts find their compass bearing in this direction. Because JESUS is True North.

image: nick94.deviantart.com

A friend of mine, Sherrie Holland, shared with me on Face Book an inspirational quote that she has on her wall - "Peace is not the absence of conflict, but the presence of the Almighty God." How very true that is! And as her words painted a vivid picture of our current world where the colors are dark with pain, red with war, green with envy, and white hot with rage - she pointed out that within that color cacophony the fine shading that truly defines us is our link to Jesus Christ. There is hope because where we love God, He makes a home with us. Our heart-houses are filled with the light and love that only our Savior can provide and it's totally up to us to throw open the window shades and let that light shine out into the dark.

I'm thankful that no matter in which country I reside or through what chaotic happenstance my life takes me, my heart is a house wherein lives true Light and real Hope. The needle that is we - that is me - points ever toward the One True North that is Jesus Christ and it is there where we find that ever elusive peace. All we have to do is follow the needle.

Neighbor Be Ware

Proverbs 12:26 -- "A righteous man is careful when dealing with his neighbor, but the ways of wicked men lead them astray."

image: gettyimages.com

Once upon a Christmas weary came a stranger with his hands stretched out ... deep into our purses we reached ... and quickly learned what "con" is about. [give me a little break on that one, I've not written poetry in a long time.]

In the crazy that was the check-out lane at our local Wal-Mart, my three guys and I made some last minute purchases for our extended family Christmas party. We were tired and sooooo not in the Christmas spirit. At the end of our line was a dirty looking middle-aged man with a very weary looking pre-teen sprawled out on one of those metal mesh benches. It pulled at my heart-strings. The adult looked forlorn and very stressed out. And in my observation I made the huge mistake of making direct eye contact. Even with my husband standing right next to me, the guy knew he'd found his mark.

With steady, sad eyes the dirty man told us this horrible story about how his wife had passed on and he had been forced to move down here to find work from a far-away state. He was almost "home" but had run out of gas and of course, the money with which to purchase it. He just had to be a little further south by the next morning or he would lose his job opportunity and had put all of his hopes for food on the table into this new employer.

The weight of my frivolous Christmas purchases suddenly put a huge strain on my arms and I wanted with all of my heart to help this guy out. Against my better judgement, I gave my hubby-pooh a long sad look and he reached into his wallet and gave the stranger some cash. Steven, of course, was not very happy with me for putting him on the spot - and he was rightfully agitated by the time we reached our car and had our stuff piled in to the trunk.

Steven reminded me that we support our church in their efforts to provide for those in deep need and that there are proper and safer channels through which to help others. He was right, of course - and his reminder REALLY hit home when I saw the dirty dude hop into his brand new SUV with Florida tags, pre-teen in tow - quickly followed by the loud screech of brand-new tires as he peeled out of the parking lot at what had to be mach 1.

I know - I've blogged about being conned before ... and it's because I have a tendency to fall for these kinds of things very easily. When I came across this verse today, however - it was never more real to me - because my son has a very huge, kind, and giving heart when it comes to his peers. Especially if they find themselves in a rough home life.

Currently we have "adopted" one of my son's friends because he was desperately in need of a place to regroup and get back on his feet. [Prior to our home this sweet young man was living in his car.] He's been with us for more than six months now and I'm proud to announce that our new "son" is back into a good job, and soon to be back out on his own.  We are glad we could help, but I can't deny it's been a strain both financially and emotionally. It's been most difficult for my husband. And - this week, my son was yet again knocking on my bedroom door to ask me to help a friend of his who's been forced to leave home.

Without even thinking about it too hard I agreed.

The problem? Well, this friend of my son's is a sixteen year old female. That means, she is technically a minor. There are ALL KINDS of laws about minors leaving home.

I live in a house with mostly adult males.

Guess who's step-dad is a cop?

You see where I'm going with this? I made a HUGE mistake that could have put my son and his adopted "brother" - not to mention my husband - in jail. Thank our wonderful God that Sweet Sixteen was only here for one night and that no police showed up at my door with hand-cuffs at the ready.

Sigh. I often leap before I look. And unfortunately, I've instilled this behavior in my children. So, as I said, when I came across this verse today - I could feel the words wash over me in rebuke. I did not handle this situation correctly. At all.

I should have talked with Steven first. And I should have looked into all the facts.

There is no question that Sweet Sixteen is in trouble and in great need. [To be honest, I've kind of fallen in love with her and wish I could adopter her]. I will continue to do what I can - legally - to help her. My son is going to start taking her to church with us, and I have given her my cel phone number so that she may call - no matter when - if she should need to do so. But you see - I did not exercise caution. I not only undermined my husband's authority in this household by making a huge decision without him - but I potentially endangered our whole family. That is NOT a great way to serve the Lord.

Get involved. That is what we are supposed to do! But keep Solomon's words in mind and be careful when dealing with your neighbor [or fellow man]. Pray. Research. Pray some more - and then help others through the proper, legal channels. Look BEFORE leaping and live to leap another day.

Not So Sudden Death

Proverbs 6:10-11 -- "A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest - and poverty will come on you like a bandit and scarcity like an armed man."

image: recoveringevangelical.com

Looking around the room I took in a deep sigh and could feel the weight of the world cause my shoulders to hunch in exhaustion. I have no idea how the nice clean kitchen of yesterday looks as if it erupted dirty dishes from some weird volcano that sprouted mountains and foothills on every single flat surface. 

Actually. . . that's not true - I know exactly how it happened. I took a lazy day. Just one. A day when I decided to do absolutely nothing. I declared it a "mom's day off" and drank slow cups of Earl Gray, read some Clive Cussler, diddled with a cross-stitch project, and watched a BBC production narrated by Sir David Attenborough.

Well, I'll certainly pay for that little extravagance today. It feels as if the keeping of hearth and home has suddenly become monumentos and every single normal chore secretly conspired to generate chores of its own.

Ugh!

The truth of the matter is - the kitchen did not become the dish equivalent of Mount Everest over night. No single person uses twelve plates at the same time. If I'd been diligent and done a few things on Mom's Day Off, I wouldn't be looking at a herculean chore day today. At the very least, I could've ensured the clean dishes in the dishwasher had been put away so the growing number of humans that eat in this house could place their dirty dishes strait into the machine.

I'm thinking that maybe Solomon knew about this build up of things to do - and I look at Proverbs 6:10-11 with a fresh set of convictions. There are several verses prior to these two wherein Solomon refers to the ant. I don't know about you, but I've never seen an ant take a Mom's Day Off.

Now obviously I'm not saying a person should never rest. Even God took one day out of seven for some R & R after creating the universe. But I DO think we tend to talk ourselves into more breaks than we do actions - as a general rule. If we didn't, this great country of ours wouldn't have so many non-working people living off the hard-earned income of others. [please don't shoot the messenger on that last statement].

But far beyond the physical aspect of daily living I can see how this verse applies to us - as spiritual creatures. There is a deep need to be ever diligent when it comes to our walk with Jesus. Do we take time out every day to read God's Word? Do we pray and listen? Do we tell ourselves we are too tired to go to church this Sunday - maybe we'll pick it back up next Sunday? Each time we take a spiritual day off, it's easier for us to become complacent. If I can skip church this Sunday, maybe two weeks in a row won't be so bad? Maybe I'm too tired or too busy with the dish mountain to do my daily devo today -- perhaps, tomorrow I'll get a better handle on it?

Each and every time we "take a break" it becomes all the more easy for us to continue to do so. And the little snowflakes of self-indulgence become a giant snow ball that grows so big - it becomes nearly unmanageable. So the truth is - we didn't become spiritually starving and unproductive people over night. It took the accumulation of what may have seemed like small, unimportant steps. It's actually not sudden spiritual death at all - but a long, slow, painful decline in what should have been daily up-keep.

I think I understand where Solomon was going with these verses. And as I end this blog entry to tackle the dish volcano, I am reminded that each day I can don my spiritual armor and maintain a sturdy front in battle for Jesus - I guard against a not-so-sudden death of soul.

Nabal

Proverbs 17:24 -- "Wisdom is the focus of the perceptive, but a fool's eyes roam to the ends of the earth."

iamge: slowdownfast.com

It's one of those things that is more than habit, more than routine - every day, at least twice a day, my hubby calls to see how things are going and to remind me that he loves me. It's a wonderful thing that he started way back when we were first married, and it's a thing that I've come to need in my day. It means - all is well. All is as it should be.

The second time he calls it's usually to let me know he's on his way home and to ask if there is anything he needs to get from the store by way of dinner preparations. Sometimes I have the answer ready at the tip of my tongue. Yesterday however, the question left me dumb with silence as I seemed to freeze like a dear caught in head lights. I was aware that I craved something - but I had no idea what it was. Steven must have been in the same frame of mind because when he arrived home we started poking about the kitchen - looking. Just looking.

For what?

We had no idea. We were hungry to the point that our stomachs could be heard but we had no idea for what it was we craved. We needed to be satisfied but we could not find the thing that would do the satisfying. How was it that I couldn't just simply focus? Find the magic dinner makings and set about the task of getting it on the table?

In the Old Testament the Hebrew word used to describe a fool is nabal.  [pronounced: naw-bawl] It's used when, in the book of Psalm, David says; "a fool says in his heart, God does not exist." It's also used to describe a person who claims there is no God but then attempts to find fulfillment and meaning for the rest of his life. He diligently looks for something, but does not know for what he's really looking. He seeks satisfaction and then roams the earth in an attempt to fill a need that can only be filled by God.

I can see how that could be construed as foolish. And I can see the truth in David's words. We as a species seem to spend an awful lot of time searching for things that will make us "happy". The right school. The right kind of job. The right kind of house. The right kind of car, clothing, etc. If only I could just find ..... that one thing I don't have in my inventory.

And then, it's the next thing. And then the next. Well, you get the idea.

But we can stop the incessant search, can't we? It isn't the next thing that will create in us a sense of fulfillment, purpose, or grant us that elusive happiness. Remember what Paul said in Philippians? The secret to joy is to be content. I mean, we HAVE Jesus. We HAVE victory over ... well, everything! There is no greater thing out there in the world.

We can stop looking.

We can stop being so foolish.

Little Green Mile Markers

Image: NCDOT.gov

Proverbs 22:28 -- "Don't move an ancient property line that your fathers set up."

Watching the trees wiz by in a big green blur as we crossed the Florida State line began to make me a little bit dizzy. A little too late to stave off nausea, I switched my focus and started to count the little green mile markers posted just off the interstate shoulders. It occurred to me that it took someone hours of manual labor to make sure each stretch of interstate is dutifully and accurately marked. I then began to wonder how it was determined to place each marker. To whom goes the decision of which colors to use on them and how often they should be placed? When was this whole marker idea born and when was it first put into practice?

Well, marking property is as old as owning property itself. One thinks of the Great Wall of China and the Berlin Wall. Both clearly marked borders and both were used to separate one group of people from another. But the ancient tradition of marking what belongs to whom goes back much further. In fact, in the Middle East, boundary markers have been used for eons to mark where one tribal group begins and another one ends. Large stones are also used to show land owners their own property lines in Scotland, Australia, France, and parts of Africa.

Of course, where there are boundary lines, there will be the inevitable border dispute. One look no further than our own backyards for some of these property battles, but the oldest one to date - and perhaps one of the most violent - is the one going on between God's people in Israel and the countries that surround it. Centuries of war, bitterness, jealousy, and hate can be attributed to the border disputes between the land of our Savior and those that covet it. It's no wonder, then - that in his wisdom, Solomon reminds us not to muck about with border markers. Tampering with property lines can lead to some pretty cumbersome complications.

Image: Thomas Bressen - French/Swiss Border marker

Ya know - we were given some pretty clear boundary markers when Moses came off Mt. Sinai with the ten commandments. To clearly define behavior of which our Father can be proud, He made a list of Do's and Don'ts. And then there's the new testament - an entire book dedicated to training up God's children. The lines are very clearly drawn, but how often do we find ourselves ready to poke at or even move those markers?

Just like the moss laden border stones between France and Switzerland, the markers that God intended to keep us well defined and obedient children are not to be moved. By anyone. And while they may seem old and weathered, they still very clearly "lay down the law". They apply today every bit as much as they did when first they were placed. And just because the times have changed doesn't mean that the stones move with them. If anything, the solid and sturdy border stones of our ancestral past become more clear and more helpful as the years pile into centuries.

When we attempt to move the very clear and well defined boundaries set up by our fathers through the God-breathed law and living Word of our Savior - simply because we don't like where upon they lay - we not only lose our footing, but we mark out new trails that others will try to follow. We cause confusion and turmoil.

No, I agree whole-heartedly with wise 'ole Solomon. It's best that we not muck around with property lines and border stones. They have been placed where they are for a reason.