on friendship (a post of quotes)

I love quotes… and I like to collect them on various topics. Today I share a blog-post-full of wise words on friends and friendships… enjoy… and may it inspire you to be the friend you desire to have…. I know these words have inspired me.

Source: google images

The dearest friend on earth is a mere shadow compared to Jesus Christ.  ~ Oswald Chambers

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A good friend is cheaper than therapy.  ~Author Unknown

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Love is like the wild-rose briar;
Friendship is like the holly-tree.
The holly is dark when the rose briar blooms,
But which will bloom most constantly?
~Emily Brontë

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When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand.  The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.  ~Henri Nouwen

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Friendship is a sheltering tree.  ~Samuel Taylor Coleridge

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A friend accepts us as we are yet helps us to be what we should.  ~Author Unknown

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A friend loveth at all times. ~Proverbs 17:17

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Without friends the world is but a wilderness. There is no man that imparteth his joys to his friends, but he joyeth the more; and no man that imparteth his grieves to his friend, but he grieveth the less. ~Francis Bacon

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The worst solitude is to have no real friendships. ~ Francis Bacon

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Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow-ripening fruit. ~Aristotle

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Friendship is the source of the greatest pleasures, and without friends even the most agreeable pursuits become tedious. ~ St. Thomas Aquinas

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Stay is a charming word in a friend’s vocabulary. ~ Louisa May Alcott

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Friendship improves happiness, and abates misery, by doubling our joys, and dividing our grief. ~Joseph Addison

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So long as we are loved by others I should say that we are almost indispensable; and no man is useless while he has a friend. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson

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I value the friend who for me finds time on his calendar, but I cherish the friend who for me does not consult his calendar. ~ Robert Brault

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Only solitary men know the full joys of friendship. Others have their family –but to a solitary and an exile his friends are everything. ~ Willa Cather

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You can make more friends in two months by becoming interested in other people than you can in two years by trying to get other people interested in you. ~ Dale Carnegie 

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A friend is one to whom one may pour out all the contents of one’s heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that the gentlest of hands will take and sift it, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away. ~ Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

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Friends are proved by adversity. ~ Cicero

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A friend is one who knows us, but loves us anyway. ~ Fr. Jerome Cummings

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Do not save your loving speeches for your friends till they are dead. Do not write them on their tombstones, speak them rather now instead. ~ Anna Cummins

When There’s Violence Against Women

image source

All of these articles highlight a different aspect of the tragedy of violence against women in our world.

NYT: Afghanistan parent debt: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/01/world/asia/afghan-debts-painful-payment-a-daughter-6.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1&smid=fb-nytimes&

China, 336 million abortions in 40 years.  http://www.religiontoday.com/news/china-336-million-abortions-in-barely-four-decades.html

India: abortions of girls on the rise.. http://www.english-online.at/news-articles/people/abortion-of-girls-on-the-rise-in-india.htm

Pregnant women in India, abuse… http://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2013/02/the-everyday-violence-against-pregnant-women-in-india/273045/

India’s rape crisis… http://www.takepart.com/article/2013/03/04/op-ed-indias-rape-crisis-needs-you-channel-your-outrage

Violence in India, via Care… http://www.care-international.org/Media-Releases/tragic-rape-in-india-violence-against-women-must-stop.html

How to reduce violence in India… http://www.csmonitor.com/Commentary/Opinion/2013/0117/India-gang-rape-How-to-reduce-violence-against-women

I have to wonder if the facts they provide are lower than reality.  Women don’t openly share these things. Crimes like these tend to be under-reported.

I’m fascinated by the question of “how can we change this?”

Can things change simply by enough outrage by citizens?

Can the situation change by simply passing a new law? A law is useless unless it’s enforced.

Anyone can make lofty statements, saying this should stop. But how will it end?

In a country like India specifically, where women are marginalized, degraded and not considered worthy enough, how will this change?

A whole paradigm shift in thinking, in the mindset of the people, needs to occur.

At the root of the problem? Not seeing women as persons created in the image of the eternal, creator God. If you see women as anything else, you are not viewing them as God does.

Women in India are sexual objects. Pawns. Servants. Cooks. Laborers. Launderers. The means to a dowry, the means to money. The means to an heir. The means to having a son.

Are women seen as persons with souls, who have minds, thoughts, dreams, and hopes? Persons to be treated with respect and dignity?

Violence perpetuates violence. Children who grow up in the home with it, experience it as adults or become the perpetrators themselves.

Once in the cycle of poverty, abuse, or trafficking, it’s hard to escape. The cycle continues.

What can bring healing? change?

We can offer platitudes. They sound good, and we do need to hear them. We need to hope and we need to hear the voices of those speaking out. (but do they change anything?)

As far as laws? Go ahead and change them. We need to know that the law exists and hope that eventually someone will enforce it… maybe. Eventually. Unless there is a consequence,  however, laws themselves don’t prohibit a crime. Laws+consequence might equal some reduction in atrocity, but not necessarily.

Remember the Civil Rights movement in the U.S.? A law can change what is legal, but it takes longer to change the mindset of the people.

Education? we need it. The world needs to be aware. Tell us, over and over. Remind us, so we don’t forget it. We need the awareness of the issue. Go ahead and report it. But do it over and over. Don’t let us forget. The media shifts from one crisis to another… will we remember this next year? For next year, there will be an atrocity of another kind to hold our attention. Will we forget and move on to the next sensational story?

Go ahead and  institute a national, or international, day for the elimination of violence against women.

It sounds good. We can mostly all agree on that, who would disagree when it sounds so good?

But what is it actually accomplishing? changing?

I can declare tomorrow to be the Appreciate Tomato Day. We can spend the day talking about the tomato, and appreciating it, discussing the different kinds, how we can eat it, cook it, sample it, etc. But will that change anything for the tomato?

So in the case of trafficking and abuse of women, what do we need?

What we really need? Jesus. We know that we need him. So how can we be the hands and feet of Jesus? How can I? As a daughter of India, who by the grace of God, did not grow up in poverty there, I am trying to answer this question for myself. The problem is so vast. I’m asking God to show me how to add my voice to this story.

For a nation like India that claims to be spiritual, where is the change going to come from? from whence?

The situation in India (or anyplace) will change when we start to see women as beloved daughters of God, not as objects to be used, not as worthless, not as liabilities, not as less than human. It will change when we see Jesus.

How to see like this?  Without Jesus, how to see like this?

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Sharing with Laura at The Wellspring, Jen at Finding Heaven,  Jennifer for Tell His Story and Emily for Imperfect Prose

The World of Speech and Debate

We are finding ourselves more and more immersed in the world of speech and debate. My daughter had been asking to join debate since she was 12; I finally got her in classes when she was 13, and she turned 14 just before her first tournament. She is in her second year of speech and debate.

I saw this picture recently, which helps describe any endeavor that requires effort and hard work:

Reposted from: The Busy Homeschool Mom

The path forward is fraught with bumps, failures, disappointments, trials, mistakes and even complete 180 degree turns along the way– but the general trend is upward.

Upward means moving forward and up, not backwards and down.

It takes perseverance, fortitude, resolve, determination, patience, and hard work to move from one point to the next.

Ultimately each new skill mastered, each new word learned, each new speech, is a step forward.

When we view our lives and whatever we do as unto the Lord, that any success is for His glory, and to relinquish our disappointments in His hands, we open the door to grow and learn and move even more forward.

Each bump in the road is the potential to be a character-producing bump. 

Speech and Debate stretches us, parents and kids alike, in new ways. The students are learning to debate important topics, understand an opposing view, speak in front of a wide range of audiences, learn how to research and construct arguments, learn current events, just to name a few of the skills they are gaining.

As a parent, I am challenged on a new level of parenting and teaching, as my children acquire and practice these new skills. Parents also serve as coaches and volunteer judges, and that is also stretching.

It may sound daunting — but my suggestion is to go and watch a tournament, and that is one of the best ways to understand what this is all about. We participate in the NCFCA league– and tournaments are all around the country. (Go to www.ncfca.org for more information).

It is not easy. It does take time. It requires commitment and effort. It costs time and money to travel to tournaments.

But it is worth it. No doubt, speech and debate is one of the best activities we have done, one of the best homeschool choices we have made.

What Our Daughters {and we} Need to Know…

Dear Daughters of Eve:

You aren’t defined by the fashion magazines’ ideas of beauty.

You aren’t defined by the clothes you wear.

You aren’t defined by the color of your hair, eyes, or skin.

You aren’t defined by the number on the scale.

You aren’t defined by the numbers in your bank account.

You aren’t defined by any woman who judged you by your appearance.

You aren’t defined by the parent who called you lazy, stupid, or other names.

You aren’t defined by the man who saw you only as a body, not as a soul.

You aren’t defined by the grade school bully who belittled you.

You aren’t defined by the friend who turned her face against you.

You aren’t defined by negative words others say about you.

You aren’t defined by your children’s mistakes.  

You aren’t defined by your parent’s mistakes.

You aren’t defined by your mistakes.

You aren’t defined by any ugly words or deeds against you.

You aren’t defined by what your culture does.

You aren’t defined by your job.

You aren’t defined by how many medals, awards or trophies you own.

You aren’t defined by the number of letters after your name.

You aren’t defined by your marital status.

You aren’t defined by the lies the enemy throws against you.

“For God does not see as man sees. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”         1 Samuel 16:7

You ARE defined by God.

And He says:

You are beautiful. You are made in His image.

So God created mankind in his own image,
in the image of God he created them;
male and female he created them. –Genesis 1:27

You are worthy to be loved.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. –John 3:16

You are precious. You are cherished. 

The Lord your God in your midst,
The Mighty One, will save;
He will rejoice over you with gladness,
He will quiet you with His love,
He will rejoice over you with singing. –Zephaniah 3:17

You are chosen.

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. –Colossians. 3:12

You are forgiven.

As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us. –Psalm 103:12

He offers hope. 

And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. –Romans 5:5

He understands rejection. Jesus was rejected by men, too.

 He is despised and rejected by men,
A Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. –Isaiah 53:3

He can heal you. “Give your wounds to me– spiritual, physical and emotional wounds– give them to me. “

 O Lord my God, I cried out to You,
And You healed me. –Psalm 30:2

 “Don’t worry about what you will wear. I am here to take care of you.”

²⁸ So why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; ²⁹ and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. ³⁰ Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? –Matthew 6:28-30

You are more than conquerors.

 Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. –Romans 8:37

You are meant to be here. You have a purpose. His plans are better than we can imagine.

¹¹For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. ¹² Then you will call upon Me and go and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. ¹³ And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart. –Jeremiah 29:11-13

“You are loved.”

…says God.

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(sharing with Laura at The Wellspring, and Emily at Imperfect Prose and Jen for Soli Deo Gloria)

 

“What Will a Life Magnify?”

As he walked to calvary, as people spat and spurned, did Jesus continue to give thanks to God the father? When he was so greatly burdened, bowed down with the heavy load, bruised, agonizing, and all he could see were the dusty feet of those crying out for his death, what did Jesus feel toward those casting stones at him?

I’ll bet Jesus did long to wash those dusty feet. Indeed, his death was like the washing of their dusty feet… and ours. The night before he died, he washed his disciples’ feet. The day before bowing low while carrying his cross, the master bent low in humble service, giving to his beloved friends, those whom he trusted and those who followed him, those closest to him on earth, but still not fully understanding the mystery about him and what was about to unfold.

I’m certain Jesus was very lonely. No one really understood him. Or what he was really about. Until he was gone.

I wonder… do I understand any better than they? Even with the benefit of the Word written before me, the benefit of hindsight… they didn’t see what was coming, but I see retrospectively. Yet… they walked with him, in his presence, in daily closeness. Whose perspective should be more clear? We’re all seeing through a window muddy and eyes curtained, veiled here on earth, and must ask God to continuously wipe our lenses and hearts clean. For my default is to see not as things are, but as I am, from where I am, from who I am.

He was giving thanks to God, and asking for mercy for those around him. He surrendered his life, in order to give us life and offer us hope.

Ultimate surrender, leading to ultimate joy—communion with the Father. Ultimate grace he pours out, full surrender, willing, arms open wide, hands nailed, carrying the scourge of death and sin and agony of hell, so that we can even have the hope of understanding one iota, one “yod”, about grace, love, gratitude, joy. Without him, we couldn’t understand any of it, much less live it, or offer it.

He didn’t hurl rocks back, spit, cast angry glances, clamor back for the death of those killing him. His death washed the dusty feet of those killing him… his death washed sinful hearts clean of caked sin and self.

The words he spoke and breathed were grace-filled; he committed himself into God’s hands, and prayed in his prayer for forgiveness for those who killed him—words that reveal his heart. Love in that heart, God-love, in human bones and flesh.

Gentle and humble, not proud or vindictive, not even considering himself to be equal with God.

This is Jesus, who my heart follows.

This Jesus, who hung around with the imperfect people, the sinners, the outcasts, the folks who just didn’t have it all together.

I’m one of those he would have spent time with. I’m ok with that. 

Earthen shells, those of us following in his steps, also can be receptacles for this God-love, as we pour out what he gives us—as his love spills over and washes over those around us with a power that can heal.

But, it’s hard, isn’t it, because… it’s hard to wash the feet of those who don’t like us. It’s, shall we say, very difficult, to love our enemies and do good to those who hate us… the natural response is to fight back, hide from the pain, or protect ourselves from further hurt.

But… his surrender. It means open hands and an open heart to do that which we have no human power to do. And his power is made perfect in weakness. I’m glad of it… all glory belongs to Him. And, there’s no way I can do any of this on my own.

I don’t like the suffering. I suspect most of us don’t.

But I want Jesus. And what is the walk in this world of suffering doing, but to transform me into a soul, a heart, like his… being made ready for a more perfect place… a place of unspeakable beauty… and in the process spreading beauty here on earth, until I make it to that real home of mine.

Heaven is going to be some kind of place… with rest for the soul, perfect joy, infinite communion with the source of Love.

How is the suffering of this present world transforming you? transforming me? Because at the end of the day, we should ask ourselves this: “What will a life magnify? The world’s stress cracks, the grubbiness of a day, all that is wholly wrong and terribly busted? Or God?” — Ann Voskamp

(edited, from the archives) 

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Sharing with Jen at Finding Heaven and Laura at The Wellspring

 

On Having a Seder

Seder Plate. Tip: freeze the lamb shank bone to use again for the following year.

A few years ago, I felt inspired to have my own Seder Dinner. I read some materials and planned a whole meal, and invited one other family to join in the dinner. I even bought a special Seder plate for the occasion and goblet for the occasion (pictured above).

The dinner table… ready for guests! The seder plates are set, the dinner plates are stacked up.We had a feast!

The next year, I did it again… just for our own family. And the following year, I organized a Seder for our home school history co-op.

A guest’s Seder plate, with charoset, bitter herbs, salt water, horseradish

For dessert, I made a special treat, that I called “New Life Dessert”. It was a Martha Stewart recipe — chocolate cake baked in new and clean flowerpots, sprinkled with crushed  chocolate cookie crumbles, to look like dirt. For the “plant”, I used fresh sprigs of mint. If you really want to get creative, try to find some candy rocks. (I couldn’t find those… but I do remember searching for the right sized flower pots that year– it was freezing cold!) Doesn’t the “new life dessert” look real?

An edible plant! I saved the flower pots to use again! It looked so real… they fooled everyone!

At the end, I served the “new life dessert”, talking about the new life we have in Christ.

For a resource on putting together your own Messianic Seder Haggadah, here is one resource: A Christian Passover Seder by John Pontier. I also found many resources online.

Celebrate the new life we have in Christ!

Truth out of the Tomb

When God gave me words, pen and paper, and now computer screen, he gave me back some fragments of sanity… where would I be without words? For years I have poured out words… since I was 10, I have been spilling words on paper.

Words have helped me make sense out of life, have helped me work out grief, have helped me offer thanks to God, and have worked their magical way into doing something in my heart that needed to be done. Without words, I’d be an even bigger mess. Even with them, I’m still like sentence fragments, trying to piece together a complete thought, that will maybe make more sense at the end when God says my life story on earth is done. I seem a far cry from being done.

I’m feeling a bit melancholy, listening to nostalgic, calm piano music late at night, and spring seems far away, though I know it will eventually come.

I’ve believed too many lies in my life, and though I know I was late in identifying some of them– at least it happened. Because lies keep us in a tomb for so long and we need resurrecting… we need to bury the lies, leave them in the tomb and rise like the morning sun.

I was resurrected in Christ, a new self come to life, but some of that old stuff, like lies, stuck on for a while. It took me a long time to see it. Finally truth sank in, illuminated the darkness, and the lies were exposed.

I could move on.

It didn’t change where the lies led me. Circumstances are much more complicated. But in my heart, my life, the truth set me free, and it still is doing its work.

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Sharing with Laura at The Wellspring, and at The Better Mom

Empty Vases

Our lives are a thin vein scratch from death, a vapor, a wind, a flower that fades.

I’ve never had anyone very close to me die yet; however, as I’ve gotten older, death is that much closer. I know the day is coming, as the stories of death  hit closer to home than ever before.

I’m thinking these thoughts today because earlier this week, a mother of five, a sister,  teacher, wife, friend, artist, from my church, lost her life.

It started with a headache that turned out to be an aneurysm. That happened in January. And things seemed to be getting better. She was in rehab. But then a setback with another bleed, surgery, and….

It is a bit of a shock to our church community.

A few years ago, Laura lost one of her sons, as a freshman in college. He was in the shower, fell, and died of a brain injury. He was 19.

Now they don’t know if it was the fall that caused the son’s brain injury.

It was standing room only that night in church, when they had a service for him.

The next day, Sunday, his father preached. “Are you sure?” he was asked. “Yes,” he was sure, he said. He preached a sermon… the very next day. About God. How good God is. No matter what.

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Laura made a beautiful scrap quilt with a cross in the middle; donated it to church a year or so ago, and it has been hanging ever since in the sanctuary.

Tomorrow night is a visitation and memorial service. Empty vases will be on the altar for people to bring daisies and tulips– her favorites.

Empty vases… waiting to be filled.

Lord, fill the hearts of those who are grieving over Laura, fill them with hope, boost their faith when they are weak, and show them testimony of your love for them. Show them in little and big ways, that you see them.

I wasn’t one of their closest friends, but our lives and paths have crossed in various ways over the past 9-10 years.

When I started homeschooling 9 years ago, she invited me into her home, shared her home school journey with me, and even gave me some of her old Bob Jones books. I remember her telling me: she decided to pick a curriculum and just stick with it– and she didn’t waver from it. She did indeed stick with it. She decided to send her children to a local college-prep high school after homeschooling each one through the 8th grade. After they reached high school, she began teaching art– using her degree– in the small Christian school associated with our church.

When my kids attended that same school for a year, where she taught, my daughter ended up with Laura as her 8th grade homeroom teacher. And Laura told me how happy she was to have her in her class. Thank you, Laura. That was a difficult year in middle school.

One of Laura’s daughters, Abby, babysat for my kids years ago. Abby is a remarkable, beautiful young lady, who was studying in Germany this year and who loves to travel. She has friends from all countries in the world. She graduated from college last summer. She is applying for a Fulbright. I hope you get it, Abby. 

They all used to swim– all five of the kids. Each of her five kids was on a swim team. I remember Laura telling me, she just picked one sport for all of them to do together, and swimming was it. They all went swimming together.

The son they lost– he was a promising swimmer. A very promising swimmer.

My kids took swim classes there one year, with a couple of the daughters teaching. One night, we watched their swim team: the “Piranhas”. Formidable name, huh?

Before moving here, they were missionaries in Somalia. When the kids were younger, they moved back to the U.S…. and maybe some were born here? I don’t recall the year they came back.

I can’t imagine how the children feel… to have lost a brother, and now just a few years later, their mother.

***

My mother is having knee replacement surgery in mid-April, and I wonder about her going under anesthesia at her age. It makes me sad that I live so many miles away. And I can’t see her before the surgery.

I know that tomorrow… I won’t be able to hold tears back if I go. I tend to cry if someone else is crying. Well… now that I’m over 40, that’s what it’s like– I didn’t used to be that way.

Nothing stays the same… and yet, some things do. We all grow older, we change, we will laugh, we will mourn. And one day, we will move from this life to our eternal home.

One thing is certain: I know that she is with Jesus. And there are probably an endless number of tulips and daisies, in every color.

Something Big’s in the Stable and #980-1000

“It seems, then,” said Tirian, smiling to himself, “that the Stable seen from within and the Stable seen from without are two different places.”

“Yes,” said the Lord Digory. “Its inside is bigger than its outside.”

“Yes,” said Queen Lucy. “In our world too, a Stable once had something inside it that was bigger than our whole world.”

It was the first time she had spoken, and from the thrill in her voice Tirian now knew why. She was drinking everything in more deeply than the others. She had been too happy to speak.

C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle 

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“Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,
At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,
When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,
And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.”
–C.S. Lewis, “The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe”

I think there is no other story so compelling, so beautiful, than the true story of God’s love for us. It can be retold in different ways, as some brilliant and creative souls have done.

I love the thought of something bigger than the whole world contained in a tiny manger stall. I love that Jesus came as a humble baby, not born in great wealth or circumstances. I love that the works and miracles Jesus performed and all that he did cannot be contained in any number of books, that ink in the world would run dry before it were all told. The oceans themselves are a testimony to the depth of Who he is. It is unfathomable to my human brain.

At Christmas, a story is told, and I defy all logic and common sense and regard it as true. I know it to be true, and so do many other sane adults. This faith and belief is a supernatural gift that is not explained by those who do not wish to understand, by those who wish to deny or disbelieve. A creed is only as good as the ink it is written– it can be erased. But truth? The truth cannot be hidden or erased… nor will it be denied. Truth bubbles up to the surface of any pit of lies.

I celebrate this gift, which the season allows me to do in plain sight of everybody. Sadly, many do not know why this holiday is so special. For many in our culture, it is about the superfluous and extraneous parts (the gifts, the decorations, the treats, etc.)… but not about the true Person.  We have drifted far from the center of where we began; indeed, we as a country, and we as a people of the world. We have moved and I’m not sure how far away we are from Eden now. Flaming swords still keep us out, but those who wish to seek Him will still find Him.

And at the end of this year, 2012, I reach #1000 on my list– my list of thankfulness, which I began on March 7, 2011, right here. I didn’t know when I’d reach this point. It seems fitting it is at the end of a year, as I look ahead to the new corner. I will continue writing in my own private journal, keeping up with the little and big things God does and is, and this blog will continue on and wend its way on the net.

Wishing you a Merry Christmas as you celebrate the big gift of God’s love in a small, humble stable, may He richly bless you in the days and year ahead!

Sharing at A Holy Experience, counting to from 980 to 1000:

980. watching The Hobbit
981. children’s skit
982. Christmas concert with cellos and violins
983. Christmas eve service
984. Taking a walk in the park at night after the first snow with a few friends
985. Prayer
986. Big Christmas party - outreach event to others in the community
987. Attending a surprise party for someone else
988. a spontaneous pajama day
989. basketball games
990. Christmas cookies
991. taking a picture of the kids by a gigantic Christmas tree at the mall
992. anticipation
993. a camera… a most delightful gift!! A very special, long awaited, much anticipated, gift.
994. crackling fire in the fireplace
995. God’s forgiveness
996. thinking about what someone else would enjoy
997. a snow day
998. celebrating my daughter’s birthday on Dec. 24, a special Christmas gift
999. a surprise gift card
1000. a stable, 2000 years ago, containing something bigger than the whole world

The Gift of No Shadows, and #966-979

 

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Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.   James 1:17

When the sun is shining full and bright above, and the sun’s light falls upon me, it casts a shadow.

If there were no sun, there would be no shadow. If I were not coming in between the sun and the ground, there would be no shadow. Because I have blocked the sun, a shadow is cast. Yet without the sun, I would not even know a shadow is there.

If I move, the shadow also moves. We– people, that is– are like those shadows: shifting, changing, fickle. We change minds, interests, and even friends.

The language of friendship is not words but meanings.

The most I can do for my friend is simply be his friend.  – Henry David Thoreau

God is consistent in a changing world. His character is changeless. He does not shift as a shadow, does not turn in unexpected ways. He is constant; can be counted upon.

During this time of year, this verse from James stands out to me:

EVERY good and PERFECT gift is from the Father of heavenly lights above, who DOES NOT CHANGE like shifting shadows.

During this season, contentment may fall to the side, getting lost in the muddled hum of clinking ornaments and Christmas lists. It takes intention to stay focused on simpler virtues in a world that elevates wealth, owning, and winning.

Many around us perhaps do not know that this season is not about the lights decorating the tree or the house, the songs, the treats, parties, or the gifts.

One of the greatest gifts of this season is remembering that we worship a God who LOVES us unconditionally and unabashedly; a God who does not change or shift according to whim. He cannot be influenced politically or socially or economically. He simply loves and gives, without reservation.

source

This is indeed, a most perfect gift.

***

Sharing with Laura at The Wellspring, Jen at Finding Heaven, Ruth at the Better Mom, and counting to 1000 at A Holy Experience:

966. kindnesses bestowed

967. Consistency of God (James 1:17)

968. hosting thanksgiving

969.  safe and fun trip to Illinois for a practice debate tournament

970. answers

971. questions

972.  a gift

973. paper snowflakes

974. E outgrowing his egg allergy

975.  an empty kitchen sink

976. homemade buttermilk blueberry pancakes

977. watching Sherlock with N

978. eyeglasses

979. stringed instruments

The Hope Under His Never and #944-965

I’m not. And I will never be…

forsaken.

Forsaken… like a bride abandoned at the altar… like Jane Eyre left standing in white, when she finds out her beloved Rochester is really married to someone else. Forsaken.

But– I will never be forsaken–

by God.

By friends? Yes. Shall I show you the wounds? Jesus had them in the palms of his hands.
By enemies? Of course. To be expected. We don’t expect to be embraced by the enemy.
By family? Indeed. Battle scars, anyone? We’re hurt most by those who are the closest.
By acquaintances? It will happen. They aren’t so invested in the relationship.
By strangers? Of course. Strangers have no attachment to the relationship at all.

Has it happened to you… the forsaking, the being ”left out”, the ignoring, the ugly words… and some hurtful, painful deeds of those who had called themselves by the sweet name of “friends”? I have read the honest, raw prose of many blog writers out there, of the many painful times of betrayal or hurt… and I know I am not the only one, and I am thankful for these others who are transparent and share the scars and the healings and the joys of knowing a good God… because sometimes that is all we have… sometimes, there is nothing else in this world but Him standing there alone, with arms wide open. He will not abandon His beloved!

What about Him– the one who walks on water and the one who controls the winds?

He promises -
and He keeps His promises.
He says, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” And I know I can trust it to be true, I know it is true, I know that He cannot go back on His own word. Humans can.

But, God?

He honors His word.

It’s where I find shelter from it all. Under the wings of these promises. It’s where I find hope… under the word “never”…

He will never, never ever....

Then my soul breathes, sings, finds a reason and a purpose and a joy. I find it there, the hope under His never… His Never Forsaking.

What joy, my friends! What joy!

You Are Never forsaken.
………..And here is {HOPE}

***

Sharing with Laura at Playdates, L.L. Barkat at On, In and Around Mondays, Jen at Finding Heaven

***

I’m thankful… counting innumerable gifts, on my way to 1,000 with Ann for Multitudes on Mondays:

944. Hearing the answer “yes” to a prayer!
945. That I’m “never forsaken”… such a beautiful gift, astounding grace, unwavering, unflinching love… like nothing else on earth.
946. A child who was not feeling well getting better
947. A fractured finger by one of the boys on its way to healing
948. Tenacity… diligence… that I observe in my kids
949. A new friend… how nice and easy she is to talk to and discuss things with.
950. Thankful that God resides and presides over all the affairs of men. He disposes kings.
951. A fairly successful bake sale fundraiser– a first for us to participate at this scale… and fun to do.
952. The privilege to vote.
953. Finding out someone in my SDG small group lives a couple of hours away. Who’d have thought?? So neat.
954. Reading two books recently. One, a fictional comedy about a woman who “dies”, goes to heaven, then comes back. And the other, a moving novel set in war-torn Afghanistan, about a friendship between two boys.
955. Thankful for gasoline to put in my car, so I can drive places.
956. A small victory of reconciliation… talked with a fairly new acquaintance recently — we started to rub against each other over ideas, but we worked it out very nicely, through prayer and talking. Lovely when it happens like that!
957. Funny cartoon pictures drawn by my son.
958. A hilarious book of silly inventions which had me laughing silly. Sometimes you just need to laugh, no?
959. Josh being welcomed on a nearby basketball team by the coach.
960. Watching a documentary about a Japanese man who has been making sushi all his life, who is now over 80 years old… such a tenacity and work ethic that to learn from. Fascinating look into this person’s life and also the culture in which he lives.
961. My mom’s pecan pie recipe. Sweet taste of home.
962. God’s comfort.
963. Trusting, knowing that if He closes one door, He’ll open another and it is for the good.
964. Sweet fellowship with a sweet group of ladies.
965. The not-so-distant hoot of an owl, calling out at night.

***

The Quiet

Sometimes a person just needs to be bathed in it… drenched and soaked.

I close my eyes and hear it all around me… the incessant murmur of the sounds that make up my days. And while those can get truly get loud, it’s the ones in my head that are truly the loudest.

It’s the internal noises — you know the ones — that cause internal unrest or turmoil. The voices. Sometimes critical or hard. Sometimes the voice of truth through the Holy Spirit.

Yes, the clanging cymbals and noisy gongs are out there. I hear them all the time.

But soaking in His word… that brings me the quiet I need, it drowns out all the other voices, sinks them down under the sand.

***

Linking with Five Minute Friday today… with the word prompt “Quiet”. 

the reality of community, and #936-943

“‎Christian community is not an ideal which we must realize, it is rather a reality created by God in Christ in which we may participate.”~ Dietrich Bonhoeffer

I read that quote somewhere recently, and it got me thinking. Christian community will never be ideal… no community is. Church will never be ideal. No church will ever be– because it’s made up of imperfect people, like you and me.

Community isn’t an ideal– it is a “reality” that we step into. I like how he puts that. It’s “reality”.

And the reality we step into is our messes… the messes of our lives. We step knee-deep in the real stuff, make our way through– but we do it together. The reality is that we’ve all got the messes, and the beauty of true community is that we walk with one another through it all.

I love the thought of that, don’t you?

Some folks make “community” the goal. That is not the goal. Our goal is to glorify Christ.

We can do that through and in our community… but the goal is not only and merely community. We grow in community, we serve in community, we live in community– but our end-goal is to glorify the One who made it possible for us to live in community.

We know that we’re lonely without community. The need for fellowship is woven into our human fabric, whether or not it is acknowledged or realized. We can go from one extreme or to the other– not acknowledging the need and importance for community, to making it the end goal of our Christian lives. Neither extreme is meant to be.

It gets hard in our busy lives to make sure we’re doing this– being intentional about true and authentic relationships.  But– we get to participate in this. What a privilege, a joy. a gift!

It makes it easier to go through reality when we know we’re not alone. doesn’t it?

***

Counting to 1000:

936. One son attended an all-day retreat Saturday, with hiking, football, and devotions. The other son attended a “Heavenly Party” at church, learning about the joys of the heavenly kingdom. We had fun coming up with a Biblical character costume– he chose John the Baptist. He wore a long tunic with an animal skin belt (one of my scarfs with an animal print), sandals, and I sewed feathers in random spots on the tunic. Wish I had thought to take pictures!
937. The play is over and we enjoyed nice time of fellowship at a cast party, complete with chili, and games for the kids.
938. Bible study… going through the book of John.
939. Meeting and talking with a missionary last week.
940. My youngest reading through the Little House on the Prairie series of books. I started reading them aloud and now he’s taken to reading them on his own.
941. Sleeping in on Friday morning… a nice treat!
942. Sweet potato cornbread, black bean and corn salad… new recipes that turned out well.
943. Quiet days in which we don’t have to run to classes or other events. Like today.
***

Sharing in these lovely places on the web: Laura for Playdates with God, Jen for Soli Deo Gloria, L.L. for On, In and Around Mondays, and Ann for Multitudes on Mondays

Broken Dishes, #930-935

We paint the backdrop black– stark, plain and dark. It is what they want. My daughter and I, we are painting the backdrop for the set of an upcoming play. They want the black paint to cover up the previous colored canvas– cover it completely, so that no other color shines through.

That black paint follows me through the week. I have butter fingers– one day I drop a bowl, another day I drop a mug, shattering them to pieces.

But more than that, I carry black splotches on my heart when I don’t want to love, or forgive, or when I say or think something that I shouldn’t. These black spots hinder the light and cast a dark shadow over the days.

Thankfully the light uncovers the dark, wipes away the black, leaves the heart crystal clear. Thankfully, I can start over and these inky spots aren’t what define me. Thankfully there is a way out of the puzzle of the darkness.

Though I dropped a couple of dishes, I held many more up toward the sky, letting the God of the universe fill the cracked vessels to overflowing….

Time moves on and for a few days I tasted sweet fellowship of days gone by, as I spent time with loved ones. Minutes press forward, changing the flow and movement and state of life. I grieve for souls who are still searching for truth and meaning and joy– and what can I do about it? I often feel like I’m doing nothing, dumbstruck, saying the wrong things or nothing at all. I pray God takes my feeble attempts at living and transforms them into something I cannot even imagine.

In the quiet I am caught in the web of life, the past, present and future, relationships, and questions and circumstances weaving a place around me, and all the while looking upward for the answers and the focus.

***

930. The wonderful experience of being part of a play production with a Christian theater company.
931. Rays of light shining through gold, russet, crimson leaves.
932. Taking my youngest to an apple farm with a big group of others… petting and feeding goats, a corn maze, pumpkins, and topped with hot apple cider… a beautiful fall activity.
933. State-wide cross-country meet for the boys — fun, fun!
934. Homemade curried butternut squash soup– yummy.
935. Coupons!

***

Sharing with Laura for Playdates with God, Jen for Soli Deo Gloria, L.L. for On, In and Around Mondays, and with Ann for Multitudes on Mondays

The Promise of “Walk In It”

This season beckons walking outdoors. The nip in the air, the sweaters, hot cocoa and tea offer a feeling of warmth and coziness. Walking even a short distance renews the mind, speaks to the soul.  I don’t walk nearly enough… with kids still in need of attention, finding time for exercise and walking isn’t quite as simple, but neither is it impossible. It is usually myself that stops me– not external circumstances. How can I be my own enemy? Yet, I am, when I neglect myself and my health.

I looked up a few verses on “walking”– that is, the spiritual walk. Is it righteous? Is it a walk by faith? How is the walk? The “walk” reminds me of Pilgrim and his arduous journey; yet our journey is no less challenging. We face our own ponds of despair and seasons of wilderness. We also meet others on the journey who wish to deceive us.

This morning I imagined myself laying burdens at the feet of Jesus, like Christian, as if they were burlap-wrapped bags heavy on my back. One by one, I dropped burdens of various sizes, some large, some small, and I tried to name them as I placed them at His feet, though I was conscious I was not leaving them all there, that I was still carrying some of them.

On many junctures in this journey, I stop and wonder which way I am to go, and if I am on the right path. I am reminded of my choice and free will… and then I think of God’s sovereignty and His plan… and I wonder about it all. I am not so stuck in this way of thinking to not take any steps, but there are some things for which I need and want clear direction. Sometimes we know that we can choose among several alternatives, but other times, we need a “yes” or a “no” or “go this way”.

Tonight as I was reading and pondering all these things, I realize I only need take one step a time, even if the step is a small one.

Here are some of the verses I found on “walk” and “walking”:

¹ Blessed is the one
who does not walk in step with the wicked
or stand in the way that sinners take
or sit in the company of mockers,
² but whose delight is in the law of the Lord,
and who meditates on his law day and night.
³ That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither—
whatever they do prospers.  –Psalm 1:1-3

¹ Lord, who may dwell in your sacred tent?
Who may live on your holy mountain?
² The one whose walk is blameless,
who does what is righteous,
who speaks the truth from their heart;
³ whose tongue utters no slander,
who does no wrong to a neighbor,
and casts no slur on others — Psalm 15:1-3

For you have delivered me from death
and my feet from stumbling,
that I may walk before God
in the light of life. –Psalm 56:13

Though I walk in the midst of trouble,
you preserve my life. –Psalm 138:7

I will walk about in freedom,
for I have sought out your precepts. –Psalm 119:45

 For you, Lord, have delivered me from death,
my eyes from tears,
my feet from stumbling,
 that I may walk before the Lord
in the land of the living. –Psalm 116:8-9

¹¹ I instruct you in the way of wisdom
and lead you along straight paths.
¹² When you walk, your steps will not be hampered;
when you run, you will not stumble. –Proverbs 4:11-12

Whoever walks in integrity walks securely,
but whoever takes crooked paths will be found out. –Proverbs 10:9

Walk with the wise and become wise,
for a companion of fools suffers harm. –Proverbs 13:20

Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it. –Isaiah 30:21

Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the Lord
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint. –Isaiah 40:30-31

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. — Isaiah 43:2

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.
And what does the Lord require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God. –Micah 6:8

Which is easier: to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up and walk’? ⁶ But I want you to know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.” So he said to the paralyzed man, “Get up, take your mat and go home.” –Matthew 9:5-6

The people were amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the crippled made well, the lame walking and the blind seeing. And they praised the God of Israel. — Matthew 15:31

As they talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them — Luke 24:15

When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” –John 8:12

…and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. –Ephesians 5:2

If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin. –1 John 1:6-7

***

Sharing with: Laura for Playdates with God, Jen for Soli Deo Gloria, L.L. for On, In and Around Mondays, and Ruth at The Better Mom

***

Counting to 1,000 gracious gifts with Ann at A Holy Experience:

916. Wonderful visit with my parents, who live over 800 miles away.
917. Fantastic visit with a cousin I haven’t seen in 3 years. Played scrabble, had a little backyard fire pit and roasted marshmallows… a short but sweet visit to get caught up.
918. Thankful for the opportunity to be in my first performance in a theater production through the drama ministry at church. 4 more performances to go! It’s been fun and stretching, I’ve loved getting to know some new people, and I’d love to do it again. I greatly enjoy the acting, and I’ve learned so much about putting on a production from this angle (I’ve helped usher, with box office, I’ve attended plays, and my kids were in a production last year). One of my favorite things is praying with the group– each time we meet, we pray a lot. People share about themselves, and prayer needs for others.
919. Field trip to the museum
920. Interesting seminar.
921. Getting to know people. New friends and some old friends.
922. Finding peace through God’s word. Knowing that He walks with me, ahead of me and behind me. Thankful for the knowledge and assurance he knows the path and journey and I’m on.
923. Thankful for all He is teaching me– even the very hard things, for they bring me closer to Him and teach, teach, teach.
924. Praying to have love for those who are hard and difficult to love — and knowing that this is a prayer He can surely answer.
925. Thankful for the many ways He has blessed me. I sometimes look at all the obstacles and don’t see the other good things. It can be hard some days, no?
926. Fleece blankets. They are already needed for this gal who feels cold even at 50 degrees.
927. Movie night with popcorn, warm and cozy on the sofa.
928. Free picture editing program online.
929. Belting out worship songs, even at the expense of nearly losing my voice.
***

The Coat-Remover

Colors emerge like hidden jewels, sparkling in the sun. The season is turning, and once again I contemplate the beauty and lesson of the deciduous Tree.

Its branches are always lifted upward like arms in praise. With a dark, cold season approaching, Tree surrenders bravely as it is stripped of its glorious coat of color and stands bare naked in the coldest months of the year. 

I cannot understand all the cold days of this life, as I too have seasons when I feel as if my coat is being removed and I am losing what I once held.

But one of the sweetest reminders of  autumn is that hidden jewels exist behind the coat– that there are “great and unsearchable things” that the Coat-Remover Himself waits to reveals to us– words of life and wisdom, the peace of His presence, and so much more.

As leaves fall, I am reminded to search for the timeless treasures left behind behind when coats are removed– truths from the hand of the Tree Maker Himself.

Sharing with Sandra:

and Diedra:

One More Day

The wind whispers in the leaves, “change is coming, can you hear it?” Autumn breezes softly blow and colors subtly change. The wind scatters the few fallen leaves like my thoughts. That is when I remember the Holy Spirit moves like the wind, a gentle reminder to me that He is here, moving, working, the source of power in this weak human flesh.

Autumn, previously my favorite season, is now a bittersweet season. I love the colors, the cinnamon-baked apples, the crunchy leaves. But the realization is that winter is just ahead, the season I most dread. I must prepare mentally for months of cold and bitter winds and inches and feet of snow on the ground (usually for weeks). I brace myself for the “attack of the cold.”

As light breezes blow outdoors, I reflect how small I am… and how big God is and He holds me in His palm… that He flings my sin from me as far as the east is from the west… that the sun is shining one more day, and I have one more day, one more day. to make it count, to do the right thing, to do the better thing, to do the next thing that is good. To choose. What a difference it makes to consider if this is my last day on earth… how would I act, what would I do? 

I admit my thoughts this morning weren’t in line with one of my best days. As soon as messages started piling in from the world, I wanted to hold onto my rights, demand justice. Instead, the limbs nodding outdoors remind me to sweetly surrender all of these things, the situations, the relationships, the wrongs committed, the hurts, into His capable hands.

But for today, I get to choose. To choose Him. To choose a different way. A better way. My prayer today: God help me to choose the better way!

***

Sharing with Laura at Playdates with God, Jen at Finding Heaven, L.L. Barkat at On, In and Around Mondays and Ruth at The Better Mom

One Thing Certain, and #902-915

Uncertainties abound.

Our world today is in turmoil. Tensions are high in the Middle East. Countries are in finanical trouble. People are without jobs. Families are struggling in numerous ways.

Amidst the shakiness of shifting ideals, policies, morals, ideas, and conditions, stands the solid truth of God’s word. God’s word is a safe place. A steadfast place. A trustworthy rock. A shelter in times of uncertainty.

Uncertainties abound– whether political or personal… in business, school, and at home.

When the world shakes all around, I look for the signs of hope in calamity. I see it in God’s word, which sometimes I feel like I’m holding onto like a rope with dangerous seas below.

But I also see hope in the birds that sing, in the squirrels preparing for winter, in the sun shining today, in the world that keeps turning, in the smiles and dreams of youngsters all around. God is not dead. He is alive and at work. The waves on the shore have not overtaken the land. The waters have not overcome the earth. There are people who still believe in God, and His word, and His redemptive plan, and that He is in charge no matter what happens.

God and His word, and His love? It’s the one thing certain.

***

Sharing with Ann at Multitudes on Monday, counting to #1000:

902. Watching birds outside the window
903. Attending the boys’ cross-country meets
904. The excitement of new classes starting in the fall
905. Two bike rides (one 8 miles, one 4 miles), and an exercise class this past week
906. Lactose-free chocolate ice cream. Did I mention it was chocolate?
907. Curriculum planning and picking
908. Zucchini bread
909. Field trip to the art museum on a beautiful day and picnic lunch with friends
910. New season of piano lessons and hearing the familiar sound of piano practice in the background….
911. Carpooling with a friend. Especially to faraway places (meaning 15-20 or more miles away). Takes the sting out of the long drive and high gas prices.
912. Family game night– playing “Clue”
913. Pretty nail polish
914. Watching one son play a game all by himself, “Risk”… because he can’t find anyone to play with him. (it’s a long, complicated game and not everyone wants to play….)
915. Watching my daughter knead dough for homemade deep fried flatbread (called “pooris/puris”)

to the younger generation: on maturity

source

I see some of the younger generation floundering a bit.

Some don’t seem to have direction. Some are so into themselves and their own lives they give no concern or thought to others or their needs or the world around them. Some are so flippant in their relationships, not caring for others’ feelings. Some cannot think for themselves, going along with the group. Some expect answers or results right away, not wanting to take the time to do the necessary hard work on their own. Some are apathetic; they simply don’t care.

Sadly, our education system has been increasingly dumbed down so that in many schools, students are simply churning out worksheets while the U.S. spends more money on education, but not truly receiving an education that frees one to truly think.

Did you know that the U.S. government spent $809 billion in education in 2011? This infographic shows U.S. spending compared to 11 other countries (Germany, U.K., Japan, Finland, Australia, Russia, Mexico, South Korea, Brazil and France). $809 billion!! The U.S. spends waaaay more than than the country next on this list– which is Japan, spending a measly $160 billion. Russia spends almost $87 billion and Finland spends the least, only $10 billion per year.

Let’s break that down to a per-child expenditure, according to the graphic. The U.S. spends over $7700 per child, followed by the UK, which spends over $5000 per child. Japan spends over $3700 per child.

The literacy rates of Finland and Russia are the highest, 100% and 99.4 %, respectively (which spend among the least).

Want to guess which country ranks first in this list in both math and science scores?

You guessed it. It’s Finland– the country that spends the least.

Guess where the U.S. ranks in math scores? 10th.
Guess where the U.S. ranks in science scores? 9th.

If our youngsters had to start a country from scratch like this nation was founded, I wonder– could they do it? Could they produce as eloquent a document as the Constitution, the Preamble, the Bill of Rights? Indeed, do the God-given rights that seemed so obvious to the founding fathers of the United States seem so obvious to our citizens now? or to our young people?

Sometimes I wonder– can people see the stars in the sky?

I wish I could say it is different among the young people in the church. Unfortunately, I’m not sure it truly is. I can’t say that there is such a strong dichotomy between those who are Christian or go to church and those who aren’t or don’t go to church.

Do you find the contrast clear? In general, I find it a bit fuzzy. Again, there are indeed many examples of fine young people who have integrity, character and who love God. But among all the youth, they are not the norm, but the exception. I can’t generalize; this is not true of ALL the youngsters. But I find the trends a bit concerning.

A nation that is losing its moral compass, its direction, its heritage… a nation that has been exceedingly blessed… we are in trouble from so many directions and I’m not sure we are doing what we should be doing to equip our young people.

Going to church does not guarantee anything– it does not guarantee a certain outcome. I remember a saying I learned when I was in high school: “going to church doesn’t make someone a Christian anymore than going into a garage turns someone into a car.”

Yet we still sometimes act as if this is the case, which is why we are surprised to learn that so many college students actually leave the church. Why it is to surprising when we focus so much on outward practices? When church sometimes looks like a place to act as if everyone has it all together? When no one acts any different?

Likewise, I don’t think that reading one’s Bible or memorizing scripture makes one a Christian, either, although those are most definitely practices a true believer ought to pursue.

The Pharisees were quite good at playing this game. They memorized, knew the scriptures, and knew how to behave piously when others were watching. For some of them,  I think they genuinely thought they were indeed doing the very best thing…they were of course, blinded and deceived (and deceived by their own hearts).

And that is what is scary, isn’t it? When pride and rule-following and completing all the right “practices” fool one into thinking that is all there is to it?

You know I think we are all good at playing the game. I can be a nice little Pharisee at church; can you? Be nice and smile at everyone, hug babies, help walk old ladies, be the last ones to leave and then yell in the car at the kids on the way home from church?

No, that is not what it is about.  Because if it were, then surely the person who has memorized the most scripture or read the most or never yelled or gave the most or “whatever” the most– that person would “win”. The rest of us would “lose”.

Wrong gospel.

The gospel of Jesus Christ is not rules-based. It is relationship-based. Jesus cares about the condition of our heart and soul and less concerned with what we do or say for “show”. Jesus exposed the truth of the heart of the Pharisees… and most of them couldn’t take it, couldn’t face themselves, couldn’t believe it, or wouldn’t believe it.

We don’t stand a chance if we had to be so perfect.

I don’t know if young people today know what it means to be truly mature. What does that look like? How many examples of noble and Godly character can we each recite, off the bat? There might be a few. Are they living or from the past? How are we exemplifying or teaching this? Are we maturing ourselves?

As parents, or adults of influence (and we all are, whether we recognize it or not), we may be acutely aware of our weaknesses (as well we should be– part of being mature is realizing our own depravity and our own weaknesses), but our strivings and goals are toward that mark of maturity. And part of it is realizing that maturity is a lifelong goal and a lifelong process. We will never achieve the true perfection in our lifetime– but we can thankfully make some steps forward in the right direction to help guide those younger ones who are coming behind us.

Our education system is lagging behind, and we can’t expect the schools or educators to offer our children the moral compass and truth they need to truly live. Or even to think. The “dumbing down of America” is no myth, which leaves our youngsters vulnerable to false doctrines, false gospels, false prophets and any other lies that the enemy wants to throw this direction to cause us to fall. If he can attack our future leaders, if our youngsters haven’t learned how to think for themselves and are susceptible to falling prey to lies and false propaganda, then this country is in some kind of trouble. We must teach our young people to be able to think and to speak.

We adults may not have it all together (who does??) and may be painfully aware of where we fail and fall and need to grow (and right we should be). But we have a job to teach the younger. We’re older, we’ve been around the sun a few times and younger people haven’t yet. Despite the failings or mistakes of  maturing adults, we have responsibilities and gifts to pass on to the next generation. It is part of getting off the milk and moving to solid food, to step up and speak and share and take some responsibility.

I want to end with some quotes I found on maturity and spiritual maturity. This is by no means all I have to say on this topic of the younger generation; it is also on my heart to share about the importance of integrity– especially in a time when it seems that honesty, integrity, character, and a good name are not given enough serious consideration. Also on my heart is to talk about the media, and also social media. So many things to talk about.

But for now, I’ll end with the quotes:

One of the marks of spiritual maturity is the quiet confidence that God is in control – without the need to understand why He does what He does. –Anonymous

There is a canyon of difference between doing your best to glorify God and doing whatever it takes to glorify yourself. The quest for excellence is a mark of maturity. The quest for power is childish. — Max Lucado

We fail to see the place of suffering in the broader scheme of things. We fail to see that suffering is an inevitable dimension of life. Because we have lost perspective, we fail to see that unless one is willing to accept suffering properly, he or she is really refusing to continue in the quest for maturity. To refuse suffering is to refuse personal growth. –Henri J. M. Nouwen

When I was young I was sure of everything; in a few years, having been mistaken a thousand times, I was not half so sure of most things as I was before; at present, I am hardly sure of anything but what God has revealed to me. –John Wesley

A state of mind that sees God in everything is evidence of growth in grace and a thankful heart. –Charles G. Finney

The first mark of maturity is the ability to deal constructively with reality to face facts, to not cover up reality or call it something else, but to deal with it as it is. Mature people do not kid themselves. The second mark is, adapting quickly to change. We all experience change, whether it be physical, at work, in the family, or whatever. I am amazed at how much some of you have changed through the years while I remain exactly the same! Immature people resist change. It ma Kes them nervous. But the mark of maturity is to adapt to change because change is inevitable. The third mark is freedom from the symptoms of tension and anxiety. The worried look, the frown, the ulcers, the palpitations of the heart – come because you are upset, anxious and worried. Maturing means you have begun to see that God is in control of this world. He is working out purposes that you do not always understand, but you accept it. He will take you through the deep water, not drown you in it. Maturity means you are learning to trust. Fourth, it means to be satisfied more with giving than receiving. Some of you have recently learned that the joy of Christmas is not getting presents but giving them. To see the joy in someone else’s face when they get something they either need or want. That is a sign you are growing up. You are discovering the true values of life. The fifth mark is, to relate to others with consistency, helpfulness and mutual satisfaction. Maturity is learning to get along with other people, to be a help, not a hindrance, to contribute to the solution and not to be always a part of the problem. Finally, maturity is sublimating and redirecting anger to constructive ends. Maturity is the ability to use the adrenaline that anger creates, not to lose your temper and add to the problem, but to correct a situation or to contribute to changing the nature of the difficulty. — James I (J. I.) Packer

Maturity consists of no longer being taken in by oneself.                        –Proverb

Maturity begins to grow when you can sense your concern for others outweighing your concern for yourself.
–John MacNaughton

Maturity is the ability to think, speak and act your feelings within the bounds of dignity. The measure of your maturity is how spiritual you become during the midst of your frustrations. –Samuel Ullman

The awareness of the ambiguity of one’s highest achievements (as well as one’s deepest failures) is a definite symptom of maturity. –Paul Johannes Tillich

***

Sharing with Laura at Playdates with God, L.L. at In, On and Around Mondays, Jen at Soli Deo Gloria, and Ruth at The Better Mom Monday’s Link-up

Words From a Russian Gulag, and #892-901

Swimming pools are closed, boats are docked, school starts and summer comes to grinding halt… the American holiday of Labor Day is a turning point. I don’t let summer go so easily; I hold on as if something precious is slipping away. The end of summer marks the beginning of cold, bitter weather… with a brief respite of spiced apple cider and crunchy fall leaves in between. The autumn here is short; the winter is very long.

Moving through the seasons of life is a bit the same. The seasons of relatively trouble-free times are short, actually. Most people I know would agree. The truth is we are always at the cusp of a storm– whether we’ve just walked through one, or are about to walk through one. Life isn’t about the calm weather.

I read this quote the other day:

“Bless you prison, bless you for being in my life. For there, lying on the rotting prison floor I came to realize that the object of life is not prosperity as we have been told, but rather the maturing of the human soul.”
– written by Russian novelist, Alexander Solzhenitsyn, after having spent 12 years in Russian gulag

Spending 12 years in a Russian labor camp will produce something in a person. It will either be character, or bitterness. But there will be a result.

I can’t imagine spending 12 years like this. Where does a person’s hope come from? Even for the strongest person– how does he keep from falling into despair over the daily drudgery, injustice, cruelty? How and where?

Our prisons, our hardships, our trials, our storms– they show us something that fair weather obscures from our view. They show us a piece of truth that we need to know. They reveal to us why we are here and what is important. What we each might take away during our trials is different. For Solzhenitsyn, he realized, on the rotting prison floor that life was not about gaining more prosperity, but rather it had to do with something more– “the maturing of the human soul.”

And just how does a human soul become mature? The answer, my friend, can be found here:

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. –James 1:2-3

Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. –I Peter 4:12

For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. –2 Corin. 4:17

Now I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel. –Philippians 1:12

But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. ⁸ What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ ⁹ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. ¹⁰ I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, ¹¹ and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead. –Philippians 3:7-11

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. — Proverbs 1:7

One could argue, based upon the above verse from Proverbs, that trials are not even necessary– but the fear of the Lord is. Perhaps. I certainly believe God can impart any kind of wisdom He desires any of His children should have, when He wants them to have it and when they need it.

But in my experience, it’s the dirty floor of suffering, the floor where our tears have washed the ground, that teaches in a profound way what is really important. Being on the floor brings us back to the face of God, and that is where anything and everything makes much more sense. I can’t say I, or we, will understand it all. But we’ll know what is important, what is real, what is true, and what road to take.

***

Counting gifts, #892-901:

892. a sunny morning
893. hearing crickets at night
894. grilling burgers and sharing with a neighbor
895. a picnic for a friend’s little boy
896. first day for daughter to go to high school, part-time
897. the kids sailing on the lake
898. the Bible Bee, finished, all went well
899. people who smile when they see you….
900. cleaning and decluttering, bit by bit
901. that it’s still warm, it hasn’t turned cold yet

***

Linking with Ann for Multitudes on Mondays, L.L. for On, In and Around Mondays, Laura for Playdates with God, Jen at Soli Deo Gloria, and Ruth at The Better Mom

A Plan — of Sorts

Sometimes, I get a hankering to change furniture around. It seems that most every year, I rearrange the furniture in the “school room” (the former dining room).   I usually think I can’t come up with a new configuration– I mean, there are only a limited number of spots a desk, a table, and a bookshelf can fit, but then lo and behold, somehow, it happens and we have a new furniture arrangement. The freshness, the newness, the cleaning out and straightening up… it is needed.

So it is with this blog… lately I am just tired of the same old look. I change the header to reflect the current season… but I’m not quite satisfied or settled with it. I want a nice new logo or theme or– something.

It’s not just the looks… but the content, too.

I’ve been wondering: should I write a political post? I could write one. But I don’t want to stick to that topic only. Talk about controversy. Discussing politics would surely bring on a plethora of opinions and ideas.

Yet, I’m hankering… for more. I want some real, deep discussion.

I stick to nice topics, usually. But lately… I’m wondering if my pencil has just been a tad too dull. Should I be controversial? I don’t know if I really am a controversial type of person– the type to write controversial blog topics.

Maybe all I want is to take it all just a level deeper.

So I haven’t been writing here lately. I recall that last August, I took a break as well. This year, it wasn’t planned that way– it just happened that way. This year again, I find the break has been extremely helpful, useful, necessary, in processing my thoughts and ideas about the blog (and other things).

I need the change, I need the fresh air… I need something– different.

There are a gazillion books to read– and write and blog about. There are innumerable conversations to be had.

I’m considering so many different directions– it’s crazy– but I know I won’t and can’t go into all of those directions. That would be like demagnetizing the compass and watching the needle spin.

Always– I should be pointing toward the true North. 

In the midst of a crazy busy fall season ahead… with the school year about to begin and with me literally moving things around the house… and knowing I won’t get this all done by Tuesday… I am STILL blogging.

But I want a new header, a new design. Same old… it’s getting old-lookin’ to me.

Then some fresh words to fit…

about theology, religion, Christianity, living out the faith, etc.

So there. A plan– of sorts.

10,000 Reasons = #891

Sometimes, you just need this reminder. That, even while cracks and fissures are opening all around, that the walls may be crumbling… that there are still… 10,000 reasons to thank Him. To worship. This song ministers to me each time I hear it… and I sure do need its message of truth. Hope it blesses you today. “10,000 Reasons” by Matt Redman:

***

Linking with Ann at A Holy Experience for Multitudes on Mondays. This song is #891 on my list of thanks.

Five Minute Friday: Connect

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community...

CONNECT

We aren’t connected by a web of wires criss-crossing the world, through virtual networks and physical lines. It’s our hearts that have lines between them, interweaving webs of dreams and tears and sharing steps on this common journey.

I’m connected with you because I’m a daughter, a wife, a mom, a sister, a friend, an aunt, and so many other things. We’re linked, like a beautiful chain. I know what it’s like to be up all night with a crying child and I know what it’s like to drown tears with caffeine with a girl friend.  I know what it’s like to fret about weight and body image and about clothes and the “mean girls”… but I also know truth, friendship, and grace and letting people in my messy house and life. Though I haven’t met you, we breathe the same air, we’re made of the same dust, and we cry and laugh over some of the same stuff. You are a friend I haven’t met. I know that there are things we have in common. And that makes me smile, makes me feel like I’m not running this race alone.

Each day of my life, and yours, is a piece, a dot. Each mistake, each success, each joy, each sorrow, each milestone, is a dot. All of us are bound together, as women, as people. We are gloriously made in the image of God, and when I look at you I want to see what He sees. What unites us—all of us on earth—is that we live under the very breath of God.

Often I can’t figure out what the end picture will be, after all the dots are connected. And maybe I won’t get to know the big picture. But I do hope that when all the dots are connected, it will say who I lived for. And I’m so glad to be connected with others, like you, on the way. Hopping from one dot to the next—I couldn’t go on this journey alone. Being connected– it’s something I need, something we all need– as lines are drawn from one point to the next. I won’t let you walk alone — and don’t let me walk alone,either, if you happen to see me along the way.

“Difficult Times Ahead…”

August 5, Sunday. On this day in history: 7 people were shot in a Sikh temple in Oak Creek, WI. Three are still in critical condition.

It is only two weeks since the mass shooting at a theater in Aurora, CO. And now there is another tragedy.

After Sunday’s shocking, senseless attack at worshipers in their temple, we are left saddened, bereaved, and wondering why. So much hatred and bigotry. Still.

I held back tears during the day as I watched the events unfold and as details were released. So far it appears that a single gunman acted alone. The motive is not yet confirmed, though speculations appear on the news that this is a hate crime.

The Sikh community needs our prayers and the love of Christ. They are feeling sadness and shock and pain… and fear.

The book of 2 Timothy, chapter 3, starts with these words:

^1-5Don’t be naive. There are difficult times ahead. As the end approaches, people are going to be self-absorbed, money-hungry, self-promoting, stuck-up, profane, contemptuous of parents, crude, coarse, dog-eat-dog, unbending, slanderers, impulsively wild, savage, cynical, treacherous, ruthless, bloated windbags, addicted to lust, and allergic to God. They’ll make a show of religion, but behind the scenes they’re animals. Stay clear of these people. (The Message)

It would seem we’re already in this stage, doesn’t it? But sadly, although we’re sinking pretty low, we still aren’t at rock bottom yet. I’m not trying to sound pessimistic; I think it’s just right there in scripture, how bad it’s going to get. “There are difficult times ahead.” While it’s not great right now, it can certainly get worse.

We don’t wake up in the morning knowing if this day will be our last one on earth. We don’t expect to be ambushed in our place of worship. We don’t expect to attend a movie and not come out alive. We don’t expect terrorism, hate crimes, or violence to touch us. For the most part in this country, we have been able to live without this type of daily fear. Yes, things changed after 9/11, but we have still been able to live in a fair amount of peace and freedom, going about our daily business for the most part.

But, now?

It feels like it’s hitting closer to home. For all of us. A theater? A place of worship?

Most of my readers do not know that I was born in Punjab– the same state in India where the religion of Sikhism was born. I have been in the U.S. since I was a baby, when my parents moved here. I was brought up here in the states, and am a U.S. citizen. My parents grew up in in India. They are not Sikhs. But Punjab is their home. So those people in that temple… though I know them not, they look like me. They have different names, like me. (My real name is not “Anna”. It is my pen name. I do mention this on my “About Me” page. And I am a Christian, a born-again believer– the first in my family. But that’s the subject of another post.)

I guess that is why this one hits deeper and I feel it.

It could have been anyone who looks in the least bit different. And doesn’t it break your heart? It breaks mine. All people are precious, made in the image of God.

I simply pray: for the people of the Sikh community, for the victims’ families, for the hatred to end, for peace to prevail, and understanding for us all… and that we would learn how to mourn with those who mourn.

Sharing with Jen at Finding Heaven, Laura at The Wellspring, and L.L. Barkat at Seedlings in Stone

***

Thankfully , this week I had been counting some gifts before this tragedy occurred… otherwise, I might not have remembered… #882-890:

882. a car that works
883. comfortable walking shoes
884. all kinds of clouds in the sky: fluffy, puffy, wispy, long, full, dark, light, airy, thick, gray… such beauty
885. abundance of eggplant from the garden… so much I have to give some away
886. Thirst. It reminds me why I’m here; it reminds me of my dependence on God.
887. Piling on the couch with blankets and watching the Olympics.
888. Water, clean drinking water. We can’t take it for granted.
889. Kids having friends over (they had a Nerf gun battle, played Apples to Apples, jumped on the trampoline)
890. Picking up daughter from music camp

Counting to 1000 gifts with Ann at A Holy Experience

He is Here

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

OK, are you ready? Please give me your best five minutes on:::

Here…

GO

The spirit hovered over the waters. Before it all began, His breath was here, blowing dreams into being. Mighty oaks, redwoods, the earth’s crater-bowls of oceans, large blocks of land, the unending sky… all were here in the beginning. He made it so.

Creation still echoes in the canyons, bounces off clouds and lands soft in my ears. I hear the thump, I hear His heart beating in the rapid thrum of the hummingbird’s wings. Indeed… He is here.

The mystery of Love, of Him, who was and is, who was there, and here, and everywhere, the mystery of Him who IS- always, was, and will be… is here, with me. I carry it, this mystery, this wonder. This beautiful world aound me is full of Him, His presence here. Love is permeable; He moves in and  out and through all barriers of hate and hardness… He is always here. I can’t explain how He is with me and with you at the same time… except that at the same time He is big enough to be everywhere and yet small enough to be right here with me, in me.

As I walk the paths of old, I can’t quite see what’s ahead. Truthfully, often I have no idea what is up ahead on the trail. But even then, He is here — and there. He is with me as I walk and He is there, just up ahead.

Men of the world will call me foolish, unwise, uneducated, simple, gullible… for believing. Because what I have said makes no logical, scientific sense.

I can’t put Him, who IS, the great I AM, who is here and there and everywhere, in a box that can be sealed and labeled and shelved. He is beyond our labels. How does one explain Love, Truth?

How can God be denied… when He says the heavens declare His glory and all of creation speaks of Him? If I understood the birds, I think they would be singing praises. Just because I cannot understand their language does not mean they are not speaking something of beauty.

When I close my eyes, He is there. When I open my eyes, He is here.

Where can I go from His presence? Maybe in times of shame I want to hide, but I cannot go anywhere He is not.

All of a sudden, I feel a longing — a longing to be there, where Adam once was, walking with Him in the garden.

But I need not– because my wish is already granted, my longing already fulfilled: He is here.

***

Memories From Camp (my own writing prompt)

My youngest rides a horse at Family Camp last summer…

I read the advice today: “Just write and keep writing.”

Even on days when I feel as if I have nothing at all to say, when it seems as if all has already been said in this online world of words… I keep pressing on.

So, today, I will share my exercise with you. I have only a limited amount of time… but the thing is, see, I DO have some time today– I actually do! So I am allotting myself 30 minutes to write this post.

It might turn out to be utter nonsense, but I will hit the “publish” button when I am through.

Why not? On Fridays, I spend 5 minutes writing using a five minute writing prompt (and then it sometimes takes much longer searching for a free photo to use along with it). I could stretch this to 30 minutes.

Here goes: Memories From Camp

GO

My daughter is gone to a week-long camp several hours away from home. It is a music camp. I am not worried at all, she is actually with another family that I know, with another girl her own age. They don’t have the same music classes, but the girls are sharing a room, eating meals together, etc. I can imagine it is a new experience. It is not a church or Christian camp, but a camp devoted to music (she plays cello).

Come to think of it, my first week away from home was at a music camp, too. It was “music camp week” at a christian camp, and my church youth choir went every year single summer. I was 12 when I first went.

In spite of some of the weird things that happened, it was a good camp– overall.

I had taken some spending money, because at night we raided the candy machine for candy bars. My favorite was “Bar None”. Walking on the way from the candy machine to the rooms, a huge insect flew in front of me– and landed right on my bottom lip. And stung me.

Ouch.

And, weird.

I took Benadryl.

But that’s ok, because I needed Benadryl anyway, since I had a rash on my legs already.

The rash? Oh, from Tide detergent… which is the detergent they were using to wash the bedding at camp.

Yeah, I was (and maybe still am?) allergic to Tide.

Freaky stuff.

So there you have it: a couple of memories from music camp.

Subsequent camp trips went much better: I took my own sheets. I kept my eyes peeled for flying insects.

Oh yeah… and there was the time our church youth group went to Florida. That story  involves alligators, canoeing, vaseline, toilets, and sheets. Need I say more?

I’ll save that for another time.

Believe it or not, my time is up. (I actually stopped writing in the middle of this post to respond to some tweets and another comment on another blog. Lost my focus there, for a few minutes. So I actually spent less than 30 minutes on this, since I got distracted).

Which reminds me of an idea I saw posted somewhere recently: when writing, CLOSE ALL OTHER TABS, so as not to be distracted to check e-mail, social media, and follow links that take one all over the internet.

Apparently, this is advice I need.

***

There you have it. My own writing exercise.

What about you? Do you have any interesting or funny summer camp stories to share? Please share in the comments section!

The Race We Run

I’ve been watching (along with millions of others) some of the Olympics the past few days. I enjoyed the parade of nations at the opening ceremonies as athletes from over 200 countries entered the same arena, one group after another. It was a gorgeous sight… so many beautiful people from all over the world. I would have loved to have heard them break out in a worship song! The nations, singing together? It would be a glorious sound.

I am amazed at what the human body is capable of, and how far these athletes can push themselves. Athletes work hard, and their diligence reminds of these words by Paul: “No, I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.” (1 Corin. 9:27)

Some of these competitors have been training for many, many years and have remained dedicated to their goal, persisting over a long period of time. I have heard stories of athletes who have experienced great hardship, injury, personal difficulties, and have overcome their obstacles to get themselves to the Olympics.  While each competitor has a unique story, I find the stories of athletes who are overcomers to be especially inspiring.

The persistence and discipline required are something we don’t see– the training in the trenches, daily. We see the end result at the Olympics– but we know that these individuals have sacrificed much and trained hard to make it to this point.

Yet even with the best of training, accidents, injuries, and unknown circumstances can change the course of a competition, and we see falls, mistakes, upsets, surprises, and losses. Even with hard work, the records that are set could be broken by someone else in the next round, or next year, or in the next Olympic games, because it seems that every four years, the competitors push themselves a little more, adding yet another more complicated element, or competing faster, which then pushes everyone else to attain that level.

There is something within an Olympian that pushes him or her. Perhaps it is the desire for a gold medal. Perhaps it is the goal to be the best at one’s chosen sport. Perhaps it is the thrill of competing and continuously improving one’s own score. Perhaps it is the desire to bring honor to one’s own country. Whatever the goal, the athlete decides that the end result is worth the sacrifice required.

When an Olympian wins a gold, then what? Sometimes, athletes will return to the games twice or three times, or more in a few cases, to try for another medal, to beat their own personal best, or to set a new world record.

But then what?

Paul, before the Lord spoke to him, had a goal: persecuting Christians. He was zealous in this pursuit. But when the Lord spoke to him, blinded him, and he changed, Paul still had a goal, and remained zealous, though his goal changed completely. Now, his zeal was for the gospel of Christ to such a degree that he said this: “What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ.” (Phil. 3:8)

This life, Paul says, is like a race: “ Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.” (1 Corin. 9:24)

What is the prize we are going after?

Whether athlete or not, competing or pursuing a goal for one’s own personal glory might feel nice for a short time, but this goal is short-lived, and superficial.  At the end of the day, no matter what one does, Olympian or not, famous or not, young or old, rich or poor, each person has to look in the mirror and has to answer the deep questions of life, and know why he or she is here, and what life is really about, and one day will answer to God.

At the end of the day, each one of us is fighting, and running a race, and the glory of a medal isn’t what is going to get us through. We need to know what we’re fighting for, and why, and for whom.

***

Sharing with sweet friends here, Laura at the Wellspring, and Jen at Finding Heaven

***

Sharing a few things on the thankful list, at A Holy Experience: #871-880:

871. That Christ’s strength is made perfect in my weakness.
872. Tall, brightly colored zinnias
873. Appliances: washing machine, dryer, dishwasher
874. Thunderstorms and rain
875. homemade oatmeal cookies
876. my pillow
877. tea and bagels in the morning
878. My two boys, who rode their bikes 5 miles one way, played softball in the park, then rode their bikes back. They’re growing up fast.
879. My daughter, who says, “need help? anything I can do?” I have the best kids in the world.
880. Me, a broken person, mama, and all of it… yet God using me in spite of me.
881. This quote:
“It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”  C.S. Lewis

Doctor’s Helper

When I was eight years old, we moved to Alabama from South Dakota. I vividly remember the move. My father was one of the first two physicians in our small town, they needed doctors, and they were happy to have us move in.

My father borrowed money and  bought  an old apartment building and had it renovated to include a lobby, several patient rooms, his office, and a lab room. He was busy in those early years.

By the time I was a teen, I would help out in the office in the summers, in the front desk area. I learned how to answer the phone cheerfully, giving the name of the business and asking, “May I help you?”

I would make copies, file charts, make appointments, and do other office-related duties. If the front desk attendant was sick or away on vacation, I was eventually able to carry on her front desk tasks…

to read the rest, click here…

***

Remember your first job? Today, I share memories of my first as part job, and am thrilled to be sharing for the First Job series for David Rupert at The High Calling, who blogs at http://redletterbelievers.blogspot.com/. Come on over and read the rest of the story, and the other “First Job” stories… you will be inspired! 

Bits of Chocolate

I like imagining and thinking and conjuring. I could easily spend way too much time dreaming. I’m kind of a dreamer.

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But, I realize that what I’m imagining, what I’m thinking, what I’m dreaming is but only a tiny sliceo of the real pie. Here I am, dreaming of tiny little chocolate bites, when He wants to give me the entire king-sized giant chocolate bar! Oh– and then some.

These imaginings of mine? Small and puny and not good for me, when He’s thinking more. Why do I think these tiny pieces of sweets  are really it, are really enough, are really the good things He has for me? Why do I want to run and cower from bites of hardship? Because even those hold a blessing.

My God? He’s thinking beyond where my little brain can even think or imagine. He IS more than my mind can fathom.

He is beyond my expectations of love, mercy, kindness, justice, goodness. He loves me more than I deserve, gives me Himself, on a cross. He goes above and BEYOND and even further.

How can I respond? It is beyond my ability to show my thanks, what this means.

Words fail, but He takes what I have to offer, all of me, and works in spite of me, and goes beyond this human wreckage.

His love? Crazy and beyond.

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I love Fridays, and one of my favorite things about Fridays is the Five Minute Friday prompt at Lisa-Jo’s. Come join in, won’t you?

The Ride (a comedy of errors)

I didn’t notice until it was too late.

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It happened last year. My son and I had flown to Alabama to visit family (after my father had a mild heart attack), and he and I needed a ride to the Birmingham airport. From Birmingham, we would fly to Atlanta, and change planes to head back to Milwaukee.

A friend of a friend very graciously offered us a ride to the airport. They made all the arrangements, and we were simply told to be ready on time to go, which was great. I was very thankful– no worries about a ride to the airport!

The friends arrived on time, and we all piled in the car and headed on our way. We had been enjoying a very nice conversation, my son and I in the back seat, the couple in the front seat.

About an hour into the ride, I notice a sign that says we are nearing the Georgia border.

I gasp. Georgia? Georgia?!!

But– Birmingham is in Alabama! In the opposite direction!

Up until that moment, I had been oblivious to my surroundings, to the drive, to road signs-hadn’t even given it a second thought. “I have a ride,” I thought. Nothing else occurred to me, except that I had a ride to get to the airport.

At the Georgia border, I take a deep breath and  ask, “Are we really in Georgia?”

Gasp.

My friends in the front seat nod cheerfully.  ”Yes, we’re almost there!”

“But– but– my flight is out of Birmingham!” I say, shocked.

They are surprised, thinking that Atlanta has always been my destination.

“No, we heard your flight was out of Atlanta.”

“No, I’m flying out of Birmingham. I’m changing planes in Atlanta, not flying OUT of Atlanta!”

We stop at the Georgia Welcome Center rest stop for a break. I check the clock, look at the mileage, and think.

I had made an assumption, and so had they. They thought I was going to Atlanta, and I thought we were heading to Birmingham.

A miscommunication must have occurred between the two parties who spoke, and I never did figure out how, but it doesn’t matter. The comical thing about this is that I didn’t think to confirm the destination with my driving companions, and they had not thought to ask me. We all simply “assumed” we were all on the same page, heading to the same place. In one car.

(Comical, really! Very, very comical and embarrassing… It IS funny… ahem.)

At this point, I realize it is too late to turn around and go back to Birmingham– we will surely miss the flight if we try to do that. So I decide that we have no choice but to continue on the journey to Atlanta, I’m supposed to change planes there anyway, so I figure this might be my best bet– get on the plane I’m supposed to catch out of Atlanta. To me, this makes perfect sense.

I immediately call the airlines to let them know we are missing our flight out of Birmingham, but that we will be able to make the second leg of the journey from Atlanta.

Well, it’s not so simple from their end, and this does not make sense to them. The airlines say I’m making a complete flight change– almost like a new booking! It was only after a very long phone call, and explanations, discussions, etc., I work things out with the airline, but not so easily, and with a lovely fee for the “change”. A “change”, however, is still better than two new tickets. A few tears roll down my cheeks. The tickets were already originally costly, since we had to buy them on the spur of the moment because of the medical emergency. But there was nothing more I could do.

The drivers are most apologetic, and so am I…  it was all an honest mistake. No one blames the other.

But I learned. You need to ask the driver where you are going. Don’t assume.

Now, of course, this entire episode makes for a very funny story. And– a good metaphor, for a person’s life, don’t you think?

To ask– who’s driving? Who’s driving my car?

Me? Others? Others’ expectations? My fears? Traditions?

If anyone, or anything, besides God is steering that vehicle, it’s time to pull over and stop, and let Him take over the wheel. Or else, you’ll find yourself out of gas very quickly. Or in a place you never intended to be.

When we arrive safe and sound back in Milwaukee, I phone my parents. My father still has his wits about him and his sense of humor, even as he recovers from the stent procedure, and can’t resist a little joke:

“So, where are you? New York?  Los Angeles?” he asks.

Ha, ha, ha.

They heard about the debacle even before I had a chance to tell them, and enjoyed a nice little joke.

Glad I could oblige.

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Sharing with sweet folks: Laura at The Wellspring, L.L. Barkat at Seedlings in Stone, Jen at Finding Heaven and Jennifer at Getting Down with Jesus