Rescued

A couple of weeks ago we came home and found this guy hanging out on our back door. We left him alone and let him be. Anyone, or anything for that matter, saying prayers over my house seemed like a good idea.
Yesterday afternoon, when I walked in the house, this is the scene I saw at the same back door:

It scared me at first because I thought it was some kind of reptile. I am not friends with the reptiles. At all (Thanks, Eve). We frequently have little skinks running around, but Marbles the Cat usually takes care of them before they get too big. I thought this was one of those icky things and it was enormous. Since I was home alone, a small panic attack ensued.

After a little closer inspection, I saw that it was more rodent than reptile. A little baby squirrel. I was relieved somewhat that it didn't have scales, but the relief didn't last long because I had no idea what to do with a little furry thing either.

I opened the glass door to take a closer look, thinking the noise and movement would scare the poor thing enough to make it run away. He didn't move. He just clung to the screen door.

Still on the other side of the screen door, I tried to get a closer look. There were flies buzzing all around him. There was no movement in him. That led me to believe he was dearly departed. I had no idea how in the world a dead squirrel could be hanging on to my screen door. Looking closer still, I saw his little chest move up and down. He was breathing.

Well, what do I do now?

After shedding some tears over the demise of this little thing, I donned some rubber gloves, gathered up a towel and a shoe box and went outside.

I exited the house from the front door and walked around to the back yard. Along the way, I saw one of his siblings on the ground. Motionless. Gone. I'll spare you the gory details about that one but let's just say I didn't have to get very close to that one to tell if he was alive or dead because, um, there were some parts of him missing.

A few steps further and there was another one. She was gone too. She still had all her parts, but the ants had taken control.

Finally to my little friend clinging to the screen door.

I took that picture before I got too close. I didn't realize he had a yellow jacket on his head until then. Poor thing. His right arm and leg had been sliced open and his head had also taken a beating, but he was still hanging on.

So far, Marbles remains mum. No confession yet.

I wrapped him in the towel. I sat down holding him in the towel. I thought he would expire soon, so I just waited. I was thinking about putting him along with both his siblings in the same hole in the ground.
Then I started thinking about everything but the squirrels just to get my mind off of it. I sat there waiting for Squirt (yes, I gave him a name) to leave this world, I talked to God about families around me; one has a newborn infant in the hospital trying to fight his way into this world; one has a barely older than teenage daughter that just made it through a double lung transplant and is fighting to stay in the world; one is a mother my age that just started chemo, again. I think she's living like she's preparing for eternity.

Life is precious. Life is hard. We need some help. We need someone to wrap us in a towel and just hold us; to hold us until we find a way to make in this world or until we find the way to make it out.

Squirt? Well, his breathing never slowed. At first when I held him in that towel he didn't move. The longer I held him the more comfortable he became. Slowly he came back to life.

When Scott got home he called the vet for advice. Squirt was alive but too weak to be just left outside. You'll be happy to know that we loaded Squirt up in the shoe box that I thought would be his casket and delivered him to an emergency vet clinic that rescues wildlife. They were very happy to have him there. And so were we.

Oh, and this other guy was out there again, too. Just above the door where little Squirt was hanging on.

Pray. Rescue the perishing. You'll be rescued yourself.

If you fall to pieces in a crisis, there wasn't much to you in the first place. Rescue the perishing; don't hesitate to step in and help. If you say, "Hey, that's none of my business," will that get you off the hook? Someone is watching you closely, you know - Someone not impressed with weak excuses. Proverbs 24:10-12

The Emperor's Expectorant

Some people are visionaries. They are able to see things the way they hope and dream for them to become. They are the ones that are goal setters and star reachers. “To dream the impossible dream….”

Some people are idealists. They see things from an absolute perfection perspective. They are the ones that know all the rules and proper procedures and are usually pretty good instructors in such methods. “If you do it this exactly like this, then this will be the positive result….”

While both types are quite admirable, I am not either one. I may have attempted to be them a time or two, but I have a hard time seeing anything other than stark reality. “The Emperor is not wearing any clothes…”

Yes, I have hopes and dreams and a few ideals, but the reality I see far outshines anything else. Funny thing, though. With hindsight sometimes it becomes obvious that the realist in me had a clearer picture of the future that my future-minded friends. Often, if you take a good look at the way things really, truly are, it is not difficult to see where they are going.

In looking ahead and trying to face the future, there has been one word that always gets thrown at me. It’s happened all of my life. I’ve written about it before because, well, it just keeps coming up. (Here’s what I wrote about the last time I got the reminder.)

The word: EXPECTATION

The realist in me has eliminated the need for a lot of expectations. Again, I do have hopes and dreams. I just don’t tie my entire future to them and I can still find peace and satisfaction even if they never come to fruition. When and if they ever become a reality, then I’m all the more blessed and thankful. Mostly I’ve learned not to have great expectations for other people. Especially those close to me. It makes me love them all the more when they actually do something that I hoped they would do, but didn’t bank my happiness on it.

What I’m dealing with right now is, however, other people’s expectations; those other people being the visionaries and idealists living in my world. They have such great expectations of me.

I want to tell those people a few things….

First of all, thank you. Thank you for your vote of confidence. Thank you for thinking that I can be better than I am. Thank you for thinking that I am capable and talented enough to achieve all that you envision. Thank you for setting your standards high.

Secondly, I’m sorry. I have failed you. I am sorry that I have let you down. I have tried, but I have not been able to live up to your expectations. Your absolute need to see me accomplish what you’ve prioritized is only filling your life with strife and disappointment. The anger that you have over what you see as my failure is killing you, not me.

You set those priorities, not me.

Yes, I have failed. But my failure is in trying to please you and not my Creator.

Yes, I am at fault. I’ve stepped over the fault line several times and have accumulated a great big pile of rubble all on my own, even without your expectations. I have more guilt that I can carry.

But my faults are not your fault. They have nothing to do with you.

As much as I might want to be, I am not responsible for your expectations. Only you can control that.

I hope that you will keep reaching for the stars and showing others the proper procedures because you will be an inspiration to someone else along the way.

But please, release me. Let me go.

You will be the one that ends up with the true freedom.

Of course, I have no expectations about what you’ll do.

I’ll just wait to be surprised and blessed by even more than I could have hoped for.

Amazing Grace will always be my song of praise.
For it was grace, that brought me liberty,
I do not know, just why He came to love me so.
He looked beyond my faults and saw my need.

I shall forever lift mine eyes to Calvary,
To view the cross, where Jesus died for me
How marvelous, His grace that caught my falling soul
He Looked beyond my faults and saw my
need.
-Dottie Rambo

They even did more than we had hoped, for their first action was to give themselves to the Lord and to us, just as God wanted them to do. 2 Corinthians 8:5

Getting Ready

I went to visit my parents this past weekend. They live a little over 3 hours south of here. It was not really a spontaneous trip, but sort of. I’ve been trying to find some time to make the trip, but little obstacles either at my house or theirs kept me from it. When I saw a small window of opportunity last week, I decided I better take it.

I had been thinking about it but had not really made any actual preparations to go, or be gone. Once I crossed the bridge from thinking about it to actually doing it, I rapidly started making that mental list of tasks I needed to complete before I got on the road.

I was going to make the trip by myself because Scott was already committed to some things here. I wasn’t going to be gone long, but it did involve packing an overnight bag. I needed something to sleep in, something to wear the next day, and as always, two extra pairs of underwear just in case.

Then there are all the bathroom products. We don’t travel that much anymore, so we don’t really keep a separate stash of that stuff in miniature sizes. At home, Scott and I share the same tube of toothpaste, bar of soap, bottle of shampoo, hair dryer, and a few other health and beauty products. Before I left, I had to make sure I had everything I would need packed in my bag while still leaving Scott with everything he would need. He’s very discerning man and is particular about his grooming needs. And trust me; you really wouldn’t want to see him without the benefits of shampoo and a blow dryer.

It required a trip to Wal-Mart.

Then there’s all the media. Was the battery on my iPod fully charged? Do I have any minutes on the pre-paid phone I use just for things like this? Don’t forget to put my Bible in my bag along with the book I’m currently reading. Oh, and the GPS.

I also couldn’t forget the little cooler for my snacks and Coke Zeros (and for bringing Scott some Sonny’s BBQ on the way home).

There are some other things I always do around the house before I leave on any trip that lasts longer than 24 hours. It’s that thought of “what if something happens” that persuades me to do these things.

What if I have car trouble and end up having to stay longer than I planned?

What if a tree falls on my house (not a far-fetched notion in my neck of the woods!) while I’m gone and someone other than Scott has to go inside my house?

What if someone comes to visit Scott while I’m away? What if it’s someone that needs to spend the night?

It goes on and on.

So, in preparation and anticipation, I do things like empty all the trash cans in the house and take the bags out to the bin outside.

I made a pitcher of tea and put it in the refrigerator. Just in case. While I didn’t do it this time, I usually throw out all the leftover food in the fridge.

I tried to get all the laundry done and put away. If something happened to me, I wouldn’t want Scott to have to deal with it without a stack of clean underwear and hankies in his dresser drawer.

I cleaned the toilets.

Once I finished at home, I had to go to the office and do the same thing. Check all the emails and voice mails and respond appropriately. I had to clean off my desk, put all the pending stuff in one stack each labeled with an instructional sticky note (as a reminder to myself when I got back, if nothing else!), and then file everything else where it belongs. I mean, what if something happened to me and someone else had to some in, sit at my desk and do my job? It would be difficult enough without my efforts in trying to make it easier for them.

I had to call my parents and tell them I was coming and approximately what time I would arrive. I had to call my sisters and tell them too.

I stopped by Scott’s office to give him a hug and kiss and tell him I love him, then I drove through Sonic to get a Route 44 iced tea for the road.

I did as much as I could and finally got on the road to see my parents.

My Dad is currently undergoing chemotherapy. He’s halfway through the treatments. When he gets the second half behind him he’ll have radiation to deal with. I’ve never had chemo, but I know it’s hard, especially if you’re 86 years old. The doctors have said that the type of cancer he has is treatable and curable. They did not say the treatment would be easy. I guess it’s what they don’t say that is always the hardest to understand.

He is a survivor of a heart attack, open heart surgery, surgeries for other types of cancers, WWII, three daughters, 50+ years of marriage, and who knows what else. He has always been the kind of person that once he sets his mind on something, there is not much that can change his mind or dissuade him from pressing on. He told me that this chemo has been one of the hardest things he’s ever done.

I tried to remind him that this was only temporary. There is an end to it. I tried to help them experience less stress and more hope.

There wasn’t much else I could do, or that they would let me do for them.

On the 3-hour drive back home, it’s all I could think about. It’s only temporary.

I empty trash cans. I make pitchers of tea. I buy extra toothpaste and pre-paid phone cards. I leave instructional sticky notes on yet-to-be-done stacks. I kiss my husband. I visit my parents. Falling trees. Unexpected guests. Car trouble. Cancer. Chemo. Memories.

All temporary. There is nothing in this world that I can prepare for that is not temporary.

But that “what if” question still burns in my heart. That “what if” won’t let me get out of the state of preparation. I have to keep trying to help the people and things around me get ready, but not for anything in this world.

One day there will be no more temporary anything. Falling trees and car trouble and cancer and dirty laundry and all the things I’ve left undone – they will all be gone.

Eternity is permanent. Forever and ever to infinity and beyond.

All the more reason to prepare.

"Do not fear what they fear; do not be frightened." But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. 1Peter 3:14-15

Why do children have to die?

The past weekend Scott and I went to the upstate to visit with Scott's dad, my father-in-law. We call him Pop. Scott's sister was there too. Sunday was the 2-year anniversary of my mother-in-law's death and Pop wanted his family to be together on that day. Pop wanted Scott to sing in his church on Sunday the song Scott sang at her funeral.

My mother-in-law was on hospice care for nine months before her death, so there was a lot of time to think about her funeral service. Nobody actually did much talking about it, but everyone was thinking about it, and I think everyone must have been thinking something different. Pop was absolutely sure he wanted Scott to sing. Scott was absolutely sure that he would never make it through trying to sing at his mom's funeral without losing it. Scott spent all of those nine months telling me so.

When my mother in law did finally leave us for heaven, not only was Scott grieved, he was also a nervous wreck about the whole singing or not singing business. Pop has always been stubbornly persuasive with Scott. In the end Scott decided it was easier to say yes and struggle through it for Pop than to say no for his own personal relief.

During the funeral and with his agreement beforehand, I spent every minute up until it was time for Scott to sing trying to distract him from what was going on in the service. I guess a better way to say that is that I was trying to help him keep his focus on nothing but singing to help prevent him from losing it. When the time finally came and he got up to sing, a voice came out of him that I had never heard before. And it was beautiful. Scott made the sacrifice and let himself be used of God to bless others. I'm convinced that it was the voice of the Holy Spirit that I heard that day.

So, here we are two years later. Scott did sing that same song in his dad's church on Sunday. Lois was the reason we were all together that day and she was definitely missed, but it was a little easier to celebrate her life this time.

Later that afternoon as we got ready to leave Pop's house to head back home, another funeral procession was underway. Pop's house is right across the street from the cemetery so standing in the driveway, we had front row seats.

We had to wait for the procession to drive by before we could get out on the road. It was unlike anything I've ever seen before. It was Heather Brooke Center's funeral. She was a 8-year old little girl who was shot four times by the estranged husband of her father's girlfriend. It is a sad, sad story (you can read about it here). None of us know the family, but it didn't matter. We were still moved by what we saw.

There were hundreds and hundreds of motorcycles in the processional. One motorcycle even pulled the casket behind it in a carriage. I'm willing to bet that most of those riders didn't know the child either, but they wanted to pay tribute to this special situation.


Scott, who has sung for countless funerals for people ranging from those he didn't even know to his own mother, said, "but it's different when it's a child."

I stood there on the driveway in the sweltering heat. I had a napkin in my hand that I had been using to wipe perspiration off my face. As the cyclists drove by, a time or two I found myself waving my paper hankie at them before I realized what I was doing. Then, I was wiping the tears from my eyes with it. Again, I didn't know the child or anyone in her family.

But it's different when it's a child.

I have two good friends that are close to my age. They don't know each other because they live in different cities and are from different times in my life, but they have something in common besides having me as a friend. Both of these women lost sons to cancer before they ever reached double digits in age. I know that the death of those little boys changed their lives completely and forever.

I never knew Blake or Tyler either. (The anniversary of Tyler's death is this week too.) I didn't meet their moms until after they were gone.

I don't know how Ron & Cindy and Linda & Bobo have managed to beat the odds and stay married in spite of how difficult it must have been.

I don't know how they managed to continue to raise little girls after that, teaching them to love a brother they never really knew.

I just don't know. As I sit here and think about it I just can't imagine what it must be like.

Then I hear a voice in my heart and maybe I understand a little better.

"It's different when it's My child."

And I know it's the voice of God.

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

I've been expecting you - - or not

A lot of years ago I had a young friend who was struggling in a young marriage. I wasn’t that much older than she or that much more experienced at the time, but I did offer her one piece of wisdom I had already struggled over and come to terms with myself.

She expected her husband and her marriage to be a certain way, and neither was living up to it. I told her to eliminate her expectations. Not lower them; forget them. Put away the measuring stick for a while. If you are not measuring to see how someone or something compares to your personal standard, then the likelihood of disappointment is decreased.

If you constantly compare something/someone with where it actually is to where you think it should be, all you will ever see is the gap in between. Sometimes it helps to just see things and people as they really are without any surrounding, calculating comparisons. Try to see them like God sees them.

Now I know that God looks at all of us and sees the potential of who we could be. I also believe that we should do that with each other. Where I think we get into trouble is when we start assigning markers to the steps of someone else’s potential. Like saying, “isn’t he old enough to know better?” Or, “doesn’t she know she shouldn’t be doing that?”(And, for the record, I’m talking about adults here. Not children.)

When we set those markers, we’ve imposed our expectations on them. It’s one thing to want and hope and pray that things and people will turn out to be what we want them to be. It’s a completely different animal when we transfer the sole responsibility of living up to our expectations on to them and then punish them when they don’t.

Last time I checked, the convicting and refining work of the Holy Spirit was not my job.

So, why am I thinking about all of this?

Recently I was told by someone that I didn’t live up to the expectations and standards they had for me. It was not in my marriage. It was at church. I was shocked by the confrontation. It was…unexpected. I had no idea that such standards had been placed on me.

My reaction? Of course I was hurt. I thought I was striving to lead a Godly life. I regretted that anything I said or did unintentionally caused someone else to become so angry and confrontational. Honestly, it felt more like they were disapproving of who I was rather than of anything I had said or done. I felt unjustly condemned.

Then, I began to think…the one who confronted me should not have handled it in the way that he did. I thought about all the different ways that whole situation should have been approached. Someone in his position should have taken into consideration…

Ahhhh, there it is. He’s not living up to my expectations either.

So.

I’m throwing out my measuring stick. The gap is gone. My expectations are gone. I’m looking to see more clearly what God sees.

Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Matthew 7:1-2

I remember

My dad celebrated his 86th birthday this past Monday. He was born in 1923. It was the roaring twenties. It was a time when life in the United States began to return to normal in the wake of World War I.

He would have been starting school the year the Stock Market crashed in 1929 and the onset of the Great Depression.

He was 16 when World War II broke out. He eventually joined the Navy and that War. He was 21 when he floated on a watercraft in the English Channel on D-Day.

Warren G. Harding was President of the United States the day my dad was born. Calvin Coolidge got the job a little later that same year. Dad has lived to see 14 more Presidents get elected since then.

He was in his late 30’s when he lost one and a half fingers in a lawn mower accident.

I don’t remember any of that.

What I do remember is that he used to smoke a pipe. That is, until he had a heart attack at 53. He missed my sister’s high school graduation because he was in the hospital recovering from that heart attack. He also missed that same sister’s wedding six years later when he was in the hospital recovering from prostate cancer surgery. Four (or is it 5? I can’t remember now!) Years ago, he and my mom sold our old homestead in Florida and moved to Georgia to be close to that sister.

He was in his sixties when he had open heart surgery.

He was able to be there for my high school and college graduations and to walk me down the aisle at my wedding.

Both of my sisters and I were able to be there for his birthday party this past Monday. It’s not often that our immediate family all gets to be together, but it certainly is interesting when we do. We talked about memories of growing up together. It’s funny how totally differently we each remember the same incident. And how prominent one memory is for one of us and for others there is absolutely no recollection of it at all.

And we each have our favorite memories; stories that we repeat over and over every time we get together.

My brother-in-law always tells the story about me crying when he and my sister told me they were getting married. I was in the back seat of my sister’s car; they were in the front seat. It was the first time I had ever met him. I remember the tears, but certainly not for the same reason he remembers them.

Sister #1 always tells on Sister #2. When Sister#2 was about 3 or 4 years old, she sensed my mom was in peril because the car was out of gas. She wanted to help out so she took the water hose and filled the gas tank up. With water. I don’t really remember that one, but I believe it.

My Dad tells a story about me of which I have absolutely no recollection. Apparently there was some concert I was dying to go to and he agreed to take me. I had some sort of hissy fit in the car on the way there because an accident had traffic at a standstill and threatened my actual attendance at the concert. Apparently we did make it to the concert without my dad having to take me to the hospital. I don’t remember that at all. I don’t even remember who was playing at the auditorium.

My oldest sister graduated from high school the same year I finished the third grade. She went off to college, and then got married right after that. I only have a couple of memories of her being at home when I was young. We both remember one summer she was home from college. It was just her and I at home during the day. She had the ironing board set up in the living room and was working diligently on all the wrinkled clothes. I had had the hiccups all morning. When I totally was NOT expecting it, she finally screamed at me and scared me so badly that I no longer had the hiccups, but then we both couldn’t stop laughing about it.

We don’t realize when they are happening that we are actually writing these stories. The fact that we each remember the same incidents so differently is proof to me of just how individual and different we all are; how we each are uniquely made by God and serve a very specific, individual purpose.

All the things I remember are the things that only I remember. While we may share some, no one else has exactly the same collection of memories. I realize that even more so when I think about what memories an 86 year old man might have. Some of them are things I can only read about in history books yet they are very personal for him. Given the course of his life and his time in history on this earth, he has so many memories. Some of them include me. And I thank God for that.

All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. Psalm 139:16

It's just a small thing, really...

A couple of months ago in a Bible study session we were talking about how our society and culture has a way of making sin acceptable. Little by little we become more accustomed to a accepting a behavior as normal that once was thought of as sinful. It’s not an overnight thing. It happens gradually, so much so that we don’t even realize it’s happening. Little by little we become numb to the fact that sin has crept in without us realizing it. Even when we read words in the Bible that remind us that God considers the behavior sin, we still offer explanations of “cultural relevancy” or say something like “this is the 21st Century” or this “this is not the dark ages anymore.”

At that same Bible study session, I shared with the women about my personal example of this. The organization I work for leases office space in a bank. There is shared kitchen in the building that is just down the hall from my office, right across from the women’s restroom. The main reason I go in that kitchen is because there is an ice maker in the refrigerator. Ice is free, renewable resource, right? Yeah, I thought you would agree.

Sometimes I would go down the hall with the restroom as my main goal. When I finish up in the restroom, I realize I have forgotten to bring my cup so that I can fill it up with ice from the kitchen (I have my own drinks in my office). Right there on the kitchen counter are plastic disposable cups with the bright red and blue bank logo printed on them. I whine about not wanting to make a trip back to my office to get my own personal cup, so I fill one of the bank logo cups with ice from the ice maker.

After a time or two of using those cups, I began to get convicted about the fact that those aren’t my cups. I began to see it at stealing. A couple of the women in my Bible study group laughed at me and told me I must not have anything to do at work if all I’m worried about is plastic cups.

I am grateful that the temptation put in front of me was only plastic cups. But where would it lead? If I took cups, am I not capable of taking the coffee pot? If I took the coffee pot, I could take the table and chairs next. Before you know it, I could be robbing the bank vault.

Bank robbers don’t wake up one day and suddenly become bank robbers. It starts long before that. It’s those little things that they get by with that leads them to believe they can get by with even more.

It’s the little things.

Focusing more on those little things has changed my perspective some, and not thy way I thought it would.

Earlier this week I felt like such a failure. There was no major crash and burn event. I didn’t rob a bank, I didn’t cheat on my husband, I didn’t get fired from my job.

It was a series of little things. I ate things that weren’t really on my diet (that is no longer a diet because I ate those things!). I put off making a phone call that I needed to make. I had a long range project at work that is not fun, so I didn’t work on it for a couple of days. It was just a couple of days without very much success in being faithful to the little things.

I was miserable. I just wanted to cry.

I went down the hall to the restroom and to get some ice from the kitchen. I then realized I had my own cup in my hand. I grabbed it without even thinking about it. A small victory for me, but an enormous one for God because in that moment I saw that God is trying to show me HIS absolute faithfulness in all the little things, not condemn me about mine and the lack thereof.

Oh, hallelujah.

Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. Luke 16:10

The countdown could take 9,125 days

I mentioned back on Election Day that I was reading Wild Goose Chase by Mark Batterson. The irony that day was standing in a long line waiting to vote and using the waiting time to read a book that described Abraham’s 9,125 day wait for God’s promise to be delivered to him.

Sometime later that week I got an email from Jimmy, a fellow I went to college with. I haven’t actually seen him in years. We keep up with each other infrequently, only trading emails every few months or so. He knows the general gist of our lives but not a lot of details. Same goes for what I know about his family. Being kindred spirits from way back, it doesn’t always take a lot of words to catch up.

When I emailed Jimmy back, I wrote, “Scott and I pray every day, several times a day, for God to move or move us. We've been praying that for years now. We're old and tired, and it shows. But we keep praying.”

I didn’t really explain to him why that was our prayer. I just knew he would know.

Jimmy read my Election Day blog post and replied, “You’ve got a lot of days left to pray, Abraham.”

Smarty pants. He’s right.

I felt like the message God was trying to get across to me was, “Sit back and enjoy the ride. This may take a while.”

Which is funny, because there was something else in the Wild Goose Chase book that I can’t get out of my head. I finished the book several days ago, but I’ve been back to reread one page over and over.

The whole book, in general, is about following the leadership of the Holy Spirit. The page (actually it’s just one paragraph) I keep rereading says that when the Holy Spirit leads, he does not take shortcuts. He always takes the scenic route because that is where we learn the most valuable lessons.

Ooo, I need to hear that again. The Holy Spirit does not take shortcuts. He always takes the scenic route.

You know, I have heard more people lately be more vocal about their belief that the end of days is near. They read the news and the see the current events and they say it’s getting closer.

Yes, I believe that were closer today than we ever have been to Jesus’ return. And we’ll be even closer tomorrow. I also think that Jesus’ return is the only way our earthy social, political, and moral problems will ever be resolved. I am not afraid. I will be relieved. Relieved that I will no longer have to pray, “How long, Oh Lord, how long?”

But as of today, as of this minute, I’m still here on this earth. As long as that is true, then I’m still on the scenic tour. There are still lessons to be learned. There are still prayers to be prayed. There are still lives to be changed. There are still people who need to be saved. He sees all of that and all the burdens that go with it more than I do.

So I wake up again and press on. Learning to enjoy the ride.

In His time. In His time.

Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. Lamentations 3: 21-23

The Idol in Me

I never have been a big fan of American Idol. I watch it every now and then, but I am not a regular viewer. I know the latest season just ended and a new idol was crowned. And I know the final two were both named David, but I never heard either one of them sing. What I know about it I learned by reading the internet news headlines. I usually end up reading the back story of the contestants after it’s all over.

I really like to watch the first couple of episodes in each season. The ones BEFORE they get to Hollywood. Those are the episodes that feature people who are trying to see just how much they can get away with, or, they are young people who really are trying to follow their dreams. The latter are the ones I love to watch.

It takes a lot of courage to actually pursue your dreams and I totally admire them for trying. I didn’t have that kind of courage when I was just beginning adult life. I had courage and strength alright, but I didn’t know how to use it for that purpose. As a result, it got all misplaced and I become a champion for things that had nothing to do with my dreams. I worked very hard at trying to find safety and security instead of stepping out into the unknown.

My relationships, my job, my church, they all become the things I sought out to protect me. Idols. Yes, idols, that’s what they were. Things that could do for me what I couldn’t do for myself. Or at least I thought so at the time.

What I’ve since learned it that none of that can give me what I really need. What I really need is to honestly pursue what God put in my heart by using the gifts and talents he gave me.

God bless those kids who learned that so early. I’m sorry, God, that’s it’s taken me so long, but hallelujah, I’m stepping out! Baby steps, but out!

Of what value is an idol, since a man has carved it? Or an image that teaches lies? For he who makes it trusts in his own creation; he makes idols that cannot speak.
Habakkuk 2:18

Two by two

This was the scene from our back yard this weekend. A pair of pileated woodpeckers. These birds are huge. Each one is about the size of one of Scott’s shoes. When they flew away, their wing span was at least 2 feet wide. These birds visit our back yard often. We hear them more often than we see them and their voices are as distinguishable as their visible presence.

They stayed together the entire time we were watching them Sunday afternoon. They cackled and chirped. One stayed near the crook in the tree, the other one hopped up the tree pecking and drilling. At one point they snipped their beaks back and forth together. I don’t know what that was all about, maybe they were feeding. Or kissing. Or just being fussy.

Later I Googled woodpeckers (how did you think I knew they were called pileated?!). Some of what I read stated that in this particular species, the male and female stay together year round for the purpose of protecting their territory.

I believe staying together is the way God intended it to be.

I know there are many instances in the Bible of men having multiple wives and even a woman having five husbands (although, maybe not all at the same time). But I can’t think of a single case where God instructed anything other than one husband or one wife. Yes, it happened, but it wasn’t at God’s command.

It’s not always easy. Sometimes the greater challenge in love is not having to live without them, it is learning to live with them. How do I do that? I remind myself that my husband has to live with me (and all my fiesta dishes, my books, my special order food, my early bedtime, my cold hands/feet/nose, my need for planning and processes, my, my, my…..)


“But I will establish my covenant with you, and you will enter the ark—you and your sons and your wife and your sons' wives with you. You are to bring into the ark two of all living creatures, male and female, to keep them alive with you. Two of every kind of bird, of every kind of animal and of every kind of creature that moves along the ground will come to you to be kept alive. You are to take every kind of food that is to be eaten and store it away as food for you and for them.” Noah did everything just as God commanded him. Genesis 6:18-22

Could you repeat that, please?

Have you ever had one of those days when every time you turn around, there IT is? One of those days when there’s reminder of whatever IT is everywhere you go? You begin to sense that someone’s trying to tell you something. There’s a message intended for you and you keep missing it, so it keeps getting thrown in your path.

I had one of those days recently, and the repercussions are still affecting me.

A week or so ago Scott bought a book that I promptly hijacked so I could read it first: Gripped by the Greatness of God by James MacDonald.

In the very first chapter the author wrote commentary on Isaiah 6:1-7, the scripture that says, "…and one called out to another and said, 'Holy, Holy, Holy, is the LORD of hosts, The whole earth is full of His glory' ”…

He said:

“God does not present His holiness as a horizontal prescription for human activity. God displays holiness as the central and defining essence of His character. I know some people think that God is defined by love, but I would beg differ. If love was at the very center of God’s nature, then He could have welcomed us into heaven without the atoning death of His Son, Jesus. Fact is, God’s holiness demanded that sin be paid for, and then His love compelled Him to pay the price Himself.”

I am often marked and stirred by other people’s words and this was no exception. I guess I have been one of those people who thought, or really just assumed, that what I had heard all my life was the absolute truth: God is love. After reading that first chapter, I began to see that, yes, that is true, but there is more.

As I always do when I read something that leads me to think a little differently, I have to percolate on it a while before I formulate how I really feel about it personally.

A couple of days went by as I continued to think about this holiness thing. I read a little further in the book. Several pages over from my previous reading, James MacDonald continued his description of Isaiah 6:3 saying:

“So these burning ones call back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, never ceasing: “Holy, Holy, Holy, is the Lord of hosts, the whole earth is full of His glory.”
“And this never stops. This praise never ceases. It goes on and on through countless eons of time. This brings to mind a well-known Bible teacher who recently visited our church and ridiculed modern worship (music) as a collection of repetitious ditties. How strange that such a good man would not be fond of something God not only appreciates but had ordained, namely the endless, changeless chorusing of a great single line of certainty. When the truth is significant, there is great power in repetition, especially if the subject is an attribute of God.”

That paragraph tickled my ears enough that I had to read it out loud to Scott. That was Tuesday night.

Wednesday morning I turn on the TV to Wednesdays with Beth Moore on Life Today (you can see that video for yourself here). She was teaching on the Almighty being the God who was, and is, and is to come. She read from Revelation 4: “Each of the four living creatures had six wings and was covered with eyes all around, even under his wings. Day and night they never stop saying: "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come."

There it was again. Holy, holy, holy. Even though it was two different scripture references, it was the same three words that had been at the top of my thoughts the last couple of days.

Later that day, I got in my car and turned on the CD player, streaming from my speakers was the contemporary worship song…

Holy, holy, holy,
Holy, holy, holy,
Holy is the lord, God Almighty.
Worthy to receive glory,
Worthy to receive honor,
Worthy to receive all our praise today.

Praise him, praise him and lift him up;
Praise him, exalt his name forever.
Praise him, praise him and lift him up;
Praise him, exalt his name forever.

Over and over they sang it.

I thought to myself, surely God must be trying to tell me something. He keeps putting this holy, holy, holy business in front of me, over and over and over again.

Later that evening when I got to choir practice and surveyed the table where the new music is laid out for us to pick up, there it was again. An arrangement of the traditional hymn ...

Holy, holy, holy,
Lord, God Almighty
Early in the morning my song shall rise to Thee….

Again with the holy, holy, holy. With all the repeated reminders of this repetitious phrase, surely there is something in it for me.

The holiness of God goes on and on. That's worth repeating.

OK, I get it now and I pray that’s one little ditty that I never get out of my head.

"Holy, holy, holy..." Revelation 4: 8 and Isaiah 6:3

Good News

Secrets of the Universe

When I started this blogging adventure a couple of months ago, one of the first persons to leave a comment was my college roommate, Lynne. In her comment she reminded me of something I had almost forgotten. It seems she remembers me as the Athena of the dorm. You know, the great goddess of wisdom. Well, OK, maybe not exactly like that, but it gave you a lovely visual, didn’t it?

A university campus is a thinking environment and you can get very philosophical living there. You think you know it all. I must have indeed thought that and was not afraid to share my “secrets of the universe.” That’s what Lynne remembered. There is no telling what kind of golden nuggets came out of my mouth back then. At least Lynne remembers it favorably. She truly is a good friend!

I think what was going on back then, although I probably didn't realize it at the time, was discernment. Discernment was in the top 4 on my Network spiritual gifts inventory (and maybe a post for another day). Maybe I did exhibit a little sagacity about our college lives. But, oh, dare I say it…if I’d only known then what I know now.

What I know now is that I don’t know anything. My keen insight and delicate discrimination show me that there is so much more to learn. With me, a lot of it starts with things I read. Below is a quote from a book I just finished. These words struck me as simple, yet profound. The concepts are pretty much straight from scripture, but putting them all together on the same page struck me.

"The Christian believes that in Christ he has died, yet he is more alive than before and he fully expects to live forever. He walks on earth while seated in heaven and though born on earth, he finds that after his conversion he is not at home here...That he may be safe he puts himself in jeopardy; he loses his life to save it and is in danger of losing it if he attempts to preserve it. He goes down to get up. If he refuses to go down he is already down, but when he starts down he is on his way up...He is strongest when he is weakest and weakest when he is strong. Though poor he has the power to make others rich, but when he becomes rich his ability to enrich others vanishes. He has most after he has given most away and has least when he possesses most...He may be and often is highest when he feels lowest and most sinless when he is most conscious of sin. He is wisest when he knows that he knows not and knows least when he has acquired the greatest amount of knowledge. He sometimes does most by doing nothing and goes further when standing still. In heaviness he manages to rejoice and keeps his heart glad even in sorrow...He fears God but is not afraid of Him. In God's presence he feels overwhelmed and undone, yet there is nowhere he would rather be than in that presence. He knows that he has been cleansed from his sin, yet he is painfully conscious that in his flesh dwells no good thing...He feels that he is in his own right altogether less than nothing, yet he believes without question that he is the apple of God's eye..."

Those are the words of A. W. Tozer in the book The Radical Cross, Living the Passion of Christ.

He told them, "The secret of the kingdom of God has been given to you."
Mark 4:11