This morning, as I watched a beautiful snowfall and talked to Jesus, I sensed a need to pray for those who will be celebrating Christmas without a loved one, especially those who are going through their first Christmas without that special person.
The snow prevented my daughter from making the trip to her dad's, as planned. That means, I will have all my children home for Christmas Eve. Well, not quite all; there is always one child missing. This will be the 22nd year without my oldest daughter, Alyssa.
Alyssa never grew beyond a baby. Just like Jesus, she came into the world a helpless babe. She was born in a sterile environment rather than a filthy manger, but she had the same destination as her Savior. They are celebrating Christmas in the heavens, together.
I still remember that first Christmas without her. It was all about the baby, just not the right one. My arms ached. I wanted to scoop baby Jesus out of every manger scene I saw and hold Him. It took several Christmases before I realized that was exactly what I needed to do. We often talk about Jesus holding us in His arms, but in my case, I needed to hold Him. To hold my Savior, Emmanuel, my Prince of Peace, in my arms and express my love and joy for Him.
Even if you've never known a loss like that, I pray you will scoop baby Jesus into your arms and love Him this Christmas. After all, it's all about The Baby.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
Popcorn memories
Recently, and for no good reason whatsoever, I found myself doing that thing that "older" people tend to do: reminiscing. And it all started over a bowl of popcorn.
"Do you know, when I was a kid, my mother used to make popcorn on the stove? In fact, she even had a 'popcorn pan'." (The camera pans to the blank stare on my daughter's face.) "Yeah, Mom, that's...interesting," she says. I went on to give her an entire history of the evolution of making popcorn. She was fascinated and hung on my every word. Not. :)
To this day, eating popcorn conjures up memories of high school basketball games and Disney's Sunday night movie. Isn't it funny how a food, or a smell, or a song can transport you back in time? I wonder what things will take my kids back to the "good 'ole days" when they are older.
What little things spark memories of your childhood?
"Do you know, when I was a kid, my mother used to make popcorn on the stove? In fact, she even had a 'popcorn pan'." (The camera pans to the blank stare on my daughter's face.) "Yeah, Mom, that's...interesting," she says. I went on to give her an entire history of the evolution of making popcorn. She was fascinated and hung on my every word. Not. :)
To this day, eating popcorn conjures up memories of high school basketball games and Disney's Sunday night movie. Isn't it funny how a food, or a smell, or a song can transport you back in time? I wonder what things will take my kids back to the "good 'ole days" when they are older.
What little things spark memories of your childhood?
Friday, November 19, 2010
Reconciling tragedy with praise
I know a woman who has endured some tragic circumstances in her life.
For the most part, her childhood was ideal. She grew up in a small town with married parents, three brothers and a sister. They didn't have a lot of money, but they always had enough. They went to church every Sunday, and God was very central in their family life.
At the age of 17, she survived a tornado while lying in a ditch at an amusement park. The twister went right over the park, causing a lot of damage in its path. This was not her first encounter with tornadoes, but she had never been outside in the middle of one. It was the first traumatic experience of her life.
She married at the age of 20 and had her first child just shy of her 22nd birthday. Three years later, her second child died at birth of unknown causes. Her first child was nearly attacked by a mental patient while recovering in the hospital from dehydration, and her third child nearly died from pneumonia. Her husband was diagnosed with epilepsy and suffered serious injuries after seizures brought on by being prescribed the wrong medication. All these medical issues led them into thousands of dollars in debt.
Seven months after losing her baby, her father (who was a pastor) announced he had been having an affair and left her mother after 41 years of marriage. She did all she could to help her mother through the shock and devastation, but her once-close family was never the same.
All of the stress took its toll on her marriage, and she divorced at the age of 28. She worked full-time and struggled to make ends meet for herself and her two children. Although she believed in God, she walked away from the church for a long time, feeling scorned by fellow believers because of her divorce.
Eventually, an old friendship turned into a flame, and she remarried. She had to move her children hundreds of miles away from their father, and the difficulty of visitation issues ensued. Blended families on both sides of the situation presented new challenges as well. Fortunately, she drew near to God and became part of a church family once again. Her faith became strong as she grew in knowledge and wisdom of the Lord.
A few years ago, her husband lost his job. During his time of unemployment, the woman's father was diagnosed with cancer and died six months later. She had forgiven her father and made peace with him, but that only deepened her loss. Over the next six months, her husband remained jobless, and she lost four additional family members who were close to her. Then, her beloved dog, just four years old, was diagnosed with terminal cancer and died a month later. It was a dark time for her spiritually and emotionally, and her faith was rocked to the core.
Not long after, her father-in-law began to fail in health. His life hung in the balance for many months. Many times, prayers were lifted and he recovered, but eventually God called him home. She felt as though she had lost another father.
I'm sure you've read accounts of other people's lives that were much more dramatic or tragic, but this one has special meaning for me because...well...the woman I wrote about IS me.
I'm sometimes shocked to look back on my life and realize all that I have endured. This time of year, we talk a lot about giving thanks. And it's true, I have a lot to be thankful for - far more than I could ever list in a blog post. Praise is the sister of thanksgiving, and that's where my heart is today.
When I was in the midst of a season of great loss, I meditated on Psalm 42 almost every day:
I say to God my Rock,
“Why have you forgotten me?
Why must I go about mourning,
oppressed by the enemy?”
My bones suffer mortal agony
as my foes taunt me,
saying to me all day long,
“Where is your God?”
Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.
I would read these words, emphasizing the word "will" as a choice to believe in God's faithfulness to me. It was a mental choice I had to make because everything within me felt to the contrary. I felt abandoned by God. Yet, the truth was I would not always feel that way, and I HAD to believe it, no matter how hard.
It's been a few years since that season. This summer, I found myself reflecting on all of this. I discovered I could see God's hand in so much of the pain I endured, but there were still some wounds that had not healed. I could see no purpose in them - nothing that made sense.
Then I heard a pastor speak about the Wedding Feast of the Lamb and how it relates to events in our lives that seem senseless. He reminded me of the new perspective I will have once in heaven: God's perspective. He quoted Revelation 15:3, where we (the saints) will sing, "Great and marvelous are your deeds, Lord God Almighty. Just and true are your ways." The pastor said, "You're going to say it then, you might as well say it now! Just and true are your ways, God!" In other words, praise. Choosing to praise what is true.
For some of the difficulty in my life, I'm already able to praise with all my being and feel truly thankful for enduring it. For the rest of it, I say, "I will yet praise Him, my Savior and my God."
For the most part, her childhood was ideal. She grew up in a small town with married parents, three brothers and a sister. They didn't have a lot of money, but they always had enough. They went to church every Sunday, and God was very central in their family life.
At the age of 17, she survived a tornado while lying in a ditch at an amusement park. The twister went right over the park, causing a lot of damage in its path. This was not her first encounter with tornadoes, but she had never been outside in the middle of one. It was the first traumatic experience of her life.
She married at the age of 20 and had her first child just shy of her 22nd birthday. Three years later, her second child died at birth of unknown causes. Her first child was nearly attacked by a mental patient while recovering in the hospital from dehydration, and her third child nearly died from pneumonia. Her husband was diagnosed with epilepsy and suffered serious injuries after seizures brought on by being prescribed the wrong medication. All these medical issues led them into thousands of dollars in debt.
Seven months after losing her baby, her father (who was a pastor) announced he had been having an affair and left her mother after 41 years of marriage. She did all she could to help her mother through the shock and devastation, but her once-close family was never the same.
All of the stress took its toll on her marriage, and she divorced at the age of 28. She worked full-time and struggled to make ends meet for herself and her two children. Although she believed in God, she walked away from the church for a long time, feeling scorned by fellow believers because of her divorce.
Eventually, an old friendship turned into a flame, and she remarried. She had to move her children hundreds of miles away from their father, and the difficulty of visitation issues ensued. Blended families on both sides of the situation presented new challenges as well. Fortunately, she drew near to God and became part of a church family once again. Her faith became strong as she grew in knowledge and wisdom of the Lord.
A few years ago, her husband lost his job. During his time of unemployment, the woman's father was diagnosed with cancer and died six months later. She had forgiven her father and made peace with him, but that only deepened her loss. Over the next six months, her husband remained jobless, and she lost four additional family members who were close to her. Then, her beloved dog, just four years old, was diagnosed with terminal cancer and died a month later. It was a dark time for her spiritually and emotionally, and her faith was rocked to the core.
Not long after, her father-in-law began to fail in health. His life hung in the balance for many months. Many times, prayers were lifted and he recovered, but eventually God called him home. She felt as though she had lost another father.
I'm sure you've read accounts of other people's lives that were much more dramatic or tragic, but this one has special meaning for me because...well...the woman I wrote about IS me.
I'm sometimes shocked to look back on my life and realize all that I have endured. This time of year, we talk a lot about giving thanks. And it's true, I have a lot to be thankful for - far more than I could ever list in a blog post. Praise is the sister of thanksgiving, and that's where my heart is today.
When I was in the midst of a season of great loss, I meditated on Psalm 42 almost every day:
I say to God my Rock,
“Why have you forgotten me?
Why must I go about mourning,
oppressed by the enemy?”
My bones suffer mortal agony
as my foes taunt me,
saying to me all day long,
“Where is your God?”
Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.
I would read these words, emphasizing the word "will" as a choice to believe in God's faithfulness to me. It was a mental choice I had to make because everything within me felt to the contrary. I felt abandoned by God. Yet, the truth was I would not always feel that way, and I HAD to believe it, no matter how hard.
It's been a few years since that season. This summer, I found myself reflecting on all of this. I discovered I could see God's hand in so much of the pain I endured, but there were still some wounds that had not healed. I could see no purpose in them - nothing that made sense.
Then I heard a pastor speak about the Wedding Feast of the Lamb and how it relates to events in our lives that seem senseless. He reminded me of the new perspective I will have once in heaven: God's perspective. He quoted Revelation 15:3, where we (the saints) will sing, "Great and marvelous are your deeds, Lord God Almighty. Just and true are your ways." The pastor said, "You're going to say it then, you might as well say it now! Just and true are your ways, God!" In other words, praise. Choosing to praise what is true.
For some of the difficulty in my life, I'm already able to praise with all my being and feel truly thankful for enduring it. For the rest of it, I say, "I will yet praise Him, my Savior and my God."
Monday, November 15, 2010
I am a social dork
It's official. I should not be allowed to talk to famous people. If you are my friend, please don't ever become famous because I won't be able to talk to you.
I don't know why, but anytime I meet someone of notoriety, especially someone I admire, I become a bashful, tongue-tied mess. If I know in advance I'm going to meet them, I plan elaborate speeches or witty remarks, which never escape my lips. I will inevitably say something lame like, "It's nice to meet you" or "I love your music."
Such was the case last night. My daughter Kelsey and I drove three hours one way to hear one of my favorite authors speak. Donald Miller's books have inspired and challenged me, and I was both hoping and dreading the opportunity to meet him.
A lot of writers express themselves better through their writing than in person. Obviously, this is certainly the case with me! Donald Miller is not like that. One of the reasons I like his writing is because it's like getting a letter from an old friend. His side of the conversation makes you feel like you've known each other for years. He speaks like he writes. He makes you feel comfortable, engaged, and welcome. I was so impressed, I wanted to ask him how he does that. That was going to be my big question if I got to meet him.
Speaking of being impressed, what kind of well-known person invites people to their home? Don Miller. Anyone donating $50/month or more to his charity for fatherless sons gets an invite to his home for an intimate gathering and house concert. It made me wonder how much money could be raised by other famous people doing the same thing. But it won't happen. Why? Most famous people would be worried about crazy people, stalkers and kleptomaniacs in their home! Don just honestly wants to know people and is genuinely interested in having meaningful conversations. You would think that would have made it easier for me to talk to him, right?
I wouldn't have met him at all if it weren't for Kelsey. She has some sort of built-in radar for finding artists after a show, and she is persistent. She was not leaving the venue last night without making every effort to find Mr. Miller, and she did it. There was a short line of people waiting to speak with him. While we were waiting, we came up with all kinds of clever things to say. Kelsey had been joking all night about a picture of him they kept putting up on the big screens, saying it looked like a cheesy Sears portrait. She planned to tease him about that, and then ask him to sign her book, letting him know she hasn't even read it yet. I planned to admit my social awkwardness and ask my question.
During the wait, I spotted one of the musical artists we saw that night, Robbie Seay. I've long been a fan of his band, and I mentioned to Kelsey that I really wanted to tell him how much one of his songs meant to me. She kept nudging me to do it, and I managed to blurt out a few words about the song. He was grateful for the encouragement and chatted with us for awhile. I began to think I could really do this...I might actually be able to have a conversation with someone I greatly admire.
Did I mention we were last in line? In other words, we could have talked with Don as long as he would stay. We introduced ourselves, and the only words that came out of my mouth were, "It's nice to meet you." Kelsey amazed me by asking him to sign her book, talked to him about the movie currently being made about his book "Blue Like Jazz", and asking for a picture. She kept giving me a look which said, "Say something!", but I couldn't do it. Don looked at us for a second as if to say, "OK, do you want to talk more?" Still, nothing came out of my mouth. He shook our hands a second time and thanked us for coming to the show, and off we went. *sigh*
As we talked about the experience on the way home, I told Kelsey I think the reason why I'm such a dork if because I'm really in awe of other people's talents. She replied, "Mom, you are around people of amazing talent all the time!" She's right. Even right in my own home, I'm surrounded by people with incredible gifts to create, direct, and influence. There are musicians at my church who are just as talented as the ones I heard last night. I have friends who constantly amaze me with spiritual insight, artistic abilities, and graceful parenting. All of these are just as deserving of my praise.
So, I'm sorry, Donald Miller. I guess you're not that special. :)
Somehow, I think Don will be OK with that.
I don't know why, but anytime I meet someone of notoriety, especially someone I admire, I become a bashful, tongue-tied mess. If I know in advance I'm going to meet them, I plan elaborate speeches or witty remarks, which never escape my lips. I will inevitably say something lame like, "It's nice to meet you" or "I love your music."
Such was the case last night. My daughter Kelsey and I drove three hours one way to hear one of my favorite authors speak. Donald Miller's books have inspired and challenged me, and I was both hoping and dreading the opportunity to meet him.
A lot of writers express themselves better through their writing than in person. Obviously, this is certainly the case with me! Donald Miller is not like that. One of the reasons I like his writing is because it's like getting a letter from an old friend. His side of the conversation makes you feel like you've known each other for years. He speaks like he writes. He makes you feel comfortable, engaged, and welcome. I was so impressed, I wanted to ask him how he does that. That was going to be my big question if I got to meet him.
Speaking of being impressed, what kind of well-known person invites people to their home? Don Miller. Anyone donating $50/month or more to his charity for fatherless sons gets an invite to his home for an intimate gathering and house concert. It made me wonder how much money could be raised by other famous people doing the same thing. But it won't happen. Why? Most famous people would be worried about crazy people, stalkers and kleptomaniacs in their home! Don just honestly wants to know people and is genuinely interested in having meaningful conversations. You would think that would have made it easier for me to talk to him, right?
I wouldn't have met him at all if it weren't for Kelsey. She has some sort of built-in radar for finding artists after a show, and she is persistent. She was not leaving the venue last night without making every effort to find Mr. Miller, and she did it. There was a short line of people waiting to speak with him. While we were waiting, we came up with all kinds of clever things to say. Kelsey had been joking all night about a picture of him they kept putting up on the big screens, saying it looked like a cheesy Sears portrait. She planned to tease him about that, and then ask him to sign her book, letting him know she hasn't even read it yet. I planned to admit my social awkwardness and ask my question.
During the wait, I spotted one of the musical artists we saw that night, Robbie Seay. I've long been a fan of his band, and I mentioned to Kelsey that I really wanted to tell him how much one of his songs meant to me. She kept nudging me to do it, and I managed to blurt out a few words about the song. He was grateful for the encouragement and chatted with us for awhile. I began to think I could really do this...I might actually be able to have a conversation with someone I greatly admire.
Did I mention we were last in line? In other words, we could have talked with Don as long as he would stay. We introduced ourselves, and the only words that came out of my mouth were, "It's nice to meet you." Kelsey amazed me by asking him to sign her book, talked to him about the movie currently being made about his book "Blue Like Jazz", and asking for a picture. She kept giving me a look which said, "Say something!", but I couldn't do it. Don looked at us for a second as if to say, "OK, do you want to talk more?" Still, nothing came out of my mouth. He shook our hands a second time and thanked us for coming to the show, and off we went. *sigh*
As we talked about the experience on the way home, I told Kelsey I think the reason why I'm such a dork if because I'm really in awe of other people's talents. She replied, "Mom, you are around people of amazing talent all the time!" She's right. Even right in my own home, I'm surrounded by people with incredible gifts to create, direct, and influence. There are musicians at my church who are just as talented as the ones I heard last night. I have friends who constantly amaze me with spiritual insight, artistic abilities, and graceful parenting. All of these are just as deserving of my praise.
So, I'm sorry, Donald Miller. I guess you're not that special. :)
Somehow, I think Don will be OK with that.
Monday, November 01, 2010
Making a difference or just making an appearance?
Last Thursday, we traveled to Green Bay for the "Make A Difference" tour, featuring Toby Mac, Third Day, Michael W. Smith, and Max Lucado. I had purchased the tickets back in June as a birthday gift for my mother and an anniversary gift for my husband. Mom is a huge Michael W. Smith fan, and I've taken her to a few other concerts, including one with the opportunity to meet Michael in person. Third Day is one of the few bands Dan enjoys seeing in concert, mainly because it is always a great worship experience.
So, I even paid a little extra for VIP tickets, which included a question-and-answer time with the artists, as well as excellent seats (third row, just left of center stage). The Q & A time turned out to be a bit disappointing, as we were not even allowed to shake hands with them. It was basically a bunch of people shoved in a room, gawking at the artists. The questions were even censored and/or rewritten by the emcee, so it was fairly impersonal.
As I was sitting there feeling a little disappointed, it occurred to me that the whole point of this tour was to help the poor. The tour was sponsored by World Vision, and it was intended to make us rich, lazy Americans passionate about the disenfranchised around the world, particularly children. The lady sitting next my mother said she had been to every one of these shows, which were all over the country. I'm glad she was supporting the tour, but I had to wonder if she could have made a bigger impact by staying home and writing World Vision a check for the amount of her travel expenses!
Then I thought, "OK, Lisa...what about you?" I love going to concerts and hearing bands and speakers who inspire me. That's all well and good, as long as I'm not just continually soaking up, like a sponge, but never pouring it back out into the lives of others. I looked around that room and had a sense that most of these people were either strictly "soakers" or just avid fans practicing celebrity worship. I don't want to be either one of those things.
I wonder how many of us truly want to make a difference but end up only making an appearance. It's the same thing on Sunday morning. Lots of people show up for church and receive the Lord's teaching, presence and communion, but how many empty themselves by giving to others throughout the week? Let's face it, we are all pretty self-absorbed. Well, I know I am anyway.
We headed into the arena for the concert. I looked around and discovered the majority of the crowd was people my age or a little bit older. Yep, we are the people with the money, the resources...and I thought, "Here we sit!" Soak, soak, soak.
This revelation hit me even harder yesterday morning, as our pastor issued a challenge to our young people to be like Noah to their generation: righteous, blameless, walking faithfully with God by doing everything He commands us to do. The challenge was issued to the congregation in whole, but he called out those 25 and under in particular because they are living in a time of increasing evil, just as Noah did.
The question was posed: "What is God commanding you to do?" I know for certain God is commanding me to be an example. If MY generation doesn't lead the way, it will be a lot harder for those young people. There's nothing inherently wrong with soaking, but it must always be followed by squeezing into the lives of others. Then, when we are emptied, we can soak more good stuff up again.
The past few days have filled me up. Time to pour it back out. Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.
*******************************************************************************
P.S. As for the concert, it was a great night. So many talented musicians in all the bands, using their gifts to worship the Lord. In particular, I would note Toby Mac's bass player, Third Day's keyboardist (with the biggest mitts I've ever seen to play to prolifically), and MWS's guitarist. Mom had never heard Toby Mac or Third Day before, and she ended up becoming a fan of both. This is funny because A) she is 81 years old and B) it was VERY loud! You could feel the bass vibrating through your body! She thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it, even if it took a few days to get her hearing back. I understand Max gave a great sermon as well (I missed it), and 173 children were sponsored for World Vision. My only musical disappointment was the absence of Michael W. Smith's signature piano. He played keyboard and guitar. It was still good though! :)
So, I even paid a little extra for VIP tickets, which included a question-and-answer time with the artists, as well as excellent seats (third row, just left of center stage). The Q & A time turned out to be a bit disappointing, as we were not even allowed to shake hands with them. It was basically a bunch of people shoved in a room, gawking at the artists. The questions were even censored and/or rewritten by the emcee, so it was fairly impersonal.
As I was sitting there feeling a little disappointed, it occurred to me that the whole point of this tour was to help the poor. The tour was sponsored by World Vision, and it was intended to make us rich, lazy Americans passionate about the disenfranchised around the world, particularly children. The lady sitting next my mother said she had been to every one of these shows, which were all over the country. I'm glad she was supporting the tour, but I had to wonder if she could have made a bigger impact by staying home and writing World Vision a check for the amount of her travel expenses!
Then I thought, "OK, Lisa...what about you?" I love going to concerts and hearing bands and speakers who inspire me. That's all well and good, as long as I'm not just continually soaking up, like a sponge, but never pouring it back out into the lives of others. I looked around that room and had a sense that most of these people were either strictly "soakers" or just avid fans practicing celebrity worship. I don't want to be either one of those things.
I wonder how many of us truly want to make a difference but end up only making an appearance. It's the same thing on Sunday morning. Lots of people show up for church and receive the Lord's teaching, presence and communion, but how many empty themselves by giving to others throughout the week? Let's face it, we are all pretty self-absorbed. Well, I know I am anyway.
We headed into the arena for the concert. I looked around and discovered the majority of the crowd was people my age or a little bit older. Yep, we are the people with the money, the resources...and I thought, "Here we sit!" Soak, soak, soak.
This revelation hit me even harder yesterday morning, as our pastor issued a challenge to our young people to be like Noah to their generation: righteous, blameless, walking faithfully with God by doing everything He commands us to do. The challenge was issued to the congregation in whole, but he called out those 25 and under in particular because they are living in a time of increasing evil, just as Noah did.
The question was posed: "What is God commanding you to do?" I know for certain God is commanding me to be an example. If MY generation doesn't lead the way, it will be a lot harder for those young people. There's nothing inherently wrong with soaking, but it must always be followed by squeezing into the lives of others. Then, when we are emptied, we can soak more good stuff up again.
The past few days have filled me up. Time to pour it back out. Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.
*******************************************************************************
P.S. As for the concert, it was a great night. So many talented musicians in all the bands, using their gifts to worship the Lord. In particular, I would note Toby Mac's bass player, Third Day's keyboardist (with the biggest mitts I've ever seen to play to prolifically), and MWS's guitarist. Mom had never heard Toby Mac or Third Day before, and she ended up becoming a fan of both. This is funny because A) she is 81 years old and B) it was VERY loud! You could feel the bass vibrating through your body! She thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it, even if it took a few days to get her hearing back. I understand Max gave a great sermon as well (I missed it), and 173 children were sponsored for World Vision. My only musical disappointment was the absence of Michael W. Smith's signature piano. He played keyboard and guitar. It was still good though! :)
Sunday, October 17, 2010
The humor of asking for advice on the internet
Social networking can be many things - fun, helpful, frightening and weird - but sometimes it's just funny.
I read a lot of parenting sites to look for gems to share on PARENtEEN, something I started for Christian parents of teenagers some years ago. Yesterday, I decided to solicit from advice from other moms on one of these sites. I don't usually do this, but I needed a place to get my creative juices flowing after beginning the annual search for the perfect Christmas gifts.
When I asked my 20-year-old daughter, Kelsey, what she would like this year, she told me she didn't want any more "stuff." She said she would rather have experiences at this stage of her life. What a smart girl! It's the perfect time in her life to pursue new things. However, as I thought about it, I was stumped for ideas. Most of these "experiences" are pretty costly.
So I posted my question on the parenting site. I did indeed get some great ideas. (Sorry, I won't share them on here because I suspect Kelsey will read this blog post!) I got some really goofy suggestions too, but mostly, the ideas were just plain funny because these complete strangers don't know my daughter.
For example, they have no way of knowing Kelsey has a sensitivity to heights. Thus, I have to rule out a hot air balloon ride, flight lessons, sky diving (both indoor and outdoor), ziplines, and helicopter rides.
They also had no idea how much Kelsey hates cold weather, in spite of growing up in the upper Midwest. Somehow, I don't think she would enjoy skiing or ice skating lessons. And, since she froze while camping at a music festival (in the middle of summer), I believe I'll toss out the idea of getting her something to use for camping.
Someone said I should send her to a local festival. I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that person doesn't live in Wisconsin. For those of you who don't, every little town for miles around has a festival. Our town has Kornfest. Yep. And it's not a celebration of the band Korn. People eat corn and drink beer. No kidding.
One person suggested giving her a class at the local technical school. Since she's enrolled there, I don't think she would find that to be the kind of experience she was looking for. Another person recommended a YMCA membership. Sorry folks, she works there and already has one!
Kelsey has an aversion to video games, so I'll pass on the gift certificate for a gaming place.
Some of the ideas were funny just because I have a hard time picturing Kelsey doing these things: rock climbing, shooting a gun or bow at an indoor range, or car racing. Maybe that's not fair of me, but I'm sure Kelsey will let me know if she's interested. That includes arranging a ride along in an ambulance on the off chance she might be intrigued by a career as an EMT.
However, this was my favorite and the funniest, by far: find a farmer to teach her how to operate a tractor, forklift, or other large piece of machinery. Really? That's a gift you would give your 20-year-old daughter? Living in a hick town in Wisconsin, that one tickled me pink.
On the internet, I guess sometimes you get what you ask for. Lesson learned!
I read a lot of parenting sites to look for gems to share on PARENtEEN, something I started for Christian parents of teenagers some years ago. Yesterday, I decided to solicit from advice from other moms on one of these sites. I don't usually do this, but I needed a place to get my creative juices flowing after beginning the annual search for the perfect Christmas gifts.
When I asked my 20-year-old daughter, Kelsey, what she would like this year, she told me she didn't want any more "stuff." She said she would rather have experiences at this stage of her life. What a smart girl! It's the perfect time in her life to pursue new things. However, as I thought about it, I was stumped for ideas. Most of these "experiences" are pretty costly.
So I posted my question on the parenting site. I did indeed get some great ideas. (Sorry, I won't share them on here because I suspect Kelsey will read this blog post!) I got some really goofy suggestions too, but mostly, the ideas were just plain funny because these complete strangers don't know my daughter.
For example, they have no way of knowing Kelsey has a sensitivity to heights. Thus, I have to rule out a hot air balloon ride, flight lessons, sky diving (both indoor and outdoor), ziplines, and helicopter rides.
They also had no idea how much Kelsey hates cold weather, in spite of growing up in the upper Midwest. Somehow, I don't think she would enjoy skiing or ice skating lessons. And, since she froze while camping at a music festival (in the middle of summer), I believe I'll toss out the idea of getting her something to use for camping.
Someone said I should send her to a local festival. I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that person doesn't live in Wisconsin. For those of you who don't, every little town for miles around has a festival. Our town has Kornfest. Yep. And it's not a celebration of the band Korn. People eat corn and drink beer. No kidding.
One person suggested giving her a class at the local technical school. Since she's enrolled there, I don't think she would find that to be the kind of experience she was looking for. Another person recommended a YMCA membership. Sorry folks, she works there and already has one!
Kelsey has an aversion to video games, so I'll pass on the gift certificate for a gaming place.
Some of the ideas were funny just because I have a hard time picturing Kelsey doing these things: rock climbing, shooting a gun or bow at an indoor range, or car racing. Maybe that's not fair of me, but I'm sure Kelsey will let me know if she's interested. That includes arranging a ride along in an ambulance on the off chance she might be intrigued by a career as an EMT.
However, this was my favorite and the funniest, by far: find a farmer to teach her how to operate a tractor, forklift, or other large piece of machinery. Really? That's a gift you would give your 20-year-old daughter? Living in a hick town in Wisconsin, that one tickled me pink.
On the internet, I guess sometimes you get what you ask for. Lesson learned!
Thursday, October 14, 2010
And the answer is...
For those of you who read my blog regularly, you'll remember that I had a trip planned which I came to realize may not have the blessing of God. (Read the whole post here.)
I surrendered it to God, and up until yesterday afternoon, it appeared He was ok with it. Then the bottom fell out. It was one of those situations which would have allowed for me to still take the trip, but I did not have peace about it. I was not feeling the blessing of God.
That feeling was confirmed after talking with my mother, who was set to accompany me on the trip. She remarked (without knowing my spiritual struggle) that ever since we planned the trip, she had this feeling we weren't going.
I spent the remainder of the evening pouting, moping, even crying. This verse kept coming to my mind: "Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." (1 Thessalonians 5:18) I kept trying to get there, but I was wallowing in self-pity.
I woke up this morning and decided it was time for a new approach. I asked God to show me what He wanted me to do today. Sat down with my Bible and continued my study in the book of Hebrews, and here's what jumped off the page: "Although he (Jesus) was a son, he learned obedience from what he suffered." (Hebrews 5:8) This is what I like to call a "brick from heaven", because sometimes God needs to drop a brick on my head to get through to me! What God wanted me to do was to learn this lesson, and learn it well. If even the Lord Jesus Christ suffered to learn obedience, I must endure suffering as well.
That would have been enough, but having the Loving Father that I do, He sent me encouragement to live this out. My October 14 devotional from the book, "Jesus Calling", reads as follows:
"Be prepared to suffer for Me, in My Name. All suffering has meaning in My kingdom. Pain and problems are opportunities to demonstrate your trust in Me. Bearing your circumstances bravely - even thanking Me for them - is one of the highest forms of praise. This sacrifice of thanksgiving rings golden-toned bells of Joy throughout heavenly realms. On earth also, your patient suffering send out ripples of good tidings in ever-widening circles. When suffering strikes, remember that I am sovereign and that I can bring good out of everything. Do not try to run from pain or hide from problems. Instead, accept adversity in My Name, offering it up to Me for My purposes. Thus, your suffering gains meaning and draws you closer to Me. Joy emerges from the ashes of adversity through your trust and thankfulness."
Thank you, Lord, for loving me enough to allow me to suffer, even though this situation is the tiniest thing in the scope of eternity. I trust You to bring something beautiful out of the next three days.
I surrendered it to God, and up until yesterday afternoon, it appeared He was ok with it. Then the bottom fell out. It was one of those situations which would have allowed for me to still take the trip, but I did not have peace about it. I was not feeling the blessing of God.
That feeling was confirmed after talking with my mother, who was set to accompany me on the trip. She remarked (without knowing my spiritual struggle) that ever since we planned the trip, she had this feeling we weren't going.
I spent the remainder of the evening pouting, moping, even crying. This verse kept coming to my mind: "Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." (1 Thessalonians 5:18) I kept trying to get there, but I was wallowing in self-pity.
I woke up this morning and decided it was time for a new approach. I asked God to show me what He wanted me to do today. Sat down with my Bible and continued my study in the book of Hebrews, and here's what jumped off the page: "Although he (Jesus) was a son, he learned obedience from what he suffered." (Hebrews 5:8) This is what I like to call a "brick from heaven", because sometimes God needs to drop a brick on my head to get through to me! What God wanted me to do was to learn this lesson, and learn it well. If even the Lord Jesus Christ suffered to learn obedience, I must endure suffering as well.
That would have been enough, but having the Loving Father that I do, He sent me encouragement to live this out. My October 14 devotional from the book, "Jesus Calling", reads as follows:
"Be prepared to suffer for Me, in My Name. All suffering has meaning in My kingdom. Pain and problems are opportunities to demonstrate your trust in Me. Bearing your circumstances bravely - even thanking Me for them - is one of the highest forms of praise. This sacrifice of thanksgiving rings golden-toned bells of Joy throughout heavenly realms. On earth also, your patient suffering send out ripples of good tidings in ever-widening circles. When suffering strikes, remember that I am sovereign and that I can bring good out of everything. Do not try to run from pain or hide from problems. Instead, accept adversity in My Name, offering it up to Me for My purposes. Thus, your suffering gains meaning and draws you closer to Me. Joy emerges from the ashes of adversity through your trust and thankfulness."
Thank you, Lord, for loving me enough to allow me to suffer, even though this situation is the tiniest thing in the scope of eternity. I trust You to bring something beautiful out of the next three days.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
7 things I've learned as a Vikings fan
On September 4, 1993, my husband and I took our wedding vows. One of his vows (though not in the ceremony) was to convert me from a Minnesota Vikings fan to a Green Bay Packers fan. I think he thought it would be easy, now that I was living in Wisconsin.
Seventeen years later, I'm still a Vikings fan. Last night's game, like many others throughout the years, had me questioning why. When others ask me why I'm a Vikings fan, I've always answered with, "Because I grew up in Minnesota." Well, I decided last night, that's not good enough.
So, I examined my love of all things purple, and I came up with seven reasons why it's good for me to be a Vikings fan. Here goes:
Seventeen years later, I'm still a Vikings fan. Last night's game, like many others throughout the years, had me questioning why. When others ask me why I'm a Vikings fan, I've always answered with, "Because I grew up in Minnesota." Well, I decided last night, that's not good enough.
So, I examined my love of all things purple, and I came up with seven reasons why it's good for me to be a Vikings fan. Here goes:
- I learned the value of commitment. Of all people, I hope my husband understands and appreciates this the most. It's a value I've tried to impress upon my children as well. When you commit to something, you stick to it. I've failed in this area before in my life, so I truly know the joy of sticking it out.
- I learned never to give up on someone just because they are in a slump. We all make mistakes and fall short. I have people in my life who've stood by me, even when I was acting like a complete moron. I have to give the same to my team.
- I have learned to eat, drink, and breathe persistence. Just because I haven't met my goal yet, I don't just quit! I press on for the prize.
- I have learned not everyone has experienced being a champion. These are the folks that need support more than anyone. They are the down-trodden, the oppressed, the needy. In fact, as a Christian, these are the people I am to look out for the most.
- I have learned people will often love or hate you based on their own need at the moment. This has helped me see things from another person's point of view, rather than just my own.
- I have learned people deserve another chance. Even when they are old. Maybe especially because they are old!
- Most importantly, I have learned the value of standing up for something you believe in and not caving in to peer pressure.
So I will remain a Vikings fan, here in the land of green, gold, and cheese, despite my husband's best efforts to sway me.
Oh, and one more thing. In case you didn't know, purple is the color of royalty. Kings never have to "win" anything to deserve honor. :)
Oh, and one more thing. In case you didn't know, purple is the color of royalty. Kings never have to "win" anything to deserve honor. :)
Monday, October 11, 2010
Everybody wants to be a rock star
"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving." Colossians 3:23-24
Ask five kids what they want to be when they grow up. I will bet four out of five will want to be some sort of celebrity, whether that is a musician, actor, or sports star. And why wouldn't they? Isn't that what everyone in our culture strives for? Fame is the ultimate intoxicant in this party called "Life in the 21st Century."
Christians are certainly not exempt from this. Think about it: God calls you to do something, and you immediately picture it as this wildly popular, successful triumph. For example, if you are called to be a writer, you think you have to write a best seller. If you are called to be a musician, you imagine performing before crowds of thousands. And what pastor hasn't dreamt of leading a megachurch? It all seems so world-changing, powerful, and divine. After all, that's what God wants, right?
The truth is, God has a plan for your life, just as He has a plan for all those famous people. The thing is, it might not be the same plan. While Rick Warren was called to impact thousands of people, your role may be to impact one person (who may, in turn, impact thousands).
Mother Teresa is often credited with this statement: "God doesn't call us to be successful, he calls us to be faithful." That means, if you were called to be a mother, change that dirty diaper with gusto. If you were called to be a waiter, look for every opportunity to be Jesus to a customer. If you were called to be a teacher, share your knowledge with creativity and excitement. Do your job to the best of your ability in the spirit of serving Christ.
That doesn't mean you can't dream about having a ministry that changes the world. Jesus said, "Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much" (Luke 16:10). He did not say if you are trustworthy with very little, you can expect to be given much. He calls us to be faithful in the small things, even if that is all they ever amount to, in our eyes. We must trust that these small things are part of the greater good in furthering the Kingdom of Heaven here on earth.
Ask five kids what they want to be when they grow up. I will bet four out of five will want to be some sort of celebrity, whether that is a musician, actor, or sports star. And why wouldn't they? Isn't that what everyone in our culture strives for? Fame is the ultimate intoxicant in this party called "Life in the 21st Century."
Christians are certainly not exempt from this. Think about it: God calls you to do something, and you immediately picture it as this wildly popular, successful triumph. For example, if you are called to be a writer, you think you have to write a best seller. If you are called to be a musician, you imagine performing before crowds of thousands. And what pastor hasn't dreamt of leading a megachurch? It all seems so world-changing, powerful, and divine. After all, that's what God wants, right?
The truth is, God has a plan for your life, just as He has a plan for all those famous people. The thing is, it might not be the same plan. While Rick Warren was called to impact thousands of people, your role may be to impact one person (who may, in turn, impact thousands).
Mother Teresa is often credited with this statement: "God doesn't call us to be successful, he calls us to be faithful." That means, if you were called to be a mother, change that dirty diaper with gusto. If you were called to be a waiter, look for every opportunity to be Jesus to a customer. If you were called to be a teacher, share your knowledge with creativity and excitement. Do your job to the best of your ability in the spirit of serving Christ.
That doesn't mean you can't dream about having a ministry that changes the world. Jesus said, "Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much" (Luke 16:10). He did not say if you are trustworthy with very little, you can expect to be given much. He calls us to be faithful in the small things, even if that is all they ever amount to, in our eyes. We must trust that these small things are part of the greater good in furthering the Kingdom of Heaven here on earth.
Friday, October 08, 2010
Do we need to ask God's permission?
"In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps." Proverbs 16:9
"Everything is permissible - but not everything is beneficial. Everything is permissible - but not everything is constructive." 1 Corinthians 10:23
I haven't seen my favorite cousins in over three years. I say "cousins", but they are more like sisters to me. We've never lived geographically close to one another, but even when we were young and got together at the occasional holiday, we could always pick up where we left off. There has always been a special bond. Plus, they are both incredibly funny. We are like teenage girls when we get together...lots of giggling!
I've missed spending time with them (sorry Facebook, you just don't cut the mustard!). Every time we've attempted to get together, something has come up. It's been really frustrating. Then, a few weeks ago, I found out my favorite band was going to be playing in their city. I haven't seen Switchfoot in a long time either, and it seemed like divine intervention. So, without consulting anyone - and I do mean, anyone - I bought the tickets and put it on the calendar. In fact, I do believe my attitude at the time was, "I'm going! I'm just going, darn it, and I don't care if anyone likes it!" Yep, real spiritual.
The concert is now a week away. Guess who woke up under the weather today? Both my daughter and me.
My first reaction was irritation and anger. I complained to God about this possible interruption in my plans. I believe the conversation went something like this:
Me: God, I can't be sick! I miss my cousins too much and I just have to go!
God: It would have been nice if you'd asked Me.
Me: Oh. Yeah. I never did that, did I? Oops. Sorry about that.
God: You know, you don't need my permission to do these things. You are free to do whatever you please. But when you ask, it allows me the opportunity to bless it. And to bless you.
Me: (smacks self in forehead) You're so right! Lord, I'm so sorry for not asking you. Please forgive me!
I started to think about my adult daughter who lives at home. She's almost always considerate about letting me know her plans. She does not need my permission, but she does it out of respect, and in a way, looking for my blessing. If I say I do not approve of her plans, she still has the option to follow through or not, but she knows things will go better if she listens to me. She knows I have her best interest at heart.
It is like that with the Lord. He always has my best interest at heart. And if He doesn't want me to go visit my cousins next week, there's a reason why, and I can trust that it is for my good.
I ended the conversation with God like this: "God, I still want to go, but if You don't want me to, I won't go." Ouch. That still stings.
"Everything is permissible - but not everything is beneficial. Everything is permissible - but not everything is constructive." 1 Corinthians 10:23
I haven't seen my favorite cousins in over three years. I say "cousins", but they are more like sisters to me. We've never lived geographically close to one another, but even when we were young and got together at the occasional holiday, we could always pick up where we left off. There has always been a special bond. Plus, they are both incredibly funny. We are like teenage girls when we get together...lots of giggling!
I've missed spending time with them (sorry Facebook, you just don't cut the mustard!). Every time we've attempted to get together, something has come up. It's been really frustrating. Then, a few weeks ago, I found out my favorite band was going to be playing in their city. I haven't seen Switchfoot in a long time either, and it seemed like divine intervention. So, without consulting anyone - and I do mean, anyone - I bought the tickets and put it on the calendar. In fact, I do believe my attitude at the time was, "I'm going! I'm just going, darn it, and I don't care if anyone likes it!" Yep, real spiritual.
The concert is now a week away. Guess who woke up under the weather today? Both my daughter and me.
My first reaction was irritation and anger. I complained to God about this possible interruption in my plans. I believe the conversation went something like this:
Me: God, I can't be sick! I miss my cousins too much and I just have to go!
God: It would have been nice if you'd asked Me.
Me: Oh. Yeah. I never did that, did I? Oops. Sorry about that.
God: You know, you don't need my permission to do these things. You are free to do whatever you please. But when you ask, it allows me the opportunity to bless it. And to bless you.
Me: (smacks self in forehead) You're so right! Lord, I'm so sorry for not asking you. Please forgive me!
I started to think about my adult daughter who lives at home. She's almost always considerate about letting me know her plans. She does not need my permission, but she does it out of respect, and in a way, looking for my blessing. If I say I do not approve of her plans, she still has the option to follow through or not, but she knows things will go better if she listens to me. She knows I have her best interest at heart.
It is like that with the Lord. He always has my best interest at heart. And if He doesn't want me to go visit my cousins next week, there's a reason why, and I can trust that it is for my good.
I ended the conversation with God like this: "God, I still want to go, but if You don't want me to, I won't go." Ouch. That still stings.
Monday, October 04, 2010
Do we choose to be foggy?
"I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness." John 12:46
Fall weather has made its appearance in Wisconsin, and that means the sun takes a little longer to appear each morning. This morning was particularly dark, as there was a shroud of fog covering our neighborhood.
Have you ever watched fog dissipate? For the first time in my decades of living (notice how I managed to avoid disclosing my age?), I witnessed it this morning. I happened to be outside and noticed the clouds quickly rising. It was almost as if they were being sucked up into heaven. I was struck by how fast they were moving. I caught a glimpse of a yellow ball behind one large cloud in the east, and from there, the clouds were shuffling towards the sky.
Within minutes, the clouds were completely gone, and the sun, in all it's brilliance, was beaming down warmth and light.
How very often does my heart get clouded and foggy! At times, I unnecessarily allow that fog to hang heavy over my life.
Jesus described himself as the light of the world, just as the sun illuminates the earth now. When I allow Him to shine into my life, my problems and confusion dissipate so quickly. Things become clearer, and there is light for my path. I can bask in the warmth of His love and find the direction I need to go.
Such a simple thing. I don't know why it is so hard to do at times. Why would I choose to live fogged-in? Is it a choice? Or are we kept there by someone or something? I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Fall weather has made its appearance in Wisconsin, and that means the sun takes a little longer to appear each morning. This morning was particularly dark, as there was a shroud of fog covering our neighborhood.
Have you ever watched fog dissipate? For the first time in my decades of living (notice how I managed to avoid disclosing my age?), I witnessed it this morning. I happened to be outside and noticed the clouds quickly rising. It was almost as if they were being sucked up into heaven. I was struck by how fast they were moving. I caught a glimpse of a yellow ball behind one large cloud in the east, and from there, the clouds were shuffling towards the sky.
Within minutes, the clouds were completely gone, and the sun, in all it's brilliance, was beaming down warmth and light.
How very often does my heart get clouded and foggy! At times, I unnecessarily allow that fog to hang heavy over my life.
Jesus described himself as the light of the world, just as the sun illuminates the earth now. When I allow Him to shine into my life, my problems and confusion dissipate so quickly. Things become clearer, and there is light for my path. I can bask in the warmth of His love and find the direction I need to go.
Such a simple thing. I don't know why it is so hard to do at times. Why would I choose to live fogged-in? Is it a choice? Or are we kept there by someone or something? I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
To obey is better than sacrifice
Some of you are too young to remember Keith Green, but he was both a musical and spiritual hero of mine growing up in the 1970's. He used a lot of Scripture in his lyrics, and to this day, when I read those words in the Bible, a song starts playing in my head. Such was the case this morning, as I was reading 1 Samuel 15.
The Lord told Saul to destroy the Amalekites completely, to leave nothing. Saul did indeed conquer the Amalekites, but he also plundered and pillaged, thinking it was okay because he sacrificed some of it to the Lord. The Lord was grieved because Saul did not obey him and sent Samuel to talk to him. Saul gave his explanation (i.e. excuse) for disobeying. "To obey is better than sacrifice," said Samuel to Saul.
I've been learning a bit about obedience lately. Sometimes, the Lord asks me to do things that are uncomfortable or inconvenient. Sometimes, I'm downright rebellious and refuse to do them. Other times, I might do them, but like Saul, I tweak the plan to satisfy my own desires.
A few weeks ago, I heard a teaching on the Lord's Prayer. The suggestion was made to pray through the prayer line by line, adding a personal tone to the conversation. I sat down to do this and immediately got hung up at "Our Father." My Father, my heavenly and eternal Father...the top dog for all time. I asked God to help me recognize Him as THE authority in my life, and I asked for the Holy Spirit to enable me to surrender to God's will.
What a powerful prayer that is turning out to be in the area of obedience! Now, when I am asked to do something I'm not excited about, my prayer goes something like this: "OK, Lord, I know you are asking me to do this, and I know You know I don't want to. But I will do it if You want me to." Admittedly, I have to work on the tone of my voice...I still sound like a pouty little child...but at least I'm sincere. :)
The cool thing about this: He doesn't always make me do it. For example, He will ask me to get together with someone who I know is going through a rough time, and because I'm tired/busy/stressed out, I don't feel up to it. But I tell Him I will if He wants me to. Most of the time, I have to do it and end up being glad I did. But sometimes, I'll get a call canceling the meeting (often for the strangest reasons), and I'm off the hook.
Isn't that just like a Dad with his daughter? 1 John 5:3 says, "This is love for God: to obey his commands. And his commands are not burdensome." I used to struggle with this verse because I did see some things as burdensome. Now I understand - behind those commands are His love. To obey is truly better than sacrifice.
The Lord told Saul to destroy the Amalekites completely, to leave nothing. Saul did indeed conquer the Amalekites, but he also plundered and pillaged, thinking it was okay because he sacrificed some of it to the Lord. The Lord was grieved because Saul did not obey him and sent Samuel to talk to him. Saul gave his explanation (i.e. excuse) for disobeying. "To obey is better than sacrifice," said Samuel to Saul.
I've been learning a bit about obedience lately. Sometimes, the Lord asks me to do things that are uncomfortable or inconvenient. Sometimes, I'm downright rebellious and refuse to do them. Other times, I might do them, but like Saul, I tweak the plan to satisfy my own desires.
A few weeks ago, I heard a teaching on the Lord's Prayer. The suggestion was made to pray through the prayer line by line, adding a personal tone to the conversation. I sat down to do this and immediately got hung up at "Our Father." My Father, my heavenly and eternal Father...the top dog for all time. I asked God to help me recognize Him as THE authority in my life, and I asked for the Holy Spirit to enable me to surrender to God's will.
What a powerful prayer that is turning out to be in the area of obedience! Now, when I am asked to do something I'm not excited about, my prayer goes something like this: "OK, Lord, I know you are asking me to do this, and I know You know I don't want to. But I will do it if You want me to." Admittedly, I have to work on the tone of my voice...I still sound like a pouty little child...but at least I'm sincere. :)
The cool thing about this: He doesn't always make me do it. For example, He will ask me to get together with someone who I know is going through a rough time, and because I'm tired/busy/stressed out, I don't feel up to it. But I tell Him I will if He wants me to. Most of the time, I have to do it and end up being glad I did. But sometimes, I'll get a call canceling the meeting (often for the strangest reasons), and I'm off the hook.
Isn't that just like a Dad with his daughter? 1 John 5:3 says, "This is love for God: to obey his commands. And his commands are not burdensome." I used to struggle with this verse because I did see some things as burdensome. Now I understand - behind those commands are His love. To obey is truly better than sacrifice.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Overflow
I hadn't intended to blog today, just because everyone and their grandmothers seem to be sharing 9/11 memories. Then I read a friend's blog, and she talked about sharing her memories for her kids' sake. I do think it's important for them to know how I felt because the initial hours of the attacks forever changed my parenting.
It actually all started two years prior with the Columbine school shooting. My oldest, Jeremy, was in middle school then, and although it did cause me to think differently about my kids' safety at school (and pray a lot more!), I wasn't overcome by fear. Still, it was the beginning of a long process of letting go. Each day, I let them go out the door to school with the hope they would return several hours later.
Anyone will tell you, the morning of 9/11/01 began like any other. Once again, Jeremy and Kelsey went off to school, Dan went to work, and I was at home with my preschooler, Emma. For some unknown reason, I had the TV on, which I almost never did. (Oddly enough, that happened to me one other time: the day the Space Shuttle exploded.) I was in the bedroom folding laundry when the first news reports came filtering in. At first, it seemed it was a horrible accident, but it quickly became apparent that something else was going on.
When the second building was hit, it was as if that plane had flown right into my heart. There was a gaping hole that was overflowing with emotion. My immediate thought was, "We are at war! Someone is attacking the United States!" I thought of old war movies with bombings and chaos, and wondered if that was how life was going to be from now on. I watched in horror as people jumped from the burning towers and people on the street ran from the debris. Growing up in the Cold War, I suddenly questioned why we had done away with bomb shelters. What should I do? Should I take my little one and go to the basement? Fear, anger, and grief gripped me as I realized my family was scattered in the midst of all this.
Then it hit me hard. I might never see my husband or two children on this earth again.
I went to my knees and prayed to the God of hope.
I was relieved to discover the phones were working and talked to Dan about what was going on. I was extremely concerned for Kelsey. She was in elementary school, and when I called there, they said the kids were huddled around the television just like everyone else. She was my sensitive girl, and I wasn't sure if she could handle it. The school told parents they could pick up their children if they wanted but reassured us they were doing fine. All I knew was, I wanted my family home. Together.
Dan went to the school to see if Kelsey wanted to come home, but she said she was fine and stayed. I had to endure hours before everyone was finally back at home. My heart was so heavy all day for those who lost loved ones. The attacks had stopped, so I worried less. But like everyone else, I wondered when or if it would happen again.
The next day, I had to send them all out the door again. It was different this time. My level of trust they would return safely was at an all time low. And I remember this clearly...Jeremy said, "Mom, Pastor Dan (our youth pastor at the time) always says we should never say goodbye. Instead we should say 'See ya later.' Because one way or another, we're gonna see each other later." From that day forward, that became the way we parted. "See ya later, I love you."
I said this day forever changed my parenting. My kids would probably tell you I worry too much. I make them check in when they are gone, I can't sleep until they get home at night...stuff like that. Mostly though, 9/11 changed my parenting because I learned not to take my family for granted. I learned to treasure time spent with them, and to try to avoid going to bed or leaving one another angry. Have I always been perfect with this? No. Not even close. But I think 9/11 made me better because I learned the value of hope.
Today, I've decided to mark this anniversary by trusting God. Romans 15:13 says, "May the God of hope fill you will all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope." Each day, as my family scatters to work and school, I am going to pray this verse and wait for the overflow.
See ya later. I love you.
It actually all started two years prior with the Columbine school shooting. My oldest, Jeremy, was in middle school then, and although it did cause me to think differently about my kids' safety at school (and pray a lot more!), I wasn't overcome by fear. Still, it was the beginning of a long process of letting go. Each day, I let them go out the door to school with the hope they would return several hours later.
Anyone will tell you, the morning of 9/11/01 began like any other. Once again, Jeremy and Kelsey went off to school, Dan went to work, and I was at home with my preschooler, Emma. For some unknown reason, I had the TV on, which I almost never did. (Oddly enough, that happened to me one other time: the day the Space Shuttle exploded.) I was in the bedroom folding laundry when the first news reports came filtering in. At first, it seemed it was a horrible accident, but it quickly became apparent that something else was going on.
When the second building was hit, it was as if that plane had flown right into my heart. There was a gaping hole that was overflowing with emotion. My immediate thought was, "We are at war! Someone is attacking the United States!" I thought of old war movies with bombings and chaos, and wondered if that was how life was going to be from now on. I watched in horror as people jumped from the burning towers and people on the street ran from the debris. Growing up in the Cold War, I suddenly questioned why we had done away with bomb shelters. What should I do? Should I take my little one and go to the basement? Fear, anger, and grief gripped me as I realized my family was scattered in the midst of all this.
Then it hit me hard. I might never see my husband or two children on this earth again.
I went to my knees and prayed to the God of hope.
I was relieved to discover the phones were working and talked to Dan about what was going on. I was extremely concerned for Kelsey. She was in elementary school, and when I called there, they said the kids were huddled around the television just like everyone else. She was my sensitive girl, and I wasn't sure if she could handle it. The school told parents they could pick up their children if they wanted but reassured us they were doing fine. All I knew was, I wanted my family home. Together.
Dan went to the school to see if Kelsey wanted to come home, but she said she was fine and stayed. I had to endure hours before everyone was finally back at home. My heart was so heavy all day for those who lost loved ones. The attacks had stopped, so I worried less. But like everyone else, I wondered when or if it would happen again.
The next day, I had to send them all out the door again. It was different this time. My level of trust they would return safely was at an all time low. And I remember this clearly...Jeremy said, "Mom, Pastor Dan (our youth pastor at the time) always says we should never say goodbye. Instead we should say 'See ya later.' Because one way or another, we're gonna see each other later." From that day forward, that became the way we parted. "See ya later, I love you."
I said this day forever changed my parenting. My kids would probably tell you I worry too much. I make them check in when they are gone, I can't sleep until they get home at night...stuff like that. Mostly though, 9/11 changed my parenting because I learned not to take my family for granted. I learned to treasure time spent with them, and to try to avoid going to bed or leaving one another angry. Have I always been perfect with this? No. Not even close. But I think 9/11 made me better because I learned the value of hope.
Today, I've decided to mark this anniversary by trusting God. Romans 15:13 says, "May the God of hope fill you will all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope." Each day, as my family scatters to work and school, I am going to pray this verse and wait for the overflow.
See ya later. I love you.
Sunday, September 05, 2010
Love is blind
Have you ever felt betrayed by someone? If you live on this planet, your answer to that question should be "yes", if you're being honest. Whether it be a friend, a spouse, a co-worker or a neighbor, people are inevitably going to disappoint me at times. It's just a fact of life, and it should not surprise me when it happens. Yet, it always seems to catch me off guard, and as a result, sometimes it takes awhile to reach a place of forgiveness.
This morning, I was sorting through the remnants of those emotions from something that happened yesterday. I was over the anger, but holding on to the hurt the way a child holds on to their security blanket. As this thought passed through my brain, it became evident that I was, indeed, acting like a child.
"OK, God...I'm ready to let it go." *sigh* I stepped out on the deck to enjoy the cool, quiet morning with a cup of tea, my devotional, and my Bible. I settled into a chair and opened the devotional. The first line read like this: "I AM YOUR BEST FRIEND, as well as your King."
My mind emphasizing the first word, "I", my heart took a direct hit. Often times we refer to people or even spouses as our best friends, but the reality is, none of them could ever be best. That description belongs to my King, the lover of my soul, my friend Jesus. He is best because He will never betray me. He will never let me down. He always keeps His word. And He loved me enough to give His very life for me.
As I let those words wash over me, I picked up my Bible and found the spot where I had left off in Song of Songs. Chapter 4 starts off with Jesus saying to me, "How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful!" Ha, yeah right, Lord. You see me both inside and out right now, and you know perfectly well that's not true.
He goes on to describe my many features in glorious fashion, which nearly set me to laughing. Then he says, "All beautiful you are, my darling; there is no flaw in you." OK, now You're just being silly!
That's when it hit me: love is blind. Remember when you first fell in love with your spouse, how everything they did was adorable and wonderful? Remember how defensive you would get if a friend or family member pointed out some character flaw in him/her? "Love must be blind!", they would say.
When Jesus hung on the cross, suffered and died for me, He willingly took all that ugliness away. In His eyes, because of the price He paid, God sees no flaw in us. He sees us as perfect, inside and out. He's not just blowing smoke when He says we are beautiful. His love makes Him blind to our sinful nature.
Now THAT'S what I call a BFF. The only best friend I will ever need. For once, I'm glad love is blind.
This morning, I was sorting through the remnants of those emotions from something that happened yesterday. I was over the anger, but holding on to the hurt the way a child holds on to their security blanket. As this thought passed through my brain, it became evident that I was, indeed, acting like a child.
"OK, God...I'm ready to let it go." *sigh* I stepped out on the deck to enjoy the cool, quiet morning with a cup of tea, my devotional, and my Bible. I settled into a chair and opened the devotional. The first line read like this: "I AM YOUR BEST FRIEND, as well as your King."
My mind emphasizing the first word, "I", my heart took a direct hit. Often times we refer to people or even spouses as our best friends, but the reality is, none of them could ever be best. That description belongs to my King, the lover of my soul, my friend Jesus. He is best because He will never betray me. He will never let me down. He always keeps His word. And He loved me enough to give His very life for me.
As I let those words wash over me, I picked up my Bible and found the spot where I had left off in Song of Songs. Chapter 4 starts off with Jesus saying to me, "How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful!" Ha, yeah right, Lord. You see me both inside and out right now, and you know perfectly well that's not true.
He goes on to describe my many features in glorious fashion, which nearly set me to laughing. Then he says, "All beautiful you are, my darling; there is no flaw in you." OK, now You're just being silly!
That's when it hit me: love is blind. Remember when you first fell in love with your spouse, how everything they did was adorable and wonderful? Remember how defensive you would get if a friend or family member pointed out some character flaw in him/her? "Love must be blind!", they would say.
When Jesus hung on the cross, suffered and died for me, He willingly took all that ugliness away. In His eyes, because of the price He paid, God sees no flaw in us. He sees us as perfect, inside and out. He's not just blowing smoke when He says we are beautiful. His love makes Him blind to our sinful nature.
Now THAT'S what I call a BFF. The only best friend I will ever need. For once, I'm glad love is blind.
Wednesday, September 01, 2010
Sweet freedom
| Freedom...what many mothers are experiencing today, the first day of school! I'm experiencing it too, though not in the same way. The first day of school for home schoolers means MORE work, and the kids are still around! A few months ago, I blogged about the word "freedom" (read the whole post here). For weeks after that, the word kept popping up in things I read, listened to, and saw. I really wasn't sure what I was supposed to be grasping, and quite honestly, I had forgotten about it until today. I took Molly for a walk this morning. This dog has sure been good for my spiritual life! Epiphanies seem to happen most often when I'm walking her. OK, so maybe it's not so much the dog, but the fact that I pray well while we are walking. So this morning, I was praying...thanking, petitioning, and confessing. Suddenly I was overcome with the reality that I am literally uncondemnable in the eyes of God (Romans 8:1). For the first time in my life, I was able to lay hold of that truth. And then this flashed through my mind: HOW FREEING IS THAT?! To know that God sees me that way, that I am the righteousness of God, is liberating beyond measure. It radically increases my love for my Savior, and in turn, makes it easy to make Him Lord of my life. Never has serving a Master been so sweet. Freedom. Sweet freedom. |
Sunday, August 29, 2010
God, prayer, and...motorcycles?
I've had what you might call "God experiences" in my life before. Do you know what I mean? Those moments when something has happened that just HAD to be God?
I had one of those "God is real" moments today, and I'm still reeling from it (in a good way).
About a year ago, my husband Dan said he would really like to have a motorcycle again. He used to ride back in his single days, and his best friend was hoping he would get one so they could ride together. I was opposed to this idea, but not for the reason most wives are. I am not worried about his safety - I trust God with that. I was more concerned if it was the right thing to do with our money. In fact, I think I may have told him I thought it was a little bit selfish, and it just seemed like we could do better (i.e. more spiritual) things with our money. I also rattled off a bunch of practical reasons why I was opposed, but told him he should pray about it. So he did. For awhile.
Every once in awhile, Dan would bring it up again, usually in a joking manner, saying that I "wouldn't let him" get a motorcycle. I figured he had come to terms with it and had decided it wasn't the best thing after all.
This week, we had been talking about what we were going to do with some money Dan is about to receive in a settlement from an auto accident. He never mentioned a motorcycle, and it certainly never crossed my mind.
This morning, I was walking my dog before going to church. Walking a dog in our neighborhood has proven to be dangerous at times, so I've become accustomed to praying while walking. I was praying about various things, when I was suddenly struck with this thought from the Lord: "You need to tell Dan to use part of that money to buy a motorcycle."
My reaction? "No way! NO WAY, God, did You hear that? I am so NOT doing that. That is ridiculous." And in that same moment, I was reminded of a powerful story our pastor told last week about hearing a message from God and reacting the same way. Yet, I blew it off.
I went home, got ready for church, and didn't give it another thought. We went to church, worshipped, and settled in for the message from Pastor Shane. He was finishing up a series of sermons on prayer (which, by the way, you should all go listen to at the First Free website).
He ended the sermon with a story. He said it was a story about a great prayer experience. And as soon as the word "motorcycle" came out of his mouth, I knew I was in trouble.
It seems he and his wife were discussing what to do with a large tax refund they received. He really wanted to buy a motorcycle, and he asked his wife if she was ok with that. She was, and that was the plan, until his children decided they wanted to undertake an intensive program of karate, which ironically cost the same amount as the tax refund. Being an unselfish and generous father, he paid for the karate, but he told his wife he decided to pray and ask God for a motorcycle. In fact, not just any motorcycle, but a Harley Davidson.
He prayed every day for a few months, but then he felt God telling him he was done praying about it. He interpreted that as God saying no to the motorcycle, so he stopped praying about it.
(Let me interrupt the story to say, at this point, my knees started trembling. I KNEW how the story was going to end, and I could almost HEAR God laughing heartily about how He answered my husband's prayer.)
A few weeks later, one Sunday after the worship service, a burly biker approached Pastor Shane and asked him if he was familiar with the passage of Scripture in which Jesus says if you have two robes, you should share one with your brother. Shane confirmed that he knew the passage, and this gentleman shared how he had two motorcycles, and he believed he was supposed to share one with his brother. He asked God which brother, and God told him it was Shane. The biker asked Shane if he knew anything about that, to which Shane shouted "YES! God is real, and He likes me!" Oh, and for the record, the motorcycle...yep, it was a Harley.
The service quickly ended after the story, but I almost couldn't get out of my chair. I was pretty freaked out that God spoke to me through someone else like that! I was shaking from head to toe, but managed to get myself out of the building and into the car. At that point, I turned to Dan and said, "I just want to know one thing. Have you been praying for a motorcycle?" He laughed and said, "Not for a long time now." Then I told him what happened, and I said, "Now you HAVE to get a motorcycle! I'm not going to get in trouble with God!"
I'm still in awe and wonder that the God of the universe not only answered my husband's prayer, but set me straight in a delightfully wonderful and personal way. What a great story we will have to tell about that motorcycle!
Does that mean if I pray for something, I will always receive it? Not if it isn't in my best interest, which is God's will for my life. But somehow I think I will do more asking than I have in the past, even for things that might not seem all that "spiritual". Why? Because God can work wonders through anything, including motorcycles.
I had one of those "God is real" moments today, and I'm still reeling from it (in a good way).
About a year ago, my husband Dan said he would really like to have a motorcycle again. He used to ride back in his single days, and his best friend was hoping he would get one so they could ride together. I was opposed to this idea, but not for the reason most wives are. I am not worried about his safety - I trust God with that. I was more concerned if it was the right thing to do with our money. In fact, I think I may have told him I thought it was a little bit selfish, and it just seemed like we could do better (i.e. more spiritual) things with our money. I also rattled off a bunch of practical reasons why I was opposed, but told him he should pray about it. So he did. For awhile.
Every once in awhile, Dan would bring it up again, usually in a joking manner, saying that I "wouldn't let him" get a motorcycle. I figured he had come to terms with it and had decided it wasn't the best thing after all.
This week, we had been talking about what we were going to do with some money Dan is about to receive in a settlement from an auto accident. He never mentioned a motorcycle, and it certainly never crossed my mind.
This morning, I was walking my dog before going to church. Walking a dog in our neighborhood has proven to be dangerous at times, so I've become accustomed to praying while walking. I was praying about various things, when I was suddenly struck with this thought from the Lord: "You need to tell Dan to use part of that money to buy a motorcycle."
My reaction? "No way! NO WAY, God, did You hear that? I am so NOT doing that. That is ridiculous." And in that same moment, I was reminded of a powerful story our pastor told last week about hearing a message from God and reacting the same way. Yet, I blew it off.
I went home, got ready for church, and didn't give it another thought. We went to church, worshipped, and settled in for the message from Pastor Shane. He was finishing up a series of sermons on prayer (which, by the way, you should all go listen to at the First Free website).
He ended the sermon with a story. He said it was a story about a great prayer experience. And as soon as the word "motorcycle" came out of his mouth, I knew I was in trouble.
It seems he and his wife were discussing what to do with a large tax refund they received. He really wanted to buy a motorcycle, and he asked his wife if she was ok with that. She was, and that was the plan, until his children decided they wanted to undertake an intensive program of karate, which ironically cost the same amount as the tax refund. Being an unselfish and generous father, he paid for the karate, but he told his wife he decided to pray and ask God for a motorcycle. In fact, not just any motorcycle, but a Harley Davidson.
He prayed every day for a few months, but then he felt God telling him he was done praying about it. He interpreted that as God saying no to the motorcycle, so he stopped praying about it.
(Let me interrupt the story to say, at this point, my knees started trembling. I KNEW how the story was going to end, and I could almost HEAR God laughing heartily about how He answered my husband's prayer.)
A few weeks later, one Sunday after the worship service, a burly biker approached Pastor Shane and asked him if he was familiar with the passage of Scripture in which Jesus says if you have two robes, you should share one with your brother. Shane confirmed that he knew the passage, and this gentleman shared how he had two motorcycles, and he believed he was supposed to share one with his brother. He asked God which brother, and God told him it was Shane. The biker asked Shane if he knew anything about that, to which Shane shouted "YES! God is real, and He likes me!" Oh, and for the record, the motorcycle...yep, it was a Harley.
The service quickly ended after the story, but I almost couldn't get out of my chair. I was pretty freaked out that God spoke to me through someone else like that! I was shaking from head to toe, but managed to get myself out of the building and into the car. At that point, I turned to Dan and said, "I just want to know one thing. Have you been praying for a motorcycle?" He laughed and said, "Not for a long time now." Then I told him what happened, and I said, "Now you HAVE to get a motorcycle! I'm not going to get in trouble with God!"
I'm still in awe and wonder that the God of the universe not only answered my husband's prayer, but set me straight in a delightfully wonderful and personal way. What a great story we will have to tell about that motorcycle!
Does that mean if I pray for something, I will always receive it? Not if it isn't in my best interest, which is God's will for my life. But somehow I think I will do more asking than I have in the past, even for things that might not seem all that "spiritual". Why? Because God can work wonders through anything, including motorcycles.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
It's Saturday, and I'm in love
The house is unusually quiet this morning. It's so quiet, I can hear the second hand moving in the clock on the wall. As I sit here and wait for my tea to brew, I pick up an old love letter.
The writer says this is the song to top all songs. Now that really means something to me, being an avid music lover. Music soothes the savage beast in me when nothing else will. Music moves me to deep, emotional places and calls me to be better. I don't care much for sappy love songs (unless they are accompanied by a double entendre) but this song is anything but sap.
This song reveals a lover who wants to know me most intimately. He sees my wrinkles, scars and unattractive parts and finds me beautiful in spite of them. He says and does all the right things. He calls me beautiful and exciting.
As I read and reread the letter, I wonder, "Why did I ever let him go?" I've reconciled with him over and over again; he takes me back every time. He endures my fickle heart and receives me with unbridled passion every time. What a cruel lover I am.
I am back in his arms this morning. Oh, that I will stay for good this time! Jesus, I will try not to run away this time. I will try to let you know me in the deepest parts and not be afraid. And thank you for the song, more wonderful than any other.
The writer says this is the song to top all songs. Now that really means something to me, being an avid music lover. Music soothes the savage beast in me when nothing else will. Music moves me to deep, emotional places and calls me to be better. I don't care much for sappy love songs (unless they are accompanied by a double entendre) but this song is anything but sap.
This song reveals a lover who wants to know me most intimately. He sees my wrinkles, scars and unattractive parts and finds me beautiful in spite of them. He says and does all the right things. He calls me beautiful and exciting.
As I read and reread the letter, I wonder, "Why did I ever let him go?" I've reconciled with him over and over again; he takes me back every time. He endures my fickle heart and receives me with unbridled passion every time. What a cruel lover I am.
I am back in his arms this morning. Oh, that I will stay for good this time! Jesus, I will try not to run away this time. I will try to let you know me in the deepest parts and not be afraid. And thank you for the song, more wonderful than any other.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Do people identify me correctly?
A recent poll conducted by Pew Research found the number of Americans who believe that President Obama is a Muslim has increased significantly since his inauguration and now accounts for nearly 20 percent of the nation's population. (Washington Post article)
President Obama claims to be a Christian. So why does one-fifth of the population not believe him? In the article, the president's faith advisor (not sure what that job is exactly) said Obama's Christian faith plays an "important part" in his daily life. He then referred to six speeches in which Obama talked about his beliefs. Hmmmm. Well, we can all talk a good game, can't we?
Yes, we can say we are Christian. We can attend church publicly every week. We can be charitable with donations and maybe, if we're really brave, bow our heads to pray before a meal in a restaurant. Does that mean people are buying it? Apparently not.
This article caused me to pause and self-reflect. Most people know that I claim to be a Christian. I wonder what the numbers would say if I were to poll a significant amount of my acquaintances. Am I talking the talk without walking the walk? Do my actions bear witness to the world that I am a follower of Christ?
Proverbs 27:19 says, "As water reflects a face, so a man's heart reflects the man." Dear Jesus, I pray that today, and every day, my heart might reflect the Man living in me...You.
President Obama claims to be a Christian. So why does one-fifth of the population not believe him? In the article, the president's faith advisor (not sure what that job is exactly) said Obama's Christian faith plays an "important part" in his daily life. He then referred to six speeches in which Obama talked about his beliefs. Hmmmm. Well, we can all talk a good game, can't we?
Yes, we can say we are Christian. We can attend church publicly every week. We can be charitable with donations and maybe, if we're really brave, bow our heads to pray before a meal in a restaurant. Does that mean people are buying it? Apparently not.
This article caused me to pause and self-reflect. Most people know that I claim to be a Christian. I wonder what the numbers would say if I were to poll a significant amount of my acquaintances. Am I talking the talk without walking the walk? Do my actions bear witness to the world that I am a follower of Christ?
Proverbs 27:19 says, "As water reflects a face, so a man's heart reflects the man." Dear Jesus, I pray that today, and every day, my heart might reflect the Man living in me...You.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Created things and worship
On this adventurous journey called life, I've recently been led down a path of learning. I'm learning things I thought I already knew, which is a good lesson in itself.
I'm learning a lot about worship. I'm not talking about standing in church and singing songs of praise (though that clearly can be a form of worship). I'm talking about the worship Jesus described to the Samaritan woman at the well, worshipping in spirit and in truth. I'm talking about the kind of worship Paul described in Romans, spiritual acts of worship with our bodies.
I've been spending some time this week in Winona, MN. Winona is a beautiful city situated between the bluffs and the Mississippi River. There is a beautiful park by a lake, which faces the bluffs. It's one of my favorite places to hang out, and one of those special places where I sense God's presence.
Today I committed to spending one hour in silence at this park to hear from God and write down whatever came to my mind. Here is part of what I recorded today:
The lake is a place of worship. Everything here worships God. The wildflowers bow down before His majesty. Tree branches and waves dance to the music of the wind. The birds sing under the care of their God.
People come here to refresh body and mind in the presence of His created beauty. They may think of this place as an escape, but I prefer to see it as a place to run to.
“As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God. My soul thirst for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God?” (Psalm 42:1-2)
I watch the ducks on the water and ponder how similar we are. To most people, I probably appear to be calm and in control. In reality, I’m paddling like a maniac to keep my head above water. Thankfully, like the duck, my Father cares for me. He loves me with an undeniable, reckless, faithful kind of love. He keeps me afloat.
What can keep me from worshipping Him with all my heart, mind, and strength? Only me. Oh sure, I can blame people and demons, but the truth is, it’s only me that gets in the way. My selfish spirit, my narcissistic focus, my sinful nature. The old me.
“What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God – through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:24-25)
I'm learning a lot about worship. I'm not talking about standing in church and singing songs of praise (though that clearly can be a form of worship). I'm talking about the worship Jesus described to the Samaritan woman at the well, worshipping in spirit and in truth. I'm talking about the kind of worship Paul described in Romans, spiritual acts of worship with our bodies.
I've been spending some time this week in Winona, MN. Winona is a beautiful city situated between the bluffs and the Mississippi River. There is a beautiful park by a lake, which faces the bluffs. It's one of my favorite places to hang out, and one of those special places where I sense God's presence.
Today I committed to spending one hour in silence at this park to hear from God and write down whatever came to my mind. Here is part of what I recorded today:
The lake is a place of worship. Everything here worships God. The wildflowers bow down before His majesty. Tree branches and waves dance to the music of the wind. The birds sing under the care of their God.
People come here to refresh body and mind in the presence of His created beauty. They may think of this place as an escape, but I prefer to see it as a place to run to.
“As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God. My soul thirst for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God?” (Psalm 42:1-2)
I watch the ducks on the water and ponder how similar we are. To most people, I probably appear to be calm and in control. In reality, I’m paddling like a maniac to keep my head above water. Thankfully, like the duck, my Father cares for me. He loves me with an undeniable, reckless, faithful kind of love. He keeps me afloat.
What can keep me from worshipping Him with all my heart, mind, and strength? Only me. Oh sure, I can blame people and demons, but the truth is, it’s only me that gets in the way. My selfish spirit, my narcissistic focus, my sinful nature. The old me.
“What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God – through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:24-25)
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
God's faithfulness never disappoints
Funny how art imitates life. Tonight I was watching an episode of "Frasier." The main character, Frasier Crane, talked about how you not only love your children, but you fall in love with your children. How true.
And you don't even realize how much you are in love with your children until they leave you. I remember Jeremy moving away to go to college. I dreaded the summer weeks when Kelsey would leave for camp. And this week, Emma is spending time with her grandmother. Absence definitely makes the heart grow fonder.
Remember how, when you were in love with someone, you wanted nothing more than for them to be happy? How you loved to make them smile? Emma sent me a picture message tonight, via the cell phone, of her smiling. How could I ask for anything more in life? :)
I remember this summer just three years ago. My father had passed away a few months before, as well as a beloved aunt and uncle and a nephew. My dog, just 4 years old, was sick with terminal cancer. No one in this house was smiling. I clung to this Scripture with all my heart: "Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring up." (Psalm 71:20)
Tonight was a reminder of the faithfulness of God. He has restored my life from the depths. "I will praise you with the harp for your faithfulness, O my God; I will sing praise to you with the lyre, O Holy One of Israel. My lips will shout for joy when I sing praise to you- I, whom you have redeemed." (Psalm 71:22-23)
And you don't even realize how much you are in love with your children until they leave you. I remember Jeremy moving away to go to college. I dreaded the summer weeks when Kelsey would leave for camp. And this week, Emma is spending time with her grandmother. Absence definitely makes the heart grow fonder.
Remember how, when you were in love with someone, you wanted nothing more than for them to be happy? How you loved to make them smile? Emma sent me a picture message tonight, via the cell phone, of her smiling. How could I ask for anything more in life? :)
I remember this summer just three years ago. My father had passed away a few months before, as well as a beloved aunt and uncle and a nephew. My dog, just 4 years old, was sick with terminal cancer. No one in this house was smiling. I clung to this Scripture with all my heart: "Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring up." (Psalm 71:20)
Tonight was a reminder of the faithfulness of God. He has restored my life from the depths. "I will praise you with the harp for your faithfulness, O my God; I will sing praise to you with the lyre, O Holy One of Israel. My lips will shout for joy when I sing praise to you- I, whom you have redeemed." (Psalm 71:22-23)
Thursday, July 01, 2010
At least I'm not crazy
It started with a devotional in the morning:
"I am life and light in abundance. As you spend time "soaking" in My Presence, you are energized and lightened. Through communing with Me, you transfer your heavy burdens to My strong shoulders. By gazing at Me, you gain My perspective on your life. This time alone with Me is essential for unscrambling your thoughts and smoothing out the day before you. Be willing to fight for this precious time with Me. " (from "Jesus Calling" by Sarah Young)
A little later, during a beautiful morning walk with the dog, I began meditating on a time in my life when God saved me from a dangerous, tempting situation, one I had placed myself in. I began to recall other times in my life when God had rescued me and protected me from consequences I should have suffered. I was in awe of His mercy.
Then I began to wonder at the things He has given me that I do not deserve. Family, friends, health, generous provision of every sort. I earned none of it, and in light of my previous thoughts, I deserved the opposite. I was in the grasp of His love, and there is no better place to be.
I went about my day and my to-do list, and as the day wore on, frustrations began to mount. People and computers and animals...none of them were conforming to the plans I had for my day. I found myself snapping unfairly at loved ones, when words from the devotional floated back into my brain: "transfer your heavy burdens", "unscrambling your thoughts and smoothing out the day", "be willing to fight for this".
Looking at my never-ending list of chores, it seemed crazy to take more time away from work. Nothing would ever get done! But I decided to fight. I found the only sure room in the house to be quiet (bathroom) and hid myself away. I began to pray and pour out all my irritations and worries, and I was amazed at how many there were! No wonder my mind was so muddled and unable to accomplish anything! When I had finished, I didn't have any answers. I felt better though. Yet, I was still not ready to go "back out there."
I reached over and picked up one of my favorite books, "Crazy Love" by Francis Chan, which I'm reading for the third time. I picked up where I had left off, and this is what it said: "If one person "wastes" away his day by spending hours connecting with God, and the other person believes he is too busy or has better things to do than worship the Creator and Sustainer, who is the crazy one?"
If anyone in my family happened to be walking past the bathroom at that point, they heard me laugh out loud. As if I hadn't realized the fullness of His love that morning, I was now being treated to a combination of blessing and humor from the God of the universe. We will always be blessed by coming into His presence.
God, thank you! At least I know I'm not crazy!
"I am life and light in abundance. As you spend time "soaking" in My Presence, you are energized and lightened. Through communing with Me, you transfer your heavy burdens to My strong shoulders. By gazing at Me, you gain My perspective on your life. This time alone with Me is essential for unscrambling your thoughts and smoothing out the day before you. Be willing to fight for this precious time with Me. " (from "Jesus Calling" by Sarah Young)
A little later, during a beautiful morning walk with the dog, I began meditating on a time in my life when God saved me from a dangerous, tempting situation, one I had placed myself in. I began to recall other times in my life when God had rescued me and protected me from consequences I should have suffered. I was in awe of His mercy.
Then I began to wonder at the things He has given me that I do not deserve. Family, friends, health, generous provision of every sort. I earned none of it, and in light of my previous thoughts, I deserved the opposite. I was in the grasp of His love, and there is no better place to be.
I went about my day and my to-do list, and as the day wore on, frustrations began to mount. People and computers and animals...none of them were conforming to the plans I had for my day. I found myself snapping unfairly at loved ones, when words from the devotional floated back into my brain: "transfer your heavy burdens", "unscrambling your thoughts and smoothing out the day", "be willing to fight for this".
Looking at my never-ending list of chores, it seemed crazy to take more time away from work. Nothing would ever get done! But I decided to fight. I found the only sure room in the house to be quiet (bathroom) and hid myself away. I began to pray and pour out all my irritations and worries, and I was amazed at how many there were! No wonder my mind was so muddled and unable to accomplish anything! When I had finished, I didn't have any answers. I felt better though. Yet, I was still not ready to go "back out there."
I reached over and picked up one of my favorite books, "Crazy Love" by Francis Chan, which I'm reading for the third time. I picked up where I had left off, and this is what it said: "If one person "wastes" away his day by spending hours connecting with God, and the other person believes he is too busy or has better things to do than worship the Creator and Sustainer, who is the crazy one?"
If anyone in my family happened to be walking past the bathroom at that point, they heard me laugh out loud. As if I hadn't realized the fullness of His love that morning, I was now being treated to a combination of blessing and humor from the God of the universe. We will always be blessed by coming into His presence.
God, thank you! At least I know I'm not crazy!
Monday, June 21, 2010
Do my contributions to the world matter?
“I listened to Skillet during my run this morning,” Dan said. “But they just don’t do it for me anymore.”
A discussion about music, and my husband’s comment in particular, got my wheels turning about the contributions we make to the world while we are here. At first, I was a little offended for Skillet. I mean, they are a great band whose songs have impacted me at times in the last several years.
Then it occurred to me that most songs have a season in my life. They have meaning because of what I’m experiencing at the time. I can listen to them years later and still enjoy them but not be as affected by them.
I thought, “How depressing for music artists! They present these songs out of their own passion, and think of how few continue to move people for decades, years or even months?”
This led me to think about my own shared gifts. People have told me they were influenced by things I wrote, but I never stopped to think how long that influence lasts. It is most likely short-lived.
Does it matter? Should we stop producing because there’s no longevity to it?
Consider the farmer. He labors over his fields, tending to them with care and passion, just as artists pour themselves into a song or a painting. After weeks or months of hard work, he produces a crop which is then consumed, and his influence lasted minutes, at best. And yet that influence was crucial; it was necessary nutrition.
As artists, I think we should view our work like that of a farmer. We produce a crop, and it is consumed. Some will enjoy it; some will not. Some will be fed with nutrients for their soul. Or maybe it was intended for just one person. Either way, it is life-giving and important, if only for a short season.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Sunday Morning: A God Adventure
| I had two choices yesterday morning. One was to go to church, as I always do on Sunday mornings. And that is precisely what I wanted to do. We have a fabulous new preacher whose messages have been powerful for me lately. I didn't want to miss that! However, my best friend was participating in her first triathlon, and she had invited me to watch. I knew she wanted me to be there, so I started praying about where God wanted me to be. When the alarm went off in the morning, I did NOT want to get up. I was bone tired, yet I could not go back to sleep. Something (or more likely Someone) was nagging me to get up. So I got up and got ready, but I was moving slowly. I had aimed to get out the door by 6:45, but it was almost 7 when I did. Heading down the road, I realized I forgot my coffee at home...catastrophe! So I took a slight detour to McDonald's to grab some much needed caffeine. One of my daughter's friends was working the drive thru window. No one was behind me - not very many people up at that hour on Sundays, I guess - so we had to chat for a bit. I was already running late, and it now appeared doubtful that I would get there before the start time. I recently burned copies of our new pastor's sermons on CDs, so I popped one in on the way. My spirits were lifted by the time I arrived, only to find I would have to park at least 1/2 mile away, and it was raining. It was almost 7:30, and I knew if I ran to the park, I *might* get to see my friend before she got in the water. I prayed again for direction and felt compelled to sit in the car and listen to the rest of the sermon. So I did, which took about 10 minutes, and by then the rain had stopped. I made my way to the park, thinking it would be impossible for me to find anyone I knew in the crowd of people, and dreading the thought of watching alone. God took care of it. The first people I saw were my friend's daughters and in-laws. I enjoyed their company, and we had a lot of fun cheering and entertaining ourselves. Shortly after we got there, my friend came out of the water. She lit up when she saw me, and immediately I was glad I went. When she had finished the triathlon, she hugged me and started crying. She said it meant so much to her that I came. I apologized for not being there before it started, and she said, "Oh, I'm so glad you weren't! I was so emotional, I would have bawled if I saw you!" God knew. By the time I got back to my car, I thought I might still be able to make it to church. I would probably be a little late, but I could slip in and stand in the back, and still hear the sermon at least. I don't know why, but my car didn't head that direction. I pulled out of my parking spot and was mentally thinking, I have to turn around to go back the way I came. But for some weird reason, I didn't. I started heading out of town on a road I didn't know. It just looked really pretty, and I thought, well maybe I'll just take an exploratory drive. Now, you have to understand, this is SO not me. I have no sense of direction, I did not have a GPS or a map, and I had no clue where this road was going to take me. This is terribly uncharacteristic of me, and I'm still a little surprised at myself. I popped in another sermon and drove. I was ridiculously rewarded by the view. Stunning. Weaving through the hills, there were gorgeous views on every side of me. I started winding up one very high hill with tight turns and steep inclines. I had no idea where I was going, but I was sure enjoying the ride. At the top of the hill, the road narrowed to a very tight spot between basically two walls of rock. It was really cool but a little scary! At that moment, I recalled hearing something about a place called the Mindoro Cut. Apparently that's where I was because eventually I ended up in Mindoro. There I saw a sign for County Road D. I thought, hmmmm, I'm not sure, but I think County Road D goes into Holmen. I turned onto it and was soon on familiar roads. I pulled into my driveway just as the second sermon was ending on my CD player. I had read a devotional that morning before leaving home. It was about joy, particularly the joy found in His presence. I figured that meant I was supposed to go to church. Obviously, I enjoyed His presence everywhere else I went. I'm not quite sure how to describe how He directed me, or maybe it was that I wasn't trying so hard but just going with the flow. The word "freedom" kept popping into my head on the drive. Not sure what I'm learning right now, really, but I have to say, the morning was a great adventure. |
Thursday, June 10, 2010
I'm baaaaaack!
Obviously I haven't blogged for QUITE awhile, but I'm hoping with a renewed focus (accompanied by a schedule and people to hold me accountable to it), I can write here more often. I won't promise every day, since I'm also continuing to blog at PARENtEEN.
Today's topic: Acting Our Age
The Bible instructs us to have faith like a child.
Recent observations of women, including myself, reveals most of us acting like children, rather than exhibiting childlike faith. When we don't get our way, we whine and cry and stomp off to complain to the first person who will listen. Figuratively, we cross our arms and pout, effectively shutting out any real work God could do in our situation.
Why is our first instinct always to throw up our hands in despair? Why do we take our anxieties to Facebook before taking them to the Throne of the One who is willing to work things out for our good?
One of Job's friends rightly asked, "Can you fathom the mysteries of God? Can you probe the limits of the Almighty?" (Job 11:7) Certainly God is more than capable of handling our puny little problems.
The only reasonable conclusion I am able to come to is that we simply don't trust God, and trust is the cornerstone of childlike faith.
I don't have any answers about how to turn my temper tantrums into moving mountains, so for now, I'll just be thankful for a patient, gentle Father who loves me unconditionally. But if any of you have wisdom to share, let's hear it!
Today's topic: Acting Our Age
The Bible instructs us to have faith like a child.
Recent observations of women, including myself, reveals most of us acting like children, rather than exhibiting childlike faith. When we don't get our way, we whine and cry and stomp off to complain to the first person who will listen. Figuratively, we cross our arms and pout, effectively shutting out any real work God could do in our situation.
Why is our first instinct always to throw up our hands in despair? Why do we take our anxieties to Facebook before taking them to the Throne of the One who is willing to work things out for our good?
One of Job's friends rightly asked, "Can you fathom the mysteries of God? Can you probe the limits of the Almighty?" (Job 11:7) Certainly God is more than capable of handling our puny little problems.
The only reasonable conclusion I am able to come to is that we simply don't trust God, and trust is the cornerstone of childlike faith.
I don't have any answers about how to turn my temper tantrums into moving mountains, so for now, I'll just be thankful for a patient, gentle Father who loves me unconditionally. But if any of you have wisdom to share, let's hear it!
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Living a centered life - Part 2
Day 2 of Forest Lakes Districts Youth Conference in Green Bay began with a total of 6 hours of sleep behind me. Woo hoo! That's actually a lot based on my experiences in prior years. I was blessed with a lovely trio of girls in my room, who unselfishly gave me a bed to myself and respected my wish for lights off at 1 a.m.
I also had a great group of young ladies in my small group. Sometimes it can be difficult to get middle school girls to discuss things beyond the superficial, but these girls seem to have a real desire to live for Christ. They are also honest about their struggles and want to know how to change. Not the norm in middle school girl world, so I'm excited to see this.
Another rally kicked off the morning with gut-busting laughter courtesy of comedian Daren Streblow. I highly recommend you check out his videos on YouTube. The guy is not only funny but incredibly nice. I saw him hanging out and talking to kids all weekend.
We heard another great message from Bill Allison about making Jesus the center of our lives, not just a piece. He drew a pie chart with a circle in the middle, and wrote Jesus inside the circle. The other "slices" were things like school, friends, work, sports, etc. When Jesus is in the center, we can then allow Him to influence every area of our lives. He also taught us (with actions) Colossians 3:23, which was the centerpiece verse for the weekend. "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men." He called it living the C323 life, and he illustrated how this looks with examples from playing football or volleyball. Working at whatever we do full throttle, but doing it for the glory of God, not the glory of man.
The afternoon began with a middle school rally, complete with a HIGH energy worship (never seen middle schoolers worship that way before! Wow!) and a "So You Think You Can Dance" contest. The comedian was one of the judges, so you can imagine the entertainment value. One of my girls, Nora, was chosen to compete in the dance competition. She didn't win, but she represented well!
Saturday afternoon offered a number of options for the kids. Some attended workshops, many went to the mall, and I imagine a couple took a nap. Kelsey and I spent some time in the booth, talking to kids and handing out more clothespins.
Saturday night was the "main event", so to speak. Bill Allison shared his personal testimony, which included a story about nearly being murdered at the age of 7, along with his mother and sister, by his alcoholic stepfather. Through a series of incredible events that could only have been orchestrated by a mighty and loving God, his mother became a believer. But I think it was his own moment of salvation in high school that really connected with the kids. He had been attending church with his mother but had this notion that you didn't really become a Christian until you were an adult. He believed that because he didn't know of any other Christians his age. One day in school, again through an almost eery chain of events, he encountered two young men (although through his description, sounded a lot like angels to me) who delivered the message of the Gospel and led him to salvation in Christ.
He went on to share of nearly giving up on his faith - twice. Both times, God pulled him back in the most extraordinary ways. He shared how God had broken the curse of alcoholism that had been in his family for generations. Not only was he the first in his family to graduate high school and college, he became an English teacher, then a youth pastor, and is now a missionary (and he joked about having all those high-paying jobs). :)
After sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ, he asked all the youth leaders in the room to stand. He told the kids they have no idea how much these people love them and sacrifice just to be with them. He then asked that any wanted to give their lives to Christ for the first time to go to one of their leaders and pray with them. I had the privilege of praying with two young ladies, one from my small group.
Then he asked that anyone who was already a believer but wanted to commit themselves to living a centered life to stand. Nearly the entire room stood. Wow. Over 3200 young people across the state of Wisconsin are now striving to live full out for God. I dare say we will see from fruit from that!
As we went into worship in song to celebrate, I glanced over and saw my daughter, Emma. She was in tears. She looked at me and walked over to where I was. She asked if we could talk in the hall. When we got out there, she hugged me and began to weep. I asked if she was OK. She replied, "Yes, I'm just so happy! For the first time in my life, I really know God is real, and He is here!" Then she said there was something else. "I think God is calling me to be a missionary!" Another 'wow' moment for me. She was so excited, she was ready to get on a plane for Panama right then. I encouraged to start with our neighborhood as her first mission field, and we'll take it from there.
As the evening wound down, I felt the effects of the day: a physically exhausted body and mind, but a spirit that was still celebrating. After tending to some girl drama, I returned to my "rock-starred" room, found my pillow, and passed out. Ah, God is good.
I also had a great group of young ladies in my small group. Sometimes it can be difficult to get middle school girls to discuss things beyond the superficial, but these girls seem to have a real desire to live for Christ. They are also honest about their struggles and want to know how to change. Not the norm in middle school girl world, so I'm excited to see this.
Another rally kicked off the morning with gut-busting laughter courtesy of comedian Daren Streblow. I highly recommend you check out his videos on YouTube. The guy is not only funny but incredibly nice. I saw him hanging out and talking to kids all weekend.
We heard another great message from Bill Allison about making Jesus the center of our lives, not just a piece. He drew a pie chart with a circle in the middle, and wrote Jesus inside the circle. The other "slices" were things like school, friends, work, sports, etc. When Jesus is in the center, we can then allow Him to influence every area of our lives. He also taught us (with actions) Colossians 3:23, which was the centerpiece verse for the weekend. "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men." He called it living the C323 life, and he illustrated how this looks with examples from playing football or volleyball. Working at whatever we do full throttle, but doing it for the glory of God, not the glory of man.
The afternoon began with a middle school rally, complete with a HIGH energy worship (never seen middle schoolers worship that way before! Wow!) and a "So You Think You Can Dance" contest. The comedian was one of the judges, so you can imagine the entertainment value. One of my girls, Nora, was chosen to compete in the dance competition. She didn't win, but she represented well!
Saturday afternoon offered a number of options for the kids. Some attended workshops, many went to the mall, and I imagine a couple took a nap. Kelsey and I spent some time in the booth, talking to kids and handing out more clothespins.
Saturday night was the "main event", so to speak. Bill Allison shared his personal testimony, which included a story about nearly being murdered at the age of 7, along with his mother and sister, by his alcoholic stepfather. Through a series of incredible events that could only have been orchestrated by a mighty and loving God, his mother became a believer. But I think it was his own moment of salvation in high school that really connected with the kids. He had been attending church with his mother but had this notion that you didn't really become a Christian until you were an adult. He believed that because he didn't know of any other Christians his age. One day in school, again through an almost eery chain of events, he encountered two young men (although through his description, sounded a lot like angels to me) who delivered the message of the Gospel and led him to salvation in Christ.
He went on to share of nearly giving up on his faith - twice. Both times, God pulled him back in the most extraordinary ways. He shared how God had broken the curse of alcoholism that had been in his family for generations. Not only was he the first in his family to graduate high school and college, he became an English teacher, then a youth pastor, and is now a missionary (and he joked about having all those high-paying jobs). :)
After sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ, he asked all the youth leaders in the room to stand. He told the kids they have no idea how much these people love them and sacrifice just to be with them. He then asked that any wanted to give their lives to Christ for the first time to go to one of their leaders and pray with them. I had the privilege of praying with two young ladies, one from my small group.
Then he asked that anyone who was already a believer but wanted to commit themselves to living a centered life to stand. Nearly the entire room stood. Wow. Over 3200 young people across the state of Wisconsin are now striving to live full out for God. I dare say we will see from fruit from that!
As we went into worship in song to celebrate, I glanced over and saw my daughter, Emma. She was in tears. She looked at me and walked over to where I was. She asked if we could talk in the hall. When we got out there, she hugged me and began to weep. I asked if she was OK. She replied, "Yes, I'm just so happy! For the first time in my life, I really know God is real, and He is here!" Then she said there was something else. "I think God is calling me to be a missionary!" Another 'wow' moment for me. She was so excited, she was ready to get on a plane for Panama right then. I encouraged to start with our neighborhood as her first mission field, and we'll take it from there.
As the evening wound down, I felt the effects of the day: a physically exhausted body and mind, but a spirit that was still celebrating. After tending to some girl drama, I returned to my "rock-starred" room, found my pillow, and passed out. Ah, God is good.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Living a centered life - Part 1
I spent the past weekend at a youth conference in Green Bay with 3200 middle school and high school students. I've been to many similar conferences over the years, and they are always well worth the price I pay in sleep deprivation and exhaustion!
This year was no exception. I believe every adult should experience worship in such a setting at least once in their lives! The energy, the obvious presence of the Lord, and the sweet spirit of kinship among young people is really unique. It's really difficult to describe. If you ever get a chance to be a part of something like that, don't miss out.
I started journaling the first day I was there, deciding I would blog the experience in three parts. So here we go - day one:
Getting here was not easy. The past week has been filled with spiritual attacks - interrupted sleep due to a variety of unusual reasons, a sick dog, recurring sickness of my own, an exploding kitchen sink (yes, I said exploding), and a snowstorm which threatened travel plans. I sensed the enemy did not want me to go, which (to me) meant God was about to do great and mighty things. The attacks actually served to solidify my resolve to go, so I called in all my prayer warriors. After a brief delay Friday morning, we headed out for Green Bay. Thank you, prayer warriors - the roads were dry as a bone!
Upon arrival to the convention center, we found our booth and quickly set things up. I was surprised to find we had been given a booth in an excellent location. I expected to be stuck in a corner somewhere, since they were providing the booth for free! The director of the conference came by and introduced himself, giving me an opportunity to gush some words of thanks. He seemed excited that we were there, and that was encouraging.
After the First Free bus arrived with the rest of the kids and leaders, there was no time to relax. I was immediately met by several girls who wanted to switch rooms. Unfortunately I had to tell them "no", since we (leaders) had determined to not allow any switching, and instead rely on God's providence in placing them in the rooms they were in. I hated that my first words to them were negative, but they seemed to get over it quickly enough.
Following the chaos of checking into rooms, we headed back to the convention center. The booth was already surrounded by enthusiastic kids, all anxious to get these crazy clothespins we had designed. The clothespins had the website for our book's blog on one side, and we had written "Don't Freak Out!" on the other side (the name of the book). We had gotten the idea for the clothespins as a promotional tool from a band we met at Sonshine last summer. We had optimistically made 1700 of them, assuming we would have plenty left over to use in other places. Wrong! The clothespins became the hot item of the conference. All the kids wanted them, and they loved trying to sneak them on other people. They found the most creative way to wear them, too. Everywhere you went all weekend, you would see people with clothespins attached in various places. We ended up having to ration them in order to have enough for the whole weekend.
Before the night's first rally, I checked on all of the girls in my small group. We dealt with a lost wallet, improper swimwear, headaches, tiredness and homesickness. And yes, we had only been there a few hours! My thought was, "Wait a minute. Why did I agree to do this?" :)
The rally was thought-provoking and high energy. Rockin' worship with Floodgate Alive and an inspiring (and funny) message from Bill Allison. He defined what it means to live a centered life. The Scripture was Mark 12:28-31, Jesus' response to the question about the greatest commandment. Bill talked about how it is easier for us to love God than it is to love others, but that the Christian walk must include both. Loving God is the vertical line in the cross, loving people is the horizontal.
In our small group later, we all agreed that it is definitely easier to love God than others. I asked the girls to think of the most annoying person in their lives right now, and to think of some way to show love to that person next week. Then I asked them how they could love one another in their room tonight, knowing full well there would otherwise be arguments over bathroom time, sleeping arrangements, and temperature controls.
That was as much as I could get out of my girls for the night. They were far too wound up (and sugared up), and their main goal for the evening was to go back to the convention center to listen to a band. Fortunately, they were back in their rooms on time, so I knew I had some responsible girls. Of course, they had to tell me how cute the guys were in the band. *sigh*
The girls in my room graciously gave me a bed all to myself, which may have been due to the fact that I warned them about my snoring. Either way, I am thankful. Good night.
This year was no exception. I believe every adult should experience worship in such a setting at least once in their lives! The energy, the obvious presence of the Lord, and the sweet spirit of kinship among young people is really unique. It's really difficult to describe. If you ever get a chance to be a part of something like that, don't miss out.
I started journaling the first day I was there, deciding I would blog the experience in three parts. So here we go - day one:
Getting here was not easy. The past week has been filled with spiritual attacks - interrupted sleep due to a variety of unusual reasons, a sick dog, recurring sickness of my own, an exploding kitchen sink (yes, I said exploding), and a snowstorm which threatened travel plans. I sensed the enemy did not want me to go, which (to me) meant God was about to do great and mighty things. The attacks actually served to solidify my resolve to go, so I called in all my prayer warriors. After a brief delay Friday morning, we headed out for Green Bay. Thank you, prayer warriors - the roads were dry as a bone!
Upon arrival to the convention center, we found our booth and quickly set things up. I was surprised to find we had been given a booth in an excellent location. I expected to be stuck in a corner somewhere, since they were providing the booth for free! The director of the conference came by and introduced himself, giving me an opportunity to gush some words of thanks. He seemed excited that we were there, and that was encouraging.
After the First Free bus arrived with the rest of the kids and leaders, there was no time to relax. I was immediately met by several girls who wanted to switch rooms. Unfortunately I had to tell them "no", since we (leaders) had determined to not allow any switching, and instead rely on God's providence in placing them in the rooms they were in. I hated that my first words to them were negative, but they seemed to get over it quickly enough.
Following the chaos of checking into rooms, we headed back to the convention center. The booth was already surrounded by enthusiastic kids, all anxious to get these crazy clothespins we had designed. The clothespins had the website for our book's blog on one side, and we had written "Don't Freak Out!" on the other side (the name of the book). We had gotten the idea for the clothespins as a promotional tool from a band we met at Sonshine last summer. We had optimistically made 1700 of them, assuming we would have plenty left over to use in other places. Wrong! The clothespins became the hot item of the conference. All the kids wanted them, and they loved trying to sneak them on other people. They found the most creative way to wear them, too. Everywhere you went all weekend, you would see people with clothespins attached in various places. We ended up having to ration them in order to have enough for the whole weekend.
Before the night's first rally, I checked on all of the girls in my small group. We dealt with a lost wallet, improper swimwear, headaches, tiredness and homesickness. And yes, we had only been there a few hours! My thought was, "Wait a minute. Why did I agree to do this?" :)
The rally was thought-provoking and high energy. Rockin' worship with Floodgate Alive and an inspiring (and funny) message from Bill Allison. He defined what it means to live a centered life. The Scripture was Mark 12:28-31, Jesus' response to the question about the greatest commandment. Bill talked about how it is easier for us to love God than it is to love others, but that the Christian walk must include both. Loving God is the vertical line in the cross, loving people is the horizontal.
In our small group later, we all agreed that it is definitely easier to love God than others. I asked the girls to think of the most annoying person in their lives right now, and to think of some way to show love to that person next week. Then I asked them how they could love one another in their room tonight, knowing full well there would otherwise be arguments over bathroom time, sleeping arrangements, and temperature controls.
That was as much as I could get out of my girls for the night. They were far too wound up (and sugared up), and their main goal for the evening was to go back to the convention center to listen to a band. Fortunately, they were back in their rooms on time, so I knew I had some responsible girls. Of course, they had to tell me how cute the guys were in the band. *sigh*
The girls in my room graciously gave me a bed all to myself, which may have been due to the fact that I warned them about my snoring. Either way, I am thankful. Good night.
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Snow: A Different Perspective
If you are like many people here in the upper Midwest, you are a little sick of snow right now. I am often teased about my love of snow, but I offer that it's all in the way you look at it. Below is a little devo I wrote last year about this time. I hope it gives you a fresh perspective as the flakes swirl around today.
SNOW: A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE
"Come now, let us reason together," says the Lord. "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.” Isaiah 1:18 (NIV)
I’ve always loved snow. Growing up in Minnesota, there was plenty of snow. I loved to watch those beautiful, magical flakes falling from the sky. It meant going outside to make snowmen , forts and snow angels, playing football with my brothers, and having snowball fights. It often meant school was cancelled, and sometimes the snow would literally trap us in our house for a couple of days. When that happened, we would have marathon Monopoly games, ping-pong tournaments, and card games. Being “snowed in” was a treasured family memory for me.
I still love snow, even though now it means shoveling and driving in it. We’ve had a lot of snow this winter. This morning, as I watched it fall, I marveled again at its beauty. The flurries pouring down from the sky were enchanting, calling me into a deep connection with the Creator of all. I watched in wonder as God poured out fresh mercy over the earth, and I discovered an amazing link that drew me closer to Him. As I considered the qualities of snow, God drew me a picture of redemption.
In order for snow to fall, you need two things: cold air and moisture. It’s easier for sin to creep in when we are cold and lonely; we are tempted to run to false gods for warmth. When that happens, we often feel the consequences of our actions. Sometimes that looks like a torrential downpour of moisture into our lives.
As the snow approaches the earth, you notice that each flake is unique, and each one knows just where it is to land. Each one of us is unique, and God sends just exactly what we need, when we need it.
In case you haven’t noticed, snow is white. When there is fresh blanket of snow on the ground, everything looks clean and fresh. It has a pure, cleansing quality. God’s forgiveness has this same effect in our lives.
Another quality of snow is that is helps prepare the ground for spring. As the sun begins to melt away the snow, the earth is dampened and provides fertile ground for seeds to be planted. As we receive His mercy, God prepares our hearts for the new things He wants to do in us.
Sometimes there are after effects to the snow. The roads become slippery and hazardous. When we are convicted of our sin and ask forgiveness, we sometimes forget the act of repentance. If we don’t turn away from our wrong actions, the road will soon become icy and difficult to navigate.
The winds will also occasionally pick up after a snowfall. Sometimes the white stuff is blown around so much you can hardly see two feet in front of you. Satan loves to blow in after we’ve had a great victory over sin and try to blind us from the direction God wants to take us.
Finally, it’s important to remember that it’s usually still cold after the snow arrives. We may still feel a little lost and lonely, but if we choose the right source of warmth, the spring will soon come.
“Wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.” Psalm 51:7b
SNOW: A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE
"Come now, let us reason together," says the Lord. "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.” Isaiah 1:18 (NIV)
I’ve always loved snow. Growing up in Minnesota, there was plenty of snow. I loved to watch those beautiful, magical flakes falling from the sky. It meant going outside to make snowmen , forts and snow angels, playing football with my brothers, and having snowball fights. It often meant school was cancelled, and sometimes the snow would literally trap us in our house for a couple of days. When that happened, we would have marathon Monopoly games, ping-pong tournaments, and card games. Being “snowed in” was a treasured family memory for me.
I still love snow, even though now it means shoveling and driving in it. We’ve had a lot of snow this winter. This morning, as I watched it fall, I marveled again at its beauty. The flurries pouring down from the sky were enchanting, calling me into a deep connection with the Creator of all. I watched in wonder as God poured out fresh mercy over the earth, and I discovered an amazing link that drew me closer to Him. As I considered the qualities of snow, God drew me a picture of redemption.
In order for snow to fall, you need two things: cold air and moisture. It’s easier for sin to creep in when we are cold and lonely; we are tempted to run to false gods for warmth. When that happens, we often feel the consequences of our actions. Sometimes that looks like a torrential downpour of moisture into our lives.
As the snow approaches the earth, you notice that each flake is unique, and each one knows just where it is to land. Each one of us is unique, and God sends just exactly what we need, when we need it.
In case you haven’t noticed, snow is white. When there is fresh blanket of snow on the ground, everything looks clean and fresh. It has a pure, cleansing quality. God’s forgiveness has this same effect in our lives.
Another quality of snow is that is helps prepare the ground for spring. As the sun begins to melt away the snow, the earth is dampened and provides fertile ground for seeds to be planted. As we receive His mercy, God prepares our hearts for the new things He wants to do in us.
Sometimes there are after effects to the snow. The roads become slippery and hazardous. When we are convicted of our sin and ask forgiveness, we sometimes forget the act of repentance. If we don’t turn away from our wrong actions, the road will soon become icy and difficult to navigate.
The winds will also occasionally pick up after a snowfall. Sometimes the white stuff is blown around so much you can hardly see two feet in front of you. Satan loves to blow in after we’ve had a great victory over sin and try to blind us from the direction God wants to take us.
Finally, it’s important to remember that it’s usually still cold after the snow arrives. We may still feel a little lost and lonely, but if we choose the right source of warmth, the spring will soon come.
“Wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.” Psalm 51:7b
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