Jessie Irwin...............Life is Full of Joy

Strong, Fierce Love

2010-02-19T14:16:00.008-05:00

Strong, Fierce Love

I may never know

How many hopeless hearts surround me;

I may never know

How many thirsty souls for God.

I may never know

Of their silent isolation -

Desperate for peace,

Desperate for love.

I may never know

Of the wilderness they've travelled;

I may never know

Of the danger that they face.

I may never know

Of their private desolation -

Desperate for mercy,

Desperate for grace.

Lord, fill me with Your love that is fierce.

Saturate me with Holy Love

That is able to pierce

Through the darkness and pain,

Bringing healing again

To an empty heart that's calling for You.

Lord, I am a vessel to use

For the purposes that no one else

But You can choose.

Lavishly pour,

Fill me up more and more,

With Your strong, fierce love.

jsi

Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge

between us and Christ's love for us?

There is no way!!

Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture. None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I am absolutely convinced that nothing - nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable - absolutely nothing can get between us and God's love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.

Romans 8:35-39 The Message

Lord, Please Hold Me While You Show Me

2009-07-24T14:32:00.000-04:00

Lord, please hold me

While You show me

Your Will

Amid this circumstance that I don’t understand.

Father, hold me,

While You show me

Your action –

For this all seems so chaotic and unplanned.

I’m all alone, it’s so dark:

Please shine Your light

So I can see.

I’m clinging tight with both hands -

I need to feel Your presence,

To hear Your gentle guarantee

That You will hold me

While You show me

That You are good,

Your love surrounds the whole;

Father, hold me

While You show me

That You are ever, always in control.

jsi

“And we know that all things work together for good to those that love God, to those who are the called according to His purposes.”
Romans 8:28( NKJV)

“Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good, His love endures forever.” Psalm 118:1 (NKJV)

Pure, Honest Love

2009-02-15T20:20:00.001-05:00

Not everything that can be counted counts.
Not everything that counts can be counted. ~ Albert Einstein

A man’s character may be learned from the adjectives which he habitually uses in conversation. ~ Mark Twain

It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points our how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; Credit belongs to the man who errs and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcomings. But who does actually strive to do the deed, who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at worst, if he fails, he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat. ~Theodore Roosevelt

A dog is not considered a good dog because he is a good barker. A man is not considered a good man because he is a good talker. ~ Buddha

Pure Honest Love

The pure, honest love of a pure, honest man
Changes generations.

Pure, honest men devote themselves to the hard task
To make broken things beautiful,
To make crooked things straight,
To encourage and nurture
They build, they create.

Pure, honest men nurture stability
In the midst of chaos,
Despite the shadow of danger;
With the company of a friend,
For the eyes of a stranger.

Pure, honest men use their strength generously
Not for themselves, to gain trophies and awards
They use their strength protecting sisters and brothers.
Strong men take care of themselves, it is true, but,
Stronger men take care of others.

Pure, honest men give and give and give
One father devotes himself to his daughter
Nurturing her inner beauty;
In turn when she is a mother
Her son receives the touch of his duty.

Pure, honest men have pure, honest love
Bringing light, balance and harmony,
Pure love seeks to heal and repair.
Bringing hope, promises and trust
Honest love does not hide from despair.

A pure honest man
Lives his life in degrees of anonymity
Lifting up another soul higher,
He doesn’t say “me” – he always says “we”;
He defends the truth - he is not a liar.

With enthusiasm, he plays;
With compassion, he prays.
Uncomplicated love he displays,
He is generous with praise.
He is transparent in his ways.

The pure, honest love of a pure, honest man
Changes generations.

jsi

Now that you have purified yourselves by obeying the truth so that you have sincere love for your brothers, love one another deeply, from the heart. 1 Peter 1:22 NIV

2009-02-02T15:35:00.001-05:00

An eye for an eye only makes the whole world blind. ~Mahatma Gandhi

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

Three eternal truths: things are not what they seem, the world is at war, and each of us has a crucial role to play. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other. ~Mother Teresa

Satan builds his strongholds in the shadow of our strengths. ~John Eldredge

The Devil is easy to identify. He appears when you're terribly tired and makes a very reasonable request which you know you shouldn't grant. ~ Fiorello La Guardia, former mayor of New York City

**DISCLAIMER...Kinda gross details specific to this cold and flu season present within this post.**

Sunday morning my oldest daughter broke family tradition. Since birth, all of my children, without exception, have had an uncanny timing of being violently ill only at 2:00 a.m. on Sunday morning. Not Monday at 11:30 a.m. so I can get them a sick appointment with the pediatrician, not Thursday at 4:30 p.m. after a majority of the day's schedule has been accomplished. Not even Sunday after lunch. Nope, Sunday 2:00 a.m.

There is frequently the need for laundry and a change of venue for sleeping, and one couch or another has been the best, and I usually find a place to sleep nearby, usually on the floor. With four children, we very easily formed a "sick routine" of what is needed (tissues/towel/bucket) a something to drink or eat (cracker/Jell-O water) and a favorite blanket. While they are getting settled, Dave and I would be making the altered plans for worship and how this was going to effect the day. Sometimes it meant having a sick child at church, or one us staying home with one or many. Whoever wasn't preaching would be the one who stayed up with the sick one(s) usually, but sometimes it has needed one of us to pull a prepared sermon or lesson plan out to cover responsibilities.

http://prairiehome.publicradio.org/programs/2007/12/01 The song The Sound of Sickness is found in this broadcast at 4minutes and 52 seconds in - very well done.

But this Sunday, A. was throwing up at 8:00 a.m. - and our concern and cleanup and plan alteration needed to happen very quickly. Getting A. settled and all things cleaned up, it was obvious to me that I was going to be sick, too. VERY SOON. I am never sick. The only times I have been queasy have been when I am pregnant.

I am not pregnant, so that isn't a part of the circumstances.

As I am hanging over the kitchen sink, I know the truth...Sick mom, sick kid - no one is going to have a single problem if I don't show up at church in leadership, yet I still feel this urgent, compelling need to be there. I am the Children Sunday School teacher, but the only children that have been in our Sunday School have been mine. "Why are you pressing my heart to do this, Lord? There won't be anyone else there. I'll just be getting other people sick if I go." But still, the compelling feeling is present. So our worship plan includes tag team and feeling very poorly, I get to church early.

And there are two new children waiting at the door, and the other adults that are there haven't met them before. As our lesson begins, their questions become very specific..."Why did God create the world?" "Did God really make the animals and people?" "Who is that man in a bathing suit bleeding on that cross?" "What is sin?" "Why can't God be around sin?" "Do I really have sin in my heart?" Needless to say, I quickly ditched my lesson plan and we began a walk down the Roman Road explaining sin, redemption and personal salvation. With two young, dirty hands holding mine, two young hearts said a prayer asking Jesus to forgive their sin and live in their heart.

I get choked up everytime I get the privilege to share Jesus with someone in this way, even more so when it is with a child. I pray that the seed of salvation and redemption is able to be planted deep, protected and nurtured in God's love. God's plan for Sunday had been in motion for weeks, and I didn't quite know it.

I had been at war all morning - war against viruses, war against germs, war against maternal instincts, war against common sense even. But it had also been spiritual warfare - there are no two ways about it. God's compelling voice was telling me He had a plan in motion. Satan is rarely the blunt, direct, transparent attacker, but rather Satan's workings are very subtle, sounding very close to good ideas when I am tired. The subtle workings of Satan tried to make sure I stayed at home, under the guise of the most loving, reasonable and understandable of reasons. I was nearly convinced that I shouldn't go to a place that God had already prepared for a different ending to the story.

When you feel the compelling, urging voice of God within your heart, listen closely and follow where He is leading you. Be strong in the Lord and in His plans for you.

Be strong in the LORD and in the power of His might. Put on the whole armor of God that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. Ephesians 6:10-11

Hope

2008-12-27T00:31:00.002-05:00

“Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow.”~ Albert Einstein

Red, (narrating):”I find I’m so excited, I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it’s the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend, and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope.” ~ Final lines from The Shawshank Redemption, based upon Stephen King’s novella Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption

“Hope is faith holding out its hand in the dark.” ~ George Iles

“Hope is the thing with feathers,
that perches in the soul,
and sings the tune without words,
and never stops at all.”
~ Emily Dickinson

“But even now there is hope left. I will not give you counsel, saying do this, or do that. For not in doing or contriving, nor in choosing between this course and another, can I avail; but only in knowing what was and is, and in part also what shall be. But this I will say to you: your Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while all the Company is true.” ~ Galadriel: The Mirror of Galadriel, Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien
Hope is my middle name.

That’s not a superlative metaphorical description of a sunny disposition, an aggressively positive personality or an exaggeration. Hope really is my middle name. It was never used much, except for by my mother and always as a pre-emptive alarm system…when I heard “Jessica Hope…” at the beginning of any sentence, I knew I better get there fast ‘cause I was in trouble or something was very important.

I always knew it was big stuff when “Hope” got involved. When Dave and I became engaged, I started looking at my name and understood that the choices I wanted to make were going to alter the way I used my name. My initials JHS were about to undergo a voluntary transformation and I spent thoughtful time just doodling my name in its many forms. Eventually, I chose to use my middle initial as from my maiden name, and created a symbol for my initials which was unique and expressive. It was working together very well until the love of my life said one thing, quite lightly and quasi-sarcastically, that stuck firm:

“If this is what you are going to do, that would make you ‘Hope-less.’”

Like the bell chiming for Rocky Balboa during his deepest point of inspiration and determination, this perspective caught me, inspired me to defend the place for hope in my life. “I will never be hopeless,” I told myself, “There will always be hope” I reminded myself with my own level of determination. And I swear there was a bell chiming in the corner as I was fixed within this cerebral contract with myself.

Hope is my middle name.

God’s presence in my life is this hope. It is a deeply aggressive hope, blood-thumping, life changing, transformational hope. Hope that looks the darkness square without wavering or cowering. Hope that brings its own first-aid kit patching up the wounds from spurious attack. Hope with muscle-bound purpose insisting ferociously “All is not lost, God is in control.” Hope that is fierce and roaring, filled with God’s power, facing impossible circumstances with divine solutions.

I have needed to draw from that well of aggressive hope more during these past 10 weeks than ever before. Several fronts within our lives collided together to create a “Perfect Storm” that decimated everything in its path. To write them all down would sound like I was exaggerating with explosive expertise. The circumstances have all been relentless, lined with live ammunition launched at us, the living, breathing, vulnerable targets.

And through this all, God has provided hope: defended hope, fortified hope, built structures with hope. God has brought hope.

Hope is my middle name.

"Now that we have been put right with God through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. He has brought us, by faith, into this experience of God's grace, in which we now live. We rejoice, then, in the hope we have of sharing God's glory! And we also rejoice in troubles, because we know that trouble produces endurance, endurance brings God's approval, and his approval creates hope. This hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by means of the Holy Spirit, who is God's gift to us.” Romans 5:1-5 TEB

Encouragement is Oxygen for the Soul

2008-11-11T08:50:00.000-05:00

“Flatter me, and I may not believe you. Criticize me, and I may not like you. Ignore me, and I may not forgive you. Encourage you, and I will not forget you.” ~ William Arthur Ward

“Correction does much, but encouragement does more.”
~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

“You need to be aware of what others are doing; applaud their efforts, acknowledge their successes, and encourage them in their pursuits. When we all help one another, everybody wins.” ~ Jim Stovall

“Taking an interest in what others are doing is often a much more powerful form of encouragement than praise.” ~ Robert Martin

“Encouragement is oxygen for the soul.” ~ Jessie Irwin

“We live by encouragement and die without it – slowly, sadly, angrily.”
~ Celeste Holm

“You are being forwarded to voicemail box, ***** can’t take this call right now. Please enjoy the music…”

As the ukulele strums I find myself singing along with *****’s waiting music, “Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly…” I am irritated to need to leave another message, but her music always makes me smile and it relieves the surface tension. I am running short on time to hear back from her before I have to make a decision without her. It’s not her fault, or mine, this communication log jam has simply developed because of our very busy schedules.

Busy is a four letter word.

I have been the queen of the answering machine lately, needing to leave messages everywhere, not just in my town. (Has it really been over 100 messages these past few days? Why am I even trying to keep a count?) The most effective way to use a message system is to leave a detailed enough message that can almost prevent someone from needing to call back. “This is what I need”, “I got your message and picked up the orange Gerbera daisies and returned the blue gardenias”, “This is where I’ll be…” “I have ### with me and will be here until 5:36.” Email and texting fill in the cracks enough that ensure I touched base, brought the right paperwork, got the right signature, etc.

Yet with all of this communication, it is telling to me how little I get to speak to a real person, in a real conversation.

I answer email while I am in Master’s Greek class, in between parsing 2nd and 3rd declension nouns, and take care of routine ministry requests (the Sunday worship bulletin for printing) with a few keystrokes and a Send command. I have been surrounded by people, more than usual, because of our increased holiday intake, crisis intervention and solution-creation, but it is their concerns and problems which occupy our time together.

Like Bilbo Baggins describes, “I feel…thin. Sort of stretched, like …butter scraped over too much bread.” (Tolkien, J.R.R. The Fellowship of the Ring)

Playing phone tag with others, them leaving a message telling me what they need, me answering back with answer/action description. All accounted for, but not a conversation. Effective – yes, but efficient? Well, decidedly not.

Last night (which included calling hours, hockey game, basketball practice) I found myself on the sidelines in a community gym and felt like the day had been very heavy. So much done, so much yet to do – and then, as if a breath of fresh air, a gift. One of N. basketball coaches also coaches baseball and talked with me for nearly 10 minutes about my children, most specifically about my sons. Not about schedules and games, but to compliment and inform me on how my boys were doing. He wanted to check about my oldest, who had a nightmare of a baseball season last year… and make sure he was doing okay. I hadn’t talked with him before; he was just aware of a level of injustice and wanted to bring some explanations (which were eye-opening) and some encouragement (which was needed). He didn’t have to say a thing, but his thoughtfulness and his generosity with his time meant so much. The day that felt so heavy was still 24 hours long with all of its same circumstances woven into it, but its weight felt so much lighter exclusively because of someone else’s encouragement.

No one ever has too much encouragement! Give encouragement to as many people around you as possible. Encouragement is like a cool drink of water to someone who is incredibly thirsty. You may not even realize how thirsty that person actually is. We are rarely in a situation where there isn’t someone we can encourage. Resist the tendency to criticize, instead build guidance and instruction into your speech layered with encouragement. People need encouragement desperately, for big and small things – none of us are impervious to the attacks of discouragement. To give authentic encouragement requires a small dedication to think about someone else, unselfishly – listening to their words (what is said and what is not said). Authentic encouragement is not seeking reciprocal admiration, but stopping and highlighting someone else’s choices, actions, lifting them up. Your encouragement to one person can be passed on to more people within their lives. Encouragement is a hopeful transaction of trust and faith. The witness of God’s love will be bigger and wider and more vibrant because of your effort to give encouragement to one person. Help make someone’s burden be light as feather, find a way to be an aggressive encourager today.

“When he arrived there and saw the wonderful things God was doing, he was filled with excitement and joy, and encouraged the believers to stay close to the Lord, whatever the cost. Barnabas was a kindly person, full of the Holy Spirit and strong in faith. As a result large numbers of people were added to the Lord.” Acts 11:23-24

Watch Out for Moose and Deer

2008-11-04T07:20:00.002-05:00

Who can hope to be safe? who is sufficiently cautious?Guard himself as he may, every moment's an ambush. ~Horace

Accidents, and particularly street and highway accidents, do not happen - they are caused. ~Ernest Greenwood

It’s a very sobering feeling to be up in space and realize that one’s safety factor was determined by the lowest bidder on a government contract - Alan Shepherd.
Safety is something that happens between your ears, not something you hold in your hands - Jeff Cooper.
To keep oneself safe does not mean to bury oneself - Seneca

Prepare and prevent, don't repair and repent. ~Author Unknown

There was only one catch and that was Catch-22, whcih specified that a concern for one's own safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind. Jospeh Heller

The moon is still full in the sky and constellations shine brightly from their celestial home. “Hey, Orion, it’s good to see you,” I say, gazing at the night-sky littered with sparkling diamonds. I look for him in every dark sky, following his seasonal placement and movement. We live in a very rural area, not inundated with excessive industrial and residential light pollution, and though there are many days lost to cloud cover, I can find Orion each week of the year. It’s a comforting habit to know I am not alone, that this ancient hunter with his stylish belt and helmet and handy spear are on guard.
“It’s a bit late for you isn’t it?” I question my star-filled friend, glancing at the clock (5:25 a.m.), filling my van with the day’s essentials in a few trips. Books, breakfast, cuppa coffee, lunch, laptop, more books, purse, palm pilot, camera, a few more books, VHS tapes to be returned to the library, a sweater, phone (How do I need so many things?) Late October in Northeast OH has a dark sky very late in the morning and every early in the evening – daylight savings time will be coming soon with its forgiving “fall back” hour which always seems to provide for me a gracious extra amount of time for more than a week. But for now, this pre-breakfast commute to the other side of the state for Master’s classes in Greek and Puritanism will be by the light of the silvery moon.

My husband has just come home from the gym just before I go, and I step upstairs to wake up half of the kid crew – their bus will be here by 7 a.m. so they need to be out of bed by 6…”Wakee, wakee, eggs and bakeee”

Dave coming in and me going out, to be away from each other most of the day he affectionately reminds me, as he always has: “Watch out for moose and deer.”

I had no idea how important it would be to me that day.

When I first met Dave we were university students in the Music School at the University of Akron. Both full-time students, he working two additional jobs, me working one and both of us keeping a full schedule of gigs, we were driving in so many different directions. Time together was scarce and regularly we were tired and a drive home was loaded with the possibility to be driving while sleepy. He would say, “Watch out for moose and deer” and getting to know his parents, I knew this is what his father would say to him as he was leaving the house. It was Irwin affection developed by hunters and brothers who lived in Maine wilderness areas – “Take care of yourself, be safe even when there is present danger around.”

It was not casual or intended to be funny; it was playfully serious. A moose in the road will not move or run and will walk away from the accident that devastated your vehicle. In deer season, when you are driving in green and wooded areas, you are in the feeding and safe areas for these animals which are hiding and feeling pursued. They will run out into the road at unpredictable times – you have to keep in mind that they could run into your path and be ready to stop quick and avoid them.

So when Dave lovingly reminded me, “Watch out for moose and deer,” I kept in mind he wants me drive like I have some sense.

It takes me 20 minutes to even get to the highway, navigating the rural roads and thoroughfares on my journey. The corn, potato and soy crops have been harvested and most farms are bare and desolate, waiting for the autumn plowing and winter wheat. I had downloaded a version of Pilgrim’s Progress and burned a cd of it to pass my 100 minute trip, so I am driving and paying attention, but I am paying attention to many things.
And then, on the left, it was a 10 point buck (maybe it was 12 points) standing right by the side of the road, grazing, contemplating, waiting. It is still very dark and to see a deer there was striking. Would he run and dash across the traffic? Would he remain on the side of the road? Traffic slowed down immediately, perilously, aware that danger was present.
Within 2 more minutes, on the right there are two does…are there more? Are there young ones, too? Are they waiting for an open space to run or will they bolt out regardless of my van or the trucks and cars around us? Driving has me on edge, keeping in mind that I need to keep my wits and pay attention to the coming landscape.
Then, without any warning a pick-up truck tries to cross at an intersection with traffic bearing down, hardly any leeway for his truck to fit or anyone else to get out of the way. Cars are anticipating the impending crash, peeling off to the left and right like a gigantic banana peeling off in several directions. The semi truck who has been driving in the lane right next to me begins to anticipate the impact and tries to correct – by switching to my lane! So, squeezed into a rock and a hard place, it seems like an accident will happen, I will be in the middle of it and there is nothing to stop it all.
My heart is pounding right through my chest and I am praying as I am watching this all. Someone else’s stupid driving has caused a dozen of us to begin making reckless choices about how to solve the problem. The accident is avoided – oh, I hate stupid drivers – but the rest of my trip has my hands shaking, my heart rate elevated, my imagination keyed as I see my family picture without me and my nerves are shredded. I’m fiercely angry and crying – wanting to be safe, danger was lurking, ready to pounce.

Be vigilant about your life – WATCH OUT – for there is danger lurking all around, camped out on the fringes waiting for a vulnerable time to use its strength. Reach out to God to be your stronghold, especially for those weeks that get busier than ever imagined. God will be your refuge, your fortress, your protector when facing the danger life brings, both to our outer lives and our inner lives. Protect yourselves and those you love. Be vigilant about your life.

“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.’ Surely he will save you from the fowler's snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” Psalm 91:1-4 NIV

How Do You Measure a Broken Heart?

2008-10-19T07:27:00.002-04:00

"Hearts will never be made practical until they are made unbreakable."
~ The Tinman (The Wizard of Oz)

“The heart is the only broken instrument that works.”~ T. E. Kalem

"Once upon a time I was falling in love, but now I'm only falling apart; there’s nothing I can say, a total eclipse of the heart.”~ Bonnie Tyler

“In all things it is better to hope than to despair.”~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

Words and hearts should be handled with care:
For words when spoken and hearts when broken
Are the hardest things to repair.”

“The human heart has hidden treasures, in secret kept, in silence sealed;
The thoughts, the dreams, the hopes, the pleasures,
Whose charms were broken if revealed.” ~ Charlotte Bronte

How Do You Measure a Broken Heart?

The echoes in her broken heart
Were from so many voices,
Too many choices
That pulled her to this place.
She never saw herself right here,
But the tempting voices,
The enticing choices
Promised love but only brought disgrace.

How do you accurately measure
The broken heart which has been robbed of treasure?
Suddenly dark
Empty
Alone, but full of echoes
From voices and choices.
How is it done? Where can you start?
How do you measure a broken heart?

The deafening cacophony of questions:
Too many ferocious voices,
So many miserable choices
That dragged her to this place.
“Why me?” “What if?” “Why now?”
“I must fix this,
But how?”
“There is so much I want to erase.”

Unrelenting echoes pummel her heart:
Unloving voices,
Unbelievable choices
That abandoned her to this place.
No one can know her,
This broken-winged songbird
With the vacant-eyed tear stained face.

A voice deep within stands up to the noise,
Stronger than the voices,
Understanding the choices
That brought her to this place.
Jesus cares deeply
And His echo brings love
Mercy, forgiveness:
“I will measure your heart with grace.”

jsi

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18

The LORD heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:3

A bruised reed He will not break and a smoldering wick He will not snuff out.
Psalm 42:3

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me because He has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from the darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor. Isaiah 61:1,2

Fun Monday

2008-10-06T23:04:00.012-04:00

The hostess: Mommie Wizdom http://blog.mommiewizdom.com/

It is finally time for this week's Fun Monday. The assignment:

Your job is to write a story (true or made-up). You must INCLUDE all 10 words.

Theme : Bedtime Stories of Raising a Teenager

The words: Ostrich, goosebumps, magazines, soup, cats, lethargic, noodles, tequila, doorknob, biscuit

Wild card words: prehistoric, Jedi Knight, cactus, periscope, humor

***********************************************************************************
And so...

(Clearing throat and opening the carefully preserved story book...)

Once there was an ostrich, Fred, and when he turned thirteen,
His attitude and humor changed, you could tell by his magazines.
Fred once adored to linger, read and ruminate a tad
About his vast collection: Doorknobs! Oy, now they were RAD!!
Fred could sit for hours with his volumes prehistoric
And his heart would race with a pace that was truly meteoric!
Knobs of glass, or wood or pearl from the great Cape of Good Hope
Shapes like buttons, boats and balls - one, a periscope!
His prized one - a light blue orb - a present from Auntie Shelia
Which had contained in its center - the worm from a bottle of tequila!
This one had a cat's eye: Fred had got that one last year.
Another's painted "Abandon all hope YE who enter here."

But Fred has turned thirteen you see, and all that we can tell
That this seems to be the year Fred bid his doorknobs farewell.
To keep on collecting them seemed boring and lethargic.
The reasons for the quick distate seems almost biologic.
Fred didn't feel as strongly 'bout these doorknob magazines,
They didn't give him goosebumps - they were suddenly not keen.
"What really took their place?", you ask. The truth was quite surprising:
We noticed that new magazines were coming here since spring.
Cooking magazines -a bunch - from Arizona and Atlanta
Promising the best quick breads, from pumpkin to banana.

So Fred is in the kitchen, reading passionately with delight
Cooking up a storm, wielding a whisk like a Jedi Knight.
He found more recipes for dinner: Delicious garlic brisket,
Cactus soup with noodles, and a scrumptious flaky biscuit.

jsi

Stop by an see these creative writings, on this very Fun Monday!

1. Heather2. Sayre3. hulagirl4. Tiggerlane5. iPost6. SwampAngel65
7. Gattina8. Raven9. grace10. IamwhoIam11. alison12. Narice
13. Swampy14. Min15. Woodlandmama16. Dr. John17. toni

Fun Monday

2008-09-29T14:41:00.004-04:00

Cassie at rdhmom.blogspot.com is hosting Fun Monday today...and the category is "the inside of your messiest closet. No organizing before the picture..."

So here goes.

Drum roll, please...

The hall closet on the first floor, next to the laundry room, the entrance from the garage...

It's not exactly the messiest closet in the world, but it contains the cleaning products that prove...

...that our life can be quite messy. Resolve Carpet Stain Removal, by the several cans in quantity. Our life can be quite messy, and instead of losing my head about another spill, I need to have something forgiving to help prevent it from making a forever stain.

Now, go over to rdhmom.blogspot.com and check out everyone else's closet...what a riot!
1. Sandy
2. BS
3. Heather
4. Jan
5. Bermudabluez
6. Chris B
7. Angela
8. Cynthia
9. Hula Girl
10. Sayre
11. Bee Dancer
12. Narice - new to Fun Monday!!
13. Big Momma
14. Herb of Grace - new to Fun Monday!!
15. Faye
16. Olive
17. Jessie
18. Hootin' Anni
19. Lil Mouse
20. SwampAngel - unfortunately her camera died.....
21. Janet
22. Gattina
23. Mommy Wizdom - our host for next week!!
24. Grace
25. Sauntering Soul
26. iPost
27. Tiggerlane
28. Karisma
29. Tanya
30. Judy
31. Melanie

A Soul at Rest, A Body in Motion

2008-09-28T20:17:00.002-04:00

A Soul at Rest, A Body in Motion

A soul at rest, a body in motion –
This is my life, Lord, amid this commotion:
I have another tall mountain of laundry to wash
and
I hear another growing argument to squash
and
I have another dinner to make with flair and panache:

I know I can’t do it without You.

A soul at rest, a body in motion –
This is my heart, Lord, wrenched up in emotion:
Do I have solutions for problems that arise?
and
Do I have wisdom to disarm enemies in disguise?
and
Do I have enough love for the pain in their eyes?

I know I can’t do this without You.

A soul at rest, a body in motion
This is my prayer, Lord, with increasing devotion:
To know more of You and to help make You known
and
To ask you to soften my hard heart of stone
and
To live a life of love, honoring You alone:

I know I can’t do this without You.

My soul at rest, but my body in motion;
My heart filled with peace in loud, busy commotion.
Lord, bring Your power
This very hour:

I know I can’t do it without You.

jsi

“Jesus gently said, ‘Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and My burden is light.’” Matthew 11:28-30

“This is what the LORD says, ‘Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will have rest for your souls.” Jeremiah 6:16

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul.” Psalm 23:1-3

Fun Monday

2008-09-22T16:22:00.011-04:00

Sports Fan Heather at hmckillip.blogspot.com is the host today...check out her link today. The theme is sports fans.

This is my first Fun Monday and sports pictures are a great find for our place.

I live in OH, so my football team...

...and my baseball team...
...are not doing so well.

I watch OSU football with a passion...

...and this is my absolute favorite part. I'm the kind of football fan that makes it to the field early for the preshow Marching Band and can hardly wait for the halftime show. I LOVE LOVE LOVE Script OHIO.

But by far, these are my favorite sports stars...

T. plays for Tri-County Cyclones, defensive wing...

A. plays striker for United Die soccer...

...N. plays for striker for G's Pizza...

...and K. runs like the wind on G's Pizza.

My camera is full of their action shots, and my schedule is full from their practice and games. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

Are you a sports fan? Who are your favs?

Now, go check out everyone else's allegiances or share your own!Players:1. Tanya2. Judysteapot3. Hootin' Anni4. Rayne5. Gattina6. Ali7. Grace8. Storyteller9. HulaGirlAtHeart10. Chrisb11. jsi12. Swampangel6513. karmyn r14. Alison15. Jan16. Swampy17. {i}post18. debs19. sauntering soul20. robocop21. beedancer22. margaret23. tiggerlane24. Mommywizdom25. kitten

More and More of Me

2008-09-09T15:31:00.004-04:00

Holy Spirit, sanctify my heart
This inner house, every room,
Reclaim every part.
Take my sin: forgive it –
It stands in the way.
Take my doubt: dissolve it –
Restore me, I pray.
Help me to see
It is not for me
To have more and more of You:
But instead,
You will have
More and more of me.

Holy Spirit, sanctify my heart
Transform every corner,
I need a new start.
Teach me to practice
Your Presence today;
An authentic role
With no masks for this play.
Help me to see
It is not for me
To have more and more of You:
But instead,
You will have
More and more of me.

Immanuel, God with us
You are the gift of God.
Immanuel, God with us
Holy Spirit, Immanuel.

Holy Spirit, sanctify my heart
Re-energize my joy
In salvation’s part.
Take my care, my anxiety,
My burdens, this strife:
Spirit, stoop to my weakness,
Strengthen my life.
Help me to see
It is not for me
To have more and more of You:
But instead,
You will have
More and more of me.

Holy Spirit, sanctify my heart
Clean hands, clean thoughts,
Clean words – every part.
Set my mind
On things above,
Teach me how
To live in love.
Show me Your most excellent way!
Teach me, lead me, Holy Spirit today!

Help me to see
It is not for me
To have more and more of You:
But instead,
You will have
More and more of me.

jsi

“Jesus kindly said to his disciples, ‘If you love me, you will obey what I command. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Counselor to be with you forever – the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives within you. I will not leave you as orphans. All this I have spoken while still with you. But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.’” John 14:15-18; 25-27 NIV

Friendship Zone

2008-09-05T22:51:00.004-04:00

Friendship Zone

The playground carousel accelerates
Children grasping tight until
Around and around with blazing speed–
Spinning, racing faster still.
With blurring colors, dizzy vision
An un-grounding, shout-sounding heart-pounding thrill.

Each brave soul jumps, holding firmly
Because of the ever-increasing speed.
Filling one spot after another
Hoping the pace will not exceed
What they can take – “Hey, don’t stand alone!
Sit next to me! A friend is what we need!”

.
A friend who shares, who sits right there,
Who knows just what you’re going through.
A friend who knows you and always shows you
Their friendship is honest and strong and true.

Round and round our life is moving
At blazing speed, racing faster still.
With blurring colors, dizzy vision
“Can I survive this all until
I get to jump off? I’m not strong – I’m not sure:
I can’t do this alone, this long walk uphill.”

Each brave soul jumps, holding firmly
Because of the ever-increasing speed
Searching for another person
Hoping this ride will not exceed
What they can take – “Hey, room for another!
A friend is what both you and I need!”

A friend who shares, who sits right there,
Who knows just what you’re going through.
A friend who knows you and always shows you
Their friendship is honest and strong and true.

We need each other, intensely, immensely;
We were never meant to live life alone.
We are called in this life to know God -
And we have the privilege to help make Him known.
Included into this blurring carousel ride of life
Is the astounding, heart-pounding friendship zone.
jsi

Does someone around you need a real tried and true friend today?
Be the breath of God to someone's heart: bring hope, be a friend.

Love each other deeply.

God is love. When we take up permanent residence in a life of love, we live in God and God lives in us. This way, love has the run of the house, becomes at home and matures in us, so that we’re free of worry on the Judgment Day – our standing in the world is identical with Christ’s. There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life – fear of death, fear of judgment – is one not fully formed in love.

We though, are going to love – love and be loved. First we were loved, now we love. He loved us first.

If anyone boasts, “I love God,” and goes right on hating his brother or sister, thinking nothing of it, he is a liar. If he won’t love the person he can see, how can he love the God he can’t see? The command we have been give from Christ is blunt: Loving God includes loving people. You’ve got to love both.
1 John 4:16-21 The Message

Write-in Vote for Worst Mother of the Year Award

2008-08-25T22:01:00.002-04:00

The bubbles ascend lightly within the giant fish tank, with their gentle calming rhythm enticing an outsider to wonder like the incredible Mr. Limpit, “What would it be like to be…oh I wish, I wish I were a fish.” Inside the enormous tank is a varied collection of fishes, and their fin patterns and swimming technique are intriguing. Fish do not have a care in the world. Fish live in a serene and quiet existence. Fish don’t need x-rays for broken bones. My little man N. likes the all-black fish with a bright orange tail. “What kind do you think he is, mommy?” His questions pull me out of my distracted, questioning mind and try to find a good name for some fish that carries enough pride to wear our school district’s colors with such definitive pride.

Fish tanks are always in the Emergency Room waiting area for very specific reasons and they always perform their amazing magic for my children, doing exactly what they are supposed to do in a time of stress, questioning and pain. They distract and calm patient and parent, both in pain for different reasons. It’s Saturday night, very late, and we have finally returned home from a church Family Day at our church camp in the Atwood Lake region. We were there with several people from our corps and 47 other corps – hundreds and hundreds of people, and great fun on a terrific weather day. Right after lunch we trekked up to the top of the hill: I was a chaperone available for the large, inflatable games, three that were high and exciting, and promising great fun. There were several adults present to insure safety for all, I was one of them and the still the worst possible result happened for my little man.

He is such an athletic boy, who is always moving – never walking, always running. He got to the slide long before I did, and by the time he finished one ride he was complaining of pain in his foot. “It really hurts, mom.” So I gave him my bottle of cold water and chair, and quietly reached for my Tic Tacs…it has always worked before. He has never needed much dramatic care when it comes to boo boos. He has always worn his pain on his sleeve, using a big cry since he was a toddler, letting you know that something is wrong. But all he has ever needed to do was show it to me, let me rub it, take a drink and tell me how it happened and then accept a Tic Tac. (yes I use placebos, and he is my #1 success rate. Tic Tacs are the most amazing over the counter, “don’t need a prescription to get rid of the pain” kind of medicine magic!) For him, the biggest healing power has always been the telling of his story, many times re-enacting the event, which has been an insight to his perspective and how he sees the world. I even took a few pictures of his foot, mostly for him to see the comparison that there was no swelling yet. Within minutes, he’d be bouncing off with my tried and true Dr. Mom diagnosis: “You’ll be fine and dandy like alligator candy.”

Well, Mr. Fine and Dandy was not eating alligator candy this day. But he was brave and strong, limping slightly through the rest of the hour on the hill, limping noticeably throughout the rest of the day. He went swimming, canoeing, and walked over 5 miles since 1:15 and we would check with him about the progress his foot was feeling. A few more Tic Tacs and a little pep talk, “it will feel better soon.” Usually the impact pain has long gone and things are just a little sore. I don’t want to say I didn’t believe my little man, but he can be very dramatic to emphasize a point or try to let you know he doesn’t want to do something.

So here we sit in the ER hours and hours later and as I describe the timeline to these doctors I feel convicted that it has been over 8 hours from when he said that it hurt and when I really took him seriously. That timeline was my responsibility. My child. My calling to be his caregiver. Why is he the one who always has to wait? Why am I always underestimating the pain or damage he is in? Why do my children always get hurt when they are with me, never with anyone else?

The fish circle and dive and my heart is forever questioning my capability to be a mom: second-guessing everything I do and the reasons why. As he is entranced with these fish, I am entranced with him: he who has forgiven me for so many mistakes and errors, loss of temper or forgetful memory. He is the one of my children who has stopped my heart so many times: He didn’t thrive at birth, instead stubbornly not gaining weight. Born at 8 pounds even, he was 11 pounds at 7 months old and wasn’t placed on a normal growth chart until age 6. His RSV at 16 months was treated as a cold for three days (because it was the final stretch to Christmas Distribution) until I was startled by his coloring. (I called our pediatrician during Distribution and got a sick appointment for 4:00 p.m. that day and 4:17 my babe in arms was admitted into the hospital – I should have taken that cold more seriously.) He was #3 in our TANK, and I was very overwhelmed with his presence. He wasn’t the baby anymore when he was merely 17 months old, vacating the crib for a baby sister, expected to grow up over night. I was happy and floating off the ground with him in my life, but overwhelmed nonetheless. Dave and I were outnumbered by the little people in our lives and I was trying very hard (and succeeding and failing publicly) at keeping it all together.

His body is a story of scars and near-death events, which he relished telling the Radiologist doctor who was transporting him to the x-ray room. (Right here on my chin…over here on my arm…this spot on my head…these stitches right here…) Men love to tell their scar stories, they revel in it, and in this doctor N. had an enthusiastic active listener. The doctor showed N. his own scars and told his stories, too, emphasizing N. strength and bravery. Mommies kiss the boo boos, but these men, they retell the injury with death-defying valor and courage, emphasizing the great strength (or stupidity) it took to face the event.

So going home with a promise to call with a further consultation, it is a fractured foot that I had him walking around all day on. A broken bone medicated with pep talks and Tic Tacs. He has another story to tell - he's weirdly excited. I, on the other hand, want to crawl under a rock.

I am the write in vote for the Worst Mother of the Year award.

Trust or Worry

2008-08-21T07:53:00.004-04:00

I know God will not give me anything I can’t handle. I just wish He didn’t trust me so much. ~Mother Teresa of Calcutta

There is only one way to happiness and that is to cease worrying about things which are beyond the power of our will. ~ Epictetus

The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them. ~Ernest Hemingway

What worries you, masters you. ~John Locke

It is impossible to trust and worry at the same time. ~ Lt. Colonel Judy LaMarr

My heart is wrapped with chords

Harmonizing with other hearts;
Singing a fresh, unique song.
Resonating “I trust you”,
Echoing sure and strong.

My heart is wrapped in layers
Of people, places, detailed faces:
Memories deep and clear.
Friendship with its depth
Love that is sincere.

My heart is wrapped in trust
Worry tries to build a home there -
Worry is my temptation.
Worry is not trust, concern or love:
It’s a greedy, desperate imitation.

My heart is wrapped in prayer
When worry makes appearances
Prayer is my strength-filled conversation.
“God is in charge COMPLETELY!”
God’s peace disarms hesitation.

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:4-7 NIV

Coming up for air

2008-07-26T22:48:00.002-04:00

My heart was pumping faster and faster: it felt as if it was pounding through my chest. You know, like in the cartoons when a scared person (or duck or rabbit or rooster for that matter) has their heart pounding out far away from their body. Well, that was me. I was stinking scared, and it was the whole entire enchilada: sweat on my neck, trembling hands, dry mouth, goosebumps - you name it. I took a few kids to the cinema in our area to see the movie Journey to the Center of the Earth. First - we loved it. Second, I haven't been scared like that in years. I was rotating little people in my lap (hah, I wasn't the only one scared!) I rarely like a movie adaptation of a literary story...but I loved this one. Read the book and go and see it.

One scene in the movie fully describes my summer: when three of the characters landed in a deep pool of water. I don't know about you, but when I see a movie when people go under water, I try to see how long I can hold my breath. If they aren't able to breathe air, they are trying to get to the surface. Could I do it? So they are under water, and I am holding my breath...and not making it to the surface before I had to take a breath. Man alive, I would have drowned or needed someone to reach down and draw me up to the surface.

I feel like the activity of this summer has been like that deep pool and my attempts to stay above water have been a hard fight. It has all been edifying and fantastic, but very full. July has been a kicker! I have taken 16 tests this month, written 20 book reports, read about 4,500 pages, and I still have 20 pages to type for two papers. We have had 5 baseball tournament games, Music and Arts camp, several women's ministry and youth ministry events. I have packed and unpacked and repacked suitcase after suitcase, and the laundry from that should never be counted (it would only lead to depression!) I have driven over 5,000 miles, written about 17 poems, 12 sermons and played about 10,000 notes. I have painted 400 nails, and needed to sunscreen dozens of young ones. There has been tie die and balloons and Jesus songs. My pointer finger on my right hand has developed a callus from camera shutter button overuse.

I practice a new Spanish sentence each week...actually that was a new sentence of mine.

Aprendos una nueva oracions en el espanol cada semane.

This week is very poignant...El amor no mira con los ojos, sino con el alma. William Shakespeare
Love looks not with the eyes but the soul. William Shakespeare

I have finished a blanket, a sweater, a cross stitch project and 4 pillows.

I typically post on xanga and eblogger, trying to make sure it happens in the same day. But today's post included a ton of pics, and I'm including the link to my xanga because it would take me an additional hour to complete. And, sorry, time's of the essence right now. So consider this an invitation: follow the link over for the photos.

http://xanga.com/lifeisjoy

Have a great Sunday of worship with the God of Divine Hope.

Jersey #24

2008-06-26T23:18:00.001-04:00

The day starts off early with a quiet breakfast and Bible time at the kitchen table (Psalm 106). I make a decaf latte – espresso, steamed milk, sugar free vanilla and sugar free caramel and it was smooth and well-rounded. (T. likes it so much he’s made it “his drink” – the T. special.) I am not alone, but the rest of the house was still snoring softly, each found in their own favorite, comfortable positions. T. is on right side, head covered by blanket, one leg out, one sock on. A. is flat on her back, covers to her chin, like she is waiting for her Prince Charming to give her the kiss which will bring her awake. N. is flat on his back, pillow under his back, neck arched, mouth WIDE open like a Venus Fly Trap awaiting its unsuspecting prey. K. is in a tight ball, on her left side hugging her blanket.

They are so precious when they are sleeping, they take my breath away. Their schedule has been very packed with the baseball/softball schedule, and my TANK has been up late each night this week – 11:30 p.m., 11:45 p.m. From one game or another, some in different cities, some at home, we have been finding ourselves getting home long after dark and long after an acceptable bed time. So they are not the usual early risers they had been during the school year.

I have bowls on the table ready for breakfast cereal, and one by one they appear, still warm from sleep. (This morning’s order K., A., N., T.) Now that they are all awake, our morning will begin. The list of chores is set, ready for someone to sign up and complete, and when they are finished the rest of the day is free for them, so they try to get it done before 11.(One of the chores is making mom a latte – I am no dummy! I got a twofer!!! And T. loves making them.) Words of encouragement help stop the brewing argument, “But I want to get to clean the bathroom, it’s my favorite job!” by knowing there is a bathtub over here that needs cleaning. “Oh great!” they say with excitement and run off, and I am left in a quizzical query, “Could that really be my boy?” I leave to go pick up the bread donations from the two bakeries in town and then I have a scheduled dental cleaning and check up.

I don’t know about you, but I really like going to the dentist; I always have. My dentist in this town has turned out to be my favorite of the past 18 years, for many reasons, and they love my Salvation Army insurance because they get paid so promptly and sufficiently. They make sure they compliment me every time I am there, whether myself or with my TANK, about the very thorough and inclusive medical protection offered under the umbrella of my insurance. I have to agree with them.

So I arrive slightly early and sit with my book: I have been looking forward to reading all week long. There hasn’t been a moment that stopped or even paused for these 14 days. Dave has been in Chicago for two weeks, and although I was glad my husband was able to receive such a blessed opportunity, it meant the fire under my schedule was going to get turned up.

On HIGH.

And not just regular HIGH, but Super Duper HIGH, like when the flames under the pasta pot are reaching out and up the sides of the cookware, with the contents boiling higher and higher, encroaching on the top and threatening to boil over. Reading helped pass the time lovingly and in what felt like no time, the dental hygienist Ms. Pearly Teeth calls my name and I follow her through the labyrinth to her workspace and find myself comfortable in the big dentist chair. It has been the first time my mind had been quiet for so long.

The lighting is not as bright as in the hallway, the view from the window is of a lush wooded area, and the music playing is soft. I feel relaxed already and don’t anticipate anything unusual to happen in this visit, just a cleaning and a new toothbrush and free floss. She is a quiet soul, who attends straight to her work after only a few sentences of conversation.

I can hear Ingrid Michaelson’s music over the speaker, and I keep myself from humming so I can hear her; she has a pretty voice. “If you are chilly, here take my sweater.” Oh, I really like this love song from her recording that she did without a label. “Your head is aching, I’ll make it better.” In my imagination I see her video of clowns and one person who is not a clown and sequentially not accepted because of the difference. “Cuz I love the way you call me baby” the bridge, the rhythm, the clapping. “For you take me the way I am.” And then it happened. And I couldn’t stop it.

The tears slid out, silently, running slowly down my cheek, and since my feet we elevated above my head, they went straight to each ear. First left, then right, then left again. I didn’t want to cry: I didn’t have time to cry. But there it was; and my ears were filling up like tiny swimming pools. Ms. Pearly Teeth was worried, “Did I hurt you? Was I too rough on your gums? Did I give you pain?” she asks quietly as she reaches for a Kleenex.

“No, please forgive me. You didn’t do anything wrong,” I strive to say with a steady voice, unsuccessfully masking the fact that I am thoroughly choked up.

“I must have given you too much time to think,” she shares, as she grabs another tissue for me and continues back to her inspection of my bicuspids and incisors and gums.

“For you take me the way I am.”

No, it isn’t the dental cleaning that has brought pain, but here is the first time I have had to reflect more about the pain this baseball season has been for my oldest, my T. It has been in the garbage can for so long, and the comparison between his ball team and ANK’s ball teams have been like night and day. A. plays in every game, and even though she isn’t a stellar athlete, she is in many positions and has been practicing pitching, from encouragement from her coach. N. has the world’s best coaching staff and has had a World Series Hall of Fame baseball season, excelling in so many ways especially as pitcher and catcher. (He is a kid-based ESPN highlight film every game: he plays outta his mind and I can’t keep his uniform clean from all of the grass and dirt stains from sliding and catching, etc.) K. is a fierce player, strong and decisive and has been a pitcher and 1st base all season. She hits, she bunts, she steals, she slides and she runs like the wind! Her coaches are over the moon about her and find ways to help her improve even more. (Last night they had her team party at the Alliance Salvation Army and she got the Best Attitude Award from her team – they love her and she loves them.)

And then there is T.s team.

T. has only played ½ of an inning in the month of June, and today’s date is June 26. He has played 15 minutes in the last 6 weeks, and that includes a few double headers in which he didn’t play for 16 innings. His coaches cruelly treat him like he is invisible, at practice and in games. This team has won and lost and they have done it all without him, exiling him and 2 other boys to the bench while the other 9 athletes are in the field every time, are in the batting lineup every time, are protected by the coaches to assure their play time every time. All of these other 9 are coach’s boys, or long-time friends of the family, These other 9 athletes, the “real team of starters” stay on the field even when they are hurt, limping, with sprained ankles, intense leg cramps or throwing up. There are no substitutes ever made for any of “the real players” even though the other benched athletes are ready and eager to be an active member of this team. It is not a team filled with elite athletes, but average kids who do well and also make mistakes.

“For you take me the way I am.” I have been longing for these coaches to take T. for who he is and let him be an active part of this team. Their behavior has passed unfair and stepped into treacherous, and they are in full authority of what they are doing. I have pleaded with them. My husband has talked with them, too. And for nothing, but another game without field or batting, another to add to the growing pile of disappointment.

T. has been to every practice possible and only missed a minimal amount of games, and those because they were scheduled at the last minute, for Memorial Day weekend which was a schedule conflict with the NEOSA BRASS performance weekend in Toledo. I have been so proud of him under this kind of terrible pressure – he feels terrible about the whole thing, and yet is still respectful to his coaches. He has lost his temper, but only a little in the privacy of his own room.

“For you take me the way I am.” When T. hurts, I feel a deep pain too, and am upset that I have not been able to persuade anyone to see it any different or do anything about it. I have been ineffective. I have been a failure. My new baseball friends on this team are embarrassed about being so excited about how much their athlete is playing, trying to hide it in my presence. I am excited about how well their boys are playing, too, especially when they are doing well. They have found it hard to sit around me, just as perplexed by these selfish coaching decisions, so I have frequently found myself following them to spend some time each game to talk and such. These selfish coaching decisions have made sure their sons play every inning of every game – an athlete’s dream. T. is a good athlete and loves hockey and loves baseball. Their seasons don’t conflict so up until now, he has had very good experiences in the spring with a baseball team. He hits well, he fields well, he throws well – as well as anyone else on this team, but these coaches won’t give him a second look. Or even a first look. He. Is. Invisible. My heart has been in conflict and torment over his burden.

So as Ms. Pearly Teeth returns the big dentist chair to its original locked and upright position, my ears now have the legitimate contents of the Erie Canal streaming out of each one onto my shirt, creating a very unique striping, zigzag pattern. It’s actually quite fetching, if it would have been intentional. She snags another tissue for me, with the concern, “I hope it will get better.” It won’t, I know that. T.’s baseball season lasts another 2 weeks, more games he won’t get to play, that his coaches won’t tell him why he won’t get to play. And they won’t take him the way he is – the magnificent, amazing, incredible man-in-training wearing a ball cap and jersey #24.

Hey Batter Batter, Hey Batter, Batter SWING!!

2008-06-23T02:22:00.002-04:00

Things could be worse. Suppose your errors were counted and published every day, like those of a baseball player. ~Author Unknown

Ninety feet between home plate and first base may be the closest man has ever come to perfection. ~Red Smith

I believe in the Church of Baseball. I tried all the major religions and most of the minor ones. I've worshipped Buddha, Allah, Brahma, Vishnu, Siva, trees, mushrooms and Isadora Duncan. I know things. For instance, there are 108 beads in a Catholic rosary and there are 108 stitches in a baseball. When I learned that, I gave Jesus a chance. ~Ron Shelton, Bull Durham, 1988

Baseball, it is said, is only a game. True. And the Grand Canyon is only a hole in Arizona. ~George F. Will, Men at Work: The Craft of Baseball, 1990

You gotta be a man to play baseball for a living, but you gotta have a lot of little boy in you, too. ~Roy Campanella

Are you crying? Are you crying? ARE YOU CRYING? There's no crying! THERE'S NO CRYING IN BASEBALL! – Jimmy Dugan (Tom Hanks) in A League of Their Own

It has been a long, cold, wet, drizzling spring. The entire month of May found me on the ball field, trying to focus a camera despite my chattering teeth, wrapped up in winter coats, sweatshirts, gloves, hats, quilts and afghans. My trunk was always equipped with a few chairs and a few blankets. I looked like I was living out of my minivan and trying to camp on a glacier – oi. We had one game canceled because of snow! Other games were played with the mercury in the thermometer registering 49 degrees and 52 degrees. For four weeks our home was fighting ear infections, strep throat, the flu and upper respiratory infections. We were a sick bunch, and it all had to do with our ball games.

Our TANK each play on a ball team this year. A. and K. in the M. Fastpitch League and T. and N. are on A. Hot Stove. Even though this has been a new community and there is a new set of directions to fulfill, there is again a constant in our life: the spring baseball team.

March brought about a devastating reality from our school system: since the tax levy was not passed for nearly every school systems in the region, all schools would close their doors at 3:15 p.m. after school, not permitting any group to meet or have activities. This made a deep impact upon all of the ball teams through the M. Fastpitch and the A. Hotstove, who were now frantically searching for a place to have their indoor practice until the weather broke. (Our March brought at least 18” of snow, sleet and freezing sludge – there were no outdoor practices to be found.)

The Salvation Army gym in Alliance became a home for 11 teams, the only cost would be some canned goods from each team for the Army food pantry, and all revolving their practices about in a schedule which would make your head spin. (Alright, it made my head spin. Baseball and oodles of extra dinners, baseball and a gazillion pots of coffee, baseball and homework tutoring, baseball and computer lessons, baseball and Veggie Tale videos, baseball and Easter preparations, baseball and Bible activities, baseball and Bible coloring books, baseball and new client family intake at 7:30 p.m.) Not only was our family involved with several of these teams, but we were now hosts for the other teams. It felt like 350 people were through our building every week: families with toddlers we needed to divert from the action, young moms and dads and several children not in the gym.

It was demanding and thrilling, exciting and inspirational. Our spring took a ministry connection opportunity through this intriguing sport which includes balls, bats and gloves. Our War Cry piles dwindled, as did our other publications. God connections were made every day. “What are working on?” as an honest question from a mom or dad exposed the fact I was working on some homework from my Master’s classes. The testimony about God’s Word and theological topics were evangelical, intriguing and exciting. God and Creation delved into a testimony about God at work in our present world. God and Women explored being a vessel for God to work with and through. Jesus Christ as God and Man exposed various points, all questioning Jesus’ placement in our faith. God was at work, long before we could plan or schedule anything and God continued to inspire us and strengthen us.

Our ministry reach has deepened in this community because of baseball and softball – baseball has never been a hobby or pastime for us. My next couple posts will be centered around baseball – some terrific, some heart-wrenching, some joy-filled, some just plain mad. But all of it – every pitch, slide, strike, catch and ground rule double have been to the glory of God.

So, whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God. 1 Corinthians 10:31 NIV

Contagious

2008-06-17T10:15:00.002-04:00

For Judy and Bill

Contagious

You walk in the room, just like everyone else
But there is a difference from you.
Instead of an impossible problem
You see a solution on the horizon:
A solution that will be worth the wait.
You hope unswervingly
And I find your hope…contagious.

You join in the conversation, just like everyone else
But there is a difference from you.
Instead of an impossible person,
You see a heart that is hurting:
A person who is worth the wait.
You love lavishly
And I find your love…contagious.

You are part of a team, just like everyone else
But there is a difference with you.
Instead of an impossible disappointment
You see a future cooperation:
A future that is worth the wait.
You encourage aggressively
And I find your encouragement…contagious.

You live your life, just like everyone else
But there is a difference with you.
Instead of impossible demands
You embrace life with joy:
A joy that is worth the wait.
You embrace joyfully
And I find your joy…contagious

God’s love works profoundly- deeply - through you.
God’s love is the difference with you.
Your spiritual hospitality
Continues to draw people close:
Close enough to see love at work.
Close to your heart, close to God.
I find God’s love through you…contagious.
jsi

This is what the LORD Almighty says: “In those days ten men from all languages and nations will take firm hold of one devout believer by the hem of his robe and say, ‘Let us go with you, because we have heard that God is with you.’” Zechariah 8:23, New International Version

The Month of May

2008-05-26T10:48:00.002-04:00

Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November. All the rest have thirty-one excepting February alone. That has twenty-eight days clear, and twenty-nine in each leap year.

The first day of spring is one thing, and the first spring day is another. The difference between them is sometimes as great as a month. ~ Henry Van Dyke

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes...how do you measure, measure a year? Measure, measure your life in love: seasons of love. ~ From RENT, by Jonathan Larson

Tomorrow is a MYSTERY. Today is a GIFT...that's why its called "the PRESENT." ~ Unknown

As with most fine things, chocolate has its season. There is a simple memory aid that you can use to determine whether it is the correct time to order chocolate dishes: any month whose name contains the letter A, E, or U is the proper time for chocolate. ~ Sandra Boyton

In times like these, it is helpful to remember that there have always been times like these. ~ Paul Harvey

I contend the month of May
Has done its level best to kill me.
There’s little left to do or say
To dump or press or spill me.

The sequence of the line of days
From one into another
Left little time to breathe, or stroll
Or sit with one another.

A rollercoaster schedule
Has been blazing with its speed;
With sunrise of a brand, new day
“Lord, I need You!” is my creed.

There has not been a tear-free day
In the entire month collection,
Tears for anger, joy, despair and fear,
Confusion and affection.

I cannot say that if I knew
Just what each day would hold
That I would volunteer for every
Experience to unfold.

The mountaintops of joy and pride,
The valley lined with grief
Have left my soul gasping for
A secluded, closed relief.

To its credit the month of May
Has, with confidence and pride,
26 felonious attempts of premeditated
Calendar-icide.

But I’m still here, standing strong
With family, friends intact;
God has protected this ferocious time
His foundation has not cracked.

I contend the month of May
Has done its level best to kill me
There’s 5 days left –
Breath in deep –
God’s strength will need to fill me.

jsi

This is the day that the LORD has made; I will rejice and be glad in it. Psalm 118:24

Check out my Slide Show!

2008-05-13T01:12:00.001-04:00

God Himself Sings Over You

2008-05-06T09:09:00.003-04:00

Catch the rhythm from Heaven-
Hear the melody plain.
Linger through the lyrics
Of the hope-filled refrain;
With delight and great joy
And unlimited love:
God Himself sings over you.

God Himself sings over you
With a song that is vibrant and true
Composed and transformed
And for you it’s performed:
God Himself sings over you.

Let His music surround you-
Hear His voice say your name.
Stop and listen to His love song
As it covers the frame
Of your heart with His purpose
And plan for your life:
God Himself sings over you.

There is no other voice
In Heaven’s domain
That sings. Only God,
And He’s singing your name.
The angels and demons
Call, shout, speak, say and claim
But God Himself sings over you.

Listen to the song
That He sings just for you.
His performance for one
Composed original and new.
With delight and great joy
And unlimited love,
God Himself sings over you.

jsi

The LORD, the king of Israel, is with you; never again will you fear any harm.
On that day they will say to Jerusalem, "Do not fear, O Zion; do not let your hands hang limp.
The LORD your God is with you, He is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love,
He will rejoice over you with singing.
Zephaniah 3:15b-17

An Excellent Life

2008-04-18T15:10:00.002-04:00

I feel all thin, sort of stretched, if you know what I mean: like butter that has been scraped over too much bread. That can’t be right.” ~ Bilbo Baggins, The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien

It is the ordinary duties and labors of life that the Christian can and should develop his spiritual union with God. ~ Thomas Merton

And this our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything. ~ William Shakespeare

Life is like playing a violin solo in public and the learning the instrument as one goes on. ~ Samuel Butler

Four-fifths of all our troubles would disappear, if we could only sit down and keep still. ~ Calvin Coolidge

The spring breeze gently wafts across the softball field which is next to a pasture which is still populated with remnant corn stalks from last autumn’s bountiful harvest. The warmed ground is beginning to show signs of new life, sprouting growth and tender green shoots which are tempting to the rabbits and young deer. The fragrance of spring is pungent: the hyacinth with its heady bouquet, the daily showers with their cleansing deluge, and oh, the pastures. The predictable activity of the farmers with the warming weather, they have begun fertilizing their square miles of acreage with rural perfection. As I drive from piano lesson to baseball practice to softball practice, I cannot avoid the amount of rural activity which happens so close to my home. There is a strong perfume, a pasture perfume, and its smells incredible to me, but it can also knock you off your feet and grab your attention. Whoa!

Our life is deeply centered within a rural setting and the signs of spring bring a compelling activity to prompt growth from the soil and from the pasture. Lambing season is always the first signs of new birth on a farm, and the local fields now have baby lambs grazing with mothers, learning and running and tripping in their tiny attempts to figure out their life. There is no quick traffic, for several farmers have their large machines which join traffic and maneuver their left turns with greater cumbrance than my small van, and it is important to drive patiently and cautiously when they are included with other traffic which wants to drive at 70 mph. The size of these large tractors and combines with their enormous attachments for plowing, seeding, ground breaking and tilling is phenomenal as they can occupy ¾ of the road for the 1 mile they need travel to enter the other side of the farm to work again. The blades and back hoes, giant bucket and flat beds with giant spinners – they really do look incredible.

A few families on our 2 softball teams are farmers – cattle and corn – and they have been describing the daily life they tackle, embrace and live every day. Yesterday was a day in which the dairy farmers had purchased another 30 cows to add to their 130 head. I don’t even have a dog and this family has over 160 cows – AMAZING! The feeding. Milking. Mucking. Examination for injury or infection within the hooves. Management of the dry cows, who are pregnant and preparing for delivery. There is a short time in the afternoon, when all of the animals are cared for which allows for personal duties, then softball practice, and then it begins again.

I typically arrive at softball or baseball practice from a hectic day, typically sending some of my children with their coaches so I can make it to one practice. I’ll get to another practice for another child on another day. Dinner is an early, quick and light affair (we eat about 4:30 in baseball season, and really, no one wants to try to turn a double play with a stomach filled with mashed potatoes and gravy.) We’ll have a snack before we go to bed, so even though we are more hungry than usual, everything will be fine. My office work and ministry keep my days filled and moving, my graduate studies keep a book in my hand at every open moment, my children’s schedule keep me on the constant move.

But I don’t have anything in my life that is close to the demanding schedule that these farm families encounter. If I’m still awake at 11:00 p.m. it has frequently been my choice of how to use my time (i.e. it is easier to get school or office work completed after the kids are in bed) but for this dairy farm family it is 11:00 p.m. from the second feeding and milking of the herd and barn.

When describing her schedule, M. was trying to be as positive as possible but was quite discouraged by others who were complaining about “how busy life is”. I had been listening to these conversations as closely as I could, aware that I haven’t been to many of A. practices and that I am still new to many of these moms. I had stated that “It must be exhilarating and exhausting to be involved with sustaining new life everyday. Its God’s work and it can take everything you have to be involved with it.” She didn’t say anything then, but later as we waited for our darlings, who were now covered in mud, she stopped and shared a smile and gratitude for hearing what she was saying and understanding that farming for them isn’t just a trade, or a trained vocation or exclusively a chance to provide food. It is their family’s connection to God’s activity. Spring tilling, and planting and large animal birthing has kept them from being able to be at church recently, and her soul was hungry to hear from God.

My Bible present, a few minutes to share: “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.” Colossians 3:15-17, NIV

It is a privilege to share in God’s activity and honor Him with everything we do. We give thanks to God for our life by using each aspect of our life to praise and worship Him with excellence. Embrace the realm of life you have, whether it is defined by a cubicle or the back 40, and do everything you can with excellence. Frost those cupcakes with excellence. Return that fax with excellence. Tend to each patient with thorough excellence. Complete the curriculum parameters with excellence. Answer the office demands with excellence. Get the dry cleaning, return the library books, and complete the grocery shopping with excellence. Write that sermon with excellence. Feed the livestock with excellence. Complete the sale of that house with excellence. Clean the bathtub and complete the laundry with nothing short of excellence. God is honored with excellence!

Practice Makes Permanent

2008-04-04T07:29:00.003-04:00

"An ounce of practice is worthy more than a ton of preaching." ~ Mahatma Gandhi

"We learn by practice. Whether it means to learn to dance by practicing dancing or to learn to live by practicing living, the principles are the same. One becomes in some area an athlete of God." ~ Martha Graham

As you put into practice the qualities of patience, punctuality, sincerity and solitude, you will have a better opinion of the world around you." ~ Grenville Klaiser

"Practice is everything. This is often misquoted as 'Practice makes perfect.' " ~ Periander

"Cab drivers are living proof that practice does not make perfect." ~ Howard Ogden

"They say practice makes perfect. Of course it doesn't. For the vast majority of golfers it merely consolidates imperfection." ~ Henry Longhurst

Our home is filled with a variety of people grasping new skills, trying to learn something new, or sharpen a skill which has been used again and again. The mantra of my life lately has been, "Practice does not make perfect; practice makes permanent." This has really hit home with A. as she draws closer and closer to her Harpsichord recital.

The harpsichord is an older sister of the piano, and though constructed in a similar manner, it is VERY different from the piano touch that A. has grown to know and love. The piece that was chosen was waaaay harder than she had ever seen before and looking at the amount of notes, you could see the tears of frustration already in her eyes. "You can do this, dear," her teacher encouraged wisely, "you can do this, a little at a time. But you have to practice the small details, every time you sit down at the bench. Practice doing the little things right, not the speed, not the million notes...but your posture, the curve your fingers and wrists. This rhythm is the same, whether the tempo is fast or slow."

These are two videos of her hard work, and her deep concentration and pleasure from the benefit of determined practice. I am so proud of her!

My ears are not deaf, I hear her mistakes, her misfingering in a phrase here and there. But my ears are very forgiving, hearing her progress, hearing her hard work, hearing her practice. Practice makes permanent means if you practice something again and again, it will become the way it is performed again and again. Whether it is right or not, it has been permanently applied into the habitual response and learning. Practice something wrong, and it will remain wrong and will be harder to unlearn and reteach.

Practice makes permanent is not excessively tied to music performance or turning a double play or learning 25 Greek words. Practice makes permanent reaches into the spiritual discipline a believer exercises. Jesus taught His disciples many things, and underscored for them how important it was to continue to practice them.

Do this:
Forgive yourself
Love one another
Forgive each other's failures
Serve each other
Pray with passion and fervor
Remember the poor
Tell everyone about God' love
Repent
Heal
Reach out to those who are hanging out on limbs around you
Speak the language of love
Run out to greet those who have been lost and have returned
Rejoice
Celebrate
Jesus helps us to know it is important to practice our faith. Practice makes permanent. Practice sharing verses from Romans with someone who needs to hear the story of salvation. Does evangelism make your palms sweat and your heart pump?

Practice including conversations about God in your conversations with the people you care about. Share the love God has for the world, woven with forgiveness and mercy. Practice it everyday. How about this? Make a pact with yourself to tell someone - anyone - about God everyday and ask God to guide who that may need to be. By practicing the discipline of evangelism, you are being included into God's work and God's presence will be your deepest blessing.

Practice makes permanent. Practice a spiritual discipline today. God is with you, every step of the way.

"As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.

This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father.

You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another." John 15:9-17

I Saw Beauty First Through Her Eyes

2008-03-26T00:03:00.006-04:00

I saw beauty first through her eyes.
How do you know if someone loves butter?
“With this buttercup.”
How do you know God is an artist?
“This rainbow is made with watercolors.”
How did you know what I would look like before I was born?
“You whispered a song to my heart
And it made me smile.”

I saw beauty first through her eyes.
Standing in her closet, wearing her highest of heels.
I had already borrowed her teeny Copper Penny lipstick
Telling myself, “This must be mine: see how small it is.”
Practicing to be pretty
In a cloud of her Chantilly Lace and Shalimar.

I saw beauty first through her eyes.
My hands touch the silks held gently on the hangers
In ROY G. BIV order; tops mixed with bottoms.
Golds with browns, green with blues.
These match and THESE do not.
Practicing to be pretty
In a blue rayon dress, a string of pearls and a feather hat.

I saw beauty first through her eyes.
How does a lady act?
“If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nuttin’ at all.”
How does a lady walk in these high heels?
“Always on your toes looking ahead, never down.”
Will I be pretty?
“You have always been beautiful,
inside and out.”

I saw beauty first through her eyes.

Now I see beauty through my own.
The chords on the piano linger, in familiar fanfare
And we stand and turn to see her,
The bride, waiting at the end of the aisle.
Anticipating. Eager. Lingering. Patient. Nervous.
Her blue dress accents the deep blue of her eyes.
The hope-filled eyes of this bride – my mom.

I see beauty.

jsi

What matters is not your outward appearance - the styling of your hair, the jewelry you wear, the cut of your clothes - but your inner disposition. Cultivate inner beauty, the gentle, gracious kind that God delights in. The holy women of old were beautiful before God that way, and were good loyal wives to their husbands. 1 Peter 3:3-5 The Message

So don't lose a minute in building on what you have been given, complementing your basic faith with good character, spiritual understanding, alert discipline, passionate patience, reverent wonder, warm friendliness, and generous love, each dimension fitting into and developing the others. With these qualities active and growing in your lives, no grass will grow under your feet, no day will pass without its reward as you mature in your in your experience of our Master Jesus. 2 Peter 1:6-9 The Message

From Whom All Blessings Flow

2008-03-22T08:14:00.011-04:00

The winter has been long, and spring is here:

Two days old.

Freezing snow has been standing in line with warming sun,

A weather conversation of politeness-

"You go." "No really, you go." "No, please you first." "Oh, no, I couldn't."

Thaw. Freeze. Melting warm followed by an arctic blast.

It shows in the river near my home.

With saturated ground, new rain joins the brook which is raging in its pace.

Flooded beyond the banks.

The month has been long, and Easter is here-

Resurrection Day tomorrow.

Harsh burdens and brokenness standing in the presence of God,

A heart conversation of desperation-

"I need you." "You were created to need Me." "Clean my heart." "I have grace for you."

Embrace. Salvation. Love. Forgiveness.

It shows as a light in the darkness of his home.

With saturated ground, this new love joins the life which has been raging at its pace.

Flooded beyond the banks.

Nothing compares to sharing Jesus

With a heart who is searching for His love.

My heart is full and overflowing its riverbanks

Acknowledging the blessings of God.

Our God redeems and saves.

Our God takes crooked roads and makes them straight.

Our God takes broken lives and makes them beautiful.

Life is full of joy and I praise God

From whom ALL blessings flow.

jsi

Celebrate and embrace the amazing love story of God's love in the Resurrection of Christ Jesus. Grasp and know the humbling mystery of God - Christ in you, the hope of glory!

How much more, then, will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered Himself unblemished to God, cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death, so that we may serve the living God! For this reason Christ is the mediator of a new covenant, that those who are called may receive the promised eternal inheritance - now that He has died as a ransom to set them free from the sins committed under the first covenant. Hebrews 9:14-15 (NIV)

At one time you all had your backs turned to God, thinking rebellious thoughts of Him, giving Him trouble every chance you got. But now, by giving Himself completely at the Cross, actually dying for you, Christ brought you over to God's side and put your lives together, whole and holy in His presence. The mystery in a nutshell is just this: Christ is in you, therefore you can look forward to sharing in God's glory. It's that simple. Colossians 1:21-23; 27. (The Message)

A Book Recommendation

2008-03-18T16:08:00.005-04:00

I have always enjoyed reading and find that I choose a variety of different titles and categories to keep in my bag, different friends to spend time with. I always have a book in hand, a reading in progress, or find myself in conversation with someone about what they are reading and why. Sometimes these books are for leisure, sometimes from recommendation and frequently from this Master's of Divinity degree, some are assigned. The book listed, The Lost Letters of Pergamum by Bruce W. Longenecker and Ben Witherington happens to fulfill all three, and turned out to be an inspirational, educational, moving page turner.

Do yourself a big favor and stop by the bookstore, or the library or check online and download this volume. It is a fictional novel, written within the format of an exchange of letters, but is filled will specific facts and history which help share an well-rounded representation of the early Christian church.

Such as letters written in the contemporary history of the gospels of Mark, Luke and Matthew have the person who wrote the letter listed first, describing their placement in relation to the recipient, or social status or other power affiliations. For most letters, the first line was akin to a resume - short, sweet and to the point.

Though fictional in format, the authors took several opportunities to include details of city government, honor codes between men and women/slaves and masters, the building and function of the gladiatorial games, the different class levels of slavery and ancient hospitality. Authentic history is dressed up in a business casual outfit - you can't help but learn something new each chapter.

One cool subject encountered (okay, it was cool to me!) is the matter of how communities developed a library. Wealthy individuals would be in search of certain authors and works, like Homer's Iliad, and an owner would lend it understanding that there would be scribe slaves and artisans drawn together to copy it to create a new copy, frequently adding new illustrations, improved bindings and covers. There were no levels of copyright protection for ideas or works of literature; there were no publishing houses or guilds which protected the product of a book or song or artwork. Once a copy had been made, the original would be returned from whom it was borrowed.

It was within this library development circumstance that the Gospel of Luke is acquired as a copy to produce a copy for a wealthy citizen's collection. The letters which follow this initial encounter develop the scheme of the book. The reader is given the privilege to watch a friendship develop, a faith in Christ shared and an inspirational encouragement to the progress of evangelism.

The central theme of this book is the profound impact friendship and faith have upon each other. Evangelism is not a "tag, you're it!" experience, exalted by the hundreds of touches you can have with bustin' some souls for the name of statistics or notches within a spiritual belt. Instead, the author focuses in the profound placement authentic friendship includes to a full, transformational relationship with the living Savior, Christ Jesus. The authors accentuate the growth of friendship and the length of time one contact in the journey of evangelism actually lasted. It was not merely reading the gospel of Luke that brought about faith, but shared meals, overnight hospitality, numerous letters and communications, visiting a few churches

Friendship is important - it is not trivial or superficial. Friendship which is not reliant upon second and third layer agendas, but from a love which grows out of the desire to seek the best for another person. God honors friendship, it is a gift from Him and a relationship which He sanctifies.

Open yourself up to the friends who are around you, share who you are, share yourself and your faith. Share your faith through a mutual love, and stay encouraged for the long road that journey of evangelism may be. Someone's salvation may be waiting in the wings, simply needing the action of your friendship.

"Jesus, undeterred, went right ahead and gave his charge: 'God authorized and commanded me to comission you: Go out and train everyone you meet, far and near, in this way of life, ,arking them with baptism in the threefold name: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Then instruct them in the practice of all I have commanded you. I'll be with you as you do this, day after day, right up to the end of the age.'" Matthew 28:18-20 The Message

Crosses

2008-03-12T21:50:00.013-04:00

Summer sunset Camp Allegheny Cross photo taken by Annie Buckles xanga.com/anniebuck

When I survey the wondrous cross on which the King of Glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss, and pour contempt on all my pride.

Autumn Glory Camp Allegheny Cross photo taken by Annie Buckles xanga.com/anniebuck

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast, save in the death of Christ my God!
All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to His blood.

St. Stephen United Church of Christ, Sandusky, OH Lent 2007

See from His head, His hands, His feet, sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet, or thorns compose so rich a crown?

St. Stephen's United Church of Christ, Sandusky OH Lent 2007

His dying crimson, like a robe, spreads o’er His body on the tree;
Then I am dead to all the globe, and all the globe is dead to me.

photo taken by Major Steve Howard xanga.com/smhski

Were the whole realm of nature mine, that were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all.

Isaac Watts

Sandusky Community Church of the Nazarene, Sandusky OH Lent 2007

But now a righteousness apart from God, apart from the law, has been made known, to which the Law and the Prophets testify. This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God and are justified freely by His grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. God presented Him as a sacrifice of atonement. Romans 3:21-25
You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates His own for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:6-8
What then, shall we say in response to this? If God be for us, who can be against us? he who did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for us all - how will he not also, along with Him, graciously give us all things? In all things, we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neighter death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:31-32; 37-39

Holy Snowglobe, Batman!

2008-03-07T14:53:00.003-05:00

I left for class this morning at 5:50 a.m., with not a single flake on the ground. There was no ice remaining from the ice storms, the roads were dry and the sky was clear. I made my 100 mile trip in awesome time. It has been a class tradition to have to face severe winter storms every single stinking Friday. The extra layer of trickiness has been when T.A.N.K. have their school cancelled - oy vey! So this morning, it felt like a treat, a breeze, a piece of cake and I even had enough time to stop at StarBucks for a "Venti Earl Grey Tea Misto, nonfat, no water, extra foam, sugar-free vanilla, leave the bag in please." We don't have a StarBucks in town, so its nice to get my fix of a London Fog when I can.

Yet within 10 minutes of arriving to Ashland Theological Seminary campus the flurries start flying and the alert for the severe winter storm is broadcast. Four hours later as we emerge from our New Testament class, the accumalation is phenomenal.

Instead of a 1 hour 25 minute drive, I just got home from a 3 hour 15 minute drive, in white out conditions, unable to drive any faster than 28 mph.

I am so glad to be home!

And since I took my laptop with me to class this morning instead of using my Palm T X and keyboard, I could access my Lotus Notes and find out, one after another, all of my obligations this weekend are cancelled, postponed, rearranged for another day. I went to class with 6 important, pressing responsibilities/privileges/concerts and came out with only worship on Sunday a.m. And right now, that has a question mark as to the condition on Sunday morning early. I have the phone numbers needed and the text and songs to tell everyone if necessary. Have you ever needed to cancel morning worship? I've only needed to do it once in 10 years, for conditions exactly what I am facing right now. Now, that being said, our family has been the only people who arrived for worship on some poor weather days, but we were there and we still had a condensed form of worship - though I will say, it kind of leaves me feeling very low when that happens.

I hate to get the schedule rescramble because of poor weather - we have had so much poor weather! Nothing seems more difficult than the cancel/postpone/reschedule - I've already promised all of that future time away. Yet, it means not having to conquer the Tundra tonight, tomorrow and driving hundreds of miles on Sunday.

Stay in, stay warm, stay dry, stay safe.

Blazing ice

2008-03-07T05:22:00.005-05:00

The ice storm this week brought frigid temperatures but exquisite views. It hampered my schedule, programs, attendance, safe driving and daily expectations. My kids waited with bated breath in front of the television, expecting a snow day from school, and only to find out there would be school. The ice storms brought such extra weight on the power lines, pulling them down all over the rural area which encompasses our city. Our middle school had to close 25 minutes after all the kids got there. T. got a day off from school, yet A.N. and K. were at the elementary school, which is far removed from the Middle School. A.N. and K. stayed in school, and T. gloated for a day and 1/2.
Our corps driveway has a dramatic decline and incline, which turns dangerous in this type of weather. So, even though we plowed and salted, there were only 4-6 parking spots which were safe and being used. This week was planned for our League of Mercy Lenten visits for the city nursing homes. The gifts had already been sorted and counted, waiting to be delivered on Wednesday morning, which coincindentally followed the worst of the ice storms we received. My home phone was ringing madly, phone call after phone call found me crossing one name off the list after another, those who were unable or unwilling to travel out in the weather.
I found myself gazing at one name remaining, and I expected she would not be meeting me either, that she had just neglected to call to cancel. But my calendar did not have room for postponement and rescheduling. I don't intend to be inflexible or rigid, but the rest of my Lent has been promised out. As I drove to the corps, I knew there was a terrific chance I would be delivering these three nursing homes on my own. It would take a bit longer, adding at least three hours to the day, but this is what the day was planned for, right?!.
I waited at the corps until 9:45 a.m., the planned time, and walking into my lobby was the only volunteer who hadn't called me. She and her family had lost power 24 hours earlier, no phone, no furnace, no lights and her previous day had included many altered forms of regular life - men and grandsons splitting wood for the constant fire in the two fireplaces, cooking with dutch ovens and camp griddles over the fire, shoveling the cars out of the driveway, etc.
Yet, despite her added complications and difficulties, she knew there was only one place she would be at 10 a.m. on Wed. She didn't do it for me (but I sure appreciated her helping hands), she didn't do it for her family (they needed her at home), or even for the residents in the three homes we visited. She did is exclusively for God. The people that we saw that day have become familiar to me, having been to their rooms several times already. Some of our other gifts are sitting on their shelves or folded on their beds or hanging on their wheelchairs, showing that they have been used and needed.
"Thank you for the War Cry...I enjoy another article about God," shared one gentleman who, though has shown sign of physical improvement, will not be leaving this facility just yet. "You chose a shorter hair style: I love it!" I declare as I walk into M. room, her style amazingly with every hair in place.
"Please don't leave yet, I need you to pray..."
No matter how shorthanded we might have been, there always has to be time to pray.
Lord, thank you for being our supply of encouragement and stamina, preventing use from letting a few obstacles get in the way of Your work. Help me to always, ALWAYS see your activity.

God has made everything beautiful in its time.

He has also set eternity in the hearts of men;

yet man cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.

Ecclesiastes 3:11

Blazing Ice

2008-03-07T05:10:00.002-05:00

Home sweet winter home

Glistening diamonds

Blazing ice

Crystal touch

Stamina to say what needs to be said

2008-02-27T15:27:00.006-05:00

Currently Reading

Text in a Whirlwind: A Critique of Four Exegetical Devices at 1 Timothy 2.9-15 (Journal for the Study of the New Testament. Supplement Series, 196.) John Mark Holmes

Treat people as if they were what they ought to be and you help them to become what they are capable of being. ~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

You need to be aware of what others are doing, applaud their efforts, acknowledge their successes, and encourage them in their pursuits. When we all help one another, everybody wins. ~Jim Stovall

The spirited horse, which will try to win the race of its own accord, will run even faster if encouraged. ~Ovid

Appreciation can make a day - even change a life, Your willingness to put it into words is all that is necessary. ~Margaret Cousins

Do you hear yourself say things again and again like this...?

Cracked me up! A mom's work is never done and a mom's sentence is never finished.
When my family was listening to this, they each laughed out loud at different places...something just tickled their funny bone more than other statements. ("That's you mom" or "I've heard that more than once")

Although you may not have a soundtrack accompaniment to deliver your words of guidance (but wouldn't that be super cool?!.), continue to share your words of hope. People are turning to you, formally and informally, for your perspective, your input, your guidance. Let your language be seasoned with God's grace.

You may feel like you are saying the same things again and again, and no one is hearing them. No one seems to pay attention to what you are sharing. But keep giving encouragement, continue bringing hope.

Your spouse needs to hear hope from you. Your siblings need to hear encouragement from you. Your friends need to hear praise from you. Your children need to hear love from you. Your neighbors need to hear understanding from you. Your colleagues need to hear patience and flexibility from you. Pray to God that He will be the influence over your words, your speaking.

Keep saying the words, God's words, that need to be heard. Keep reaffirming that someone of their personal beauty, both inside and out. Say it again and again and again...it needs to be heard! Share the love of Jesus and God's desire to draw people close to Him. Say it again and again and again...it needs to be heard! Avoid being subtle and try to segue Jesus into your conversation, be transparent about your sharing of the Gospel. Share the story of salvation from sin with a friend who needs to know God. Continually offer the story of God's love, evangelizing this family invitation to become a child of God. Continue to encourage the strength which is shown, especially through weakness.

Use every opportunity to accentuate the positive and eliminate the negative - there is too much despair in this world and not enough hope.

"Because, because, because, because!"

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers." Galatians 6:9-10 NIV

Without Exception

2008-02-18T23:55:00.008-05:00

Divine Servant in front of Gerber Auditorium, Ashland Theological Seminary

Jesus
Willing to serve,
Compelled by compassion.
Washing the daily filth from their feet.
The water in the bowl spilling out, uncontainable, extravagant.
He now showed them the full extent of His love.
Bending, reaching, stretching, pouring, rinsing, cleansing –
Forgiving.
Jesus is on His knees.
Serving.
The future would hold
Betrayal from one,
Denial from one,
Deserting, disowning, disloyalty
From each person He humbly served.
Yet every foot was washed, every one without exception.
Jesus’ humble service brought cleansing to feet.
Jesus’ humble touch brings cleansing to hearts.
Every heart can be washed, every one without exception.
From each heart He can humbly cleanse
Sinfulness, wickedness, bitterness.
Brokenness from one,
Failure from one -
The past has held.
Serving.
Jesus on His cross –
Forgiving.
Bending, reaching, stretching, pouring, rinsing, cleansing –
The love of God spilling out, uncontainable, extravagant.
He now shows us the full extent of His love.
Washing the daily filth from our hearts.
Compelled by compassion,
Willing to serve,
Jesus.

jsi

It was just before the Passover Feast. Jesus knew that the time had come for Him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved His own who were in this world, He now showed them the full extent of His love. The evening meal was being served, and the devil had already prompted Judas Iscariot, son of Simon, to betray Jesus. Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under His power, and that He had come from God and was returning to God; so He got up from the meal, took off His outer clothing and wrapped a towel around His waist. After that He poured water into a basin and began to wash disciples' feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around Him.
John 13:1-5 NIV

Just before the Passover Feast, Jesus knew that the time had come to leave this world to go to the Father. Having loved His dear companions, He continued to love them right to the end. It was suppertime. The Devil by now had Judas, son of Simon the Iscariot, firmly in his grip, all set for the betrayal. Jesus knew that the Father had put Him in complete charge of everything, that He came from God and was on His way back to God. So He got up from the supper table, set aside His robe, and put on an apron. Then He poured water into a basin and began to wash the feet of the disciples, drying them with his apron.
John 13:1-5 The Message

Peacemakers

2008-02-12T21:50:00.005-05:00

Currently Reading An Emergent Theology for Emerging Churches By Ray S. Anderson

We must be the change we wish to see. Mahatma Gandhi

I do not want the peace that passeth understanding. I want the understanding which bringeth peace. Helen Keller

There never was a good war or a bad peace. Benjamin Franklin

One is left with the horrible feeling now that war settles nothing; that to win a war is as disastrous as to lose one. Agatha Christie

When the power of love overcomes the love of power the world will know peace. Jimi Hendrix

Peace is not the absence of conflict but the presence of creative alternatives for responding to conflict -- alternatives to passive or aggressive responses, alternatives to violence. Dorothy Thompson

The gentle snowfall outside is reflected luminously through the moonshine, cascading gracefully onto the front yard, and it looks exquisite. The blanche covering of snow has mounded into small dunes, all from the plows and shovels and namely, the wind. These elements have all created a tiny mountain range, one peak following another, like the Grand Tetons, but instead of exploding across the western plain, its in your front yard. Its our homegrown winter version - these tiny Tetons are close to a pine tree in the corner of the yard and I don't want to walk near it for fear of accidentally destroying it.

This is the first time it has been anything described as gentle in these past few days. This winter storm has kept us all inside, only going out for the most necessary of reasons. I'm glad I had made a pharmacy run on Friday a.m. for insulin, glucose tabs and glucose strips. We needed to dash out this afternoon for specific lightbulbs as the last one in the bathroom burned out - rats! School has been canceled, corps programs canceled, music rehearsals and sports practices postponed to be rescheduled at some later date. Seeing the school listing in the morning to notice our schools were canceled again brought a sigh of relief ("A little more sleep" "A pajama day") and also a string of phone calls to "take care of the day."

Since the weekend included MidWinter Retreat for me and T., Dave got A.N.K. to Grandma's house - yippee! Everyone accomplished a great deal this weekend and we caught up with each other at Bob Evans on Sunday evening to share jokes and antedotes over syrup, omelettes, bacon and biscuits.

Needless to say, from spending two days at Grandma's and then two days home from school, my kids have seen more of each other than normal. We have had relaxing days in the schedule - not having to travel to so many places or programs to have completed - but they have also brought their own tension. Quiet moments have been shared but so have some quick and fierce arguments. A reading time has melted down from a quick poke to the head and a dash down the hall with a full-fledged linebacker tackle. I enjoy spending time with my children, treasuring their individual personalities, but they themselves don't seem to enjoy the cornucopia of personality their TANKness can bring.

They've been getting on each other's nerves.

As we were at N. soccer game last night, we found in the stands that our other friends are experiencing the same cabin fever quarrelsomeness. We parents watched the game (which N.s team won 6-1 woohoo) as the siblings all played and ran and spun and laughed and ran some more. "This morning was a fight about boogers..." was one lament, as another described the argument that happened about which color of pink was pretty and which was blecky. "Tag, you're it" has easily dissolved into a wrestling match...

...speaking of tag, I've been tagged from Ali. (Hello Ali...)

1. Pick up the nearest book, of at least 123 pages 2. Turn to page 123 3. Count down 5 sentences 4. Post the next three sentences 5. Tag 5 more people
There is a pile at my chair. My nearest book is Heart Talks on Holiness, Samuel Logan Brengle (only 117 pages). Next is God's High Calling For Women by John MacArthur (only 75 pages), so what is next is The Complete Illustrated Shakespeare edited by Howard Staunton. Page 123 is Comedy of Errors, Act II., Adriana's monologue, expressing her open heart to her husband. "Wouldst thou not spit at me, and spurn at me, and hurl the name of husband in my face, and tear the stain'd skin off my harlot brow, and from my false hand cut the wedding-ring, and break it with a deep-divorcing vow? I know thou canst, and therefore see thou do it. I am possess'd with an adulterate blot; my blood is mingled with the grime of lust:For, if we two be one, and thou play false, I do digest the poison of thy flesh, being strumpeted by thy contagion." Whoa, not good, not good at all.

I tag Evelyn Clark http://koli8.blogspot.com, Tim Clark http://clarkid.blogspot.com, Tim Miller http://thesearemychurchclothes.blogspot.com, Rochelle McAllister http://johnandrochelle.blogspot.com and Marta Agerhttp://frommartasvineyard.blogspot.com

Anyway...

...much of what has happened each hour has required me to be a peacemaker. Sometimes, it has resorted to different corners for 5 minutes until behavior has changed. Sometimes it has included increased chores (they did every load of laundry and vacuumed each bedroom).

Being the peacemaker has not been the easiest spot these past few days: its messy, stressful, filled with conflict in need of solutions, some name calling, some hurt feelings, some resistance to correction, some strong words, some tearfelt apologies. I have reached for the bottle of Advil more than once, and even "volunteered" to shovel the driveway, actually needing to take a breather outside in the frigid air to collect myself so I didn't lose control.

********************************************************************************
early a.m. edit - our school system is closed again for Wednesday. We have another day to get this right. Peace, peace, perfect peace...
********************************************************************************

When Jesus gave his teaching in Matthew 5:9, what we term as The Sermon on the Mount, He highlighted different circumstances in life which are not easy within which to live. "Blessed are the peacemakers for they will be called the sons of God." Jesus did not accentuate the act of loving peace as the supreme condition here. He illuminates the process of making peace - of keeping peace. These two things, loving peace and making peace, are two different things.

Are you experiencing conflict today, in the midst of a power struggle, a tug of war over choices and opinions? Have you found your circumstance void of easy or simple solutions, you needing to get more than one person to see life through another's eyes? Are you finding yourself in the throes of making peace, and you are reaching for the Advil from the headache it has all caused within your spirit? Reach deep for the strength God has for you and know He is including you in His activity, His work. Making peace is God's divine touch, and though it is never easy, it is always needed.

Peace is at hand, God's peace, and you can be the instrument of His divine peace. You are His child when you are within His activity. Bring the peace of God today.

Here's Your Sign

2008-02-06T14:05:00.001-05:00

Currently Reading Plenty: One Man, One Woman and a Raucous Year of Eating Locally By Alisa Smith, J.B. Mackinnon

"Epileptics know by signs when attacks are imminent and take precautions accordingly; we must do the same in regard to anger. " Seneca

“He that is thy friend indeed, he will help thee in thy need:
If thou sorrow, he will weep; if thou wake, he cannot sleep.
Thus of every grief in heart, he with thee does bear a part.
These are certain signs to know faithful friend from flattering foe.”

William Shakespeare

'For business reasons, I must preserve the outward signs of sanity." Mark Twain

“When we become aware that we do not have to escape our pains, but that we can mobilize them into a common search for life, those very pains are transformed from expressions of despair into signs of hope” Henri Nouwen

Here are a few signs from around our vicinity and within our lives.

I swear this is exactly what I thought Charlie Brown in Schultz's Peanuts comic was going to do when he grew up. And look at that, he lives in my town!

Some signs are just plain sad.

Some signs, like the above and below, give good advice...

These two signs show gas prices, expressing how much they have been jumping around lately. Gas prices have reached as high as $3.17 a gallon and been as low as $2.75. (I wish I had a picture of that one - I'd frame it! Oh when will gas prices go down?!.)

The sign of a good sermon...

A serious resoultion to make, one which can become perpetual...

Some signs are encouragement, not only to trusting that God is in charge of everything, but in a testimony shared.

Some signs are just plain funny. My kids laugh for 2 or 3 minutes everytime after passing this sign in town, using a deep voice for God, or coming up with arguements to hear God say to stop it.

I could call my husband the Pie Dude from this sign and just smile and smile and smile. Who couldn't be happy working in Dave's Pie Shack with the Pie Dude himself?

This sign is from a city in which we used to live, a pic taken quite a while ago. I enjoy its humor, like the knock-knock joke variety. Having a blast at the quarry...yep, still funny to me.

My favorite, though, is one I don't have as a picture. I couldn't get a good focus on because it was so large. As I am driving through these winding, rural roads I pass this one barn a few times a week. Illuminating the night, with giant red letters covering nearly the entire barn is glowing, "HALLELUJAH! WHAT A SAVIOR!"

When I am tired, cranky, frustrated, empty I see this enormous sign and begin to pray, "Oh Lord, thank you, thank you, thank you." Gratitude is a very humbling attitude. I would be lost and broken without my Savior. It is a sign of hope for me, a physical reminder that there is hope today because of Jesus.

I am confident of this: I would have given up long ago if I had not seen the LORD of hope in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD: be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD. Psalm 27:13-14

Time Keeper

2008-01-31T12:58:00.000-05:00

Currently Reading
Red Moon Rising: How 24-7 Prayer is Awakening a Generation
By Peter Greig, Dave Roberts

When you sit with your hand in a hot oven for two minutes, it seems like two hours. When you sit holding hands with a beautiful girl for two hours, it seems like two minutes. That, gentlemen, is relativity. ~ Albert Einstein

Yesterday is a cancelled check: tomorrow is a promissory note. Today is the only cash you have - so spend it wisely. ~ Kay Lyons

My religion consists of a humble admiration of the unlimitable Superior Spirit who reveals Himself in the slight details we are able to perceive with our frail and feeble mind. ~ Albert Einstein

We are at the ice rink early as usual, giving T. time to put on his equipment for the impending hockey game. 37 minutes to puck drop. These teenage warriors all converge on the locker room with their joking conversations, fun ribbing of each other. We parents take three giant steps back when they open the door - there is nothing in all sportsdome that rivals the gaseous stench of what can only be described as hockey funk. We love these manlings in our presence - they can be quite thoughtful and sweet deep down - but they are rank when they get off the ice, and it simply lingers within the locker room. I only have to transport one hockey player - his equipment, sweaty uniform and body can be unbeliveably pungent when you travel in a van which has heat. But that locker room keeps their collective vileness, and that from the team before, knocking over whoever dares to defy the Dante inscription over the door : "Abandon all hope ye who enter here."

They have spent a great deal of time with each other this year, with two to three practices a week and two games a weekend. They've been with each other against the toughest teams who practically skated circles around them, and those against whom they were evenly matched, sharing blow for blow, their shots on goal nearly identical. Some games were rife with penalties, tempers flaring and the desire to "teach a lesson to that number 81," whereas others went without a offending whistle. T. was so proud the day he took a giant check and it knocked out one of his teeth. But his pride was my horror - "What do you mean a tooth is out?" only to examine it was one of his stubborn baby teeth, a tiny molar who was destined to come out that day or the next. With relief, I relaxed knowing he wouldn't have a gaping grin with a front tooth missing, able to slurp his spaghetti with vigor. The Cyclones have been the tournament champions in each tournament they've skated - this has been an exceptional year! T. has acquired new friends on the ice and we have acquired new friends in the families in the stands.

Today, I am in the penalty box as time keeper.

This task is shared by all the parents twice during the season - some get to be the door handlers for the team during shift changes, others manage the penalty bench. And time keeper is another job which gets handed around.

I haven't done this yet, so I am getting some input from the previous mom, pointing and explaining, describing and giving examples. There are important details to keep in mind...there are three periods ("Show it like this", time stops and starts with the whistle only ("Flip switch here")some things are automatic,("You start this and the horn will sound, or the penalty will erase or the timeout will clear")and some are waiting for you to manipulate the.

Okay, ready, steady, go!

The game went smooth, with only one error from me. On this panel the time switch is exactly next to the horn switch - they are the same shape and color - and when I thought I was starting the time for an offsides start, I actually sounded the horn. T.'s shift was on the ice when it happened, and I swear I could hear his "Oh mom" strickly from his body language and posture. I'd like to die, just crawl under the counter and die.

Being the time keeper in this hockey game was fun and engaging, letting me be closer to the ice and more involved with the game than I typically am.
Being the time keeper in our home these past 14 days has been exhausting and challenging, demanding and necessary.

Dave has been in Wilmore KY these two weeks, completing the last J-term for his MDiv. and this has been the fifth year in a row he leaves us on Martin Luther King Jr. weekend and returns in February. He only needs to be on campus once a year, in January, and it is only for 2 weeks. Only for two weeks.

But those two weeks at home with our four children and ministry pass in a different perspective than his in classroom parameters. I encounter healthy children 50 weeks out of the year, only to have them getting sick during this 2 week time. Ear infections, flu, bronchitis - you name it, it has happened and it miraculously lifts right before Groundhog's day.

We have ministry and sports programs in our corps four nights of the week, having me with our children opening doors, pumping up soccer balls/basketballs, shagging pop flies. My daughter A. can make an amazing pot of coffee and my son N. can figure out all things electronic. My son T. is an exceptional baby sitter for 2 year olds and my daughter K. is a very well-spoken secretary, showing she can take an accurate and thorough message.

Our days have been very full, every hour jam-packed with obligations and responsibilities, fun and laughter, places to be and miles to travel to get there.

The pastoral calls of these weeks have required long conversations, explanations, an extra visit - extra time taken, spent, lavishly spread even though each minute has
been in short supply.

The sermons have been holiness.

My own college courses have required more than 1000 pages of reading, with several trips to the library.

As Albert Eistein said, how you spend your time (and with whom) can be the greatest mystery and revelation of relativity.

God gives us every minute we encounter. Today has been prepared for you like a gift, prepared in detail, protected and offered with love and grace. God has been the divine Time Keeper, opening the day with an incredible sunrise or an extreme winter storm warning. Embrace you gift of today: its minutes are fleeting, passing, ticking, perishable. Our plans, visions and advance preparations for the future, these are all important, necessary and essential - but live within the present day you have.

God knows what is in store for you today - it is not a mystery to Him. He is there with you to celebrate with you in the joy of it, or to help shoulder the entirety of the grief it bears.

Invest yourself in someone today, sharing the good news of God's love in a practical and visible way. Fill your minutes with praise to Jesus. Drive with generosity and forgiveness. Laugh with strength and joy. Call that person who has come to your mind - God has reminded you of them for a reason. Look straight into the eyes of 5 people around you and see God's beauty in them. Encourage and build up those around you.

Touch. Smile. Cry. Live.

Relish and use every minute God has entrusted to you.

"TODAY is the day that the LORD has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it." Psalm 118:24

The Arms of Jesus

2008-01-25T00:28:00.000-05:00

Currently reading
The Lost Letters of Pergamum: A Story from the New Testament World
by Bruce W. Longenecker

"Cats are smarter than dogs. You can't get 8 cats to pull a sled through the snow." Jeff Valdez

"Courage is not the towering oak that sees storms come and go. Courage is the fragile blossom that opens in the snow." Alice Swaim

"Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up and snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather." John Ruskin

"Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams go, life is a barren field, frozen with snow." Langston Hughes
The snowflakes gather in their own flurries, blowing from the west in softball-sized bundles. The frozen, blustery day outside forces us all to pull on our winter layers, guaranteeing a sweater, matching mittens, heavy socks, resizing last year's boots, making sure they fit. They are only needed for such a short time of the year, but when needed, there is nothing to replace them. The mercury in the outside thermometer seemed to be frozen in place: -7 degrees Fahrenheit. I do not need a cup of coffee or tea this morning to wake me completely, just an intake of air forces every atom in my being to stand at attention. Each breath is so cold is feels like a caterpillar of nails is inching down to my lungs with each gulp of oxygen. It hurts, slightly, and brings energy, activity and adrenaline. "There's only one way to face this, and that's to just keep moving!" The driveway will need shoveling, and it becomes like a job that truly has no ending, only a certain beginning. As the flakes are falling and I reach the end of our driveway, there is a driveway next to mine and across the street. "Its really only another 5 minutes," I whisper to myself as I walk up and down each driveway with my magic shovel.

Yes, author Roald Dahl may have written about a magical world with an incredible chocolate factory, magic golden tickets and magic candy recipes and amazing helpers. Roald Dahl had magic in his mind: I have magic in my hand with my magic shovel. Its a giant blade, lightweight with a large U-shaped handle which permits a shoveler to conquer an 18" path. She's called "Trusty" and she's been in our possession since we lived in Maine over 15 years ago. There's only been one winter since 1993 that didn't need the help and expertise of Ol' Trusty, yet some locations have needed her touch more than others. Winter in Maine is a snow in early November that stays and becomes the winter foundation for the next layer, and then the next, and so on. Winter in the Berkshire Mountains of Massachusetts was a steady expectation of one winter storm after another, followed by days and days of crisp and clear coldness which preserved the cleansing effect the snowfall had brought. Yet winter in PA and OH has been an experiment in how many inches could fall in one day and then melt the next. Winter in these Midwest parts is more likened to "flurry freeze, then hurry leave" than the New England regions we have lived. And through these variant snow flurries, nor'easters, ice storms, white outs, dumps and lake effects, Ol' Trusty has been given the once over inspection and used with ease. You can power up your snowblower with fuel and noise and I will still give you a run for your money. With a determined pace, one can have victory over the snow, so in less than 30 minutes, I had conquered three driveways and a sidewalk. Very nice.

With the driveways tackled, the school bus arrives to whisk young learners off to their educational nirvana of books and calculations. My van has defrosted the windshields and gotten to a cozy temperature inside. As I turn right at the stop sign I check the rearview mirror to treasure the look of this new fallen snow and its beauty - Exquisite.

The snow is not dangerous or threatening to me or my family - we are stocked up and prepared for the effects the cold, chilly winter blast can bring from the Snow Miser. Its really a fun part of the calendar - we get to throw snowballs, to see our breath when we pretend we are like a train (Chugga chugga, whoo whoo!) But as I turn into the parking lot of my corps, I can examine that there are many with us this morning who are very vulnerable to this frigid turn in the weather. Winter is dangerous to them, spending untold amount of hours exposed to the extreme weather. Pneumonia and bronchitis is an expected fact of life, and one prolonged sickness could bring drastic results. "How many needed to sleep outside last night?" resonates in my heart, "or in their car? Oh, Lord please help them."

They've come for day-old baked goods, which will be ready in about 15 minutes, but also for another opportunity to be inside, to thaw, to think a thought, a single thought. It is as if they could all be a character described by Earnest Hemingway, these souls reveling in this "Clean Well-Lighted Place." I bring out the large box of gloves, hats and socks and the small barrel of children's sizes, knowing that they are needed today more than most. There's enough for everyone if they look through what is available - some will, others may not. Some will carry some for someone else, hoping they will fit or be the right color. Yesterday, someone had brought in a man's coat as a donation, extra large, and there is someone today who is wearing it, grateful that it can replace the flannel sweatshirt he had been using to fend off the cold. As I stand with one familiar face, I rub her hands gently as she describes the night - she was able to stay with a friend for a few weeks. There are no cute cliches right now, "Cold hands, warm heart"...everyone's hands are cold, and these few minutes inside waiting is a gentle respite. Another someone is brewing the coffee and additional hot water for hot chocolate or tea. The waiting time is brief it seems, merely 15 minutes, but it can be interlaced and traced with dignity- intentional, specific, compassionate dignity.

And it didn't cost any of us a single, solitary thing.

Christ reaches out to the world in many of these photos - statues, stained glass, monuments, sepulchres, sacred art, and they all speak a specific word of Christ reaching to the world and reaching to God. They are all very Scriptural, inspirational and motivational.

Even though they are all beautiful, masterful, it is this lower statue of Jesus, this one which captures the vibrance of my heart and holds me, almost unable to breathe: Jesus without his arms. It is obvious from the structure of the folds of his robes and the posture of His back and shoulders, Jesus is reaching out, possibly even reaching up and an accident has separated His arms from the structure. The striking perspective found within this statue, for the Christian believer is this : Jesus needs us to be His arms.

The divine touch of God's compassionate love and forgiveness needs to be shared with the relevant, time-bound arms of this generation. Not the saints of the past or the future, but the present compassion of a believer today. God's love getting shared with your fingerprints, your touch, your wit, your openness, your insight and perspective - this is God's holy mission! God's holy love, shared through Christ - we are His arms! Sharing God's love can be as direct as watching a single mother's children while she grocery shops, or changing the lightbulbs for an elderly man; it might show up as a chance to sit and listen to a story from a nearly forgotten war or a recent heartbreak of disappointment. Is your closet bursting with too many coats, shirts, dresses, shoes? Is there someone who will benefit from your careful generosity?

You are the arms of Christ, reaching into this world - right now - with all the resources, talents and convictions God has blessed you. You carry His touch. You make the bridge connection that crosses the chasm of brokenness, all in the name of reaching out as the arms of Christ. Don't let your actions be construed as a gentleman's obligation or a lady's thoughtfulness. Make sure you share the name of Jesus in your reaching. You carry the story of God's love.

Reaching out is evangelism at its best. Jesus reminds His believers that the most important gist of devotional faith is loving God and loving each other.

Reach out lovingly. Reach out with strength and purpose. Reach out with your whole heart, ready to give, listen, haul, move, cook, clean, advocate, sing, build up.

Reach out as the arms of Jesus.

"If we are out of our mind, it is for the sake of God. If we are in our right mind, it is for you. For Christ's love compels us , because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And Christ died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for Christ who died for them and was raised again. So from now on we regard no one from a wordly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! All this is from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to Himself in Christ, not counting men's sins against them. And He has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ's ambassadors, as though God were making His appeal through us." 2 Corinthians 5:13-20 NIV

Compassion in a Pot

2008-01-14T22:49:00.000-05:00

Currently Reading
The Lost Letters of Pergamum: A Story from the New Testament World
By Bruce W. Longenecker, Ben Witherington

The other day, my oldest son was asking me about helping make dinner, what he could do or choose for everyone to eat. As he was standing in the pantry, he listed a few things he saw, but he kept saying "Nope. Nope. Nope" All of his choices had been things he enjoyed, and usually our family would have on the table, except for these past three weeks. In connection with a spiritual fast and time of concentrated prayer, I have been fasting red meat. And it has not been a secret from the kids, but instead, they are essentially fasting just the same.

We fast as a family, and my children know that this one is not as difficult as it first sounded. Fasting is not a demanding list of forbidden choices, but instead it is a healthy nutritional version of achieving two goals - spiritual openness and physical sacrifice and self control.

The choices we have made included some very flavorful things, and still including fish and chicken. They began to understand we eat alot of vegetables anyway, and only have a little bit of meat. I have never felt called to be a vegan eater - oh do I love the smell of cooking meat, or eggs, or cheese! But if God called me into a vegan fasting period, I know we could do it. Sure I would be counting the days...but we could do it.

So his choice was to help make chicken noodle soup and get two loaves worth of bread dough rising. I hope he is able to really learn to make this on his own - candidly speaking, I believe chicken noodle soup has just as much healing powers as the medicine from the pharmacy. Even when it comes from the can, having someone care enough about you to prepare soup for you when you are sick brings God's compassionate caring and healing. Good for the stomach, good for the soul. Since today was a laundry/cleaning/maintenance day at our home, I decided another day of Chicken Noodle Soup and fresh bread will be a great addition to the day.

Chicken Noodle Soup

1 pound of chicken:
For white meat: 2 chicken breasts, with bone and skin (approximately 1 pound)
Or
Dark meat: 4 chicken thighs, with bone and skin (approximately 1 pound)

3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons butter
1 medium onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 medium carrots, cut diagonally into ½ inch-thick slices
2 celery ribs, halved lengthwise, and cut into ½ -inch-thick slices
1 bay leaf
2 quarts chicken stock, homemade or canned

4 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, cubed ½ inch thick
8 ounces dried wide egg noodles
Salt and black pepper to taste
Parsley

Poaching chicken

Using a skillet which has a fitted lid, melt 1 Tbsp butter with 1 Tbsp olive oil over medium heat and then place in chosen chicken pieces, skin side down. Allow poultry to brown, 3-4 minutes. When golden brown, turn and cook another 3-4 minutes. Add 4 cups of hot water to this skillet, cover and reduce heat to simmer for 25 minutes.

When fully poached remove chicken from liquid and allow to cool for 15 minutes. This poaching liquid is available for addition to chicken stock for the soup, after skimming any fat from the top.

Soup

Place a soup pot over medium heat and coat with 2 Tbsp. butter and 2 Tbsp. oil. Add the onion, garlic, carrots, celery, and bay leaf. Cook and stir for about 6 minutes, until the vegetables are softened but not browned. Pour in the chicken stock and bring the liquid to a boil. Add potatoes and cook for 15 minutes. Add the noodles and simmer for 5 minutes until tender. Fold in the chicken, and continue to simmer for another couple of minutes to heat through; season with salt and pepper. Sprinkle with chopped parsley before serving.

Serve up some love for dinner, share it with a neighbor nearby, make it for yourself as a meal that will help you all week. Consider how the ingredients are all so separate, yet when prepared and added, given time and heat, they meld together in a brand new collection of flavor, aroma and nutrition. Compassion in a pot.

I know the fasting period I had set for this time will be over in a few days, and I have to admit I don't believe I will begin eating red meat again. We'll see, but everyone seems to really enjoy the choices we have made. There are a few things which I will try to see if the recipes come near our expectation, such as turkey meatballs. Meatballs have been a favorite meal, so I need to try to make sure its just right. I'll be experimenting with it, be assured. I love how they all really liked spinach pie, and I will make it more often.

I'm not feeling like I need to run out and get a McDonald's hamburger or a steak sandwich, and that alone has felt like a surprise. It has been an important detail to consider that eating vegetarian does not mean becoming dessertetarians.

Embrace and enjoy your day, and stop by and tell me about your pot of Chicken Noodle Soup or your experience with fasting or both. I'd love to hear from you!

Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen to honor, says the LORD God Almighty: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter - when you se the naked, to clothe him, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood? Then your light will break forth like the dawn and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the LORD will answer; you will cry for help, and He will say: Here I AM. Isaiah 58:6-9, NIV.

Fragrance of God

2008-01-11T00:08:00.000-05:00

Currently Reading
Bridge to Terabithia
By Katherine Paterson

"You can call me Flower, if you want to."

As I stand at the kitchen counter, my work space is compact and sublime. My hand grasps the 4 1/2 inch santoku knife carefully but with confidence - this is my all-time favorite knife. I know there are more that come with the set, and I do use the paring knife for peeling potatoes, but when I need to slice or dice something, it is almost always with my trusty santoku. It is balanced and substantial, a trusted agent of movement and precision.

The blade of the knife slides through the medium onions on the cutting board, quickly creating a cubed pile of pale yellow beauty. Three stalks of celery create a heaping pile of variant green pieces of freshness. The peeled carrots offer delectable medallions of sweetness and bright color. As the large pot has 4 tablespoons of butter and some extra virgin olive oil quickly getting very hot, ready for work. This mirepoix is dropped into the heating fat and the delicious sautee becomes enticing, amazingly fragrant. Its fragrance wafts slowly through the kitchen, like a subtle invitation through the whole first floor and up the stairs, alerting any hungry body that mom is making chicken noodle soup.

The smaller pot on the stove contains the orange peels and cinnamon from this morning's breakfast. At other times of the year, my fruit cliche is, "An apple a day keeps the doctor away." And if it was my father saying it, it always has the tag, "when thrown properly!" Galas and Cameos, Braeburns and Yellow Delicious - we sure do love our apples. Fruit is the snack of choice, and that makes me very happy. But during cold and flu season, citrus, in our home, is the king of the fruit bowl and I try to keep the supply of fresh oranges available. It isn't easy with so many people who love a fresh orange. I am very pleased to know that everyone now is old enough to peel their own. I can remember that my thumbnail was permanently orange from December through March, simply from peeling one orange after another. It was never very great when I had a hangnail, that citrus bringing a zinger that doesn't go away even if you wash your hands three or four time. So now, as each of my TANK are getting their snack, they all get to hear, "Please save the peel for me."

I place them all in a pot on the stove, cover them with water, add about 2 teaspoons of cinnamon and a teaspoon of vanilla and put the fire to a simmer. I let them cook all day long, adding water periodically as the concoction reduces and evaporates. The aroma of this savory ambrosia is intoxicating. When I walk in the house from wherever I needed to go, stopping by the stove is the first thing I do. The delicious aroma eliminates the pangs of hunger, bringing such a substantial lusciousness that I feel like I have already eaten something. As it bubbles and simmers, its quiet work brings a fragrance that draws a soul close. It is as if I can see the red fox from The Little Prince standing in the corner, balancing his large cup of Earl Gray below his long pointed nose as he opines the deep wisdom, "On ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur, l'essential est invisible pour les yeux." (It is only with the heart that one can see rightly: what is essential is invisible to the eye.) Antione de Saint-Exupery.

You are the perfume of God's love, walking and talking, loving and leading. God's presence in the life of a believer brings a fragrance from heaven, a holy fragrance interlaced within a holy life. It is not achieved without God's divine work. It cannot be imitated or construed, pretended or hypothetical. A holy life, lived out by God's direction and guidance, brings a fragrance to those around you. Inviting them closer. Bringing them step by step into your inner circle, causing them to stop and breathe in deeply. Pray to God today for the spiritual stamina to remain a beautiful testimony of His love to the dark world today.

There are people around you who are far from God, unsaved, broken. They are not walking through life wearing a sandwich board sign that says "Help Me" but they needs God's help just the same. They are friends, sisters, brothers, neighbors, roommates, landlords, colleagues. Let them breathe in deep from the heavenly perfume that a holy life brings. Bring heaven's encouragement to them, personalized with your hands, your feet, your eyes of compassion, your voice of concern. God's uses believers as the ambassadors of Christ, emissaries of His compassionate mercy and forgiveness. As the bearer of His heavenly fragrance, your devoted work becomes God's work. Every step you take today can spread the heavenly fragrance of God's holiness - spread it lavishly!!! Don't keep it to yourself, bottled up, keeping its immediate fragrance contained to be yours alone. Keep sacred matters at the forefront of your conversations. Don't just assure someone you will pray for them, stop what you are doing and pray right then, right there. Reach out with a hug or a physical form of reassurance. Share your story, your love story with Jesus; let the perfume of your testimony emanate with every step. You may not even leave the house today and still be a giver of God's fragrant perfume. Breathe in deeply of God's sweet fragrance.

Be imitator's of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us a gave Himself up for us as a fragrant offering and a sacrifice to God. Ephesians 5:2.

But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of Him. For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; and to the other, the fragrance of life. And who is equal to the task? Unlike so many, we do not peddle the word of God for profit. On the contrary, in Christ we speak before God with sincerity, like men sent from God. 2 Corinthians 2:15-17

Beauty is the radiance of truth and the fragrance of goodness. Vincent McNabb

Happiness is a perfume you cannot pour on others without getting a few drops on yourself. Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Song of My Heart

2008-01-03T23:53:00.000-05:00

Currently Reading
The Little Prince
By Antoine de Saint-Exupery

We have shared
so many moons in the same canoe,
navigating this river, this journey
~this life.~
20 years
accumulated, collected, preserved, embraced, loved.
You, dear heart, were not tied to count each passing week, month, season:
Instead, your love helped make each of them count.
You, my love, have listened to the song of my heart,
~remembering~
the detailed lyrics and libretto word for word, melody and harmony.
~Remembering~
~Maintaining~
this song from my heart.
Carrying its treasure, retaining its soul.
And when my own heart has lost its song,
Couldn’t remember beauty or joy
You sang it back with tenderness.
You, my love, gave the gift of
~Listening~
~Remembering~
You restored this song with love and purity
And my heart sings again.

jsi

December 1987 and Dave and I had only known each other for a few sparse weeks, yet they were full, brimming with hope, joy and love. The air smelled sweeter, all things were right with the world - I swear even the burgers at McDonald's tasted better. He waited until my shift at work was through, having less than half an hour before his shift would begin across town, to give me a Christmas gift. I had his with me, wrapped days earlier, waiting, expecting, hoping to see him. His whispered words 2 decades ago as he helped me with a new watch, they still resound deeply "Every hour is filled with thoughts of you. You hear the song in my heart."

"Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other
but in looking together in the same direction."
Antoine de Saint-Exupery

"On ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur, l'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux."
(It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye).
Antoine de Saint-Exupery

"My lover is mine and I am his" Song of Songs 2:16 NIV

All I Want For Christmas is My Three Front Teeth

2007-12-28T21:16:00.000-05:00

Merry Christmas

The last apron has been washed, dried and folded, kettle locks all removed, all of the pointsettias picked up and traveled home, jingle bells and extra toys all organized away, UW proposals prepared and delivered, gifts given, cookies prepared and shared - whew, what a season! A marvelous Advent season, in the presence of our LORD, and yet the other side of the same coin has been some very tense communication. This season has included many experiences that have just felt like they haven't been completely in synch, like an unannounced tug of war or an unexpected struggle that doesn't have complete resolution. A little bit like the board game Mousetrap that isn't exactly spaced right so even though all the parts in the chain reaction activate, the final piece, the basket doesn't descend to capture the rodent waiting in the space at the bottom.

Some days were filled with sunshine and glory and others I just felt like a great big Christmas grouch.

I am convicted of the reality that me and my family are very blessed - we are healthy, cared for, fed and protected in shelter, encouraged towards the pursuit of education and love, out of threat and danger. This little black rain cloud that has returned on different days has not been welcome or understood, and then without explanation simply floats away. Somethings were quite funny, others not so much, and many of them dealt with the dentist.

:K. has adopted a new Christmas song for herself, because of her dental experience. "All I want for Christmas is my three front teeth..." K. had a baby tooth in the front space which wouldn't release even though the adult tooth was coming in plain and clear. When arranging a dental visit in July for its extraction (so it wouldn't affect the shape and placement of her grown-up smile) the dentist simply smiled and said so confidently, "I won't need to pull it, its ready to come out any day now. You'll probably lose it at the beach." So not listening to mom, this dentist convinced my baby that all she needed was an apple and a little tongue wiggling and she would be waiting for a visit from the tooth fairy. Ooh, nothing frosts my cupcakes like being ignored! So...18 weeks later there is still a baby tooth, an adult tooth behind it longer than the tooth in front of it and a very frustrated mother who is getting more frustrated as the evening ritual has included a dramatic, forceful tooth wiggling every night in this little mouth. Another visit, in December, this time for a cleaning for everyone and the dentist's look of surprise and embarrassment to recognize that squirrelly tooth still there. I insisted on its extraction again, very insistent this time about its date...it will make all the difference. My family has met the insurance deductible for the year, and all coverage will be 100% until 12/31. What could have been a few weeks wait all of a sudden became a 6 day turn-around and K. finally got that tooth pulled. She was resembling a shark for a while, with a second row for teeth, "her three front teeth" - can you imagine?!.

:there were 52 people in church on Sunday! Passing out the last songbook from the shelf and making room for more coats were encouraging signs of sacred activity. I don't know how many of these people are going to stay with the congregation but they have included worship with us within their spiritual journey. Sure, many were there because of their annual Christmas service with mom and for a chance at a present or two and a light meal, but their presence was welcome regardless of the personal agenda. A son home from a successful boot camp requested the prayer of safety, and his mother found within that simple request the answer to her decade-long prayer for his quest for God. It was a gift from God, given without wrapping and bows.

:there is no manual to help advise or guide a child through the journey of parental divorce and dating. Even though I am 40, my mother having a boyfriend, now fiance, has stirred up unexpected feelings which aren't really anger, and aren't truly hurt, and aren't fully rational. They are just weird, plain and simple. Hearing her conversations with these new people, these new "family?" have a skewed perspective I do not appreciate or understand. My children are aware of the differences of her "stories" and are curious what they are supposed to do. So am I.

:it was 3:45 a.m. when TANK was stirring on Christmas morning...3:45 a.m.

:N. and A. both need braces and had an orthodontic visit which begins the process for the 2 of them. We have a small portfolio with some amazing pictures and structural placement of their teeth - truly cool stuff - but my mind is spinning at the thought of impending orthodontia. Their appointment was scheduled right before A. piano lesson and she just cried her whole way through her 1/2 hour with her teacher. She was so upset thinking she had done something wrong to make her mouth need braces...my poor little sweetie.

:I do not respond to bellowing or finger snapping when someone is trying to get my attention. If I'm in another room, please wait till I return or come find me. Standing still and bellowing will be a lonely, public yelling experience for you if you want to capture my attention...I will not come for a bellowing yell. I will never do it to someone else and I will never promote it as acceptable communication towards people I respect. I don't even do it to pets, intending to capture their attention by speaking their name. A pet deserves the dignity and grace of someone using their name, and so does a person. And so do I. Forgot my name, I accept "dear" "love" "honey" or "Captain" but never "hey you." So as one of my volunteers who was counting kettle money, like he had everyday for the entire Christmas season was snapping his insistent fingers, my natural reaction was saying in my mind, "I know he isn't talking to me. He must be talking to someone else." His actions then began including a "hey" and "hey you" and then a bellowing "hey you there" with that snapping, agitated movement when I was still completing the 10,000 things I had to do that morning and had to leave the room. I came back about 2 minutes later, still unaware he had been trying to tell me something until I saw his beet red face. "Hey you" he snapped and bellowed again, and to his frustration, someone else exclaimed, "Oh were you talking to Jessie?" "I didn't know all that was for me, " I exclaimed. "I don't respond to snapping and bellowing, never have, never will. But I'll get what you need..." and I swear, the women in the room sat up a little straighter, a little prouder and little more dignified. They have obviously been the recipient of the snapping "hey you", and it is so avoidable. I must insist that the communication around our tables must have layers of grace and dignity intertwined through the words and intentions.

And that is all I have to say about that.

Bells ringing

2007-12-22T11:22:00.001-05:00

Merry Christmas

On my knees, outside in the driveway balancing a flashlight between my shoulder and my chin, I can see the culprit that has been my nemesis for weeks. Poised just beyond reach, I can see the gleam of its reflection as it coyly enjoys its placement directly under the back bench seat of the minivan. The construction of the van seats has permitted incredible amounts of knee room for child and adult who occupy the back seat, but there is no room underneath the seat to reach in and grasp anything.

And in this absolutely unreachable spot, so close and yet so far, too small to permit my hand, too cramped to navigate my arm, too tight to manipulate my wrist, there shines the lone jingle bell.

It fell off its band of leather back in November as I travelled a Christmas kettle bell ringer from his daily location to his home. As I navigated the town, he gave the needed directions and we helped him out of the van carefully for it was quite icy and his street has a pronounced incline. In the few minutes this all took, this loose jingle bell rolled to the back of the van, drooped into the well which holds the seat and has remained there all Christmas season.

Every left turn has been punctuated by its definite jingle. Every parking lot speed bump is another chance to be reminded this bell remains in the van. Each pothole rings true and clear. I feel like Santa’s sleigh all over town, every day. My 1 ½ hour drive to my seminary classes had normally been a very intentional thinking time, with no radio or book on tape as distraction…but with this jingle bell just beyond reach, my ride resembles a Christmas toy delivery extravaganza. Travelling to brass band rehearsal each week in the neighboring county has become a jangling, jingling headache. Santa only needs to listen to those sleigh bells one night – this has been a 6 weeks prison.

I hate that bell.

I must make the effort to get it; it won’t go away on its own. I have to make the time – it won’t take much, I just have to do it. I need to empty the trunk, remove the seat, get some tweezers and climb into the trunk and stretch. It might help to have a magnet stick, we’ll see. Even though there are so many obligations and responsibilities interlaced within ministry and family life this Christmas season, I find this task is becoming more imperative – I gotta stop this bell from ringing! I have been repeating Rose Hartwick Thorpe’s poem, “Curfew Must Not Ring Tonight”, whispering it under my breath with new emphasis and connection – I feel compelled, like the poem’s heroine Bessie, to get to that bell, to keep it from ringing before I absolutely lose my composure.

Curfew Must Not Ring Tonight. http://womenshistory.about.com/library/etext/poem1/blp_thorpe_curfew.htm These are stanzas of a love story with compelling sacrifice, dramatic, essential action and persuasive personal investment. If the bell rings, her lover will be executed for whatever crime he has been accused. The only authority who can grant pardon will not arrive until after the curfew bell rings. So the reader finds Bessie poised within a decision…

She has reached the topmost ladder, o'er her hangs the great dark bell;
Awful is the gloom beneath her, like the pathway down to hell.
See! the ponderous tongue is swinging; 'tis the hour of curfew now,
And the sight has chilled her bosom, stopped her breath, and paled her brow.
Shall she let it ring? No, never! Her eyes flash with sudden light,
As she springs, and grasps it firmly: "Curfew shall not ring to-night!"

Out she swung,-- far out. The city Seemed a speck of light below,--
There twixt heaven and earth suspended, As the bell swung to and fro.
And the sexton at the bell-rope, old and deaf, heard not the bell,
Sadly thought that twilight curfew rang young Basil's funeral knell.
Still the maiden, clinging firmly, quivering lip and fair face white,
Stilled her frightened heart's wild throbbing: "Curfew shall not ring tonight!"

O'er the distant hills comes Cromwell. Bessie sees him; and her brow,
Lately white with sickening horror, has no anxious traces now.
At his feet she tells her story, shows her hands, all bruised and torn;
And her sweet young face, still hagggard, with the anguish it had worn,
Touched his heart with sudden pity, lit his eyes with misty light.
"Go! your lover lives," said Cromwell. "Curfew shall not ring to-night!"

In the face of decision, compelling love underscored the need for sacrifice. She covers the clapper of the bell with her own body, feeling the crushing blows as the bell is attempted to be rung. Because of the depth of her love, she experienced pain. The guilt of the one accused is never in question.

Compelling love underscores the need for sacrifice. Christ’s love for us can be expressed within those same parameters. In the face of mankind’s eternal separation from God because of sin, Christ stepped out – far out – into this world, born as a child whose birth emphasized with divine punctuation, “Emannuel God with us!” God’s immeasurable love through Christ did not dispute the guilt of mankind. God’s indescribable love through Christ faced sacrifice. It was not a sacrifice observed from a distance, but up close, involved and personal.

Between earth and heaven suspended, God’s compelling love is expressed through the birth of Christ Jesus our LORD. God reached out – far out – to express His compelling love. Our deepest evidence of God’s love for us is found within Christ’s birth, Emmanuel – God is with us!!

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:38-39, NIV.

“All this is from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to Him in Christ, not counting men’s sins against them. And He has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making His appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: be reconciled to God. God made Christ who had no sin to take on sin for us, so that in Christ we might become the righteousness of God.” 2 Corinthians 5:18-21

One Cup at a Time

2007-12-14T08:52:00.000-05:00

Merry Christmas

I am humbled and inspired by God's activity within our appointment. His touch of restoration and transition have been slow but specific. There were 39 people in church on Sunday - quite a few who have returned after their first visit with someone else with them. What a difference from 5, what a huge difference. A niece, a fiance, a brother, an aunt. We even need to have a regular plan for Junior church for the little babies and toddlers. These past 6 months have included a varied layer of communication with so many community people, especially with those who have intentionally separated themselves from the corps in the past recent years.

One letter after another were delivered from our office, and in God's amazing way, many people have responded to "share a cup of coffee." Not as a group or as an execution line-up, but one at a time. Whew, because the strong things they needed to share wouldn't have worked in a group dialog very well. A cup of coffee is not a threat or a danger, yet it has opened up so many conversations, hard as they may be, and encouraged the beginning phases of dialog.

I'm glad I'm a decaf drinker, or I'd be a nerve jangling mess from the amount of coffee I have consumed over these talks. I don't need the caffeine, but I sure do love that aroma, that exquisite taste - the whole experience.

Being within the realm of transition (which is distinctly different from change) has not been easy or encouraging. This community doesn't trust the Army officer, and have held onto all the reasons in detail as to why, and show you by the fistful all of those reasons. They have names, dates, events, circumstances, wrong deeds - and they are legitimate and authentic I can't say they didn't happen or that the perspective was skewed.

Their rough and rude, cold and distant treatment of me and my husband have nothing to do with what we have done, and we have been instructed by too many to count, "Its not you, it's not personal..." as they continue with their words.

I have to disagree. If transition starts anywhere, it has to be personal.

It doesn't have to be slow, but frequently it is. Yet on Monday, I am heading out to deliver League of Mercy Christmas gifts to our community nursing homes, and there are signs that restoration is moving to a deeper level. Three people who are going with me are new to the corps and three are because of God's work through patient restoration. I don't need a present under my tree from my congregation to feel appreciated or loved - my heart is humbled and moved by God's activity through transformation and encouragement.

And it has happened, very personally, one cup at a time.

No Doubt About It

2007-11-25T05:14:00.000-05:00

:Tea with honey and lemon - early grey, english breakfast, peppermint and ginger - 8 pots

:Sicilian lemonade - 48 ounces

:Chicken noodle soup- 96 ounce

:Tomato soup with goldfish crackers - (they really make all the difference) 36 ounces

:Sugarfree Jello water (lemon, orange, cherry, raspberry) Didn't keep track of those ounces

:Halls Honey and lemon menthol- 100 lozenges

:Advil Dose after dose, waiting for the next one

The dreaded three word sentence, more a resignation than a pronouncement, as I turned the corner as I sneezed and then had to say "God bless me" because no one really knew how I felt:

"Mom is sick."

There is no down time, and it is simply a cold, but it brought the achy feeling and slight fever that is enough to sap your strength. I am the speaker in the pulpit tomorrow morning and my head is resonating with congestion and my throat is husky and provocative sounding. So the best I can gather is I will sound like a cross between Elmer Fudd and Lauren Bacall. Pass the tissues, if you don't mind.

Thank you so much, you are very kind. God bless you!

Anyway

2007-11-15T21:04:00.000-05:00

The words of the blessed Mother Teresa reach through the pages and bring me inspiration, motivation and fresh strength today. Her words are printed onto my "Wall of Calm" in my office, right next to my computer.

"People are unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.
If you do good, people may accuse you of selfish motives.
Do good anyway.
If you are successful, you may win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.
Honesty and transparency make you vulnerable.
Be honest and transparent anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.
People who really want help may attack you if you help them.
Help them anyway.
Give the world the best you have and you may get hurt.
Give the world your best anyway."
~Mother Theresa

"So let us not let ourselves get fatigued doing good. At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don't give up, or quit. Right now therefore, everytime we get the chance, let us work for the benefit of all, starting with the people closest to us in the community of faith.

Galatians 6:9-10, The Message

Dearest Lord, encompass me in Your love and plant within me the divine stamina to see others with the eyes of Christ. Your Kingdom come, Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

In the Penalty Box

2007-11-11T21:38:00.000-05:00

Mist slowly rising off the frozen rink -
Charged, chosen warriors meet at center ice.
Eagerly waiting, poised on the brink:
Their race to the puck, their moves are precise.

Slamming! Jamming! Shooshing! Whooshing!
Barreling! Speeding! Whew - a narrow escape.
Zipping! Whipping! Whirling! Blurring!
Thrashing! Crashing! How much more can he take?!.

The whistle’s shrill blast, the official stops play.
For a revenge-full, avenge-full intentional aggression.
10 minutes is determined what the player will pay
For the bone-crushing penalty – a major transgression.

The penalty tender slides open the locks
And swings open the door to the penalty box.
You must wait. You must stay.
For your transgression you will pay.

A heart in deep freeze, chained up link by link
Charged, chosen anger takes center court.
Eagerly waiting , poised on the brink
Each side is defended like a combat fort.

Lying! Defying! Stealing! Concealing!
Breaking! Forsaking! No love to be found.
Self-protecting! Self-reflecting! Ripping! Whipping!
Never forgiving – frozen, empty and bound.

The spiritual conviction – sin filled heart, sin filled life.
This revenge-full, avenge-full intentional aggression.
Eternity is weighed on the edge of a knife:
There is nothing enough to pay for this compelling transgression.

The penalty tender has the nameplate engraved
For the heart lost in sin, with no hope to be saved.
But Jesus has frozen the punishment clock
Jesus takes our place in the penalty box!

Not for sin He committed
But through grace He is permitted
To pay the price for the debt.
Before we knew Him, He took our place -
Jesus’ love for the human race
Is a gift that is complete and set.

Faith in Christ Jesus brings an assurance we can know:
Faith in Christ Jesus takes the sin-debt away.
Christ Jesus paid the debt He did no owe
To pay for the debt we could not pay.

He took our place
Because of divine love and grace,
In the Penalty Box.

jsi

“No member of the human race except Christ ever gave to God, by dying, anything which that person was not at some time going to lose as a matter of necessity. Nor did anyone ever pay a debt to God which he did not owe. But Christ of his own accord gave to his Father what he was never going to lose as a matter of necessity, and he paid, on behalf of sinners, a debt which he did not owe.

It is in dying Christ gives something that he does not owe. The death of Christ offers something of infinite value and something that is not owed. In so doing, Christ gives God what is necessary to pay for all human sin past and future. Christ, the God-Man, made an infinite payment, that He did not owe, to God for the sins of humankind.”
Anselm, Cur Deus Homo?

But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 8:5

2007-10-30T14:11:00.000-04:00

As I unpacked my bag yesterday, I had to be near an electrical outlet, and not just the one which has two outlets open. Good grief, I needed the outlet that had the power cord multi-charger available. I'm going to take up most of the strip. Three years ago, I didn't even use a cell phone let alone own one, but those days seem a distant memory now. My cell phone needed charged desperately, its down to 1/2 bar; my palm pilot needed charged, as it was listed at 13% power. My laptop computer had just signaled me to immediately plug into an outlet as it had reached 8%...good grief I thought I turned it off before I zipped up that bag. I grab Dave's phone to make sure he gets charged up and plug in my camera so its internal battery will be full capacity tomorrow. Added to that is the rechargeable battery charger which prepares 6 AA for use and this power strip is maxxed out.

If I had an ipod, I think I could cause an electrical short in the house! Dave needed to find a different place to charge his laptop but that was primarily that he had some things to type and email...not the fault of the outlet or "charging station" as I have affectionately named it. He wants to videotape something tomorrow so the video camera is getting its battery juice capacity. Its rather embarrassing how many technological elements I am now carrying, working with and depending upon. Forget one power chord and I'm up a creek without a paddle. (And I wish that could only be a hypothetical description - missing one little piece of connection has wreaked havoc. Augh!)

My personal batteries have needed recharged and these past few days really brought the extra energy I have needed.

:accomplished tasks. Our Christmas sign-up week was met with advance thought, preparation, extra staples, extra helping hands and more chairs for an extended waiting room in the hallway. I had to miss three days of this years sign-ups (out of town, mandatory Annual Divisional Leadership Conference a.k.a. Officer Retreat), for the agency negotiations in our community who were doing their Christmas sign-ups were already selected for us, before we got here. Not everything went completely smooth or without glitches, but it was a good beginning to an involved and engaged season of generosity and need, ministry and joy. We will continue to take applications up through 12/12...(shhhhhh, be verwy, vewry quiet, lest those calendar avoiders overhear. When they try to lie and say they didn't know when Christmas was, I almost want to leave the room. Instead I pour a cup of coffee and let them know I know their lie is just a poor sounding explanation that bad things happen outside of their own control. Didn't know when Christmas was...hmmmm) And after 12/12 will be a waiting list, I actually take applications up until the day before distribution; it dawns on me know that my staff doesn't exactly know that yet. Monday will be a new day!

:sitting next to my sweetheart. So many times by the end of my week, I feel like Dave and I see each other coming and going more than right next to each other. Sometimes its the kid's schedule, sometimes its mine or his or the community, sometimes its the excessive flexibility ministry requires. But...some days it feels like Dave and I are like Clark Kent/Superman - never really in the same place, but everyone understands the other is somewhere nearby or will return soon. Our Officer Councils/Leadership Retreat gave us a chance to sit together, eat together, talk with friends, pray and worship together, ride in the truck next to each other, see a movie (oh, my ears are still blistered...why did I let them pressure me into Gone Baby Gone...never again) go to a restaurant. We shared more time together in those 2 1/2 days than we have in a month. There is a definite smile in my heart and on my face.

:Teaching from Esther. Bob Hostetler spoke and taught throughout the planned sessions primarily through Esther and his emphasis upon leading in the face of crisis, decisions within the face of fear, stability within the sea of uncertainty - he brought a good word from the Good Word. And he finalized his points with the illumination - we have been given the authority to do something about the wrongness/poverty/sin/brokenness we encounter. Bob is an inspiration and a motivation within the realm of God's ministry.

:watching an infant mold to mom's embrace. It is so inspiring to watch a young hearts simply shine with the inescapable wave of falling in love with the new baby in their life. What a privilege you shared with us all, to simply be able to watch this little life wrap himself through your hearts.

:throwing the letter away. I hate being away from my kids, even though I know a break is beneficial for all of us. With an aunt who was able to give her time for the evenings and mornings, dinner and bedtime, breakfast and bus times, everything had the possibility of running smoothly. But I still had to write the letter, the dreaded letter. I hate it when I have to write it, and I'm never in a good mood after I've done it. You know the letter...the one with each child's birthdate and social security number, accompanied by the insurance card. A list of your cell phone numbers, and the mileage from where we will be traveling. And the birthdate and full name and social security number of the person in whom the insurance is under. With directions how to get to the hospital. And legal guardianship authority to begin filling out any paperwork so that there would not need to be a delay in medical treatment. Once again, the preparation and writing of this letter was not needed and I could just sweep it into the trashcan, unapologetically, unsentimental. Good riddance.

:a book finished. Not for study or for assignment, but just for the sheer pleasure of reading. I have been reading about 300 pages a week, mostly for Master's classes. But yesterday I finished Jane Eyre (3rd time with the gem, and still things to learn and gain) and felt like I completed something very stabilizing.

:a trip to the library. Every one got three books and this afternoon was rainy outside so we sat and lounged and read.

:affirmation. It is so amazingly empowering to hear a trusted confidante say the words, "You are right, this is not your imagination, you are not wrong..."

:gingerbread house competition. A. and I will put in our application for the community Gingerbread house competition, and we searched this afternoon for the perfect recipe.

:hearing the piano from around the corner. I am happy to do the dishes as my daughter is playing her recital piece. It keeps a song in my heart, and I don't care if I have dish-panned hands to show for it.

My batteries, my private inner batteries are recharged and replenished tonight. God's blessing is deep and wide.

2007-10-23T12:05:00.000-04:00

The temperatures are colder and the foliage in our yard begins to glimmer through its new wardrobe in jewel tones of crimson, gold, amber and flaming orange. They have caught my attention throughout the day: in the early morning as we left the house and again late during sunset as we returned at the end of a full day. There are different trees in our yard, each turning according to their seasonal pattern, some holding tightly to their still-green leaves as others have already released their temporary treasures. Strangely, there are two trees, both trunks shooting out from the same place in the ground and they have the exact same conditions to grow from. They are exactly the same type of tree. They were planted in the same year, so they are exactly the same age. They get exactly the same amount of sun, rain and soil nutrients. And yet, even with their identical conditions, one has remained green with leaves and the other has turned golden and dropped every leaf.

October's poplars are flaming torches
lighting the way to winter.
- Nova Bair
href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_tpO03yyWojs/Rx4d6Fq1NJI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/wUlP9Nawp94/s1600-h/lunar+mares+b.jpg">

This October night has a sky that is spotless clear and the autumn air has a chill in the evening, persuading the bare shoulder to reach for the nearest sweater or jacket. The movement of the seasons steps gingerly through these harvest weeks, ensuring the calendar journey is one step farther from summer and one step closer to winter. I stand in my backyard, entranced by the size of the moon – it is enormous! It seems as if it fills the entire sky, spilling out its moonglow brightly. It is not quite a full moon, that won’t happen until October 26.

The oceans on the moon are so visible tonight, these mares so romantically and beautifully named by Galileo: the Sea of Serenity, the Sea of Clouds, the Sea of Rains, the Sea of Ingenuity, the Sea of Fertility, the Sea of Cold. Directly across from each other one can observe the Sea of Tranquility directly across from the Sea of Crises. These lunar regions have encountered nearly identical exposure to the meteors which have pummeled the moon’s surface. Because of the orbit and axis the moon travels upon and within, these regions are exposed to the sun in the identical time period. Galileo links these two moon oceans together, Tranquility and Crises.

Tranquility and Crises.

I cannot overlook the poignancy of the elements I see before me. God weaves tranquility into our lives, tranquility in the face of crises. Some circumstances can bring out strength from us (green leaves on the branches) and others can make us almost unwind (golden leaves in a pile at the foot of a tree), even though we haven’t left our faith. When we turn to God and rely upon Him as our Rock, our Guide, our Shield, our Strength, He brings a calmness of heart and mind in the throes of a violent storm.

We can see within the heart of the crises that there is a divine heart of Tranquility which is unmoved, unscathed, undisturbed, unintimidated. God is faithful, endlessly faithful to us, providing serenity in the midst of crises. These two experiences are linked together, peace and panic, and are held within the hand of the Master Creator of our lives.

One thing I ask of the LORD, that I will seek after; to live in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in His temple. For He will hide me in His shelter in the day of trouble; He will conceal me under the cover of His tent. He will set me high on a rock. Psalm 27:4-5

Bidden or Unbidden

2007-10-16T15:08:00.000-04:00

Looking within the pages of notes, study material and unpublished lectures of the medieval scholar Erasmus, a phrase rings out plainly into the cacophony of today’s pounding life with its unrelenting pace and unyielding schedule of obligations:

“Vocatus atque non vocatus, Deus ad erit.” Latin
“Bidden or unbidden, God is present.” English

Psychologist and theologian Carl Jung was captured by this phrase and the depth of its meaning for the world. God is always there, whether we asked for Him or not. Jung had this Latin phrase carved and bronzed and hung it over his home entrance, a physical reminder of God’s tangible availability. This plaque served as a lifetime memorial about his conviction, his heartfelt passion that there is nowhere a person can run that is away from God. It is also present on his tombstone as an epitaph.

“Invitado o no invitado, Dios está presénté.” Spanish
"Chiamati o inopportune, Dio e presente." Italian

We may sometimes forget that we don’t have to invite God into our lives…He is already present, in the midst of happiness and joy, trouble and strife, grief or blessing, life or death. There is no obstacle to high or deep that keeps God away from the problems we encounter.

“Appelés ou injustifiées, Dieu est present French
"Genannt oder unangebracht, Gott ist." German

Whether we call upon God, cry out to Him in help or in praise, God is working in us and through us an all around us. God’s divine activity is traceable, His hand within our lives, plans, footsteps.

When welcoming a brand new child, God is there.
When facing the grief of losing a child, God is there.
When experiencing personal fulfillment, God is there.
When experiencing the blackness of depression, God is there.

The question has never been “Where is God in all of this?” But instead the question remains, “Are we paying attention to what God is doing?”

Bidden or unbidden - God is present. Vocatus atque non vocatus, Dues ad erit.

When a hungry stranger receives food, God is there.
When a lonely widow is welcomed into the city, God is there.
When people work for peace and struggle for justice, God is there.
When we witness courage and bravery, God is there.

When someone is rescued from a flooded street, or when a bomb in the heart of the city is defused and made safe, God is there.

When a child is carefully instructed and taught, God is there. When anger is irrational and bullets are flying and strength and bravery offer protection, God is there. And though it may be hard for us to accept, even when people are trapped and terrified in an airport, God is there too.

Reach up and reach out and claim the presence of God, who is right there with you, every step of what you are doing. Extending our hands out to man require that we must, absolutely must keep our hearts extended to God.

Bidden or unbidden – God is present.

“Great are the works of the LORD, they are pondered by all who delight in them. Glorious and majestic are His deeds, and His righteousness endures forever. He has caused His wonders to be remembered; the LORD is gracious and compassionate.” Psalm 111:2-4

Laugh 'Till I'd Cry

2007-10-05T16:48:00.000-04:00

http://www.kingsfeatures.com/features/comics/fwinker

http://www.fbofw.com/timetravel

"A good cartoonist is one who can make people laugh. A great cartoonist is one who can make people laugh in the midst of fear, sadness, and uncertainty."

— Regina Brett, breast cancer survivor
and president of the National Society of Newspaper Columnists

Without apologies, I will confess my daily scan of the paper always includes a quick skim of the front page for headlines, a little check to the obits, a look inside the sports section for box scores of my favorite teams (Go Red Sox – great game! Go Indians-annihilate the Yankees!) It takes all of 4 minutes, to see what is there, what will require my attention later, and then what I love – the comics. I love reading the comics, and like anyone have my favs. I usually use the Sunday funnies, since they are in color, as birthday giftwrap. So many different ones have come and gone, yet I am still a devoted Prince Valient reader every Sunday. I miss my Far Side fix - it isn’t printed anymore. I used to decorate my covered textbooks in high school with different Far Side scenes – there was always so much in them. And Calvin and Hobbes, they could make me bah-hah outloud, hilarious in the investigation of a sarcastic little boy handling subjetcs like atheism, creation, life as we know it and the depth of friendship as life's deepest treasure. The Wizard of Id and Family Circus, Blondie’s curvy girl figures and Beetle Bailey’s antagonistic Sarge, Cathy’s power struggles with her mother, Ziggy and Charlie Brown – they are all small windows of wisdom, silliness, poignant frames of philosophy and thought-filled introspection.

Some have had a different importance at different times in my life than others, like identifying with a sleep-deprived again-pregnant mother in Baby Blues who is desparately seeking a bathroom with her baby and toddler in tow, and a sales clerk generously offers the staff bathroom “because its important to help a little one get to a potty”…but it the Mommy who’s bladder was ready to explode! How true, how true – I knew every bathroom in town when pregnant with K, and the other three helped me get extra understanding for the “little ones” as trying so hard to change that diaper as fast as I could so I could use the potty myself. Crankshaft shows a cantankerous side of aging, with humor, understanding and defense for some of the details that younger people often don’t see. Garfield and Jon never seem to ever get past the same power struggles, but they are always cute.

Do you have any favorite comics, the ones you are always looking for first?

In the 1970s there were two strips that started out new, and as a very young reader they caught me in their stories right away with the fact that they passed in what you were able to gauge as “real time”. Unlike the perpetually young Charles Schultz characters or Family Circle toddler family, Funky Winkerbean (1972) and For Better or For Worse (1978), these characters went to the next grade in school, celebrated a next birthday. The kids grew up, got jobs, got married; people took promotions, moved away, came back. I really liked how life marched on in the comic strips, young girls became young women, boys developed into men, moms and dads struggled with holding on and letting go. They became a set of 2 dimensional friends who sometimes expressed exactly how I felt about war or children or balancing justice with mercy, the impact of forgiveness and the complete need for love. For Better or For Worse has addressed within the multi-generational Patterson family the necessity for courage – for the things you want (a true love) and for the things you fear (retirement) all the while mixing in the beauty of watching mom brush her hair in the wind or the perils of living with a large dog. But those subjects were not the only ones – Funky Winderbean may have brought us all Harry L. Dinkle, The World’s Greatest Band Leader of Westview High, but he also brought out the subjects of teen pregnancy, gang peer pressure, dyslexia, teen dating abuse, and breast cancer.

This morning, both strips are facing new ground. For Better or For Worse has included the additional stroke of Elly’s elderly father. Simultaneously the characters find themselves hoping for returned health and facing the reality of impending death. Lisa Moore, in Funky Winkerbean, died within her many-years struggle with cancer. Lisa as a cartoon character was diagnosed with cancer the first time at the same time my best friend was diagnosed with lung cancer – and Tom Batiuk’s insight was profound during that very angst-filled time. His poignancy brought profound understanding within a subject that frequently wasn’t discussed. I miss my friend who lost her battle with cancer in mid 2005. My tears have been present every morning for months as Tom Batiuk, cartoonist and cancer survivor, has shown within the framework of "Lisa's story".

The return of Lisa's aggressive breast cancer after a long remission. Chemotherapy. Surgery. The dark thoughts a person has when facing the death of someone they love. Not a depressing story, but one which includes depression of the caregiver. The cartoonist does not abrasively gloss over important issues, but carefully shines a light on important concepts: although Lisa was the one who was dying, it was her husband who was sick. He was in need of help, attention, someone to remove the alcohol from his hands, to talk straight to his heart in his hurt.

Though painful in their subject content, their stories are hopeful, showing how loving couples treat each other under all circumstances. So this morning with my coffee, my tears are there, recognizing the hurt that envelopes a family in the face of cancer, and knowing the future posssibilities these hand drawn friends may face within their next storyboards in the future.

Goodbye Lisa and thank you. You've made me laugh until I'd cry.

Small Surprises, Giant Blessings

2007-10-01T00:06:00.000-04:00

These past three weeks have included so much, packed in tight and full, like fragrant sausages ready to burst out of their skin. It hasn't been a schedule that is out of hand or excessive mileage or meetings. Time management, communication, understanding and flexibility have attended to everything that has come along. Some days got a little hairy, and I love being able to rely upon my terrific husband when it all needed tamed. Whether it was a doctor's visit 4 counties away or a forgotten library book, a missing trumpet mouthpiece or "the exactly right sweater I wanted to wear with this outfit", an important Advisory Board meeting or community event, there was place and time for everything and things are running smoothly.

In reflection, this fullness comes from the small surprises, giant blessings and the gentle communion with the Spirit that has been present:

: a birthday party for my youngest son, N. - he's 9, my little man, and this was the year for his friend party. We alternate years - family party, friend party, sleep over, movie party - to rotate celebration styles and enjoy each other as best we can. (And face it, to equalize and regulate the amount of money that goes into it! Birthdays can get so expensive so quick! And in our household we have 2 birthdays in 8 days time. That is usually only one pay check, so there are no gala blow-outs, skating rink renting, catering-out-the-wazoo celebrations. Hey, time stands still for your birthday, you get to eat breakfast from the birthday bowl, have your favorite dinner with soda to drink, your choice of cake and fun and games at home - where birthdays are the most creative and involved, and affordable.) I do love celebrating birthdays, and enjoy making a cake (N. wanted racecars, and if I have to say so, mine turned out tasty, delicious and looked lightning fast!) Last September, when we lived in a different appointment (which we had been in for 2 years - plenty of friend making possibilities) N.'s party was family - and we didn't dream there would be any moving on the horizon. Yet as the horizon got closer, the moving reality was present and affected many things. N.s friend party now brought a level of mommy horror - do I warp our family celebration expectations and traditions and underline and accentuate a feeling that has been floating under the surface for all of my children? Do we not have a friend party because we just don't have many friends in this area? Do we travel 2 1/2 hours north to a city we don't live in anymore to host a party with his old friends, his best lifetime friends? So...the answer is...no...we invite the entire class at school! (Let me say, the feeling of "What have I done" was coming in waves after he left on the bus for school...what have I done?!. Is there a way I can take it back - univite 28 kids...oh good grief.) Neighborhood, corps and classroom added up to over 40 invitations...what if they all came? I wasn't breaking a sweat, I won't brag or gloat : I feel confident about engaging with and entertaining large groups of kids, so we were set for every single one to come. Birthday arrives with balloons and preparations, and there were 18 kids who came. I admit it willingly...it was on my prayer list for more than 10 days...and I don't feel shallow or trivial..."Lord, please let there be more that 10 kids who can come to N. party. PPLLEEAASSEE!" After the whole day was over and we were cleaning up from limbo, musical chairs, pinata, etc. the tears of relief were so close to the surface, I couldn't ignore the feeling of the heartfelt burden lifted, "Thank you Lord, for new friends for N....thank you...thank you...thank you!"

: I play orchestral french horn and try to play in as many orchestras as I can. I do not have the availability or opportunity to keep a full time gig and play the 75 concerts and rehearsals which an orchestra can prepare, I cannot be a fulltime musician. But I have found a very fulfilling playing opportunity subbing for different orchestras. You know, filling in for someone who is unable to be at that rehearsal or performance. Yet to do that, to get on that list of callers, you must audition, give a hearing, and have the appointed orchestral excerpts prepared and ready to display to perfection. September brought one of these auditions and I practiced for it for 6 weeks. So in the midst of different meetings, responsibilities, dinner and programs, a prevalent ribbon of horn 2 and horn 3 parts of Mozart, Mahler, Dvorak and Shoshtakovich was winding through my days. My office manager learned many of the excerpts and could tell the difference between Beethoven and Strauss...so I consider a huge accomplishment has happened - the music teacher in me is satisfied!. So audition day comes, and I play with about 40 other horns for horn 2 and horn 3, and I played well. I was stinking nervous!!!! I didn't get horn 2 or horn 3 - and I didn't want them. The rigorous preparation process helped underscore for me that I am not made of the cut-throat essence that an orchestral musician requires. I am so opposite on the spectrum - I want everyone to feel as encouraged and confident as possible. Some of that is the mommy in me, but most of it is just the rose-colored glasses wearing, spunky, cheerleader that sees the best in everything and everyone. I invited three other horn players to the audition, for their chance to win the position. I spent the afternoon talking with other horn players, not avoiding all contact with whoever might be positioned as "my competition". I played well, they listened to all my excerpts without calling out for the next horn player to come in (truly my deepest fear). Yet in the middle of the morning - horn 2 auditions- my oldest son T. had an insulin emergency at grandma's. Needing to slip out and rush back, I know that God is using me, exactly where I am with every talent and capability He has entrusted me.

: every single book for each of my M.Div classes this semester were available from the library and I can check them out for 25 weeks. I don't have to buy a single text! I am over 1/2 done with this degree, and having a textbook free September really made back to school, outgrowing hockey skates, 2 birthdays not such a dramatic hit to the wallet.

: Since I work with my husband, I can shut the door and get a kiss anytime I want.

: being a witness to a transformation of heart, body, soul and mind. Few things are as inspiring to me as the transformational process in a person.

:reaching a real person on the other end of the phone, not needing to leave a message.

: my mother's surgery has relieved the pain she has had for months, and her recuperation time is showing healing and strength. What did I make for her - soup and tea. Doctor's should prescribe it!

: sharing coffee with another officer, in the middle of a challenging day for the both of you. (Thanks for lunch Sue, I'll bring you coffee - cream and sugar- anytime!

: there were 25 people in church for worship in Holiness meeting, and 17 in Sunday School. Please don't read those numbers as being tiny, there were 3 people in church in July. Having 25 in church for you may seem like everyone is on vacation, sick or causing a riot, but 25 for us brings an extra wind of spiritual encouragement and validity within God's work. God's touch has brought out a caring spirit to this congregation, responding positively to encouragement and fellowship. I don't typically talk about corps details, the rebuilding process of a congregation following scandal can be painful, lonely and not terribly encouraging for the pastor and leadership involved. Two appointments in a row facing the repercussions of scandal is enough to drain the spirit. As I stepped into the pulpit this morning, there was someone sitting in every pew, children through seniors through elders, spread out but 25 hearts joining us in worshipping the amazing God who created us and keeps us.

"Little is much when God is in it,

labor not for wealth or fame,

there's a crown and you shall win it

when you go in Jesus's name."

My heart is full from little surprises and giant blessings. God is tremendously good.

Impossible to forget

2007-09-26T21:52:00.001-04:00

Our brains are designed in such an incredible way, the deep grooves throughout our grey matter are filled with memory receptors infiltrated within each crevice. Capturing memories and holding them – making it physically impossible to forget some things. Some brain experts consider that it is possible for a healthy brain to hold onto the earliest memories, from toddler hood, and retain them for a lifetime.

Impossible to forget.

Sometimes I feel like a few of my memory crevices are having a construction traffic jam, selectively remembering important things while not even trying to retain others. Numbers are losing out right now. I find that the busier I am, the more I rely upon the written reminders – the written memory- to stay on top of things, because frequently they are tied to numbers. My mind feels crammed with numbers, and keeping them straight is an organizational task which can be daunting if not attended to daily. This is why my Palm Pilot has been indispensable to me – my external brain!

Impossible to forget.

Everyone forgets things – the music stand that wasn’t easily seen so it was left behind, the meeting that was scheduled via cell phone while driving in congested traffic, the library book that fell behind a table and remained for three months collecting fines daily but “outta sight, outta mind”. A prescription pick up, a doctor’s appointment, a colleague’s name – forgetting has happened to us all. And for most things, it’s been easily attended with apology or compensation or accepting the consequences and provide the assurance that it won’t happen again.

Impossible to forget.

And yet, some circumstances are so charged with emotion and importance that they will never leave our minds, never be forgotten or eliminated in the daily routine of grocery lists and informal meetings and birthday parties and phone numbers. Branded upon our minds, with its grey matter memory receptors, they are always there. It’s a blessing (a special friendship and shared interest, a covenant relationship, a first kiss, an inspiration, a fantastic poem, a special lesson of life, the birth of a child) and it can be a curse (words that can never be taken back, the loss of a child, mistakes that are unalterable, the suicide of a loved one, a raised hand in anger, a traffic accident with a tragic ending, gunfire).

The life of Joseph recorded in Genesis exposes a man who encountered love and jealousy, success and tragedy, acceptance and rejection, integrity and deception throughout his lifetime. Abandoned by his brothers. Thought to be dead by his parents. Abused as a slave. Imprisoned unjustly. Forgotten within the halls of justice. Threatened with death threats. As a man of faith he found himself alone, relying upon himself and God to make it through one demanding obstacle after another.

It could seem understandable to get embittered with life, to learn the lessons that were thrown at him and decide to never trust again, never love again, to never forget, never reach out again – a natural reaction of protection, self-preservation. But within the Scriptures we see this incredible window exposing Joseph’s relationship with God and how he recognized God’s activity and presence.

Genesis 41:50-52, “Before the years of famine came, two sons were born to Joseph by Asenath daughter of Potiphera, priest of On. Joseph named his first born Manasseh (forget) and said, ‘It is because God has made me forget all my trouble and my father’s household.’ The second son was name Ephraim (double prosperity) and said, ‘It is because God has made me fruitful in the land of my suffering.”

The root of the verb translated here, to forget, is not based on elimination as wiping the memory from the mind as a teacher wipes the chalk from a chalkboard. This verb is not about removing the memory. It is not like brain washing or hypnotism. No, it is more aligned with a different aspect of memory. “To remove the pain, the sting, the injury, the hurt” – this is more in line with the verb, this Manasseh. Joseph uses this verb in naming his child…”God has removed the pain of my memory, God has removed the sting from my memories. I still remember but the pain is not oppressive.”

When reflecting on his life, Joseph praises God for removing the injury, pain and sting from the memories he may never be able to forget. Joseph transmits his pain and injury and gives them to God to handle and manage. He recognizes that he would be bitter and unable to forgive without the anointed embalming of God’s touch upon those memories.

Its an important lesson, a crucial lesson for me, that God promises to walk down the corridors of my mind and examine the still life portraits hanging on the wall, examine the details with me and help me give birth to a Manasseh, a living example of His divine ability to remove the injury and sting of the memories which can never be forgotten. We are built to remember, but God remains with us with the deep promise that His divine love can help remove the oppressive impact these memories can carry, these memories that we cannot seem to erase.

You do not need to be imprisoned by your tragic memories, unable to move ahead or reach out because of what you cannot remove from your mind. God is right there with you, holding you close, taking every breath with you. He is there providing you with the strength of heart to know He can help you give birth to a Manasseh, a chance to let His divine love remove the sting of the memories which seem like a prison. Reach out to Him, He’s reaching out to you full of understanding, compassion and strength.

Stepping Into Traffic

2007-09-15T23:41:00.000-04:00

When I was in 6th grade we were given the opportunity to have "real jobs" because of our age and maturity. We were given the chance to be crossing guards at the 8 intersections around the school! Coolness! Arriving at school 30 minutes early, out of class 15 minutes early, we felt like big stuff with our orange belts slashed across the left shoulder and a proud long broomstick handle flag to stop all threatening traffic. We will make sure all traffic stops for us!

So we would all walk to our assigned corner and stand there, waiting for walkers to come and "need our help" to get across the street. We weren't allowed to leave the corner, just wave our long-handled flag out to catch drivers attention so they would stop appropriately. It didn't take long for the coolness factor to wear off - we really weren't doing anything in the matter of safety - we weren't the reason why people would stop. No one would stop for our tiny flag fluttering from the distance of the corner.

No the real power was held by the crossing guards who were adults, at the extra busy corners, who would with all the boldness and strength and confidence in the world would step out into traffic, bringing all moving vehicles to a halt until all the lengthy parade of skipping, bookbag wearing learners would march past them.

Stepping into traffic.

With my morning commute being so brief, a slight 1.5 miles from home to corps, the drive is rarely eventful. I never hear a song all the way through so I don't listen to the radio - I simply observe as much as I can. I rarely even need the gas pedal, letting the engine idle coast me to work. Swerve left, then quickly right, successfully accomplishing the pot-hole slalom which is directly before the only light on the trip. Things are going well - it's going to be a pretty day, a busy day, a blessed day..

But I am abruptly startled into action, needing the brakes when directly before the corps, there is a 14 month old baby in the devil strip, dangling his toes over the curb, sucking his thumb in a "boy am I sleepy" position. He's only wearing a diaper, no socks or shoes and it is only 57 degrees - he's got to be freezing! I am not the only vehicle on the road - this is going to be dangerous in a heartbeat. I coast into my driveway and jump out as smoothly as I can. As I am walking near him, I am searching for his mother - in my lobby (no), in my parking lot (no) in the Rite Aid parking lot (no) in the front, side or back yard (no) on the porch (no). As I step slowly closer, he begins to move sideways and closer to traffic. This is getting bad fast, as drivers are simply shaking their heads as they speed past and neighbors are observing the "a.m. entertainment" not wanting to get involved. There is only one thing to do.

Step into traffic.

Cars stop and wait, as I am able to step close enough to reach him, pick him up and step to the pedestrian safety of the sidewalk. Inside I am furiously seething, "I could be a stranger with the worst of intentions and NO ONE is here to stop me from leaving, never seeing this little one ever again." But I am not a stranger to him, and I know which apartment he lives in. As I walk up to his home, his large espresso colored eyes let me know he's barely awake. I don't know how long he's been outside, but he is so cold it takes my breath away.

Stepping into traffic.

This is not a "dump and dash" excursion to this house, I have to be very serious about everything that has happened. And under control. I have to communicate and listen. I may have a professional obligation, I also must have a courageous obligation. I need to be willing to step into the traffic of this situation with boldness and confidence, willing to take the risk.

Risking her fury or criticism, I must wake his mother up. Risking her startled list of excuses, I have to recap the Jim Beam and put it above the refrigerator, box up the cigarettes and put them in the cleaning closet "These are deadly to your 3 babies. Careless sips because they are thirsty or eating just one cigarette - it can kill them!" Risking her anger bounced to her other children, I have to explain where her son was instead of being "watched" by his 3yr old brother. Risking her never accepting our corps invitation to join us for worship or children's programs, I need to express to her that two other agency directors in our town who drove by this circumstance, one of them being connected to Children's Services.

Step into the dangerous traffic that surrounds you, willing to risk your time, your schedule, your plans, your leisure activity. Don't sweep someone's careless threat of suicide away - step into the traffic and invest yourself in the name of Christ Jesus to express hope, and action and concern. Step into the traffic of grief and offer more than a dry handkerchief - embrace and share compassion. Invest yourself with your teenagers, with the message of purity, modesty and language. With the stop sign in your hand and the confidence of God's righteousness, address the gossip and lies that are attempted to be spread in your presence.

In the name of God, make your presence known.

Step into the traffic with a prayer and boldness. God is right there with you.

Isaiah 41:10 "So do not fear, for I AM with you, says the LORD; do not be dismayed, for I AM your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with My righteous right hand." NIV

A Watchful Watchtower

2007-09-11T08:34:00.000-04:00

With my devotions this morning, I find myself with my Bible in the Old Testament laughing out loud at the images in my mind t he Scripture are bringing, as if the Bible is mocking me and who I need to be right now.

Ezekiel and the watchman. A spiritual dedication to sharing and caring the news of God’s love and expectations. As the watchman, I always saw Ezekiel sequestered in a high place, uninterrupted, hearing from God and reading God’s word with relish and time. He had serious alone time with God.

I seriously do not.

I feel as if all parts of life crowd in on my day to take more chunks of my time, my devotional time. I do not have a high and silent place to languish for hours wrapped in the truths and teachings of God. I’ve got young hands cramming notes under my door with scrawled notes and requests, childhood contracts of expectations or expression. It feels like minutes sometimes with God, brief, fleeting. In the same reality, I cannot have a God-honoring day without spending time with Him. Some people you don’t want to meet until they’ve had their coffee…you really don’t want to see me unless I’ve been with Jesus. I am not as loving or understanding of a wife, as flexible and forgiving as a mother, as creative or vision-filled leader without my quiet time. Days that do not start with the careful hemming attention from Jesus always come unraveled in a tirade of frustration, loss of patience or quick discouragement. Sure I can get to end of 24 hours without losing it, but usually it could be a cynical, mouthy, careless conversation girl you meet. Frequently, my time with God has to come in the pre-dawn hours, and even then, it is filled with prayers for these young and growing hearts.

I am seeing myself perched high in this watchtower Like Elijah, yet I am not alone, observing all these loved ones dangling from the lofty support system. I am not in a place in my life that I can abandon them all to care for themselves while I am behind closed doors for the sake of being close to God. Hockey sticks in hand. First aid kit for the most recent boo-boo. Library books to be found. Teenage moodiness. Needing new shoes. Signed permission slips. “Moooooom, he said this…” Questions about God. Golf team matches. Piano lessons. Scholarship paperwork. Homework.

My devotional time can just as easily evolve into sermon preparation, or for research in an exegetical paper. Neither of these are the deep well of connection with God.

My time with God is frequently devotion in action, praying together as a blessing before catching school bus. Asking forgiveness when I am hurtful or wrong. Stopping and watching a rainbow together. Meeting new friends and teachers.

At the beginning of the day I fill a bowl with water and keep it at the sink counter, reminding me of the fullness God has for my day. I don’t empty it until the end of the day, thanking God for his power and presence in everything I needed to do. My daily tasks, home and office, can easily take over and dictate my time. I cannot allow them to. I have to start my day hand in hand with Jesus, living out the hymn, “He walks with me and He talks with me.”

So with this watchtower in mind, I make a quick trip up with a careful eye given all around these dangling loved ones attached to this watchtower with me.

I pray God blesses you today, quietly yet physically answering your prayers, reaffirming your faith, addressing your need and preparing you for the gift He has for you.

The Sound of Your Voice

2007-08-23T08:30:00.001-04:00

The Sound of Your Voice

In the lonely hours of the morning
When each part of this house is asleep,
2 a.m. with lunar light shining –
The man in the moon promises my secret will keep.
I can’t sleep a wink – my thoughts are turning
I can’t read or think – I’m desperately yearning
To know you are here,
Tenderly near…
I long to hear the sound of your voice.

In the busy movements of the afternoon
When each part of this office is busting a move,
2 p.m. with thunderclouds pouring –
The girl in the mirror glances sideways: too true.
She sees right through me – my patience is lacking
She hears and she knows – my cool façade is cracking
I need to see your smile
And just talk with you a while…
I long to hear the sound of your voice.

Where I begin, you complete.
I’ve learned to never compete
With who you are, what you do-
Each day there’s something new
To learn about you
And love about you
But just right now
I long to hear the sound of your voice.

jsi

Let Your Love Show!

2007-08-15T20:46:00.000-04:00

My next four sermons include character illustrations from the juvenile literature shelves of the library. Dr. Seuss may have disguised many of his hard hitting morale messages hidden within the seemingly harmless mode of rhymed verse, but many characters and lessons are not intended exclusively for those listeners under the age of 10. Theodor Seuss Geisel considered the state of childhood to be incredible and a learning opportunity which had no boundaries. Adults who were around children (namely parents and teachers)-who he considered to be "obsolete children"- could be just as dramatically led and affected by his vision and ideas. Several of his themes of creativity, the sanctity of life, the importance of human rights, the utter failure of war, the pervasive state of power struggles within the adult world, man's responsibility to care for the earth are all present within his poetic stanzas.

"I meant what I said, and I said what I meant. An elephant's faithful, one hundred percent."

"Today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one who is youer than you."

"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter won't mind. "

"Don't cry because its over. Smile because it happened."

" Don't give up. I believe in you all. A person's a person no matter how small."

"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not."

"I know up on top you are seeing great sights, but down on the bottom we, too, should have rights!"

"When you think things are bad, when you feel sour and blue, when you start to get mad... You should do what I do. Think about how lucky, how so lucky you are. "

The Seussical musical has a rather inventive way to connect over 15 Dr. Seuss stories together, many by location references, placing many of the characters in Whoville which is being saved by Horton the elephant. Different stories are threaded together through friendships and the one for today was Gertrude McFuzz.

"There once was a girl-bird named Gertrude McFuzz and she had the smallest plain tail ever was.

One droopy droop feather. That's all that she had. And oh, that one feather made Gertrude so sad."

Within the realm of the musical, Gertrude tried desperately to capture Horton the elephant's attention - trying in subtle, careful, protective ways to impress him, such as growing more feathers in her tail. (Her plan backfires horribly as not only does her object of affection remain oblivious to her and her attempts for attention but her tail is outrageously exaggerated and prevents her from being able to fly.) Gertrude does come to the realization that if she is ever going to get her true love across, she must be plain, direct, convincing, obvious -she has to combine her love with undisputable action! She tells her story,

"I sailed on a junk and was practically sunk...for you. I trampled through the trees full of furious bees...for you.

I slogged through a fog and a choking smog, down a soggy slope through a stinking bog

While my slip was gripped by a vicious dog...for you.

I galloped through the snow in 11 below...for you. Yes, even though I knew I was catching the flu...for you.

And then came the hole where I caught my sole, and I rolled downhill out of all control

‘Till I broke my fall on a jagged sole...for you.

All for you, all for you…There’s nothing that I wouldn't and I couldn't and I haven’t gone through…

Now here I am, the worse for wear and here you are, I’m here! You’re there!

And maybe now you’ll know I care for you. And it took me 7 weeks, but I found your clover, too. "

We have to show the Christian love we feel, with its depth and intensity, not being careful and sophisticated to cooly show our concern from a distance. More often than not, we have to throw caution to the wind, and let God's love be shown in a plain, unashamed, uncontainable waves of careful listening which embraces the potential an interruption carries. Don't hide the love that so many people need...don't be careful, cool, calm and collected; sophisticated, unhurt. Let that love show- shining through the actions we had to make to make it plain and obvious. Listen to those complaints - are they expressing a darkness that was never there before? Have they crossed an emotional line, considering an ending to their pain, their life.

Don't discard the complaints, turn off the whining...be a declarer of God's love and take that love and let it show. Take a lesson from Gertrude McFuzz and understand the impact your actions can make for someone, someone who hears that you did it all for them. Can they easily be convinced that there is nothing that you wouldn't and couldn't and haven't gone through to get this spiritual truth of God's love across to them? Reach out and let that love shine bright!

Certainty and uncertainty

2007-07-18T23:51:00.000-04:00

This weekend will have certainty and uncertainty laced together like a well-worn sneaker, tightly drawing all involved into a fit that is snug and just right with a double knot securely made. A. has played softball on the Lady Pirates team since spring and Friday begins the tournament section of their play. She has only needed to miss one practice and one game because of our moving, an amazing set of results in itself. We are certain that Friday night will have a softball, energetic cheering by the team and coaches involved with calming a pitcher and encouraging the batters. We are uncertain as to what kind of game we will face.

I am a baseball girl, through and through, ever since a child. I played with the boys and we played ball in a baseball sort of way – pitching, base running, outfield defense, the whole bag. I didn’t have very many softball friends, and when we did play they would play like baseball. I watch softball on ESPN and been to several games, and it still seems wild to me that two games so closely related to each other can be so amazingly different. Our softball team has won two games in which only four players even hit the ball…all the other scores were made from manufacturing runs from walks to first, and stealing the rest. This is a standard softball occurrence. In the beginning levels of softball, the pitching is erratic, out of control and reliably unreliable. One pitch can be three feet over the batter’s head and the very next pitch (in an over-exaggerated attempt to fix that high target) looks more like a good toss in Bocce than a softball pitch because it’s on the ground. High, low, all over the place, every pitcher nearly gives each batter all 7 pitches allowed before they take a base. My A. has been hit by the pitch more than she has actually hit a pitched ball. Softball is a different game, it can drive you crazy if you’re looking for the same certainty as baseball provides.

With this being double elimination, with certainty our softball tournament could end right after Friday night’s game if our team loses. The uncertainty of the occasion means if we win…oh if we win, we need to stay in a hotel overnight to be ready for the Saturday 8:00 a.m. game.

With certainty, Friday begins the hourly countdown to waiting in line and buying “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows”. But the uncertainty works into the fact we have secured a copy in one city (and we don’t live there anymore), reserved another copy in our new city (but we may not be back home to be in time to be able to retrieve it) and reserved a copy in the city we will be playing this softball game, just in case we have to stay overnight. Where we will buy it, very uncertain, but a copy will be in our hands before the sun rises on Saturday morning.

Our Harry Potter predictions (with certainty and uncertainty):
:Dumbledore is not dead, but instead Professor Slughorn who was using a pollyjuice potion to resemble the headmaster, received the brunt of the attack. Dumbledore is now able to work completely undercover, presumed dead, to be a hidden powerful weapon used when most needed and utterly for surprise.

:Dumbledore is not dead, for even if he was actually himself when under attack, he was protected by the potion Professor Snape uses to keep a stopper on death.

:Professor Snape is loyal to Dumbledore, not to Lord Voldemort. Professor Snape, though a former Death Eater has been unswervingly loyal to the cause of defeating Voldemort; the questionable actions which happened at the end of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince occurred because Lucious Malfoy, using a pollyjuice potion resembled Professor Snape. Professor Snape is able to be found bound in Azkaban, bound and imprisoned, in Lucious Malfoy’s cell.

:The fact that everyone exclaims that Harry has his mother Lily’s eyes is incredibly important to the power of love and friendship and trust he carries. They are not a horcrux, but a sign of the deep power unconditional and sacrificial love carry.

:Mrs. Dursley, Lily’s sister, has secret magic powers which have been intentionally suppressed by those whose mission it has been to keep Harry alive and safe throughout his childhood and adolescence.

:The biggest, most involved character throughout the entire 7 volumes is Neville Longbottom. His magical strength has been magically and powerfully suppressed, even to a point that Neville is completely unaware to the depth of power and strength he has. This suppression was provided by his parents in his infancy, provided before they were tortured into insanity, provided to hide the most serious weapon against Lord Voldemort. We as readers gain small insights every time he is on the page, through interactions with different characters, different circumstances, different challenges, joys, sorrows and insights into the past. I.e. when Neville’s grandmother sends him a Rememberall and it turns red as soon as he handles it, it signifies that he has forgotten something. What he has forgotten is truly how powerful of a force he is. Why does his grandmother cry when he is finally able to perform minor acts of magic? Because the protective power of the suppression spells are diminishing, for they are tied to his chronological age. And etc.

What for Neville…he is the key to the entire story.

:There is a death of a major character in Book #7, and I contend that it is Neville who will die, Neville, who in an act of sacrificial bravery abandons all reserve to self-protection and provides the ultimate level of power and strength to eliminate Lord Voldemeort. Upon the awareness of his power, having been released from the marks of suppression and protection, Neville moves intentionally with courage and bravery, honor and duty to save his friends. Harry will not be able to do it alone…it can only be accomplished with Neville providing this additional sacrifice. Neville and Harry are united in the fact that the prophecy about Lord Voldemeort’s demise has woven the two of them together within the tapestry of fulfillment. Neville is “the power that the Dark Lord knows not” and his provision of unconditional sacrifice to protect everyone else is the key to saving their world.

:Harry and Ginny to be married, Ron and Hermione to be married, Voldemort to be eliminated.

And there is so much more…but I am certain that tonight I am spent, and another day dawns very quickly. Enjoy your night and embrace the certainty and uncertainty of your day tomorrow. God is with you every step of the way!

Filled to the Brim

2007-07-16T20:19:00.000-04:00

Filled to the brim, spilling over
With the blessings that come from God.
Blessings that are never meant
To be kept only for me –
These blessings must be shared.

Filled to the brim, spilling over
With the joy that comes from God.
Joy that is not a reflection of
This day’s 24 hours –
This joy must be shared.

Filled to the brim, spilling over
With the holy love that comes from God.
Holy love that does not look
For the FULL line inside my heart –
This holy love must be shared.

This heart, a vessel, humble and plain,
Equipped to receive these gifts from God.
This heart, a vessel never intended
To hold them,
To evaluate them,
To catalogue them,
To maintain, sustain, contain or retain them.
This heart, a vessel, was created to be
Filled to the brim, spilling over
With the impact of God’s deep love for the world.

Human effort is inadequate, God’s power is infinite.
He gives blessing, joy and holy love,
Not for me, only me.
Instead,
He gives,
And gives,
And gives
AND GIVES
In perpetuity.
God gives blessing, joy and holy love
To be spilled out
Splashed lavishly, sloppily, indiscriminately,
Generously, intentionally, poured out with abandon.
I may never be able to know
Just how many people around me
Are thirsty for God:
Parched, dry, in the drought of a desert
Praying for an oasis, a cool, cool drink.

Praying for a drink,
A deep, gulping, thirst quenching drink
From a vessel, humble and plain
Touched by God’s blessing,
God’s joy,
God’s holy love.
A thirst quenching drink
From a vessel, humble and plain
Which is filled to the brim.

jsi

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Romans 15:13

At The Foot of Your Throne

2007-07-11T22:04:00.000-04:00

I find myself, LORD, at the foot of Your throne,

Once more completely, intentionally alone.

The deep melodies of praise

I might normally raise

Seem like a distant, untenable groan.

I worship you LORD, at the foot of Your throne,

A treasured experience, silently alone.

With a glimpse You can see

My heart open and free

There are no corners that contain an unknown.

I adore You, LORD, at the foot of Your throne,

Lovingly, amazingly, delightfully alone.

I will stay for the length

To receive divine strength,

I bend lower before You, now prone.

I admit while I’m here at the foot of Your throne,

It was nearly impossible to be this alone.

Every task, need and chore

Seems to holler, “Oh, there’s more!”

They all tap in – exhausting me to the bone.

But I have to stay here at the foot of Your throne,

I dare not postpone this delicious ALONE.

I need Your hidden manna,

Your promised bidden manna –

Please revive this poor heart – refresh, atone.

I remain with you LORD at the foot of Your throne

There is no one else here, but I am not alone –

You are here, You are near,

Your presence never domineers

There is deep love flowing in this Divine Prayer Zone.

Your hidden manna, Your deep strength is the key,

This bidden manna, restoring this empty me.

Please bring a bowlful, a plateful, a cup

Of Your sweet hidden manna, my weary hands reach up

To find a taste of Your manna

Your hidden, bidden manna.

Restore me with honey sweet hidden manna today.

jsi

He who has an ear let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. "To him that overcomes I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it." Revelation 2:17 NIV

Then Moses said to Aaron, "Say to the entire Israelite community, 'Come before the LORD, for He has heard your hearts.'" While Aaron was speaking to the whole Israelite community, they looked toward the desert, and there was the glory of the LORD appearing in the cloud. The LORD said to Moses, "I have heard the hearts of the Israelites. Tell them, 'At twilight you will eat meat and in the morning you will be filled with bread.. Then you will know that I AM the LORD your God.'" That evening quail came and covered the whole camp, and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. When the dew was gone, thin flakes like frost on the ground appeared on the desert floor. The people called the bread manna. It was white like coriander seed and tasted like wafers made with honey. Exodus 16:9-14; 31. NIV

The power of a dollar

2007-06-18T23:21:00.001-04:00

The grocery store has got my goat right now. I just left the store with so little in my cart and my wallet is lighter than air, I considered stopping by the florist to get a ribbon for it to tie to my wrist like a treasured balloon. It really burns my muffins to feel like the choices I need to make for the healthy menu for my family has to cost me an arm, a leg and a kidney to provide.

I don't stroll through the grocery store, I keep a determined pace. I need to be armed with a list, especially when I have my T.A.N.K. with me. You know the drill, especially when you head down the cereal aisle, which now has more ways to add sugar to sugar and then keep you feeling that an additional case of sweetener needs to be added.

Why is it that "Buy One, Get Two Free" sales never apply to the real food categories? Apples. Milk. Oatmeal. Chicken. Grapes. Fresh vegetables. Peanut butter. Yogurt. Salad. Crackers. Cheese. Nectarines. Rice Krispies. These items were on my list today, and it feels like highway robbery the prices I am charged to make sure there are going to be 6-9 servings of fruits and vegetables for the next three days. And yet...and yet...ooooh...and yet, for the price I needed to pay for 7 apples I could have purchased 144 Twinkies because of BOGO opportunities in the snack cake section. Or 144 Ho Hos. Or 288 Banana Flips. Or, lets get the calculator here, 1886 donut holes. Or 36 boxes of macaroni and cheese.

Our life doesn't need more Twinkies, Ho Hos, Banana Flips....there should be a triple tax value on foods which could end your life sooner simply because of their consumption. I have five different types of lettuce to choose from for our family salads - an amazing array of choice I consider: there are so many in the world who are needing a regular, consistent meal. Yet 25 steps away from my produce section is what rivals a warehouse of cream-filled, corn syrup soaked, deep fried, need-to-be-tried, pseudo-food snack aisle which begins clogging my arteries just by its presence. Its price per pound and container is so affordable, so much less that my carrots, lettuce, cantaloupes, apples and grapes - but to what value will these savings truly bring?

"An apple a day keeps the doctor away...when thrown properly" - that's my dad's adage and he laughs everytime he says it. I laugh because it tickles his fancy, as I am eating my Gala apple (or Braeburn, or Cameo or Golden Delicious or Pink Lady or Granny Smith or Jonagold. There are so many to choose from, yet a Jonathan is still my delightfully crunchy, sour favorite.) The snacks I offer our kids can run the gambit from pretzels to cheese and crackers to veggies with dip to fruit...and occasionally there are small bags of chips. I prefer to make cookies than buy them in the store, well mostly because Snickerdoodles are my favorite cookie. Butter, sugar, eggs and flour, cinnamon - the makings of a masterpiece, and I haven't found a Snickerdoodle from the grocery store that rivals a warm-from-the-oven variety, ever.

I didn't have single sale price for any of the "real food" I needed to buy, but I could have gotten 3 free cases of soda when I bought 3. Healthy choices are breaking my budget and the freezer section is helping our daily food menu. Frozen veggies are the best substitute to the produce section and made the shopping cart a well-rounded experience, but as I am choosing a California Blend or Whole Kernal Sweet Corn, I am facing the frozen dessert display offering "Buy One Get One" half gallons of premium ice cream. For the price I needed to fork over for my four bags of veggies I could have returned home with 4 gallons of Dirt Sundae, DreamCycle Supreme, Hot Fudge Brownie and Dulce Deleche Caramele. Or four apple pies with 12 servings a piece and a total of 2600 calories per pie.

I am considering sending my grocery bill to our insurance company and advocating that I need an additional layer of help at the grocery store to be able to provide a healthy lifestyle for my family! I think its a creative, think-outside-the-box mentality that is needed in combatting this grocery store farce of commodities, supply and demand faux food market. I'm not serving roasted salmon with crab legs covered with a reduced butter and garlic sauce and artichokes with gourmet leeks. I'm not preparing Argentina prime rib with fresh picked passion fruit and a side of Chilean beets served with triple cream potatoes. But there needs to be a way that a 1 pound package of real strawberries (or even frozen strawberries, for that matter) cost less than 12 boxes of Strawberry Shortcakes Jelly Rolls. Or a half gallon container of orange juice cost less than 10 2 liters of orange soda.

I don't have many dollars, and a large part of my weekly money is spent at the grocery store to feed our family of 6. I need an advocate on the side of healthy living to be stationed at my grocery store to help the power of my dollar provide the health and strength that we need.

Not another low-priced, three-layer, 24 sliced Chocolate Dream Cheesecake.

Blasting

2007-06-15T08:09:00.000-04:00

I don't always need a clock or a watch to know what time it is...and I know you understand what I mean. There are certain events which happen within our lives that are predictable, dependable that we can anticipate and these events have become part of the way we string together our day. I live in a railroad hub, and there are certain trains which are always coming through at 2:30 p.m. or 7:35 a.m.. They are predictable occurrences - I know which roads to avoid at what time of day. (That is, if I want to avoid a wait. Sometimes...I treasure a chance to wait, but let's keep that between you and me, eh?!.) Our home is within a 6 mile radius of 3 limestone quarries, and these quarries and their schedule make a big impact on our community.

They blast their aggregates with large amounts of explosives.

The first few times it happened I was startled, ran down to the basement to find out which of the walls had collapsed, then ran upstairs to find out which child had dropped a cherry bomb down the toilet and then ran outside to see if the roof on the back of the house had been ripped off. There was no damage to be found - innocent-looking children who "didn't do anything mommy" (yeah right, maybe not this time, but just you wait, I'll find out what you've been up to and then we're going round and round).

What could it be?

Once I found it, these blasts/tremors calmly became part of my morning, "Oh, it's 10:15". I will mention, I prefer the morning blasts to the afternoon wafting cloud...and that's all I will say about that. When my mom and mother-in-law both experienced their "first blast", I couldn't believe how I had placed it so cavalierly in my day. I have to admit, I had forgotten how amazingly surprised I was by the deep roaring sound and earthquake type tremors...my mom was a little shaky for about an hour. I should have warned her!

This past weekend at our Commissioning Congress in Hershey, PA Pastor Jim Cymbala drew us into the Scripture, into Isaiah 51, to reveal the Scripture's truest strength in revelation - GOD HAS A WORD TO SPEAK WITH YOU. He drew us all together to the edge of the a spiritual quarry to examine over the edge where we all came from. Isaiah's prophecy for 8 chapters is building up to chapter 51, and it includes the impact that the righteous God was calling His children to be righteous, to long for righteousness, to desire it, strive for it...righteousness was what they were created to have. Righteousness would be given by God's deepest gift to us - His Holy Presence. Not a gift from Him, not a gift chosen by Him, not a gift wrapped and delivered by Him - no the truest gift was The gift OF God.

I was so moved that he was drawn to share this Scripture with our united congregation: Isaiah 51 has had a hold on my heart for 4 months now, included in each devotional time I have, surrounded with new poetry and songs, and three new sermons. The listed poem below is one from April , and the photo is one of our nearby quarries. The Bible I had with me at Congress was the one I have used almost exclusively in these Scripture immersion times, and its margins were full of the annotated conversation God and I have been having. I was sharing my Bible with my oldest son, T. and he was following the dates and thoughts and the workings of my heart, "Boy, you really like this chapter, huh mom?!."

Yes, I really do.

Added to its margin is a Congress 06/07 date...
From the prophet Isaiah, "Listen to me, all you who are serious about right living and committed to seeking God. Ponder the rock from which you were cut, the quarry from which you were dug. Yes, ponder Abraham, your father and Sarah who bore you....Revelation flows from Me, My decisions light up the world. My deliverance arrives on the run, my salvation right on time. I'll bring justice to the peoples." Isaiah 51:1-2;4-6 The Message

Lord, I devote my heart to right living, to living for You. Change my heart to shine your love. Blast away the hardened parts which prevent my heart from being flexible, tender and supple. Keep me committed to seeking You - Your will, Your activity, Your touch, Your inspiration and guidance.

Blasting

The earth shakes, in its predictable way
It’s 10:15 a.m., not the dawn of the day:
The quarry, on duty, exactly on time
Is blasting it’s limestone, aggregates and lime.

The BLASTING that’s quaking,
That BLASTING that’s shaking
This BLASTING that’s making
Its roaring presence known;
Intentional blasting which reaches,
Stretches and grasps
Every corner, wall and window
Of my cul-de-sac home.

The earth shakes, in its predictable way
I don’t need a clock, the tremors convey
That the quarry, on duty, to the minute exact
Has its shift engaged and its explosives packed.

The LORD holds up a mirror
And calls me nearer…

My heart shakes, in its predictable way
I am before Holy God at the dawn of the day:
He is speaking on duty, exactly on time
And is blasting the hardness of heart that is mine.

The BLASTING that’s quaking,
That’s BLASTING that’s shaking,
This BLASTING that’s making
God’s Holy presence impart
Intentional blasting which reaches,
Stretches and grasps
Each room, shelf and closet
Of my cul-de-sac heart.

My heart shakes, in its predictable way
I don’t need a clock – I embrace this chance to pray
God’s presence, on duty, issuing a fresh start
Brings compelling love to satiate my heart.

He calls my name clearly
“Dear heart, keep yourself near Me.”

jsi

The LORD of Hope in the Land of the Living

2007-06-04T00:40:00.000-04:00

Psalm 27 carries so many points of power and strength, a Word straight to my heart this morning.

"The LORD is my light and my salvation - whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life - of whom shall I be afraid?" verse 1
Lord, when You are the stronghold of my life, everything else falls into its place and its perspective. "A place for everything and everything in its place" is not just helpful information and housecleaning advice, it is advice for my heart. Lord, please keep the details of my heart in place. Align these perspectives so none of them get out of balance. These medical details and the fear they bring - don't let it consume my heart. Prevent me from "filling in the blanks" before the doctor does. Calm my heart, it trembles so. Attend to these concerns, these details that have no answers for me but You know all about and will show me one at a time. Give me Your patience and assurance that no matter what, You are there.

"One thing I ask of the LORD, this is what I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to seek Him in His temple. For in the day of trouble He will keep me safe in His dwelling; He will hide me in the shelter of His tabernacle and set me high upon a rock." verses 4-5
Lord, I ask so many things of You. I talk to You all day long, reaching out for Your strength and guidance. Thank you for humbly, powerfully drawing me back to the awareness that You are not my spiritual grocery store, waiting upon me hand and foot. I ask just to be able to be in Your presence, Lord. Your presence is the deepest blessing of my life, not what You will do for me or protect me from. I am drawn to You because of who You are, You call my name.
"I will sing and make music to the LORD." verse 6Lord, I draw such encouragement and power from making music. Thank you for a song in my heart to be expressed. I sing and make music to praise Your name! Thank you for others who resonate with the same desire to worship Your name and presence with the overflowing expression of music. I do not make music for the audience, for my husband, for my horn section, for my children, for my congregation. I sing and make music for You, Lord!
"My heart says of me, 'Seek His face!' Your face, O LORD will I seek." verse 8I look for Your activity, Lord, for Your touch and movement. Encourage that desire to look for You...help me to always look for You.
"Though my father and mother forsake me, the LORD will receive me. Teach me Your way , O LORD; lead me in a straight path" verse 11
My parents have shown me deep, unconditional love and raised me in a caring and positive way. But as I am an adult, it is more obvious to me how they are not perfect. Prevent my criticism LORD, hear my concerns and transform them into a ministry I can share with my parents. They have never turned their back on me, but I need Your wisdom and guidance to lead me, especially when concerning what You need to have shared with my parents. Thank you for drawing my into your family, calling me Your child, and showing me, without out doubt, the straight way I need to walk.
"I am confident of this: I would have given up long ago if I had not seen the LORD of hope in the land of the living." verse 13

Lord, Your hope has been so compelling to me. This world needs hope, divine hope, a reason to live, a reason to continue this life. Too many people around me feel hopeless. Continue to use me as a channel of Your hope, your divine encouragement that life is worth living and has powerful, compelling purpose. Help me Lord to hold onto the fact that there are no gifts or publications or groceries or clothing items or utility interventions that are more important than giving the people who turn to me Your divine Word that today is the day that You have made and we can rejoice! Thank you Lord for the people in my life who witness to Your activity - they are physical reminders that You are here with us, in the land of the living. Continue to inspire us to be Your physical evidence of deep, compelling compassion and transforming power.

Thank you, Lord Thank you Lord Thank you, Lord Thank you, Lord Thank you, Lord
Thank you, Lord

Odyssey of a lifetime

2007-06-01T13:45:00.000-04:00

"Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns driven time and again off course, once he had plundered the hallowed heights of Troy. Many cities of men he saw and learned their minds, many pains he suffered, heartsick on the open sea, fighting to save his life and bring his comrades home. But he could not save them from disaster, hard as he strove, the recklessness of their own ways destroyed them all, the blind fools, they devoured the cattle of the Sun and the Sun god wiped from sight the day of their return. Launch out on his story, Muse,daughter of Zeus, start from where you will - sing for our time, too." Homer, The Odyssey

Odysseus, the man of twists and turns of the Homeric hymn ode. Odysseus has been my planned journey for the summer with the kids, and I am so excited. Several different volumes, and an audiobook version which is narrated by Sir Ian McKellan, have been on hold at the library for what seems like forever, but they are all coming in together just in time. Because of our late June departure, we may have to run through it here in NW OH and pick it up again in NE OH with our own little Odyssey adventure in the middle. Believed to have been compiled by Homer, the woven tapestry with the Cyclops and sirens, Medusa and Hercules, amazing feats of strength and failure, weakness and moral character, it truly is the greatest of stories. Within its stanzas a reader finds life hanging in the balance, the reward of courage and right choices, of devoted and determined love and the pull of home. I have planned to read The Odyssey with the kids this summer, and including other Greek reinforcements such as food and history - I think stuffed grape leaves may require more than one try, but I believe olives and figs are safe bets, lemon chicken, gyros and lamb kebabs are going to be a well-embraced hit. We wouldn't want to forget baklava, but that cannot be an everyday escapade, it takes long enough to make that it should discourage having too much.

Also, Director Andrei Konchalovsky has directed an amazing movie version of Odysseus' travels, with actors like Armand Assante, Greta Scacchi, Isabella Rossalini and Bernadette Peters. We'll watch that after we get through the stories of this man punished whose only desire is to return home to his wife Penelope, which he is able to do after nearly 10 years. Your imagination can fill in between the lines of the written word, but a visual component makes things so memorable.

So joined by Sir Ian McKellan (Gandalf, XMen) and Simon and Garfunkel (Homward Bound) I anticipate the adventure stretching out ahead of us this summer, affected by the poignancy that months ago while I was preparing for these Odyssey adventures, there were others planning and preparing an Odyssey adventure for our family. I don't plan to have to meet Cyclops on his island to do battle, but the resonance of these Homeric hymns is that though they were described in Greek mythology, the narrator beseeches the Muse to sing the story, "start from where you will - sing for our time, too."

I want to see courage, strength and determination in the eyes and imagination of my children, and I knew Homer's Odyssey was just the ticket for this time. There may be time for The Iliad this summer, but I believe I will hold Sisyphus and Virgil for another time - if they make the summer visit it will probably be within our 13 hour drive to ME. For right now, there are cobwebs to find, books to pack, clothes to sort, crevices to clean, files to file, letters to type, briefs to manage, camperships to align, meetings to schedule and attend...and an Odyssey adventure of a lifetime!

God Who Prepares

2007-05-23T06:27:00.000-04:00

Christ of the Cross of St. John
Salvador Dahli, 1951
John 14:1-14

This fine print was the most recent installment of my long-tended sermon series, MasterPeace, using fine art of exquisite artists, covering about 1000 years of art linked with the tapestry of redemption found within the Old and New Testament. Some sermons (about 9) have been aligned with paintings, like this one; others have been paired with musical works (about 6), like Beethoven's Symphony #7, movement 2. Sometimes its sculpture or photography (about 5); but God's Word in the Scripture always speaks poignantly to me, especially when I can have a visual or audio focus to it. I know I am not alone in this, which is why I continue to add more pieces.

It is thrilling and moving to me to see the play of shadow and light, to follow a light source, examine the symbolism of the artist, determine the perspective and study the detail of precision. I enjoy the expressive arts, which engage and embrace you, which tenderly, but unmistakeably draw you deeper into thought and inspiration, bringing contemplation and illumination. And having that inspiration, thought, illumination and contemplation centered on God. An artist does not need to have "labeled" themselves as Christian for me to appreciate what they created. I am moved and inspired by creation, and what artists produce frequently resound deeply with me.

Salvador Dali has an exceptional perspective which I appreciate, but mind you, my home is not a gallery dedicated to the lifetime of his works...some of his stuff is, well, not my cup of tea. There I said it...yet of this MasterPeace sermon series, I use 3 of his paintings. He was very spiritual, very Jesus-centered in his spiritual depictions, and what his own words say about this creation here preaches volumes.

The detail in this painting may be too small for you to see, but within this depiction, it has profound doctrine displayed. The perspective shown is as from above, as the artist describes, as if God the Father was looking to the world through the sacrificial death of Jesus. The light is warm and comes from above, as if the hope and direction are coming from God. There is an extended triangle displayed, through the outstretched arms of Christ and His bowed head, symbolizing the impact and presence of the Trinity. The cross is dark, and extends to earth, which is shown as a desert with mountains and a lake with a boat and fishermen. The perspective from above connects those dwelling on earth with God through the impact of the Christ of the cross. There are no nails holding Christ to the cross, not in His arms, hands or feet yet He remains suspended.

Christ was held on the cross not by spikes and spears - no, He was kept there by the sin of the world. Our indescribable gift from God, that while we were still sinners, yet sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 8:3-4; Romans 5:8) Our indescribable gift from God, He prepared an eternal home for us because of Jesus (John 14)

And though resonating with the study of John 14 and Romans 5 and 8, though having prepared this sermon through inspiration, prayer and study, my favorite part of worship this morning was nothing that I did at all. A week ago I gave my daughter a song to please sing as a solo, when she was ready, and she was ready sooner than I expected so Dave added her to the morning bulletin. I was totally floored as my baby girl was singing,

Jesus, I heard You had a big house where I could have a room of my own.

Jesus I heard you had a big yard, big enough to let a kid roam.

I heard you had clothes in Your closet, just the right size that I wear.

Jesus I heard if I give You my heart then You'll let me go there.

Jesus I heard about mealtime when all the children come to eat.

I heard you had a great big table where every kid could have his own seat.

Jesus they said there would be plenty of good things to share.

And Jesus, I'd just like to tell you I sure would love to go there.

Jesus, I heard in your big house there's plenty of love to go around

I heard there's always singing and laughter to fill the place with happy sounds.

And I've been thinking that a friend who would give me all that He's got

Before I even have met Him, well, He sure must love me alot.

Jesus, I'd just like to tell you I sure do love you alot!

Amber Thompson

With not a dry eye in the house, now I need to stand in the pulpit and speak, as my prayer is, "Lord, please I need some composure, I can't cry my whole way through this sermon." Dave said after, "It was a fine sermon, hon, but Abby got me and had me for 20 minutes!" Too true. It was a perfect pairing, and when delivered again, her song will be after the sermon. The terms of eternal life, provided by Jesus Himself in His own words (John 14) and hearing those promises paraphrased through the depth of simplicity in a child's voice - can there be a deeper message?

God has prepared for us, there are no circumstances or pains or joys that are beyond His touch or His reach. He cares about you, He calls you to faith, He sure does love you alot.

Paean to the Endangered Art of Spelling

2007-05-16T15:27:00.000-04:00

Eyes Before Ease by Larry Beason
I put this book on hold at the library three weeks ago, and it is steadily moving up the list, I'll have it by next week, so Librarian Sue assures me. One of many on my "Hold list" but the one I am most anticipating.

Spelling truly is more than simply the correct arrangement of consonants and vowels on a list for a test given every Thursday afternoon. Correct spelling divulges the human experience itself. Where our language has been, through which wars and settlements has it endured and been affected by - it all shows in the spelling of certain words.

"To err is human" is wisely recorded for all to read; to err is human, but to spell correctly is better. So much of our technical age has us utilizing automated spelling devises (where would we be without SpellCheck?), encountering abbreviated spelling techniques, (BTW-LOL. ITNF, my POS S TTYL). You've been encumbered by them, I know you have. Entire conversations are communicated without breaking open a noun, verb, adjective, or utilizing capitalization or punctuation. Forget about the overuse of the comma (the prime error in my 9th grade English and Grammar class) - "lets just throw every usage of punctuation out the window and simply stop a thought when we are done thinking, whether it is finished or not." Let me tell you, nothing and I mean nothing gets my goat like finding a typo on one of my own documents, a typographical error that I have mistakenly typed, overlooked, avoided or skimmed past. I hate to spell things wrong - I hate it! It applies to Lotus Notes, bulletins, school papers - the whole lot. No one wants to be a member of the Untied Methodist Church, but its happens everyday of the week simply by the cursory care so many give to spelling. And how many officers are connected with The Salavation Army? It happens so easily! I feel like somewhere deep down in the lurking scheme of my DNA God emplanted a typo-finder...they jump off the page at me. It is an unfortunante curse to ALWAYS be the bearer of tedious wrongness to unsuspecting souls.

People who spell better succeed at higher rates in every single profession. Spelling lets us communicate with others and it indicates our intelligence (high or low) before we even put on a power suit, enter an interview, meet a client for a project campaign. Before someone has the opportunity to assess our verbal capabilities, the written page carries an equivalent of what we consider important. My uniform may fit me impeccably, I may be able to quote the entire Psalter in Latin but if I cannot spell united worship, my reputation is spoiled.

The endangered art of spelling is not without it champions - winner of the 78th National Scribbs Spelling Bee 2006 was Anurag Kashyap spelling appoggiatura - an embellishing note in musical manuscript, usually one step above or below the note it precedes, and indicated by a half-sized note. (I was so excited - I knew how to spell that word and ran and showed Abby in her piano book where one was in the piece she is preparing for her lesson tomorrow. So did several in the audience...a collective, celebration gasp we all inhaled as he signified by the giant smile on his face, "Oh, do I know how to spell this...")

May 31 is the live broadcast of the 2007 National Spelling Bee, and I'm getting my notebook ready with a sharpened pencil and I may need to tape it or watch it after it's live broadcast, but I do want to see its action-packed competition.

Yeah, don't laugh at me. I know I was watching last year's competition, there are hours of it available on tv or the internet. I know the NBA is in the throes of its tournament playoff time with teams facing elimination...and the Cavs are hanging in strong. I know that the NHL Stanley Cup tournament playoff time still has the Red Wings competing strong, hitting hard and scoring fast. I'm aware that my Machine pitch baseball team tonight won their game 13-1 and my Little League game needed to be called on the verge of high-wind thunderstorm in the 4th inning. I know that in MLB, the Cleveland Indians are beating the Minnesota Twins, in NASCAR there are record-breaking penalties being doled out - there is a ton of Sports News right now. But I am glued to the screen of ESPN2 as these 11 year old and 13 year old spellers simply shine for the world to see.

They are exquisite and phenomenal - and my heart is racing at their added shows of excellence and temerity.

peccavi cantist onomasiologic ceraunograph eminentissimo

onychophagy (the compulsive biting of fingernails) epideitic - rhetoric

exsiccosis - dehydration sobornost - spiritual harmony hodiernal - present day

and the eliminators of two spellers in round 19

trouvaille - a lucky find

roscian - the skill of acting

As I sit with my notebook, I am spelling with them, trying my knowledge and laughing with them as the giant S for the background SCRIBBS falls off the wall. I sigh with relief when I find a word I know, or can recognize the foundational spelling from the definition or the language of origin.

Whew...$22,000.00 cash prize and scholarship money for college tuition to a college of their choice - an exceptional grand prize!

It was the first time in 45 years that more than two contestants advanced to the championship rounds, there being three for three rounds. There were actually only 9 words left, and if they all would have continued spelling correctly, they would have all been the Spelling Champions.

Thrilling beyond belief for me, and my young ones as they retreat to bed are faking their newest awareness of phobias. They are doing their best imitations of clinophobia (the fear of going to bed) or hypnophobia (fear of sleep). Neither are working, so I must scoot them up there.

Enjoy your evening and always know, there is a world of telling in your realm of spelling!

Dandelions, wildflowers and Slurpies

2007-05-15T12:16:00.000-04:00

As always seems to happen to our lives in Salvation Army ministry, early April adds a new gear to the schedule, ready to kick all speeds into hyperdrive. More to be accomplished, many programs coming to a focus and climax before the summer break. Network opportunities adding their final meetings and awards before summer claims. Graduations, weddings, birthdays add more pastel icings and flowers, dresses and balloons, hugs and kisses, joy mixed with pride, inspiration and tears. My birthday and our wedding anniversary have frequently been shared with a Civic Dinner or an Annual Dinner or a ballroom event of some sort. Dave just keeps reminding me with tenderness that he arranged it all for me, that I looking great in a uniform and he looks dashing and promises to save the best dance on my card. Several concerts, and musicals and plays and other stage-based creations - so many performances to be prepared for, to participate in and then to check off the list with a sigh of relief and accomplishment.

And then there is baseball season.

The lists were received in hand today and already God has answered many prayers about potential time conflicts, garnered family phone numbers to help filling the holes of when Dave or I couldn't be available and limited the misses to nearly none. Intentional ministry happens when baseball dirt has been mixed in with our vans and clothes and service. In a way that is predictable, baseball season, whether we are coaching or not, has reached our hearts and the hearts of other parents deeply in a way that cannot be ignored. I keep a Bible (Kate calls it my baseball Bible, the nearly indestructible bound - certainly not leather) in the middle of our driver and passenger seat and it comes out with the chairs, sunscreen, picnic dinner, blanket and sunglasses. Everytime. It is beat up, stained and slightly warped from a mad gotta-get-out-of-the-instant-thunder/lightning storm dash which still found us soaked to the bone.

It is tearstained and dogeared, with bookmarkers that are dried dandelions and pressed wildflowers. Mostly it is connections with moms, but dads as well, and the conversation always includes spiritual questions, heart talks, needed discipline, encouragement that they are doing the right thing, lonely nights when a husband is three weeks on the other coast with his job, an aggressive court date over child-support, loss of a job, family celebrations/funerals - the works. And favorite verses are easily found because they have been turned to so frequently, as easy as finding the Psalms - right there it is.

John 14 is one of them, and I look at it tonight and recognize the stain that covers it is a little bit of flower pollen, a little bit of Slurpie. Looking through the colors I hear Jesus talking with me, "Don't let your heart be troubled..."

Actually going to these practices and games can be slightly demanding, requiring me to be "prayed up" and willing to be open and listen. Listening to a person, really hearing what is said (and just as importantly, what is NOT said) requires a compassionate and deep store of stamina.

"Don't let your heart be troubled..."

Stamina has not been my strong suit these past few weeks.

It was not until I was perched at the edge of the hospital examination table this afternoon did I acknowledge why my patience was unbelievably short, my memory scattered, my concentration distracted, my heart pulled in so many directions.

I've been worried over something that is very wrong, and each doctor's visit is leading to another one, a more specific one, a more thorough one. Specific to not send warnings of alarm, each new face has helped express rationale reasons and potential explanations, "these tests are to eliminate the unknown so we can focus on the known".

So there, with lowered lights and technical machines, I began answering the most natural of questions and responding with the same to help occupy the time of this 30 minute test. My nurse replied to my questions and it was obvious, both of us had hearts that were full; the conversation was natural and unhindered. When your heart is full there is not need for small talk, diminutive answers about your favorite sports teams or the weather you expect for your next garden party. Life issues were on the surface here.

Her daughter...graduation...communication...."where did the time go"...divorce...uncertainty of life.

Her tears and my tears.

"Don't let your heart be troubled..."
She knew I didn't just come in off the street looking for a place to rest my aching feet and pass the time playing Euchre. She knew my reasons, and followed the breadcrumbs of information, connecting the dots with dates and events and details. Apologizing slightly, she knew my heart was just as concerned. Her reassurance and comfort were tangible, encouraging and tenderly applied.

These spiritual conversation opportunities weave in and out of my day, and since I spend my days tracing God's activity, they are natural and expected. The verse I shared with her was for me just as soundly, John 14:1, the words of Jesus to his disciples, the words from my flower-pollen, Slurpie stained Bible - "Don't let your heart be troubled, trust in God trust also in Me."

And I let her know that my heart prayer every hour has developed into, "Precious Lord, please hold my heart" because it quakes with concern and worry, is easily angered and over-occupied with future details which have yet to be seen or determined.

She grasped my hand and said, "That will be mine too. Jesus needs to hold my heart."

Don't let your heart be troubled...Jesus promises that whatever meets us in the future has already been prepared for us by the loving and caring, merciful Heavenly Father. Nothing is faced alone. Nothing is a surprise to God. No detail is off His radar or beyond His awareness. No circumstance is unanticipated by our Father God; He has prepared...He has prepared.

Pioneer

2007-05-10T09:58:00.000-04:00

Pioneer Women by Joanna Stratton, wow, has this book been compelling reading. I can't help but to place myself in the shoes of the characters of the past...would I have had the courage, the strength, the tenacity to leave behind everything I knew as home to strive for a dream? Could I keep my children alive, my husband alive, perform all those surgeries, save all those souls?

There are no Conestoga wagons leaving the Mississippi River to venture into the untamed west - the physical frontier does not exist anymore. But there are still frontier pioneers, on spiritual journeys, encountering the unknown, the unclear, the dangerous, the undefined. Some dear friends I know who are encountering a personal frontier right now. A new diagnoses. A new widowhood. A new grief to not be able to use that long expected baby's blanket. A new job. A marriage. A divorce. A planned surgery or an unplanned surgery. A ministry. A broken friendship.

Are you one, a pioneer, balancing upon the edge of a knife into the unknown? God our holy Father has gone on before you, and promises to be with you every step of the way. Hold onto Him with all you've got.

Pioneer
Hold on with all the strength you have, press on through your fear;

You walk into this unknown - You are a pioneer!

Loving Jehovah has walked before you, taken extra care, He is so near,

He has gone ahead, cleared the way - you are His pioneer.

See His hand there, hold it plain - the path you walk seems so unclear;

But our loving Lord knows every step. He is with you, tired pioneer.

You travel light, so little you bring into this new unbroken frontier,

Press on with courage, every step in your voyage, trembling pioneer.

The journey is long, steep, rocky, cold and though your heart is sincere

The darkness can feel oppressive, strong and gentle pioneer.

Our Guiding, Holy, Loving Father anticipates each single fear

Your steps feel lonely, but you are not alone in your voyage, pioneer.

Every heart break, each loneliness, uncertain steps severe

Have been prepared by God for you, faithful pioneer.

Other roads you pass...they are smooth and safe and clear.

You may be tempted to abandon this one, discouraged pioneer.

But your Holy Father has gone on before you and left His signposts - persevere!

Your journey is not easy, but it's yours, no one else's- have courage hopeful pioneer.

Hold on with all the strength you have. Press on, through all your fear,

You have obeyed the call of God, He is with you, weary pioneer.

Your steps feel uncertain,the path seems to disappear

Yet the Holy Father is there with you. You are His, faithful pioneer.

jsi

God Almighty, tender in love says, "I'll show up and take care of you as I promised and bring you back home from your journey. I know what I AM doing. I have it all planned out- plans to take care of you and not abandon you, plans to give you a future to hope for. When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I will listen. When you come looking for me, you'll find me. Yes, when you get serious about finding me and want it more than anything else, I'll make sure you are never disappointed. Jeremiah 29:10b-14a The Message

Jesus Takes This Walk With Me

2007-04-24T23:07:00.000-04:00

The Road to Emmaus, my turn to speak this morning, with my sermon titled Taking a Walk With Jesus. (yeah, I know not the most creative titling, but it was clear and to the point. I'll do better next time, promise.) I greatly appreciate the Gospel of Luke, how the author included so many different people, teachings, healings, workings of God within the lives of people that desperately needed hope.

When I am preparing a sermon I always find at least a full page of questions after interacting with the Scripture: the hows, whys, wheres, they are frequently easy to answer (or find or research). The questions with the answers, those are like checking off my list. Yet once the sermon-ating process (yeah, yeah, this is Merriam Webster's territory, word fusion - you understand what I mean, you do it too, I know it.) is rolling, its not the answered questions that shape the whole body of my sermon, it has to include some of these unasnwered ones, too. I cannot answer every single question, these probing little fissures of curiosity and inquisition.

A few of them remain, linked together within this passage, they remain for me tonight, trivial, non-inflammatory, non-theologically based; there is no foundational doctrine which will be affected by the answers or the withholding of such. But they make me smile just to think about it - Question: Did the disciples recognize Jesus when He broke the bread because He always did the same thing with a loaf before He broke it? Like flipped it around, spinning it in His fingers? Does He smell its aroma to make sure its fresh? Turn it over as if an inspection, thank the provider for their artistry in baking? Did He save the heel for Himself (my favorite part, and if I was doing the breaking, I would try to find a way to maneuver it to be on my plate.) and ask for some schmear and lox? Did He even eat any or was the breaking - the habit these disciples had witnessed over and over again - was it the habitual behavior they recognized? Or was the recognition based upon God' release of the Holy Spirit to realize whose presence had encouraged them so deeply?

Luke always find a way to bring a good word, a solid word, and Emmaus brings a poignant insight to Jesus who continues to teach, again and again, the Suffering Servant is the fulfillment of the Prophets and our spiritual walk will include questions, discouragement and uncertainty. As believers we can reach out and draw the importance of truth, the Holy Spirit reminds us we never walk alone.

Jesus Takes This Walk With Me

Every step, in rhythm
I step out to the day;
Jesus takes this walk with me
No waiting, no delay.

Sometimes this walk is rapid,
Full of things to do,
People, places, circumstances -
A schedule to get through.

Still, Jesus takes this walk with me,
Not critical of the pace,
But simply, truly reminding me
“Life is not a race.”

Sometimes this stride is slackened,
With questions yet to ask,
“What will happen?” “How can it be?”
“Am I really up to this task?”

Still Jesus takes this walk with me,
Not demanding or distraught;
Jesus keeps this pace as well,
Hears the queries I have brought.

My questions, rants and ravings
Are not too much for Him;
Jesus hears my heart, completely,
And then fills it to the brim.

His answers in conversation
Always show He knows me best;
I cannot see the future
Or know all about my quest.

Still, He gives me deep encouragement
When things seem so unknown;
Jesus takes this walk with me,
I am never, ever alone.

jsi

As they approached the village to which they were going, Jesus acted as if he were going on farther. But they urged him strongly, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over.” So he went to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight. They asked each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?”…They returned to Jerusalem at once, and told what had happened to them on the way, and how Jesus was recognized by them when he broke the bread. Luke 24:28-35

Special Bag-o-Faces

2007-04-20T00:27:00.000-04:00

Three of four horns are here, as the Maestro's baton is engaged in the downbeat, as the last horn is coming down the walkway. A rich, lush, warm sound is given in Rimsy-Korsakov's Legend of the Invisible City. We horns stick together, bringing a heroic melody (i.e. theme from The Magnificent Seven), or a rich fully fleshed chord (i.e. Tchaikovsky or Wagner), with cuivre (The Rite of Spring)or legato (Beethoven IV), ranging throughout our 4 1/2 octave range. As a section, the horns bring a wide range of colors, volumes and timbres and for nearly every concert, we get the chance to play our face off. Rarely do we sit without an excerpt or a long tone to play.

"Did you bring your face tonight?" horn 2 asks me, as we share an eye-rolling glance of understanding, knowing the different faces you need to play the horn. You've got your high face, solo face, blastissimo face, oompah face, circular breathing face, staccato face, legato face. And then you've got your 4th horn face - low face, or better known as Basement Face. You gotta make sure you bring your special Bag-o-Faces for a performance or rehearsal. There are so many things asked of the horn section, and you may need to reach into this Bag-o-Faces to survive the performance. But when you wear the Basement face, you are dealing with a different animal altogether. You need an unhinged jaw with a rock solid slightly jutted lower jaw to create these loud, longheld pedal notes. You need to tongue differently, anticipating a downbeat. You need to tune differently, compensating for the physics component that a note that low will almost always and forever be - SHARP.

Although the french horn is made out of brass, we are more akin to the wind section - with the flutes, clarinets, bassoon, oboe. It is within the wind section the horn is in its glory (and power, and beauty and strength and stamina - oh can you tell I love the horn). You do not find horns sitting within the brass section - with trombones and trumpets and tubas. To do so would divorce us from the true power we bring. No, we find ourselves with the reeds at the heart of the orchestra, beating plainly the movement of the melody and its direction.

"Did you bring your face tonight?"

It is here at the heart of orchestra practice a few nights ago that I sit in a seat I have rarely filled, this basement beauty of solid tonic provision for each and every single chord. I, who have spent nearly my entire musical life existing above the staff, in the stratosphere in the high horn (and excelling at it) find my long-recessed fright, it had yet to come true in my lifetime until April 2007...

...Jessie Irwin, 4th horn.

"Did you bring your face tonight?"

Four horns in a typical section (some Mahler and Wagner has 8-10 horns - glory!), and each fulfilling a special purpose. Its not as simple as 1 good player and three next in line of talent and skill or years of tenure. To the contrary, it is more organized and strategic than that. 1st and 3rd horns - high horns. 2nd and 4th horns - low horns. 1st - generally most solos, 3rd to double many aspects (where I have spent nearly 85% of my time). 2nd duet accompaniment (finding me 12% of the time) with 1st horn in soloistic passages.

And then there's 4th horn.

Long pedal notes, lower than many trombone parts, sounding as is a Bomber pilot has approached overhead and is hovering before it drops is bombs and vamooses. Holding notes for 36-60 beats over 8-12 measures. Punctuating through the orchestra with the timpani, announcing the bass rhythms, bringing the tonic to most chords with the bassoons steadily there and the flute airily delivering their flighty melody.

'Did you bring your face tonight?"

Those pedal tones take 4 times the amount of air, because your aperture (lip shape) is so large to play these basement beauties, and usually they are in a solo manner so they must be substantial and loud. Enough of them in a row has me seeing spots and the room slightly tilting, my head spinning from the feeling of having received and expelled and received and expelled so much oxygen so quickly, over and over. Its quite a rush. I could use a bellows from a blacksmith for one chord, which Mr. Maestro insists on slowly rallentando to fade to nothing. Fade to nothing is exactly what I feel is happening to me, as my lungs are screaming for another gasp of life-bringing breath as my eyes loose their focus and begin to fade to black. Don't slow down for effect, Maestro, or I'm gonna give the audience an effect that is unexpected as someone needs to revive my lifeless body, crumpled in heap on the floor, clutching my Holton masterpiece securely to my lips.

We are playing our Russian concert, lots of Rimsy-Korsakov, with Scheherazade and Flight of the Bumble Bee and Mlada Dance Variations and a few more. The Toledo Ballet Company will perform with us, exquisite. Its exciting, rich romantic music which evokes deep passion and feeling. Russian music would be nowhere without long, gorgeous string cadenzas and the richness of the horn. We are so excited and fulfilled to be able to play the variety of this concert, even if the fillings in my head feel slightly looser from the velocity of volume required to announce my pedal B natural.

So, as I reach into this familiar Bag-o-Faces for Basement face, it strikes me poignant, "How many faces will I wear/have I worn this week?"

Happy face I get to prepare and teach a lesson plan for Venice Elementary, Mrs. W. 3rd grade class and stay with them all day long!

Kissey Face Today, Dave and my 16th wedding anniversary, though is full of responsibilities can still include some devoted time together

Stinking mad face Needing to escort the front desk librarian to the stack which holds the book they claim I still have checked out and helping them know that this fine of $17.35 is inaccurate, null and void, pointless.

Satisfied face Reception of an apology and direct correction of an error which has prevented me from being able to borrow any books for a week

Cheese face I am the one who takes about 95% of the pictures in our family, and it became sorely obvious three days ago that there was hardly any evidence that my husband had a wife or his children had a mother. Before Dave wrote away to the convent for a governess, we all decided to let everyone take a few pictures of mom.

Frostbite face Though the temperature hasn't reached above 48 degrees, we had a full week of baseball practice.

Face of Surprise When the richest man in town arrives at church on Sunday and stays, with his friend, for the whole service and has spiritual insights following the service on your sermon and Bible study points.

Mortified face When three days later I am able to understand that a church visit was, instead of a method of active and personal encouragement, actually a form of penance for the awful decision he helped solidify that we had be unaware of yet.

High road, composed face Keeping my conversation civil as someone who had recklessly insulted both Dave and I in a public fashion last week attempts to make amends (in their own It's-no-fault-of-mine demeanor). Apology sort of given from this community leader, yet decidely accepted, but it will take a longtime before there is enough trust built to even consider them close enough to try to do it again.

Tear stained face This week brought the worst reality yet, more correction from this community for the void of integrity the previous officer exhibited. Absolute removal of huge amounts of desperately needed funding, delivered in a letter (cowardly) instead of in person ( the least they could do). The only people getting punished in this whole matter have been us, and I feel battered and bruised, inside and out, from the whole experience.

Sleepy face I haven't slept a whole night through in 3 weeks

Face of PEACE NEOSA has the 24/7 prayer opportunity through the end of April and I took the 2-3 a.m. hour for its entirety. If I won't be asleep, I can be very specific about the time I spend. This early morning prayer vigil has frequently lasted longer than an hour, bringing grace and peace to tumultuous days. Unaware of the deep level of opposition we would meet for days on end, I signed up for this prayer opportunity unaware what I would be praying about. My answer came plainly and God has been strengthening and encouraging.

My special Bag-o-Faces, all of them neatly stacked right in there next to Basement face. Who knew there would be so many, and so many remaining in there not highlighted? I may need to wash these all before resting with my handy-dandy Sudoku volume tonight...a girl has to look her best you know.

Embrace and enjoy your evening!

Prayer in the Laundryroom

2007-04-14T19:52:00.000-04:00

I sit here quietly, appreciating the presence of home, as the washing machine spins its burgeoning load and the dryer tumbles its load with freshness and warmth. The aromas of Tide with Febreze and Ultra Downy bring a calming and collected spirit to me. Thank you Lord, for the opportunity to have enough clothing that each one has their size which fits, with shoes to wear for school, play and church. Thank you for providing a chance, a grateful chance, to be able to wash and repair these clothes, so they will last 6 months or longer if necessary. Thank you for fresh clean water, appliances and electricity - I am so blessed to be a servant for my family, and I do this all for you.

I very much appreciate the task of doing the laundry - it is a job which offers so much completion and reward, by seeing messy, smelly, dirty mountains separated by color and textile, washed, dried, folded meeting my eyes with mountains of straight, organized piles. One for each person, their piles await their next trip upstairs"...and don't forget to put them away, not cast them in the closet willy nilly." (I've never met Mr. Willy Nilly, but in my opinion, he's a messy lad who can never find his left shoe or his homework because he is careless with his articles and possessions, dropping them wherever he deems fit to be released.) Thank you Lord, for providing my family a place to call home - your provision is tremendous and full. Thank you, Lord, for an opportunity to teach my children (and husband - oh brother) of the blessing which comes with having a home which has a place for everything. When everything is in its place, they are findable, dependable, retrievable, containable, manageable. Help me Lord, when I encountner the messy parts of life that I don't not snap or over-react, but grab my handy-dandy tiara and become the Queen of Clean to be a servant in these tasks of cleanliness and organization. Help me Lord to be loving, caring, gentle and patient when I serve You as I serve them.

As I retract the dryer load, my youngest daughter K. just happened by - since it was pj time, and her pjs were in this dryer load, I saved her a trip by having them ready for her. And she recognized one of the simplest yet deepest pleasures of life - soft, clean warm clothes straight from the dryer. The toasty feeling doesn't last forever, but you never forget being wrapped in supreme warmth and coziness as when you pull them on and feel surrounded by the toasty hug. Thank you Lord for simple pleasures which can easily be shared, which remind us of how deeply blessed we are.

The laundry is a sign of a trip well spent. We have been away since Monday lunch, traveling to New York and returning. It was a trip which started because I needed to be at THQ for the Holiness Symposium, whose guest speaker this year was Rev. Dr. Samuel Vassel - exceptional! (It will need to be a future blog - good words from the Good Word) But it evolved into so much more because of several factors: one being I haven't purchased a uniform since our Commissioning in 1997. These two uniforms I have been wearing have lasted more than a decade, been worn through training, and have looked not very perky lately. I wash my skirts (and Dave's uniform pants) in the washing machine, line dry and then iron, and I use a home dryer dry cleaning kit for our tunics. It is a very frugal way to take care of these uniforms, and they have lasted so long. It helps that I made a maternity uniform and used that for all it was worth for three of our four children, so my uniforms did get a reprieve for a bit, but needless to say, they have seen the rough side of the war and could use another to help pass around the duty. So a visit to Trade was important for both Dave and I. When Dave lost 120 pounds he got one uniform last year to fit, and had the others tailored down, but they could only be brought in so much without losing their integrity and styling. So he needed a fitting, something which cannot be done from a distance. I need a uniform, Dave needs a uniform, and...the kids have Spring break during the same week I need to travel to New York. Throw in the whipped cream and maraschino cherry on top - K.'s 7th birthday in the middle of it all - and you have all the makings of a Road Trip. Thank you Lord for the possibility to accomplish many tasks with one condensed time of travel and dedicated service. Thank you for every safe mile traveled, for the conversations of faith on the way with other Christian brothers and sisters. Thank you for the power of encouragement , as a cool drink of water for a thirsty soul, when Your Word is read and studied and shared.

These are some pictures from our day in NYC- oh I do love New York in the springtime. In NW OH we left behind a terrible snow dump (we only got 4 inches but some parts of Cleveland got 41 inches - augh!) But here in the sun, and 49 degrees, there are spring flowers a bloom.

On K's birthday we woke early and had a birthday waffle breakfast (Is she really 7, can it be true?) and started our day. We brought the kids in across the George Washington Bridge and down Riverside Dr. Every year we pass through New York at least once, sometimes three times, and decided long ago that The Big Apple is too much to bite all at once - it must be savored by many small, deliberate bites. Last years included Ellis Island, the Staten Island Ferry, the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building. This summer (August) will include the Intrepid Museum, The New York Library, Carnegie Hall and the American Museum of Natural History . This trip included Ground Zero, Central Park, Rockefeller Center, Saint Patrick's Cathedral and then a separate trip, boys and girls. At noon after sharing a kosher hot dog (kids) and sushi( me) - just love NY: you just can't find that level of variety in such a close vicinity in NW OH - the girls and I leave Dave and the boys as they go to The Top of the Rock at Rockefeller Center and we venture to the American Girl Place for a show and afternoon tea. The boys hit Central Park, a few specialty stores (Nintendo, NBA), a real live NY cab ride and then passed their afternoon with the American Museum of Natural History. (I'm rather jealous - the Museum is exquisite, did I really pass it up?) Me and the girls, and their American Girl dolls Molly and Emily get a hairstyle for their dolls, a new outfit for them, see a great show about The Circle of Friends and share tea and scones.

By the time the boys joined us again around 5:30, we had all had a terrific day, ready to go back and just swim.

Thank you Lord, for the chance to spend real time with the ones I love so dearly and share a safe time of learning and sharing. Thank you for my familiarity with this large city which has such depth of culture and need, enough that I can share what I know and still learn again and again. Thank you Lord, for Your presence, for Your provision, for Your beauty and splendor. Thank you that all these dirty, rumpled, stained clothing, this luggage disarrayed and worn, is able to be cleaned so readily, yet the memory of where we have traveled to will remain.