"All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us"
You Make Beautiful Things by Gungor
© Worshiptogether.com Songs
Last night I was reading a story about a woman who was miraculously healed of breast cancer. I admired her courage in sharing her story. Not only of her cancer and healing, but of her other life experiences in the years before, which were eerily similar to my own. She shared how God's grace and love had not only healed her deepest wounds and removed the associated shame, but also transformed her. Once afraid to trust her heart to anyone, including God, she is now happily married and ministers to other women about God's power to heal—body, soul and spirit.
As I began to reflect on my own life and all the things I've overcome (which I'm on the brink of sharing, not just there yet), the fact that I'm still here and not crazy (depending on who you ask) is all the evidence I need that God's grace is truly all over me.
And the fact that He could—and would—take someone like me and transform her into a vessel for His purpose is evidence of His abundant love. But that is what God does. He did it for Joseph, a Hebrew slave; for Moses, a murderer; for Rahab, a prostitute; for Ruth, an impoverished outsider; for David, a mere shepherd boy; for Peter, an overly-emotional fisherman; for Mary, a woman possessed by demons; for Paul, a persecutor of His church; and so very many more.
Out of the dust of the earth, God creates vessels of honor and beauty. It was so from the beginning and He is still doing it today.
"And the LORD God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul." - Genesis 2:7
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Laughter More Precious than Diamonds
Today is my mother's birthday, something for which I'm truly grateful.
I had been planning since the weekend what I could do to make it feel special for her. I haven't been able to coax her out of the house since Thanksgiving (although I felt like I came close a few times), so dinner at a nice restaurant was out, at least for now. After much thought, I decided I'd spend the evening with her watching one of her favorite movies, "Bye, Bye Birdie."
We actually did this over the weekend and she really enjoyed it (different movie). Well... you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men...
I picked up a card and gift for her on yesterday, came home wrapped it up and then went looking through my DVD collection for the movie—which I'm 99 percent sure I own (it's also one of my favorites)—but couldn't find it, anywhere. Undaunted, I stopped by Target after work thinking I could pick up another copy. They used to have a $5.00 DVD section filled with really old movies. Not anymore. (I did see a few potentially worthy substitutes, but decided to pass.) I was a bit disappointed. She really does like this movie, and more importantly, it makes her laugh.
Before her still mysterious health problems emerged, my mother laughed quite often, at least it seemed that way. She'd turn on her favorite comedy program, or ask one of us to pop in a funny DVD for her, just so she could enjoy a good laugh. Sometimes she'd ask for the great grandkids to make a visit so she could enjoy laughing with them (they enjoyed laughing with grandma, before the moody teen years hit!).
My mother liked to laugh; she said it was good medicine. She had Scripture to back it up (Proverbs 17:22). In fact, while I was growing up—especially during my moody teen years—and since I've been an adult, whenever I was going through a rough spell, she'd quote that Scripture to me often in addition to singing me songs about laughing or smiling. I must know two dozen or so such songs now (I may start using them on the moody teenagers).
Things have been a bit different the past couple of years and there's been a lot less laughter. I do understand. But I miss my mother's laugh—we all do. And when we do hear one, or see even the slightest hint of a smile, it seems more precious than diamonds.
I suppose that's all I really wanted to give my mother for her birthday: the gift of laughter. It's good medicine. With no DVD to rely on, I walked into my parents' house, smiled my biggest, cheesiest smile, and sang "Happy Birthday" to my mother as loud as I could. Then I just waited... She looked at me strangely for a moment, and then... she laughed!
Thank you, God!
I had been planning since the weekend what I could do to make it feel special for her. I haven't been able to coax her out of the house since Thanksgiving (although I felt like I came close a few times), so dinner at a nice restaurant was out, at least for now. After much thought, I decided I'd spend the evening with her watching one of her favorite movies, "Bye, Bye Birdie."
We actually did this over the weekend and she really enjoyed it (different movie). Well... you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men...
I picked up a card and gift for her on yesterday, came home wrapped it up and then went looking through my DVD collection for the movie—which I'm 99 percent sure I own (it's also one of my favorites)—but couldn't find it, anywhere. Undaunted, I stopped by Target after work thinking I could pick up another copy. They used to have a $5.00 DVD section filled with really old movies. Not anymore. (I did see a few potentially worthy substitutes, but decided to pass.) I was a bit disappointed. She really does like this movie, and more importantly, it makes her laugh.
Before her still mysterious health problems emerged, my mother laughed quite often, at least it seemed that way. She'd turn on her favorite comedy program, or ask one of us to pop in a funny DVD for her, just so she could enjoy a good laugh. Sometimes she'd ask for the great grandkids to make a visit so she could enjoy laughing with them (they enjoyed laughing with grandma, before the moody teen years hit!).
My mother liked to laugh; she said it was good medicine. She had Scripture to back it up (Proverbs 17:22). In fact, while I was growing up—especially during my moody teen years—and since I've been an adult, whenever I was going through a rough spell, she'd quote that Scripture to me often in addition to singing me songs about laughing or smiling. I must know two dozen or so such songs now (I may start using them on the moody teenagers).
Things have been a bit different the past couple of years and there's been a lot less laughter. I do understand. But I miss my mother's laugh—we all do. And when we do hear one, or see even the slightest hint of a smile, it seems more precious than diamonds.
I suppose that's all I really wanted to give my mother for her birthday: the gift of laughter. It's good medicine. With no DVD to rely on, I walked into my parents' house, smiled my biggest, cheesiest smile, and sang "Happy Birthday" to my mother as loud as I could. Then I just waited... She looked at me strangely for a moment, and then... she laughed!
Thank you, God!
Monday, March 26, 2012
For the Price of a Cup of Coffee
I'm starting to feel a bit like the weather girl, but it was crazy cold today. I've never been really tolerant of the cold, but since having my thyroid removed… let's just say I was extremely grateful for the milder than usual winter. And the warm spell that we'd been having the past couple of weeks truly had me spoiled.
While I've grown accustomed to the subzero temp in my office (or have at least reached a point of acceptance), the mini-breaks out of doors to warm up—as well as clear my head—were becoming a welcomed escape. But the outdoors offered no such escape today. After my morning meeting, I practically ran out to the courtyard only to discover how very deceptive sunlight can be. For about three minutes, I sat directly in the sunlight trying to soak up a little bit of warmth before deciding it just was not meant to be, so I walked the extra few feet to the campus Starbucks for something hot.
Turns out it was warm inside the conference center. Get something hot; sprint back to my office. That was the plan. But with about 20 minutes to spare (sort of) until my next meeting, why not enjoy the warmth and clear my head for my next meeting. So I settled back into one of the lounge chairs with my hot coffee and as the chill slowly started to leave my body, I suddenly heard the faint sound of music. But not your typical office building music (aka "elevator music"): old school slow jams from the 70s. What a perfect way to refresh before a meeting!
Having older brothers and an older sister who were teenagers when I was born, I was exposed to all sorts of music growing up. As PKs (preacher's kids), there was of course Gospel. But my oldest brother and older sister were also definitely Motown fans and appreciated other 60s music: Beatles, The Byrds, Joplin, The Mamas & The Papas. My other brother: definitely Motown, Beatles and 70s R&B, with a few other sounds thrown in (Hendrix's "Purple Haze" is forever burned into my brain—sorry big brother, I had to go there!).
My own musical tastes pretty much run the gamut, which I've discovered over the years either surprises, or in some instances offends. I make no apologies. My tastes change as I change, but I appreciate anything that inspires me or speaks to my heart, makes me want to dance or even makes me laugh (like Train's "Soul Sister"—how can anyone not like a song featuring a ukelele?).
So, it was definitely a mood lifter to sip my coffee to a few old school slow jams, especially when I heard this:
"Your eyes, are dark as the night.
Your skin is tender and golden brown .
Long bronze fingers hold me oh, so tight .
So rich in beauty, you deserve a crown.
That's why you are
My ebony princess."*
I don't think I've heard this song in about 20 years, but I used to love it. I longed for some guy to sing it to me. Such poetry would impress even Solomon, the master of verse. This song was also among one of my brother's favorites back in the day. And picturing him serenading my now sister-in-law—afro, platform shoes and all—well... I nearly spit out my coffee laughing (I am so going to owe him my second born after this post)!
A fond memory, laughter and warmth for the price of a cup of coffee.
* My Ebony Princess performed by Jimmy Briscoe & the Little Beavers (©1974-75?)
While I've grown accustomed to the subzero temp in my office (or have at least reached a point of acceptance), the mini-breaks out of doors to warm up—as well as clear my head—were becoming a welcomed escape. But the outdoors offered no such escape today. After my morning meeting, I practically ran out to the courtyard only to discover how very deceptive sunlight can be. For about three minutes, I sat directly in the sunlight trying to soak up a little bit of warmth before deciding it just was not meant to be, so I walked the extra few feet to the campus Starbucks for something hot.
Turns out it was warm inside the conference center. Get something hot; sprint back to my office. That was the plan. But with about 20 minutes to spare (sort of) until my next meeting, why not enjoy the warmth and clear my head for my next meeting. So I settled back into one of the lounge chairs with my hot coffee and as the chill slowly started to leave my body, I suddenly heard the faint sound of music. But not your typical office building music (aka "elevator music"): old school slow jams from the 70s. What a perfect way to refresh before a meeting!
Having older brothers and an older sister who were teenagers when I was born, I was exposed to all sorts of music growing up. As PKs (preacher's kids), there was of course Gospel. But my oldest brother and older sister were also definitely Motown fans and appreciated other 60s music: Beatles, The Byrds, Joplin, The Mamas & The Papas. My other brother: definitely Motown, Beatles and 70s R&B, with a few other sounds thrown in (Hendrix's "Purple Haze" is forever burned into my brain—sorry big brother, I had to go there!).
My own musical tastes pretty much run the gamut, which I've discovered over the years either surprises, or in some instances offends. I make no apologies. My tastes change as I change, but I appreciate anything that inspires me or speaks to my heart, makes me want to dance or even makes me laugh (like Train's "Soul Sister"—how can anyone not like a song featuring a ukelele?).
So, it was definitely a mood lifter to sip my coffee to a few old school slow jams, especially when I heard this:
"Your eyes, are dark as the night.
Your skin is tender and golden brown .
Long bronze fingers hold me oh, so tight .
So rich in beauty, you deserve a crown.
That's why you are
My ebony princess."*
I don't think I've heard this song in about 20 years, but I used to love it. I longed for some guy to sing it to me. Such poetry would impress even Solomon, the master of verse. This song was also among one of my brother's favorites back in the day. And picturing him serenading my now sister-in-law—afro, platform shoes and all—well... I nearly spit out my coffee laughing (I am so going to owe him my second born after this post)!
A fond memory, laughter and warmth for the price of a cup of coffee.
* My Ebony Princess performed by Jimmy Briscoe & the Little Beavers (©1974-75?)
Friday, March 23, 2012
From Bread to Smart Phones
I spent the evening after work today with my co-workers. We decided to get together after several seemingly long stressful weeks and just unwind—totally my boss's idea—them with beers, me with ginger ale. (I don't say this boasting as I'm not opposed to an occasional glass of wine. But I'm still adjusting to my thyroid hormone replacement medicine, so I've been a teetotaler for a bit.)
It was a nice evening for it too. We headed to the nearby golf course that happens to have a restaurant/bar and sat outside at tables on the balcony overlooking the green. It was a pleasant evening filled with conversations as diverse as the proper way to bake bread to corruption in government to the best smart phone apps. (I was particularly interested in this last subject since I purchased my first smart phone in January that does all these really cool things, only half of which I've figured out.)
I've worked a number of places over the years, and I have to say that at a time where I'm looking for balance in life, I'm pretty fortunate to find myself working with such a great group of people. No egos in the bunch.
We're all pretty talented at what we do and extremely committed to it. More often than not when we're frustrated at work, it's not with each other, but with a client or client manager asking for some nonsensical page/site update, or the jacked-up server network and content management system that we use to maintain our Web site. But sometimes we can get so busy during the course of a day or week troubleshooting problems, debating with clients and trying to juggle non-stop project requests, it can feel like we barely have to time to say "hello" to each other, let alone just stop and talk.
My boss is good about sensing this; hence his periodic suggestions to just go hang out. (Once, we took a mid-day break to Starbucks, his treat!)
Every now and again, it's good to get out of the office and away from our computers and just share stories about other things in our lives besides jacked-up clients and nonsensical network servers. After all, despite the fact that we spend most of our waking hours at work, there is more to our lives than that.
It was a nice evening for it too. We headed to the nearby golf course that happens to have a restaurant/bar and sat outside at tables on the balcony overlooking the green. It was a pleasant evening filled with conversations as diverse as the proper way to bake bread to corruption in government to the best smart phone apps. (I was particularly interested in this last subject since I purchased my first smart phone in January that does all these really cool things, only half of which I've figured out.)
I've worked a number of places over the years, and I have to say that at a time where I'm looking for balance in life, I'm pretty fortunate to find myself working with such a great group of people. No egos in the bunch.
We're all pretty talented at what we do and extremely committed to it. More often than not when we're frustrated at work, it's not with each other, but with a client or client manager asking for some nonsensical page/site update, or the jacked-up server network and content management system that we use to maintain our Web site. But sometimes we can get so busy during the course of a day or week troubleshooting problems, debating with clients and trying to juggle non-stop project requests, it can feel like we barely have to time to say "hello" to each other, let alone just stop and talk.
My boss is good about sensing this; hence his periodic suggestions to just go hang out. (Once, we took a mid-day break to Starbucks, his treat!)
Every now and again, it's good to get out of the office and away from our computers and just share stories about other things in our lives besides jacked-up clients and nonsensical network servers. After all, despite the fact that we spend most of our waking hours at work, there is more to our lives than that.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Living Freely and Lightly
Earlier this year, I decided that each night I would focus on one thing I'm grateful for as a way to offset my recent proclivity to focus on my problems rather than my blessings (it's uncanny how dealing with a personal illness or that of a loved one can become so all consuming you start to overlook the good stuff).
Well, one good thing usually leads to one more thing then one more thing, and soon, many more things. But that's kind of the point. Tonight I'm grateful for the Bible on the Internet. I've already shared how it helped me during my surgery last year (I was able to access Psalm 91 on my sister's smart phone), but it has also transformed my regular study time.
At my fingertips, I have access to hundreds of different versions of the Bible: the traditional King James, the New King James, the New International, the American Standard, the Amplified (which offers sort of an expanded translation of the English from the original Hebrew and Greek), and so on. If I get stuck on a passage, I can quickly look it up in another version that may offer a translation that's easier for me to understand. Or if a scripture comes to mind but I can't recall exactly where to find it, a simple word search will take me right to it.
And some versions of the Bible on the Internet have sound, so now I know how to pronounce names like Philemon, Habbukuk and Abihu.
I still tend to study primarily from the King James, but with such easy access to so many others I'm developing some new favorites. The Message is fast becoming one of them, if for no other reason than how it translates one of my favorite scriptures, Matthew 11:28-30:
"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."
Awesome!
Live freely and lightly. Peace!
Well, one good thing usually leads to one more thing then one more thing, and soon, many more things. But that's kind of the point. Tonight I'm grateful for the Bible on the Internet. I've already shared how it helped me during my surgery last year (I was able to access Psalm 91 on my sister's smart phone), but it has also transformed my regular study time.
At my fingertips, I have access to hundreds of different versions of the Bible: the traditional King James, the New King James, the New International, the American Standard, the Amplified (which offers sort of an expanded translation of the English from the original Hebrew and Greek), and so on. If I get stuck on a passage, I can quickly look it up in another version that may offer a translation that's easier for me to understand. Or if a scripture comes to mind but I can't recall exactly where to find it, a simple word search will take me right to it.
And some versions of the Bible on the Internet have sound, so now I know how to pronounce names like Philemon, Habbukuk and Abihu.
I still tend to study primarily from the King James, but with such easy access to so many others I'm developing some new favorites. The Message is fast becoming one of them, if for no other reason than how it translates one of my favorite scriptures, Matthew 11:28-30:
"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."
Awesome!
Live freely and lightly. Peace!
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Love Bears All Things—Story of the Wooden Bowl
I came across the following story on the Internet about a year ago and passed it on to my siblings. As we struggled with how best to care for my parents, especially my father, it helped remind me that what my parents most needed was our love, patience and understanding.
Now, whenever I find myself getting a bit frustrated or impatient with my parents—say at 6:30 am when my father calls because he's run out of orange soda and wants to know if I could pick up some (he thinks it has medicinal qualities so it's really quite an urgent matter to him)—this story always comes to mind. It's lesson is hard to forget.
The Wooden Bowl
A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year-old grandson. The old man’s hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered.
The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather’s shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.
The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. ‘We must do something about father,’ said the son. ‘I’ve had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor.’
So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner. Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl.
When the family glanced in Grandfather’s direction, sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food.
The four-year-old watched it all in silence.
One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor.
He asked the child sweetly, ‘What are you making?’ Just as sweetly, the boy responded, ‘Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up.’ The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.
The words so struck the parents that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done.
That evening the husband took Grandfather’s hand and gently led him back to the family table.
For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.
(Discovered on Internet; Not certain of original author)
Now, whenever I find myself getting a bit frustrated or impatient with my parents—say at 6:30 am when my father calls because he's run out of orange soda and wants to know if I could pick up some (he thinks it has medicinal qualities so it's really quite an urgent matter to him)—this story always comes to mind. It's lesson is hard to forget.
The Wooden BowlA frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year-old grandson. The old man’s hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered.
The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather’s shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.
The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. ‘We must do something about father,’ said the son. ‘I’ve had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor.’
So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner. Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl.
When the family glanced in Grandfather’s direction, sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food.
The four-year-old watched it all in silence.
One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor.
He asked the child sweetly, ‘What are you making?’ Just as sweetly, the boy responded, ‘Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up.’ The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.
The words so struck the parents that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done.
That evening the husband took Grandfather’s hand and gently led him back to the family table.
For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.
(Discovered on Internet; Not certain of original author)
Friday, March 16, 2012
Take A Joy Break
"For the joy of the LORD is your strength."
- Nehemiah 8:10
After having such a wonderful experience yesterday, today, I was feeling rather blah, just kind of joyless. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was that I overslept, or that I hadn't much sleep the past two nights: uncooperative sinuses kept me up last night. Maybe it was the cloudy day. Maybe it's because the past few days have been a bit stressful, both personally and at work.
Whatever the cause, I don't like feeling joyless, walking around in a funk, all cranky and tired. It isn't who I am. I want to overflow with joy. God wants me to overflow with joy. (My mood did lift a little when on my way home I saw a rainbow—to me they're like pictoric "love notes" from God."
Lord, I need an escape from the blahs!
During my quiet time tonight, I looked up "joy" in the Bible and found 242 references (in the NIV). I started reading through them, quickly at first, then very slowly. I was on the 200th verse, when I noticed I felt about 100 times better. That was all I needed—to just take a joy break.
Do you need a joy break? Here's a sampling to get you started.
"Splendor and majesty are before him; strength and joy are in his dwelling place." - 1 Chronicles 16:27
"Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days." - Psalm 90:14
"The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him." - Psalm 28:7
"With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation." - Isaiah 12:3
"… to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair." - Isaiah 61:3
"You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands." - Isaiah 55:12
"But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people." - Luke 2:10
"Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete." - John 16:24
"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
"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law." - Galatians 5:22
"Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy..." - 1 Peter 1:8
- Nehemiah 8:10
After having such a wonderful experience yesterday, today, I was feeling rather blah, just kind of joyless. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was that I overslept, or that I hadn't much sleep the past two nights: uncooperative sinuses kept me up last night. Maybe it was the cloudy day. Maybe it's because the past few days have been a bit stressful, both personally and at work.
Whatever the cause, I don't like feeling joyless, walking around in a funk, all cranky and tired. It isn't who I am. I want to overflow with joy. God wants me to overflow with joy. (My mood did lift a little when on my way home I saw a rainbow—to me they're like pictoric "love notes" from God."
Lord, I need an escape from the blahs!
During my quiet time tonight, I looked up "joy" in the Bible and found 242 references (in the NIV). I started reading through them, quickly at first, then very slowly. I was on the 200th verse, when I noticed I felt about 100 times better. That was all I needed—to just take a joy break.
Do you need a joy break? Here's a sampling to get you started.
"Splendor and majesty are before him; strength and joy are in his dwelling place." - 1 Chronicles 16:27
"Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days." - Psalm 90:14
"The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him." - Psalm 28:7
"With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation." - Isaiah 12:3
"… to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair." - Isaiah 61:3
"You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands." - Isaiah 55:12
"But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people." - Luke 2:10
"Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete." - John 16:24
"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
"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law." - Galatians 5:22
"Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy..." - 1 Peter 1:8
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Remembering Eden
"Here comes the sun,
Here comes the sun, and I say
It's all right."
Here Comes the Sun by George Harrison ©1969
Oh. My. Gosh. Today was such a wonderfully beautiful day. My friend/co-worker said the temperature was expected to reach into the mid 80s.
After eating my lunch today, I decided to escape my subzero temperature office and venture outside for a mini-break. As soon as I stepped out and felt the warmth of the sun, I felt so energized, so... there are no words. I thought I might not go back in. Sitting out on the bench in front of the Administration building surrounded by Dogwood trees and grass, feeling the sun on my face, I seriously considered informing my boss that I would be working out of doors until winter—"I'll be in the courtyard with my laptop and cell phone if anyone needs me, thankyouverymuch."
It's a shame anyone has to work indoors. I don't think we were created for it.
Just think about it. Among all the things in the garden of Eden that God created, there's no mention of a four-walled dwelling for Adam and Eve. There's no mention even of Adam building a tent to live in until after he and Eve were cast out of the garden.
But surely they must have needed something to protect them from the elements, not to mention the lions, tigers and dinosaurs? According to Genesis (and Isaiah), the elements were all created to work for Adam and Eve, not against them. And there was no need to fear the animals either (well, except for that troublesome snake); they were all herbivores and quite friendly with Adam, like pets. He did after all name them.
I really believe that God fully intended for us to be outdoor creatures, working, playing and living continually among nature. Enjoying the warmth of the sun on our skin. Constantly surrounded by the fragrant smell of flowers and trees. Sleeping under the stars. Bathing in rivers and lakes. Relaxing to the music of robins, larks, geese and swallows.
I stayed outside for as long as I could, but work beckoned. So it was back to my subzero temp office with its hard desk, four walls, and fluorescent lighting. The weekend will be here soon enough.
Here comes the sun, and I say
It's all right."
Here Comes the Sun by George Harrison ©1969
Oh. My. Gosh. Today was such a wonderfully beautiful day. My friend/co-worker said the temperature was expected to reach into the mid 80s.
After eating my lunch today, I decided to escape my subzero temperature office and venture outside for a mini-break. As soon as I stepped out and felt the warmth of the sun, I felt so energized, so... there are no words. I thought I might not go back in. Sitting out on the bench in front of the Administration building surrounded by Dogwood trees and grass, feeling the sun on my face, I seriously considered informing my boss that I would be working out of doors until winter—"I'll be in the courtyard with my laptop and cell phone if anyone needs me, thankyouverymuch."
It's a shame anyone has to work indoors. I don't think we were created for it.
Just think about it. Among all the things in the garden of Eden that God created, there's no mention of a four-walled dwelling for Adam and Eve. There's no mention even of Adam building a tent to live in until after he and Eve were cast out of the garden.
But surely they must have needed something to protect them from the elements, not to mention the lions, tigers and dinosaurs? According to Genesis (and Isaiah), the elements were all created to work for Adam and Eve, not against them. And there was no need to fear the animals either (well, except for that troublesome snake); they were all herbivores and quite friendly with Adam, like pets. He did after all name them.
I really believe that God fully intended for us to be outdoor creatures, working, playing and living continually among nature. Enjoying the warmth of the sun on our skin. Constantly surrounded by the fragrant smell of flowers and trees. Sleeping under the stars. Bathing in rivers and lakes. Relaxing to the music of robins, larks, geese and swallows.
I stayed outside for as long as I could, but work beckoned. So it was back to my subzero temp office with its hard desk, four walls, and fluorescent lighting. The weekend will be here soon enough.
And the Lessons Continue
"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God."
- Philippians 4:6 (NIV)
March must be the month of learning for me. Well, every month, every day in fact, is an opportunity for me to learn something. Tonight I learned that walking by faith is a minute-by-minute choice. And there are some minutes when things can get a bit hairy.
Without revealing too much detail about my sisters who read (or I at least hope read) my blog, I'll share the basics of lesson-filled evening. While I was meditating, I received a phone call from my older sister asking if I had heard from the younger one. I hadn't, which isn't that unusual—we're over 21; we're over 31 even (and I'll stop there)—so we don't feel the need to check in with each other everyday. Well, my older sister was extremely concerned as several phone calls to the younger one had gone unanswered and unreturned, and it was getting pretty late.
My first instinct… I'm sure she's okay. She's either turned her phone off, or the battery has run down, or she's not somewhere she can immediately answer it. There are any number of reasonable explanations. Right? Absolutely! I offer to call her house phone to double check. She doesn't answer. Now, here's where my faith test began.
I decide to just drive by her house—we practically live next door. I do this partly because I'm a bit concerned and partly because I want to ease my older sister's fears by personally confirming the younger one is safe. She isn't home. Not a huge deal, yet. It is very late, but she is over 21.
Enter the parents, who insisted that my younger sister had left their house very early evening and was headed straight home. My older sister is pretty frantic; I can feel my heart in my throat. One minute I'm certain she's just hanging out (it was a nice evening for it), the next… "Let not your heart be troubled. Let not your heart be troubled. Let not your heart…"
What to do? What. To. Do. Police? They need 24 hours. Hospitals? Okay, but which ones. From woman of faith to overprotective and anxious big sister mode in 60 seconds? "Let not your heart… Let not your heart… Let not…." I leave her a note: Call when you get in.
Adding fuel to my anxiety were three back-to-back phone calls I received around 7ish on my home phone (which almost no one calls except telemarketers, mis-dialers and people I generally don't want to talk to anyway). With Caller ID broken and voice mail full, I have no idea who the calls came from and my mind begins to go places it really shouldn't. And why didn't I just answer the phone, you ask. Because I was (a) in the middle of something and (b) see what's written in the parenthesis above.
My older sister calls back; my parents call, multiple times. Have I tracked her down yet? "Not yet," trying to stay calm. "Let not your heart…" "Let not…" Could you go over there? "Okay." No need to mention I've already done this. "I'm sure she's okay. Her angel is on guard."
To my sister's house I go, again. Before I can even knock on the door, she opens it just a bit exasperated. (No, she isn't psychic—the motion sensor called me out.) Seems she did get all the phone calls from my sister, from me and even from my parents. I am immensely happy and relieved to see her, albeit deeply embarrassed. I give her a hug and apologize profusely. I maybe even promised her dinner for showing up at her front door unannounced in the middle of the night. We talk for a bit; I head home.
"Let not your heart be troubled." "Let not your heart be troubled.'' "Let not…" The learning continues. So does the transformation—minute by minute by minute by minute.
I really should get a new house phone with a functioning Caller ID.
- Philippians 4:6 (NIV)
March must be the month of learning for me. Well, every month, every day in fact, is an opportunity for me to learn something. Tonight I learned that walking by faith is a minute-by-minute choice. And there are some minutes when things can get a bit hairy.
Without revealing too much detail about my sisters who read (or I at least hope read) my blog, I'll share the basics of lesson-filled evening. While I was meditating, I received a phone call from my older sister asking if I had heard from the younger one. I hadn't, which isn't that unusual—we're over 21; we're over 31 even (and I'll stop there)—so we don't feel the need to check in with each other everyday. Well, my older sister was extremely concerned as several phone calls to the younger one had gone unanswered and unreturned, and it was getting pretty late.
My first instinct… I'm sure she's okay. She's either turned her phone off, or the battery has run down, or she's not somewhere she can immediately answer it. There are any number of reasonable explanations. Right? Absolutely! I offer to call her house phone to double check. She doesn't answer. Now, here's where my faith test began.
I decide to just drive by her house—we practically live next door. I do this partly because I'm a bit concerned and partly because I want to ease my older sister's fears by personally confirming the younger one is safe. She isn't home. Not a huge deal, yet. It is very late, but she is over 21.
Enter the parents, who insisted that my younger sister had left their house very early evening and was headed straight home. My older sister is pretty frantic; I can feel my heart in my throat. One minute I'm certain she's just hanging out (it was a nice evening for it), the next… "Let not your heart be troubled. Let not your heart be troubled. Let not your heart…"
What to do? What. To. Do. Police? They need 24 hours. Hospitals? Okay, but which ones. From woman of faith to overprotective and anxious big sister mode in 60 seconds? "Let not your heart… Let not your heart… Let not…." I leave her a note: Call when you get in.
Adding fuel to my anxiety were three back-to-back phone calls I received around 7ish on my home phone (which almost no one calls except telemarketers, mis-dialers and people I generally don't want to talk to anyway). With Caller ID broken and voice mail full, I have no idea who the calls came from and my mind begins to go places it really shouldn't. And why didn't I just answer the phone, you ask. Because I was (a) in the middle of something and (b) see what's written in the parenthesis above.
My older sister calls back; my parents call, multiple times. Have I tracked her down yet? "Not yet," trying to stay calm. "Let not your heart…" "Let not…" Could you go over there? "Okay." No need to mention I've already done this. "I'm sure she's okay. Her angel is on guard."
To my sister's house I go, again. Before I can even knock on the door, she opens it just a bit exasperated. (No, she isn't psychic—the motion sensor called me out.) Seems she did get all the phone calls from my sister, from me and even from my parents. I am immensely happy and relieved to see her, albeit deeply embarrassed. I give her a hug and apologize profusely. I maybe even promised her dinner for showing up at her front door unannounced in the middle of the night. We talk for a bit; I head home.
"Let not your heart be troubled." "Let not your heart be troubled.'' "Let not…" The learning continues. So does the transformation—minute by minute by minute by minute.
I really should get a new house phone with a functioning Caller ID.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
More Things I'm Learning
Sometimes pain is just evidence that the body is healing itself, not an indication of something gone terribly wrong.
Intellectual reason is both an asset and a liability.
People can do and say all manner of unkind things, but my reaction is my choice.
Trusting solely on my senses is unwise as things are seldom as they appear.
It's very easy to complain about what others aren't doing to fix a problem, but stepping up and doing something about it yourself takes daring.
It's okay to believe in the impossible—it's what separates ordinary people from those who achieve greatness.
Contentment is good, but never settle for status quo.
Everyone was created for a unique purpose. You'll miss yours trying to be like someone else.
All of God's promises are "yes" and "amen," but sometimes I need to wait while He aligns all the details.
My gifts and talents are connected to my destiny—for those He calls, He has also equipped.
Facts are always changing. Truth never does.
Intellectual reason is both an asset and a liability.
People can do and say all manner of unkind things, but my reaction is my choice.
Trusting solely on my senses is unwise as things are seldom as they appear.
It's very easy to complain about what others aren't doing to fix a problem, but stepping up and doing something about it yourself takes daring.
It's okay to believe in the impossible—it's what separates ordinary people from those who achieve greatness.
Contentment is good, but never settle for status quo.
Everyone was created for a unique purpose. You'll miss yours trying to be like someone else.
All of God's promises are "yes" and "amen," but sometimes I need to wait while He aligns all the details.
My gifts and talents are connected to my destiny—for those He calls, He has also equipped.
Facts are always changing. Truth never does.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
I'm Learning
I'm learning that fearful thoughts will come, but I don't have to dwell on them. Anxieties and worries will arise, but I don't have to give heed to them. And my emotions will sometimes be intense, but they don't have to rule my behavior.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
The Good Shepherd
Psalm 23
The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever. (NIV)
This was one of the first Scriptures I had to memorize as a child, but it's only recently that I've even come to understand it and the fullness of what it promises. During even my darkest moments when the cares of the world—the heartbreaks, disappointments, anxiety about the future—threaten to overtake me, Jesus promises me peace, protection, provision, but above all His goodness and love.
The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever. (NIV)
This was one of the first Scriptures I had to memorize as a child, but it's only recently that I've even come to understand it and the fullness of what it promises. During even my darkest moments when the cares of the world—the heartbreaks, disappointments, anxiety about the future—threaten to overtake me, Jesus promises me peace, protection, provision, but above all His goodness and love.
Monday, March 5, 2012
The Power of Perfect Love
I look forward to the daily devotionals that arrive in my e-mail each morning. They're like breakfast for the spirit, providing me with the nourishment I need to get ready for the day. I found today's devotional particularly appropriate and helpful: There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear… (1 John 4:18)
Did you know that babies are born with only two fears? They have a fear of falling and a fear of loud noises. Yet by the time most of us reach adulthood, we've developed more than 7,000 different fears: fear of disease, fear of death, fear of rejection, fear of heights, fear of flying, fear of failure, fear of success, fear of snakes, fear of people. The list goes on and on. Some rational (at least that's what I tell myself) and some irrational, like my fear of mice. The mere sight of one (dead or alive) will cause me to become completely unhinged, despite the fact that I must be what?…. about 100 times its size.
Mickey and his cohorts aside, I've wrestled with many fears over the past couple of years. I faced what seemed like my biggest last spring when I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. Initially, it was only the surgery I feared, and not so much the surgery itself as the being put to sleep part. Having prayerfully overcome that (I'll share in another post about the nun God sent to minister to me that day), another fear washed over me altogether a week later when I received the pathologist report. Cancer?! I immediately fell to my knees.
My surgeon recommended a second surgery to remove the entire thyroid, to be followed six to eight weeks later by radiation therapy. The problem was the second surgery had to be repeated within 14 days of the first, before the scar tissue began to heal, or I'd have to wait two months.
For the next three days, all sorts of fear-filled thoughts came, and Jesus quieted each one by reminding me how much He loves me. Alone at night as I'd cry myself to sleep, I could hear His voice reassuring me that all would be okay. When anxieties arose throughout day, I'd suddenly sense His peace. And at my most anxious, just moments before the second surgery, I found courage in His Word: "For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways." (Psalm 91:11 NIV) I must have read the 91st Psalm hundreds of times and never even noticed that passage until then.
Within three hours, the surgery was over. The next day, I went home. A week later, I returned to work. I was a bit weak and barely able to speak (most likely a good thing), but all was, and is, well.
Can't say that I don't still get afraid, worried or anxious. My faith isn't yet perfect, but it doesn't have to be. I just need to be willing to lean into Jesus during my anxious moments—His perfect, unconditional, unceasing love is strong enough to help me not only face my fears but also overcome them.
The next mouse that scurries across my living room had better watch out!
Did you know that babies are born with only two fears? They have a fear of falling and a fear of loud noises. Yet by the time most of us reach adulthood, we've developed more than 7,000 different fears: fear of disease, fear of death, fear of rejection, fear of heights, fear of flying, fear of failure, fear of success, fear of snakes, fear of people. The list goes on and on. Some rational (at least that's what I tell myself) and some irrational, like my fear of mice. The mere sight of one (dead or alive) will cause me to become completely unhinged, despite the fact that I must be what?…. about 100 times its size.
Mickey and his cohorts aside, I've wrestled with many fears over the past couple of years. I faced what seemed like my biggest last spring when I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. Initially, it was only the surgery I feared, and not so much the surgery itself as the being put to sleep part. Having prayerfully overcome that (I'll share in another post about the nun God sent to minister to me that day), another fear washed over me altogether a week later when I received the pathologist report. Cancer?! I immediately fell to my knees.
My surgeon recommended a second surgery to remove the entire thyroid, to be followed six to eight weeks later by radiation therapy. The problem was the second surgery had to be repeated within 14 days of the first, before the scar tissue began to heal, or I'd have to wait two months.
For the next three days, all sorts of fear-filled thoughts came, and Jesus quieted each one by reminding me how much He loves me. Alone at night as I'd cry myself to sleep, I could hear His voice reassuring me that all would be okay. When anxieties arose throughout day, I'd suddenly sense His peace. And at my most anxious, just moments before the second surgery, I found courage in His Word: "For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways." (Psalm 91:11 NIV) I must have read the 91st Psalm hundreds of times and never even noticed that passage until then.
Within three hours, the surgery was over. The next day, I went home. A week later, I returned to work. I was a bit weak and barely able to speak (most likely a good thing), but all was, and is, well.
Can't say that I don't still get afraid, worried or anxious. My faith isn't yet perfect, but it doesn't have to be. I just need to be willing to lean into Jesus during my anxious moments—His perfect, unconditional, unceasing love is strong enough to help me not only face my fears but also overcome them.
The next mouse that scurries across my living room had better watch out!
Friday, March 2, 2012
A Meditation.
Lord, I am grateful today for your presence that is with me, 24 hours a days, seven days a week.
No matter what I'm going through, no matter how I feel, there is no pretense with you as you know all my thoughts.
You are ever before me, with me, and in me. Transforming me, loving me, teaching me, healing me, restoring me. Forever faithful. Full of grace and truth.
This is my God. This is my Jesus. Savior. Redeemer. Lover, Friend. Provider. Comforter. Healer. My heart rejoices in your presence and all the worries of my day melt away.
No matter what I'm going through, no matter how I feel, there is no pretense with you as you know all my thoughts.
You are ever before me, with me, and in me. Transforming me, loving me, teaching me, healing me, restoring me. Forever faithful. Full of grace and truth.
This is my God. This is my Jesus. Savior. Redeemer. Lover, Friend. Provider. Comforter. Healer. My heart rejoices in your presence and all the worries of my day melt away.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Taking A Walk Down Memory Lane on an Unexpected Spring Day
"I think I'll go for a walk outside now.
The summer sun's calling my name.
Can you hear me now? I just can't stay inside all day,
Got to get out, get me some of those rays…"
Sunshine Day from the Brady Bunch
I like this song. It's so fun, so catchy. Makes me want to put on a knit jumpsuit with flared legs and just start dancing. I've done crazier things!
Today was an absolutely beautiful, gorgeous spring day (although technically it's still winter). The temperature nearly hit 70 degrees, so I did just what the song suggests: took a walk outside.
Hadn't planned it, but around 3 p.m., I decided to take a much-needed break from work and go for a Starbucks iced coffee. After taking the short walk across the parking lot only to discover that the campus Starbucks was closed, I thought it's the perfect day for a walk across campus to the food court for a milkshake or ice cream or something.
It was nice to take a walk across campus. Seeing all the students walking, biking and skateboarding their way to classes or to meet friends—many dressed in shorts, although I'm not sure it's time for that yet (it is still winter)—it reminded me of my own college experience many, many, many (okay not that many) years ago.
I was pretty reticent at first about the office move back to campus. The location we were in seemed perfect, conveniently located as it was across the street from a shopping mall! But now that we're here, I like it. I like the energy of campus life, of being surrounded by people excited about exploring new things and exchanging ideas. I have many fond memories of college and the lessons learned, both in and outside of the classroom.
The long nights spent in my dorm's study hall or the library cramming for exams or typing a 500-page paper. Analyzing works by social scientists, philosophers and poets like Pavlov, de Tocqueville, Byron, Bronté, W.E.B Dubois, Toni Morrison. Classical music and coffee—I developed a taste for both in college that still persists.
Then there was basketball, Soul Night, learning the Carlton, and the "crispy critter" (don't ask). Plus those many spring days hanging out on the quad studying, while also trying to capture the attention of some cute guy like the one in my Contemporary Drama class, because even then I could multi-task. I never did catch his attention even after my riveting performance as an orphaned biracial woman grieving the loss of the biological father who'd abandoned/disowned her. (Seriously, it was Oscar-worthy. Even my professor was moved to tears and our group earned an A+. Oh well... his loss.)
But what are my best memories of college? My many, many friends. What a diverse group they were. I could never have them all in one room together. Fights would break out. (I know this because I tried... once.) And yet, aside from helping me to develop my diplomacy skills, they taught me acceptance, forgiveness, to value and appreciate differences, and to have fun.
These are lessons I am still learning.
"Wonderful things, no matter how fleeting, are never a waste." (Author unknown, from the Internet)
The summer sun's calling my name.
Can you hear me now? I just can't stay inside all day,
Got to get out, get me some of those rays…"
Sunshine Day from the Brady Bunch
I like this song. It's so fun, so catchy. Makes me want to put on a knit jumpsuit with flared legs and just start dancing. I've done crazier things!
Today was an absolutely beautiful, gorgeous spring day (although technically it's still winter). The temperature nearly hit 70 degrees, so I did just what the song suggests: took a walk outside.
Hadn't planned it, but around 3 p.m., I decided to take a much-needed break from work and go for a Starbucks iced coffee. After taking the short walk across the parking lot only to discover that the campus Starbucks was closed, I thought it's the perfect day for a walk across campus to the food court for a milkshake or ice cream or something.
It was nice to take a walk across campus. Seeing all the students walking, biking and skateboarding their way to classes or to meet friends—many dressed in shorts, although I'm not sure it's time for that yet (it is still winter)—it reminded me of my own college experience many, many, many (okay not that many) years ago.
I was pretty reticent at first about the office move back to campus. The location we were in seemed perfect, conveniently located as it was across the street from a shopping mall! But now that we're here, I like it. I like the energy of campus life, of being surrounded by people excited about exploring new things and exchanging ideas. I have many fond memories of college and the lessons learned, both in and outside of the classroom.
The long nights spent in my dorm's study hall or the library cramming for exams or typing a 500-page paper. Analyzing works by social scientists, philosophers and poets like Pavlov, de Tocqueville, Byron, Bronté, W.E.B Dubois, Toni Morrison. Classical music and coffee—I developed a taste for both in college that still persists.
Then there was basketball, Soul Night, learning the Carlton, and the "crispy critter" (don't ask). Plus those many spring days hanging out on the quad studying, while also trying to capture the attention of some cute guy like the one in my Contemporary Drama class, because even then I could multi-task. I never did catch his attention even after my riveting performance as an orphaned biracial woman grieving the loss of the biological father who'd abandoned/disowned her. (Seriously, it was Oscar-worthy. Even my professor was moved to tears and our group earned an A+. Oh well... his loss.)
But what are my best memories of college? My many, many friends. What a diverse group they were. I could never have them all in one room together. Fights would break out. (I know this because I tried... once.) And yet, aside from helping me to develop my diplomacy skills, they taught me acceptance, forgiveness, to value and appreciate differences, and to have fun.
These are lessons I am still learning.
"Wonderful things, no matter how fleeting, are never a waste." (Author unknown, from the Internet)
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