"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.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
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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