How funny to find your own blog and reread your words and find healing and hope in them. It has been such a long 3 year hiatus. After reading my words, I thought "I should so do this again". So here I am again. Perhaps you missed me? Perhaps I write only for myself.

     I will catch you up to date in as few words as possible. All my boys are out in South Dakota now! My mom is moved into the same city as well. My husband's best friend from Indiana has moved his family to SD. My husband and I went thru many difficulties in our marriage but along the journey he accepted Christ as his personal Savior and was baptized last year. Wowzers! Is life perfect? No! Actually we have had a new crop of difficulties within our family (Rhonda called them "growing pains") and new amazing miracles along the way including a sweet granddaughter. Along the journey, I continue to say that God is good, He is faithful, and I ask Him to continue to save me from the doubts that creep in.

     That top photo is from my best day of a vacation to Philadelphia. just a month ago. Last year I got to meet a second cousin I didn't even know I had. We kept up a steady stream of emails and occasional phone conversations. He surprised me with an offer to go fishing together when I saw him this year. Not just any fishing but fishing that required waders! Needless to say that made it all the more fun that he had planned out all the details including this novelty. The area we went to reminded me of Indiana. My boys would have loved it as well. Fishing always reminds me of my dad - he loved to fish.

      Thoughts of Indiana bring back feelings of joy but even bigger feelings of sadness or perhaps desperation. I was desperate for God's presence - I don't know what I would have done if I had not had him in my life during those hard years. I was as one living in Egypt - longing for saving. Now life seems like a bit of the desert wandering. Sometimes I think, "Haven't I been here before?" What a joy though to have my husband with me as we wander ever towards the Promise Land.

     Today I sit and type as a respite for my knee and my soul. I got that black belt in Taekwondo and Nathan and I are currently working on our 2nd Dans. Unfortunately another student performed a technique that caused damage to my knee. The hardest part are the feelings of frustration that come in waves like nausea. The pain is upsetting but the loss of activity and physical fitness have caused me to feel particularly down in the dumps. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever return to TKD. What if this is it for me? Ugh... I really do enjoy TKD. It has only been two weeks tho. Sigh... Can you hear my pity party?

     Our pastor's words found me today. He was in Galatians but had gone to Hebrews 11 following a rabbit trail on faithfulness. Those saints of old saw God's plan for deliverance from a distance. They heard it, understood it, perceived it was given to them, anticipated it was achievable, welcomed it with JOY, and then confessed it. When I read back thru the blog and considered my own journey to SD, I realized I did that as well. My mom and I had no idea that those early prayers and desires would be fulfilled in such a mighty way! These additional words from him filled my heart with much needed encouragement:

"This is not a one-time confession but a lifetime confession. 

I am not just glancing towards the city one time, but I am seeking the city."

     I felt encouraged to get out of this tent and start moving again. NO not moving the household again... unless God were to lead me there... but to stop the pity party and do what I can to move towards the city on the hill. There are a lot of loose threads of brokenness, sadness, and loss within our family and extended family and those we care about but there is this city... this promise, this Way. I want to continue on and I want each of you to come as well. So let's pack up the tents and hit the road. The rest stop we have been staying at has become a stench pool instead. We have got to get moving before we forget that we were called to another home.

    So today, I will upload this blog post. Then I'll start with some leg lifts per my physical therapist instructions followed by some good ole sit-ups and push-ups (I think I'll start with 10 each). By the time I finish all that, it will be time to make dinner. Tomorrow is another day... let's get going... and do the very next thing.

Nearly Fall

If one could only capture a moment in a photograph as clearly as words capture thoughts. This photo is just a mere shadow of the reality of this day. It was a glorious day with a warm sun and gentle wind that caused the grass to wave and flow. I am always reminded of Rich's words, "there's more that dances on the prairie than the wind...". Life all around me- flowing wild and free; His Spirit and creation dancing before my eyes. Wow! Add to that the smell of the prairie. One can not fully grasp the words to describe that unique and powerful smell. I feel so alive- so very solid. I am free to enjoy the moment that He lays out before me. Perhaps a simple ride down roads that are no more than a grass trail can become moments of praise to Him.

I began this post back in June but only got that first paragraph before living took over and this post rested. Now the colors are turning and the fields are being harvested. I took this photo while traveling back from a busy day at the schools. I love the colors and this endless land and sky. All the boys are really settling into this laid back wide open ground. We call this "home" for now - recognizing that this world can never really be our home.

Work is extremely busy for me right now. I remind myself that this is for a season. Just as these colors burst on the scene, life ebbs and flows in richness and beauty as well as death and decay. "For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven..." I want to rest in that and not strive for more. The Spirit whispers to me, "Is this enough? Do you trust Me? Do I not give good gifts to My children who love Me?"

It is good enough. I want to trust You, help my unbelief! Yes, You do give good gifts to Your children. Thank-you again and again!

Palm Sunday, the First Day of Spring, and My Father's Birthday

Look at that grin... Oh Father in Heaven how I miss my dad. Today he would have been 70 years old and extremely sick if he had continued on. This is him busy working with his hands in Uganda. Don't let that fool you though... he was also quick to enjoy a cup of coffee and conversation. Often I'm asked how I came to live out here rather than Indiana. It always goes back to my dad. He came out to White River, SD on an invite from some other men to lend a hand working for a pastor. That single trip became a yearly trek that brought my mom and eventually my oldest two boys as well.

And then came the hard year when we watched his health vanish. For some reason, White River came to his heart and mind. Isn't it funny how God works in those little details? Why not Uganda, Puerto Rico, Egypt, Vietnam, Korea, Germany, Texas, Israel, or some other part of the world in which he had traveled? It wasn't as if he ever said that White River, SD was the best place he had ever visited. It was just another place he had gone. But White River, South Dakota came to his mind and he talked of my mom bringing me and the boys west to the middle of nowhere. Looking back I wish I would have asked more. Why there? Did he see around the bend for me?

Those Valley Springers back in Indiana talk about speaking into one another. They live it well as they encourage one another. I'm not sure how they say it exactly but I think of it like this. As Christians we ought to "encourage the brethren" and "speak truth" to one another. But what does that look like and how do we do that. Someone mentioned having a vision for another and encouraging them based on that vision. With all the people I know, I may have no clue of what God's plan is for their life. Perhaps I don't know them well enough or perhaps God hasn't given me any clue. That is ok. But there are a few, maybe only one or two, in which I do see them at a next stage. Not exactly like, "you are going to be a missionary..." but perhaps more like "I see you past this difficult stage and pursuing God" and "look at how you are actively chasing Him" in this way. I call it seeing around the bend. To be on the receiving end of those words, has saved me in my darkest moments. (Thank -you Geri... you saw faith when all I saw was fear. Those words you said have carried me far.)

So back to my dad... I like to think he saw around a bend and that God even gave him a location where I would land. Perhaps my dad knew of my love to drink a cup of coffee and visit. Perhaps he knew of how well I do with getting by with what I have. I know he knew that I would need healing and perhaps something made him think the hills and big sky would heal my broken heart with his passing. I think God put those words on his lips and he said them. I don't remember my dad ever hesitating with pursuing God in word or deed. He was a man of action.

As the novelty of this first year comes to a end I am truly amazed at the hand of God as He has brought me around the bend and shown me His Glory. Today at church the pastor asked "What has God done for you?". I wanted to say "He has healed me and bound up my broken heart". He has brought me back to life - I feel like how Lazarus must have felt as they removed the wrappings of death and his eyes beheld the sun again. I am alive again! What a fitting date to reflect on new life! One of my patient's told me spring is the time for change and my departure from Indiana was timed well. Geesh- I hadn't even planned that last year. But God sure did!

Working with my many patients has also been encouraging. I'm embracing my curly hair for the first time in my life. Currently, I have decided to grow it out. Nothing beats hearing another sweet grey haired woman compliment my crazy curls. That seems like such a trivial thing but for me it is huge. I've taken up taekwondo with Nate (who is a blue belt already) and drive 45 minutes 3-4x's a week for lessons. (I tried the cardio kickboxing class he offered but thought I was going to have a heart attack!) But taekwondo is invigorating and the sparring against the instructor was fun and not as scary as I imagined! I'm negotiating with my Lakota friends to join me in taking Lakota language courses. Just yesterday, I learned how to hem some pants and did it. Today I painted my toenails blue. On the warm days, I drive with the windows down and don't worry about how really wild my hair will be.

My words for this year are "why not". I am free to pursue God and free to be who I really am in Him. I am free to live and laugh and enjoy. Maybe you are thinking that I've gone crazy or will go to far. Grace is one of those scary words that Christians worry over. I feel I have gone a bit crazy- I mean what 40 year old woman paints their toenails a bright blue and takes up taekwondo to pursue a black belt? I like to think of G.K. Chesterton's words from Orthodoxy about the sane and the insane. Of course lengthy and wordy but well worth the read!

"The last thing that can be said of a lunatic is that his actions are causeless. If any human acts may loosely be called causeless, they are the minor acts of a healthy man; whistling as he walks; slashing the grass with a stick; kicking his heels or rubbing his hands. It is the happy man who does the useless things; the sick man is not strong enough to be idle. It is exactly such careless and causeless actions that the madman could never understand; for the madman (like the determinist) generally sees too much cause in everything. The madman would read a conspiratorial significance into those empty activities. He would think that the lopping of the grass was an attack on private property. He would think that the kicking of the heels was a signal to an accomplice. If the mad man could for an instant become careless, he would become sane. Every one who has had the misfortune to talk with people in the heart or on the edge of a mental disorder, knows that their most sinister quality is a horrible clarity of detail; a connecting of one thing with another in a map more elaborate than a maze."

I like to think of it as embracing the mystery of God's plan in my life and allowing myself to enjoy the ride. Instead of searching and worrying about the next bend, I'm leaning back and throwing up my hands to His grace. I feel much like a little girl again looking at my heavenly Father and seeing Him wave me on. Go climb that gigantic slide. The ride is worth far more than the worry of the climb. Sure I could fall and break my neck- but I could just as easily die sitting here typing this silly blog. That sure would be funny- "I wonder why her toenails were blue?" and "why are they burying her in the taekwondo uniform?"! Dear family- please do! Well- I mean display me that way and then cremate me. God has a much better outfit awaiting me and I'll let the little ones in heaven paint my toenails! It would be quite a story to tell those astonished grievers that I wanted to be remembered pursuing God and enjoying life along the way.

Ah the mystery of God that He calls us in the 21st century to believe in the fairy tale. How God loves us so much that He sent His Son- Jesus. That He fulfilled every prophecy down to the smallest details including riding a colt into Jerusalem. He beckons us with the promise of Heaven with only a simple step of trusting Him and accepting Jesus as the ONLY way. Not our works, not our reasoning, not some solid proof- nay only simple faith like that of a child, His child. That is what we are regardless of the pretending. Today I celebrate the arrival of Jesus upon the scene. His face set like flint toward death because of the vision around the bend. And I set my face- with crazy curls and blue toenails- in anticipation of the bend. Joyful and childlike, I embrace the unfolding of His plan!

Encore!!

As an Occupational Therapy Assistant, I look for routines and habits with my patients. Those habits and routines make up a portion of the Occupational Profile and give me insight into my patient. I can also use those to my patient's advantage when attempting to complete a task.  Sometimes I ask how he or she completed a task prior to injury. Even more frequently, I watch to see what the individual will do when facing a task. Getting dressed is a perfect example. Everyone completes this task differently. Now imagine a hip fracture and a change of environment (the hospital) and the routine becomes more complex. No more bending forward to place those legs through. Suddenly new routines have to be established; now a reacher and sock aid join the session. The task is the same but the processes changes.

Lately I have had a lot of hip fracture patients and have been teaching a lot of adaptive equipment use. The days have been long and monotonous. I come home tired and emotionally drained. I think and hope that this is just a season.  Soon enough the caseload will change and spring will come. In the meantime, I am really enjoying my weekends staying cozy and warm at home. Every now and then I sort through another box. The best weekends are spent hanging out with the boys and not working :)

Spring is slowly advancing; the days grow longer and longer and the temperatures gradually climb. This means I get to see the sun rise and set each day. I am amazed and encouraged every time. My mind drifts back to G.K. Chesterton's passage from Orthodoxy. This is a somewhat lengthy passage but a worthy read! 

 "The sun rises every morning. I do not rise every morning, but the variation is due not to my activity, but to my inaction. Now, to put the matter in a popular phrase, it might be true that the sun rises regularly because he never gets tired of rising. His routine might be due, not to a lifelessness, but to a rush of life. The thing I mean can be seen, for instance, in children, when they find some game or joke that they specifically enjoy. A child kicks his legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, 'Do it again'; and the grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony.

But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony.

It is possible that God says every morning, 'Do it again' to the sun; and every evening, 'Do it again' to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we. The repetition in Nature may not be a mere recurrence; it may be a theatrical encore."

 I really think God specializes in occupational therapy. I'll have to blog more about that another day because it is rather interesting to think about. But back to Chesterton's passage. The Father thrives on repetition but that repetition varies as well. The sun greets and departs each day; the moon and stars file across the dark sky. But the tilt of the axis and the changes in the atmosphere as well as a billion other reasons cause each sunrise to appear differently. God does it again and again and yet there is always some way in which it is different from the last time.

How do I fit in this encore? As the audience member, can I see these variations? Do my eyes behold how He changes it up for me? Or do I just see monotony-on and on and on? I've been looking for those routines as well as His subtle changes. I am continually amazed. I wish that I could capture it but there is no possible way! Books could never contain it and photographs could never fully do justice to His majesty!

The other day I was moaning and groaning on my way into work. Sometimes I do that... true story. I can be a whiner. My whining that day mainly consisted of blah blah blah... here I go again...blah blah blah. The sunrise caught my eye. Sigh... He does it again and I am amazed. What? Again. He does it again. And not only that, He is asking me to do it again. Will I participate in the dance?

"It may be that our little tragedy has touched the gods, that they admire it from their starry galleries, and that at the end of every human drama man is called again and again before the curtain." (G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy)

 
Perhaps our boring moments are not at all boring to Him. Does He look for our subtle changes and find joy? What makes it more interesting to Him? This thought gave me the boost of energy I needed in that moment and in this season. How can I view each day as an opportunity to perform for Him even in the routine? How can I surprise Him? This has literally transformed those blah moments into powerful opportunities to serve Him.

And He in turn blesses me with His ENCORE!

Pressing on in gratitude

 

      The other day a co-worker asked me what I was thankful for... wow if he only knew how my life has changed in a year! Look at this beautiful sight I come home to each day! I took this after our first snowfall out here in South Dakota. Nearly every morning I look out the windows from my bed and smile at the wonder of the Father's love for me. 

     No everything isn't perfect out here. In fact some days and weeks feel difficult and bleak. But I marvel at how He has sustained me and refreshed my soul when I have needed Him most. I see His beautiful rolling hills, the grasses dancing in His presence, the sky with clouds and sunsets reminding me of His never ending encore of love, and the stars that I gaze upon- they declare His glory throughout the universe just for those who look up to see.

      I love this country and I love these people. I have been privileged to be a part in the lives of my patients on their road to healing. I have great co-workers who do their job well and with great kindness for their patients. I have ventured into a new church family (I miss you Valley Springers). And best of all, those quiet gentle folks I love with easy laughs as we sit side by side- God continues to bring us together when I most need the refreshment.

      So here I sit, cozy in my little house in the rolling prairies. This Thanksgiving Day I long to tell you to chase after the Father. When He burdens your heart for someone or something, keep begging Him why and if there would be anything He desires of you to do. If it be prayer, pray. If it be give, then give.  If it be go, then by all means go!

 

     Sometimes on the hard days, I stop and think... if I died today or this very moment, am I where I feel the Father wants me? Am I doing what He wants me to do? I have no regrets on this choice. I do miss you my friends and family...  

But - I am well and it is well with my soul...

I send you my love friends and family!

Press on...

An Experiment in Faith

An Experiment in Faith

Where does one begin telling of an adventure? I tend to tell long stories full of details that may seem insignificant to others but I feel are a part of the beauty of the story.  I’ll fast forward this tale trusting you already know of our passion and deep appreciation of the Lakota and the prairie. That seems somewhat tragic to leave out those very huge realities because they are the weight and essence of our plan. Those realities are framed with the Father as our sure foundation and carpenter of His plan. Tell me you get that already… let me see your eyes shine with agreement before I continue…

Now I need to know that you also are full of a desire for adventure. Yes, you might not travel far within your community and live a rather ordinary life. But don’t you have a side that longs to do something completely irrational and reckless. If you knew at any time you could snap your fingers and the adventure could be reversed (just in case things went south), wouldn’t you like to really LIVE wild and free. I think we all feel that way regardless of age. Perhaps I read it in Lewis or Chesterton- but I believe it is another truth of the reality of the Father’s creation.

So, this tale begins with a choice, a very clear and decisive choice. Through the many details and events of the past seven years as well as some other huge defining moments, I found myself with a degree as an Occupational Therapy Assistant and began looking for a job. This is no easy task and the recruiters were less then pleased to learn I wasn’t really sure where I would like to work. On a whim and whispered prayer, I checked the area of SD hoping that just maybe God would say yes. Fast forward through all of those miracles, and you find me faced with one of the hardest decisions of my life. A job is available and hour from the community I love, the interview goes great, the pay is small, and I am standing on the brink of a life changing moment.

Now obviously to those who know- I took the leap of faith towards God. He has never failed me and I decided to risk my future in His hands. I know I possibly could have misread His intentions and have made some error along this path. But I believe that God can and will correct me. I would beg you to not minimize the mighty hand of the Father to do this in your life. He is able to save- able to redeem, and able to move. Our choice in all those matters, are similar to a relationship between a two year old and a father. God is bigger than your mistakes- and all the ragamuffins shout “AMEN!”

I write this surrounded by the hills, prairie, and mixture of the Lakota I love and the other locals I am coming to love. My mom is keeping me company. Together we have settled on a newsletter/blog of sorts. I am hoping we will share this platform and you will get a chance to hear her words as well. I’m not sure there will be much of a chronological sequence to the posts. As the words come, we will record them. Our desire is to convey the results of our experiment and allow the reader to know more about our journey of faith. I’ll close with this:

·         Romans 1:17 “For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, “The righteous shall live by faith.”

·         Hebrews 11:1 “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for the conviction of “things not seen”.

·         Hebrews 11: 6 “And without faith it is impossible to please Him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe He exists and that He rewards those who seek Him.”  

Come and join us on this experiment of faith in the Almighty God…

 

the woman with the alabaster jar...

You ask why this woman, why she would throw such extravagance in a leper's house... I guess I wonder why more of us don't...

If she was Mary, THE Mary who chose better and sat at that feet of Jesus rather than worry about lunch...

If she was Mary, THE Mary who looked Jesus in the eye and said "if you had been here..."

The Mary who wept two days as her brother lay cold...

The Mary who watched Jesus grieve...

And then, here comes the catalyst,

The Mary who saw with her own eyes death triumphed on this side of the River...

Why wouldn't she do something so raw and yet beautiful, fearless and dangerous... Won't we all when we see Him conquer death... Real death!? Won't we all cast down our crowns at His feet!?

Have you tasted death? Have you had that moment of raw pain when after weeping for days? The Messiah drops by and you cry out... "If only you had been here..."

In precepts, Karla talked about living between this world's "life" (our best moments) and "death" (those moments of intense pain). That we strive to avoid "death" and seek only "life". Our own little version of living. And how pitifully small that world is. Those words have stuck with me.

I have read about Him resurrecting the dead, read about Him defying His own grave, met Him in front of my Father's real tomb, and my brother's figurative tomb, even my own "death" tombs... I have said to Him, "if only"...

I have spent much time living in that shallow land of my poorly defined life and death and decided no more.

I've been stepping out in faith and joyfully realizing that it wasn't death.

My father's death five years ago... (Can still feel like death but only if we think tombs are the end of the story!)
talking to people isn't death (still a work in progress!),
going back to college isn't death (I actually love it quite a bit!)
Nate's illness when he was little (even if arthritis continues to lurk in his life)
my oldest boy, in anger, leaving home the day after Christmas... (that continues to be a huge stretch of faith in the face of a really large rock blocking that tomb... How I long to see what He is doing)

And this moment I am in right now... It is not death!

Well you get the idea. Some things have been little steps of faith and others huge agonizing hardships I haven't understood... But none of it has been real death! And I have found great joy in telling the Father thank-you each time I realize the lies I had believed were only smoke and mirrors.

So live, boldly and fearless for Him. And encourage others to live likewise! Each of us have a tomb we long to meet Him at. A tomb where the death stench keeps us away. Won't it be awesome to watch "Lazarus" come out and help unwrap death to life in each other... And won't it be even more wonderful on the other side when all this world explodes in His glory!

And when we fail, as we will, He offers us His cup of forgiveness... And we pick up our crosses and follow Him...

Thanks for helping me send this boy to Nepal with great joy... He is one of my five highly treasured perfumes. Be it to sickness, a journey of hardships, or to the heights following God, I want to pour these jars over Him ... With much boldness even in the face of fear.

"The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?"

Some day ... some glorious day all these tombs will crack open and we dead will LIVE

We are the sheep of His pasture

Up early this morning. Listened to an old clip of Rich Mullins talking about a trip to Asia where he heard a sermon on the Good Shepherd. He said how interesting it was to hear the sermon from the perspective of someone who has never seen a sheep or knows about shepherding. They don't have those in the particular country he was in. The pastor then put a lot of effort into understanding what these creatures were and why they were raised. That part got me.

Sheep are raised for wool, milk, or meat. Now granted there might be one or two places that keep a sheep or two for a pet. But the main reason to have, keep, and put up with sheep are for wool, milk, or meat. And wool is only for so long... eventually they all are butchered for the shepherd. wow...

Here in America, I think we tend to view our little Christian selves as cute little lambs, frolicking on the plush hills (or at least we would like to), finding ourselves hunted by the big bad wolf, and occasionally rescued by the Good Shepherd. We are His pets that He created to hang out with. Right? It really is all about me! Right?

But to think about the real reason a shepherd has sheep. To think about Him wanting us for what we can provide to Him or His family. To think about my fluffy coat being taken (with or without my offering it) to be used by the Shepherd. To bless, to comfort, to give to others. My fluffy coat are the words, deeds, and things that God can use to provide for His family. That I can offer all of that in complete joy to His cause knowing that is why He keeps me around.

Or how about that milk. Has God gifted you with the ability to nourish others. I think of teachers, parents, pastors, etc that God feeds on His abundant hills so that you can lay around gorged? No, He has given to you that you might give life to others.

And lastly to think of why most sheep were kept in Israel. To be sacrificed at Passover. God keeps us to eat us.  He intends that we will die. Die to our little worlds that we fabricate. Die to our dreams. Die to our plans. Die to what we want or demand that God give us.  Die. Die. Die.

We are all going to die. We can die on some forsaken hill by a shepherd who could care less for us or we can die healthy and fat by the Good Shepherd's hand, fulfilling what He has asked of us. People like to talk about God having a plan for you, and how great it will be. Yeah... it's death. Only through death will there be abundant life.  That is His plan and God doesn't have a plan B. You can either accept it and be a part of His plan and experience pure JOY in that, or you can die on some forsaken hill, ravaged by disease and not even be worthy to be eaten.

He is the Good Shepherd and I want to be His lamb...I want to experience real joy. I want to be with Him. I want to be fat and healthy enough to be chosen for sacrifice. But until then, He can have my coat and milk to share. That is why He's keeping me around. I want to be useful to Him.

Of course that means I need to stay out of the briers and follow His voice. Ouch... my toes hurt too.

exchanging the Christmas gifts

Have you exchanged any gifts this year?

Today I received a gift my sister sent me. It was a perfect gift for me. She knows me so well and found just the right book to keep me busy for awhile. Her gift says that she knows me, sees me, and is confident enough of that to go out and get this for me.

Today we also began studying Romans in community. Chapter 1 talks of exchanges. My eye caught on that word. I kept thinking of all those gifts we give and receive. I thought of the real Gift we have been given.

"For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son..."

In Romans and even today, "they" exchanged

• the glory of the immortal God for idols
• the truth about God for a lie
• natural sexual relations for unnatural ones

And God, who gives, gave them over...

• in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity
• to shameful lusts
• to a depraved mind

I thought about what the exchange says. I don't like this. It won't fit me. You don't know me very well. You don't see me. In our rejection of God, we state that to Him. I will not take death, this accident, or this event from your hand. I can't believe you would ask this of me. You don't see me. All these are lies given to us by the father of lies.

I want to continue in faith. I want to trust the Giver. I know that might seem crazy when the world around me falls apart. If I fall apart. But He has never lied.

This year I don't want to exchange His gifts.

"For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, 'The righteous shall live by faith.'"

How "much-afraid" is becoming "Grace in Glory"

for your viewing pleasure... precepts and Hinds' Feet expanded... If you click on the first picture, blogger will put the pictures in an easier to view slide show format. You can see my awesome drawings better :)




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Now I know the real "Much-Afraid" became "Grace and Glory" in the book... but I liked my typo "Grace in Glory" and kept it... because this is my blog and well... I can :) May you jump off the cliffs of insanity safety... and join me here in the Shadowlands. If you don't jump that is ok... I didn't either. He will get you off. That's the breaks... He loves us just that much... Oh look, there is another flower!





provoked

"What provokes in you a sense of despair and death?"

Ugh. These questions can split you to the marrow. So I go there and think about that this Sunday morning service. It isn't very hard. After my father passed away...

It sits like that hanging... it has been almost five years and we have been changed forever. Death has come only for us to realize it was always here.  

So what provokes that now? Why just about anything! I take a look at creation and I see it there. When I look at my life, I see it there. When I look at others, I see it there. Broken and messy, this life reeks death. How to live in that pain?

I have lived. It was almost that simple. Life just kept on spinning and I couldn't get off. And I argued with God and I raged inside and He didn't let go. He forced me to breathe and He rooted me deep. He invited me to look and see.

Well you can only hold your breath and cover your eyes for so long. And God being God doesn't let us be. Praise God that He doesn't.

I began to see and hear what He was saying in the midst of all that grief. I heard Him silent first. His silence thundered in my ears and I wondered where He was. He let me stay there long enough to feel desperate, desperate for Him.

And the reeling stopped and I grew still. This song is one I can't sing completely through. My dad was on oxygen. I have had asthma all my life. And I can't even explain what this song does to me. So I won't. But if you have ever had a really severe asthma attack~ you might just get it.

God quietly came closer in that silence until I opened my eyes and realized He was right there. And I made this thankful list and I began to see Him. And He was everywhere. Everywhere death was, He was too. His fingerprints and promises wrapped betrayed Him. I saw Him wooing His creation, wooing me. Trust Him. Hope. Believe.

And me, I did.

Now don't get me wrong... life's not peaches now and I can tell you just last week I hit rock bottom (or so I thought) and felt quite desperate. But I knew where to go, and I stepped out even though I wanted to step in. Well after a few days of standing there and arguing, I stepped out.

Pastor shared Haggai with us today. But he started us on the front side of captivity here.  You live, work, have kids, and care for your place of community. Remember you have been captured. It was easy to do that with freedom. But in captivity? It's right there in black and white.

But then we went to the backside of captivity. What to do when the glory of the temple just isn't the same? When you weep rather than sing (Ezra)? What does God say?

You can read for yourself here. But I took "be strong", "and work", and "DO NOT FEAR". (Caps... nice, I need that!)

Mixed in all that, God says, 

"I am with you."

"I WILL shake the heavens and the earth."

"And in this place, I will grant peace." (in this place of death? YES!)

"I will bless you/" (How did He know that was what my heart longed for.)

And the last part has a cross reference in my Bible to the Song of Solomon.... "and I will make you like a signet ring, for I have chosen you."

ah... to be chosen by the Almighty who calls the stars by name. Can I not be strong, work, and not fear with those promises? On my own, no... but covered and lavished by His Grace... YES!

Robert's Psalm

This one boy of mine, he's got a passion for graves. That's him on the ground.

His Sunday School teacher asks the kids to write a psalm of where they are with God. My poor boy is in knots because words are very tricky for him. And to write a whole page and then read those out loud.... ugh. I sigh with him. Then I ask him only to start thinking. He instead started worrying.

So we began work on it one day, when time was ticking closer and closer to that deadline. I hold the pen because who can think when the blank page reflects into your eyes. He has no idea, and maybe he could be sick that day, and why should a thirteen year old have to even do this.

I think instead while he whines. I think of my favorite pictures of him in my head. When my camera died so long ago I started taking mental pictures. And those are even more precious to me than the real pictures. I can call them to mind even in the dark of the night and they never get lost or damaged. But too bad for you, I can't share them. This picture is a bit old.

So I call these memories to mind and there he is... White River, South Dakota straightening the graves, just down the road wiping the grass clippings from my father's stone, and there again kneeling over graves he has no part of and yet he is there. And his heart hangs on his sleeve... I see him bend, wipe, straighten, and sit. Often he lingers... knowing he can't tell the dates or the names... I know he pauses for other reasons. He has always lingered. So why?

I tell him to think about the cemeteries. Yeah, I can be a bit of a crazy mom sometimes. I say tell me about what you feel there. What is going on in that heart? And then I write what he says. He finishes and I ask him to think of God there. Standing by that grave and stone, what does the Father say. He knots again... who can know that. I tell him it is ok if it is as simple as it looks. So we write what we know is Truth.

So here- for those who want to know-

the psalm of my boy

In the cemetery,

I feel like I am in a building

with all the people who have passed away.

I think of their families and what were they like.

I wonder about their lives.

What did they look like?

Were they a Christian?

What kind of lives did they live?

I hope they went to a better place.

God sees me and He knows.

-Robert 



a cracked pot

"But we have this treasure in jars of clay

 to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us."

2 Corinthians 4:7

Last night I fell asleep thinking about being a jar. A cracked pot specifically.

How do I explain that suffering opens up more room within us to trust God and to reveal Him?

I know this is true but how can I ever explain that to someone who is suffering or has yet to suffer? 

This jar of mine is littered with pits and cracks. And I am thankful for them. Each and everyone of them. I wasn't always so. God would allow this suffering in my life and I would howl and stomp my feet and cry. And guess what, the world kept on spinning and He kept on being God. I love that about Him. I love that the most.

At some point I stopped howling and stomping and noticed that lots of people were suffering. I think that was during the time I wasn't in church. God used those three years or so of silence to help me see others sitting at home on Sundays. Imagine that... When you go to church every Sunday you sometimes don't fully grasp all the suffering going on outside the church. 

God was using each of those moments of my own suffering- or those close to me-  to call me to a closer walk with Him. Did I really trust Him? Was He really good?

He gave me this visual image last month in the middle of a precepts class. I hope that in some way this draws you in to Him. Because as you'll see... that is what I want more than anything.

I am a clay jar. And so are you. And if God is pouring His all-surpassing power into me, it will pour out. Over the top if there are no places for it to come out of. And if I am full of myself- well nothing of Him can ever come in or out of me. But God being who He is... He allows and even causes us to suffer. I will never forget the two by four He used on me when I was a defiant 17 year old. God will be heard because He so loves us. (John 3:16)

But if I have suffered in some way just maybe that crack will be an opportunity for Christ to pour from that area into the lives of others. Let me give you an example. One I am willing to share here on the wide web. (Some cracks are pretty specific or a rather personal area that are more about me ~ learning about Him.)

I've got this youngest boy who has suffered. He was diagnosed with Systemic JRA when he was just a little guy of 15 months. We have cried, prayed, and cried some more as he has faced his challenges of daily pain. But in the last year or so I have finally seen areas the God was using his and our suffering. Because of his frequent trips to see the Dr, I had the opportunity to talk with her about God and what He is up to in an area of both our lives that have nothing to do with JRA or this boy of mine. But because of him and it- there we were talking.

Nate and I have also had the opportunity to meet others suffering. He and I pay more attention to those in pain. We tip our waitresses at the restaurants we stop at along the way and wonder about them. We smile at other folks in the elevator. And just because of all those trips to physical therapy- I one day realized that just maybe God had a new direction for my life. One as an occupational therapy assistant helping other people.

And that crack that started so many years ago, has split further around me. It has connected with other cracks, and He is just seeping and oozing and flowing out of my life. And me, I long for that day when all the cracks will give way. When I will no longer be able to hold Him back with my insecurities and cowardly moments, and I will split wide and pour out Christ and nothing else. Because with my clay jar still in the picture, sometimes people see that and think about me and not Him. As He works in my life, chunks of me get blown out from the flow of His power.

And someday... well someday we Christians will split these clay jars wide open... just as Gideon and his men did. Do you long for that day too?

¹⁷ “Watch me,” he told them. “Follow my lead. When I get to the edge of the camp, do exactly as I do. ¹⁸ When I and all who are with me blow our trumpets, then from all around the camp blow yours and shout, ‘For the Lord and for Gideon.’”

¹⁹ Gideon and the hundred men with him reached the edge of the camp at the beginning of the middle watch, just after they had changed the guard. They blew their trumpets and broke the jars that were in their hands. ²⁰ The three companies blew the trumpets and smashed the jars. Grasping the torches in their left hands and holding in their right hands the trumpets they were to blow, they shouted, “A sword for the Lord and for Gideon!” (Judges 7:17-20)



Rich ly remembered September 19th



The Artist Bent- revisited

I have this secret, this glorious secret to share. The words just might not come but I'll type on trying to find them. And because I am creating, it won't look very pretty and my English teacher, well let's just say she might need a wig because of the loss of hair. Look away, if Grammar is your passion. I am really sorry but this might be quite messy.

I read here about God, the Master Artist. I read how He creates. I read here about how it looks. I think of Him there, grieved in His heart and how He plotted destruction because He was sorry that He made them.

I know some artists and I have seen them create. I have marveled at their work and stood speechless at their talent. I have created too and it didn't read too bad. Or would it be badly?

I have also seen these artists revisit their works. I have seen them grieved in their heart. I have even seen them crush the works of their hands, rend their art to shreds, burn it to pieces. And I, being the not so good artist myself, have grieved and ripped my words down from their public platforms, hiding their intent from the world. The artist can not stand to have the creation misunderstood or looking bad or reminding us of our faults.

And the LORD, well He was gonna do it to. He stood there grieving and plotting.

“BUT”

That has got to be my favorite word in the Bible. Everything in my life and yours hinges on that word.

“But Noah found favor in the eyes of the LORD.”

And we see that Master Artist who never makes a mistake. We see Him pause, BENT in His reflection of this creation, and then He reaches back and in.

And if we reflect in thanksgiving, we see Him move in our own lives. Over and over again, He redeems. He snatches the best, the one thing Righteous and He tosses the rest. Yes, He does throw away and burn the trash.

And I think about Him in my life. I think about Him and His moments of fury. I think of Him grieved as He looks upon me. Him plotting to blot me right out of there.

“but”

There He is, on the scene. Snatching what is right and burning the rest. Do you see Him in your life? Can you find Him among all the mess? It really will look like quite a mess when He comes in.

Not long ago, I was telling of how I had been pressed down and burned. How I feel like I have been squished flat as a pancake as the air rushed out of me. Punctured so deeply by those I called friends. And I cried out to Him who hears. And He heard. And then He acted. But not how you might think. I know I didn't see it coming. 

He picked me up, and threw me in the furnace. “Wow, what a loving God?!”

Shall I say it again? More clearly and loudly this time?!

“BUT”

But God- well He fried me to a crisp.

No, not a little warm your soul kind of experience or maybe a tan. No, not even a really bad sunburn. There was no sunscreen.  No, this was a 1,000 degree oven that melts even the finest metal. 

And you know what? Yeah, here is the real secret! There was something left. And it found favor in the eyes of the LORD. And He let it live. It didn't turn to ash and it actually had some worth to it. And He had a plan for it, and it was good.

And He is in the business of shining it up as we speak. (I think He plans to reheat it later.)

And little ol' me? Well, it is ok that He used others to wound me. It is ok that He burned me beyond recognition. It is ok that there is only a little tiny bit of the original me left. Because the GLORIOUS SECRET is

FOR GOD SO LOVED,

THAT HE GAVE

HIS ONLY SON.

AND

WHOSOEVER BELIEVES,

SHALL HAVE ETERNAL LIFE!

Even little ol' me.

Vulnerable among vultures

I know crazy title... but something about vulnerability can make me feel like I'll be picked clean by vultures.  We watched a video in pre-service that I am going to try to share here. I don't know where Brene Brown is spiritually but truth is worth sharing.

I would like to say I practice vulnerability often. But actually I spend a lot of time sneaking out the back door before you can pin me down and ask me how I'm doing. Because I know that I am naked. Frightfully naked.

I would like to think that if you were to ask- I would be quite open before you. I really have a problem telling lies. Even little lies like "Fine, I am just fine". If I say that to you, it is most likely the truth unless I haven't had a second to perform the internal lie detector test. I have somehow inherited this curse blessing from my mom.

That is why social activities and just saying hello can be so dreadfully difficult. Every moment of almost every conversation feels painfully awkward.

Me naked and you with a mask on.

Are those issued when babies are born? Cause I'm telling you- I really could use one!

Now not every conversation is like that. I sometimes meet others that didn't get a mask either. That is always a delight to find. A bit awkward at first (two naked people!) but so refreshing and comfortable.

I would liken it to being drunk without the alcohol to blame for any social mistakes. I have heard that alcohol has that same effect of making the masks come off and everyone has a great conversation or time. Until the pictures go on Facebook!

but more often I find people who have a mask but misplaced it. Or maybe the mask they had has fallen off.

Accidentally.

Or maybe on purpose.

God sometimes tosses them in the trash while they have gone to a closet to recover from a difficult situation.  He's quite hilarious with His business of making us righteous. Hilarious and painful...

But writing, because it is recorded, and talking are two extremely difficult things to do without your mask on. I can see much clearer- but even that brings into sharp focus how really pitiful I look naked next to you with your glamorous mask.

Speaking of pitiful...have you looked at the quality of those masks. Quite flimsy. And I want you to know, those of you with body size masks, that hide almost all of you,

 I will love you anyway.

 If you have taken the time to put up with my awkward social graces, and poor attempts at conversation or blogging~ I am listening.

You can peak over the top of your mask...and say hello to me. If you make a quick exit out the backdoor... I understand. I am quite terrified too.  I will not hold it against you...

Service Sunday: conversations about sin

I am listening, as we all do. I like this community- this oneness. I hear their collective sighs as they come to understand each other or hear the truth said. The tension that builds as we wait patiently for the words to come out. Sometimes the words strangle in the throat and fight to stay trapped. But they long to hear. I long to hear too. We are all trying to understand, trying to grasp this Oneness of Him. The words come and we sit and think. “Is that it? Do I think that too? What is the Truth?” Because all men lie but He doesn't.

“Say more...” Is a common request when they want to hear more. They want to understand better or maybe they agree and want to hear it said in your words. So he asks, this shepherd trying to hear what the flock heard.

I have thought a lot about what all was said. The words I scrawled to remember.

“Sin can be our way back to God.”

“Is sin our only way back to God?”

hmm... I think I remember some words written about that. I write that down. I want to look at that again. Who was that?

“What is sin?”

“...disbelief about the goodness of God...” those words bring that sigh within me and more thoughts.

“What happens when we sin?”

I know this only to well, so I blurt it out. “Separation. Separation of relationships, relationships with God and others.”

“What did Jesus do about sin when he encountered it?”

 We all know what he did with the religious who were seeped in pride. But what about those guys that He broke bread with... What would He do with my neighbor? My kids? What about me? All this filth that we can not be free of. What of that? I write that down too.

We read Lewis' words about not being surprised and how God is rebuilding our houses. He isn't just fixing the roof or the drain and making us into a cottage. He is busting out walls and building a mansion. I think I remember more that Lewis wrote. I find it in his book, Mere Christianity.

“I do mean that wickedness, when you examine it, turns out to be the pursuit of some good in the wrong way.” -Lewis

I think about that, I really like to do that.

My sins are my way back to God. Every sin I carry and wrestle with are all about that broken relationship with Him. I take what He says was good and I distort it with my lack of trust in Him. I reject it or want more of it. I am never satisfied, never content to accept on His terms. I hold that fist up and want my way. And each time I acknowledge that with penitent heart, I find Him there. What Amazing Grace. It is a good thing He is God. We are a wreck... can you imagine if we were in charge.

So I think about the last question. “What is possible to the believer but impossible to unbelievers?”

They seem quite capable to love their neighbor, do good, stay in marriages, raise good kids. I wait, almost worried. Do we have anything else to offer? And then our shepherd and fellow traveler says what Jesus did and what He calls us to do.

“...delight and reveal the Father in every circumstance...”

I think of Him and the path He blazed for us. I want to do that. I want to crawl back each and every time and shine the light on Him. Delight and reveal... what if we Christians pursued that? What if I pursued that?

~walking by faith

"Without faith it is impossible to please Him,

for he who comes to God

must believe that He is,

 and that He is a rewarder of those who seek Him."

(Hebrews 11:6)

     I am out of my comfort zone and walking. It used to be more cloak and no dagger. Me hiding among the trees and hoping no one noticed as I crept through the woods of life. Then all those notes scribbled here and there started to weave themselves into my life. And I feel Him building.

      First the call as a little girl, then those quiet years when I thought sin buried those gifts deep in death. But like all things dead, He calls them forth. And me, little old me, begins to hear those dead bones rattle. So He calls, and I'm gonna follow Him. Maybe it will just be down the road to this next step or maybe He will take me all the way to those hills I love and the gentle quiet folk who live and die there.

     And Ann's words, scrawled and tucked into my Bible, find me last night.

"The things in my life that require faith are all the things that terrify me.  Are we doing anything at all in our lives that require real faith in God."

And her son he adds,

"I can't make it happen, it's a risk and everyday I just keep watching and waiting."

And the past circles back as I read notes and verses jotted in the front of my Bible.

"Behold, I will do something new..."

(Isaiah 43:19)

and further down I read

"...for the gifts and calling of God are irrevocable."

(Romans 11:29)

And I feel Him rattle these dead bones of mine as I murmur with Ezekiel,

"Oh LORD God, Thou knowest."

(Ezekiel 37:3)   

  So today, I study college algebra and hope He makes the mush between my head remember what is really important. And that just maybe I can CLEP out of the real class. And I fill out form after form for scholarships so that just maybe we can keep working towards financial freedom as I follow Him. And in the next 6 months, LORD willing,  you will find my schedule packed and me chewing my nails in terror as I walk all the way He leads me.