The Big Picture

I’ve long thought of God as a master weaver, among other things, and each of us as individual threads in an incredibly complex and beautiful tapestry of His exclusive design. In my mind, our lives run through the pattern on different courses, intersecting at His direction, for His reasons. Only He can see the big picture He is creating. Our vision, and thus our understanding, is limited to a tiny area in the overall weaving – the people and circumstances in our lives that make up our reality at any given moment.

Now I’m sure I’m not the first person to come up with this allegory; in fact, I probably read it somewhere. But it’s stuck with me, and been helpful when I either don’t understand why something bad is happening to me, or even when I’m sure something good has happened just because God wanted to bless me. (Did you pick up on the theme, “It’s all about ME”…?) If the truth be told, God can use the things that happen in my life to not only teach or bless me, but in an infinite number of ways to touch the lives of the people around me and others I will never even know. It boggles the mind to consider how extensive His purposes are … reaching far beyond my existence.

Does that mean He doesn’t intend to bless me, or watch over every detail of my life? Not at all. It just means His thoughts and ways are incomprehensibly greater than mine – and I praise Him for that!


I was thinking of His tapestry earlier this week after I visited with two dear friends who lost a young family member in a tragic accident. I felt so inadequate, even as I was hugging them and telling them how sorry I was for what they were going through. My sweet friend Kathy said, “It’s so hard…” and I would have given anything to make it easier for her. But in the end, all I could was say, “I love you.” I didn’t even remind her that God loves her, and is catching all of her tears in His hands. I would have felt a little like one of Job’s “friends,” presumptuously reminding her of what she already knows.

It’s never easy losing someone you love, but it’s especially hard accepting that someone you think should still be here is gone. We grieve who they were, as well as who we imagine they would have become. Before I left the church I watched a DVD, a compilation of photos of this 26-year-old man’s short life. It blessed me, because I could tell the days he was given were filled with life, love, and laughter. But now he’s gone, just as surely as if he’d been cut neatly out of those pictures with a pair of sharp scissors or ripped out God’s tapestry, leaving a gaping hole in the hearts of the family and friends he left behind.

I don’t know the answer to the question, “WHY?” I only know we live in a fallen world, where horrible things happen. This much I do know, though: God is in the restoration business, and as surely as He restored John, he will restore his loved ones. They will always mourn him, but they can trust in this promise until they see him again in Heaven:

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified … for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.” ~ Deuteronomy 31:6 (NIV)

Talents & Gifts

This cartoon used to hang on the wall of a former co-worker's cubicle, such that it was. He actually worked in an open area fondly referred to as “The Pit” and scattered with rulers and X-Acto knives, snacks, and monkeys of various sizes and types.

I work with an amazing group of people. In our Marketing Department – essentially an in-house ad agency – there is a director, a trade show coordinator, a marketing traffic coordinator, a photographer, an intern, technical and advertising/pr writers (me), and four graphic designers. And while everyone is good at their job, I stand in absolute awe of our graphic designers.

When you’re working for one company, you’re locked into creating the corporate image, and carrying that through in piece after piece you design. It’s all about branding, and so a designer’s work must have the same look and feel as another’s in order to get the desired image across to the customers. This may not seem like such a big deal, but every designer I’ve met has their own style, and sometimes a preferred medium, which they have to sacrifice when they go to work in the corporate world.

One of our younger designers would rather make a living painting, but until then this job pays the bills. She loves art that encompasses high fashion (and will marry our favorite intern this weekend!). I’m still trying to figure out our newest designer’s style; she's a recent college graduate and very well taught professional with a meticulous eye for detail. Our more experienced (i.e., closer to my age) designer has a classic, clean style that appeals to me, and she’s able to impart valuable wisdom to the other from her career experience. We joke about our Creative Director’s OCD, but his impeccable design and quest for perfection pays off in beautiful work that makes us all proud to be working with him.

And the one who knows how to draw a chicken? He’s in graduate school in Savannah now. We miss him, but know he will emerge from his schooling a talented and well trained graphic artist. (To see his style, visit his website: http://www.innospiral.net/ … warning – it’s not for the faint of heart.)

Apart from the graphic designers, I know I’m not cut out to do technical writing, so I depend on our detail-oriented technical writers to provide a solid basis for my “fluff,” and I appreciate them more than they know. Our photographer does incredible work in a world of his own, and our traffic coordinator keeps everything flowing smoothly so our director can be free to do upper management sorts of things. And when I see what our trade show coordinator is responsible for, I thank God I don’t have her job!

I enjoy my job for a lot of reasons, but especially because I love the people I work with. Did I mention these are incredibly talented people?

In the Biblical sense, “talents” refers to a measure of money, rather than a God-given aptitude. Talents are not the same as gifts in the Bible, but I have no doubt that my co-workers have been richly blessed with their artistic talents. I also have no doubt that we have all been gifted by God, for His purposes. 1 Corinthians 12:7-11 (NIV) reads,

“Now to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good. To one there is given through the Spirit the message of wisdom, to another the message of knowledge by means of the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by that one Spirit, to another miraculous powers, to another prophecy, to another distinguishing between spirits, to another speaking in different kinds of tongues, and to still another the interpretation of tongues. All these are the work of one and the same Spirit, and he gives them to each one, just as he determines.”

Do you know what your gifts are? If you don’t, you might want to do some exploring:
http://www.umc.org/site/c.lwL4KnN1LtH/b.1355371/k.9501/Spiritual_Gifts.htm

When you know your gifts and are using them for His glory, things tend to fall into place, much like letting your own individual style shine through your work.

Birthday Haiku

"I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." ~ Psalm 139:14 (NIV)

Our Hannah Banana will celebrate her birthday tomorrow! Who knew 17 years could pass so quickly? Not me, that's for sure...

In this picture she's taking credit for fish her brother caught and making a strong fashion statement. Note Ben's lime green swim trunks and her tie-dyed shirt. Sadly, she'd taken off her stylin' yellow rain boots, which she wore most of the afternoon, but you can just imagine. Thank goodness she came up with this outfit after church. (Did I mention it was Easter?)

Happy birthday, darlin'!

Smart and funny girl,
Free spirit with your own style...
We love you Hannah!

A Father's Love

I took a trip to see my mother recently. Our visits don’t happen as often as I’d like, because they involve a 10-hour roundtrip, not to mention juggling everyone’s schedules and packing (which I detest). And all of this is on my part, because she doesn’t travel.

Still, I’m always glad I went when I get home. I love my mom, and it’s good to spend time with her. But my trips feel very different since my father’s death, nine years ago.

Even though my parent’s house ceased being “home” for me when my children were born, my father made our visits a cause for celebration. For one thing, he planned and cooked special meals for us. Dad was “Master of the Grill,” and I’m not talking about burgers, but big, juicy roasts. His Brunswick stews were legendary; he was, after all, from Brunswick County, Virginia. He would start with a stovetop Dutch oven (“I’m just going to make enough for dinner…”) and end up with a huge pot he had to stir with a long wooden paddle. I loved taking a quart home, not only for a quick dinner on a cold night, but because his stew was a labor of love. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will never taste fried oysters as good as my father’s again.

Don’t get me wrong. Mom is always happy to see us, but she’d rather go out to dinner than cook any day, so that’s what we do. I don’t blame her ... I just miss the feeling of knowing I was loved because my Daddy cooked something special for me. In fact, I think I inherited the love language of cooking from him.

I’ve come to believe there is no one in this world other than your parents who will love you unconditionally. I can say that as a daughter who has lost one parent, and as a parent myself. Maybe that’s why we feel so abandoned when we lose a parent. And if I didn’t know that I had a father in heaven who loves me no matter what, I imagine I’d feel like an orphan.

So I’m thankful for the father I had for 38 years here on earth, and for the father I will always have in heaven.

"The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children.” ~ Romans 8:16 (NIV)

Walking in the Light

“…if we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another…” ~ 1 John 1:7 (NIV)

One of my best purchases at the Farmers’ Market this season was a pot of flowers I bought from my friend Joe. There were several different varieties in this one pot, including a fuchsia geranium, some lavender petunias, and something with dark purple trailing leaves which, to my delight, started blooming this week.

But the majority of the container is filled with portulaca, or, to be technical, “portulaca grandiflora.” In fact, it should be called “portulaca greediflora,” because it’s taken over to the point where I have to prop the pot up with a big rock just to keep it from tipping over! If you don’t know anything about portulaca, it has succulent leaves on trailing stems, making it resistant to drought and my occasional forgetfulness, and perfect for my full-sun front deck. It also boasts a multitude of cheery flowers every day, deep coral and vibrant yellow blossoms that open in the sunlight, but close at night and on cloudy days.

I can’t help thinking I bear some resemblance to my portulaca, and it's not a flattering comparison. When my life is sunny, it’s easy for me to bloom, full of faith and hope. But sometimes, when the skies turn cloudy, or even worse, when I’m in the pitch black of night and it feels like the sunrise will never come, my instinct is to close up and keep to myself. When I’m “hunkered down” I don’t let anyone in, and I surely can’t reach out to others. The only thing that keeps me blooming is the vine, and staying connected to Him. "I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” ~ John 15:5 (NIV)

So stay connected … come sun, clouds, or dark of night.

Flying Lessons

I just watched these two beautiful girls – my daughter Hannah and her friend Whitney – get into a car and drive away, ready for the first day of their senior year of high school.

It felt far removed from those momentous first days of kindergarten, when I would pick out my children’s perfectly matched clothes and pack nutritious lunches in brand new lunchboxes. And of course they wore the huge poster board cutout of a school bus, their bus number prominent in fat, black marker, so they would make their way back to us that afternoon. I would slip this vital information, strung on a scratchy yarn necklace, over their necks and make them pose on our front deck for the all important “first day of school” photo.

There was no picture today. The last one I took was the year our son Ben was a senior driving his freshman sister to school. They wouldn’t stop for a photo, so I got a shot through the bedroom window, with them looking up at me impatiently as if to say, “Can we please leave already??”

So it’s a bittersweet morning for a mom. I know this year will fly by, picking up speed as it goes. Ben has already been gone two years, and we’ll likely be packing Hannah’s things this time next year. But that’s the plan, right? I’ve heard it put this way: We’re working to put ourselves out of a job. The goal? To raise our children to leave the nest as independent, confident young adults, ready to face a world of wonderfully exciting possibilities!

When they were little I quoted this scripture often: “Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it,” (Proverbs 22:6, NIV). It’s still appropriate, and a comfort to me when I’m not sure where they are or what they’re doing.

But I also find encouragement in Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV): “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”

It’s a verse I’ve claimed for myself many times, and now I claim it for my children as they take flight. They’re not ours … they never were. And there’s great reassurance in that truth, too.

Creek Days

"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze." ~ Isaiah 43:2 (NIV)

This is, hands down, my all-time favorite photo of my children. It was taken in 1995. Can you see the genuine happiness in their eyes? It's a blessing to know your kids are happy.

"Creek Day" is something of a tradition in our family. We choose a weekend in early August and descend on my inlaws' bottom land, lush and green because it's runs along the creek on their property. It's actually the former homeplace of my father-in-law's grandparents. Creek Day is a time for family to gather, camp, eat, fellowship, fish, and just float down the creek on inner tubes, over and over again. It's a simpler time ... it's a time to disconnect and just be ... and for us, it just happens to be this weekend.

I wish you a "Creek Weekend," wherever you are this weekend.

Bring the Rain

I can count a million times,
People asking me how I
Can praise You with all that I've gone through
The question just amazes me
Can circumstances possibly
Change who I forever am in You
Maybe since my life was changed
Long before these rainy days
It's never really ever crossed my mind
To turn my back on you, oh Lord
My only shelter from the storm
But instead I draw closer through these times
So I pray,

Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain.

I am Yours regardless of
The dark clouds that may loom above
Because You are much greater than my pain
You who made a way for me
By suffering Your destiny
So tell me what's a little rain
So I pray,

Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain.

Holy, holy, holy
Is the Lord God Almighty.

MercyMe ~ Coming Up To Breathe
http://mercyme.org/main

Rain, or the lack of it, has been a popular talking point in my part of the country this year. Usually the conversation boils down to the obvious: We need rain and we need it now ... good, steady, soaking rain to green things up and replenish the water table. If it comes too fast and furious it just runs off, eroding the soil and leaving us worse off than we were to begin with. We want our blessings just so, don't we?

It's been so dry churches have even taken to adding rain to their prayer lists. Now there's an extreme idea. But even more extreme is the idea of praying for rain - problems, trials, heartaches - in our lives for the sole purpose of glorifying Him. Remember the old saying, "Be careful what you ask for"? Most people would think you got what you deserved if you prayed such a thing. But I'm thinking such a prayer would a sign of spiritual maturity.

I have a good friend who I consider to be much farther along in her faith journey than I am. She's one of those rare friends I want to be like when I grow up. We were talking one day not too long ago about a thunderstorm that stalled over my life. After listening for a while she looked at me and said, “Have you reached the place where you can thank God for your situation right now?” I didn't get her question at first. After all, I was whining a fair amount, so I just thought it was probably a rhetorical question. And even when I did figure out what she meant, I had to admit I was nowhere near being grateful for the driving rain in my life.

But I kept her question tucked away in the back of my mind and eventually I got to that place. It took some time and a whole lot of soul-searching, but I got there. And the great thing about being in a place of acceptance and gratitude is, that's where we find God. To truly be thankful for our circumstance means we're content to live our lives in real relationship with God, trusting Him for every need and each situation.

I think that’s what He wants from us, isn’t it? I know that’s where we have to be for Him to use us for His glory.

So let it rain … He’ll shelter you.

Are You Listening?

I like this cartoon because it’s “word humor.” In fact, I am a little ashamed to admit that I have it hanging on my cubicle wall, and when people stop to read it I judge them on how quickly they get it. Snobbish, I know… For more humor like this, check out http://www.toothpastefordinner.com (but not if you’re easily offended, because it’s not all like this).

As Strother Martin said in the movie Cool Hand Luke, “What we have here is a failure to communicate.” Can you relate? Sometimes we totally misunderstand what someone else is saying to us, which can lead to embarrassing consequences. Other times, people misunderstand us, leading to hurt feelings, or worse, leaving us feeling alone and alienated. Yeah, life can be like a game of Telephone sometimes.

But as awkward or bewildering as miscommunication can be between people, it’s worse between man and God. He knows our thoughts and hearts, so there can be no confusion on His part. But sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing Him clearly. In John 6:45 Jesus says, “It is written in the Prophets: 'They will all be taught by God.' Everyone who listens to the Father and learns from him comes to me.” (NIV) Even though the key word is “listen,” I’m not always sure I heard Him correctly. So I wait … and study … and keep questioning.

If I'm patient, He'll make it all clear to me in His perfect timing. And if I'm obedient, I’ll be in the center of His will ... right where I long to be.

Be Free

My baby girl had her wisdom teeth out today ... just another step closer to being all grown up. She did great, of course. Forty-five minutes flat and now she's ensconced on the sofa with her puffy comforter, a multitude of pillows, the TV remote, and some excellent drugs.

Right before we left the oral surgeon's office another girl showed up to have six, count 'em, SIX wisdom teeth cut out. I don't know how that happens, but that's what her parents told me. It just goes to show there's always someone worse off than you are.

Everyone has their own "stuff," and I'm not talking about extra teeth. Stuff = problems (put mildly), issues, junk, garbage, baggage we lug around with us, day in and day out… It bears remembering that no one is immune, so we should try to be, as I recently heard someone suggest, "kinder than necessary." In fact, someone else I can't remember either (it may have been Rick Warren) said, "Everyone is either heading into a crisis, coming out of a crisis, or smack-dab in the middle of one," (my paraphrase).

Wouldn't it be great if we could just schedule an operation to have all of our "stuff" taken out? When we woke up it would be gone, leaving us so much lighter! And when we left the doctor's office (or the hospital if we had some really heavy "stuff" to lose) there'd be no taking it home with us; it would be gone forever.

Well, here's the good news: "...if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed." ~ John 8:36 (NIV)

I know that I am free. I just need to start living like I believe it.

Be free!

Living Abundantly

One of my favorite things to do on a Saturday morning, besides sleep in, is visit the local Farmer's Market. You know it must be good to get me out of bed so early. If you don't go early, you may as well just forget about it, because all of the best produce and flowers will be history, gracing the early birds' tables and vases instead of yours.

I have two rules that govern my Farmer's Market shopping: Spend only the cash in your pocket (sorry, no checks or cards), and don't buy more than you can carry. Following my own rules takes some strategy, so I always make a "walk-through" first, setting my priorities, and checking out who has what the best looking harvest for the week.

I like to think I'm doing my part to spread the love around to all of the local farmers, but the truth is that I have my favorites. There are my friends, who have the glossiest eggplants, the most colorful peppers, the best selection of fragrant herbs. Then there's the older couple whose produce looks more utilitarian. But I can always count on his tongue-in-cheek commentary to make me smile. I've practically become addicted to the soft-spoken baker's simply heavenly multi-grain loaves. And I almost always buy a bunch of spicy basil or tangy cilantro from the Amish boy, if only to see his shy smile. The highlight of my visit is finding out what flowers make up a $5 bunch this week - cosmos, zinnias, sunflowers, foxglove, iris, glads?

But even more than the shopping, I enjoy the fellowship. I love talking with vendors who are connected with the Earth in a way I am not, and who truly care about the quality of what they're selling. And there are the other shoppers who passed up a once-a-week chance to sleep in. We’re all in the same Saturday morning frame of mind, and I hardly ever fail to run into a good friend I've missed talking with lately.

It's life in a small town, and it's good for the soul.

But it's also about living a life of abundance. I feel rich when I get home with my purchases, my mind filled with more potential recipes than I can possibly make in a week. I know I am blessed to live in a society of abundance.

Jesus said, "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly." (John 10:10, NASB) My faith in Him is not just a ticket into Heaven. It's the way I want to live, and He says life shouldn't be a sad affair, spent trudging through however many days we're given. Instead, it should be like the Farmer's Market - rich and flavorful, filled with vibrant color, sweet fragrances, wonderful surprises, and the very best each season has to offer.

Come Near

A friend I don't even know gave me this card 11 years ago, and I keep it taped to my bathroom mirror. This is how I try to live my life, one day at a time. You'd think, after 11 years, that I wouldn't have to recite the mantra every single day. But that's how life is - you get up and start all over again, doing the best you can do. Some days it works and some days it doesn't. But you can't let that stop you, because tomorrow's a new day ... a new chance to come near to God.

Just One Thing

I'm a writer. It's what I get paid to do, and I love that. But the other professional writers I know (and admittedly, I don't know a lot) all seem to believe they have a novel inside, just begging to be written. At the very least, they have blogs to keep the creative juices flowing. One copywriter I ran across posts the remnants of his dreams each morning as a writing exercise. Now that’s scary.

I don't know why I want a blog. It’s not like I need one more thing to do every day. Perhaps it's just my little slice of the web. Or maybe it will be my writing exercise too, because I'm pretty sure there's no novel lurking inside. But here was my original idea...

Christian comedian Chonda Pierce says her sister-in-law tells her to pray each day for "just one thing." One touch, one moment when you know you have collided with the Hand of God. One thing that will let you know that God knows where you are. When I first read that I thought it was a pretty neat idea, because there are many days when I am so self-involved that I'm just not aware of His presence like I should be. So I tried it ... and it works. Maybe I'll post some of my "things" here, as little notes of encouragement along the way.

I'm also big on lyrics, so there might be some of those. Or my blog may just be a personal outlet, my electronic journal. In any case, it is what it is, and I'm ok with that.