Egape = Electronic Love

Lost & Found

2011-06-16T23:18:00.004-04:00

"All who wander are not lost." - Tolkien

I can’t remember ever being lost, geographically speaking. It’s not that I have a great sense of direction, because trust me, I don’t. If you ask me to point the way...well, pretty much anywhere...your chances of arriving at your destination will be iffy, at best.

And I know I’ve been in the wrong place at the wrong time on many occasions, not to mention the wrong place at the right time But genuinely, “Don’t know where I am or how I got here” lost? Not ringing a bell.

Now, there have been many times when I’ve marched to the beat of a different drummer and ended up in trouble as a result… Take the time I took my three-year-old sister, Ellen, for a walk around downtown Bethesda, Maryland. My Mom, Dad, Ellen, and I, plus my Granna and Granddaddy, were visiting my Uncle Flinn and Aunt Courtney, who lived in Bethesda at the time. And I guess I got bored, because I decided it would be a fine idea to take Ellen on an adventure. (Poor Ellen is 7 years younger than I, and when we were growing up that usually made her an easy ~~target~~ accomplice, willing or not.)

But this particularly day my intentions really were honorable when I said, “Granddaddy, I’m taking Ellen for a walk, ok?” He gave me his sweet smile and his blessing (or so I thought) and said, “Ok.”

So off we went. I can’t tell you how many city blocks we covered, but I guess we were gone a long time in “grown-up minutes” because when we got back to the house, everyone was very excited—yes, that’s the word—EXCITED to see us.

It turned out Granddaddy forgot I told him what we were up to or, more likely, just plain didn’t hear me. Either way, I was in big trouble. See how happy everyone (ok, just Ellen) looks in this picture, taken after our homecoming? Recognize the look on my face, front right?? But my point is that I was never lost. I knew exactly what I was doing (if not where we were going), I had an alibi (albeit one with poor hearing), and I held her hand the whole way (which should have counted for something).

Then there are other, less dramatic trips, when I start out knowing where I’m going and stay the course the whole way, only to arrive without a clue as to how I got there. Ever get in your car to go to work (before that second cup of coffee) and when you get there you only have a vague recollection of driving the last couple of miles? Or worse, you can’t remember whether the light was really green at the last intersection? (Disclaimer: If you’re my friend Trooper Claude, I’m not sayin’ this has ever happened to me…ever hear of “literary license?”) Anyway, it’s not a good thing, being lost in thought while you’re driving. But it’s not the same as being lost.

Now I have a GPS and the chances of my getting lost are even less. If I even think about wandering off course, I get the “RECALCULATING” message, obviously recorded with a big sigh and a disgusted eye roll. In fact, with the exception of the time I was in downtown Pittsburg, driving in circles around super tall buildings, my GPS hasn’t let me down. And the best part? I don’t have to fold it like a map!

Did I mention I love my GPS? It’s true, but as much as I love my Garmin, I love my internal GPS – God Positioning System, a.k.a. the Holy Spirit – even more because it’s never let me down. Oh, I may have turned down the volume on occasion, or let my battery run down, but those are user errors. If I’ll stay tuned into His voice and focus, listening to the exclusion of all of the distractions around me, I’ll always be heading in the right direction.

Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it." (Isaiah 30:21 NIV)

And on top of that, I have my map – His word…

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path. (Psalm 119:105)

…and my personal navigator – Jesus Christ.

For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost. (Luke 19:10)
The truth is, I HAVE been lost, spiritually speaking….but I’m not anymore, and for that I’m eternally grateful.

Note: This post is in memory of my Dad, my Granddaddy Settle, and my Uncle Flinn...I miss them all so very much.

Heartbroken

2011-05-28T22:06:00.011-04:00

No one I know would argue when I say it’s been one stormy spring. In fact, it seems we’ve had more than our fair share of severe thunderstorms, complete with damaging hail and devastating tornadoes not typically seen in this part of the country. You could say we're weather weary.

The weather's made us a little jumpy, too. We head home from work, school, and ball fields with one eye on the sky, watching for lightening and unusual cloud formations, ready to pull over and dive into a ditch if necessary. Most of us now know where the safest places in our homes are in the event of a tornado and, if you live in the country like I do, you’ve laid up supplies of water and batteries.

In Brumley Gap, I’ve lost electricity for 12+ hours on at least three occasions in the last month alone. And when your water comes from a well, no power means no water, either. Of course, life without lights, showers, DirecTV, and, heaven forbid, high-speed internet is really just an inconvenience. Yet, if I’m being honest here, it makes me cranky. Embarrassing, but true.

David Crigger

But before you say I’ve lost all perspective, I know that my inconvenience is someone else’s nightmare. I watch the news and it’s been horrific. According to NOAA News, “April 2011 set a new record for the month with 875 tornadoes that killed 361 people,” some of them close to home in Southwest Virginia and East Tennessee. On Sunday, May 22, 2011, an EF-5 tornado hit the city of Joplin, Missouri, leaving an estimated 132 people dead and 750 others injured, with 156 unaccounted for in Joplin. And on May 24, 2011, deadly tornadoes claimed 18 additional lives in Oklahoma, Kansas, and Arkansas.

These are unimaginable statistics that I can hardly comprehend. And that’s not all. Tsunamis…earthquakes…mudslides…wildfires…not to mention acts of terrorism…all can easily overwhelm me with reports of suffering, death, and devastation. The news can be mind-numbing, and I sometimes worry that it will numb my very heart and soul, as well.

And then there are the disasters that don’t make the news…lives imploding in drug and alcohol addiction, child abuse, cancer diagnoses, divorce, and financial ruin, just to name a few. These are the everyday disasters that drop like bombs all around us and threaten to shatter our worlds and shake the very foundations of our faith.

So how do I process all of this bad news, much less respond, as a Christian?

Well, I’ve been praying lately that God would break my heart for what breaks His. It’s not that I’m inviting heartache; I just don’t want to be numb. It feels like a good first step.

I've also been trying to come to terms with the fact that He looks upon the heart:

“The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” ~ 1 Samuel 16:7 (NIV)

I know this scripture, taken from the story of Samuel trying to figure which of Jesse’s sons God had in mind to be Saul’s successor as the next king of Israel, is more about physical appearances. But haven’t our “things” become a reflection of who we are, at least in this world?

So if all of the “stuff” that makes up my life was destroyed, what then? Could my heart stand alone? If everything in this world is stripped away, leaving only my heart, isn't my relationship with Jesus all that really matters in the end?

Ultimately, as heartsick as this world and its disasters may leave me, I want to focus on people’s hearts, and who they belong to. And to do that I have to be heartbroken. It's the only way my heart can truly reflect the love of Jesus to people who are hurting for His mercy and grace.

As He Leads Me

2010-07-30T16:29:00.001-04:00

It’s a rare thing for me to take a day off for no reason at all, and even more remarkable for Larry and I to have the same day off. But however unusual, it happened that way two Mondays ago and we set out for the mountains of North Carolina.

Our first stop was lunch at one of my favorite places – Café Portofino in Boone. How can you go wrong when the theme is garlic? I have a history of good memories at Café Portofino, and suggest you make some there, should you find yourself in Boone, NC. I’ve shared some great meals with friends, and recently with family celebrating Ben’s graduation from ASU. But this particular day it was just the two of us, and we lingered a long time over our bianca bread, pizza, and lemon blueberry cake.

When we couldn’t stretch lunch out any longer, we took off for Grandfather Mountain, where I hadn’t been since my children were small. It was a beautiful afternoon, with glorious, far-reaching views. I’d forgotten how breezy and cool it is on top of the mountain, and how fluid the mile high swinging bridge feels under your feet, much like being on a boat.

Still, the bridge didn’t frighten me. There were rails along the sides and I watched the crowd crossing without plunging to a tragic demise for several minutes before we started across. But when we got to the other side and I realized the plan included hiking up the rock face to the top, hesitancy crept in, along with all sorts of excuses to stay put. I have a bad knee, and my balance was never all that great, even with two good knees. And to be honest, I’m not as flexible as I used to be. But I’m also not as fearful as I’ve been in the past, either. So I took off my flip-flops (causing Larry some concern) and made like a not-so-nimble mountain goat, my hand in his, one step at a time.

I quickly discovered that my best bet was to keep my eyes on Larry's back and on the rock just beyond my bare feet, rather than taking in the panoramic views all around me as I climbed. Sometimes I would have to step down to get a good foothold before I could move any farther up, and at least once I had to take a step back and re-evaluate my path. But for the most part, I just trusted my faithful guide to lead me on.

When we got to the top, the two of us sat on a flat rock for the longest time, just taking in the view and enjoying God’s creation in HD. I never cease to be amazed by His imagination! When we finally started back down to the bridge, we worked our way back along the rocky course slowly, him leading the way and me following close behind, molding my feet to the rocks.

It was on the way down that it occurred to me: This is the way I should be living my life every single day, eyes on Jesus as he leads me safely along the paths of my life.

Oswald Chambers wrote,

“We have an idea that God is leading us to a particular end, a desired goal; He is not. The question of getting to a particular end is a mere incident. What we call the process, God calls the end….God's training is for now, not presently. His purpose is for this minute, not for something in the future. We have nothing to do with the afterwards of obedience; we get wrong when we think of the afterwards. What men call training and preparation, God calls the end. God's end is to enable me to see that He can walk on the chaos of my life just now. If we have a further end in view, we do not pay sufficient attention to the immediate present: if we realize that obedience is the end, then each moment as it comes is precious.”

I can’t look off into the future too far or I’ll surely misstep and likely fall. I may have to step down some days in order to eventually climb higher – my life course isn’t designed to be level, as much as I’d like it to be. And sometimes I may even have to step backward because I've let go and wandered off the path. Or I might be called to reach back and help a friend or family member over a tough spot. But I believe if I’ll just keep my hand in His and continue putting one foot in front of the other, He will be faithful to lead me over the rocks and level ground alike.

“When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, ‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.’” ~ John 8:12

Breaking Bread

2010-01-23T20:20:00.022-05:00

One day in the not so distant future I’m going to figure out just how many breakfasts we’ve delivered through our church’s New Hope Outreach Center. I can’t even recall what year we began, thanks to the efforts of Missy Sarver and a handful of faithful volunteers, but it’s been an adventure in ministry every step of the way.

We started out with the idea of serving people who, in theory, would come to Pleasant View UMC weekly for a hot meal and other services we might provide. But God quickly turned that idea upside down and showed us that we were to go out into our mission field, meeting people where they were, and feeding them not only breakfast every Saturday morning, but also fellowship, encouragement, and the gospel of Jesus Christ.

To my knowledge, we’ve only had to abandon our efforts two Saturday in many years, and both of those were due to winter weather. We’ve shared Christmas greetings from the children in our church, cards from our kitchen team, and countless smiles and hugs from our dedicated delivery teams.

I’ve written about this ministry here before, but I was on the schedule to cook this morning and for some reason I felt compelled to document it from the kitchen. Maybe someone reading needs to know what we’re all about, so here it is, with apologies for the poor quality of my cell phone photos…

This is Ellen. She always beats me to the church on Saturday morning and she's a sweetheart. She's smiling...really.

Typically she mans the oven and I take care of laying out the boxes and pantry food (i.e., fruit, oatmeal packets, etc.) Today's menu: Sausage, eggs, biscuit, fruit, oatmeal. We put together 30 meals at a time.

First we box 'em, then we bag 'em...we've gotten pretty good at it over the years. It's too early for me to be doing math, but here are 81 meals, ready to go.

Now we wait for the delivery volunteers to show up. There are six routes in Abingdon and Washington County. At 8:40 Ellen and started getting a little nervous (it's not good if our drivers doesn't show up), but they all came and here are some of their smiling faces. (My apologies to the others...I forgot to save three of the photos on my phone.)

Karen and her sweet mama, Betty were bound for White's Mill and Senior Drive.

David was heading toward Bradley St. and Washington Court!

And Robbie and Marty were delivering meals to A and B Streets and the big apartment complex! (Doesn't Marty look excited?)

"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'" ~ Matthew 25:40

Good Question

2010-01-23T18:56:00.007-05:00

Good Question

Even as I’m typing this, our church's youth praise band is taking the stage at Resurrection – an annual youth conference in Gatlinburg, Tennessee which, according to the website mission statement, “brings youth groups together for awesome fellowship and authentic worship, where the Gospel is proclaimed, and youth have a spiritual renewal and a closer walk with Christ.”

More than 12,000 people were at Resurrection last year...pretty heady stuff for a band of kids who typically play in our church basement on Sunday nights for a crowd of maybe 30 contemporaries. But this is more than just a performance; this is worship, and the opportunity to reach other teens – a lot of other teens – with the good news about Jesus.

Just writing about what they’re experiencing right now brings back a sweet memory of when my son Ben was in high school and playing with the youth band at that time. They also were privileged to play at Resurrection one January weekend and even got to meet Chris Tomlin backstage. I hope it’s a good memory for Ben, as well. In fact, both of my children experienced Resurrection several times, and it’s my prayer that those weekends were a big part of their faith journeys. Again, from the Resurrection website: “Resurrection lasts more than just 48 hours – it’s something that accompanies youth on their walk with Christ all year long.”

But back to this weekend, or actually, several months ago… Our youth band was sharing in a Friday night worship service at a nearby church when, as they were being called to the stage, the worship leader asked, “What is your band called, anyway?” They looked at each other, perplexed because they hadn’t come up with collective name, and Katie replied, “Good question!” So Good Question they became. And the more I’ve though about it, the more I’ve come to believe, as comedic writer Dave Barry says, “That’s a great name for a band!” Follow me…

If you’re in a band that’s all about the music, then any catchy name will do. But if you’re about lifting up the name of Jesus through your music, then you have to ask the question: Who do you say He is? It’s the only way to make a difference and it’s the only question that really counts in the end.

When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, "Who do people say the Son of Man is?" They replied, "Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets."

"But what about you?" he asked. "Who do you say I am?" Simon Peter answered, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." ~ Matthew 16:13-16

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. ~ Colossians 1:15 (NIV)

Perspective

2010-01-07T20:02:00.010-05:00

Southwest Virginia hasn’t seen a winter this cold and snowy for many years. We’ve been having the kind of weather that wreaks havoc with my heating bills and, not to get political, kills the whole global warming argument for me.

Weather like this demands that I change the way I think about everyday living. For instance, if it snows during the night will I be able to get to work in the morning? Will I lose electricity, and if so, how will I stay warm? What will I eat and drink in the interim? Once I have all of the questions answered in my head (Hannah’s jeep until she goes back to Radford…the woodstove and a beautiful load of dry cherry from Larry…canned food and bottled water, or wine if I’ve planned really well), I can rest a little easier. But in spite of the fact that we rarely think about food and shelter most days, it gets down to basics really quickly when the weather gets bad.

Virginians also have short memories, and forget how to drive in snow. The first really bad storm of the season came exactly a week before Christmas and it took me seven hours to make the 25 minute trip from work to home. At one point I’d been stuck on the bridge over the north fork of the Holston River for hours and I was down to less than a quarter of a tank of gas. I had one bar on my cell phone, my windshield wipers had quit working, and I knew the electricity was already off at my house. I was less than 2 miles from home, but it may as well have been 2,000. Eventually I took a leap of faith and made it to our friends’ house, where Hannah was, by taking the river road. I was there for almost 24 hours and can’t remember when I’ve been so thankful for a fire and friendship. You could say it changed my perspective.

On New Year’s Day I had another perspective altering experience, this time the result of a conversation I had with my friend Steve. Regular readers will remember Steve, who bikes around the country witnessing to Jesus’ love and faithfulness to everyone he meets. I’m always a little ashamed of my self-centeredness and the ease with which I take the gifts in my life for granted when I talk with Steve. But it’s never because he makes me feel that way. In fact, he’s always truly glad to hear from me or see me, and, because he loves to talk, he usually fills our conversation with praises to God for blessings I would surely miss…a new bike and cart in which to carry all of his earthly belongings…an extended stay in a shelter in Dalton, Georgia….a network of friends who keep track of him and his travels, and who keep him in their hearts and prayers.

I’m thankful to be in that network, because I have a connection with Steve now and always want to know how he’s doing. But selfishly, I’m also thankful for the perspective knowing him gives me. I have much but am often ungrateful, while he has little, and is always grateful.

So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness. – Colossians 2:6-7 (NIV)

Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful. And pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ… – Colossians 4:2-3 (NIV)

Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for our "God is a consuming fire. – Hebrews 12:28-29

Father God, please continue to bless Steve richly, giving him food and shelter in the cold weather, strengthening his faith, opening the door for him to share your message...and Lord, please shake up my perspective anytime you see fit.

Falling Back

2009-10-31T14:44:00.008-04:00

Tomorrow may just be my favorite day of the year—Fall Back Day. In fact, when I woke up yesterday my first thought was, “Is it possible to take my “fall back hour” two days early?”

Our lives are so jam-packed, crammed full, insanely busy…what could be better than an extra hour in our days? One minute we think we’re in control and the next everything feels like it’s spinning out of control. What’s wrong with this picture? Surely this isn’t what Jesus intended by a more abundant life?? So I’ll gladly take that extra hour (or 60 minutes, or even 3,600 seconds, however you choose to look at it) and I’ll spend it a hundred different ways in my mind…then I’ll sleep in an extra hour tomorrow morning.

I think time is fascinating because our time in this world is limited. We don’t know how long we have, and we don’t have the same number of days. In his book, Becoming Real , Steven James writes, "As far as we know, we’re all the same age. Not that all of us are the same distance from birth, but we are the same distance from death." The time we’re given is absolute, with a beginning and ending and a middle that, for the most part, is ours to make the best of.

A friend recently asked me this question: “If you could go back in time to when you were 18 and give yourself one piece of advice, what would that advice be?” Assuming I’d actually take my own advice (a big assumption when you’re 18 and know everything), I’d tell myself to let God use everything in my life for good, and I do mean everything.

I’ll turn 50 next year, and looking back now I can see that my life so far has been one long string of teachable moments. Some of those have resulted in valuable lessons I’ll draw on for the rest of my time here. Others, unfortunately, were painful to no avail, their usefulness lost on me, and thus lost for God’s purposes.

The truth is that I wouldn’t go back to being 18 for anything. And I wouldn’t change my life, even if I could. The road's not always easy, and occasionally it’s just plain hard. Sometimes that’s just life, while other times it’s a consequence of my hard-headedness.

But God is faithful, and I’ve learned that He can use my everything for His glory, if I’ll only let Him. So my goal now is to give it all to Him – good and bad alike. After all, he gave it all for me, and how sad it is when we let our suffering all be for naught. That’s a victory I’m not willing to hand over to the enemy.

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." ~ 2 Corinthians 12:9 (NIV)

When I woke up yearning for that extra hour yesterday, Steven Curtis Chapman’s new song, Heaven Is the Face , was playing on the radio. I lay in my bed, overwhelmed by all this man and his family have been through and how he is letting God use their pain to further His kingdom. Here’s a description of the new album, Beauty Will Rise (available 11.33.09), taken from www.stevencurtischapman.com:

“Created in the past 10 months in the walk through the darkness of the loss of his daughter Maria, and while God continues to meet him there on the journey…part lament, part praise, part grief, part hope, part wrestling, part pondering…these tracks resonate as Steven’s personal psalms.”

Don’t misunderstand me; I’m not looking to be a martyr. But I do want to live my life as a book of personal psalms, singing about the journey from the mountains to the valleys, and everywhere in between.

“Heaven is our home. Let’s live like it.” ~ Steven James

Overflow

2009-09-05T18:56:00.009-04:00

Here I bring my stains and crowns
Gentle river wash me now
Your love is deeper than I know
Your ways higher than I can go

Lead me in Your holiness
I will follow, I confess
Glory is the song I sing
Your life is living me

And where would I be
Without You, without You?
Where would I be
Without You?

I will bow before the cross
Cherish my Redeemer's cost
There is nothing I can do
But only stand amazed by You

Mercy new with every day
Wrapped up in Your arms of grace
Nothing more, You're all I need
Your life is living me

Like a waterfall
You fill my heart and overflow
Like a candle flame
You light my way
And lead me as I go

Spirit overflow
Let me overflow

Chris Tomlin

Photos of Cascades Recreation Area in the Jefferson National Forest, Pembroke, Virginia by Hannah Link

Open up the Sunroof

2009-08-28T19:49:00.007-04:00

Yesterday I helped Hannah move back into her dorm, and it was a bittersweet day for me. On the one hand, I missed her before I even drove off campus. I enjoyed her company at home this summer, and I can say with a glad heart that she’s my friend, as well as my daughter. The house seems very quiet and still tonight.

But on the other hand, when I told her goodbye I knew I wouldn’t want it any other way. During the drive back to Abingdon I was thinking how much easier it was to leave her there this year, knowing she’s going to be just fine. I was pretty sure she’d be okay last year…but you’re never 100 percent sure, you know?

As I was heading south into the sunset on I-81, tired but thankful for the day, I opened my sunroof to get some fresh air. While I cruised along, deep in thought, I would occasionally smell something that would pull me into the moment. That’s just part of the fun of having a sunroof. Sometimes you get a wonderful fragrance, like freshly cut hay or wild honeysuckle. Other times it’s not so pleasant, like when a trucker burns up his brakes on a steep incline, or when I pass that chicken farm between Staunton and Harrisonburg on my way to visit Mom.

Either way, when the weather’s fine and you slide the sunroof open you experience the trip on an elevated sensory level. You become part of your surroundings, rather than just passing through them. And last night it occurred to me that living is like that, too. It’s easy to isolate myself and watch life pass through the windows. I may get to where I’m going, but I’ll miss so much along the way…

If I make the effort to be open to life though, I can experience everything God has for me, and never wonder what I might have missed. He may even prompt me to take a few detours I never would have been brave enough to explore on my own. And even if it rains in my sunroof, like it did the other night while we were celebrating Hannah’s birthday in Carrabba’s, I’ll count it as part of the journey. God is good, all the time.

But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him. ~ 2 Corinthians 2:14 (NIV)

Super Sense

2009-06-30T23:02:00.015-04:00

A good friend with a fun sense of curiosity recently asked me this question: If I could have any one super power, what would I choose? (And yes, this was the same friend who asked me what my "warning label" would say.) He picked flight and I hate to be unoriginal, but that would be pretty cool. I mean, who wouldn't want to be able to fly, other than people afraid of heights, and maybe my mother?

Ultimately I dodged the question with a vague mention of Space Ghost Coast to Coast, who had really neat wrist bands that could shoot out all sorts of "rays," the most memorable to me being an "odor ray." (Yeah, this is how people with three wishes end up wasting them all in fairy tales...) But then I found this illustration, and I wondered if common sense might not be a more valuable super power:

"Let the wise listen and add to their learning,
and let the discerning get guidance - for understanding proverbs and parables, the sayings and riddles of the wise.

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge,
but fools despise wisdom and discipline."

Proverbs 1:5-7 (NIV)

Call it common sense or wisdom - it was precious enough for Solomon to ask for, and that makes it priceless to me.

WARNING(S)

2009-05-22T18:18:00.007-04:00

www.weblogs.baltimoresun.com

Ever wonder what it would be like if people came with warning labels?

Yesterday a friend asked me what my warning label would be, if I came with one. I know his intent was to provoke a short, pithy answer, but the question really got me thinking. (Hint: Don't ask a writer for anything unless you're prepared to read their entire answer.)

Would interactions between people be easier if we came with warning labels, or would those warnings reduce our relationships to polite but distant exchanges? Would we ever think it would be worth the time and effort to really get to know someone, or would we write them off based on their warnings? For that matter, do we already write people off based on labels?? (Hint: You shouldn't have to think on that question too long.)

When I tried to write my own warning label I couldn't help thinking of several other people I could write labels for much more easily. And while I'm sure my friends and family could add several more warnings to my label, I'm just thankful God already knows all of the warnings, including the ones I can't see for the "plank in my own eye." The even better news is, He's still working on me.

So, without further ado, here's my warning label:

WARNING(S): While generally proven reliable in tests, there have been reports of starting difficulties, particularly during early morning hours and in cold weather. If unit will not start, prime engine with 1-2 cups of coffee and wait one hour. There have also been reports of problems shutting unit off at night. This technical difficulty is easily remedied with a glass of milk and any book. To accelerate shutdown, place in bed and cover with a goose down comforter.

Due to age, unit is prone to overheating. When this happens, simply turn a fan on high or set the AC on low until temperature regulates.

This particular model may occasionally become discouraged, anxious, worried, or just plain weary. To remedy these situations, whisper truth directly into the heart (Isaiah 40:28-31, Proverbs 3:6, or Philippians 4:6-7, depending on its condition) and let unit rest as long as necessary. In case of hurt feelings, it may be helpful to remind her that she is, “God’s baby girl,” and treat her like the princess she is.

Finally, in rare situations unit may act impulsively, sometimes changing direction entirely. If this happens, simply hold on tightly and wait for emotions to subside. Unit should self-correct in due time.

NOTE: This model includes the following modules: Cooking, Wine Tasting, Love of the Arts (Books/Music/Movies/Plays), Creative Writing, Sense of Humor, Loyalty, Encouragement, and Ability to Drive a Straight Shift. This model is NOT equipped with the following optional modules: Diva Personality, Camping, Skiing (water or snow), Crafting, Money Saving, Gardening, Puzzle Solving, or Enjoyment of Sushi.

Photo #2: www.thewritersworkshop.com

Farmer's Market Finds

2009-04-19T19:13:00.004-04:00

Tulips, fresh spinach, and edible flowers (Redbud blossoms and Johnny Jump-Ups)...also chicken cacciatore and a bialy - yum!

Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land.
~ Song of Solomon 2:12 (NIV)

Lean Into It

2009-04-19T00:11:00.008-04:00

I had a big agenda for yesterday…a long to-do list that started with me delivering breakfasts from our church to nine families around town. It normally takes less than an hour to deliver my usual route, so when I pulled into the church parking lot I was already thinking about what great things I might find at the Farmer’s Market later.

Pleasant View UMC has about 100 people on 8 or 9 delivery routes that we cook breakfast for every Saturday, and to my knowledge we’ve only missed one Saturday (due to an ice storm) in almost 10 years. Different people cook and deliver each weekend, so occasionally wires get crossed and a driver will have to deliver two routes. Such was my fate yesterday.

After making several calls and not finding anyone who could come and deliver the orphaned route, I grudgingly said I would do it in addition to the one I was already delivering. I think my exact words to God and my friend Sue were, “I’ll do it, but not with a joyful heart!” Not exactly a picture of Christian action and humble service, but hey, I had things to do, you know? I had a plan.

Well, it turned out God had a different plan. Typically when we deliver meals, the exchange is pleasant and fairly commonplace. “Good morning…I've got your breakfast. So, how’re you doing today? Great? Glad to hear it! Let me know if we can do anything for you, and we’ll see you next week.”

The conversation, which I believe is often more important than the meal itself, isn’t always that superficial. After you deliver to the same people for awhile you get to know their stories…their needs…what kind of place they’re at in their lives. A lot of them are poor, lonely, elderly, or all of the above, and you grow to love them.

All the same, you don’t delve deeply every Saturday, and sometimes people don’t even open their doors. So it was an anomaly when, on my very first stop, I was able to share with Mary's daughter that if she would call the church office Monday, I felt sure our Helping Hands Ministry could help take care of the birds in the eaves of their house. The daughter was relieved to have a solution that might keep her 80-year-old mother off of the ladder. I got a big bear hug and a blessing, and my heart was immediately softened and changed about my purpose.

A few streets over, I was surprised to find myself in a lengthier than normal conversation with Jerry, whose daughter and son-in-law are moving into the area and don’t have health insurance. I was glad to share information with him about our new facility that just opened this week – The Wesley Clinic – created specifically to serve the uninsured on Fridays from 9-4 p.m.

When I arrived at Della’s house, a crew was mowing her lawn. She mentioned that she was glad to have them there, but she would have to go out later and sweep the grass off of her sidewalk. That might not sound like a big deal to you, but Della has a condition that keeps her physically off balance all of the time, and so sweeping is a big deal to her. I’m ashamed to say I tried to leave, and ultimately had to turn around on my way to the car, go back and ask for her broom, and sweep the sidewalk for her.

The highlight of my morning came when I stopped at Marie's house. We'd never actually met; I'd only put her meal on top of the freezer in her enclosed porch, per instructions. So when I opened the door and she was waiting for me, it took me aback a little. But her daughter and three grandchildren lost everything they owned in a tornado in Florida this week; two of their neighbors were killed. Marie knows they have everything because they have each other, but she still wanted prayer for her daughter, and after I prayed with her (is there anything so humbling?) she told me her life story, filled with pain and abuse and sorrow that ultimately resulted in a testimony that absolutely blew me away.

Early on in my deliveries yesterday I heard God tell me very clearly, “Lean into this.” ...In other words, don't just go through the motions. And to think that my plan would have had me fly through my deliveries yesterday and not truly offer Jesus to anyone.

So don't just skim the surface with people. Take the time to ask the hard questions, and really listen to the answers. Sometimes you’ll have a solution, and sometimes you won’t. But if you’re where He wants you and you’re open to His leading, He’ll do the rest.

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” ~ Isaiah 55:8-9 (NIV)

Mowing photo from www.swfwmd.state.fl.us/.../outdoors/mowing.jpg

The Promise

2009-04-16T21:48:00.007-04:00

God, who began a good work in you, will be faithful to complete it. (Philippians 1:6)

Out of Focus

2009-04-10T21:53:00.008-04:00

Somewhere between one Easter and the next, the cross tends to grow a little fuzzy to me. It’s not that my faith wanes, or Jesus’ sacrifice for me is diminished in any way. But we dash on to Pentecost, then through the Christian calendar to Advent and Christmas and before we know it, it’s Lent and we’re rounding the corner to Easter on two wheels again.

So tonight, as I knelt at the altar during our Good Friday service, I saw the cross move into focus like a slide projected on a screen in my mind. And I prayed the prayer author Anne Lamott freed me to pray every time I’m on my knees: “Thank You, thank You, thank You!” I want so badly to love Him more, to serve Him with abandon, and to let Him fill up the empty places in my heart that I’m so busy trying to fill with other things.

Besides a crystal clear image of the cross in my mind’s eye, I also left church tonight with a question that lingered from the shadow play our Youth presented. (And as an aside, they never cease to amaze me. What a tremendous loss for people who don’t see how genuine our kids are and how deep their faith runs.) The question on my heart tonight, taken from one of the Stations of the Cross, is this:

When have I carelessly nailed someone else to the cross?

Idle gossip that spreads like a wildfire...a reply that barely holds back anger...a judgmental heart that doesn’t see the big picture... It’s so easy to fall into the trap, and the worst part is that we don’t even usually realize we’ve done it. But there’s no justification. There’s only Christ on the cross, his heart grieved by our callous treatment of each other.

I want to drop my mallet and nails at the foot of His cross, and let His mercy wash over me like sweet spring rain. And I’m so very thankful that His cross makes that possible. As my friend Beth reminded me, “It’s Friday...but Sunday’s coming!”

For God alone my soul waits in silence, for my hope is from Him. ~ Psalm 62:1 (NRSV)

Ordinary Donkeys

2009-04-05T17:25:00.006-04:00

From Pastor Jim's Palm Sunday message...

Palm Monday

The donkey awakened, his mind still savoring the afterglow of the most exciting day of his life. Never before had he felt such a rush of pleasure and pride. He walked into town and found a group of people by the well. "I'll show myself to them," he thought.

But they didn't notice him. They went on drawing their water and paid him no mind.

"Throw your garments down," he said crossly. "Don't you know who I am?" They just looked at him in amazement. Someone slapped him across the tail and ordered him to move. "Miserable heathens!" he muttered to himself. "I'll just go to the market where the good people are. They will remember me."

But the same thing happened. No one paid any attention to the donkey as he strutted down the main street in front of the marketplace.

"The palm branches! Where are the palm branches?" he shouted. "Yesterday, you threw palm branches!"

Hurt and confused, the donkey returned home to his mother. Foolish child," she said gently, "Don't you realize that without Him you are just an ordinary donkey?"

All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away. ~ Isaiah 64:6 (NIV)

Palm Monday taken from Daily Wisdom, edited from Hot Illustrations for Youth Talks by Wayne Rice. Copyright 1994 by Youth Specialties, Inc.

Photo of Danny and Brandy, two ordinary donkeys, by my friend Johnna Hernandez.

Saints & Shamrocks

2009-03-17T00:16:00.001-04:00

When I was about 14 I decided I had to have a St. Christopher medal. I didn’t just want one; I desperately needed one. Nevermind that our family wasn’t Catholic and I didn’t have a clue who St. Christopher was. It was absolutely imperative that I have a medal memorializing him.

My parents, infinitely wise when it came to knowing the difference between wanting something and needing it, just ignored me. But my Granna and Grandaddy, on the other hand, believed it was their duty as good grandparents to give me whatever would make me happy (and possibly get me to pipe down) at the moment.

And so it came to be that I wore the likeness of St. Christopher on a chain around my neck the rest of that summer. It turned out he was the Patron Saint of travelers, which was ironic, considering I didn’t even have my license yet.

I’m not sure why I had to have that medal. C.A., my closest friend growing up, was Catholic and when I slept over we would occasionally go to Saturday night Mass just so we could go out later and sleep in on Sunday. That alone made Catholicism way cooler in my book than Methodism, but I really think I wore that St. Christopher medal more as a fashion statement, much (and I really hate to say this) like some Christians wear the cross.

I know this is true about Christians and the cross because once, while browsing in the Cokesbury bookstore at Lake Junaluska, I overheard a mother and daughter shopping for a cross on a chain. I’ll never forget this mother asking her daughter if she wanted a plain cross, or “one with the little man on it.”

The older and hopefully wiser I get, the more that story breaks my heart. I wear a cross most days, and it’s meaning is deeply personal to me. It’s a reminder of whose I am and who He calls me to be in the world every single day.

I have no idea what happened to my St. Christopher medal. It’s probably in the bottom of a dusty box somewhere in my mother’s house, but today’s not his day anyway. It’s St. Patrick’s day. Just in case you know as little about St. Patrick as I did about St. Christopher, here’s his story from Catholic Online, Saints & Angels:

St. Patrick of Ireland is one of the world's most popular saints. Apostle of Ireland, (he was) born at Kilpatrick, near Dumbarton, in Scotland, in the year 387; (he) died at Saul, Downpatrick, Ireland, 17 March, 461. Along with St. Nicholas and St. Valentine, the secular world shares our love of these saints. This is also a day when everyone's Irish.

There are many legends and stories of St. Patrick, but this is his story. Patrick was born around 385 in Scotland, probably Kilpatrick. His parents were Calpurnius and Conchessa, who were Romans living in Britian in charge of the colonies.

As a boy of fourteen or so, he was captured during a raiding party and taken to Ireland as a slave to herd and tend sheep. Ireland at this time was a land of Druids and pagans. He learned the language and practices of the people who held him.

During his captivity, he turned to God in prayer. He wrote, "The love of God and his fear grew in me more and more, as did the faith, and my soul was rosed, so that, in a single day, I have said as many as a hundred prayers and in the night, nearly the same." "I prayed in the woods and on the mountain, even before dawn. I felt no hurt from the snow or ice or rain."

Patrick's captivity lasted until he was twenty, when he escaped after having a dream from God in which he was told to leave Ireland by going to the coast. There he found some sailors who took him back to Britian, where he reunited with his family.
He had another dream in which the people of Ireland were calling out to him "We beg you, holy youth, to come and walk among us once more."

He began his studies for the priesthood. He was ordained by St. Germanus, the Bishop of Auxerre, whom he had studied under for years.

Later, Patrick was ordained a bishop, and was sent to take the Gospel to Ireland. He arrived in Ireland March 25, 433, at Slane. One legend says that he met a chieftain of one of the tribes, who tried to kill Patrick. Patrick converted Dichu (the chieftain) after he was unable to move his arm until he became friendly to Patrick.

Patrick began preaching the Gospel throughout Ireland, converting many. He and his disciples preached and converted thousands and began building churches all over the country. Kings, their families, and entire kingdoms converted to Christianity when hearing Patrick's message.

Patrick by now had many disciples, among them Beningnus, Auxilius, Iserninus, and Fiaac, (all later canonized as well).

Patrick preached and converted all of Ireland for 40 years. He worked many miracles and wrote of his love for God in Confessions. After years of living in poverty, traveling and enduring much suffering he died March 17, 461. He died at Saul, where he had built the first church.

Patrick was a humble, pious, gentle man, whose love and total devotion to and trust in God should be a shining example to each of us. He feared nothing, not even death, so complete was his trust in God, and of the importance of his mission.

Why a shamrock? Patrick used the shamrock to explain the Trinity, and has been associated with him and the Irish since that time.

So celebrate the good work of St. Patrick today. And remember: Green clothing? Good. Green beer? Bad.

Let the March Madness Begin!

2009-03-07T22:27:00.015-05:00

Congratulations to the Radford University Highlanders basketball boys, a.k.a the Big South Conference Champions! They beat VMI 108 - 94 this afternoon to not only win the title, but also a ticket to the NCAA tournament. Working their way up from 7th to 1st by the end of the season, they're moving on to March Madness for the first time in 11 years, and only the second time ever.

So well done to the Highlanders, from an old alumni. And Hannah and her friend Kaitlyn say, "WHAT WHAT!"

Radford bold and free, on to victory.
Hail our quest to be the best,
Tartan pride for all to see.
GO RADFORD!
Wave flags and sound the horns.
Hold the colors high.
Cheer our team on to victory,
That’s the spirit of ole RU!

Spring Cleaning

2009-02-28T21:08:00.012-05:00

www.thomasmichaelcorcoran.com

I grew up in the Methodist church but never observed the Lenten season until I was an adult. I'm not sure why that was, but I've since grown to appreciate Lent as my personal invitation to draw close to God again, and invite Him into the parts of my life that have become dusty, cluttered, or downright dysfunctional over time. The miracle of Easter is so much more real when I allow God to do some extra work on me during the six weeks prior to Resurrection Sunday.

So I went to our Ash Wednesday service this week and once again began my personal pilgrimage to Easter. I liked that Pastor Jim compared the cross he imposed on our foreheads to a “paid in full” stamp. But it also struck me that the cross is the great equalizer—a symbol of the debt of gratitude we all owe but can't come close to repaying. It may be the greatest irony of all, that the cross means I have a zero balance and, at the same time, that I owe Jesus my life. I call it the consequence of grace.

Sometimes I give something up for Lent; other times I don’t. Occasionally it seems more appropriate to take something up for Him, rather than lay something down. One definition I found for the word Lenten was, "suggesting Lent, as in austerity, frugality, or rigorousness; meager." While I understand the concept of sacrifice, it has to have a purpose. There's no point in putting something aside for six weeks just to pick it back up after Easter and go on as if nothing is different. The first Easter changed everything, and every Easter we celebrate should change us.

For me, the point of Lent is to make room for more of what He wants to give me. It's all about less of me and more of Him...a spring cleaning of the heart if you will. And the riches of His blessings promise to make this season of life anything but austere and meager.

"He must become greater; I must become less." ~ John 3:30 (NIV)

25 Random (Beautiful) Things

2009-02-15T22:45:00.031-05:00

Do you have a Facebook page? A lot of people have been telling me I “need” one. And I’ve considered creating one, if only to check up on my kids. But ultimately I tell my well-intentioned friends that I have a daily electronic prayer ministry to 600 people in the body of Christ, this blog, and at least 6 personal and work email addresses, not to mention my day job as a copywriter. So no, I don’t think I do need a Facebook page right now.

One of the Facebook features that the media has been fascinated with recently is, “25 Random Things About Me.” For more about the random things flash-phenomenon, check out this NY Times article:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/05/fashion/05things.html.

I can’t imagine coming up with 25 even semi-interesting things about myself that anyone else would want to read, but something that caught my eye in my dear friend and co-worker Nicki’s office space got me thinking…

Her husband has a calendar that’s 180º opposite of the “Life Is Good” merchandise. It’s called, “Life Is Crap,” and he sent her this particular page one day, presumably because he knows how much she loves chocolate (don’t we all?).

Anyway, it got me thinking, and I recalled this “Found” item. Some days are more beautiful than others, but I believe the beauty in life outweighs the ugly, and so I offer you, "25 Random (Beautiful) Things About My Life":

1. A living, loving savior who gave it all for me.

2. Two healthy kids in college, both of whom I’d choose to be friends with even if I wasn’t their Mom.

3. Music that has the power to lift my spirits and move my soul.

4. Friends who are always there for me.

5. A church that has been my family away from home for 20+ years.

6. My Keurig coffee "brewing station." (I confess, I'm a coffee snob.)

7. Overall good health that trumps the occasional aches and pains of someone my age.

8. My age.

9. People who read my blog.

10. The amazing ways God works everything out for our good and His glory.

11. The living word of God, “Sharper than any two edged sword,” that comes to my mind and heart at the exact moments when I need it the most.

12. The prayers of others.

13. My little Jetta that has made it up the driveway with flying colors (flying being the operative word) every snowy day thus far this winter, with the added bonus of heated seats. Yes!

14. Parents who raised me right.

15 Days when my gym workout actually feels good.

16. Movies (and Netflix).

17. A clear view of the moon and stars through the rustling trees from my back deck.

18. Birdsong on a warm February morning (and peepers on a cool March night).

19. A job where they pay me to write.

20. Co-workers who inspire my admiration (and my writing).

21. A stack of books waiting to be read.

22. Freedom in Christ and in the USA.

23. A hot shower in the morning.

24. The joy of giving to others.

25. The privilege of reflecting the love of Jesus to the people I encounter every day.

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ." ~ Ephesians 1:3 (NIV)

Photo #1 thanks to Hannah Link

Two Tales of Love & Laughter

2009-02-08T20:11:00.018-05:00

One night while Hannah was home on break for the holidays, I casually asked what her favorite Bible verse was. Even though she’s involved with Campus Crusade for Christ and in a weekly Bible study I didn’t really expect her to have a favorite scripture, much less be able to quote chapter and verse.

She promptly came back with, "Job 8:21: ‘He will yet fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouts of joy.’'"

I confess my first thoughts were, “Wow, she has one…but who picks anything from Job as their favorite verse?” I mean, come on…Job is the ultimate hard luck story that we all try to relate to when things aren’t going so hot in our own lives and we’re feeling really pathetic.

But then I thought, “Wow, how absolutely perfect.” That my daughter (the one laughing on the right) would glean this scripture and make it her own brought hope to my heart and tears to my eyes. What a girl.

I experienced another unique interpretation of a classic Old Testament story this weekend at Barter Theatre. (Spoiler alert: Yes, this is a short review.) Playing on the Main Stage now through April 18th, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor® Dreamcoat is sort of like the Bible on acid. After all, Tim Rice & Andrew Lloyd Webber are the same guys who gave us Jesus Christ Superstar. Here’s the “official” synopsis from the Barter’s website:

"A colorful, musical retelling of the Biblical story about dreamboat Joseph, his uncanny abilities and his designer coat, this family classic sings out to young and old alike with a fun score of wall-to-wall hit songs."

www.bartertheatre.com

If you’re a traditionalist when it comes to Biblical interpretation, you probably won’t be into this show so much. But if you’re open to creative costuming and music, and fantastic acting of course, by all means don’t miss this one. I absolutely loved it; what a great way to start Barter Theatre’s 2009 season!

In his Director’s Notes, Richard Rose explores the themes of dreams, family, and reconciliation in the play, and when you break it down, isn’t that much of what Jesus wants to be about in our lives today? We dream of being good enough to be accepted and, if we’re very lucky, maybe even loved unconditionally. The bad news is that there’s no way we could ever come close to being good enough and unconditional love has nothing to do with luck.

But the good news is, through Jesus we’re reconciled to God, all is forgiven and His love never ends. Welcome to the family! I say that’s way more than enough to “fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouts of joy.”

Some Serious Pruning

2009-02-01T19:52:00.011-05:00

Isn’t it funny how a 55º day in early May or mid-October can send us to the sofa with a blanket and a good book, but the same conditions in February are cause to celebrate outside? And if there’s a winter storm on the horizon, it’s all the more reason to get out of the house and enjoy a healthy dose of fresh air and sunshine. After all, who knows how long it will be before we get another nice day?

I’ve been waiting on a reasonably warm weekend to pick up sticks. I live in the woods (or, as Ben once announced in kindergarten, “I live in a big old forest!”), so when I say sticks, I mean twigs, branches, limbs, and what feels like the occasional log scattered around our property. They’re the victims of winter’s war, brutally slain by wind, ice, and wet, heavy snow. My yard is a battlefield, and someone has to clean it up.

So today I slipped on a light jacket and my gardening gloves, plugged into my iPod and set to work. For awhile I’m working with the music, getting into the rhythm of bending over, scooping up as many twigs and branches as I can carry, trekking up to the woods’ edge, and slinging them on top of the existing brush pyramid.

About 20 minutes into my work, this thought appears unbidden: God has been doing some serious pruning here. I start to dwell on that idea for awhile and the correlation to His work in our lives is hard to miss.

We’re promised in the Bible that there will be pruning. Just as He prunes the forest, He will prune His children:

He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. ~ John 15:2

Although His purpose is to produce an abundance of fruit in our lives, the pruning process itself is never pleasant. It often happens in the dead of winter, the seasons of our lives that are bitter cold and gray, devoid of color and growth. We hunker down and hope to make it to spring, but sometimes we can’t even see as far as then next warm day, much less to a whole new season of life.

But here’s the most amazing thing about winter… Even when we can’t see signs of life and the ground beneath our feet feels as though it’s frozen solid, God’s at work in us, His Holy Spirit coaxing new growth to the surface in our lives. His creation is stirring below my seemingly dead, limb-strewn lawn, and there is no doubt that this season of winter will end and spring will come. All of creation will glorify the Creator, and fruit blossoms will one day begin to appear.

In the meantime, I take a break from my now tedious chore and poke around under the leaves, looking for signs of growth where I know bulbs are buried in my yard. Sure enough, I find a tiny hyacinth sprout and I can almost smell the sweet fragrance it will share in April. I cover it back up (remembering this week’s winter storm warning), and keep searching until I find four hearty iris shoots. My heart is encouraged and winter storm or not, I know spring is on the way. As my dear friend Debbie often reminds me, “God is faithful.”

Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father;
There is no shadow of turning with Thee;
Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not;
As Thou hast been, Thou forever will be.

Summer and winter and springtime and harvest,
Sun, moon and stars in their courses above
Join with all nature in manifold witness
To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth
Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide;
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

Great is Thy faithfulness!
Great is Thy faithfulness!
Morning by morning new mercies I see.
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

Update From the Road

2009-01-28T21:56:00.006-05:00

Readers rarely leave comments on my blog, so I was surprised to get one recently about an entry from last August. It was an update concerning my friend Steve, who travels around on his bicycle with a few belongings and a big passion for Jesus. Jenny B. wrote:

hello. i met steve this evening and thought you might like to hear that he is just fine. he is staying in a work trailer (someone has set up), in a church parking lot in dalton, ga. he is still telling everyone he meets about Jesus. what a wonderful witness he is…he (very humbly) showed me a copy of your blog with his pictures.

I’m glad to know Steve is ok, especially since the very day I received this update was colder in Abingdon, Virginia than in Nome, Alaska, according to the local paper. He’s crossed my mind several times, and I’ve wondered how he was making it through the winter. So I’m grateful to Jenny B. for leaving her comment and thankful that our God is so gracious to allow our virtual paths to intersect at another signpost in Steve’s story.

But I also find joy and inspiration in Steve’s continuing witness to the people he meets...not only the people who hear about Jesus for the first time through him, but also the ones like me, who are challenged in their faith through his example. When I think of Steve, I’m reminded of these basic truths:

This life is about people, not things.
This world is not our home.
This hope that we have in Jesus is for life today and life eternal.

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. ~ Hebrews 11:1 (NIV)

Keep the faith, Steve.

Our Call to Prayer

2009-01-20T20:34:00.015-05:00

George and Laura Bush welcomed Mr. Obama and his wife, Michelle, to The White House before the ceremony. Photo: Andrew Councill for The New York Times

Inauguration Day, 2009. No matter who you voted for (or didn’t vote for), the day of a new administration has come. Former President Bush and Laura (how classy is she?) are back at home in Texas, and President Obama and his family are settling into Washington. It was an historic, emotional day, filled with symbolism and pride in the democratic process.

I couldn’t help wondering what everyone was thinking, from Sasha and Malia to George Sr. to Aretha Franklin (did you see that hat?). But at the end of the day, after the ceremonies, parades, and balls, it all comes down to this: Politics aside we are called to support our new President as we did President Bush—with fervent prayer, not only today, but every day for the next four years. As I heard Bishop T.D. Jakes say in an interview, "When he does well, we all do well."

Pastor Rick Warren gave the invocation as President-elect Barack Obama and President George W. Bush bowed their heads during the 56th Presidential Inauguration ceremony for Barack Obama as the 44th President of the United States. Photo: Pool photo by Pat Benic

I imagine President Bush is feeling “lighter” tonight, and I imagine there will be a point very soon when the weight of the Presidency will settle on President Obama’s shoulders like a ton of bricks (if it hasn't already). He can’t shoulder that responsibility alone. No man could. So let’s purpose to lift him up, that God’s will be done in him and through him.

...if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land. Now my eyes will be open and my ears attentive to the prayers offered in this place. ~ 2 Chronicles 7:14-15 (NIV)

Sasha approved of her father's performance. Photo: Susan Walsh/Associated Press

All photos from nytimes.com

Casting Our Nets

2009-01-19T22:31:00.008-05:00

It didn’t work. Writing about the word cast didn’t release me from thinking about it. If anything, it’s been on my mind even more than it was before my previous post. So here are a few more thoughts about casting…

The Old Testament was all about casting. Casting idols, casting pieces for the temple, and even casting spells are commonplace in the first few books of the Bible. But those examples don’t fit the definition I wrote about in my last post—throwing forcefully and with purpose.

This instance of casting does work:

As Jesus walked beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. "Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men. ~ Mark 1:16-17 (NIV)

A friend of mine tried her hand at casting a net while on vacation at the beach one summer, and she told me it was hard...

“Trust me. It only looks easy,” she said. “First you have to loop it around your wrist and arrange it just so, or you’ll end up tangled up in it yourself. Then you have to take aim with your feet a certain distance apart and turn your arm at the exact moment you’re flinging the net into the water.”

Not that I didn’t believe her, but I did a little internet research on my own and found this handy 9-step guide to throwing a cast net, should you ever need it. Personally, I’m pretty sure I’d starve to death before I ever caught any fish using this method.

My point is this: When Jesus called Simon and Andrew from their ordinary lives as fishermen to join him on the extraordinary adventure of a lifetime, I think he expected them cast their nets for souls with as much fervor and enthusiasm. And even if our technique isn’t perfect, we should be fishing with the same sense of urgency.

Let 'Em Fly

2009-01-17T18:28:00.008-05:00

Anyone who knows me well knows that this time each year the demands of my job pretty much eclipse the rest of my life. Any semblance of a social life, regular (or even irregular) workouts, clean bathrooms, and yes, blog posts all fall by the wayside as “the little marketing department that could” works long hours to meet our biggest print deadline of the year.

But I have a few minutes to spare now, and it seems only thoughtful to let my friends and regular readers know I’m still alive, if not kickin’. Plus, I’ve had a word rolling around in my head for two days now and I think I have to share it to get any peace. So here it is: cast.

Driving home last night I was listening to WCQR and caught the end of a live concert, part of Sparrow Records’ “New Faces, New Music” tour. I enjoyed the few songs I heard, but what really got my attention was a young artist who shared a little of her witness between songs. And that’s where the word “cast” comes in.

She said she’d never really thought about the meaning of the word until recently, when she looked it up and discovered it means to throw something forcefully and with purpose, hurling it away from yourself. As she pointed out, knowing the true definition gives this scripture a little more depth:

Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous fall. ~ Psalm 55:22 (NIV)

Too often we give our burdens to God halfheartedly, maybe because we don’t really trust in Him to deal with them for us, or because we intend to take them back in short order. In either case, how it must grieve Him to watch us staggering around under their weight. How His father’s heart must yearn to lift them from our shoulders and liberate us to be who He says we are. If you have children, you have dreams for them, right? More than any earthly parent, God knows our full potential (and our every shortcoming) and holds our futures in His hands. But we’ll never be free to follow His wildest dreams for us if we’re in bondage to our burdens.

He’s ready and waiting, so cast your cares on Him. Throw, fling, or lob them. Heave, sling, chuck them…shoot, catapult them if you have to! Just let 'em fly and don’t look back.

Time Is of the Essence

2008-12-30T22:26:00.036-05:00

I haven’t had a really good idea for this blog in weeks, most likely because I’ve been running around like a Jack Russell Terrier, my brain overloaded with holiday checklists and catalog copy, plus the details of a few other projects I have going (i.e., projects I’m behind on).

“Be still.”

This is how it usually works: On the rare occasion when God can get my attention (typically in my car, on the way to work), He’ll let me know what He wants to say through me and, if I’m especially attentive, how He wants me to illustrate His point.

“Be still, and know that I am God.”

To let everything else go and respond to this invitation is sweet relief. If you haven’t really experienced His presence recently, I highly recommend some “still time.”

But what happens if I don’t make time for Him? I feel “off”… not grounded … without perspective. And my thoughts are jumbled, like they were this morning in the murky slumber punctuated by the radio going off again and again as I kept hitting the snooze button. I was dreaming of New Years resolutions, making lists of all of my good intentions in my sleep. Later in the day I took a few minutes to read my blog entry from last December 31st and decided I’d already covered the topic of resolutions thoroughly.

I love the idea of a clean slate on January 1st, and I believe there’s some truth to the saying, “If you don't know where you're going, you'll probably end up somewhere else.” But I also believe every day offers a fresh start, and I hate the idea of people who are supposed to be living a victorious life being defeated by their own failed resolutions.

Further review of my blog entries this year reveals a “time” theme. The older I get, the more aware I am of the passing of time, and of my need to make the most of it.

You know how you see people in passing and ask them how they’re doing? Sometimes they say, “Well, I’m here….” Often I’m guilty of replying, “Well, sometimes that’s all we can ask.” It’s an offhand response, intended to be lighthearted. But while just existing may be enough for us on any given day, I have a feeling it’s not enough for God.

I also imagine it’s not enough for my friends Andy and Beth. Over the holidays Andy, who serves in the National Guard, received a phone call to join a unit going to Afghanistan. He will be leaving on or near January 12 and will be gone for a year. He told me, “I was expecting to get called up, but not this soon. It will be a challenging year, but with God, our family, and friends close by we will overcome the challenges that lay before us.” I admire what Andy's doing, and I'm thankful for the things he's willing to sacrifice—a year of his life here at home...a year of his marriage...a year of watching his daughters, ages 3 years and 14 months, grow up. Please pray for Andy and his family, and for the 54 soldiers of the 1033rd who have already left their families in Southwest Virginia and East Tennessee.

One of my favorite new bands is 33 Miles, and their latest hit—One Life to Love—includes these lyrics:

You only get just one time around
You only get one shot at this
One chance, to find out
The one thing that you don't wanna miss
One day when it's all said and done
I hope you see that it was enough, this
One ride, one try, one life...
To love....

So how does all of this tie into the New Year? Well if you’re like me, there are many things you’d like to do better in 2009. There are the things that are all about me: Get back to the gym, clear out the clutter in my life, eat healthier, read those books waiting patiently on my shelves, blah, blah, blah. Then there the things that might actually make a difference in someone else’s life…the “more” things: Live more, love more, and extend more grace to the people in my life.

The New Year is the ultimate do-over, but where to start?

"Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." ~ Psalm 46:10 (NIV)

Trust Him. He’ll show you the way.

Joy to you in the New Year!

Christmas Blessings

2008-12-24T09:39:00.006-05:00

I'm making my list and checking it twice this morning. And right after I finish my second cup of coffee ("Santa's Buzz") I'll be off and running toward the Christmas end zone.

Writing a rambling yet insightful blog post isn't on today's list, but I do want to wish you and the ones you love a Merry Christmas. I pray we won't be so consumed by busyness that we miss the gifts the Christ Child yearns to bring to our hearts today and every day: His abiding hope, incomprehensible peace, overflowing joy, and boundless love.

God bless us every one!

Entertaining Angels

2008-12-19T23:20:00.006-05:00

Hey, how does that song go again? Something about angels…on something...high…?

Actually, these guys—from L to R: Pastor Jim, Tony H. and Greg G.—aren’t angels at all, and I promise you they’re not high. They were just good-natured enough to let the kids dress and accessorize them at last weekend’s Birthday Party for Jesus. I thought they looked heavenly.

This picture (which I promised Jim I would post) is also a good reminder to keep a sharp eye out for angels among us. You never know when or where one might turn up…just when you least expect him and most need him.

"Keep on loving each other as brothers. Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it."
~ Hebrews 13:1-2 (NIV)

Snow Days

2008-12-15T21:52:00.006-05:00

There’s nothing much more exciting to a kid that waking up to a fresh blanket of snow on the ground. And if it gets you out of school that day, then all the better. In fact, I was once informed by my Hannah that snow on a weekend or holiday is just a waste.

Little kids can’t wait to get out and play in the snow…then come back inside to warm up…then go back out to build a snow man…troop back in for lunch…head back out sledding…drag in for hot cocoa and to dry out… The whirlwind of coats, scarves, hats, earmuffs, gloves, mittens, and boots is dizzying. I imagine snow days are hard on stay-at-home parents.

Teenagers, on the other hand, embrace a snow day like their pillow as they crawl back into their cave-rooms for another five or six hours of sleep. It’s a little like a bear deciding hibernation isn’t over yet, and they can be just about as grouchy. They’ll even tell you their brains are hard-wired to need more sleep, but I’m not buying it.

I remember being at Radford, where falling snow triggered much giddy celebration and general craziness. Of course, it doesn’t take much to get the festivities going on a college campus. My son Ben is actually taking a skiing class for college credit at ASU next semester, so he’ll be all about snow this winter.

As you age, your opinion of snow continues to change and how you feel about snow as an adult typically depends on how likely it is to inconvenience you. When you get a real job, with all that usually entails—house, job, family, pets, etc.—snow can be downright annoying. I watch the weather with great interest these days, wondering if getting to work will be an issue and, to a lesser degree, if I’ll be able to wear jeans to the office tomorrow. Are we only expecting a “skiff” of snow, or should I lay in supplies, just in case?

Even for an adult though, snow on the weekend can be a manifestation of grace…a wonderful excuse to stay at the house and enjoy a rare chance to really rest before the work week madness repeats itself. A Saturday spent inside where it’s warm can be a blessing when you spend the day watching flurries in the woods outside.

Occasionally snow mirrors my life circumstances, like when I’m trying to navigate through a driving snowstorm that pummels my windshield like problems and worries that just keep trying to chip away at my faith. I feel like I’m hurtling through space, pushing through a dark tunnel …and the light at the end is nowhere in sight.

Other times I feel as though I’m living my life in a glass snow globe, subject to being picked up and shaken against my will until the blinding snow has me feeling my way around a circle of belief. I can’t see a thing, but if I hold firmly to my foundation the snow will eventually settle and I will be able to see again….maybe even more clearly than before.

My sweet friend Connie has a beautiful collection of nativity snow globes. We protect our childhood image of that first Christmas, fleshing it out in our imagination and daring anyone to suggest it may have been different. But Mary and Joseph likely felt as though they were blinded by a veritable snow squall of problems, with no shelter in sight besides a dirty, smelly stable. And the deity of their son demanded that they step out of their comfort zone and into the spotlight to share Him with the world. Talk about God shaking up your snow globe.

Connie once also confessed to me, “One step out of today and I’m in a world of trouble.”

I’m not urging you to step out ahead of God. But don’t be afraid to step out of your globe. Even though we may sometimes feel constrained in our own spheres of influence, that’s not our reality. True, we’re each dealing with our own problems, insecurities, and weaknesses, but we are not trapped inside glass walls. We’re afforded the freedom of moving beyond our walls to reach out and touch others with Christ-like hands. We are free, indeed!

“Like the coolness of snow at harvest time is a trustworthy messenger to those who send him; he refreshes the spirit of his masters.” ~ Proverbs 25:13

Wonders of His Love

2008-11-30T19:59:00.020-05:00

Life involves a lot of waiting.

There’s the day-to-day waiting—waiting in line at the grocery store, waiting in the doctor’s office, waiting in traffic, waiting for payday, waiting for our “turn...” Then there’s waiting on a larger continuum—waiting for our children to grow up, waiting for the tide to change, waiting for our ship to come in (a result of the changing tide?), waiting for answers to prayers, waiting for a new season of life…

During the crazy years when my children were younger, I often put off doing things, telling myself I was waiting until I had more time. For instance, I’ve been telling myself and God for years that I just wasn’t in a place where I could feasibly have an early morning, one-on-one devotional time with him. After all, I had to get kids to school, then myself to work. Plus, I’m really not a morning person…He knows that, right? But now I’m out of time, so to speak, and a few weeks ago He told me in no uncertain terms that 6 a.m. was going to be our time. And do you know what? He’s taking our time together and multiplying it exponentially. The blessings are flowing, and I thank Him for His patience with me all these years.

I’ve also passed up some opportunities to explore life over the years, setting them aside until I had more time. I was always on a mission down the beaten path, and the side roads had to wait. But this weekend my daughter and I took a quick trip to visit my mom and on the way we enjoyed a couple of diversions I’d put off time and time again. In Luray Hannah asked, “What is that huge tower we always pass?”

I didn’t know, so we took an extra half hour to explore the Luray Singing Tower, a majestic stone tower that houses a carillon of 47 cast bronze bells and is surrounded by public park land. Appropriate for the season, the inscription on the largest bell reads, “GLORY TO GOD, PEACE ON EARTH, GOOD WILL TO MEN.”

Before we got to Mom’s house we also stopped at Central Coffee Roasters® in Sperryville, Virginia. It was only 20 minutes from our destination and I had always wanted to stop there, but just never took the time. It would have been worth it just to breathe in the heavenly fragrance of freshly roasted coffee beans, but of course I left with a pound of Panama beans, as well.

When I was a child, Christmas seemed to be more about waiting than any other day of the year. My sister Ellen and I each had a stuffed Santa, and as soon as the Christmas decorations were unpacked I would ceremoniously prop mine up on my bed, sleeping with him curled in the crook of my arm until Christmas morning. I would whisper my secrets in his plastic ear and remind him of my wish list each night, as I waited with growing impatience for "the big day."

Now Thanksgiving is over, and I have no excuse left to put off my Christmas preparations. I don’t sleep with my Santa anymore, but I do put him out as a reminder not to cry or pout during the frenzied weeks ahead. And the older I get, the less Christmas is about Santa and the more it’s about the Messiah.

Today was the first Sunday in the liturgical season of Advent. Advent means “coming,” and as Christians we’re reminded to be preparing our hearts for His coming, once as a baby in a manger, and soon as the Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace that we so long for. Our annual celebration of the birth of the Christ isn’t just a sweet story we relive each year, but the past truth our future hope is rooted in.

Let every heart prepare Him room.

The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of the shadow of death
a light has dawned.

For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Of the increase of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David's throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the LORD Almighty
will accomplish this.

~ Isaiah 9: 2, 6-7 (NIV)

Overwhelmed by Thanksgiving

2008-11-25T21:12:00.009-05:00

I have a couple of dear friends who emailed me this week asking if there was a Thanksgiving blog entry in the works. There wasn’t, but I didn’t want to let my faithful readers down. So I started asking God for a heart message about this, my favorite holiday.

Oddly enough, what I got wasn’t a neatly wrapped blog about all of the reasons I am (or should be) thankful this Thanksgiving, but rather this one question: Why am I not more thankful the other 364 days of the year?

I revisited my Thanksgiving post from last November because I didn’t want to repeat myself, but I can’t help it. There are two perennial truths that are unavoidable:

1. "From each individual breath we take to our very lives, and everything in-between...it's all from God, and it's all good.”

2. “I pray we will all have thankful hearts, each and every day.”

It appears that change for change's sake is a bad idea when it comes to gratitude. I still haven’t answered the question though. Why am I not more thankful the other 364 days of the year?

I am glad every day for so many things in my life…so many blessings straight from the hand of God. But I know I could be still more grateful if I only recognized that all of the good things in my life—every good thing—is from God. They’re not by accident, and they're certainly not by my efforts. His goodness abounds, and it is almost too much to wrap my mind, much less my heart, around.

So this year my prayer for myself, and for you, is for an awareness of the gifts in every moment, and that we may be overwhelmed with Thanksgiving!

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. ~ James 1:17 (NIV)

Thank You

2008-11-10T21:52:00.021-05:00

Yesterday I met a remarkable young woman I see almost every day on TV. Rebecca Pepin is a local news anchor and editor of the book, Faces of Freedom—Profiles of America’s Fallen Heroes, Iraq and Afghanistan. This week we welcomed her to our church, where she spent some time sharing her story, and how this powerful book came about.

Rebecca’s story is compelling, particularly in light of Faces of Freedom. Born in Canada, she became an American on October 27, 2006. Gaining citizenship in the United States is not a quick and easy process, and she does not take her identity as an American lightly. In fact, I would dare to say immigrants who have earned their citizenship are far less likely than the rest of us to ever take it for granted.

The creation of the book itself is also an extraordinary story, and it was a truly collaborative effort. It profiles 52 fallen heroes—one from each state, as well as from the District of Columbia and Puerto Rico. Men and women from all branches of our military are remembered by contributing writers across the country. Many sponsors helped finance the endeavor, and all proceeds from sales of the book go to Fisher House Foundation and Wounded Warrior Project. Fisher House Foundation builds “comfort homes” on the grounds of major military and VA medical centers. Wounded Warrior Project strives to raise consciousness of the needs of military service men and women who’ve been severely injured in the line of duty, and enlist the public’s aid for these valiant servants.

But the most forceful stories of all lie between the pages of Faces of Freedom. Rebecca will tell you her goal was to put faces to the numbers of fallen soldiers…numbers we have almost become desensitized to as the wars have continued. Personal histories, letters, photos, family anecdotes… All of the signposts of young lives lost are here, and I am humbled and filled with gratitude as I read each profile.

In her introduction to Faces of Freedom, Rebecca writes:

“The primary purpose of this book is to raise money to benefit veterans, through Fisher House and Wounded Warrior Project, and to heighten awareness about the sacrifice and selflessness of our troops. These men and women are not just numbers. They were our friends and neighbors, and the loved ones of our fellow Americans. While only 52 fallen heroes are featured here, Faces of Freedom is a tribute to all that have made the ultimate sacrifice so that we—and our future generations—may live in peace, security, and freedom.”

So on the eve of Veteran’s Day, it seems appropriate to encourage you to visit Rebecca Pepin’s website—www.rebeccapepin.com—and, if you’re able, to purchase a book (or several). You’ll not only be riveted by the stories, but you’ll be contributing to two great causes. (Copies of Faces of Freedom would make great Christmas gifts, too!)

Rebecca also includes this wartime prayer from Eleanor Roosevelt in her opening comments:

“Dear Lord,
Lest I continue
My complacent way,
Help me to remember that somewhere,
Somehow out there
A man died for me today.
As long as there be war,
I then must
Ask and answer,
Am I worth dying for?”

It’s a powerful question on Veterans’ Day and everyday. I don’t know the answer, but I can at least say thank you to all of those who have served and are serving today, and their families. If you have the chance to do the same tomorrow, I hope you take it.

Photo 1: Faces of Freedom cover
Photo 2: Rebecca Pepin
Photo 3: Rebecca and Ruth McGlothlin, mother of fallen Marine Ryan McGlothlin, Lebanon, Virginia.

Election Day

2008-11-04T22:52:00.008-05:00

Election Day. What did it mean to you?

If you’re a school-age kid or a government worker, maybe it was just a day off. But if you were able to vote, I hope it meant your chance to exercise the freedom our founding fathers and soldiers have fought to ensure for you.

When it’s all said and done tonight, I don't really care who you voted for (even though I did think it would have been amusing for both sides to have a post-voting sticker that read, “I Cancelled Out Your Vote”). In fact, I told several people today that I just plain love Election Days. I would drive across three counties to vote for Dog Catcher!

The main thing is, you and I both had the opportunity and privilege to make our voices heard today by voting in a democratic election. That’s a wonderous thing, no matter which side you’re on. And ultimately, we’re all on the same side again.

God bless America.

Photograph: Getty Images

Waiting

2008-10-31T19:36:00.033-04:00

I have always had a thing for pumpkins. When my cousins and I were kids, my Granddaddy Settle would plant a whole field of them on his farm in Southside Virginia just so he could have the pleasure of watching his grandchildren run through the vines in autumn, seeking out their "perfect" pumpkin for Halloween. Naturally, when we were young the rule of thumb for picking a pumpkin to carve was size and, to the dismay of our parents, bigger was always better!

When I grew older and had children of my own, I enjoyed the pumpkin carving tradition just as much, but from a different perspective. I always urged Ben and Hannah to opt for a "friendly" face over a scary one, but truth be told it didn't matter to me, because it was all about them. We never had trick-or-treaters. Our house was too out of the way, in the woods up a rough gravel and dirt road. Still, we carved our Jack O'Lantern and I bought candy...just in case.

Fast forward a few years and everyone's older, meaning the kids have caught onto the idea that trick-or-treating in subdivisions is much more lucrative than trick-or-treating in Brumley Gap. We still carved pumpkins and bought candy. But after that we piled in the Suburban and headed for town. And I started buying more pumpkins, so when the Jack O'Lantern was compost I would still have bright, beautiful, firm pumpkins to color my world when all of the leaves had fallen in late November.

Tonight my kids are enjoying Halloween elsewhere. It is, after all, probably the biggest holiday on college campuses across America. Hannah is a ladybug and Ben is the dead guy from the movie, "Weekend at Bernie's." And I didn't carve a Jack O'Lantern this year. So my pumpkins, large and small, may just last until my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving. I bought candy, but as usual I've had no takers.

It's probably no surprise that, as a kid so taken with gourds, one of my favorite seasonal television treats was, "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown." Charles Schulz was a genius, and in his 1966 classic (which, according to the Wikipedia entry, preempted "My Three Sons" that year), the Peanuts gang celebrates Halloween minus Linus and Sally, who are waiting in a pumpkin patch for "The Great Pumpkin" to appear. Long story short, The Great Pumpkin never makes an appearance and Sally's not happy with Linus, to put it mildly. But he hangs tough, vowing that next year will be different. In one of my favorite lines, Charlie Brown tries to comfort Linus, telling him, "I've done a lot of stupid things in my life, too."

It may be a cartoon, but Linus’ vigil reminds me of our own, as Christians waiting for Jesus to return. At times it may feel futile, and yes, non-believers may even ridicule us, saying it’s a “stupid” cause. But I’m trusting in Christ’s promises. After all, we’re not talking about the Great Pumpkin, but the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords. So here are six ways the two differ. (Please, don’t send comments about how blasphemous this is. Just stay with me...)

Six Ways Jesus Is Different From The Great Pumpkin

1. You can’t “carve” Jesus into whatever you want him to be.

2. You can’t blow out his light.

3. He’s the vine, not the fruit.

4. He’s unchanging, unlike a pumpkin that grows, peaks, then withers away.

5. His seeds produce wisdom, love, and mercy.

6. He is coming back!

Like pumpkins, but love Jesus. And never, ever give up on waiting for Him.

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. You heard me say, 'I am going away and I am coming back to you.' If you loved me, you would be glad that I am going to the Father, for the Father is greater than I. I have told you now before it happens, so that when it does happen you will believe.” ~ John 14:27-29 (NIV)

Taking a Stand

2008-10-25T11:48:00.006-04:00

I live in place where you’re all but legally required to declare your allegiance to one of two colleges: University of Tennessee or Virginia Tech. So let it be known that I am a fan of my father’s alma mater, Virginia Tech (or VPI, as it was called back in the day). I tease my friend Debbie because she has a cozy blanket that sports the UT logo and colors on one side and VT’s on the other. She graduated from Virginia Tech, but is a big fan of the Lady Vols basketball team, and her daughter Sarah also recently graduated from Tennessee. So depending on who’s playing any given evening or weekend, Debbie can curl up on the sofa with the right gear.

These two schools never even meet on the football field, but the divide isn’t just collegiate. It’s a tale of two states, and Bristol is a city divided right down the middle of its downtown by State Street, where my daughter took this picture at the Rhythm & Roots music festival last month. Bristolians have to choose between living in Virginia or Tennessee, and sometimes the people even go so far as to buy their tomatoes according to what state they were grown in. (I’m not kidding.)

People take a stand on a whole host of personal issues, from coffee vs. tea (coffee, please) to mountain vs. beach vacations (since I live in the mountains, I’ll pick the beach). The church is especially prone to division on issues like contemporary or traditional worship, King James or NIV Bibles, and baptism by dunking or sprinkling.

And with a presidential election just days away now, the clamor to take a stand for the candidate or party of your choice is reaching a fever pitch. Obviously, who wins is important. But no matter who’s in the Oval Office, it’s who’s on the Throne of Grace that matters even more, Amen? That said, I received this list of “predictions” in an email recently:

TEN PREDICTIONS NO MATTER WHO WINS THE ELECTION:

1. The Bible will still have all the answers.

2. Prayer will still work.

3. The Holy Spirit will still move.

4. God will still inhabit the praises of His people.

5. There will still be God-anointed preaching.

6. There will still be singing of praise to God.

7. God will still pour out blessings upon His people.

8. There will still be room at the Cross.

9. Jesus will still love you.

10. Jesus will still save the lost.

I don’t know about you, but these truths give me some welcomed perspective for the next 10 days. So no matter who you’re voting for President, you can get out there and campaign for Christ, in your homes, workplaces, and communities, through word and deed. We’re called to run the race, and there’s no question that He’s going to win!

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. ~ Hebrews 12:1 (NIV)

Don't Panic

2008-10-10T19:07:00.009-04:00

www.nataliedee.com

What a week. You'd have to be living in a cave (unlikely, since you're reading this) not to be aware of our downward spiraling economy, and concerned about how it affects you. The stock market's wild swings have felt like a carnival ride, and the resulting media frenzy has been enough to make you dizzy with fear. I got off of the treadmill at the gym last night more stressed out from watching the nightly news than I was when I got on 30 minutes earlier!

I recognize, as well as any of us can, the magnitude of the problem. But I still have to believe the glass is half full. (Have you been watching gas prices this week?) It's a healthy and wise thing to be concerned. But the question is, where are you on the "anxiety scale" of 1 to 10?

Apparently the only AP file photos suitable to accompany bad stock market news are variations on this one, although this is the worst I've seen this week. No one wants to see the guy handling their retirement money making this face! All the same, as my friend Connie reminded me today, "Life can be hard and doesn't always go the way we think it will—yet Jesus is still Lord." She also said she's quit praying about finances, and instead is just praying for Him to grow her trust and obedience. That was a powerful witness to me.

She shared these thoughts with me in response to some lyrics and scripture I emailed to her earlier in the week. A few years ago Amy Grant put out a collection of old hymns done in a new way (I love those). It's called, "Legacy," and more times than I can count, when I've had a heavy heart, "Fields of Plenty" will come up on my iPod. Amy sings a couple of verses from, "Be Still My Soul"...

Be still, my soul: The Lord is on thy side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
leave to thy God to order and provide;
in every change He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: Thy best, thy heavenly friend
through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: Thy God doth undertake
to guide the future, as He has in past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
all now mysterious will be bright at last.

Sweet music, and a balm to my soul...and if that weren't enough of a reminder to trust God, Amy Grant quotes the very verse I cling to when I'm struggling:

Delight yourselves in the Lord, yes, and find your joy in Him. Be known for your gentleness, and never forget the nearness of our God. And don't worry, whatever's going to come...Just tell God every detail. And the peace of God that no one understands will come to you. No, don't worry...just tell Him every detail, and His peace will come to you." ~ Philippians 4:4-7

So yes...BE CONCERNED. But I just wanted to remind everyone that there's an alternative to panic. Because apart from Jesus, none of us really have anything.

Photo: A broker on ICAP's dealing floor calls for prices on October 9, 2008 in London, England. Peter Macdiarmid/Getty

In the Blink of an Eye

2008-09-28T19:41:00.012-04:00

Have you ever seen one of those little books with the illustrations on each page which appear animated when you riffle the pages quickly from beginning to end? I used to have one have that featured a dancing couple, and the idea that I could make them twirl and spin and dip their way through a virtual ballroom absolutely fascinated me.

If I could dig through my photo albums and find just the right pictures of my son, I imagine I could create a wondrous book of his life thus far, from infancy to adulthood. And I could make the pages from September 29, 1987 to September 29, 2008 flutter by over and over again, reliving memories that seem as though they were made only yesterday.

When you have babies, people far wiser than you are at the time (people who aren't sleep-deprived) warn that you'd better pay good attention, because the time will fly by and your children will be grown and gone in a flash. I'm a living witness to the truth of their words today, the day before my son turns 21. It's one of God's greatest mysteries, how we got from the photo of the toddler, just up from his nap (he was a wonderful sleeper), clinging to his beloved blankie and his last pacifier, to the handsome young man in his college fraternity portrait. My compliant child, he grew up in spite of me.

So happy birthday Ben. I love you, I'm proud of you, and I can't wait to see your future unfold. And don't forget what I told you when you were a senior in high school: Always remember whose you are.
Here are 21 more great bits of advice on your 21st birthday...

"Use what talents you possess—the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best." ~ Henry Van Dyke

"The best way out is always through." ~ Robert Frost

"Start by doing what's necessary, then what's possible, and suddenly you are doing the impossible." ~ Francis of Assisi

"Sometimes you've got to jump off cliffs and grow wings on the way down." ~ Ray Bradbury

"The first rule is to keep an untroubled spirit. The second is to look things in the face and know them for what they are." ~ Marcus Aurelius

"The only ones among you who will be truly happy are those who will have sought and found how to serve." ~ Albert Schweitzer

"Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart." ~ Psalm 37:4

"Overnight success takes a long time." ~ Stephen Jobs

"We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing." ~ George Bernard Shaw

"Do the ordinary things in an extraordinary way." ~ George Allen

"If you think it's hard to meet new people, try picking up the wrong golf ball." ~ Jack Lemmon

"Whether you think you can or you can't, you're absolutely right." ~ Henry Ford

"The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing." ~ Zephaniah 3:17

"Once the mind has been stretched by a new idea, it will never again return to its original size." ~ Oliver W. Holmes

"Where there is great love there are always miracles." ~ Willa Cather

"I never look at the masses as my responsibility. I look at the individual. I can only love one person at a time." ~ Mother Teresa

"But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not be faint." ~ Isaiah 40:31

"A ship in the harbor is safe - but that is not what ships are made for." ~ John A. Shedd

"The best things in life are free." ~ Cole Porter

"All things are possible with God." ~ Mark 10:27

"You are a child of your heavenly father. Your faith in His love and power can never be bold enough." ~ Basilea Schlink

More Is More

2008-09-19T20:32:00.023-04:00

I'm in a rut. I can't stop eating tomato sandwiches for supper, and it's all my co-worker Lisa's fault. She sent me a link to this website, and that was the beginning of my obsession.

See, I was raised on tomato sandwiches (along with cucumbers in vinegar, Brunswick stew, and fried oysters), so the website she innocently passed along was bound to strike a chord deep inside. We're talking comfort food...flavors that bring childhood memories rushing back to your mind...meals you'd forgotten could taste so amazing.

This week, my tomato sandwiches have been made of toasted sourdough wheat bread from the Farmer's Market, mayo, homegrown tomatoes (again, from the Farmer's Market), plenty of garlic salt and freshly ground pepper, and the piece de resistance—a melted slice of Provolone cheese. Lisa's recipe provided me with a revelation: Toasting the bread creates an entirely new sort of tomato sandwich, one that won't dissolve into a soggy mess before you can finish eating it—Eureka! And when I googled, "perfect tomato sandwich," I came up with a lot of delicious sounding variations.

My Granna Settle's tomato roll was a modification of the tomato sandwich my mother made. When my Granna died 11 years ago I grieved, among other reasons, because I would miss our long phone conversations, her unconditional love, and her yeast rolls. To enjoy one of her fresh rolls one more time, slathered with mayonnaise and adorned with a thick, juicy slab of tomato (courtesy of my Granddaddy, who annually grew enough tomatoes for all of Italy)...well, that would be a little slice of heaven.

Are you seeing a connection? It's so easy to get hung up on something that touches you deeply on an emotional level, and it's natural to want to keep evoking that same pleasurable response over and over. But there are two problems with the emotional connection...

First, you're bound to burn out eventually. There will come a day when I can't bear the thought of eating another tomato sandwich. And only time will tell if I'll recover from the excess, or if tomato sandwiches will be off of my personal menu forever.

The second potential problem with going overboard is that you may miss out on the present by focusing on the future. For example, what happens when the tomato harvest is over, and my tomato choices are reduced to pale, mealy imitations of the real thing? If I'm worried about that scenario while I'm eating my juicy tomato sandwich now, well, where's the joy in that? I suspect Peter experienced something similar during the transfiguration, related in Matthew 17:1-5 (NIV):

After six days Jesus took with him Peter, James and John the brother of James, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. There he was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light. Just then there appeared before them Moses and Elijah, talking with Jesus.

Peter said to Jesus, "Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah."

While he was still speaking, a bright cloud enveloped them, and a voice from the cloud said, "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!"

In other words, Peter thought, "WOW, this is AMAZING. If I can just get these shelters built, I can show everyone how the prophecy is unfolding and the Feast of the Tabernacles is being brought full circle the coming of God's kingdom, AND I can make the moment last."

But that wasn't the plan, according to God. He said, "Peter...STOP. This is my SON....pay attention to THIS moment!"

When my kids and their cousins were growing up, everyone I knew had video cameras, and countless childhood moments were immortalized forever in film (all of which now need to be transferred to DVDs). I didn't have a camcorder though, mostly because I just always felt like I would be trading the present joy of experiencing the moment for looking through a lens, worrying about lighting and background noise.

Are you enjoying the "here and now" moments God graces you with? Or are you worried about where your next homegrown tomato is coming from? Life is a series of moments, some incredibly special, some not so much. But that's life, and to spend all of your time looking ahead (or worse, behind) is just sad. So seize the moment, or "carpe momento!"

Photo 1: Tomato sandwich image by Elizabeth Passarella, www.thekitchn.com
Photo 2: My fraternal grandparents, Walker & Frances Settle
Photo 3: My nephew, Noah Secor

Turn, Turn, Turn

2008-09-07T18:46:00.019-04:00

This week, watching Sarah Palin electrify the Republicans at their national convention, I could almost imagine myself living in Alaska and being darned proud of it. But that was only an idle daydream, because I love being a Virginian too much.

I am glad to live in a state—no, commonwealth—that is rich in history…one of the original 13 colonies, and one that produced four of the first five presidents, at that. And, although we’re traditionally conservative, I confess I like living in a state that could go red or blue…a place presidential candidates will have to pay attention to, or else.

We stood with the South in the Civil War, but we’re not so insensitive we automatically assume you take your iced tea sweet. And if you’d you’re hungry for some local flavor, how about our seafood, peanuts, ham, apples, or Brunswick stew, just to name a few of our specialities?

Virginia spans the geological spectrum, from the majestic Blue Ridge mountains to the shores of the Chesapeake Bay, and everything in between. My father raised his garden in the red Piedmont clay of the same Virginia where my grandaddy made his living growing tobacco in Southside’s sandy soil. And I probably shouldn’t say this, with hurricanes roaming the Atlantic, but natural disasters are relatively rare here in Virginia.

Still, I think what I love the most about Virginia are its seasons. I can’t imagine living in a place where the months merge into one another with no clearly defined seasons. My favorite is fall, its warm afternoons filled with golden light filtering through jewel-toned leaves. The crisp nights, with frost in the air and crickets chirping, lend a sense of urgency to autumn…a warning to gather in crops, friends, and family before the cold of winter is upon us.

For me, the first part of winter is fun and festive, busy with Christmas celebrations. The rest of the season is in stark contrast—still and quiet, occasionally surprising me with billiantly faceted snowflakes and icy air that takes my breath away. Winter is a time to rest and regenerate. Spring is a tease, just as harsh as winter at times, but also giving glimpses of new life and better days for our winter-weary hearts. I celebrate Easter, the risen Messiah, and the colors begin to fill in the landscape. The promise is fulfilled, in our hearts and surroundings. Then, in a flash, summer is upon us, seeming to arrive unannounced and leave just as quickly. It’s a fast and furious season of activity, although I remember it being much lazier when I was a child.

Maybe my soul yearns for the structure of seaons because I recognize that they also make up the structure of our lives. We compare youth with “spring chickens,” and when we grow older we liken our lives to autumn, again with a sense of urgency to check things off of our “bucket list” before the winter of our old age.

But within the larger calendar of our lives are a multitude of seasons we travel through—seasons of learning, waiting, parenting, new endeavors, love, grief, perserverance, enlightenment, frustration, anger, joy—as many seasons as there are emotions, and more. Often they overlap. A season of waiting and grief may go hand-in-hand, as surely do parenting and new endeavors.

My children are in seasons of learning and new endeavors. In retrospect, I tell them these will be some of the best years of their lives, but I doubt they take me seriously. Oh, to be in college again, with a huge expanse of possibility stretching out before me like the horizon when you stand on the beach between the safety of the sand and the unknown that is the ocean.

My season of “hands on” parenting is finished, and the idea of that makes me sad. I threw myself into being a mother with my whole being for the past 21 years. But now I can not only look ahead to the next seasons in my life, I can also take joy in watching my children experience this season of their lives. It’s a double blessing, and I’m thankful for it.

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven." ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1 (NIV)

Note: Our Hannah has been asking to have her nose pierced with a small stud for the past year. I said no, with all of the parental advisement I could muster: "It'll get infected...You'll have to stick your finger up your nose, for heaven's sake...What about your first job interview? You'll have a scar!" But she turned 18 last month, and I think she knew, to tell the truth, that if that was the worst I had to deal with, I would be ok.

Time Warp

2008-08-24T19:05:00.018-04:00

Time flies, and so do our children (at least, that's the plan).

Happy 18th, Hannah Banana! Here are your birthday haiku:

Hannah Morgan Link,
We blinked and you're all grown up—
Our amazing girl.

"Hurricane Hannah"
Still taking the world by storm!
Heading to college...

Couldn't love you more,
Couldn't be more proud of you.
Spread those wings and fly!

"Our daughters will be like pillars, carved to adorn a palace. ~ Psalm 144:12 (NIV)

Homeward Bound

2008-08-18T21:25:00.015-04:00

This is my friend Steve. We met Sunday, when he visited our church, and I spoke to him again briefly Monday morning, when I took these photos of him heading out of town. It’s highly unlikely we’ll meet again this side of heaven, but I have no doubt I will see him there.

Steve is a pretty remarkable guy. After worship and over a cup of coffee (something he indulges in way too much), he told me he grew up in foster care, and admitted that he got into a lot of trouble when he was younger. But he also told me when, through the miracle of prevenient grace, he heard God calling his name, he answered yes, and it changed his life.

A changed life isn’t always an easier life. In this world, Steve is considered homeless. He travels around without an itinerary, riding his bike and pulling all of his earthly possessions, including his well-worn Bible, behind him in a small cart. He’ll be the first to tell you his life isn’t comfortable. Aside from the obvious hardships of his nomadic existence, people—even those who claim to emulate Jesus—can be downright mean. If you ask him why he thinks that is, he’ll say, “They don’t understand because they don’t know me. But I say, ‘I’m right here…take the time to get to know me!’”

In our Sunday School class Steve pointed out that there are a lot of people who claim to be following the Lord when they’re really not (and we agreed wholeheartedly). But he's also quick to point out that "Jesus is in everything." In fact, rather than asking for prayers for himself, Steve asked us to pray for a man named Dennis, a drug addict he believes God led him to for the sole purpose of sharing the gospel.

How can it be that we are living lives of such material abundance but are so oblivious to God working all around us? It’s incomprehensible when you consider this man, who has so little but is keenly aware of God’s presence in his life. Is it possible that the true meaning of abundant living is being made manifest in Steve’s life because he allows himself to be used for God’s glory, regardless of his circumstances?

When I asked Steve if I could take his picture he readily agreed, with one condition: that his “Jesus is Lord” plate be clearly visible in the photo. That was fine with me, but I’m not sure he needs that plate to let people know where he stands. In fact, I’m not even sure I would call Steve “homeless.” Just before he pedaled off toward Damascus, he told me he wasn’t too fond of this world. But as I reminded him…we’re not home yet.

Godspeed, Steve.

“But in keeping with His promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness.”
~ 2 Peter 3:13

I Had No Idea

2008-08-17T18:14:00.003-04:00

www.nataliedee.com

Guess who sent me this cartoon...

Can You Identify?

2008-08-13T20:47:00.022-04:00

When I set up this blog over a year ago, I created a profile and listed many of the hats I wear. At the time, I thought it was a pretty accurate representation of who I am, but now I’m not so certain... Sure, I’m a mother/daughter/ sister/aunt/friend, among other things, but that’s who I am to other people. Who am I in the grander scheme of things? Who am I to myself? Who am I to the One who created me??

In an ironic twist of time, my youngest child graduated from high school in May, and last weekend I attended my 30th high school class reunion. I had a good time, but I was struck by how predictable the interactions were between my former classmates. A lot of us had been to prior reunions, but some of us hadn’t seen each other in 30 years. Either way, the conversation inevitably went something like this: “So, where are you now? What are you doing? Married? And what about kids?”

Is that really all there is to us? I love where I have lived for the past 25 years, but there’s a whole lot of world out there that I haven't experienced yet. Shouldn’t I always be ready to pick up and go wherever God calls me to go (except maybe Africa)?

I will always love being a parent, and I hope Ben and Hannah know deep in their hearts that I’ll always be there for them. But a mother’s job description is constantly changing and, as any really good mother knows, if she's doing it right, she's working herself out of a job. With both of my children in college this fall, my parenting self will be taking a step into the background, leaving room for a new facet of my personality to catch the light.

And at the age of 48, I am comfortable (excited, even) saying, “I am a writer.” I graduated from Radford University with a degree in Journalism, and have always used some elements of my college training in my career. But it’s only in the past three years, working as an advertising and public relations copywriter, that I’ve been able to earn a paycheck doing what my diploma says I can do: write. Freelance writing and creative writing like this are the icing on the cake.

The fact is, it's easier to identify who we are during some seasons of our lives than others. And in retrospect, there is no pat answer to the question, “Who are you?” All of us are made up of different characteristics that meld together to create who we are. But without being grounded in something bigger, all of our attempts to accurately express our individuality will fail.

Before all of the other parts I play and list in my profile, I lay claim to being a “princess servant, a child of the King.” To know you are royalty and privileged to serve your Heavenly Father is an amazing and wondrous thing, and it gives meaning to all of the other roles that classify us in this world. Can you identify?

“And I will be your Father, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.” ~ 2 Corinthians 6:18

Good Intentions

2008-07-27T21:42:00.039-04:00

Whatever happened to the lazy, hazy days of summer? Ok, hazy still often applies during the summer months in these mountains of Southwest Virginia. But somewhere along the way the lazy days I remember so sweetly from my youth slipped away…

Yesterday, my nephew Noah’s Cub Scout Pack caravanned up from their somewhat more urban North Carolina surroundings and landed in my neck of the woods with plans to bike along the Creeper Trail from Whitetop to Damascus, Virginia. I met them in Damascus and brought my sister-in-law, Kimberly, back to Abingdon for lunch at Pop Ellis Soda Shoppe & Grill—the newest hot spot in town for lunch. After enjoying a couple of grilled pimento cheese sandwiches, we made a too-quick tour of the Virginia Highlands Festival ...just long enough for Kimberly to purchase the obligatory bag of kettle corn, which I suspect didn’t even make it to Wytheville on their trip home. Then it was time to head back to Damascus and meet the trail-weary boys (and men). Everyone made it off of the mountain in one piece—victory!

On my way home, I stopped at our local vineyard. I'd talked with friends about taking an after-work trip to Abingdon Vinyard and Winery, but we hadn't made it happen yet. So I took the opportunity to go on my own (hey, I was in the neighborhood). My only regret this visit was that I didn’t have time to take a tour and enjoy a glass of wine in the shade beside the South Holston River. At home later, as I was riding in my own personal rodeo, leveling my weeds (you’ll understand if you’re a regular reader), I thought, “This was a good day.”

Today was another good day. Filled with worship, music, and a sweet infant baptism at historic Madam Russell United Methodist Church in Saltville, Virginia. (Welcome to God's big, wonderful world Anna Marie Patman Petty!) My day may not have been lazy, but it was definitely another one to savor. Grilling chicken on my back deck in the cool of the evening, I recognized one of many differences between my childhood and my adult years: The days of summer don’t stretch out endlessly for me anymore, with absolutely nothing to do. Now there’s always more to do than I can get done. But to truly make the most of each day, I have to be intentional about enjoying all of the gifts God sends my way.

With my youngest heading off to college in a month, I’m making a vow to be intentional about some things I’ve let slide lately… I want to be intentional about writing, and that includes more blog posts. I want to be intentional about reading more good books, trying new recipes, staying in touch with friends, and enjoying the many cultural opportunities my community has to offer. I want to be intentional about seeing the BIG PICTURE. And I want to be intentional about listening to God and being available to Him, wherever He may lead me.

“Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.” ~ Psalm 34:8 (NIV)

Hope for All

2008-07-04T19:57:00.014-04:00
A traditional July 4th brings to mind flags, cookouts, parades, and fireworks. This year I was invited to a true red, white, and blue cookout at beloved matriarch Betty Dolinger's house, where family and friends gathered to enjoy each other’s company and count their blessings. I fall in the “friends” category, but I’m just waiting for the day when I discover I’m actually related, albeit distantly, to the huge Dolinger clan. In spite of the rain (which we counted as a blessing), there was much hugging and laughter, and I felt blessed to be there. I was especially humbled when the children climbed onto a bench, flags in hand and resembling Olympic medal winners, for us to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. And I was very grateful to be in the circle when we all held hands around the picnic tables and Betty gave thanks. God is good.

Earlier this week I was blessed to be part of a very different sort of gathering. Twenty-three Ugandan children, ranging in age from 5 to 12 and rescued from lives of poverty, visited my home church to sing and dance their hearts out to the glory of God. Hope for Africa Children’s Choir and Academy, touring the United States through the end of this month, was created when United Methodist Bishop Daniel Wandabula asked Lydia Namageme and Tonny Mbowa, both orphans once themselves, before being rescued and made part of the African Children’s Choir, if they would be interested in building a new African children’s choir. They both answered with a resounding yes, and Hope for Africa was born. Lydia Namageme, known to the children as Auntie Lydia, is the conductor and manager for the choir and school; Tonny Mbowa serves as the choir’s director.

There is so much I could say about these children, taken from refugee camps in a country that has seen Civil War for 20 years. Many have lost one or both parents, and all have seen much suffering. That they are in our country now, fed, clothed, and being educated and loved on by everyone they come in contact with, speaks volumes about God’s goodness, both in their lives and ours. Their performances are amazing; they practically vibrate with excitement while they’re singing God’s praises and dancing for Him. They each have a personal testimony, and they all have high aspirations for the future. These children know exactly what they want to be when they grow up, and when they are adults back in their own country, they really will be the hope of Africa.

But as I watched them singing and dancing, this was the truth that God laid on my heart: These children know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, where they came from and where they’re going. They remember the dire circumstances from which God lifted them up, and they know what Jesus has done for them, changing their present and securing their future. I only wish I was always so mindful of my testimony.

One of their songs included these lyrics: “The Holy Spirit will come down, and Africa will be saved.” But in the same song they sang, “The Holy Spirit will come down, and America will be saved.”

I believe there is always hope, no matter where we live, as long as we let the Holy Spirit take the lead. Give God freedom in your life.

If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land. ~ 2 Chronicles 7:14 (NIV)

Shifting Sand

2008-06-29T19:49:00.009-04:00

When I say “sand,” what’s the first thing you think of?

If I asked my daughter Hannah that question, she would be back on the beach from which she just returned in a heartbeat. In fact, she took this photo there, and even wrote a few haiku on her way home, including this one:

Surrounded by feet.
I find several grains of sand.
I miss the ocean.

The beach–any beach–is sand. Sometimes it’s fine and white; other times it’s coarse and golden. But whether you’re digging your toes in it, using it to build castles, or washing it out of your swimsuit, you can’t escape sand at the beach. Sand defines the beach. Or does it?

Think about this: You can never visit the same beach twice. Sure, you may head to the Outer Banks of North Carolina every year, or make an annual trek to Charleston, South Carolina. But the ever-changing nature of sand will create a different beach every time you walk to the water’s edge, whether it’s been a year or an hour.

Then again, if I say “sand,” you might not even think of the coast. I’m pretty sure Tiger Woods thinks of sand differently, because for him, sand can be hazardous. Still, the outcome is up in the air. Sand can either trap a golfer, or provide an opportunity to shine (as is often the case for Tiger).

I’ve never actually seen quicksand, but I certainly remember learning about it from Gilligan’s Island reruns on TV. Because no one ever told me there’s no quicksand where I lived in Virginia, I took Gilligan’s example to heart as a kid, and kept a close watch where I was walking. You never knew when you might step into quicksand, cleverly disguised as regular, garden-variety sand, and be swallowed up in a matter of minutes, never to be heard from again!

The one constant about sand is that it’s changeable, and that’s Biblical. In Matthew 7:24-27 we get fair warning:

“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.” (NIV)

The band Caedmon’s Call also has something to say about our faith and “Shifting Sand”:

My faith is like shifting sand
Changed by every wave
My faith is like shifting sand
So I stand on grace.

May His grace be your rock and the foundation of your life.

Mowing

2008-06-23T22:06:00.005-04:00

Top ten thoughts rolling around in my head while I was mowing tonight:

1. My father would be horrified to see me flying around the yard in high gear, zigging and zagging, doing donuts and figure 8s, and generally driving it like I stole it.

2. This must be what it was like to live in the Dust Bowl…and where do all of these sticks come from every time I mow??

3. There’s a very fine line between mowing and mulching, and I’m constantly crossing it.

4. I wonder how much Ann Brooks would charge to mow this for me every couple of weeks...?

5. Clover, crabgrass, and dandelions, when cut level, give the genuine appearance of a lawn.

6. I need to remember to go back and pluck those few ripe wild strawberries that were winking at me through the underbrush as I flew by…and it looks like a bumper crop of blackberries this year.

7. Grass has a wonderfully sweet, sharp scent the very instant you cut it.

8. A cool front must have moved through today, because the sky is a glorious shade of blue, with no haze whatsoever, and it’s refreshingly cool out here.

9. A newly mown lawn (i.e., weeds cut level) is infinitely satisfying when you finish and survey your work from the comfort of a hammock on the back deck.

10. God really is very good…all the time.

“For you have been born again, not of perishable seed, but of imperishable, through the living and enduring word of God. For, ‘All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord stands forever.’ And this is the word that was preached to you.” ~ 1 Peter 1:23-25 (NIV)

Thank You Notes

2008-06-21T00:27:00.019-04:00
My daughter has been writing her graduation gift thank you notes for weeks now. Not surprisingly, she doesn’t seem as excited about this as she does about opening the cards that have been arriving in the mail almost daily.

Please don’t think she’s not grateful…on the contrary, she’s always glad to receive gifts (especially cold, hard cash). It’s one of her “love languages.” But maintaining good manners can seem tedious when you’re young with an active social life and the whole summer waiting for you to finish writing thank you notes.

Saying thanks by putting pen to paper isn’t as prevalent as it used to be, I’m afraid. Still, I have always required my children to write thank you notes. (Disclaimer: If you are reading this now and you’ve ever not received a thank you note from Ben or Hannah, I sincerely apologize. For all of my insistence, I eased up on the enforcement when they got older, relying instead on good old-fashioned guilt to get the job done.)

“Why do we have to write thank you notes?” they asked, and you may be asking, too. Here's my short list:

1. It’s the least you can do if someone’s given you a gift.
2. Because Miss Manners and I say so.

But there’s another reason for what my kids think is a necessary evil and what I call necessary etiquette, and it’s this: We need to be thankful.

It’s just that simple. I’ve heard it aptly described as having an “attitude of gratitude.” To my way of thinking, it’s being aware of God’s gifts and work in your life, every minute of every day, 24/7. It’s not easy and it takes practice. That’s why we need to write/say/sing it to the people around us and the God who made us whenever we have the chance.

As I was driving to work the other day, I was singing this song with Point of Grace:

You Are Good

When the sun starts to rise and I open my eyes, you are good, so good
In the heat of the day with each stone that I lay, you are so good
With every breath I take in, I’ll tell you I’m grateful again
When the moon rises high before each kiss goodnight, you are good

When the road starts to turn, around each bend I’ve learned you are good, so good
And when somebody’s hand holds me up, helps me stand you are so good
With every breath I take in, I’ll tell you I’m grateful again
Cause it’s more than enough just to know I am loved and you are good

So how can I thank you? What can I bring?
What can a poor man lay at the feet of the king?
So I’ll sing you a love song, it’s all that I have
To tell you I’m grateful for holding my life in your hands

When it’s dark and it’s cold, and I can’t feel my soul you are still good
When the world has gone gray and the rain’s here to stay you are still good
With every breath I take in, I’ll tell you I’m grateful again
And the storm may swell, even then it is well, and you are good

So how can I thank you? What can I bring?
What can a poor man lay at the feet of the king?
So I’ll sing you a love song, it’s all that I have
To tell you I’m grateful for holding my life in your hands

You are holding my life in your hands

I have a lot to be thankful for. So when I wake up each morning – rain or shine – I try to bring Psalm 118:24 to mind and heart before I ever open my eyes: This is the day the LORD has made: I will rejoice and be glad in it! And when I close my eyes at night, I try to offer up at least five things in my life that I was thankful for that day. Today I’m grateful for Jesus, my children, my health, my job, and low humidity.

What's on your "Top Five" list?

Fill 'Er Up!

2008-06-08T21:40:00.014-04:00

A few weeks ago my son Ben was on his way from Abingdon back to Boone, North Carolina to settle into a new apartment and find a summer job. It was a gorgeous Saturday afternoon, with warm breezes and a cyan sky. Ben had come home for a doctor’s appointment and, to my knowledge, didn’t have anything going on that evening in Boone. So it shouldn’t have been a big deal when he was stopped in Damascus for the annual Trail Days Parade.

I was running errands when he called my cell phone. “Guess where I am?”

He hadn’t been gone long, but I really don’t like riddles and guessing games. “I dunno. Where?”

“Damascus.”

“Oh?” I asked, hoping he hadn’t been pulled over for speeding in Damascus.

“Yeah. I had to stop for the Trail Days Parade. So now I’m just sitting here.”

I immediately picked up on his tone, but I didn’t think having to stop for a parade on a beautiful Saturday sounded like such a bad thing. In fact, to me it sounded like it might be good for the soul, so I didn’t humor him. “Well that sounds cool. Enjoy!”

“Well, it’s not cool,” he shot back.

I countered with, “Can you do anything about it?”

Silence. ”Nope.”

“Then like I said, enjoy the parade. Just relax and be a Trail Days kinda guy for awhile,” I suggested. I wondered if he could hear the smile in my voice.

He used to be a Trail Days kinda guy, when he was younger. After all, Trail Days is a pretty big deal, not only locally, but up and down the east coast. Damascus has done a fine job of carving out a niche for themselves as an Appalachian Trail (AT) town, the only one, in fact, that the trail actually passes through. Damascus is also fairly close to being the halfway point on the 2,150-mile trail, which begins in Georgia and ends in Maine (or is it the other way around?). Every May, on the weekend following Mother’s Day, over 1,000 hikers, former hikers, and wannabe hikers, not to mention tourists, come together in Damascus to celebrate the AT. I’ve heard it compared with to a Grateful Dead concert...without the band, of course.

No matter the reason, Ben wasn’t into it this year, which led me to think he was looking at the situation as a glass half empty, while I saw it as a glass half full. The glass metaphor is almost a cliché. If you Google “glass half full” you’ll find 3,350,00 results, including a breast cancer CD website, a family blog I enjoyed browsing, and the website of an author, Carey Rowland, who wrote a novel titled, “Glass Half Full,” and who, ironically, lives in Boone. Maybe Ben should look him up…

I may be an optimist by nature, but I also try to purposefully see the glass as half full. This puts me at odds with The Today Show’s Matt Lauer, who admitted just the other morning that he’s a glass half empty guy. But we’ll probably never meet, so I can live with that. Even in restaurants my glass is always half full, although the wait staff (if they’re good) sees it as half empty and keeps trying to refill it. Our viewpoints may differ (I like to keep track of how much water I drink during the day), but I appreciate the attention and tip them well for their efforts.

In any case, I’ve found this much to be true: People tend to consistently pick one viewpoint over the other, whether intentionally or just by nature. If you don’t know which part of the glass you’re looking through, you can find out here.

And no matter which camp you’re in, my advice is to drink up! Take in all life has to offer, because when you look to God to fill your cup, it’ll never be dry. In fact, you may just find it’s overflowing.

“…Godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it.” ~ 1 Timothy 6:607 (NIV)

The Beginning

2008-06-01T23:21:00.006-04:00

It’s over. It took 17 years to get here – the senior picnic, the awards assembly, baccalaureate, and graduation…plus a whole host of breakfasts, parties, and barbeques in honor of the AHS Class of 2008. But once we got to April, the days flew by in a blur of celebratory events. It felt much like it does when you finally get to the highest point on the roller coaster…and then plunge down, hands in the air and screaming at the top of your lungs. At least, that’s what it feels like for the parent of a graduate. I’m not sure it felt exactly like that for Hannah, but I’m certain she experienced the thrill, maybe even accompanied by the brief sensation of apprehension just before you begin to descend and feel like your stomach is going to drop into your shoes.

It’s ironic that, at this point in their lives, young adults would be feeling almost the same emotions their parents are, from celebration and excitement to sadness and perhaps just a little bit of fear. Of course, my graduate hasn’t actually expressed these emotions to me, at least not in so many words. And I know we’re experiencing similar feelings from very different perspectives. But no matter what the reasons, we feel what we feel (or as we like to say at work, it is what it is).

The thing to remember though is this: It’s not a time to look back. Memories are great for the senior video, but after that they’re best saved for the 10th class reunion. This is a time to look ahead, and try to discern what the future holds. It’s a time to be grateful, too…thanking God that He knows the plan, and admitting we don’t.

“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.” ~ Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

At one graduation party yesterday I enjoyed looking at photos of the family’s graduates through the years. Four have graduated from high school so far, with one to go. But this year they were blessed threefold with a college graduate, as well as twin high school graduates – Hannah’s friends Lauren and Alyssa – who walked to the podium together Friday night with arms linked and all smiles. I noticed that someone had sent a Dr. Seuss card – Oh, the Places You’ll Go! – and I appreciated that, not only because it’s a great book for any momentous occasion, but also because Dr. Seuss was such a big part of my children’s reading experiences as they grew up. So to quote Theodor Seuss Geisel…

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You’re off to great places!
You’re off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.

You’re on your own.
And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.

Congratulations, and welcome to your future AHS Class of 2008 It's not over for you. This is just the beginning!

Parental Prom Wisdom

2008-05-11T16:18:00.015-04:00

I've been through five proms in six years, and here’s what I’ve learned as the parent of both a boy and a girl:

1. It’s much easier to send a son to the prom than a daughter. Pretty much all Ben ever needed was money and some very basic guidelines… “Get a tux (preferably a classy one), make reservations for dinner somewhere without a drive-through, buy your date a flower (extra points if it complements her dress), drive very carefully, and treat her like a princess.”

Hannah, on the other hand, just needed money, and a lot of it. Her list included: THE dress, shoes, handbag, jewelry, hair, hair accessories, makeup, manicure, pedicure, waxing, tanning, and undoubtedly some other essentials I’ve forgotten. I also tried to share some parental wisdom with her, of course, but it just got lost in the pre-prom madness. In retrospect, I should have picked my time more carefully, like the previous October.

2. When it comes to prom attire, resistance is futile. I thought Ben’s first tux made him look like a gangster, but it was the one he was determined to wear, and wear it he did. The dress Hannah wore this year was the very first one she picked out online, but I wasn’t so sure. So we ordered three others, none of which worked, and ended up scrambling to get the first dress here and altered the day before the big night. I could have saved myself a lot of hassle and shipping charges if I’d just gotten with Hannah’s program in the beginning.

3. The “official” pictures taken at the prom are a waste of money, but you can’t take too many pre-prom photos. There were 24 kids (that's right, 24) in Hannah’s prom group this time, and I juggled two cameras for over an hour to make sure we had pictures of every possible combination, including dates, friends, guys only, girls only, short dresses, long dresses, pale dresses, and sharp tuxedos, just to name a few. And there was a plethora of backgrounds to choose from as well. So naturally we posed in front of all of them, including the fountain, the gazebo, trees, flowering shrubs, the inn, and Main Street. When it was all, over my index finger was cramping and I felt qualified to add the title,“Paparazzi” to my resume.

4. If your child attends both their Junior and Senior proms, the first one will be “perfect,” but the second one will be more fun.

5. You will worry about them until they come home or call you and say they’re safely wherever it is they’re spending the night. Of course, that holds true anytime teenagers are out and about, but it’s never truer than on prom night (and maybe graduation).

6. Finally, as you watch your children and their friends get dressed up like the Rockefellers and drive off into the sunset, recognize that you’ve just had a magical glimpse into the not so distant future. Add it to your collection of precious memories, no matter how many pictures you took, and treasure it as the gift from God that it is.

Make our sons in their prime like sturdy oak trees, our daughters as shapely and bright as fields of wildflowers. ~ Psalm 144:12 (The Message)

On the Brink

2008-05-03T19:43:00.009-04:00
“This is the last stop on the “College Tour.” Last school…last child. It should be easier by now, but it doesn’t feel that way. And I know it won’t feel any easier in August, when she loads up her car with all that is precious to her so far in life…the tangible things, anyway.

“But there’s also a sense of satisfaction and pride that I have when I listen to the university administrators and professors. I know she’s up to the challenge, and I’m brought to tears when I consider how many possibilities, how many adventures, are ahead of her. Oh, to be 17 again and standing on the brink of my future!”

I wrote that a couple of weeks ago, when my daughter Hannah attended an Open House at Radford University. We were in a mock English classroom and it was a writing exercise, but for me it was a reality check.

We are in the homestretch of her senior year. Life is a flurry of decisions about college, prom, graduation…and I’m the facilitator. Please don’t misunderstand and think I’m central, or even necessary to the process. It will happen with or without my participation. For once it really is all about her right now. But my reality is that the last chick is getting ready to fly the coop, and for a parent this is one of those life events which, like a flash flood, leaves a wake of reflections and emotions after its passing.

It’s ironic to me that, while I’m trying to deal with all of this one day at a time, her life is taking a quantum leap into the future. What’s a mom to do? Well, like her brother, I know she was raised in the truth and that God has a marvelous plan for her life. So I’ll just trust and pray as I wait to see His plan unfold.

I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth. ~ 3 John 1:4 (NIV)

Going Green

2008-04-22T17:20:00.020-04:00

So Earth Day was this week, and although I've never publicly acknowledged Earth Day before, this seemed like a good forum in which to mention it. Until recently "going green" would have likely meant letting envy get the best of me, or traveling with cash in my pocket. I'm a fairly conservative girl and I've never actually hugged a tree. But working in the health and wellness industry has at least turned my radar screen a pale shade of green, and now phrases like "eco-friendly" and "environmental sustainability" roll off my keyboard with the greatest of ease.

More to the point though, my level of awareness about my personal environment is elevated. I'm putting more thought into how I live, from my diet to the cleaning products I use, to recycling paper at my desk (amazing how little "trash" is in my basket at the end of the day now). And I truly believe I'm making some small inroads toward doing my part. Oh, I know the current green revolution has taken on a life of it's own in the media, but face it: Do you know anyone who's really against the environment?

For me, it's really about stewardship. After all, God gave us a clear mandate to take care of this world a long time ago, and that trumps any man-made marketing campaign.

So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.

God blessed them and said to them, "Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and over every living creature that moves on the ground."

Then God said, "I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food. 30 And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds of the air and all the creatures that move on the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give every green plant for food." And it was so.

God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the sixth day. ~ Genesis 1:27-31 (NIV)

If you're looking to "go green" (or "greener") bookmark The Daily Green. Or, if you're into hugging trees, try this one. Oh, and thanks to Hannah Link for the use of her tree painting!

Prepared to Be Surprised

2008-04-11T17:24:00.008-04:00
I’ve never been the guest of honor at a surprise party. In fact, I’ve only had one birthday party in my entire life, and that was a really big deal back then. Unlike my own children, who used to have birthday parties every year when they were younger, a typical birthday for me and for my sister Ellen consisted of sharing some cake with our immediate family, opening a few gifts, and posing for Dad to take our official birthday photo for posterity.

The year of my one and only party I was eight, and my mother invited five friends to share in our cake and presents tradition and play pin the tail on the donkey. I didn’t know what “cool” was then, but I was in heaven. And maybe that particular birthday, which was so special to me, is the reason I used to go all out for my kids’ birthdays.

My greatest success for Ben’s birthday was a paintball party. We loaded up some pizza and cake, a whole Suburban full of boys, and about a gajillion paintballs and went to a paintball course in the woods near Blountville, Tennessee. The boys spent all afternoon running around and shooting at each other. It was a blast. A close runner-up was the year my father built an amazing “tree” house on stilts. He loaded it onto a trailer at his house and drove five hours to arrive at our McDonalds in the middle of Ben’s third birthday party. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

Hannah’s best party, in my opinion, was a “creek walking” party at Sugar Hollow Park when she turned six. We told her friends to meet us there with old shoes and a change of clothes, and they played in the creek for hours. We rented a shelter, which turned out to be a very good idea, because a typical August thunderstorm materialized just as we were grilling burgers. Hannah will tell you her most vivid memory of that day was of the cooler that held her ice cream cake sliding off of the back of the truck on the way up the steep hill to the shelter. Fortunately this ice cream cake, like most, was frozen as hard as the Artic tundra and survived the fall intact. It was a wonderful day, and I’d give anything to live it again.

These were wonderful days, and I’d give anything to live them again. But none of my children’s parties were surprises to them. They (Hannah, in particular) expended great efforts in “helping” me plan their birthday parties each year, starting approximately six months in advance. I did attend a surprise party for our friend Ed Dutton when he turned 50, but I believe that was my only opportunity to “surprise” someone.

Maybe surprise parties only happen in movies, but there are plenty of other surprises in real life. Some are good, like a big, fat tax refund check…a call from a friend you haven’t talked with in awhile…or visiting your mom and discovering she made your favorite meal. Others aren’t so good, like a letter from the IRS with no check enclosed…a call from your doctor with bad news…or losing a parent unexpectedly.

“Prepare to be Surprised” may sound like oxymoronic advice, but it’s a safe bet that you’ll be surprised one way or another most days. Just keep your eyes open, because sometimes the good surprises can be small and easily missed. And the bad ones? Nothing is certain in this life, but for me it’s enough just to know who holds the future in His hands. I may be surprised, but He’ll never be caught off guard.

“When times are good, be happy; but when times are bad, consider: God has made the one as well as the other. Therefore, a man cannot discover anything about his future.” ~ Ecclesiastes 7:14 (NIV)

Let There Be Life-Light

2008-03-29T18:03:00.019-04:00

I found this card in a garden shop, of all places. It features an original photograph by a woman named Teresa Hurley and the simple scripture reference, “Genesis 1:3.”

“And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.” (NIV)

I didn't know Teresa Hurley, nor did I have anyone in particular to send the card to, but it sparked something inside of me. So I bought it and propped it up on a table in my office.

That was a couple of weeks ago. Then on Easter Sunday my friend Greg, who leads our praise and worship team Spash! at church, shared parts of this scripture from The Message:

The Word was first,
the Word present to God,
God present to the Word.
The Word was God,
in readiness for God from day one.

Everything was created through him;
nothing—not one thing!—
came into being without him.
What came into existence was Life,
and the Life was Light to live by.
The Life-Light blazed out of the darkness;
the darkness couldn't put it out.

The Life-Light was the real thing:
Every person entering Life
he brings into Light.
He was in the world,
the world was there through him,
and yet the world didn't even notice.
He came to his own people,
but they didn't want him.
But whoever did want him,
who believed he was who he claimed
and would do what he said,
He made to be their true selves,
their child-of-God selves.
These are the God-begotten,
not blood-begotten,
not flesh-begotten,
not sex-begotten.

John 1:1-5, 9-13

We can gain fresh insight from familiar scripture by reading Eugene Peterson’s paraphrasing, and in his notes at the beginning of John, he points out,

"In Genesis, the first book of the Bible, God is presented as speaking the creation into existence. God speaks the word and it happens: Heaven and earth, ocean and stream, trees and grass, birds and fish, animals and humans. Everything, seen and unseen, called into being by God’s spoken word.

“In deliberate parallel to the opening words of Genesis, John presents God as speaking salvation into existence. This time God’s word takes on human form, and enters history in the person of Jesus. Jesus speaks the word and it happens: Forgiveness and judgment, healing and illumination, mercy and grace, joy and love, freedom and resurrection. Everything broken and fallen, sinful and diseased, called into salvation by God’s spoken word.”

CLICK.

I can almost hear the pieces falling into place like the tumblers inside a lock click together with the right combination. God took the original picture and created a whole new masterpiece, solving the puzzle for us because there was no way we could figure it out on our own. The missing piece of the puzzle was Jesus, but the picture is still incomplete until we each add our own puzzle pieces–our hearts, minds, and souls. Then and only then will His portrait of grace be finished.

Celtic Cruciform by artist Andy Mercer. You can see more of his work here.

To Believe

2008-03-21T21:09:00.018-04:00

Often things are not as they appear to be. For example, these three girls were looking fine in 1997, but they were nowhere near as grown up as they were pretending to be. Over the years I’ve watched Courtney, Caitlynn, and Hannah all grow into beautiful young women, although they still aren’t quite grown up yet and I doubt they will ever dress like this, even when they are. (Hannah, far right, says she would wear animal print flats, but that's about it.)

The older I become, the more firmly I believe we have to go through Holy Week to get to Easter. We have to put ourselves in the picture with Jesus and His disciples during this Holy Week to understand the magnitude of the gift of Easter. And things certainly were not as they appeared during that week that changed the world forever.

What appeared to be a triumphant march into Jerusalem on the very day Jewish families everywhere chose their perfect Passover lamb was, in reality, a death march. What seemed like a typical Passover meal in an upstairs room turned into a last supper. What masqueraded as a fair trial was actually a thinly disguised plan to placate an angry mob and get Pontius Pilot off of the hook politically. And what seemed like the end of all of His followers' hopes and dreams, with the Christ hanging on a cross between two thugs on a hill at Golgatha, was in truth our saving grace.

Was it any wonder the disciples were confused right up to the very end? Even though Jesus told them everything that would happen well in advance, it was simply unfathomable that He would be crucified. After all, He was God incarnate…the Messiah they had been anxiously awaiting...even though that was not how He appeared to everyone.

And so it’s no surprise that when it was apparently all over, and Jesus was sealed in His tomb, it seemed as if the final chapter had been written. And when then women found that the stone had been rolled away on what we call Easter morning, it certainly seemed as if someone had stolen His body. I can’t imagine their heartbreak in that moment. But then, in the greatest coda ever written in the history of man, the angel proclaimed Jesus’ resurrection, and turned their world (and ours) upside down.

On this Good Friday, I’m reminded of a message I haven’t heard in a long time. Tony Campolo’s signature sermon is titled, “It’s Friday But, Sunday’s Coming,”, and you can listen to it here. It’s a wonderful reminder to anyone who can’t see beyond what entangles them today. No matter how bad things may seem, if you will look beyond the tomb, you’ll see the reality of Easter. I promise you, Sunday’s coming!

To Believe (John 19-23, The Message)

Later on that day, the disciples had gathered together, but, fearful of the Jews, had locked all the doors in the house. Jesus entered, stood among them, and said, "Peace to you." Then he showed them his hands and side.

The disciples, seeing the Master with their own eyes, were exuberant. Jesus repeated his greeting: "Peace to you. Just as the Father sent me, I send you."

Then he took a deep breath and breathed into them. "Receive the Holy Spirit," he said. "If you forgive someone's sins, they're gone for good. If you don't forgive sins, what are you going to do with them?"

Irish Blessing

2008-03-17T21:58:00.008-04:00

Although my father's mother, my Granna Settle, was of partial Irish ancestry (her maiden name was Frances Flinn), I'm not a big believer in the "Luck of the Irish." In fact, years ago I intentionally stopped using the word "lucky," substituting "blessed," instead. So here is an old Irish blessing for you on St. Patrick's Day:

May love and laughter light your days,
and warm your heart and home.
May good and faithful friends be yours,
wherever you may roam.
May peace and plenty bless your world
with joy that long endures.
May all life's passing seasons
bring the best to you and yours!

Humble Pie

2008-03-13T22:29:00.013-04:00

The definition of “humble” according to Merriam-Webster:
hum•ble: hum-bel (also chiefly Southern: um-bel) adjective
1: not proud or haughty; not arrogant or assertive
2: reflecting, expressing, or offered in a spirit of deference or submission
3: ranking low in a hierarchy or scale

Recently I was blessed on not one, but two separate occasions to witness humility in action and was, in turn, humbled myself.

Both instances occurred when I was at the gym. (And trust me, I’m not boasting when I say that. If you saw me there, you’d understand.) The first was the day Brett Favre retired. After 17 seasons with the Green Bay Packers, the 38-year-old three-time MVP hung up his cleats in an emotionally-charged press conference that had me riveted as I panted through my 40-minute treadmill workout. Here’s an excerpt of Farve’s retirement speech:

“I've watched hundreds of players retire, and you wonder what that would be like ... you think you're prepared ... but I was telling Deanna on the way over here, God has blessed me with so many great things. Ability, wonderful family. And as I was flying up here today I thought about so many different things and how I wanted to say some of the things that I felt like I need to say, but he gave me an opportunity to use my abilities, and I seized that opportunity ... I thank him for that.

”I'd like to thank the Packers, for giving me the opportunity as well. I hope that every penny ... I hope that every penny that they've spent on me, they know was money well-spent. It was never about the money or fame or records, and I hear people talk about your accomplishments and things ... It was never my accomplishments, it was our accomplishments, the teammates that I've played with, and I can name so many. It was never about me, it was about everybody else. It just so happens the position I played got most of the attention. But the Packers have been, ... it's been a great relationship, and I hope that this organization and the fans appreciate me as much as I appreciate them.”

Frankly, I was blown away by Brett Farve’s humility. It was almost enough to make me a Green Bay fan, but I was raised to pull for the Redskins come hell or high water, and I'm too old to switch allegiances now.

Then, in the very same week, I met a man who has lost over 200 lbs. in 22 months. I knew a little of Darren's story, and when I met him I said, “I don’t much like to use the word ‘proud,’ but you surely have reason to be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

Do you know what he said to me? He said, “I’m just happy. I’m happy…and humbled. I’m really humbled to be where I am now.” Again, I was blown away. This guy has worked so hard to reach his goals. But he’s not claiming the glory; he’s just thankful. Wow.

According to the Gospel of Luke, here’s what Jesus had to say about being humble:

"For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted." ~ Luke 14:11 (NIV)

Boy, can I attest to that scripture passage. Ironically, whenever you think you’ve got humility covered, that’s when you need to work on it just a little bit more. And whenever I slip up and get even the least bit proud in my heart, God will set me straight.

It may sound silly, but imagine I have a brand new blouse, and I’m loving the way I look in it (plus, it was on SALE). Sure as the world, as soon as I cross the humility line I’ll drip marinara sauce down my front at lunch. It's frustrating, but I always get the message. And when I reflect on it I’m grateful for the lesson, because left to my own devices, I’d have a terminal case of “the big head.” And that’s not a reflection of Jesus.

(P.S. – Even though it’s a full week away from the first day of spring, I heard the peepers tonight when I got home from the gym. Spring is on the way!)

Hope Springs Eternal

2008-02-29T21:40:00.020-05:00

As surely as Winter keeps fighting to keep its “Current Season” title this time of year, out of nowhere the crocus will pop up, defying the calendar and coaching Spring, a brash young amateur contender slipping through the ropes to take on the heavyweight titleholder. Winter scoffs at Spring and desperately trys to hold its own, strutting around the ring for a few more rounds and throwing a few good punches. But Spring always rises from the mat before the count of 10, and inevitably, an exhausted and out of shape Winter grudgingly gives over the title belt to a fresh new season...and the fans go wild!

At least, that’s what I imagine began to happen this week. On Tuesday my friend Debbie forwarded these pictures by local photographer Frank Renault, and they were balm for my winter-weary heart. Then, on the heels of this sure sign of spring, the temperature took a dive, it snowed for two days, and my daughter got an unexpected (but much appreciated) vacation from school.

Still, it’s those little signs of spring that keep hope alive this time of year. I cheer on the bulbs braving the elements, but for me it’s the “peepers” that signal the end of winter. When I can stand on my deck on a warm evening in early spring (or late winter) and hear the loud chorus of tiny tree frogs, I know spring has finally arrived.

Another friend heralded the arrival of a robin in her yard last week. But according to one website I visited,

“The American Robin actually spends the winter in much of its breeding range. However, because they spend less time in yards and congregate in large flocks during winter, you're much less likely to see them. The number of robins present in the northern parts of the range varies each year with the local conditions.”

So I’m sticking with my peepers. And depending on a groundhog to predict the end of winter makes far less sense than any of these other signs. So why does Puxatawny Phil get so much press coverage? He must have a great agent. After all, he did land a leading role in that movie with Bill Murray…

But a better question would be, why do we need hope so badly as winter’s end draws near? My faith doesn’t waver during the cold, dark winter months, although I sometimes catch myself wanting to hibernate, rather than venture out to church on Wednesday night, or deliver breakfasts early on Saturday morning. But even though my faith remains strong and I know the seasons are bound to change, every sign of spring is a welcomed visual and tangible reminder of God’s faithfulness.

Young actress Dakota Fanning’s even younger sister Elle Fanning recently made her acting debut in the movie, “Phoebe in Wonderland.” At one point in the film, Fanning’s character asks her therapist, “Are you always supposed to feel hope?”

I thought that was an excellent question, seeing as there ere are days when I’m not sure I “feel” anything at all. But thank God it’s not about what we feel, or even what we see.

It seems far too often these days that I’m writing about friends who’ve died, and I lost another one in a tragic accident this past Valentine’s Day. I worked with Jeff Owen for 17 years, and he was one of the kindest, most humble men I’ve ever known. He loved nature, his family, and the Lord, and when I approached his casket, my heart was warmed to see his Bible opened to the book of Hebrews, with this verse marked, “favorite verse”…

“Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” ~ Hebrews 11:1 (NIV)

I remember Jeff sharing that very verse with me years ago, and I know his faith has been realized now, his hope finally revealed so that he can see what he could only imagine before.

So I have faith that spring will follow winter, and summer after that. And even if the seasons cease, I have faith in God, and trust that He has faith in me.

Frank Renault, who also took this photograph of a dog in Italy, tells me there will be a photography exhibit at the Bristol Library in March, a joint exhibit of the Highlands Camera Club of Abingdon between and the Kingsport Senior Center Photo Group and Highlands Camera Club of Abingdon. “Border to Border — In Focus,” on display through March 28, will feature nearly 40 photographs taken by members from both clubs. There is no cost to view the exhibit, and there will be an opening reception from 2 to 4 p.m. this Sunday, March 2. For more information, visit: http://www.gotricities.com/content/article.dna?idNumber=5322

Double Vision

2008-02-22T19:44:00.006-05:00

In my last post I introduced Kevin (L) and Kolton, my favorite twins. The other day their dad shared this more current photo with me...my how they've grown. But they haven't just grown taller. Here are a few comments from their parents' perspective:

"Kevin and Kolton are a product of the Pleasant View Church family. They are full of compassion for others, they love going to church, and they ask spiritual questions almost everyday as they seek to know more about who they are. As the twins that they are, they learned to share and be patient much earlier than most. They also learned to comfort and to cry when their brother was hurt. That is what the church is and should be. I learn something new from them everyday. Today...is their 7th birthday. God bless you and PVUMC! We love and miss you guys!"

Well said. The New Testament also has some direction for us regarding brotherly love:

"Now about brotherly love we do not need to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love each other."
~ 1 Thessalonians 4:9 (NIV)

"Now that you have purified yourselves by obeying the truth so that you have sincere love for your brothers, love one another deeply, from the heart." ~ 1 Peter 1:19 (NIV)

"Finally, all of you, live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble.
~ 1 Peter 3:8 (NIV)

Happy Birthday Kevin & Kolton. May your lives always be filled with brotherly love!

Amazing Grace = Equality

2008-02-18T20:34:00.010-05:00

From heaven the LORD looks down
and sees all mankind;
from His dwelling place He watches
all who live on earth-
He who forms the hearts of all,
who considers everything they do.
~ Psalm 133:13-15 (NIV)

I know all men are created equal in God’s eyes, but are identical twins more equal than others? I don’t know, but I do know I still can’t tell these boys apart anymore than I could when they were newborns.

Kevin and Kolton are sweet boys, but make no mistake – they’re ALL boy. It has been a joy to watch them grow, first as babies and then as toddlers and young boys, and I miss them. Their parents are our former Youth Pastor and his wife, Matt and Terri, and they live in middle Tennessee now. Still, we get to see them every now and then because one set of grandparents lives in this area. My daughter Hannah used to babysit for Kevin and Kolton occasionally (when Matt and Terri needed a sanity break), and she is graced with big bear hugs when we do get to visit with them.

One of the unique challenges I recall their parents having to address as they grew was the need to treat them as individuals, rather than as a “matched set.” Terri told me she took Kevin out for an adventure without his brother one day, and he looked at her and said with great wonder, “Mommy, Kolton’s not with us!”

Eventually we all have to find our own way…our own identity in this world. And what a boring world it would be if we were all alike! But wouldn’t it be wonderful if, at the same time, we could both appreciate our differences and celebrate our similarities? What if we could look at the people who, on the surface, are so vastly different from ourselves–whether because of skin color, gender, social position, financial standing, or even because they live half a world away–and and still see them as God’s children, no different from ourselves?

The older I get, the less patience I have for people who think they’re better than anyone else. I think they’re in for a rude awakening, if not in this life, then in the afterlife. I realize that in this imperfect world it’s easy to say, “It is what it is.” But I think the trick is to put ourselves in others’ shoes. In my experience, the fit may not be perfect…in fact, it will probably be a little tight and uncomfortable. But as the saying goes, "There, but for the grace of God, go I.”

Yesterday I watched the movie Amazing Grace, the story of William Wilberforce’s tireless fight to end slave trade in the British Empire during the 18th century. Wilberforce, a member of Parliament, eventually succeeded in his quest, and went on to fight and win many other humanitarian battles. A friend and encourager of his, former slave trader John Newton, wrote the hymn "Amazing Grace," which was originally called “Faith’s Review and Expectation,” and was based on David’s prayer in I Chronicles 17:16-17:

“Then King David went in and sat before the LORD, and he said, ‘Who am I, O LORD God, and what is my family, that you have brought me this far? And as if this were not enough in your sight, O God, you have spoken about the future of the house of your servant. You have looked on me as though I were the most exalted of men, O LORD God.’”

The truth of the matter is, we are all created equal in God’s eyes, and we could all ask the question, “Who am I, O LORD God?” If it wasn’t so, Jesus’ death on the cross would have been meaningless. Think about that the next time you look at someone and think how different you are…

Amazing Grace

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That sav’d a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears reliev’d;
How precious did that grace appear,
The hour I first believ’d!

Thro’ many dangers, toils and snares,
I have already come;
’Tis grace has brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.

The Lord has promis’d good to me,
His word my hope secures;
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.

Yes, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease;
I shall possess, within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.

The earth shall soon dissolve like snow,
The sun forbear to shine;
But God, who call’d me here below,
Will be forever mine.

John Newton, Olney Hymns (London: W. Oliver, 1779)

The Great Brain Debate

2008-02-10T20:45:00.000-05:00

As if we didn’t have enough ways to stereotype each other and separate ourselves like children on a playground, along comes The Great Brain Debate.

It’s not a new concept, classifying people according to which side of their brains they utilize more, and it’s fairly simple to determine which side you come down on…maybe even easier than picking a presidential candidate this year. In fact, the whole thing started with 1981 Nobel Prize Winner Roger Sperry’s "split-brain" experiments on patients suffering from seizures. Sperry concluded,

“The main theme to emerge... is that there appear to be two modes of thinking, verbal and nonverbal, represented rather separately in left and right hemispheres respectively and that our education system, as well as science in general, tends to neglect the nonverbal form of intellect. What it comes down to is that modern society discriminates against the right hemisphere.” ~ Roger Sperry (1973)

The brain is made up of two halves, with a front-to-back fold dividing it into two distinct sections. These two parts of the brain are connected to each other by a thick cable of nerves–corpus collosum–at the base of each side. One website I visited described it as, “… an Ethernet cable or network connection between two incredibly fast and immensely powerful computer processors, each running different programs from the same input.” You can certainly find more detailed and scientific explanations of how it all works, but because I’m right-brained, that's good enough for me. But I’m getting ahead of myself…

Imagine a boxing ring: In the left corner, with plaid flannel boxers, is LEFT BRAIN–logical, detail oriented, factual, into math and science, reality-based, strategic, practical, and safe. And in the right corner, with polka-dotted silk boxers, is RIGHT BRAIN–imaginative, philosophic, impetuous, into symbols and images, fantasy, the “big picture,” and possibilities, definitely a risk taker.

Can you see it in your mind? Then you’re probably a right brainer (better than being a no brainer). But the truth is, it’s just not that simple. Many brain functions draw on both hemispheres, and most of us exhibit some of each side’s qualities. Still, we each tend to favor the right or left brain, and I’ll be the first to say it: I’m a right brain girl.

Even though language skills are attributed to the left brain, I sure don’t have any of the left brain math skills. My friend and co-worker Susan loves to work Soduko puzzles. I say a puzzle AND numbers? Count me out. I'm not a risk taker, but I enjoy working with a group of fantastically talented graphic designers and photographers. They are “creatives,” feeding off of each others’ energy. (It works best when it’s positive energy.) It’s just plain fun. I love music, books, and art, and recently confessed to a friend that there’s definitely a non-conformist vying for attention deep inside of me. It’s a good thing I was a mere child in the 60’s…

I’m also a visual learner. Give me concrete examples I can see; don’t assume I get it just because you said it. Maybe that’s why I can relate to my friend Teresa’s need for, “God with skin on.” I know He’s everywhere, and always with me. But sometimes I just need to see Him, touch Him, and curl up on His lap as I drift off to sleep at night… I even pictured Jesus riding shotgun with my teenagers when they started driving! And His “hedge of protection,” which I constantly pray for Him to place around them, is very real and tangible to me.

Now, you might say the need to see something to believe it is a left brain attribute, and you’d probably be correct. But remember, I said there’s a lot of crossover between the left brain and the right brain. And it’s not that I need to actually see it to believe it; it just feels more real to me when I use my imagination. But it seems to me that the bigger question is this: If faith is believing in things UNSEEN, what does that mean for us, whether we use our left or right brain?

To me, it means all of us “…walk by faith, not by sight.” (2 Corinthians 5:7 (KJV) Left brain or right, “…we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” 2 Corinthians 4:18 (NIV)

And that’s fine by me. If I had to depend only on the things I can see to fuel my faith, I’d be in bad shape. But when I lean on my faith, rather than on my own understanding, God’s imagination is my limit.

The Big Question

2008-02-02T22:13:00.000-05:00

Recently a beloved, older member of our church family died, and I was blessed to be there for his memorial service. I say “blessed” because it was one of those services during which we celebrated a life of faith, lived out in relationship between him, us–his friends–and God. There were hugs, tears, and songs, but the bulk of the evening was spent passing microphones around the sanctuary and sharing memories of Hobart Johnson.

Hobart was a man of books and learning, of deep and abiding faith. He always had a twinkle in his eye, and Ricky–his daughter who had suffered a stroke in her early adult years–on his arm. He believed in the church and in the King James version of the Bible, and was deeply concerned about the direction in which we were heading as a denomination.

As I listened to my friends share scripture from Hobart’s Bible (always KJV), and memories from their hearts, I was touched by just how many lives he affected with his solid faith. But the pivotal moment of the evening for me came when my friend Stan took the microphone and shared a story about Hobart that has kept me pondering for the past two weeks.

Stan, a good friend and church staff member, told us about a conversation he had with Hobart. Shortly after he had been hired to head up our Youth Ministry, Stan was approached by this veritable icon of Pleasant View UMC, who posed the following question:

“What has God done for you through brokenness?”

Now I don’t know about you, but that simple question hit me square between the eyes. It wasn't a question about theology, or political issues–both area Hobart was very interested in–but rather a deeply personal query about what God had done in Stan’s life. And I began to consider how it related to my life.

There is a song about brokenness that we occasionally sing in our contemporary worship services… It’s by Sonic Flood, and it’s titled, “Holiness.” The lyrics go like this:

Brokenness, brokenness is what I long for.
Brokenness is what I need.
Brokenness, brokenness is what
You want from me.

Brokenness…That’s a hard thing to admit you need, much less long for. It’s never easy, or comfortable. But it is what God wants from us, because it’s the most effective way He grows us. And it’s not what breaks us that we long for, but what He does with it, and how it draws us to Him.

In my life, especially these mid-life years, God has used circumstances to humble me, and show me beyond a shadow of a doubt that He is who He says He is, and He will do what He says He will do. (Praise to Him and thanks to Beth Moore for the wording!) When I’m unbroken, I’m much more likely to pat myself on the back for the way things are going. But when I’m broken, I have no choice but to turn to Him, and trust Him to lead me in His ways. When I’m in a place of brokenness I can say, to quote another song, this one from a Living Proof Live CD–The Lamb has Overcome, featuring Travis Cottrell (from Boone, NC):

I will not be moved.
And I’ll say of the Lord:
You are my Shield,
My Strength, my Portion,
Deliver, my Shelter, Strong Tower,
My very present help in time of need.

That’s what He’s done for me through brokenness.

In another encounter just today my path crossed with a friend’s whose son grew up with my son. I knew Josh had a horrific snow tubing accident two weeks ago that left him with a shattered vertebra, but to hear the narrative from his father was spellbinding and again, a blessing.

As Josh’s father shared the events of the past two weeks with me, I could see in his eyes how hard it was to even say the words that made his son’s story real. In fact, he admitted that he couldn’t have made it through the story just a few days ago. After all, it was the stuff a parent’s worst nightmares are made of.

But ultimately God brought Josh through surgery and a mere two weeks later he is a walking miracle. During his ordeal in the hospital, he related a deep sense of peace and reassurance that everything was going to be okay, and, thanks to his church family, his father shared a new awareness of the power of prayer.

Brokenness…it’s what we need.

“The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.”
~ Psalm 51:17 (KJV…for Hobart)

Sweet Sleep

2008-01-25T22:46:00.000-05:00

Found this Ben Lee CD cover and it just seemed to fit my current work schedule...

I've also been pondering this scripture:

In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat—for he grants sleep to those he loves. ~ Psalm 127:2 (NIV)

Not sure how it relates, but I do know He loves me, even if I'm not getting as much sleep as I normally do.

High Anxiety

2008-01-13T22:42:00.001-05:00

Things get pretty crazy at work this time of year. I’m a writer in a marketing department at a catalog company, and our annual resource book of spa products is unveiled as the trade show season begins at the end of February. So the almost 500-page catalog has to be finalized and printed by then.

I can’t even begin to explain the process for publishing a catalog of that size, but trust me – it can be brutal from November through January. I jokingly say everyone is allowed one breakdown at some point during that time frame, but no two are permitted at the same time!

And that’s just work. If you factor in the rest of life, insanity can ensue. I think I’m a fairly laid-back person most of the time. But everyone has to find a way to deal with everyday anxiety.

A few months ago I had a full-blow anxiety attack at work (and it wasn’t even catalog season). Long story short, I arrived at work to find an urgent job request I had to deal with immediately – no time for coffee or email! Then, out of the blue, my heartbeat and breathing got out of whack. I tried deep, measured breathing (recalled from Lamaze classes 20 years ago), but it was no good. I couldn’t get myself back on track. If I hadn’t read about anxiety attacks, I would have thought I was having a heart attack. But I had read about this, and all of my symptoms were classic.

So what did I do? I worked through it. After all, I had a job request to fill. Besides, I didn’t want to cause a fuss, because I’m a “fixer,” not the one who needs fixing. And I couldn’t have people hovering over me to make sure I didn’t drop dead while I was trying to do my work; that would just be distracting.

Eventually (about an hour later) I finished the task, my heart rate and breathing settled down, and I determined that I was not going to keel over in my cubicle after all. I haven’t had another attack since, and I pray I don’t. But just in case, I am claiming this scripture:

“Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” ~ Philippians 4:5-7 (NIV)

By the way, the photo above is of my son Ben (on the right, and now age 20) and his friend Alex (on the left) years ago, at Alex’s birthday party. Alex is at James Madison University now, and Ben’s at Appalachian State. I think Alex was just chilled in this picture, but he sure appears anxiety-ridden, doesn’t he? Ben, on the other hand, seems totally relaxed, with his safety vest and goggles. For the record, I want to be like Ben looked that day – wrapped in the life-saving vest of Jesus and viewing life through His eyes.

Getting Greedy

2008-01-10T20:48:00.000-05:00
Have you ever watched the TV show, Deal or No Deal? I have, but I don’t watch it often, because it makes me too sad. Most people say it’s all about luck, but I say it’s a show about greed, plain and simple. I’ve watched too many people walk away with little more than they came with to believe otherwise. Recently, I witnessed a woman who is a pig farmer say “No deal!” to Howie Mandel, the nefarious “banker,” and over $200,000, and ultimately leave the show with exactly one penny more than she had when she started. And even sadder than that, her husband, father, and a couple of other close “advisors,” urged her to keep going, even after the game had turned and her winnings were quickly disappearing into thin air.

I think all of these contestants (and their consultants) truly believe they will be the million dollar winner. Why? Because they deserve it! Any why is that? Well, why not them? They’re as deserving as anyone else, right?

TV isn’t the only place I’ve seen greed in action, of course. I’ve seen people bitter over the fact that they received bonuses that weren’t as large as some of their co-workers’. It was like seeing Jesus’ parable about the vineyard workers who were paid equally come to life (Matthew 20:1-16). Never mind that these unexpected bonuses were gifts. Much like grace, they were totally unmerited, but sadly, in some cases, also unappreciated.

Adults aren’t the only greedy ones. I’ve watched children carefully tally up Christmas presents, either by number or value, and end up bitterly disappointed because, as they perceive it, they didn’t get as much as others. I just ache for these kids, because I can’t see how they can ever be satisfied with what they have.

And that’s the trick, isn’t it? At least, that’s what I’ve heard people say…it’s not about having what you want, but wanting what you have. The apostle Paul, in particular, had a lot to say about contentment. Here’s just one example from his letter to the Philippians:

“I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.” ~ Philippians 4:11-13 (NIV)

The same “secret” is revealed in Hebrews 13:5:

“Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, 'Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.'”

Counting on God to satisfy my needs–from the physical to the yearning for contentment–makes a lot more sense to me than the current bestselling “Secret” to life, which is to simply visualize your life the way you want it and...*poof*....so it will be.

Please understand–I'm not immune to getting greedy. In fact, by the time I find myself up to my neck in discontentment, I’m usually amazed by how fast it happened and how I never saw it coming. But if I stop and consider, I’m never surprised to realize that somewhere along the way I stopped counting on God and started being my own source of contentment…and that never turns out well.

If I were a girl who made resolutions for the New Year, there would be a good one somewhere in all of this…maybe something like this: To be content in my relationship with God, and trust Him to provide exactly what I need every day, just like manna from heaven.

Auld Lang Syne

2008-01-05T18:24:00.000-05:00

"Auld Lang Syne" means "times gone by," perfect for this old photo I dug up on the Found website. I know I'm a few days late, but it was just too good to pass up. It was the "Find of the Day" on December 26th, 2004. Apparently, "Allyson" found it while cleaning underneath the bench seat of a Volkswagen Vanagon her dad had recently purchased.

Hope your New Year has been picture perfect so far.

Happy New Year/Life!

2007-12-31T22:09:00.000-05:00

My friend Debbie sent me an email last night and said she was looking forward to seeing a New Year blog post. Oh, the pressure...!

The truth is, I like the “fresh start” feeling of the New Year, but I’m not much on resolutions. On the upside, you take your tree down and your living room looks twice as roomy…you can look forward to hibernating for the next 10 weeks…and the days are already getting longer! On the other hand, you may be suffering from post-holiday malaise…the weather’s likely to get worse before it gets better…and, even though the days are getting longer, it still gets dark at 5:30.

I’ve made my share of New Year’s resolutions over the years. I can’t even recall the specific ones, because I typically failed at them within the first 48 hours. More often, my resolutions have been very vague, for instance, “be healthier,” or, “simplify.” The single resolution I can say I've kept over the past five years was to know my checking account balance at all times, and the only reason I achieved that goal was the advent of online banking.

The other thing about New Year’s resolutions is that they’re almost always rooted in failure. For instance, “Last year I did a horrible job of __________, so this year I resolve to do better at __________.” How is that supposed to work? It feels like a self-fulfilling prophecy to me.

While I do have hopes and goals and dreams for 2008, I’ll think I’ll opt to keep them close to my heart, rather than publicize them (thus eliminating that nasty “accountability” factor). Besides, if I make a New Year’s resolution and blow it January 2nd, have I blown it for the entire year? As discouraging as that would be, I have a better plan.

The truth is, God offers me more than a New Year tomorrow. He offers me a new life 365 days a year through His son, and that’s an offer that can’t be beat. Sure, I’ll get up tomorrow morning and try my best to be a better me. Inevitably I’ll fall short, but the good news is that I’ll have another shot at it the day after tomorrow, and I don’t have to do it on my own; He’ll be there January 2nd (and March 19th, and July 22nd, and October 5th, supporting me with His grace and mercy.

So I wish you a wonderful New Year, filled with His best for you and the ones you love. But on that day when you wake up and realize you’ve fallen short of your 2008 resolutions, I pray that you can forgive yourself, move on, and lean on Him for the rest of the year.

“Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” ~ Lamentations 3:22-23 (NIV)

Are You Feeling It?

2007-12-24T17:09:00.000-05:00

The presents are all bought, wrapped, and under the re-decorated tree. The food is ready to travel tomorrow – a blackberry wine cake and a cheeseball. The pageants and cantatas have all been presented. The house is semi-clean, the kids are home, and the stockings are ready.

I’m still not feeling “it.” But that’s ok, because I know that tonight in our sanctuary, after we take communion and they turn down the lights, we’ll light our candles and sing Silent Night. And then, finally, I’ll feel it. Christmas will be here, in my heart, having arrived in the guise of a little baby. That’s the Christmas spirit, and it never fails to show up.

My prayer for you is that moment – whether it’s tonight, or tomorrow, or maybe even in the quiet next week after all of the craziness is over – when you know the Christ child is here, alive and well in your heart.

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. ~ Isaiah 9:6 (NIV)

The Gift of Grace

2007-12-23T18:59:00.000-05:00
I'm glad to report the Christmas tree is back up in the great room, standing tall and fairly straight, fully decorated again and secured to the window frame with cup hooks and twine. But after reading my admittedly pathetic Christmas tree story, a couple of my dearest friends gently pointed out what I overlooked that night: That God’s grace remains strong in our lives no matter what else happens.

My dear friend Debbie, who has come alongside me this year in ways I can’t even begin to express my thanks for, put it like this: “If the tree is back up, does that mean grace is real and at work?”

I told her yes, of course…but I didn’t need a tree to tell me that. Christmas tree topples over? It’s no match for God’s grace. You’re dealing with an impossible situation? Nothing is impossible for Jesus. Age old poverty, war, hunger? Even in the midst of these fallen world circumstances, He is aware and at work in all of our lives.

Then my life-friend Connie (another of God’s foundational supports in my life, always keeping me grounded) sent me the sweetest gift... Knowing my fondness for haiku, she wrote this, which I offer as a Christmas gift to you:

Will Christmas not come
because your tree has fallen?
Will his birthday pass?

No! I say out loud.
Even if there is no tree
His birthday WILL be.

He needs no green tree
to give you child his great gifts
peace, joy, hope, promise.

He is not held back
by fallen trees or life's pain
His birthday WILL reign.

There is no green tree?
May Jesus be your sweet hope-
He WILL be your tree.

The Tannenbaum Blues

2007-12-21T22:45:00.000-05:00

We’ve always been late putting up our Christmas tree, at least compared to everyone else I know. In the days when we used the woodstove more, our excuse was that a real tree would be a fire hazard by Christmas Day if we put it up too early. And don’t even mention an artificial tree, because it HAD to be a real tree. After all, getting the tree used to be a big adventure for the kids...one that involved the family trekking off to a local Christmas tree farm, hiking hill and dale until we found the perfect tree (i.e., the one that got my seal of approval), cutting that sucker down, and dragging it home like a prize catch on Animal Planet.

After it was properly trimmed and screwed into a tree stand, we would throw open the great room doors and bring it into the house, always tucking it into the same perfect corner next to the bookshelves. I was in charge of decorating the tree from the crocheted angel at the top to the tree skirt spread out around the base. (Naturally I always tried to con someone else into putting the lights on first, if possible.)

So this year was pretty much going according to plan, albeit with less pomp and circumstance, when I asked my son Ben (finally home from Boone by way of Chattanooga) to venture forth and get the tree – any tree (after all, it was already the 19th!). Bless his heart, I was working and Hannah had other plans, so off to Mendota he went … and back to Brumley Gap he came with a very large Scotch pine. Ben and his dad then worked for a fair amount of time to trim the bottom, install the tree in the stand, and wrestle it into the house. When we finally determined it was as straight as it was going to get, they washed their hands of it (literally…Scotch Pines are very sticky).

The tree stood in my great room au natural until last night, when I came home from work, pushed up my sleeves, and commenced to decorating it. The lights went on beautifully...then I took a real leap of faith and let silver and gold ribbon cascade down from the top of the tree, rather than wrapping it around the tree’s girth like garland. It looked great.

Hanging our ornaments on the tree took the most time. We’ve never had a “department store tree,” because each of our ornaments has a story. They rarely match, but I know the history of each one, and have, to the extent they’ve paid attention, taught my children those stories. So when I present them with their ornaments one day, after they’ve moved out of my home and are decorating their own family tree, they, too, will be able to pass the story behind each ornament along to their families.

Finally, after three hours, the tree was finished, and if I may say so myself, it was perfect. I had watered it, spent some time just gazing in admiration, and wandered off to make brownies for my co-workers. Brownies baking in the oven, I wandered back to wrap the base of the tree with a skirt and place our presents under its branches. I was pretty well pleased with myself.

Until it came crashing down, that is.

It was almost as if it was falling in slow motion… I was standing there, but there was nothing I could do but watch helplessly as it fell over, crashing to the floor and scattering ornaments and berries in ever direction. Broken glass and water were all over my hardwood floor and under the furniture (heavy furniture, like the sofa and piano). I was too stunned to move.

After I got over my initial shock, I called my daughter Hannah, who was on her way home from a movie. Unfortunately, she misunderstood and thought a tree from our yard had fallen across our house and landed in the living room. But once she got home and discerned the real situation, she helped me pick up the disgraced tree and put it out on the deck, presumably as punishment. She even helped me clean up, sending me off to bed before she swept the floor...what a girl.

Twenty-four years, and our tree has never, ever fallen over. And it’s funny, but I’ve heard three other friends tell of their trees falling over this year, as well. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Christmas trees had secret lives, and maybe even a union. Could they be on strike this year…?

In his letter to the church at Philippi, Paul wrote,

“Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” ~ Philippians 4:5-7 (NIV)

I wish I could tell you I handled the whole tree crisis with poise and good humor. But the truth is I didn’t, and God’s grace, much less my gentleness, wasn’t evident when that tree fell. I’m not proud to admit it, but at one point I whined, “This freakin' tree is a symbol of my life!” And true enough, just when I think I have everything perfectly in place in my life, the whole thing is likely to topple over.

Tonight, the tree is lying naked in the yard, awaiting our decision as to whether it can be redeemed as “The 2007 Christmas Tree,” or whether it will be unceremoniously exiled and hauled to the burn pile. I’m not sure what to do with it yet, but I do know it’s just a tree, and I’ve still got three full days before Christmas to figure it out.

Merry Christmas, Mountaineers

2007-12-15T10:09:00.001-05:00

Looks like Santa came to Chattanooga early, and the Appalachian State Mountaineers were very good boys again this year!

Waiting on "Baby Cheesus"

2007-12-10T22:08:00.000-05:00
Christmas decorating is an evolutionary process in my house. If you’re not paying close attention, you won’t even notice it happening. Then one day (typically the week before Christmas) you’ll look around and think, “Hey, when did all of this happen?”

But there are a couple of decorations that I put out right after Thanksgiving, regardless of my crazy schedule and tendency to procrastinate. My Nativity scene is one of those.

Funny, but I still think of it as my father’s Nativity scene, even though it’s been in my possession for most of my adult life. Maybe I feel that way because it’s the one he purchased from Sears over 40 years ago and he never, ever let me or my sister arrange the paper mache people and animals, no matter how much we begged. If we moved one of the sheep even a fraction of an inch to the left when he wasn’t looking, he noticed and immediately put it back in its proper place. He would, however, let us wind up the music box – artfully camouflaged under the hay in the stable – and listen to “Away in a Manger” one time each night before Christmas.

I guess it’s really no surprise that, although I really tried to be more free with my own children and let them arrange everyone the way they saw fit, I would always go back after they went to bed and rearrange them the “right” way. Sheep have to stay with the shepherd – there’s no integration of livestock in my Nativity scene. The wise men stick together. Mary is on the right, Joseph's on the left. And everyone, animals included, are all gazing in awe and adoration at the babe in the manger who is, of course, front and center. Oh, and the angel hangs on a nail, hovering perfectly centered over the stable.

Hannah, my non-compliant child, insisted on rearranging the whole tableau every day, sometimes more than once. In her mind, the goal was to get everyone, even the cow, as close as possible to the Christ child. I’ve never read anything in the New Testament to indicate Jesus was claustrophobic, but if He was her scene would have explained it. Hannah was also responsible for placing the camel in the baby's place while the baby was hanging out with the angel up on the roof.

My son Ben, on the other hand, was fine with my arrangement. His only quirk was his inability to pronounce “Jesus.” It was always an exciting moment when we carefully unwrapped and placed the “Baby Cheesus” in the manger.

The Nativity scene has been displayed several different places in our home over the years, but most recently it has been safely tucked away in the bookcase. This placement was due, in large part, to me losing my mind one year when the children were younger and arranging the Nativity scene on an end table in our living room. I didn't realize it until it was too late, but this table was right in line with the hall, making it fair game for Hannah and Ben’s game of, “run down the hall as fast as you can and skid across the hardwood floor in the living room.” To this day Hannah maintains that everything would have been fine if she hadn’t been wearing her blanket as a cape. I still grieve for the donkey’s ear…

I treasure my Nativity scene, not only for its rich history, but for the beautiful story it depicts. And even though my children think they’re “too old” to get excited about unwrapping the pieces, I still take great pleasure in setting up it up.

Ironically, it makes me a little sad that no one sneaks behind me and changes it up when I’m not looking. I’ve come to realize that it really doesn’t matter where everyone else is, as long as “Baby Cheesus” is in the middle. I’ve heard people say they keep their baby figurine hidden away until Christmas Day and then they bring him out and place him in the manger. But for me, that’s a little too close to the way the world operates, bring the baby out at Christmas, only to wrap him up in a scrap of cloth and pack Him away for the rest of the year.

“And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.’” ~ Luke 2:8-12 (NIV)

Advent is a funny thing… While we’re awaiting the birth of Jesus, my “Baby Cheesus” lives, front and center, all year long. I’m awaiting His return, even as I’m thankful He’s already come. And the last thing I want to do is hide Him away until next Christmas.

Going for Three in a Row!

2007-12-08T17:25:00.000-05:00

I just had to share this picture from GoASU.com... Last night Appalachian State beat University of Richmond 55-35, earning a chance to win their third straight Division I National Championship in Chattanooga next Friday night. ASU's allotment of tickets sold out by noon today.

Joy to the World

2007-12-02T19:21:00.000-05:00

For the most part, I get dragged through December kicking and screaming.

I absolutely refuse to acknowledge the Christmas season before Thanksgiving comes and goes. And did you see the news footage from “Black Friday?” People getting knocked to the floor and trampled in a mad rush for half-priced toys and electronics … insanity! I simply don’t have the fortitude or the desire to participate, and besides, I had to work. But my friend Susan called me that morning to say she was on her way to a sale. After I asked her if she’d lost her mind, she said, “Oh my gosh. There’s a line to get into the parking lot!” Fortunately, she made it through the day without injury or incident, and claims she got some great deals. But I maintain the deals will still be out there in mid-December (by which time I’ll have done the majority of my shopping online).

Then there’s the decorating (I hate throwing my perfectly good pumpkins away), the scheduling (jamming three months worth of events into one month and figuring out who’s going to be where when over the holidays), and the cards (which also involves taking a picture both kids are willing to share with 75 of our closest friends and family). I could go on, but I’m probably stirring up angst (which, by the way, grows exponentially until December 25th). And on top of everything, there’s the ever-present Christmas music (Joy to the World, 24/7? Please!)

Now you’re probably waiting for me to exclaim, “Bah, humbug!” But I won’t, and here’s why: The Christmas Season is really no different than any other in my year. The focus of the Christian calendar shifts to encompass the advent and birth of the Messiah, but the truth is my joy remains the same during Christmas as it does during Easter, the Fourth of July, or Halloween, for that matter.

The other day I was walking into work and a co-worker asked me why I was so “up.” I said, “You know, I guess I’m just glad because my joy doesn’t depend on my circumstances … heaven help us all if it did!” And isn’t that the truth? Every day has its own troubles, whether it’s a routine day or the next 20 shopping days before Christmas. That’s a promise straight from the Bible:

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
~ Matthew 6:34 (NIV)

Happiness and joy are two very different things. You may not be happy with the way things are going in your life today, but if you have joy that comes from the Lord and your personal relationship with Him, there will be glimpses of beauty, moments of divine inspiration in even the most trying of days. That’s a promise, too:

“If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.” ~ John 15: 10-11 (NIV)

So I say Joy to the World … on December 25th, and the other 364 days of the year, too!

What's Your Plan?

2007-11-28T07:30:00.000-05:00

God Speaking
Written by Ronnie Freeman

Have you ever heard a love song,
That set your spirit free?
Have you ever watched a sunrise,
And felt you could not breathe?
What if it's Him? What if it's God speaking?

Have you ever cried a tear that
You could not explain?
Have you ever met a stranger
Who already knew your name?
What if it's Him? What if it's God speaking?

Who knows how He'll get ahold of us?
Get our attention to prove He is enough.
He'll do, and He'll use whatever He wants to.
To tell us, I Love You.

Have you ever lost a loved one
Who you thought should still be here?
Do you know what it feels like
to be tangled up in fear?
What if He's somehow involved?
What if He's speaking through it all?

Who knows how He'll get ahold of us?
Get our attention to prove he is enough.
He'll do and He'll use whatever He wants to
To tell us, I love you.

His ways are higher
His ways are better
And though sometimes strange
What could be stranger than God in a manger?

Who knows how He'll get ahold of us?
Get our attention to prove He is enough.
Who knows how He'll get ahold of you?
Get your attention to prove he is enough.
He'll do and He'll use whatever He wants to,
To tell us I love you
God is speaking, I love you

If you’re not an American Idol fan, you may not have heard of Mandisa. She was a finalist during the series’ fifth season, and she released her debut album on Sparrow Records this year. God Speaking is absolutely my favorite song on that CD, which my dear friend Debbie gifted me with as soon as it came out.

Debbie also invited me to a Beth Moore conference in Boone, North Carolina last May, where we saw Mandisa perform live with Travis Cottrell and the praise team that travels with Beth. I remember thinking, “Why in the world would anyone want to be the ‘American Idol’ when they could get paid for singing and praising God with thousands of other people, and tour with Beth Moore, to boot?” I understood a little better after I read her book, IDOLeyes, also courtesy of Debbie, but I still think Mandisa has a very cool job!

Last Thursday our family held hands and each proclaimed something we were thankful for before our Thanksgiving meal. As it got closer to my turn, my mind was overwhelmed with the possibilities. Of course I am thankful for my family, good health, God’s provision for my needs. But when I opened my mouth, something like this came out: “I’m thankful for all of the ways God works in our lives, when we see Him at work and especially when we don’t.”

I could tell you so many ways He has worked and is still working in my life, and for every example I could give, there would be countless others that I’ll never know about. Sometimes I’m just not as aware of His providence as I should be. In other instances I don’t believe it’s for me to know His ways, even when they have to do with me.

But here’s what I do know beyond a shadow of a doubt: I’d be lost without His hand guiding me. I don’t have to know the plan. Just knowing that it’s His is enough.

“‘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.’” ~ Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

Thankful Hearts

2007-11-20T22:50:00.000-05:00

"Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful." ~ Colossians 3:15 (NIV)

No question about it - Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I didn't feel that way when I was younger, of course. Then the "holidaypalooza" that Christmas has become was my first pick. After all, Christmas had a lot going for it: Gifts, flashing lights, a tree inside the house, and what seemed like an endless vacation from school. But the older I got, the more I could appreciate the simplicity of Thanksgiving.

Maybe it's because I don't have to fly anywhere during Thanksgiving week. But I think it has more to do with a holiday that's all about friends, family, food, and fellowship (ok, and football, if you're a fan). There's no pressure; it's just a day to be more aware of all we have to be thankful for. And no matter who you are, you have much to be thankful for. From each individual breath we take to our very lives, and everything in-between ... it's all from God, and it's all good.

So I wish you a wonderful day, filled with turkey that's not too dry, your loved ones holding hands around the table, and, if you're lucky, a nap in the afternoon. But most of all, I pray we will all have thankful hearts, each and every day.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Making Lists

2007-11-14T19:49:00.000-05:00

I am a list maker. Makes no difference what needs listing – groceries, gifts, things to do – I’m an equal opportunity lister. I think making lists makes me feel like I’m in control. And I know I get it honestly, because my mother keeps a list of things to tell me by her phone, waiting for my next call.

There’s not much gray area when it comes to listing things; you’re either a list maker or you’re not. But lately everyone seems to at least be interested in lists, even ones that don’t belong to them. One of the most interesting websites I’ve seen in a long time is FOUND, self-described as follows:

“We collect FOUND stuff: love letters, birthday cards, kids' homework, to-do lists, ticket stubs, poetry on napkins, telephone bills, doodles - anything that gives a glimpse into someone else’s life. Anything goes...”

FOUND is one of those sites where I could easily waste an hour or more just drifting through other people’s stuff, sort of like other people do at yard sales. I always check the “Find of the Day.” It’s fascinating, but I can’t really say why. The other day I even caught myself wondering if people ever make things up to send in. You know … they write a love letter, “spill” some tea on it, crumple it up a bit, and send it in with a great story about how they found it.

And FOUND isn’t new, so there’s much more than just the website. There are magazines, tee shirts, and “events.” Hannah even told me she discovered a whole book of FOUND grocery lists that she wants for Christmas.

Another interesting book I heard about recently also dealt with one man’s attempt to live his life according to lists. The Today Show billed, “The Year of Living Biblically: One Man's Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible,” by A.J. Jacobs, as, “52 weeks, 10 commandments, 1 extreme makeover.” Jacobs, who says he’s Jewish in the way the Olive Garden is Italian, changed his routine, diet, and even appearance in an attempt to “live Biblically” for a year. (I never would have thought “living Biblically” meant all that, personally.) Describing himself as a “reverent agnostic,” he admitted that he never could fulfill the law, not even for one day. He was truly astounded by how much and how often he sins – coveting, gossiping, and lying, just to name a few.

The Today Show piece was tongue-in-cheek, and clearly Jacobs was trying to sell books, but he insisted his quest was in earnest. He also said keeping the Sabbath enhanced his life, and that he’s much more thankful now. As a Christian, none of what he said really surprised me, but some of his revelations were encouraging.

Aside from the control issue I have with lists, I have also put myself “under law” with lists. I’ll tell myself, “Ok. If I accomplish 1, 2, and 3 on my list, then I will allow myself to ______.” Or I may rationalize, “Things will be different if I can just manage A, B, and C.”

But here’s a truth straight from the Bible:

“… if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.”
~ John 8:36 (NIV)

I am FREE. How can I forget that and put myself back under law so easily? It seems unimaginable because my freedom is such a treasured gift. But it happens all the same, and even worse, when I do that I not only offend the one who freed me, but I belittle His sacrifice to do so. As much as it grieves me to admit that, how much more must it grieve Him?

So what can I do but try to stick to grocery lists, to-do lists, and my Christmas list from now on. And the next time I catch myself struggling to fulfill my own list of “laws” in order to be “good enough,” I’m going to tear that list up (no, I’m not sending it to FOUND) and I might just work on a list of blessings, instead.

Men of Honor

2007-11-09T22:17:00.000-05:00

Memorial Day

They played Taps today, Daddy
Bright sunshine
Fluttering flags,
Tear-stained rugged faces.
We sang about out country, Daddy
Voices together
Blue sky and mountains,
Wheelchairs on the grass.
Pride and sadness
Interwoven like a tapestry,
Pieces on a quilt
We call America.
I decorated graves with a Flag, Daddy
Under that oak in South Carolina
Maybe someone honored you.
Liberty, Freedom, Peace
All that we cherish
Earned with a sacrifice unimaginable
Innocence lost, hearts broken,
Young lives abruptly ended,
And all too soon forgotten.
They played Taps today, Daddy
Did you hear it?
Somehow, I know you did.

For my father and all Veterans
Randall W. Smith

We paid tribute to the veterans of our church family last Sunday. It was a week early, but I was left wondering why we don’t honor them more often than just this one day each year.

One of my favorite people, Randy Smith, shared his thoughts about Veteran’s Day, and it was a sweet time of remembrance. When his father, a veteran himself, died, Randy had hoped Taps could be played in his honor, but it didn’t work out. Shortly thereafter though, Randy attended a Memorial Day service during which they did play Taps, and it prompted him to write “Memorial Day” for his father, “and all Veterans.”

Randy is a great guy… He is an amazing teacher, a lover of literature and good music, and the most enthusiastic Appalachian State fan you’ll ever meet, (In fact, he’s graciously making it possibly for our family to enjoy the last home game of ASU’s season next Saturday … is it any wonder we love this guy?) But more than anything, I think the thing I appreciate the most about Randy Smith is the way he’s living out his faith, each and every day, with everyone he meets. Randy is constant, a living witness to the God who loves us enough to seek a real and personal relationship with us … through the miracles of nature, the emotions of music, the lessons of history. I particularly admire his calling to teach young people, offering them a new and different perspective on religion that might not otherwise dawn on them.

Randy’s Veteran’s Day message was bittersweet, because one of his ‘heroes’ of faith had died in the previous week. H.C. Kiser, Jr. was also an amazing man with an even more amazing story, well known and loved by many people in these parts. H.C.’s plane was shot down while on a mission over Nazi Germany during World War II. He spent seven months as a prisoner of war, a circumstance during which God intervened in his life time and again in miraculous ways. Through the hardships of battle and imprisonment H.C. held fast to his faith, and he emerged having made a covenant with God, promising to share his story, in captivity and freedom.

And although he lived a very humble and quiet life locally after his service to our country, H.C. did share his faith whenever he had the opportunity. I was blessed personally to hear him give his testimony on more than one occasion, and in 1998 Beverly Harding-Mullins wrote his biography, Called to be His Servant – H.C. Kiser, Jr.

H.C.'s favorite Bible verse was,

“Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.” ~ Hebrews 13:5 (KJV)

Randy Smith always had great admiration for H.C., who was a personal friend of his, and I think it would be safe to say he aspired to be the kind of authentic witness H.C. was. I also think it’s accurate to say that, although his experiences have been different, Randy’s life speaks to people much the same way H.C.’s did, and that’s a powerful thing.

Randy’s poem, “Quiet Man” was included in H.C.’s biography, but he wrote this one for him, as well:

First Violet in the Spring

I have looked
upon the mountains
and seen the grandeur there,
the beauty of
the autumn leaves
birds sweet song so fair
Yes, and many a sunrise
I have pondered
and felt God everywhere
But this man
taught me more
than I could ever learn alone,
He loved the gift of life
his smile could melt a stone.
He taught us all
to love the Lord
to love our fellow man,
he never failed
to share a story
or lend a helping hand.
His presence will be
forever felt
my soul will always sing
whenever I look down upon
The first violet in the Spring.

For H.C. with respect and love, Nov. 7, 1998
in Blowing Rock, NC, 7:00 a.m.
Randall W. Smith

Haunting Haiku

2007-10-30T21:33:00.000-04:00

A snaggletooth grin,
My pumpkin glows in the dark,
Waiting to welcome goblins

Leaves crunch underfoot
Children run helter skelter
Don’t spill your candy

Bowl piled high with sweets
Giggles, flurry of footsteps
Bell rings – trick or treat

Black cats, witches brew,
Mummies, pirates, vampires, too
Who’s there? Oh, it’s you

Night of mystery
Hiding behind a dark mask
I am someone else

Circle of Grace

2007-10-29T21:31:00.000-04:00

I watched a great family movie this weekend which, ironically, starred Billy Bob Thornton. The Astronaut Farmer is the story of a former NASA astronaut who never made it out of training because he had to go home and help save the family farm. But he didn’t gave up his dream of space travel, and is pursuing it by building a rocket in the barn and making plans to launch himself into space. Amazingly, his beautiful wife (Virginia Madsen) and three adorable kids support this endeavor wholeheartedly.

In fact, the one time Virginia Madsen and Billy Bob Thornton argue, it’s over this issue and her perception that he’s not taking care of his family. (I don’t want to give anything away, but considering what’s happened so far in the movie, I have to agree with her.) But it’s the next scene that made the biggest impression on me…

She’s getting the kids into their old Suburban the following morning, and her husband follows her outside to try and keep her from leaving him. She tells him it’s Sunday, and they’re simply going to church. Then she says this: “So that I don’t get bitter … I’m going to have to try to figure out a way to forgive you.”

Virginia Madsen had it exactly right. We don’t need to forgive others for their sake, like we’re bestowing some great favor on them. God is the only one who gets to do that. Instead, we need to forgive for our own sake, so anger, disappointment, and resentment won’t consume us. It may take a long time and a lot of soul searching to get to that place where we can forgive, but there’s really no way around it.

In Colossians we’re told,

“Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” ~ Colossians 3:13 (NIV)

That’s an even better reason to pardon others. How can we possibly not, when we have been acquitted of so much ourselves? When we do, we become part of God’s circle of grace.

Oswald Chambers defines forgiveness as, “the divine miracle of grace.” When I first considered his description, I thought, “Well, that sounds really nice, and sure … if you’re God, miracles are a piece of cake. Not so much for us, though…” But then it occurred to me: Was easy for God to let his one and only son endure a horrific death on the cross? Would it be easy for any parent? Of course not, but He did, and it was all about forgiveness. Miracles aren’t easy, but that’s what makes them so, well, miraculous.

Do you believe in miracles..?