WARNING(S)

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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

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

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

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

Out of Focus

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

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

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.