Homeward Bound

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

www.nataliedee.com

Guess who sent me this cartoon...

Can You Identify?

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

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

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

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

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)