No Title

I don’t know if “No Title” is a title but it’s okay.

It’s Sunday and I should be getting ready for church. I’ve been up for hours, first Sissy-cat then Bo Bo, taking lap turns while I started my new book, Animal Dreams”, another Kingsolver. I had to turn Demon Copperhead back in. The writing was superb, but it was just too dark and I don’t need to be immersed in that darkness right now. Maybe I’ll pick it up again at a later date when my life calms down. 

Back to my present church apathetical malaise. I find I can relate easily to David as quoted in Psalm 42:4 when he says: 

These things I remember as I pour out my soul: how I would go with the throng and lead them in procession to the house of God with glad shouts and songs of praise, a multitude keeping festival. 

I feel like the lukewarm person that Jesus refers to when He says: “I would that you were hot or cold…..” I don’t know what’s causing it. I do know I’m happy when I go, but I’m also happy sitting here and of course it’s much easier. I have no excuse. 

Part of yesterday was spent with a friend looking over my brother’s house and everything in it for her expert opinion on the feasibility of holding an estate sale there. I thought she would run off screaming but she was undaunted. I was ready to empty the contents of the bathroom into a garbage bag to dump but she said no, that (emphatically!) “People will pay for that!” I obviously have no clue about this stuff but she does. 

She will let me know if she wants to do it, I have yet to hear back. If not, we will go in another direction. Maybe all this stuff is catching up with me. I need to go to church regularly and I need to walk regularly. Just not today. I am extremely satisfied with my stack of books right now. (Reading two and two in the wings) Kingsolver is my new favorite author.

I cleared a space for the four chairs I want down below in the little shack, but upon inspection this morning I saw a very fat creepy spider hanging by the doorway. I will have to spray the living daylights out of it before I brave the door. (Sorry Charlotte) I have no mercy and need to get things done. 

Today I will post this, then see what comes next. And tomorrow is another work day, and another work week closer to retirement. 

We did find a home for my brother’s two fish and it was kind of comical. I just couldn’t flush them! They were too happy. Elaine made the sacrifice of putting her hand in the slimy fish-poop water and scooped them out. I held them in their ziplock, still happily swimming into an unknown future. The guy at the Pet Supply got on his walkie-talkie and asked if they take (used) fish. He gave a conspiratorial glance and said, “Now’s your chance, leave them and head out the door and nobodies the wiser.” 

But then the disembodied voice crackled…….“Yes we will take them.” He said, “We’ll put them in an isolation tank for now.” I was impressed they cared that much.

Old Friend

It washes over me at unexpected times. That a chunk of my life is missing, E asks me if I want to go by my old home. (She knows I will say yes.) She goes by too after Walmart runs to see what’s what. What changes the new owners might be making. When I drive by it’s as if I’m gazing into the familiar face of a cherished old friend, not a place I once lived. No matter how it changes. I will remember…..

I remember little girl yellow and a record player on the floor. And ruffled chenille on the bed. My Mom so mad at the dog for lifting his leg right after she washed it. I remember backyard Birthdays, sheet thrown over the line and fishing for prizes which my brother and his friend fastened from the other side. Names of neighborhood crushes scrawled underneath the windowsills.

And sounds…..the funky doorbell I can hear so clearly. The particular slam of the screen door, the sound of my Mom singing and her voice telling me it was time to get up for school. My groan as I threw the covers over my head wishing for Saturday. 

On the other side of town, I see a sad row of buildings on Main taken over by the homeless, now rampant with drugs and stolen piles of garbage. In my mind I remember the sound our shuffling feet climbing the stairs to the upper room of the Mandarin House Chinese restaurant. We thought we were in Chinatown. The gentle clink of teacups and saucers. Okazaki’s was somewhere downstairs, the Japanese shop where they made the best snow cones. 

Memories can save us when everything around us is unfamiliar and changing. We walk about in a world we no longer recognize. We talk about it every day. Are we, (the sixty-somethings) the last to remember a world that was somewhat sane? 

Of course human nature has always been the same but I truly believe we are just now beginning to see the harmful effects of endless social media. It can’t be healthy to have events plastered our faces at every turn. The mind reels from it. There is no time for the mind to recover from one tragedy when you’re presented with another. 

But thankfully, some things will always remain the same. The important things. God knew there would come a day when we would need to derive comfort from looking up at the unchanging planets. He knew we would always need to gaze into the innocent eyes of a newborn to keep cynicism at bay. And to stand in wide-eyed wonder on the shore of an ocean which seems endless. 

It is Sunday, June 5, 2022, the day of Pentecost. Fifty days after He rose. And God is still in control. And I remember one day long ago when the Holy Spirit touched down in my little world. On a cold, foggy, miraculous December day close to Christmas. 

The Spirit will not always strive with men, but He was with me that day. And He’s with me still. I close my eyes and hear the peace murmured, the rustle of clothes and muffled kneelers leftover from Episcopalian days, and the Doxology from my Baptist days. And singing “Morning is Broken” on the dewy grass at a Methodist Sunrise Easter service. 

Life is good. Because God is.

Where Were You?

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I walked down to the river’s edge this morning and quietly marveled as I watched the world wake up once again. I thought of other times, other places. The sky aflame in the Arizona desert, the forest floor at the bottom of towering granite monoliths of Yosemite, the call of jays echoing from tree to tree. And of course, waking up to see the Pacific Ocean in all its vastness. Nature calls us to God like nothing else.

Over and over again I have found a place for my faith to rest in what I observe all around me in the backdrop of nature. When we do that we are basically agreeing with God that what He made was indeed good. It’s praise without words, when all others fail.

Job had a lot of questions after all he lost and suffered. I would have too. And God had a lot of answers. When He finally answered Iyov (Job), the Creator Himself drew upon the world He created:

Then Adonai answered Iyov out of the storm: “Who is this, darkening my plans with his ignorant words? Stand up like a man, and brace yourself; I will ask questions; and you give the answers!

“Where were you when I founded the earth? Tell me if you know so much. Do you know who determined its dimensions or who stretched the measuring line across it?”

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“Who shut up the sea behind closed doors when it gushed forth from the womb, when I made the clouds its blanket and dense fog its swaddling cloth…..

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when I made the breakers its boundary set its gates and bars, and said, “You may come this far, but no farther; here your proud waves must stop.”

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Have you ever in your life called up the dawn and made the morning know its place so that it could take hold of the edges of the earth and shake the wicked out of it?

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Which way leads to where light has its home? And darkness, where does it dwell? If you knew, you could take each to its place and set it on its homeward path. You know, of course, because you were born then; by now you must be very old!!!

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When it’s all said and done, Job replies basically “I will zip my lips now, I had no clue what I was talking about. There is nothing more I can say, other than to repent in dust and ashes.”

And when I look deeply into the night sky and realize I can only see a small fraction of what’s out there, there is nothing more I can say except:

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Thank you……I get it.

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Here I go again…..I had a paragraph written when the iPad just shut down. It saved two words. We awoke once again to smoke-filled skies due to fires both North and South of us.  I found myself staring at the sun as it rose bright orange. How often do you get to stare at the sun? I was wishing for my blue skies while others were enduring the horror of watching what they’ve worked for go up in smoke. They were having to wake up this morning without homes, pets, even loved ones. Just goes to show that on any given day, someone else has it worse than you, though that is small comfort when it’s you going through it. We did find out that two good friends made it out safely but it doesn’t look good for their home.

Yesterday at school the teacher’s brother-in-law come in and give a little talk to the kids for Veteran’s Day. He brought in all kinds of equipment they could try on. It was so very cute and the teacher took pictures of all the kids trying on helmets. Of course they have no idea of the horrors of war, thankfully. Abraham ran by excitedly  saying, “I am ready to go! I was born ready!” Yesterday was his Birthday and we found out he want to be a Veterinarian when he grows up. Layla turned towards me with the huge helmet wobbling on her head and both teeth missing in front, “Look Miss Lori!” It gave me the warm fuzzy feeling that happens often with 5, 6 and soon to be 7 year olds.

I kept Jacob occupied with a video to keep him quiet. He and I had our moments this week as every week. I get lots of sympathetic looks from all the teachers, principal and staff as I try to get him to get off the floor and walk to class or as I am wrangling him up or down the stairs. He is six and Down’s syndrome. He is cute and endearing and I have grown attached to him despite how frustrated I feel much of the time. On the plus side, I got an outstanding review from the Principal this week. It was much-needed validation that they are happy with what I am doing. (thank you God) the prayers have helped!

Whatever you are walking through this season my friends know that you are not alone. Those words ring hollow except when you know the God that went through the worst this world can offer for us all. The end of the story is victory. Every one of us can have a happy ending because Jesus didn’t stay in the grave. And that is what we ultimately have to focus on when our world is caving in around us.

“But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” 1 Corinthians 15:57

The Morning He Spoke

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He says, “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

I was in early morning prayer and my mind was like a superhighway. I have been job hunting and determined to keep walking through doors, keep going forward. I have had the interviews, filled out the applications for anything and everything I think I could remotely like or do. I interviewed for two positions, each of them for a Paraeducator in the Special Education Department. I was waiting for word.

Then I saw the application for the typist/office job at the school. My niece’s school. I went and got my certification for 46 WAM. One more word than I needed. I floated out of there with a prayer of Thanksgiving on my lips. One more reward, one more door. One more piece of paper in my hand that says I can do something.

You see, when you have been at a company for 20 years and have to look for something else it can be daunting. I am not young. Smart as whips twenty somethings are out there looking for the same jobs I am.

So, I was in prayer and looking for direction. I applied for the office job. I got a rejection from the first place I interviewed, and secretly breathed a sigh of relief. I was uneasy about the interview, the place. Now I was waiting for word on the other.

And it was in that place of indecision and fog of mind that it came like a Heavenly beam slicing into my heart. It was quiet but it was insistent. And clear as a bell. That’s why I knew it was from the Holy Spirit.

Be still, rest easy in my Grace.

And like all things that you know are from God, I wanted to keep it to myself for awhile. To cherish it. Part of me was afraid if I shared it, it would pop like a bubble and go away. Lose its power. Kind of like a dream you want to fall back asleep for. But the words stuck fast in my soul. I felt calmed.

And then I got the call and was offered a job as a Paraeducator in the Special Education Department. A job for which I have no formal training or education but that for some reason God thinks I can do. Because in all my years at Intel, He proved to me that He would always find a place for me. That whatever He gave me, He would help me do.

I was a small town girl in a big corporation. I had no degree and I was working around people with Masters and more…….And I retired from there after twenty years. It was Gods and my success story.

And I am about to enter another one. Friends, I would appreciate your prayers. I feel a bit like Maria leaving the gates of the Abbey headed for the Von Trapp mansion.

But I have confidence. This belongs to God, this venture. Don’t they all?

I am resting in His Grace and Philippians 4:13. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

 

 

What Nabeel taught me

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“If you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday……” Isaiah 58:10

Nabeel Qureshi 1983-2017

I read this book several years ago and since then I have followed Nabeel Qureshi’s podcasts and speeches via the RZIM website. (On the bottom is the tribute written by Ravi Zacharias who knew Nabeel very well).

I write this today because as many others who followed this young man via social media, I was deeply saddened to learn of his cancer and subsequent death earlier this year. Nabeel taught me something very important, and that is that a part of me needed healing. Through his actions of love toward everyone, including those who intended him harm and even rejoiced in his death, he reminded me of how Jesus wants us to love and that I needed more of that in my heart. Even love for the most radical, the most hateful.

The kind of love Jesus had even as He was being nailed to that ugly cross.

Nabeel taught me that as much as I might want to, I can’t use a wide brush to cover over a certain religion or people group. He loved until it hurt. He always debated eloquently but always answered hate with love. He met people on their terms, where they were. Nabeel allowed me to get past my hate of what Islam stands for and see the person behind the religion. The person as an individual.

There is a big old house that I used to pass by on my way to work. I am sure at one time it was a beautiful building, but now it houses a large group of Muslim men (I never see any women). Every now and then I see them gathered on the front porch. It’s a sad-looking building, neglected.

Usually the windows are closed, shades drawn. I found myself wondering what was being planned, talked about behind those walls. I found myself resenting their presence in our country. I thought of my Grandmother’s family who came here as immigrants with nothing. They asked for no healthcare or handouts, they just wanted to come here and make a positive contribution.

And then the day before I was going to post this, there was another incident. That kook in the truck yelling, “Allahu Akbar” mowing down innocent people on the bike path at the World Trade Center. I refrained from posting this. I couldn’t.

I returned to listening to Nabeel’s messages and then to his beautiful wife Michelle, who is carrying on his legacy since his death. I felt something break free in my mind and heart. I no longer felt the old ugly feelings. It’s no longer my battle who is supporting who. God is fair and just, and He is the one who blesses me so that I can pay my bills.

What Nabeel taught me is that there are hurting and lost among all people groups. What we all need is Jesus. Nabeel believed when it cost him his whole family. He believed and followed when the stakes were highest. And he never wavered.

Nabeel is missed by many people, including his wife and little girl. I don’t understand why such a bright shining star would blink out of this world so young. I don’t think God needed him in Heaven. I hate when people say that. But someday I know the picture will be complete and we will have to answers as to why some people leave this earth so soon. Until then, we can try to learn the lessons others teach us by their legacy of love and forgiveness.

Thank you Nabeel……….until we meet in Heaven.

http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2017/september-web-only/ravi-zacharias-nabeel-qureshi-apologist-rzim.html?start=1

******Further resources: I have recently finished another book called “Standing in the Fire: Courageous Christians Living in Frightening Times” by Tom Doyle. I feel it’s a must read for every Christian in America.

A Million Moments

 

Yet, you do not know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.  James 4:14

What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset. Crowfoot

Oh Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.  Psalm 139:1-4

Each of us is a life that God has started, a perfect work of art and beauty and passion and creativity. A million sacred moments, one after another. And each of us is bound up and held together by something that pushes us forward and dares to say yes to the start of the new day.

What is that thing that makes most of us even in the worst circumstances choose to keep going?  It’s the hope that beyond everything we have a sense that what we do matters and that if nature itself can rise again each day then we can too.

I believe that when God breathed His Holy breath into us He breathed hope into us too. Oh how we cling to hope, and we try to keep it going like fanning a flame that has almost gone out. Like it’s something we have to work at. We pedal faster and more furiously when we lose sight of it.

Then we try putting our hope somewhere it doesn’t belong and blame God for taking it away. But Hope in God will never disappoint. Maybe what He is trying to teach us is that we don’t have to work at it, we just have to rest in it.

In Him.

We are all unique creations and expressions of His great hope and love. We are all at different stages in our journey, but ultimately He has hope in us! Maybe what each of us need to do is hold out some of that hope to each other.

Remember that each of us is His precious work of art that started out perfectly good. He sees us that way still. I remember when my Dad used to paint watercolors and my Mom would tell him how good it was. She saw perfection, but he saw the one flaw. The next day there would be a black “X” over it.

Sometimes we put black X’s on each other. Done……spoiled…..finished……no good. But God sees our beginning and our end.

He has hope in you and me.

“And hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.” Romans 5:5

 

 

Butterflies and Caterpillars

 So we have stopped evaluating others from a human point of view. At one time we thought of Christ merely from a human point of view. How differently we know him now! This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun! 2 Corinthians 5:16,17
I was reading something  in a book titled, Classic Christianity by Bob George that struck a chord with me the other day. He was talking about how we walk around defeated because we have failed to recognize who we actually are in Christ. I think there is some truth to this. Sometimes in our efforts not to appear better than anyone else, we walk around like caterpillars instead of the butterflies we are. Who ever heard of a butterfly walking around in the dirt when they could easily fly, in fact, were made to fly?
I think there is a danger of identifying so readily with sinners that we fall into sin ourselves. Many people who continually talk of divorce end up divorced. It’s a delicate balance. Jesus was the master at this.  He was equally as comfortable in His skin in the Temple or at the home of “tax collectors and sinners.” Neither atmosphere changed who He was, and yet He made Himself approachable to Chief Priest and Prostitute alike.
While the Apostle Paul was fully aware that he wasn’t exempt from falling into sin, and that many times he was unsuccessful in his efforts to do the right thing, he also never forgot who he was in Christ. He didn’t live a defeated life! He didn’t let his failures keep him from what He knew was sure victory at the end of the race! He kept his eyes on the prize.
We hold within us the power of Almighty God in the form of His Spirit……..the same Spirit that moved across the waters before creation…..also the one who raised Jesus from the grave and broke the power of sin and death forever….That Spirit!
We should never forget what Jesus has saved us from, but we should also remember that when we rose up out of that water from Baptism, we became a new creation!
So enjoy your flight today……and as they say on every flight, feel free to move about the cabin…..

Down a dusty road

 

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Lest I forget:

“……..And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age. ” Matthew 28:20 ESV

“And He has identified us as His own by placing the Holy Spirit in our hearts as the first installment that guarantees everything He has promised us.” 2 Corinthians 1:22 NLT

It’s easy to get lost down here. Lately I have forgotten my place in God’s adopted family; that in fact I am God’s own, that I belong to Him. I guess I just haven’t felt like it. It’s like there is a mist between us, and yet I know from years of traveling this road of faith with Him that it’s never God that pulls away. The Holy Spirit has promised to go the distance with me until we are reunited with the Trinity on the last day.

And yet……I do believe sometimes God withdraws (as if behind a cloud) just enough to allow us to draw on our memories and assurances so that our faith has a chance to stretch and grow. This morning, as I felt that familiar emptiness that has enveloped me for months, I sensed Him telling me:

Look back along the dusty road we have walked together, you and I

“Remember me on that foggy morning right around Christmas long ago? Remember how I filled the room with my Presence and how it’s just as real today as it was all those years ago?”

I was with you then and I am with you now

“And remember when you took those first shaky steps down the aisle at church?”

I am just as real today as I was then

It’s true, He is…..(You are, Lord)

I have volumes and journals of our travels together, Jesus and I. Almost fifty-eight years full, and I can rest on faith even when I feel a distance, and that makes us all the closer in the long run.

I am so very thankful He has promised to go the distance with me.