Reflection

Of perfect storms and sparrows

Since I started in this new area at work, I have unvolunteered myself for a couple of things I really had no business volunteering for in the first place. I know me right now. Several things in my life right now are stressing me out big time. When I started counting them all I realized it would be even more amazing if I weren’t stressed.

Today started off strange right off the get-go. The person I left at my station last night had transformed herself into a cactus. She focused her prickly laser-like vehemence on me as soon as I came in. It seems I left one thing undone which she proceeded to turn into her own personal very big deal. She left a nasty gram in bold print on my computer, detailing everything that happened as a result of my little mistake. The mistake by the way, that could have easily been corrected in about 5 minutes if she had chosen to respond in a different way.

I felt bad for her co-worker, who is a very nice lady.  She was rolling her eyes behind “the talking cactus.” Then later, I was scolded for not showing up to lead stretches yesterday afternoon. That was my fault, it was my turn. Not only that, I was told that my stretch leading was not adequate. I needed to hold them for 20 seconds each and include more of a variety. So I marched over and took myself off that list too.

Sometimes we disappoint people, ourselves, God. It can’t be helped. I have learned some things through this, though. That if you are stressed to begin with, don’t raise your hand up in the air and volunteer for more.

Sometimes you have to take care of you.

Sometimes you just have to “check out”

After the stretching incident I went outside for a few minutes to regroup and play my “Words with friends.” It helped.While I was out there, I studied a little brown sparrow on the wall. I meditated on that little guy.

I noticed all the variant shades of brown. There must have been 20 that I could see. He was really a work of art. Then I remember what Jesus said about sparrows…..how they are valued by the Father. Noticed, counted. And how not one of them falls to the ground without Him knowing.

And He values you and me even more, much more, the Bible says.

I breathe deep. I start over. And now I will say a prayer for the counterpart that will come in tonight. I will be kind. Because I know there must be a reason why she acts as she does.

I also know that despite all the conditions in my life right now that are threatening to create that Perfect Storm? I have resources, I have people in my life who help me, support me, love me. And some have none of those things.

And writing about it really, really helps.

And most of all? I know the One who specializes in calming stormy seas.

What makes a home

 
I never thought I would live in a “retirement” community. I had many preconceived notions, some of which were true. The high point of the day for some is getting the mail. When you walk at night the motion detector lights salute you all the way down the street. And if you leave the water running, there are always those who act as if they personally had to pay for that extra water running down the street.
 
And I complain because every time I want to use the treadmill someone has gotten to it first. I gave up and started running on the pavement, and that is probably why my back feels like it does now.
 
A plus side, if you could call it that, is that you are reminded of your mortality at least once a week when the firetruck or ambulance comes through. You learn who gets a regular visit….who is on oxygen, who is taking care of a terminally ill husband or wife.
 
You know Larry by the loud burst of song as he walks out the door to walk his dog Annie. Rosalee walks with sticks. And I hold the distinction of being the only “runner” in the park, though I use that term loosely. Now I am the crippled runner until I can find a spot on the treadmill.
 
There are plus sides to this life. Many times I don’t lock the door and I never lock the car. People watch your stuff. They let you know when someone has been there when your not at home. When I moved into this place, the motive was to get out of debt……..It is the best thing I ever did.
 
I had a beautiful custom home up in Payson, and I was in a very nice home before, and the two previously. But honestly, this manufactured home feels more like home than all the others.
 
Some people were downright upset at this decision. They thought we were “taking a step down.”
 
But I have felt closer to the Lord in this place than I have felt anywhere else. That is what makes me feel more at home here than any of those others. I am proud of what we’ve done to make it a place of warmth and invitation. A place that makes you want to stay awhile.
 
 
 
Home is where you feel at peace, wherever that is. Home tugs at your heart.
And if you don’t feel a warmth when you look through the windows at night? You are not home yet.
 
And for me, home always holds a bit of sorrow right along with the joy. The walls hold the good times but also the hard times. The times of sacrifice. But always, home is a refuge from the world outside. I never leave without carrying a bit of it with me.
 
And you see those stacks of wood I purposefully left against the side of the house? Those represent making a place even better than when you found it.
 
I think that makes God happy. After all, it’s what He is trying to do with me. And when I get to my permanent home? I will be much better off than when He found me.
 
I will finally be complete.
 
“……..being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”

When you feel de-valued

She heard the questions she has heard so many times before falling around her, and her own hollow answers bounce back against the walls…..the ones they wanted to hear. As she walked out, the real answers thundered around inside her head. Just once she wanted to give the real answers, not the ones pertaining to the company.
What grade are you?
What am I meat? If I were tuna I would be dolphin safe 100 percent albacore fillet baby!  USDA grade triple A. I am all but signed sealed delivered to Heaven, the fact that I am not there yet, means I am still breathing. God proved it with His mark of the Holy Spirit. I am a little lower than the angels, that’s how the Bible describes me……that’s what grade I am. Take that.
Do you have any aspirations of higher learning?
What kind of question is that? Of course I do. I hope and pray that I am learning a little bit more each day I am on this earth as God in His great mercy grants me the time. I would spend everyday in a classroom if I could, but I really do need to pay bills. I believe in improving myself and my mind because God gave it to me to use, not to waste. I would go to writing classes, music history classes, and religion classes everyday if I could and be a professional student…..I have motivation and I look forward to getting up in the morning , I am not a slothful unmotivated person when it comes to learning, despite what my resume says.
The truth is, there is something not right about this ‘ol world system and we all know it. It is broken. Many times the workplace pits us one against another, and there must be a system of measurement used to set us apart. Too many times, this system makes us feel de-valued as people.
As as result, we walk out of meetings feeling two feet tall. But here is the truth…….God numbers every hair on our head.
”Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows. Luke 12:7
And even though we are living in a dark world, we are heading into a world of light, where God is king……..”for you were formerly darkness, but now you are Light in the Lord; walk as children of Light” Ephesians 5:8

This ol world is groaning under the weight of sin and the curse and that snake still slithers in the grass though he knows his time is short.

We are all a spark of divine fixed with an eternal destiny….all of us a combo plate of heaven and hell.  

As I stood at the counter this morning, it felt good to say “No meat” for my breakfast sandwich. Though I know that meat is permitted and God has called it all good, I also know that in the beginning, animals were meant for companionship and not food.  

Way back when, when God presented them to Adam and he named each one. I like to think he put his hands on each of their heads when He did it.

 “And the Lord God said, “It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him a helper comparable to him.” Out of the ground the Lord God formed every beast of the field and every bird of the air, and brought them to Adam to see what he would call them. And whatever Adam called each living creature, that was its name.” Genesis 2:18,19

And God called it all good. And it still is.

 

“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.”  Philippians 4:12

This morning in prayer, all I heard were the cars zooming behind the house. I ached for quiet. The kind of quiet you find in the country, or sitting at the base of a massive redwood with only the wind sighing above. Everything in my brain is noisy lately.

It is cooling off some, and for that I am very grateful. Here in the desert, it’s hard to remember what season you’re in. I forget what month it is. It feels more like Spring than Fall. The garland I strung, along with the fall wreath of yellow and orange and brown remind me that it’s near. That other places have crisp mornings with the promise of frost, crunching leaves underfoot.

I couldn’t hear the birds over the cars either.

I longed for the company of a quail or mourning dove. But then I sensed God saying……”Do you come out here to seek me or hear the birds?” I thought, “Well, to sit in Your presence of course, but the birds are a nice touch.” Maybe He allows distractions, and maybe He even sent the birds away for the morning.

And maybe I needed to be reminded that life, and prayer, are sometimes as dry as toast.

And it’s perfectly okay.

Because wherever He is, there is beauty and truth, and everything we need.

He is all I need, more than enough like the song says. Somehow, by His grace through the years I have learned this secret. To open my eyes to the extrordinary in the ordinary and lift out the miracle that resides within. All around us are people who need a miracle, and we can give it to them.

Because He has called us “friends.

Car Dreams

Everyone who knows me well, knows about my funky car dreams. I have had them for years. Sometimes I am driving in a very small car with no bottom and I can see the road speeding along under my feet. One night I actually lost a shoe and had to go back for it. In that same dream I was able to pick the car up and turn it around and go get my shoe. What is great about the small car dreams is that you can park them anywhere.
Other times I am driving in half-light. It is almost light enough to see but not quite. It’s like I am driving without my glasses on in the dark.
Many times I am riding in a speeding car in the back seat and I realize no one is at the wheel steering or controlling the car. I hastily try to get behind the wheel, but I can never seem to get there. Sometimes I see a stop sign or an intersection where the light is red and I am powerless to stop the car. I usually wake up before I hit anything.
Other times I am going somewhere with no clue as to how to get there and yet I keep going anyway. Many times I am driving over a very high overpass with water on all sides. The view is breathtaking and it’s almost as if I am flying but there is an acute sense of fear as well. (Oh, I have flying dreams too but that’s another topic)
One thing I notice in all these dreams is that the car seems to be driving itself and turning itself but I realize that I have to get control before disaster strikes. I always wake up before it does.
Last night was something new. I dreamed I was driving backwards. I was driving my Dad’s old van and going from Lodi to Stockton (around a 15 minute drive) I was driving around 55 mph, all the time looking behind me and in the rear view mirror.
I woke up exhausted.
Dr. Freud would have a field day with me. But I actually think its pretty simple. God is telling me that it’s safe to let go of the wheel as long as He is in control.
I will save the “teeth falling out” dreams for another time.

A doll story, but not just for women

For those women who still have dolls, and the men who love them…….. Not the dolls, the women.

I was late to like dolls. When I was around 4 or 5 I wanted to be like my brother…..I had a name picked out and everything. I wouldn’t wear anything but cowboy boots, jeans and flannel shirts and insisted on wearing boys tennis shoes. Black high tops to be exact. It is to their credit that my parents actually bought me a pair and let me wear them.

Every now and then we fish them out of the cedar chest and laugh……

My parents figured it was a phase, and they were right. They held their breath and played it cool. They didn’t freak out and drag me to the child psychologist and I really respect them for that. 

Anyway, I wanted a horse, I prayed for a horse. I had a plastic collection of no less than 10. Some had broken legs and we had to scotch tape them back on. My Dad got creative with spray painting some of them if that particular month I just had to have one like little Joe’s black and white pinto on Bonanza. We lined them all up and played for hours, the neighbor girl and I.

When I was around 6 or 7 I decided I liked to wear dresses and cute clothes. Though I held onto my passion for horses, one Christmas I got a little rag doll who played a lullaby. I promptly fell in love with her…….she had a blue dress and yellow yarn hair. She was my “special” present that year.

I had a succession of dolls after that, and I loved them all. We had an emotional connection my dolls and I.

I had barbie dolls, wanna be barbie dolls, troll dolls, little kittle dolls and paper dolls. Some of my cousins had collector Shirley Temple dolls. My cousin June had a big floppy life-size doll her brothers used to roll down the stairs. They loved how life-like she looked as she fell to her death. They also attached explosives to her. They were sick.

My friend had an African American doll when she was growing up in Texas. She loved that doll and her Dad threw it out because it was the wrong color. I don’t think she ever forgave him for it. All these years later, she has looked for one like it in antique shops, even EBay. She’s never found one.

One day I went into my favorite gift shop with my Mom, and there on the bottom shelf was the most adorable doll I had ever seen. I had to have her. She had long brown hair that looked real. She is pictured on the right. I named her Suzanne, after a Judy Collins song I loved.

The other doll belonged to my Sister in law who has been in Heaven now since 1998. My Mom had her for awhile, but ran out of room to display her. She was gathering dust in the same trunk my old shoes were in, so I bundled her up and brought her home.

The strange thing about that doll? Shortly before I got married my maid of honor got sick with the chicken pox and couldn’t do the ceremony so my Sister in law graciously stepped in and fulfilled her wedding duties, perfectly I might add…….including wearing the beautiful peach colored dress I had picked out for my friend. The very same color this doll wears today.

She’s almost as beautiful as my Sister in law was. It is safe to say that I am emotionally attached to both of these dolls. It’s what they represent that I hold close, all those good times, safe times. For a few moments I am a little girl again, lost in the wonder and magic of long ago. When dolls were more than just dolls.

I remember every one of them like old familiar friends.

And when I watch my little niece with hers now, I smile and my heart glows warm.

I remember when all over again.

Letting my yes be yes

“But let your statement be, ‘Yes, yes ‘ or ‘No, no’; anything beyond these is of evil. Matthew 5:37
waf·fle 2 (wfl) Informal
v. waf·fled, waf·fling, waf·fles
v.intr.
To speak or write evasively.
v.tr.
To speak, write, or act evasively about.
n.
Evasive or vague speech or writing.
I have learned this one the hard way. I am someone who likes things peaceful and smooth. I don’t like conflict and I am many times too quick to agree or not agree with something if it means not making waves, or making someone else happy. I want to please people. But in the long run, I end up not pleasing them or myself.
Many times in life I have found myself in the uncomfortable position of volunteering or saying yes or no to someone or something and then almost immediately regretting it. In my defense, I have to say that I have gotten better in this area.
I have only come to understand and appreciate what Jesus is saying here more and more as I have gotten older. What he is saying is: “Hey, you will save yourself and others a whole lot of grief if you just give a simple “Yes” or “No.” If you vacillate and agree to something you really don’t agree with or want, you will compromise your character and more than that, and this is the part that’s really painful:
It is poor reflection on God’s character as well.
Not to say that God’s character can be changed because of what I do, it can’t. But if I say I am a believer and people know that? They have a right to expect a certain amount of integrity.
And if people can’t trust my word?
They can’t believe what I say. And what I stand for is in question too.
I had a friend who always had to pray about everything before she agreed to it. Secretly, I used to think that was kind a cop out. A way to get out of doing things. But now?
I am starting to see the wisdom in it.
It saves a lot of time and trouble in the long run when I don’t have to run around doing damage control. It makes others feel much more confident in me.
And me more confident in myself.
What do you think? Have you ever agreed to something and then been really, really sorry?

Remembering

“I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.”  John Muir
I am missing the trailhead today…..I remember so vividly, the feel……the crunch of walking over the earth, scrambling over the rocks, the stab of the walking stick as each step measured, and the grand rhythm of it all. It is a constant ache in my soul that never goes away.
To get back there.
Some people say, I am a mountain person, or I am an ocean person. I am just a nature person, displaced into a town, a transplant. In some ways I think we all are, and forever trying to find our way back home.
We have this pattern we walk because we have to. And places we must go, and they are all good places, but we know it’s not the pattern God originally picked for us. Not this meaningless counting out of days we work, so we can be off.
And so we go the trailhead or the shore to remember the truth of how it is supposed to be, and how one day it will be again,  when He welcomes us back home for good.
I have been there, I have stood on the shore, and climbed to the top and felt the exhilaration of being Home. That place where we recapture our soul once more, let it find wings and fly home.
Click…….I can almost hear the missing piece snap back in place.
Even the trees and the waves whisper………Why have you waited so long?

“The grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never dried all at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls. ” John Muir

Every Moment Counts

He made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed times and the boundaries of their habitation,  that they would seek God, if perhaps they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us;  for in Him we live and move and exist, as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we also are His children.’ Acts 17:26-28
God is waiting for us to invite Him into every moment of our day, and in every aspect of our lives. Just imagine…….He is already there and ready to make every single moment a Holy moment. That is something that is entirely possible when you realize just how close He really is.
Just imagine, every moment a sacrament…..walking to work, stopping for coffee, waiting for the bus, sitting down to your desk……imagine Him there, just before the phone starts ringing.
In every real moment of our lives. He is.
I often think of those moments right before September 11, 2001. If those people had known what was about to hit?
How incredibly Holy and precious each moment would have become.
But none of us really knows at any given time what is about to happen. That is why each and every moment matters.
Each one counts……savor the day.


Chicken Wars

They are like trees planted along a riverbank, with roots that reach deep into the water. Such trees are not bothered by the heat or worried by long months of drought. Their leaves stay green, and they never stop producing fruit. Jeremiah 17:8

Chick-fil-a boss Dan Kathy has been taking a lot of flack these days for coming out and saying that he supports the traditional view of marriage. And those who exercised their own free right to support someone who was exercising their free right to free speech by going to buy a chicken sandwich yesterday are taking the flack too.

Yesterday, we didn’t see anything at all uncommon. We saw Americans doing something that has been part of our culture ever since a group of rabble rousers threw some tea overboard in the Boston harbor. They were putting action behind their beliefs. Taking a stand….backing up someone they wanted to support.

Independence and individuality is something that flows through the veins of our country’s DNA. It is built into our constitution and framework of our entire belief system. But it is not always easy to know when to step up and when to back down. At what point do we act on our beliefs?

Do we act on them even if by doing so we further widen the gulf between differing views by making it about “us” versus “them?” Someone has to be the enemy. Someone has to be wrong.

Many of the comments I read  opposing the support of Chick-fil-a were very troubling. It seems many people have very definite, and in my view, warped ideas about Christianity and Christians in general, most of them not favorable, some of them outright disturbing.

We were labeled, fundamentalist, racist, gluttonous, stupid, ignorant, hateful, uneducated and uninformed. And the Westboro Baptist Church kept popping up in comments, as though all Christians should be branded with that particular (and I use the term very loosely) church.

You could argue the point that if the church and Christians in general had done a better job historically of loving and reconciling people of differing viewpoints maybe this all wouldn’t be an issue. But then again, no one ever loved and forgave and tried to reconcile more than Jesus, and they crucified Him for it.

Because they didn’t want to hear the truth. They didn’t want to be told what they were doing was wrong. Lets face it, none of us does.

And the very same spirit that existed then, continues to wreak havoc in the world today. He is our true enemy, and he has only one goal. To Kill, To Steal, To Destroy……Lives. That’s been his goal from the beginning.

Hurting people sometimes strike out against something they may not even fully understand themselves. The enemy is the spirit behind the hate, and it is he who we must fight, always. Never the individuals.

There is a war we are in. But it’s not us against them. It is God against all sin whatever the flavor.