Walking with God

A Mama’s Prayers

See, I will bring them from the land of the north
    and gather them from the ends of the earth.
Among them will be the blind and the lame,
    expectant mothers and women in labor;
a great throng will return.
They will come with weeping;
    they will pray as I bring them back.
I will lead them beside streams of water
    on a level path where they will not stumble,
because I am Israel’s father,
    and Ephraim is my firstborn son.
 
Jeremiah 31:8,9
 
Ever feel like you’re in exile? I think we all do at some point in life. Maybe you are in a job you hate but you know you need to stay there until retirement. Maybe you are in school and you feel like that is exile. Maybe, God forbid, you are in jail or prison. Wherever or whatever that exile is, you are not where you want to be yet.
 
As I have been reading through Jeremiah, I have wanted to get to the “good part.” Israel rebelled as a nation, adopted other religious practices that went against everything God and everything He stands for, even going as far as sacrificing their own children on altars to foreign gods. It is painful to read, knowing what’s coming.
 
Knowing they will be exiled from their homeland, expelled, taken into captivity. Again.
 
And yet, when I read these words, I thought about Israel today. I think about all they have had to go through as a nation and how God was faithful to His word. None of the powerful nations that went against them are around anymore, and Israel is still standing as a nation, as a people.
 
Flash forward to my life right now. And my life up to this point. How like Israel I have been, ignoring God, thinking I knew best, thinking I didn’t need church, breaking my Mom and Dad’s heart when I decided to give up food. And yet……
 
God was so merciful. He never left me. He brought me out of exile, back home where I belong.
 
I am at a crossroads at work right now, and as I was praying this morning, I knew that I had to once again, give it up to the Lord. I am burned out. There is no spark left in this fire.
 
And yet in other parts of my life the fire is blazing.
 
And anytime someone invites me to write or says what I wrote helped them? I am saved a little bit more.
 
There was a time long ago. God brought it to me again as I was praying this morning, like a sweet balm to my soul. All at once I was back home in front of the fire with my Mom. Tears sprang to my eyes as I remembered how she would get up in the morning before I got ready for High School and start a fire. She and I would watch 700 Club together, just the two of us.
 
And she would take my hand in hers, voice trembling, and pray for me.
 
She knew High School was my exile. It was so hard for me in so many ways. My Dad would have prayed too, but he was in his own exile at that time. A job he hated. And yet God brought him out of that too. Because of his never taking sick leave, he was able to retire at 62. A free man.
 
And because of my Mama’s prayers, I graduated and was removed from my exile too. Through it all God taught me the lesson of faithfulness, and never giving up because someone else is believing in you. And that God is with me wherever I go. And He caused some good things to happen in those four years too.
 
I wrote a poem for my favorite teacher back then, my music teacher Wylie Moffat. Even then words were longing to break free in me. He had it framed and it hung in his house up until he died. And my words were used on the cover of his memorial service bulletin.
 
Today, I am thankful for fireside prayers. They are still working.
 
Thank you Mom, for being so faithful.
 

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.

Are you ready?

From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him.“You do not want to leave too, do you?” Jesus asked the Twelve. Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that you are the Holy One of God.” John 6:66-69

I had just finished reading John chapter 6 during my prayer time a few mornings ago. I closed my eyes as I digested all I had read……this chapter is swirling with action. I needed to reflect for a moment on all I had read. It was just getting light out and I heard a dove calling from a few houses away. My little candle was flickering away silently casting a reflection in the little shop window.

I was surprised by a question that was breathed into my heart…..I had just read that saddest of verses, the one where many of Jesus disciples hit the road. It was another instance where Jesus had just finished confounding people with the truth, and it wasn’t want they wanted to hear.

“Are you ready to be my Disciple?” that was the question I heard.

I sat there conflicted. “Of course I am,” I thought. But then I remembered how many of them ended up.

And what was required. Am I ready to take a plunge off a 500 foot drop? Am I ready to commit the rest of my life to a God who commands the wind and the rain? Who can speak the world into existence? Who is many times unpredictable and scary? Am I ready to go wherever He asks? Wherever He leads?

Then I thought about life itself. If someone would have asked me when I came into this world, knowing what I know now, all I would go through, would I have so been quick to say, “Bring it on?”  I most likely would  have said no, I am not ready. Who is ever ready? 

But do I want to do it anyway, also knowing what I know now? And has it been worth it thus far?

To that I can give a resounding, and emphatical “Yes.”

God, in His great wisdom, chooses to bring us through a bit at a time. He allows some pain for growth, but also baptizes us with joy and wraps us in His love and comfort through His Holy Spirit.

That is where I stand today and rejoice along with the 12, for as Peter so rightly said,  “To where would we go?”

Indeed.

Thank you Lord, for giving me the chance at this wonderful adventure of following you. Everything this world has to offer pales in comparison to what You have to give. Amen

In the Refiner’s Fire

“I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance, but He who is coming after me is mightier than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fan is in His hand, and He will thoroughly clean out His threshing floor, and gather His wheat into the barn; but He will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.” Matthew 3:11,12

Thank you Lord, for my devotion time this morning. Thank you for Your Loving Presence today. Your Spirit holds my sins up to the light exposing them for what they are, so that I can confess them before you honestly and draw near to you once again.

Thank you for knowing the real me and loving me anyway.  Sometimes I don’t know how your Spirit, your Holy and perfect Spirit can tolerate living with mine, still so filled with the world and all its griefs, cares and worries.

Help my fears diminish, Lord, so I can be filled with your perfect love that your peace may take its rightful place in my heart.

And help me to see the small trials I go through in this life as Your refiner’s fire of love burning away all my impurities. In all the things we could ever hope to accomplish in this life, there is only this one thing that counts.

That we know you

and in knowing you, we find our true purpose in this life.

I lift the gifts to you today Lord, in gratitude of all you give and keep giving………The wonderful rain that poured down in this dry desert…….worship that comes in little spontaneous moments throughout the day…….a little extra money this month…….God’s continued protection when I don’t even know it……melons and okra sprouting like wildfire in the garden……..a good day yesterday…….seeing old friends again…….music that upliftts and burns hot in the soul in praise to God……answered prayer for a first day of school……a good walk this morning……911-921

Big Red

For the word of God <sup class="crossreference" value="(A)”>is alive <sup class="crossreference" value="(B)”>and active. <sup class="crossreference" value="(C)”>Sharper than any double-edged sword, <sup class="crossreference" value="(D)”>it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. Hebrews 4:12

I hold it to my chest, knowing what it contains……..all the mystery and words of life. I felt the power it held as I pressed it close. I would open it, but not yet.

Content in the weight of memory within, I hold it close and feel all the years behind it. It was my first real study Bible, one I bought during a Walk through the Prophets study at my church. It was the most beautiful book I had ever seen. The day I carried it home was April 19,1980.

When I first got it, I devoured it. I read it for hours. I loved the delicate rattle of the pages and the gilded edges when they caught the light of the lamp.

All these years, it has been by my side, though there were years when I left it untouched on the shelf. Even so, I knew the words of life that it contained. I had felt that lifeblood of its pulse flowing through my life. I could never deny it.

For these words are alive with the very breath and Spirit of God.

I have other versions now, but when I need to feel the hope of all that God has brought me through, the Red Bible, “Big Red” I call it, comes out. It is the best prescription I can think of for a heavy heart. It’s amazing really, how I can feel better just by holding it. The words within hold the healing, the hope. I know that without cracking the cover.

It holds memory, it holds life, it holds me.

The verses highlighted in yellow, the ones I clung to when I did my first solo in church, the personal notes I scrawled in the back on special days, things I never want to forget are there.

This old friend is in me and I am in it, I feel it as I hold it close. Tears have spilled on its pages and they do now too, as I remember the times it brought me back from darkness, death. Notes of mine are co-mingled with my Mom’s from when she borrowed it. That makes it even more precious.

I think of all the promises held in the Bible, and how each and every one is true. It is the one thing we can always count on. What in the world gives us that kind of hope? In the beginning was the word……and the word was God……and even beyond eternity it will still be there.

Last year it came unglued from the spine and I had to glue it back on…….and the leather cover is more pliable with every passing year. But its still the most beautiful book on my shelf.

I am celebrating His promises today, won’t you join me?

Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away. Matthew 24:35

So is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. Isaiah 55:11

The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever.” Isaiah 40:8

I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. Matthew 5:18

And the thunder rolled……

“Thus says the Lord……Stand by the ways and see and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is, and walk in it; and you shall find rest for your souls. But they said, ‘We will not walk in it.’ Jeremiah 6:16

As I read the words of Jeremiah this morning, reflecting on the wrath of God poured out on a disobediant people, I felt a chill crawl up my spine. Jeremiah had the unpleasant task to be the mouthpiece of God to Israel.

“My soul, my soul! I am in anguish! Oh, my heart! My heart is pounding within me. Because you have heard, O my soul, the sound of the trumpet, the alarm of war!”

Just then, as if ordered by God himself to put a little emphasis on His own words there was a terrible clap of thunder and I almost jumped out of my seat! The anger of God is something I never want to experience personally.

It is easy to feel a little “puffed up” as the Apostle Paul put it, when we read about all those rebellious things the Israelites did, how they strayed from God to worship foreign idols, statues that could neither talk walk or breathe.

How could they, we wonder? After God himself came down in a visual form…..a pillar of fire by night and a cloud by day? After all He had done for them? And all along, there is a loving Father who wants His people back. He longs to love and cherish them and yet they push Him away.

There was another loud clap and in my mind I remembered all those times when I myself have push God away, thinking I knew better….thinking the plan I had for myself was better than the one He had for me. And yet, His mercy and love have pulled me back, over and over again. Not once has He ever refused me.

Oh how He loves us…….His mercy calls us back, new every morning.

As with all things of nature, it thrilled me no end, that clear and powerful reminder. It reminded me this morning who is in control, and it is most definitely not me.

To watch a lightning storm is to watch the finger of God touching down on the earth, and to hear His voice in the thunder a gift, a marvelous thing.

His power, my weakness.

Stewards of His word…..

Then the Lord stretched out His hand and touched my mouth, and the Lord said to me…….

See, I have appointed you this day over the nations and over the kingdoms, to pluck up and to break down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant…….

And the word of the Lord came to me saying, “What do you see, Jeremiah?” And I said, “I see a rod of almond tree.”

Then the Lord said to me……..”You have seen well, for I am watching over my word to perform it.” Jeremiah 1:9-12

As I read these passages the thought came to me, “All of us who are writers are stewards of God’s words are we not?” It is extremely humbling. As I read these passages, it hit me. Those of us who write about the things of God need to be accountable for those words, not only what we say but how we say them…..

Today I am linking up with Duane Scott. He has some powerful and timely words that I wanted to share…….

Blessings and peace for your Monday, counting my Gratitude as well.

Coming and Going

“Love doesn’t hide. It stays and fights. It goes the distance, that’s why love is so strong. So it can carry you home.” Unknown

Somewhere in between longing and joy, regret and hardship, tears and laughter, there is a place we call home. When we go back we run into all that history, all those feelings, and in turn they run smack into everything that’s going on now. That’s why going home evokes so many powerful emotions for so many.

It’s the place and people you grew up with, the place you learned to sink or swim, or survive and thrive.

Somewhere in between the place we always seek to recreate and romanticize and the place we never want to see again lies that place we call home.

I go back to the place I spent all of my growing up years, so lots of memories come with it. The sorrows and the joys live there within its walls, along with those things that never seem to change.

The squeak in the porch step, the way the screen door sounds when it slams…….my Mom’s dryer that will never die, the one that never stops, all day long…….and that keeps spinning no matter if the door is open or not. I am convinced that God keeps all her appliances going.

And this time, the garage talked. The first time I heard it, it scared the daylights out of me. “Oh,” my Mom said, “Lauryn has a couple dolls out there that talk and it must be the motion that makes them go off.” I felt like I was in a horror movie where Chuckie the doll comes to life.

Everytime I go home I fry something. This time it was my Mom’s favorite hair dryer. I think it was going on its twentieth year. I looked up and the connection in the outlet was smoking. I caught it just in time.

My Mom constantly complains about not having enough electrical outlets, and it is a valid complaint. Back in the early sixties, they didn’t put outlets in every six feet, about two per bedroom was enough.

There was a new hood over the stove this time. I went to reach for something up in the cupboard and I almost needed a ladder. The new hood extended much further over the cupboard than the last one, but neither my Mom or Dad thought it was a problem when they bought it, they were just happy to have a new one.

The cat still loves to hang out in the sink. The first one liked it there, and so does the new one, amazingly enough!

My Mom still gives me the best of whatever she has. She insisted I have her new fan, not the one that rattles, and having body wash and lotion for me when I didn’t even think she heard me say I needed it. At eighty three she still seems to have everything everyone needs.

My Dad still says, “Everything is better when you’re here…..”

And when I close my eyes I still hear, “Watch me, Nori!” and it makes me happy but sad all at the same time.

My niece still has a problem saying her “L’s.” She was so thrilled that her Auntie was there with her, watching her swim. And she laughed and laughed at the video I made of her kitties getting into a tussle. Her favorite thing to do now is make videos of us when she thinks we aren’t watching and then laugh uproariously when we catch her at it.

I have found that going home teaches me lessons all over again. I learn things about myself and some of them don’t make me happy, yet I am thankful for them because without the realization, the change wouldn’t be possible.

Going home is made up of little hard and soft moments all strung out together.

I realized this, as Mom and I sat hand in hand watching Franklin Graham evangelize India. We each shed tears because how could you not, watching people who have nothing, suddenly gain everything? Part of mine were shed because everytime I am near them, I feel the weight of time pressing heavy.

We are a family in crisis mode, and aren’t we all? And sometimes, most times, I just don’t know to help.

One thing I do know to be true, the faith that has kept us together through so much still stands, will always stand. And always…..He keeps us.

And going home and coming home are both very good.

“The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.” Psalm 121:8

Why aren’t we working at our passion?

Make it your goal to live a quiet life, minding your own business and working with your hands, just as we instructed you before……1 Thessalonians 4:11

Maybe it is the line of work I am in, but everywhere I go I hear it, “If I won the lottery I would do such and such……” most of the time, they would not be doing what they are doing now. What they are doing now is putting in time, just like me. They work at something that is not their passion and yet due to economic reasons they can’t quit.

All over the world, there are hoards of us going to work already mentally exhausted. We want to get to the end of the week…..and why?  Because we are not working at something that gives us any true satisfaction. For that we have the weekend. We do the things we love on our days off.

Tomorrow, a co-worker and I will both return to work after being on vacation. I can speak for myself and I think for her as well when I say that we would both rather be somewhere else. We work in a highly competitive field, that of technology. The entire culture is built around being better, faster and cheaper than our competitors. And that ideology trickles down to us, the employees.

We feel we have lost our value. Our identity.

We can never be satisfied with what we were last year, last month, last week. That can really wreak havoc on your mental state. This is not to say that we don’t appreciate our jobs, we do. Each day I thank God for the job He has given me, and yet each day I ask myself,  how can I glorify God in my workplace when I am in the midst of burnout?

And why do so many work all their lives to retirement in jobs that they feel passionless about?

What is it about the American dream that is so alluring, so compelling, that we are willing to sacrifice what we love on its altar in order to get it? I have owned very beautiful homes, one of them in a pine forest on a custom lot with three stories reaching to the sky. But the truth is, this little two bedroom place has felt more like home.

I have learned to be content with less. I have grown close to the Lord here, it is a happy, peaceful place.

This week I will spend 48 hours of my life at work. It is 48 hours I will never get back. I think about all the people I have heard who have quit their day jobs and followed their passions. I remember the story of the big CEO who lost his job, went to work at Starbucks, found his life, and wrote a bestselling book about it.

By writing this post I am acting on my passion, but the challenge remains, how do I put that same passion into what I will be doing for 12 hours tomorrow?

Again I think, we were made for more than this.

We were made for abundant life…………….Jesus promised it.

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. John 10:10

Okay God, I’m Listening

 “Hurry is not ‘of the devil,’ it is the devil.” Carl Jung
I am guilty, I confess. Everyday I am in violation of the law. I go over the speed limit, and then I make excuses as to why. But really, I rationalize, who goes the speed limit? If you do the speed limit anywhere in the general metropolis of Phoenix, Arizona, you are in danger of being a victim of road rage, which could result in death, and that would be bad for your health. “I want to live,”  I rationalize.
After all, this is someone else’s idea of what is safe, not mine. 
Why do I feel I am except from following the established rules of the road. Why do I obey the other rules? Why not throw those out too? I think it boils down to a couple of issues, pride and rebellion. After all, I think I should be the one to judge what is safe for me. I know my driving ability.  I pick and choose which rules I think are important and let the rest slide. 
I treat them like suggestions, not laws.
I, I and I.
And, I wonder, what if I applied that rational of thinking to what God tells me to do in His word?  Do I treat those as suggestions too?  Or do I trust God and obey without question?
What actually started all this self evaluation this morning?
I was late for work. And I was mad that the back security gate was broken…..again. So this means I have to use the main gate which causes me to pull out onto a busy road which causes me to wait. I was distracted.  As I accelerated….just a bit,  and rounded the corner I was met head on by two early morning bicyclists.
The wife was riding on the side of the road, but he was in the middle and had to swerve out of my way. I saw irritation on both their faces. I was going slow, mind you, I was only 200 feet from my front door. But I was guilty as sin. My habit of speeding had convicted me, because I know what I do just about every day. And it’s wrong.
And what surprised me even more was how quickly I wanted to find a way to blame them. Just like Eve.
By the time I got to work, my conscience was as out of control as a raging fire. I felt as guilty as if I had fled the scene of a hit and run accident. I had put myself in prison and thrown away the key.
Then when I got to work, a co-worker described an accident they had to detour around. It was a fatality. A driver of a Toyota pickup, due to excessive speed had lost control and had been thrown from his vehicle.
And now someone had to plan a funeral.
Okay, God. You got my attention, I am slowing down now.