Of Iphones and Idols……

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Just the other day I was sitting at my workstation glancing idly at my IPhone and one of our bosses asked me if I was “one of those people” hooked on social media. I had to pause for a moment and smile remembering the time B.I. (Before iPhone/iPad) entered my life. And I confess, I caught myself feeling a little bit defensive, like tiny little fists were rising up from somewhere inside. “Well, I used to” I said, “when I first got my iPhone.”

I remember the day clearly. She was going out to get a new cell phone and asked what I wanted since both of us were on the same phone plan. “Oh,” I said,  “I don’t care, just get me a cheapo. I really don’t use the one I have.” At that time I had a little flip phone which was red and cute and mostly it just layed there unless it rang.

About 2 hours later, she came home triumphant and smiling, white Apple store baggies swinging from each arm. She held them aloft and despite myself I was curious.”I got one for you too!” She said. I opened the box and It gleamed at me from its little resting place. It could have been my imagination but I think it might have winked at me.

We were like little kids. well, mostly I was. Me, miss “I don’t care what you get” had turned into a full-fledged IPhone junky. These weren’t just cell phones, these were iPhones after all. The portent of change was crackling in the air.

Finally, I had it in my possession; all backed up, synced and ready to use, I felt a little bit like Mary Lennox when she first discovered the Secret Garden. This was a window to an entirely new world. I was enraptured with all the Apps I could get. And they were free for goodness sake.

I jumped in with both feet. Or both thumbs as it were. I was texting for the first time in my life. This was better than shopping. I got an Instagram account, then I joined Twitter. Later I discovered Pinterest and before I knew it I had over 3000 pins. I got an iPad for my Birthday. I was irrevocably hooked.

I kept trying to convince my Mom that technology and computers are not the Antichrist. When I went back home I would show her things to prove my point. She didn’t budge; though I did sense a weakening in her resolve when I showed her the You Version Bible App.

It was all wonderful until the day my best friend looked up at me with a hurt expression. “We don’t talk anymore.” She had been suffering in silence, carrying a burden I could have helped her bear, but I was too busy to see it. That pulled me up short.

After that I learned to keep a more balanced perspective. I have backed off from some things. Along the way I have learned that technology and social media have indeed enriched my life in ways I never expected. But all things in moderation. Technology is not evil in itself, despite what some believe. Like anything else, it has tremendous capacity to be used for good and evil.

With the help of technology and social media, we have the added blessing of casting our net a bit wider and extending our circle of Grace. It’s a wonderful thing. But it must never come at the expense of the people in our lives. The ones we live with, the ones who need to know we are still there.

I’m sharing this story as part of The High Calling’s community link-up. You can add your voice to the “Technology at Work” conversation here.

Photo credit: www.Icanhascheeseburger.com

Circled in Grace

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I’m one of the lucky ones. Or since I don’t really believe in luck I’ll use the word blessed. I have heard over and over again the story of when I was born. How my Mom was visiting her sister and that particular day she just had to go shopping in San Francisco. And how that night she went into labor 3 months early. She told me how scared she was, how unprepared they all were.

How if she hadn’t been close to Stanford Hospital that weekend I might not have made it. 

I have heard my survival story over and over; how everyone prayed for me as I fought for strength, all 3 pounds of me in that little incubator for weeks and weeks. I have heard how worried my Grandparents were. Maybe they were thinking of their little Annie who they lost when she was four. I was anticipated……wanted…..sought after. What a gift.

The most important phrases that my parents sewed into the fabric of my life early on were “I love you” and “You are a survivor.” Sometimes we don’t realize the power of our words. Good, affirming words spoken over us when are very small will be carried over all though our life, and so will destructive, wounding ones. 

They believed I had strength, that I was a survivor, and as a result I believed it too. That one phrase has helped me get through all the tough times in my life, because when someone believes in you, you give yourself permission to do the same.

The best way we can value our kids (and even each other) is by telling them how happy we were that they were born. And how happy we still are by celebrating their life in all the little everyday ways. Tell them about how the world outside stopped when they saw you for the first time. Give them a place of importance by telling them what you observed and remembered about them as they were growing up. Most of all, speak words that bring life. Words that make them bloom.

But over and above everything I said up to this point, you need to know that even if it seems no one cared or took notice of the day you were born, God did. In fact, let me take it back even a little further than that. God Himself goes as far as saying that before you were even born, He saw you.

Our life is circled in grace friends. Double circled and outlined in red. There is a star by your name. God has highlighted us in grace. If our life were a book, God would highlight and dog-ear every page. We matter that much.

If your loved one’s voice doesn’t tug at your heart, take a step back and remember when it did. Remember……there is power in remembering too. Remember as far back as God does.

He loved you before you were born, and He will keep loving you beyond your very last breath. Take a step toward the circle of His grace today. I invite you.

For you created my inmost being;
    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well.
 My frame was not hidden from you
    when I was made in the secret place,
    when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
    all the days ordained for me were written in your book
    before one of them came to be.

Psalm 139:13-16

Photo: An older picture I took of my niece Lauryn. Her voice makes my heart melt.  

When Words Fail

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I am sitting in a little coffee shop I have always wanted to go to but never have. Today seemed right. I have just found out a friend and his wife have lost their baby. My friend loves coffee and tea shops so I thought it fitting that I come here because he would like that. So I am here honoring he and his wife, and their little one that was never to take first steps on this earth, but in Heaven instead. What can I possibly say to their grief except that I am praying for them, and I am.

The cinnamon topped Chai is wonderful on my tongue, and my background noise is the sound of Mahjong tiles rattling against the wood surface of the tables. It seems these ladies are regulars here and I am enjoying their banter. “Are you ready to make your move?” One of them says.

What a question. Any given day we could ask ourselves the very same question. Life is full of moves. Sometimes it’s one step forward, two steps back. Sometimes it’s an unexpected chasm of grief we have no clue how to get around. But this right here is life. And it’s good for me right this moment, so I grab on and say a prayer for my friends.

Another friend has been trying to conceive for years. The dreams and hopes to have a child of their own have not become a reality for she and her husband. It doesn’t make sense really. People have babies everyday without even trying. Sometimes I wonder why God allows certain people to have kids they don’t even seem to appreciate or deserve. And then there are those to whom another baby means a paycheck. I can’t even speak to that.

We create life, and just as easily, some of us snuff that same life out as a matter of convenience, or fear, or something else. And as Christians we don’t like to think about it. It’s the law of the land after all. I worry for our country and the direction it has been going for a while now.

My friends will be okay, because they know God and though they may not understand His answers or His silence, they trust Him anyway. Despite everything that happens in their lives, they know their Redeemer. And they know in time, He will lead them to the other side of this sorrow.

And someday, either on this side of paradise or in the hereafter, they will understand. We all will. For they know whom they have believed.

“You were holding what I needed,” one player says. Yes. He holds what we need. He is the God of empty arms. Promises unfulfilled. Dreams dashed. He holds it.

He holds us all. Thank you for holding my friend’s little one in Heaven until they get there. And while You’re at it, mend their broken hearts. Amen.

For this reason I also suffer these things, but I am not ashamed; for I know whom I have believed and I am convinced that He is able to guard what I have entrusted to Him until that day. 2 Timothy 1:12

Can I get a witness?

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Devotional: “Hold my hand in childlike trust, and the way before you will open up step by step.” Sarah Young, “Jesus Calling.”

This morning prayer time was something of a miracle. Well, they all are really, but some more than others. Sometimes I just go out there and sit. I know He is there, He just doesn’t make Himself known. It still amazes me how I can come out here with all my junk, all my worries and fears and He reveals Himself to me. And for just a little awhile, it’s just Him and me. I recognize Him and I feel a little bit like Mary Magdalene in the garden…….as she gasps, “Rabboni!”

Or John as he turns to Peter and says, “It is the Lord!” And there’s Jesus on the shore stoking a campfire asking if they’ve caught any fish. And sitting there in prayer, it feels a little bit like Easter.

There is something Holy in being present when dawn colors the sky. Being a witness to it is beholding His Glory here on earth. As if to second that, from the rooftop a mourning dove coos. That doesn’t always happen but today it did.

I am learning that even things like despair have a purpose, God never wastes anything. For in it, there is no denying that those sparks of joy are coming directly from You Lord.

It was a good prayer time today, well they all are really.

And after months of not attending church, of having my own church where and when I can have it, I need to hear the words……I need to hear the songs.

“As for me, it is good to be near God. I have made the Sovereign Lord my refuge; I will tell of all Your deeds.” Psalm 73:28

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See Me

Enough will never be enough.....

Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Romans 12:10

See me not as a stranger but as a potential gift to be opened.

Allow me to show you what beauty I hold inside, keeping in mind that maybe you might have to dig just blow the surface to find them.

Remember………..your best friend was once a stranger like me.

If you already know me and love me, don’t take me for granted.

Don’t skim over my words when I am talking like you can’t wait to interject your own. My words have value and when I share them it’s because I want to give you something of value, for it’s my love that’s behind them.

Listen to me…….Because someday you will only hear an echo where they once were.

There will be a time when you would sell all you have to see my face, hear my voice.

Imagine hearing from me again after I am in Heaven.

Pretend it’s that time the next time you call, or see my face and it’s like the most perfect summer day you ever spent.

Cherish me.

Here me now when I am right here beside you.

My words are some of the best advice you may ever get.

Don’t be too busy dismissing them because after all “it’s just me.”

See me as that new friend you are trying so hard to impress.

Remember all the years I have been here and all the rocky roads my feet have been on right beside you.

Remember me.

Don’t wait for the echo.

Image from Google

Finding our place in the Son

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New Year’s weekend was spent at the beach. It was 4 glorious days of chilly evenings and mornings and brilliant sunshine during the day. We didn’t want to leave so four days turned into five. It was walking for miles looking for sea glass and eating seafood fresh off the boat. It was breathing sea air facing the surf and letting go of 2014. It was putting off stress and anxiety for another day.

Before that,  we had all gathered around a table and celebrated my folks 63rd wedding Anniversary. It was a week of celebrations.

2015 hit me full force on the morning of January 4th. The night before we had pulled into Bakersfield RV park where we have always had a wonderful stay. It was dark. I chose the backside of the park thinking it would be quieter, but it was a bad spot and the hookups were situated in an awkward place. We were both irritable and hungry. We had dinner and missed the season premiere of Downton Abbey because of bad cable in the park.

I tossed and turned all night and awoke with a feeling of dread such as I hadn’t had in a long time. It surrounded me like a cloak. Happy New Year.

For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.

That feeling stayed with me off and on for the entire week. I prayed, I did battle. I also kept thanking God for each new day, which is always a gift we don’t deserve, no matter how we may be feeling. I also spent some sleepless nights trying to map out the coming year. I solved unsolvable puzzles in my mind at 2:00 AM awaiting the alarm at 4:00 AM. Finally, the last part of my week ended. I felt like Jacob after he wrestled with the angel of God all night.

The truth is, all of us are walking around with our hips out of joint. All of us are in a battle of some kind or another.

Sunday January 10th, I decided to put dread and fear on hold. It was a wonderful day. E had rigged up an ingenious antenna so that we could get all four PBS stations and I watched them off and on all day just because I could. We had a wonderful dinner and I made scones for dessert which we ate with lemon curd and blackcurrant jam. We lifted our glasses as we watched two episodes of Downton, the one we missed and the new one.

This morning the dread threatened to come back, I was awake at 2 again and prayed for merciless sleep. I envisioned the still pond, the diamonds on the water, I recalled the sounds of the waves, and the foghorn in the night. I asked Jesus to send me some sleep and after about an hour He did.

This morning I beat back the darkness by opening the Word. For God has given us a promise, that if we open His word with expectation of receiving what it has the power to give; He will provide us with light on our path, if only just for the few steps we must walk today.

I remembered Lady Galadriel’s parting gift to Frodo in Lord of the Rings, the glass vial filled with the light from the star of Earendil. She tells him, ” I give you the light of Eärendil, our most beloved star. May it be a light for you in dark places, when all other lights go out.”

Jesus said: “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” There will be days in this life when we wake filled with fear, dread, even despair, but we can always take hope and take heart, if we are believers.

Do you see it? It’s right there just off the trail. A sunny spot with a log perfect for sitting so that we can turn our faces to the Son and the sun, so we can warm enough to go on again.

This morning I have already laughed and cried reading Anne Lamott’s new book “Small Victories.” She is one of my little patches of sun today. In her book I read these lines by Wendell Berry:

“it may be that when we no longer know what to do, we have come to our real work, and that when we no longer know which way to go, we have begun our real journey.”

Take heart and take hope today with me friends. I have never done this before on my blog, though other bloggers do it each year. My word for this year which the Holy Spirit dropped into my heart this morning is “Stand.” Because before you walk or run, you need to stand. And stand strongly.

 

 

Fox

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“Fox”

With a blaze of red against the white, she was startled out of her reverie with this visitor who stood stock still.

With head cocked he seemed to be listening to voices only he could hear, tuning into an older primal frequency we all used to know.

His breath materialized in the frosty air.

She waited, he waited. Each trying to determine if the other was friend or foe.

She was glad for the company, wished he would stay.

In his eyes, there was a reflection of Eden as if he remembered when we were all friends.

But he shook himself as if to shake off the impossibility of that thought, snow flying from his bright fur.

He wished, she wished.

They both wished for a time when the world was young.

For Eden.

He turned and trod down the path.

She released her breath.

She would remember this moment as a small miracle.

I was inspired to write this after seeing the movie, “Wild” photo courtesy of creative commons.

It’s a “God Thing”

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The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.  (1 Corinthians 1:18)

This beautiful cross you see above comes with a story. It’s one I have great pleasure in sharing because it is a perfect illustration of how the Holy Spirit brings strangers together and makes them friends. The maker of this very special cross happened across my blog one day and something I said struck a chord because he wrote a beautiful comment of encouragement which blessed me tremendously. It was one of those “God Things.”

Time and time again I marvel at how the Holy Spirit uses people and circumstances to give us just the encouragement we need at just the right time. It’s happened over and over again and it surprises me, even though I should know better by now. Now I will tell you a little story about how this particular cross came to me. It’s another “God Thing.”

I had expressed an interest in these handmade crosses made by Mark McCullough via his Etsy website which you can find here. Then, right around Christmas time, I get a surprise email saying that one of these crosses was going to be shipped to me as a gift! In the accompanying message he asked if he could share the why and how of the story. I was like, “Hello…..of course you can!” He described how he wanted the crosses to go to three individuals for specific reasons. One of whom was me. Here are his words:

You told me in our first email exchange that you sometimes wondered if you shouldn’t just leave the blogging to others, which is something that I think would be a terrible loss for our world.  I wanted you to have a cross, something like a combination of potential inspiration and an expression of my gratitude.  I know that a cross that comes to live with you will find a way to reach out into the world—that’s what I want for all of my crosses, that wherever they go, they touch someone, somehow, and carry the message forward.

So I knew who I wanted the crosses to go to, but I told everyone that it would be a random drawing, and I felt that I had to honor that. I also decided that I was willing to make more crosses if I needed to, to ensure that these three people each got one.

I wrote all the names on little pieces of paper, folded each one up, and dropped them into a gift bag that was sitting next to my desk.  I wouldn’t say that I actually prayed–more like just a “Okay God, here we go” statement.  I shook it up and pulled out a name.  It was Friend #2, whose father is ill.  I drew a second name—you.  I drew the third name, and it was Friend #1.  It would seem that God approved of my choices!  I sat here at my desk for a long while just marveling at the way it had worked out.

After I read his note, it was my turn to marvel. Here is a man working in his workshop miles away, using his talent and creativity for God’s glory and to bless others, and here is me at my computer hammering out words, all because we can’t stop the flow of gratitude that the message of the Cross brings. It’s all about God’s grace and how it flows through each and every one of our lives, and through each other via the Holy Spirit.

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The pictures don’t do it justice, friends. But each time I look at it, I will think of the hands that fashioned it just the way He fashioned all of us. And how wood from all over the world was lovingly joined together to make one perfect whole. Just the way He longs to redeem not just part of the world, but the whole wide world. The cross is the bridge that unifies all people into one Holy family.

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This little cross giveaway became a much bigger thing for me that I ever imagined it would. I figured that a few friends would say, “Sure, I’ve got a place on the wall. Why not?” I thought the whole thing would be lighthearted—just good fun on Christmas. Mark McCullough (The Cross Maker)

It was a “God Thing” and I am humbly grateful.

Imperfect Miracles

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Due to a shortage of headcount in my area, I found myself working on December 25th for the first time in my life. I have to confess, it just felt wrong to be there. And add to that, the area itself was a disaster. The lady I was relieving looked like she had been through a war and at the end of the 12 hours, I felt the same. But enough about me. Having to work on Christmas Day is by no means a hardship, but there was something about driving there on a nearly deserted freeway put me in mind of some people who are struggling this Christmas season.

One by one and then collectively they found their way into my prayers. I prayed that the Lord would give them strength and peace in the midst of everything. I thought of my Mom’s friend whose adult son is extremely ill. She can’t get to see him because she is recovering from a bad fall. She also takes care of her husband who has a bad back and Parkinson’s among other things.

I think of Elaine, who spent part of her Christmas at the Carehome giving her Mom over the counter meds for her flu since the staff can’t do it. Her Mom didn’t know it was Christmas and she kept asking who the robe belonged to, the one she had just unwrapped. What can prepare you for that kind of heartache?

I guess I was thinking about us all. About how the world was when the angels met the Shepherd’s there out in the fields. How when they met those Angels they were so Holy and beautiful they had them shaking in their boots. The world hasn’t really changed a whole lot since then.Not human nature anyway. I thought about how Jesus came to fix a broken world and us along with it. That is, inasmuch as we let Him. 

I thought about this little snowflake and how it almost makes me want to cry. Just the perfect beauty of it. I see where it looks like it’s starting to melt away. And how sometimes we feel like we are melting away too. Like that little snowflake, we are all imperfect, perfect miracles.

Jesus came to this earth so He could seek us out and make us into a miracle that will last for all eternity, but we can’t do it without Him. Nothing we go through down here on earth is ever overlooked or wasted. Even now, He is using everything we go through down here to make us into perfection fit for Heaven. God is never satisfied to leave us how He found us.

All of us are broken and will remain so until He says, “Rise up and walk into your new life with me.” We are all blind until He sticks His mud covered fingers into our eyes and says,”Go and wash in the Pool of Siloam.”

Jesus was born for the broken, the lost, the left behind. He came for this reason, “To seek and save that which was lost.”

I love the story of how He went back to find the leper He had healed. Even now, He is seeking you my friends. He came into this world to find you. To find His lost lambs. Today, He wants to be with you in your heartache and bring you comfort.

‘Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me. Revelation 3:20

Christmas might be over, but Christ never is. That right there, gives me hope and reason to rejoice in the coming year.

 

Image: Creative Commons. Attribution-NoDerivs License

What can it possibly mean?

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I woke early this morning and it was cold. Cold for here anyway. Wrapping myself in the huge robe guaranteed to ward off any chill, I slogged out the door in my slippers to look at the temperature which read 46 degrees. All you people in the snow, I don’t know how you do it. I wimped out of praying in my usual spot out in the shop. I came back inside and settled back in my easy chair and turned the heat up. I felt a momentary sadness knowing that tomorrow I would be spending Christmas at work, but that sadness was fleeting.

On December 26 all the frenzy will be over, but Christ will remain, big as life. As I gaze figuratively at the face of the babe in the manger, I ask myself all over again what it really means. This God coming to earth. Who can possibly understand that kind of love? Who can truly grasp it? The love of a God who would voluntarily come down here to this planet rife with turbulence and every kind of heartache and sin.

How can I feel anything but unbridled joy, knowing He would do that for me? For you?

What it means for us Christians is that we pick up our crosses all over again as we do everyday, knowing that He will never expect us to carry as much as He did. My little cross, whatever it is will never lead to Calvary, but ultimately to Heaven. How can it possibly be?

The babe in the manger scares me sometimes to be honest because I look at that baby and I ask myself how my life would change if I really truly believed as I say I do? The manger means hard questions sometimes. Look what it meant for those to whom He came then……..

Mary was afraid.

Joseph wanted to divorce her quietly.

The Shepherd’s were shaking in their sandals on that night.

Herod was so threatened he murdered all first-born babies up to two years old.

The wise men journeyed hundreds of miles just to worship Him.

As I sit here in my chair pondering all this, I am overwhelmed with thanksgiving for a God that would love so much that He would risk it all, knowing we might still push Him away.

Every light is lit and the tree casts a glow that fills the room. Even these two old cats have caught my joy. They have turned into kittens momentarily, playing tag and dashing back and forth. I smile at their play as I opened to my devotional and read these words:

Lord, you have been our dwelling place
    throughout all generations.
 Before the mountains were born
    or you brought forth the whole world,
    from everlasting to everlasting you are God.

You turn people back to dust,
    saying, “Return to dust, you mortals.”
A thousand years in your sight
    are like a day that has just gone by,
    or like a watch in the night.

Yet you sweep people away in the sleep of death—
    they are like the new grass of the morning:
 In the morning it springs up new,
    but by evening it is dry and withered.

Psalm 90: 1-6

The question remains: What can it possibly mean? To me it means saying yes all over again. Sometimes it’s a feeble yes, sometimes a shaky yes. But it’s always a yes.

Merry Christmas from Lori’s Prayer Closet. I pray you know the joy of the Savior today.