Facechurch

I had no sound on my IPhone for half a day (and a night) yesterday. I got it damp and the speakers died. It spent the night submerged in rice, which seemed to do the trick since this morning it seems fine. If I didn’t know it before, I know now. I am too dependant on it. On a gadget. I never thought I would be one of those people.

I admit it, I like when I hear the little chime that tells me I have a text. It’s almost a Pavlovian response with me, I instinctively reach for my phone. And last night the non-noise was almost deafening. Not that I get that many, mind you.

I even like the other little warble that tells me I have an email, even if it is FTD again telling me I need to order flowers.

The truth is, my phone is just the vehicle that connects me to others in my little community. The people I care about are in my phone……not literally but you know what I mean. I have a voice memo of my Dad and my niece talking. He’s 84 and someday after He’s gone to Heaven I will let her listen to it. I haven’t gotten around to saving that somewhere else yet, and I would be very sad to lose it.

This morning as I was checking my Facebook news feed over coffee, the thought came to me:

Facebook is like church. A community of like-minded people gathering together to encourage, enlighten, strengthen, humor, help and support each other.

But this visiting is what we used to do over the back fence, or on the front porch swing.

In my Mom’s day none of the women worked so they would all gather at one house or yard and bring their kids. They didn’t have Facebook back then, they didn’t need it. They had their own community.

And while people are still meeting at backyard barbeques, front yard garage sales, neighborhood Bible studies, and yes, over the back fence and the porch swing and the neighborhood pub……

……..now they’re communing over coffee, twitter and Facebook too.

Even churches are using social media in a big way. Just about every church has a “Like” option. Does yours? And shame on you if you haven’t “Liked” your church!

The world may change, but people never will. We are hard-wired by God to live, thrive and work in community.

My phone is happily ringing, dinging, and playing music and every time it chimes with life today, it makes me smile.

Because I know my peeps are in there.

****Note: I had to change the title of my post which was going to be The Church of Facebook, but someone already wrote a book by that title……I had no idea!

Psalm 139 and a half

Nothing I do today will surprise you God. My day is already mapped out by you. You’ll be there the whole time I am cleaning the floors, dusting the shelves. You’ll be nodding in time to the music I play while I vacuum because I know you like the Newsboys too. You know my every ache and pain, my every small complaint,

my every praise, my every prayer.

You will smile at things that make me smile because you know that smiling is just another way to give you praise. You peer inside the dark chambers of my soul, that place where I have pulled the curtain over. You throw a spotlight on all those places, Lord. They don’t scare you.

You know about the eight pounds I am trying to lose.

You also see the things I hold back from you (as if I really could), things I clutch tightly too for fear of losing them. I think if I hold on too tight you will test me by taking them away. Take them Lord! If I had to I could live without every single one,

But I could never live without you.

All around me, I see the glory of your creation. You seem to love taking my breath away.

When I close my eyes I can imagine all of our prayers playing on Heaven’s giant ticker tape.

Thank you for caring about all my secret heartaches and fears. You know every one. Bind up my wounds with your precious oil.

And thank you, Abba Father, for loving me no matter what.

Sometimes you just have to throw stones

If you’ve seen Forrest Gump you remember the scene where Jenny comes back home and faces the house where she suffered so much abuse as a little girl. It is one of my favorite scenes. She starts throwing stones at the house and you wish you could pick one up and throw one with her. Scenes like that are why I love movies.

Abuse holds a family hostage like a sleeping dragon. You never know what may make it stir so you walk quietly around it. Try to stay out of sight. When you are a kid you look to your parents for protection but when they are part of the equation and not the answer you have no where else to go. And when you are told things like “Emotion is useless” “You might as well quit crying because tears are useless too.” You learn early on there is only you. You try to shoulder all that dysfunctional mess yourself. Especially when you know others will get in trouble for trying to help you.

As the next generation of the abuse, you have a choice. You do one of two things, you go along with the charade and perpetuate the culture of negativity by painting a rosy picture that’s false or you get really honest with yourself and start dealing with it, realizing you can be the one to turn the tide. It takes true courage not only to step out of it, but do a 360 and break the pattern yourself. You also have to be ready when the abuser turns around and labels you as the problem.

It starts by replacing denial with the truth and facing some facts about yourself, that’s painful. It’s about stopping the blame on others and beginning to see your part in it. It’s about refusing to go along with all the negativity that breeds like a cesspool. It’s about letting it all go so you can start the healing process and making sure you don’t carry on the legacy. And it’s about recognizing that painting a rosy picture doesn’t change the situation, it only masks it to the outside world.

I think the letting go happens differently for everyone. Sometimes it takes a whole lifetime. Sometimes the final healing doesn’t take place until they die, or go into a place where you can leave the barbs and negativity behind after you walk out the door. It’s then that you realize you have been given back the reins to your own life. It’s much like being born again. And with every load you take out to the curb, you realize your mind is a little bit clearer. Lighter.

This abuse has not been my experience, but it has been played out over and over for many people, some I care about very much including my own Dad. So today, I dedicate this post to all people everywhere who have walked out, who have made a difference, who have been courageous enough to not only do an about-face, but be a light to others who need to get out of that dark tunnel, some of whom by so doing have put themselves in danger.

You died on a Saturday morning. And I had you placed here under our tree. And I had that house of your father’s bulldozed to the ground. Momma always said dyin’ was a part of life. I sure wish it wasn’t. Little Forrest, he’s doing just fine. About to start school again soon. I make his breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day. I make sure he combs his hair and brushes his teeth every day. Teaching him how to play ping-pong. He’s really good. We fish a lot. And every night, we read a book. He’s so smart, Jenny. You’d be so proud of him. I am. He, uh, wrote a letter, and he says I can’t read it. I’m not supposed to, so I’ll just leave it here for you. Jenny, I don’t know if Momma was right or if, if it’s Lieutenant Dan. I don’t know if we each have a destiny, or if we’re all just floating around accidental-like on a breeze, but I, I think maybe it’s both. Maybe both is happening at the same time. I miss you, Jenny. If there’s anything you need, I won’t be far away. Forrest Gump 1994

I dedicate this also to my best friend Elaine, who has not been afraid to stand alone. To lead others out. To make a difference. To start her own legacy of hope. If there is anything you need, I will be happy to stand in for “Forrest” and throw some stones with you.

I have a pretty good aim.

Wish you were here……God

The God of the Universe thinks about you. Not just once, not just every now and then, but several times a day. Let that thought stop you in your tracks today. Let it stun you. Let it fill you with wonder.

O Lord, You have searched me and known me.
You know my sitting down and my rising up;
You understand my thought afar off.
You comprehend my path and my lying down,
And are acquainted with all my ways.
For there is not a word on my tongue,
But behold, O Lord, You know it altogether. Psalm 139:1-4

And if he could send a postcard from Heaven, it would have your name and below that, “Wish you were here” or one I like even better…..”Can’t wait to see you ____” Fill in your own name there.

Just imagine how excited He must feel when He knows another of His children will get to see everything He has prepared……….It’s like that feeling when you buy someone you care about the perfect gift and you absolutely can’t wait until they open it.

God is ready. But He can’t show you quite yet He’s still preparing it, and you.

When everything is ready, I will come and get you, so that you will always be with me where I am. Jesus

Consider that today can be the first gift of your new life, open it. And don’t forget to thank Him, even if it’s only a pair of socks, cause socks from God are still a pretty neat gift, especially when you think that everyday from now on it just gets closer to the really Big Gift.

You know the one. Remember Christmas? You had all those little gifts, practical things like pajamas and sweaters? All along you had your eye on that BIG gift in the corner. And really, your parents did too.

They were saving the best for last.

So is He.

When everything is hanging by a thread

When your Dad calls and says, “Can you pray for me? I am having pain in my knee and back, and my good eye is giving me problems……just pray, please.”

Be still……

When there is yet another shake up at work and you wonder if this is the time……time to move back home.

Be still and know…..

When people have haven’t been a part of chaos for two years decide they want to make trouble?

Be still know and know that I am God….

When sore throats just don’t go away and you have a fever blister the size of Texas? (Poor Elaine)

Be still and know that I am God, I will be exalted among the nations…..

When a troubled son won’t talk…..

Be still and know that I am God, I will be exalted among the nations…..I will be exalted in the earth.

And this, always this:

God is our refuge and strength,
    an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
    and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
    and the mountains quake with their surging.

All selections from Psalm 46

Linking up with Sandra for Still Saturday

Calling a Truce

I tugged at my hair and frowned in the mirror. Then I remembered I couldn’t frown because that’s bad for the furrow between my eyes. I lift my eyebrows as if to iron it out. I can’t look too close at the things that are changing more with each passing year.

I apply makeup furiously and with a vendetta against the things I am trying to cover up. I do my usual squint in the mirror, my usual way of addressing mirrors ever since I was in fifth grade when my Mom let me start using pancake makeup to cover up my early acne.

In many ways, I am still the girl behind the curtain of hair on my first visit to the dermatologist office, all these years later. I look for the seat against the window, not facing it. Those visits lasted years and took me to some dark places.

I thought I could make myself disappear if I lost enough weight.

When I finally emerged at 25, by God’s grace and healing and my parent’s prayers, I entered into a foreign and wonderful place I had never been before. It was my own personal Woodstock. I waded in at first, then I plunged in with both feet. I exulted, I danced, I splashed, I reveled in my new-found joy and freedom.

I got my hair cut and looked out at a new and wonderful world. I ran my fingers over my face and down my neck where there were no more lumps. Praise God. For the first time in my life I felt beautiful.

It was a pretty good run from then on. Until lately that is.

At 50 I was all confident and unafraid, ready to take on the next phase of life. At 53 I am entering into a peculiar stage. It’s not so much fun anymore. Gravity and years are tugging at me. Simple tasks result in stupid injuries.

But from today on, I am calling a truce with myself and my body. I will forgive it for aging. I am going to fall in love all over again. With myself. Cause God said I could.

This….day….I….will….remember.

Each time I get angry at the extra pounds pressing at my clothes, I will remember this post. I will not think of it as my body betraying me, but reminding me that I have to work a little bit harder. When I look at my upper arms I won’t pinch angrily at the extra flesh, remembering how firm and muscular my arms used to be.

And when I look at the wrinkles on my skin, which to me are looking more like trenches, I will try not to dream of winning a trip to the plastic surgeon or running to get laser treatments. I will not hate my extra sun spots and think of them as defects but friendly freckles, and I will let my arms go free from sleeves and I will wear shorts and enjoy it.

I will love my legs, knowing that underneath they are the same legs as when I could point a toe and see muscles pop like a ballet dancer. I can still use them to walk fast and even run when my back doesn’t give out.

I will not dread the swimsuit season. I will not allow it to give myself permission to hate my body or berate myself for how lazy I have gotten over the winter, I will use it as extra motivation to improve and make better food choices.

I will remember my re-birth, both of them. And live the truth that God has called me wonderfully made, and good, and yes, beautiful. And when I love myself, I am not only praising what He made, I am praising Him too.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. Psalm 139:14

I will from this time forward, look to my beautiful older sisters who dress young and act young. I will see their radiant faces in my mind when I am tempted to pick up the barbed chains of self-flagellation.

And last but not least I will let my inner beauty shine so bright it’s the first thing people notice about me.

And starting today, I will hug myself in the mirror instead of frowning or squinting.

Because I love the me God created.

What looks like wonder on an ordinary day

I pulled the bread out of the cabinet to make toast, and watched the bread slide down with a metallic click. I thought, I need a special plate today. Sometimes you need to feel like each day is worthy of celebration.

I pulled the pink plate from the cupboard and the memory floaded in before I could stop it. My Mom and I had decorated her kitchen table with this glassware complete with goblets and lace tablecloth and flowers at each place setting. I don’t even remember what the occasion was and it doesn’t matter now. I have been missing her.

I cried all through my toast.

I wonder if she knows how my heart is bound up with hers and how often I think of her a hundred little moments every day. She was the first one to teach me about the small wonders. I worry about when I will lose her. I worry that I can’t help her more. I know how long her days are, how they’re filled with serving others, with few moments for herself.

I remember the last time I was home and I fixed her lunch, she was so thankful……for that one small thing.

I went about the day feeling her nearness. You feel the impact someone has had on your life when hard times hit and you realize you’ve silently picked up the baton they’ve passed you without even knowing it.

I was finding peace in the tasks……the folding of the clothes, making up the beds, watering the plants. The peace in going on, living out hope in my actions.

She has never let me forget that we are a people who have passed from death to life, and for that there is always a reason for joy. It’s the grafting into our hearts this one thing that fans the flame of wonder more than any other.

If you suddenly found out you didn’t have the cancer they thought you had it would be easy to find the wonder in all those little things we may even think of as mundane.

All her friends and family have heard her say many times, “If you can’t find anything to laugh about you might as well go out behind the garage and shoot yourself.” That’s assuming the garage is in the back of the house, I am guessing.

Last night I shared with Elaine what I was going to write about today. She was taming down her inflammed throat with a popsicle and vigorously nodded her head. When she could talk, the tears that had yet to come since her Dad’s death filled her eyes.

She told me how one of her co-workers had come up to her and said, “You are a Godly woman, and God is with you. He will never give you more than you can handle.” Sometimes you just need that affirmation.

Personally, I believe that God gives us more than we can handle just so we’ll have to lean on Him.

Earlier in the day, she was sitting in her bus, sick, tired, grieved and weary-worn, when a little cactus wren landed on her side mirror and stared at her and sung his heart out. A little spark of hope just when she needed it most.

He uses common, ordinary, everyday things to speak to us, just like He uses common, ordinary, everyday us to do extraordinary things through Him.

Things like pink plates and silly little birds.

And you and I.

Thank you Margaret Feinberg for this wonderful book, I am sorry to see it end, but I will do my best to keep the wonder alive and tell everyone I know about this book!

When God sounds like a Jewish mother

Days like today it seems like praying amounts to throwing a cup of water into the ocean. All around me, everyone I am close to is in some kind of crisis mode. I don’t mean things like your car wouldn’t start or you didn’t get the grade you thought you deserved on that test. I mean big things. Life altering things. Problems so big they actually swallow everything else up and leave you reeling, trying to catch your breath and recalculate the direction of your life.

Problems that eclipse all the regular normal day-to-day life as you know it.

Right now, if my heart could make a sound, it would be like that dove I hear crying right at this very moment outside this window.

I am in here right now, in my prayer closet. My little shed where so much happens. My back is having some kind of a spasm today and after trying to sit unsuccessfully in this chair, I grasp the table and stagger to my feet.

Suddenly I hear God sounding very much like a Jewish mother in my head. “So quit complaining, already. You just finished saying how great the need was, so you can still kneel right? Is there anything wrong with your knees? Are they broken? Oy vey….these kids I have to deal with.”

This alone proves how much of a healthy sense of humor God has. He had me there.

It’s not that I know much about Jewish mothers mind you, but I have my own Mom who never fails to remind me how good I have it and how others don’t when she catches a whiff of anything close to me feeling sorry for myself.

I glimpse the globe which for a reason that will soon be apparent, didn’t make it to storage. I slid it up to where I was kneeling so I could see it, this world that God so loves. I touched that globe, and then God revealed to me what it was there for in the knot of tears that formed around my throat and threatened to spill over.

Sometimes God uses props. I layed both hands on it then, and I prayed for everyone in my life, and then the world too.

I thought of Moses and his staff, Jeremiah and his linen belt. Me with my forehead now resting on the globe, in this little prayer shed, in this town, on this planet. And then I felt just a little bit like God must feel when He looks down on this earth, knowing He could change it all in an instant, waiting for us to do what we expect Him to. He has given us everything we need to help, to heal the ocean of pain, but too often we look to Him because it’s so much easier to blame someone else.

God is an easy target.

Sometimes I think we read the verse about how He so loved the world and we leave it right there in that past tense. The truth is, He is actively loving it still. He never stopped.

Each and every day when the sun comes up He proves it all over again.

All these things have to play out in each of our lives. Next year it may be something entirely different, but God will still be the same.

He is after all, the God of yesterday, today and forever.

And even if it sometimes feels useless to pray? It never is.

Because He hears every one.

And sometimes He uses props to prove His point.

Evening Benediction

I end the day with a bit of watering…..summer is coming and the desert is already thirsty, almost as if it’s in anticipation of scorching relentless merciless rays it drinks. I watch the ground soak it in and it makes me thirsty too, so I pause to tilt back the Dasani. I drink it in as greedily as the plants. I guess this is what you call puttering in the yard. And it’s a good way to end the day.

I go in and pull shades up to let a bit of the sunset in and turn on the evening lights and then I go back outside and watch the birds do their nightly crisscrossing to and fro across the sky. Silently the sky speaks volumes.

I sit and watch the show and I can’t seem to stop.

A day ends, a life ends, both quietly, both almost without notice.

One last glory in the sky, one breath you’re there, the next you’re gone. I marvel at how quickly the earth swallows up our memory.

Almost as easy as crashing waves washing away the castle you just spent an hour building.

Some go with fanfare, headlines, processions and some go quietly but none go unnoticed by God. Ever.

I watch the sky bleach color, first gray and now one last splash of pink before darkness swallows it up. The birds are silent now. They know the proper way to bring an evening in. I wish I could see them tucked in their boughs. Not for the first time, I wonder if any of them lose their balance and plummet to the ground as they drift off to sleep, like I do sometimes sitting upright.

I close the cover of my Ipad as well as my eyes and say a prayer for all the heartache in the world, for loved ones near and far. It’s what I do when I can’t do enough.

It’s my benediction, my way of honoring a man I knew for twenty-four years. A man who liked to wear cowboy boots and stetson hats once upon a time, and was known to have a temper, but could fix anything as long as he had a can of WD40. And he always had several.

And who also was known to have a soft heart when you least expected it.

Feeling a bit like Jesus

Yesterday, I felt a little bit like Jesus must have felt. I felt an ache for humanity. I’m not sure why I feel this way some days more than others. I think it must be because I am watching someone slip away and it’s not pretty. It’s not slipping away quietly, it’s more like hanging on for dear life. I have never watched something like that before.

Lately every time I turn around, something else stands as a reminder of how quickly this life is passing by. A memorial service on Saturday……and then this week, my Mom lost two more friends. My brother said when he heard, “Well, now he can see his son Royce again.” I had forgotten that his son had passed away at 16, the same age as my brother was. So many years ago now.

As I went about my day yesterday, I somehow felt people instead of just seeing them.

At the car wash, I saw a man checking the trash cans. When he caught my eye, he looked a little sheepish and I looked down, embarrassed for him, saddened. I wondered what led him to this point. When he passed me, he gave me a smile and said, “How many people look at your car and yell Slugbug?” I said, “Many…..” and gave him a smile. There was so much more I wanted to say.

That’s one of the reasons I want to keep my car.

And then I had a wild urge to ask the person next to me pumping gas if he knew Jesus. So what if he thinks I’m crazy?

Maybe being a little bit crazy and saying something is more sane than knowing people are going to hell all around me and acting like it’s no big deal.

My Grandpa used to go up to strangers and ask that all the time. He died when I was 2. Oh how I long to meet him in Heaven. I hope he will be one of the first I see.

At the store I saw a really, really big lady in one of those ride-around carts. I am not happy to say my first thought was tinged with judgment. Then I said a silent prayer of forgiveness and gave her a smile. I have a feeling maybe she doesn’t get many. She gave me a beautiful smile back. My heart panged.

And my heart kept panging all the way home. And I finally cried because of what we are going through right now with Elaine’s Dad. I hadn’t until then.

The truth is, none of us knows when God will call us to hang up our hat for good on this earth, but what I do know is that this life lasts about as long as a daffodil, here today and gone tomorrow, and hopefully with Him.

Let us treasure what we have.

Let us treasure who we have.

Let us bring Heaven to earth by putting aside all our disagreements and hurts, our disappointments and failures to love each other well aside.

Because it’s all just too short.

“I, even I, am he who comforts you.
Who are you that you fear mere mortals,
human beings who are but grass,

Isaiah 51:12

Lori's Prayer Closet

"And when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done is secret, will reward you……"Matthew 6:6