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.

Carpet fiber prayers

It was a “Carpet fiber” prayer morning. “Please Lord, help me get up and do this.” That’s all. My mind was churning at 2:00 AM. I tried reciting the 23rd Psalm, that usually works when I can’t sleep. Not this time. I felt overwhelmed. Life is complicated, people are complicated, and my shoulders were never meant to carry all this.

At break, all I wanted to do was go out to my car and be alone with Jesus.

When you are going through something, or your family is……the situation can become bigger than everything else. Even God.

In a recorded speech, Martin Luther Kings talks about a time when he considered giving up. He had just gotten another phone call, a death threat, threatening he and his whole family. Not long before he had been arrested and thrown in jail for driving 30 mph in a 25 mph zone. He was sitting at his kitchen table, a cold cup of coffee before him. He was trying to figure a way out. How he could turn it all over to someone else and go back to the quiet life of a scholar like he had planned. Here is how he describes that moment:

“I discovered then that religion had to become real to me, and I had to know God for myself. And I bowed down over that cup of coffee. I will never forget it……I prayed a prayer, and I prayed out loud that night. I said, “Lord, I am down here trying to do what’s right. I think I’m right. I think the cause that we represent is right. But Lord, I must confess that I’m weak now. I’m faltering. I’m losing my courage.”

It was then that he heard an inner voice…….”Martin Luther, stand up for righteousness. Stand up for justice. Stand up for truth. And lo I will be with you, even until the end of the world.”

Three nights later a bomb exploded on the front porch of King’s home, filling the house with smoke and broken glass but injuring no one. He took it calmly: “My religious experience a few nights before had given me the strength to face it.” We have all reached that crossroads, we ask the question: “How can I get out of this?” We can’t take another step. We want escape. But it is at that point where the Holy Spirit comes in and does what we can’t do. He takes over…….Peter was at that point after he denied Jesus, but what happened just a few days after that? The day of Pentecost!

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.”

God’s little speed bumps

Sometimes God allows things……I call them God’s little speed bumps. I strained my back somehow, don’t even remember how I did it. It bothers me every now and then. I spent way too many years doing hard impact aerobics when I was young and now my body is punishing me. No running this week. Agendas and lists will be tossed aside while I heal.

This morning I got back in bed until the Aleve kicked in. I settled down to read and I thought that maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing.

I cleaned the kitty box looking much like a pregnant woman in her 8th month, knees apart, letting my quads do the work instead of my back. I noticed little things. The wind chimes, the lull of traffic, the sound of the litter hitting the side of the bag.

Time flows more slowly when you stop going from one thing to another without taking a breath in between.

Peace trickles in with the intentional movement of our actions, when we allow ourselves to consciously feel the rhythm of the day.

My mind, instead of racing ahead, relaxes into the rhythm to match my body. I am thankful that I am much better at this than when I was younger. Used to, I would rebel. Mentally I would kick and scream and insist on doing everything on my task list, my mind racing even as my body fought against it.

Nature calls, and right now the way I answer is the little corner of the yard where I sit. Wishing for pine trees and maples, the tossing of green okra leaves is as close as I get. They have yielded a good crop, they have done their job well. I watch the splash of green bending and twisting in the wind, and I am content.

Elaine’s school bus rumbles by at 7:27 AM, and again at 7:34. Once again I marvel at God……for giving her the route that comes right by the house. Out of all the possible routes to get, she got that one. It’s a God thing.

I am so grateful for that job, which has been a life-saver. She has seemed much like her old self again. Children have a way of breathing new life into weary souls. She comes home with a new story every day.

The Aleve has kicked in, and I feel better…..Yet I will continue to move slowly through this day. I will savor it, relaxing in God’s speed bump. Honoring Him with my tally of thanksgiving.

Count the gifts with me and the gratitude community, won’t you?


I revel in cooler temps…….the gifts of the garden……good bus route for Elaine……call from my Mom just now…….peace that comes when we pay attention to our bodies yield signs…….little furry creatures that enjoy it when you go back to bed…….coffee with frothe’……..shopping for a special birthday to come……thankfulness for all my blogger and online friends……the hope of the Lord which is my strength, always. #945-955

Gimme that old time religion

The last couple of weeks I have been picking a “blind pick” from my CD rack before I leave for my Saturday morning commute. I had to make Saturday somehow different, since it seems the whole world is off but me. (I know that’s not true) I picked one out but then I cheated and looked at it before I got in the car. I broke my own rule.

There was nothing wrong with my pick, it was good music, but this particular morning I needed more Jesus. I needed extra power. I needed a Holy Spirit infusion.

Raise the roof, clap your hands, sing at the top of your lungs praise is what I needed.

When I need that I go one of two places, Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir or the Gaithers. Well, make that three. I have to throw Sandy Patty in that line-up. This morning I chose the Gaithers. For all you “young un’s” out there, if you have never heard one of their Homecoming broadcasts, you have to give a listen. You will be lifted off your feet, and I promise you will have to lift at least one hand toward Heaven.

The first song on the CD was “We Shall Rise.” To my knowledge it was the only song I ever heard our Pastor at Temple Baptist Church request twice. We sang it one morning and I think it almost blew the top off the church. Instead of starting the announcements, Pastor Ken turned around and I can still see his shiny black suit and “brylcreemed hair” when he said, “I think we need to hear that one again.”

I started to sing this song on the way to work but I found I couldn’t squeak out a note. My throat closed up, and a fountain of tears threatened. As I listened to these grand old hymns of the faith, the remembering brought tears along with it.

I heard my other classmates sing, “Nothing but the Blood,” in that upstairs room where we held Children’s Church. I heard my Grandmother and her sisters voices. And I remembered when we would all get together as a family and sing hymns. I thought of how many aren’t there anymore, but with Jesus now singing with the angels.

I heard the swish of choir robes as we all filed out of the choir room. I remembered Easter’s and Christmases, and simpler times.

And Sunday lunch at Helwig’s and Chicken on a bun.

With one hand on the wheel and one hand toward the sky…….I could almost see those Pearly Gates swing wide open. I can’t remember when I had such an effortless commute. And as much as I love Christian contemporary, there is nothing wiggles quite like Southern Gospel.

And that’s saying a lot for this California grown yankee gal.

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.

Letting our light shine

No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a basket. Instead, a lamp is placed on a stand, where it gives light to everyone in the house. Matthew 5:15

I need to give a shout out today to my best friend….yes, I am “using you” again, Elaine.

She has been on the job for only a few weeks, but she is shining her light in the workplace already. This is why I love her. She doesn’t wait for an opportunity, she just naturally shines. She already found out who the “Jesus Saves” truck belongs to in the parking lot at the school. Then she found out who “Jesus Saves” vehicle number 2 belongs to, (his wife). And she was so glad, because she really likes him.

The kids talk to her, like little doors they swing right open for her. They pour out everything, and sometimes too much. And so do her co-workers. She has already found out their stories. She finds out because she talks to them, much like Jesus did, I imagine. And she doesn’t ask just to be asking, she asks because she cares, and that shows.

The other day one co-worker hit another’s car in the parking lot and just left. Elaine knew how upset she was, so she stayed after work and buffed it out for her. When the co-worker came out to her car expecting to see the ugly scrape, she was astonished to find that she couldn’t even see where it had been hit. That’s my friend. That’s how she rolls. She just says, “I just do what I would like someone to do for me.”

That’s what Jesus was talking about when he said we were supposed to shine our light so that everyone in the world could see….

And I have watched her do this at every job she has ever had. Every company she has worked for. She gets to know the person who empties the garbage by name and never fails to greet them. Because she knows that person emptying the garbage is worth just as much to God as the big boss.

The other day when her training was complete, she went to Bosa donuts and bought 3 dozen for everyone she works with. They were astonished. “For us?” They said. Not only that, she didn’t buy cheap donuts, she went to buy the best because she wanted them to know she valued them and how they helped her along at a new job.

Just like Jesus made the “best wine” at that wedding.

She doesn’t brag about herself, so I will. ……..Lucky for her, she has a friend who blogs.

 

“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.

When Church Happens

He canceled the record of the charges against us and took it away by nailing it to the cross. Colossians 2:14

I went to church but I didn’t go all the way in. To be honest, I just didn’t feel like hearing another sermon. I have heard it all before. I have sat and filled in the blanks dutifully, like one more task I have to check off. Done. On to the next thing.

I miss the interaction. I miss how at my old church they would ask if anyone had a burden, a need. And then others standing by would surround them, touch them, hands like gentle doves lighting on shoulders, backs…….. and the Pastor would pray. Sometimes they would cry and we would want to cry too. There is something powerful about the laying on of hands…..passing the Spirit from one to another.

It unifies us all.

Somehow I can’t escape the feeling that we are leaving with our burdens intact. There might be a burning need right next to me, and I would never know it. An inner cry for help like a dial tone unanswered.

We leave as the islands we are. Untouched. Still carrying the heavy load.

I wonder and not for the first time if the Spirit is not quenched with all our organization. Just one Sunday I wish the Pastor would stop and say, “Now everyone turn to your neighbor, not the one you came with, the one you don’t know, and pray for each other for 15 minutes.”

And I miss the altar call. Some say it’s just not needed anymore. It makes people feel embarrassed, singled out. But I disagree. I feel like it’s what draws us all in, and holds us together. Makes us remember when we were the one propelled out of our seat, and how that aisle looked impossibly long.

And when it was just you and the Lord, and no one else. And somehow, you know that this one thing, this one moment will change the course of your eternal destiny. What in the world matters more than that? I believe churches are robbing their congregations when they take this Holy moment away.

Don’t get me wrong. I believe in the church more than ever. When I miss it, something is wrong. But I also think that church happens more often than not after we leave the building.

As we sat yesterday with old friends, listening to all they have been through since we had last seen them I felt church happen with the exchange of tears. When she said she was finally getting help in dealing with the death of their little boy. That little boy who was their whole world and in some ways still is.

I can see how that little boy is so alive to them still. And how if he knew what a shadow his death made on their marriage, how sad he would be. I wish I would have told her that if he knew his Mommy was finally getting help, that he would smile from Heaven.

We talked of how it will never go away, he will never go away. But you learn to make some kind of peace with it. And go on for others who still need you.

Church happens when love happens, and not just on Sunday. But over coffee, in between classes, in parking lots, in school buses, everywhere God is.

It happens when we remember the Cross and what was done on it, for us. And that every single thing we bear in this life, He already dealt with.

It was nailed to the cross when He was.

In light of that, we stand at the edge of eternity every day. And with each day, no matter what we have to handle, our gratitude can’t help but grow.

We just can’t stop counting the gifts. Join me today? And Ann at Holy Experience here.



On autism, and painting the garage with mustard

Her voice drifts across the many miles via the telephone and I don’t have to wonder what kind of day she has had. “It’s one of those days,” she says, “where she does whatever she can think to do.” She sighs wearily, then laughs. “You won’t believe the very last thing she did.”
Hey, I am over at Bibledude today, I would be honored if you would join me there for the rest of this story……..
Once again, thank you Duane for the opportunity to share my words, and part of my story.