When “picking up your cross” consists of just getting up again.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the morning. I would have given anything if I could have stayed there all day. The cats, almost sensing this, both came up and settled close. One on my pillow, one tucked into my side, chin resting on my arm. I heard stereo purrs. I groaned, got up and pushed the coffee button and burrowed back under the covers until it was ready.

Tears flowed freely again as I poured a cup. I turned the party lights on because I believe that despite how I feel, there is always something to celebrate. Then I cried about that.

I know what this is. It’s a returning occurance and that comforted me only a little as I furiously punched the down arrow that regulated the air conditioner. It was only 77 in the house. It wasn’t hot it was me. It’s too painful to actually write the whole word down so I will do a partial word, like the Hebrews do when they write G-d. Hereafter it will be referred to as M-n-pa-se. Or one I like better, a Harry Potterish term, “She who must not be named.” You see, I am much too young for this.

I sat in the soft glow of those lights and for some reason I thought of Jesus words when He grabbed Peter up, sputtering and clinging out of the water that he had only moments before been walking on. “Why did you doubt?” I feel like he must have said it softly, sadly. Not accusatory.

It all started going downhill yesterday when I couldn’t remember the code to the RV gate. My brain locked up. I didn’t say anything because I wanted to remember it on my own. It never came.

Then last night I froze at the keyboard trying to order a print from Costco. Then I started crying because of the picture of Sydney……and he……is…..getting……old and he will die and I don’t know how I will deal with that sweet cat dying. I scared Elaine.

And this morning I sat there in the glow of the lights descrambling my brain……what was that code? I ran through the numbers, 2030, 20103, 23103……Then thankfully, finally the right number dropped into the empty space. Thank you God, maybe I am not going insane after all.

I read the study that was just done, that they have proven that M-n-pa-se brain fog is real. I could have told them that.

And right then I realized I was dealing with pure and simple fear. If I can’t remember things, how can I be depended on? And if I can’t be depended on, what value am I? Then I thought of the other verse, that one that never fails to comfort me.

‘Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.’

Sometimes, picking up your cross consists of getting up and doing it all over again no matter how you feel.

I really don’t want to be insane. And giving up is not an option. When people are counting on you, the way you honor them is by getting up again; by placing your hope in the One who has brought you through time after time. And while most of us could think of plenty of reasons why going back to bed seems like the best option, most of the time we don’t.

As the door slides open and I scan my badge going in to work the thought comes: “If they knew the state of my mind right now they would never trust me to do this job.”

But I believe if God gives you a task, He will give you what you need to complete it. And this morning I am thankful despite how I feel, because I have a support system and some have nobody. And when I stop to think about it? All this speculation and rumination about how I feel is a luxury in itself.

Some people just want enough food and water, a chance for their children to live another day. Maybe helping some of them is the best way we can help ourselves.

A couple ways you can help:

Help One Now

World Vision

Follow Me

“For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death.”

“We’ve all made our mistakes, and dwelling in the past can destroy us. The solution is to make the most of the time we have left on this earth.” Francis Chan

For the Christian, how should that look? What does making the most of the time mean in the context of what Jesus requires of us? David Platt answers these questions by holding a light up to what the Bible (and Jesus) actually say. Sometimes it is painful to stare hard into the light of the truth of Scripture. It’s much easier to accept what many of our modern churches tell us.

“All you have to do is repeat this prayer after me.”

Jesus said we needed to lose our life in order to save it.

“Just believe in your heart, and you will be saved.”

Jesus said we needed to pick up our cross and follow him.

I checked this book out at the library, but I am turning it in and buying a copy on Amazon instead. I am already wanting to get out my highlighter and mark it up. And I am only on page 18.

That’s about all I have to say today, but I am sure as I delve into this book I will have much more…….

It all comes down to Jesus

It all comes down to Jesus.

When we got home from visiting Elaine’s Mom yesterday, I called my own Mom. It was her voice I was hearing when I thought, “It all comes down to Jesus.”

It’s not easy to go there. To visit the places where they check in but they don’t check out, except through death. It’s easy to put thoughts of mortality on the back burner when you are feeling good, doing something you love to do but as soon as you walk through those doors, it all comes front and center.

I call care homes the great equalizers. We may not all end up there, but we are all heading that direction. Justin Bieber will be there someday and so will Tom Cruise. Hard to imagine, unless you see it often. When you see people whose minds have slipped away you think, “There but for the grace of God go any of us.”

Yesterday, the whole time we were there, one lady carried her bedding from door to door, trying to get out, to go home. We were there for an hour and she never stopped. And at night, the staff said, it gets even worse.

One lady is not that old at all, but she suffered a stroke, and her words come out all scattered, like if you took a complete sentence and scrambled up the words that’s how it would come out. Like, “You…..know…..she…..think……my…..son…..train…..second…..year. She always looks stylish and classy and she always smiles when she sees us and points to Elaine’s Mom. I wonder what she would tell us if she could only string those words together?

Another lady has Alzheimer’s and yet they say when she sits down at the organ she can play any hymn you can name. Still another asks me how many kids I have every time I go in there. I think maybe I will give her a different answer every time, or maybe just tell her I have ten.

Whenever I leave there, it seems the birds sound sweeter, the sky seems bluer, life becomes something I want to inhale deeply. When it all comes down to it, we will sell everything we have now and all we will have left will be Jesus. Or not.

I always remember my sister-in-law, who found out how real Jesus was before she passed away at 43 of ovarian cancer. At the end, one of the songs she wanted at her service was, “Just Give Me Jesus.” She learned that as long as she had Him, she had everything.

If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake and for the sake of the Good News, you will save it. And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul?Is anything worth more than your soul?

No Lord, not one, single solitary thing.

How we carry the church wherever we go

The One who breaks open the way will go up before them;
they will break through the gate and go out.
Their King will pass through before them,
the Lord at their head.” Micah 2:13

I wasn’t going to do it. I wasn’t going to buy yet another book that chronicled the failings of the American church. Maybe I am tired of being scolded. On my shelf I have Crazy Love by Francis Chan, Confronting Casual Christianity by Charles Stanley, Radical by David Platt, Hole in the Gospel by Richard Stearns, and Classic Christianity by Bob George. The ones I read had some very good points which I couldn’t argue with. Sometimes the truth hurts.

I recently picked up Follow Me, another by David Platt. I have yet to crack the cover, but I am going to do so this week.

There is a reason these books resonate, have rocketed to the best seller charts. In every generation, God brings voices out of the wilderness. To challenge. To wake up. To engage. I have been reading Amos and Micah and I have been moved with their words, their anguish for a lost people. We need people to help us find our way back. There is a reason African missionaries are training to come over here.

Whom God loves, he chastens. God loves His church because He loves us.

The church is not a building. The church is living and breathing in you and me and everywhere we go we carry it with us. Yesterday we went to downtown Phoenix and on the way, on the lightrail, we went through areas where the poorest of the poor live. I pointed out the window and told Elaine, “That’s where the church should be, that’s where Jesus would be if he were here.”

Outside the window there was a man wearing a very offensive T-shirt. I said, “Isn’t that against some kind of law?” She said, “No, not anymore.” I won’t even repeat what it said. It was disgusting. And then I said, “God loves him too.” A part of me, a really big part of me, wanted a huge guy to approach him and confront him about his shirt, put him in his place. Tell him that he shouldn’t wear that around women and children. It’s hard to love people like that. But love is what we are called to do.

I will crack the cover of this book and I will be open to the message, be open to the truth, even if it hurts because it is probably something I need to hear.

All over the world and right here in America too, the Holy Spirit is moving. The church is moving, and the gates of hell will not prevail against it. God said that.

Just last night we sat at an outdoor cafe. There on the sidewalk about 10 yards away stood a young homeless man with his dog. He was dirty with matted hair, and skinny. As we ate our food he kept convicting us. I thought, how could someone so young end up like that? A woman pulled up in a car as we watched and began unloading things from her trunk. She gave the dog some food, and him a sandwich. Elaine said, “Bless her heart.” She got up and approached the woman with some money to help out. She said, “Give it to him.” So she did.

There might be a chance that they are a team, working together. Unfortunately there are many scams artists around. But it really doesn’t matter.

You give when the Spirit directs and after that, He does the blessing.

I will keep listening to Micah and Amos, because we still need their wisdom and warning. They voices work just as well today.

Good news for the common man

Then Amaziah the priest of Bethel sent a message to Jeroboam king of Israel: “Amos is raising a conspiracy against you in the very heart of Israel. The land cannot bear all his words. For this is what Amos is saying:

“‘Jeroboam will die by the sword,
and Israel will surely go into exile,
away from their native land.’”

Then Amaziah said to Amos, “Get out, you seer! Go back to the land of Judah. Earn your bread there and do your prophesying there. Don’t prophesy anymore at Bethel, because this is the king’s sanctuary and the temple of the kingdom.”

Amos answered Amaziah, “I was neither a prophet nor the son of a prophet, but I was a shepherd, and I also took care of sycamore-fig trees. But the Lord took me from tending the flock and said to me, ‘Go, prophesy to my people Israel.’

Israel basically told Amos to get outta dodge. To go back where he came from and continue herding sheep and growing fig trees. They were bloated on their power, in love with their wealth and comforts, and they were talking advantage of the poor and needy. That never sits very well with God.

At first Amos held the spotlight on Israel’s neighbors and that was all good with them. But when Amos started listing all their sins on the town marquee it got ugly. They wanted him out of there.

I like the fact that God roots for the underdogs of the world. It is easy to convince myself that I am one. But the lessons of the Israelites can be equally applied to me. And it stings. In reading these Chapters I need to ask myself the hard questions.

Am I getting complacent? Am I quick to point fingers of blame at someone else, when I need to be looking inwardly at myself? Am I getting lazy? Am I putting myself above others when I don’t reach out because it’s too uncomfortable?

Amos reminds me that though God loves the underdog, the common working class, he also loves the people drunk on their own self-importance who don’t think they need him at all. He loves them enough to warn them.

I remember all the times in my life when he gave me second and third chances. I am bowled over by his compassion, by his mercy that never seems to run dry.

There are so many things in this life that scream for justice, and it seems to be getting worse. It’s so easy for me to jump up and down and scream, “Yeah God, get them, get them!”

Get those people who are doing unspeakable things to children.

Get the those politicians in Washington who couldn’t care less about us hard-working folks, who have their pensions and their pockets stuffed with bribes.

Get the addicted mother who has 6 kids she doesn’t even care about running wild raising themselves, while she sits on the couch sucking on cigarettes as well as the system. (I know this to be true)

But God never told me to be concerned with them, but with my own heart.

I am thinking of a scene, that breakfast meeting on the beach where Jesus met the disciples after his resurrection. Peter asked him a question concerning John. I love what Jesus says, and I can imagine him saying it with a measure of remonstration in his voice and love radiating out of his eyes at the same time.

Jesus answered, “If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me.”

Yes, Lord. I get it. Point taken.

Grace Dispensers

Linking up with Duane Scott and Shelly Miller today, join me there too?

We sat outside on the front porch of the carehome, she, her Mom and I. Another lady in a wheelchair came out for a smoke. E. helped her find her lighter. We were commenting on different cars that came by, talking about nothing in particular. The lady in the wheelchair was punctuating our last words with, “Uh huh…..and Yes.”

A cement truck went by and E. told the lady next to us that she used to drive one, in her words, “When I was young and too stupid to be scared.” Her Mom, ever the harbinger of goodwill and bolsterer of egos says, “Now you’re old and stupid.” I blew out a breath……The verbal assaults and barbs she always had at the ready never failed to shock me. I guess a lifetime of negativity doesn’t die easily, even with Alzheimer’s.

It was the one thing that was most difficult when her Mom lived with us.

Ever the contradiction in terms, this was the same Mom who cried after she read the story I had written about her own daughter’s years driving a cement mixer. How she gained the trust of the men by applying herself to being the best driver there was, even so far as having contractors request her for the most difficult jobs.

I snuck the words out under my breath, “This would be almost bearable after a couple of Coronas.” She snorted a laugh.

After that, we went to see her Dad. As I witnessed her attending to him, I couldn’t help remembering the paranoia and the padlocked doors, the way he threatened his own daughter with violence. Things I won’t even talk about here.

And even though you know it’s the dementia talking, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

That was also the same man who went with us when we put E’s 18-year-old cat down. He cried harder than any of us.

Day in and day out, for years I have watched her be a dispenser of mercy and grace to parents who were never there for her. And each day she refills her cup from a Holy fountain that never runs dry. She shoulders her grief and sadness courageously and I know she doesn’t tell me everything. Because then the dam would break and run over and she couldn’t continue to do what she does.

This is the kind of living lesson you could never get sitting in church, it’s only in the deep trenches where God meets you at the bottom, when He smiles and hands you a shovel.

One day not too long ago, her Dad said he wanted his beard shaved. (He doesn’t trust the aides to do it). I honestly don’t know if I could have put my Jesus sandals on for that one, but she did. It was as she finished that he said the five words she quite possibly had never heard before.

“You are a good daughter.”

And sometimes when you’re at your weakest, God sends His confirmation that He is paying attention. That He approves.

One day it was love letters in the parking lot of the nursing home. And yesterday it was two snow-white doves that landed on each side of her school bus.

The driver behind her was incredulous. He had never seen anything like it. He told her they landed, one on each side right before they all took off for the morning run.

And if that weren’t enough confirmation?

As she pulled in the driveway yesterday there was another one, also snow-white. We have scads of doves around here, but never have I seen one while one let alone three.

No one can convince me that the Holy Spirit wasn’t masquerading as those white doves. I know it.

Help me Lord to be more like my friend who keeps on refilling her cup and offering it back to the One who is worthy, even if it hurts. Each day looking to You for a fresh supply. Because it isn’t just a one time thing.

Along the way I discovered a facet of faith I never noticed before, the truth that forgiveness is not an action as much as a discipline. A solo acknowledgment of absolution or single act of disentanglement from the situation wasn’t enough. Margaret Feinberg.

All around us there are living lessons to be learned. But we can’t learn the lessons God has for us we are so caught up in rights and wrongs and who is deserving and who is not. We lose sight of the Grace that He continues to pour out on us every day.

Help me be a Grace dispenser Lord.

When God stops teaching you, you better worry

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith–and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God–Ephesians 2:8

This is a repost from February of 2012 but the lesson hasn’t changed. The man I spoke of here is now with Jesus, he passed from death to life on Easter weekend of this year and no telling just how many he talked to are there in Heaven with him now too……

Driving home from work last night I breathed a prayer…….”thank you Lord for getting me through the day.” And then another thought, right on the heels of that. Is getting through enough? Is it not diminishing the capacity of wonder in a day to pray that kind of prayer? I do understand it……I fully understand that sometimes it is a real accomplishment to do just that, but too often I don’t set my sights high enough. I catch myself settling for less, when God wants to give me more.

I had to apologize. Then I started to count the beauty moments, the grace moments in the day. I remembered a conversation I had with a brother believer, and in those moments that we sat and shared at the cafe, a window of Heaven was opened. He reminded me that everything we do, everywhere we are can be a ministry. A moment of opportunity. You see, each month he flies to Houston for his cancer treatments, and though he wouldn’t have chosen his present circumstances, he shared how so many times God has placed someone in the seat beside him that needed to hear about what God is doing in his life.

Eternity moments. Reflected in each of our days, each one precious, a gift.

How can I pray to just get through the day when I know that almost certainly, the sky wasn’t just this color yesterday? How can I pray to just get through the day when there is someone waiting to hear what God is doing in my life, what He could do in theirs?

Every conversation has the possibility in it of changing someone’s life, someone’s eternity. Of opening a window of Heaven and letting the light spill out. I do believe that when you are suffering, getting through the day in one piece is quite an accomplishment, but that wasn’t the case with me yesterday.

Thank you God, for reminding me of this. For loving me enough to teach me yet another lesson. Thank you for the grace that I walk in each and every day.

Bringing eternity into the here and now

Join Shelly Miller and Duane Scott today for the Wonderstruck Book Club!

There are times when you need to get away and you need it as bad as you need air.

When E’s Mom was living at the house, I took mini-Sabbaths often at Wal-Mart amidst the patio furniture. It’s a far cry from a pine forest or waves lapping against your feet, but hey, sometimes you have to take what’s readily available. At work I go outside just to hear the birds and maybe throw them some bread from my sandwich. Or I take a short walk and gaze up at the clouds to remind myself that it’s all still there. I find those times are crucial for my emotional and mental well-being.

I have always been attracted to the idea of praying the hours, the idea of taking a set time each day for prayer. To me, the morning and the evening are Holy and I feel I have missed something if I don’t get to see the sunrise or see His grand artwork in the sky at the close of day. When I first started having a regular prayer time, it usually went pretty much the same. I would start with praise, thanking Him for anything and everything that came to mind, then I would pray for specific needs of people for myself or others.

Now, I try to follow His leading more. Sometimes I ramble on and sometimes I sit in silence. Sometimes I just breathe and meditate on God’s goodness, and that is a prayer too. Sometimes I use my prayer language and sometimes, like Margaret, I use just a few words…..peace, or hope or sometimes just help! (I use that one a lot)

When I willingly get off the merry-go-round even for a moment, and get in tune with God’s rhythm I have found that something within me expands…….the world gets smaller and He gets bigger.

If I can, I extend my prayer time by a morning walk. I have always been a nature girl with my ear to the ground waiting to learn the secrets God reveals through what He has made. The desert captures you slowly. You resist at first seeing only the thorny plants, the relentless heat, but then the desert blooms and the lightning strikes and wonder abounds.

It speaks to those who listen. All of nature does. It holds mysteries that only God knows the answers to. How the Cactus wren can land and live in the giant Saguaros without getting impaled is beyond me. Each time I see them land, I almost want to close my eyes. But God has shown them just how to do it.

These quail babies at 4 days old are totally out of the nest and on their feet following Mama……I have seen as many as eight!

And this mourning dove I saw when I took my walk early one morning, safely nesting between the barbs of this cactus, God knows she will be safe there from predators. She looked out at me calmly serene in her surroundings, at peace as I strolled on by.

Observing the wonder of God’s creation is one way we can honor Him and in order to properly do that, we need to slow down long enough to see it. I love how Margaret Feinberg puts it:

Making time to pause isn’t just a holy opportunity but a divine command. Pg. 67

And when we follow God’s leading by making one day different from all the rest, we enter into His rest and then we see why it’s so important. We no longer think of the things we can’t do but the things we gain by taking a Sabbath. God wants it for us because it’s for our good. I am so grateful for Wonderstruck, because it has reminded me that living a life of wonder is really the only way to live.

Wonder is a way we can bring eternity right into the here and now.

Sometimes you have to slow to a stop and reset before you can experience divine presence, my hunger to know God increased as I learned how to develop a healthy rhythm in life and rediscovered the wonder of rest. Margaret Feinberg

Am I welcome here?

Yesterday in church, Pastor Kevin related a story. A woman came to him asking questions about our church, she was confused. She had been visiting a few different churches in the area. On Easter, she had been one of the 967 people to walk “through the arch” and give her life to Christ. She wanted to get baptised but she had some questions. She related an experience she recently had at another church she was thinking of attending. She saw that they needed help in the Children’s ministry so she went to volunteer. She was told that she would have to change her attire, “If you come back in a skirt,” they said.

Kevin described her clothing as “urban.” In her own words she says: “I dress like I am from the hood.” That included a few tattoos and piercings. She asked, “Would I have to change my clothes to get baptized?”

Am I welcome here just the way I am?

She also asked that same church for help moving but once they found out she was living with her boyfriend they said, “As long as you are living with him, we can’t help you.”

The door slammed the second time and the message was clear; make yourself and your life presentable first, then we can help.

She was justified in having some concerns and questions and I am very happy to say that Pastor Kevin assured her that she was indeed welcome just the way she was. That’s why I attend the church I do. But clearly, it seems some churches are handing out a different message that the one Jesus handed out. What they are asking for, God doesn’t even ask. Jesus asks us to simply come.

His grace extends to everyone but without Him it is impossible to change.

There is no effective or lasting change without Jesus coming first. It is not even possible to be sanctified without the work of the Holy Spirit, but it seems some churches are asking for the impossible. In effect, they are saying that anyone is welcome, but only as long as they clean up at the door. Until churches change that type of thinking, lives will remain untouched, unchanged. We will still have dead congregations that are still thinking they can make themselves acceptable without Jesus.

God wants to reach everyone. It doesn’t matter what we have or what we don’t have, what our background is, or what may be buried in our past. I like how Pastor Kevin said it. Instead of thinking, “What’s in it for me, we need to be asking how can I be more like God in this situation?”

Not what can I get out of today, but how can I show His love today?

Linking up with Michelle today at the Hear it on Sunday Community.

Diary of a mad shift worker

Glad god can’t sleep and that’s good because that makes it really handy for when I need Him (which is pretty much all the time.)

Awake at three I stare at the dark ceiling and wonder what I should do with a full hour. An hour of precious sleep makes my mind rebel against doing anything else but. I could pray but……

Can I pray with one half of my mind when the other half is sleep obsessed?

I could get up and read the Psalms or Wonderstruck but I lie awake and see if I get drowsy.

Now that I am awake the cats walk in circles like hawks around me.

I decide god can hear the praying half. With that one half I pray for the Jumping Tandem retreat, and for Elaine, Diane, my family, Dawn’s Uncle. Pat.

I thank Him for yesterday today and forever.

I don’t pray because I am a good person, I pray because I need Him and so does everyone else. And because hard things are going on down here.

But thankfully, a lot of good is happening too. Now is always a good time to Praise.

I could get up and eat green jello.

I think for the hundredth time that unless there is a conversion experience, people pretty much die how they have lived. Either peacefully or kicking and screaming and making it inconvenient and difficult for everyone right up to the end,

Or with a measure of peace and grace knowing they have done the best they good with God’s help and joy knowing they are going home.

And for one last request, for my prayer request to happen soon. You know what it is, God.

Because you are up all night and nothing gets past You. And I am so glad.

Indeed, he who watches over Israel (and me) will neither slumber nor sleep. Psalm 121:4

photo credit: Google images

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

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