God’s love

Not just another day…….and thank you Mrs. Evans.

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As I raised my flag today in the half-light of the morning that is 4:15, I glanced up at the sliver moon and the sky which was still scattered with stars and as always on this day, I was thankful. And my gratitude, as always, was overshadowed by the sense of sad remembrance that others had died for my freedom.

All through our history the flag is tinged with blood and it’s something I don’t take lightly.

Others have paid. Most recently, it was 19 young men who probably never thought they would give their lives for the sake of keeping a town and its people safe that day. But they knew they might. They might have thought it was just another work day. And every day people do this…..our military, our police, our firefighters, and everyday they don’t get recognized enough.

As I drove to work I listened to a John Philip Sousa medley and I sang the Star Spangled Banner at the top of my lungs. It wasn’t easy because it was stuck in with other songs and it was fast. But my heart was there. As I sang, I remembered learning every single patriotic song under the direction of Mrs. Evans, my first grade teacher. We put on a concert where we sang them all…..out of tune and loudly. And the parents loved it.

I think one of my favorites was “You’re a grand old flag.” I wonder how many kids today even know it? I remember Cindy Yeaman singing in my ear. Her mother must have told her to sing loud so she could hear her, boy did she.

Thank you Mrs. Evans,  for I think of you every patriotic holiday that comes around.

Even though I have to work today and have worked many Independence Days over the years, it will never be just like any other day. I may do the same tasks, go through the same motions, but my heart rejoices in the freedom others paid for.

More than anything else, I remember the greater freedom bought with Holy blood on a cross. A God who loved so much that He gave until it hurt. And while soldiers, police officers, firefighters and others in public service continue to give all to save some, and that is what we remember today; God came so that He could save all.

“The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.” 2 Peter 3:9

That’s the greater freedom I will celebrate.

And as I do, I will snatch quiet moments to pray for the families of those 19 men who died, and our soldiers still fighting many different kinds of battles, some of which start after they come back home.

Tonight, as I roll in the driveway full of the thankfulness of being home, of having a home, I will pray for the ones who just lost theirs, and much more. As I get ready to celebrate by eating special food and watching  fireworks from the high school light up the sky, I will also think about how I was bought with a price by a God who loves me.

And give thanks again.

Because even though I had to work, it wasn’t  just an ordinary day.

And really, what day is?

 Photo credit: AP/Julie Jacobson, 19 red roses honoring the fallen firefighters

 

It’s always the lone bird that gets me

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This message was tacked on the cupboard in my parents’ kitchen, in my Dad’s writing. He is having a hard time right now. Macular degeneration is making reading difficult. He has always found solace in the written page, in books. It’s always been a big topic of our discussions. It’s hard trying to support your family from far away. I walk around with a certain amount of guilt on any given day. I don’t know anymore how it would be to live without it. I guess you can get used to anything, just like my Dad says you can get used to bad eyesight and hearing loss.

Vacation may be over, but I still hear the crashing of the waves, and the sound of those silly seals barking in the sun on that dock. I still feel the cool of the grass my niece insisted I lay in. I hesitated, knowing Tyler poops there, but as children will she insisted that I share the joy of the moment. And I did.

I had forgotten how the grass speaks if you listen. And it’s a language only children and God can hear and some adults who have not let go of the wonder.

I remembered how she clung to my hand during Sesame Street live, and how small my Mom felt when I  hugged her, not wanting to let her go, and going to breakfast with her and sharing a plate. And I smiled when I remembered my Dad and I cleaning the fish tank, spilling water and trying to scoop fish that didn’t want to be caught. And feeding my brother ice in the emergency room.

I wonder at the strange twists and turns of life, how all of a sudden the big brother can be the weak one you be the strong one.

It’s hard to fight for your family from a distance. Hard to help when miles stretch out long, between us but I try.

But I thank God that His arms are long and they reach far and wide.

So many times it’s not the grand chorus that does me in, but  the solo. The lone bird that sings, that one note ringing out when all else is silent. The one that insists that there is always hope because with God there always is. Everyone has stuff. But the key is knowing God has you and He won’t let you go.

God astounds me, because He knows when I need to know that He still has me.

He speaks in those quiet moments when we kneel in between life and everything else, when the bell tolls the hours that you may not even hear, but you can feel the weight of just the same. When we are feeling weak and crumpled and useless. And helpless.

He will never turn away from humility. “But He gives a greater grace. Therefore it says, “GOD IS OPPOSED TO THE PROUD, BUT GIVES GRACE TO THE HUMBLE.” James 4:6

For just a moment, I wanted to touch the last remaining embers of the time treasured. I wanted to hear the laughter, feel the peace, thank Him for the joy we felt, and how He was there with us all along.

As I sank to my knees, knowing there was not one thing I could do to hold time back, I touched Heaven instead.

It’s good to be home, and it will be good to go back next time. Until then, God keeps me. Keeps us all.

Riptide of love

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God caught me by surprise me this morning.

That’s how the Holy Spirit works, like the wind, you never know when He might come (it’s part of the mystery)

His Spirit washed over me like a wave. It was  unexpected and I almost couldn’t contain it.

Because how can you contain a God that even stones will cry out to?

How can I be anything less than an instrument of His praise from my first breath to my last?

Sometimes He gives me a glimpse…..just one is all it takes and I fall in love. All over again. He knows when I need assuring.

Just the fact that He does reveal Himself to me stuns me with silence but the next moment I want to pull my car over and jump up and down on the side of the road.

Our God is a shockandawe kind of God, powerful enough to calm the sea and taunt death.

He breaths fire from his nostrils and carries lambs on His shoulders and I can scarcely imagine the depths of His love and mercy.  

He calms the sea and walks through walls like some kind of Superhero God.

He tames lions and turns people into pillars of salt, stops them in their tracks.

Yet He grips me in His gentle Hand like King Kong might hold a butterfly.

He allows me to feel the glow of  His Holy fire from a distance because He knows too close would burn me like the sun.

I am blown away by the fact that He loves me and the timing He uses to let me know.

I was riding a wave, caught in the riptide of His love, I was surfing on a wave of fire.

Consuming fire and gentle whisper hung on a cross.

Satan thought He won that day, He was doing a victory dance over that one.

But he made a huge mistake by underestimating the power of love,

left out of the loop of God’s plan by his own failure to imagine what God might do to save us.  

He didn’t think God would go through with it.

But He did.

Oh happy day.

Painting by Duane Scott

Stop, look and listen

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Oh Lord, as I sat and watched You grab your paintbrush and color the domed ceiling of Heaven once again, I was mesmerized by your beauty. I watched how the clouds caught the light and It happens just the same way every morning and it’s always a miracle because You have placed us here. Apart from Your will we would never draw a single breath.

The birds glory in the light with chorus, each one unique to themselves. Yet we still try to sing another’s tune without mastering our own. You say, “Sing the one I made you to sing and sing it well. That bit of glory is the bit of Heaven you came to earth with.” As the wind blows on a cinder and it glows bright orange, that’s our life when He places His Spirit within us.

I think of my puny worries that rise up along with the sun and I say, Lord, what about this, what about that? You say to each one, “I got that, and yeah, I got that one too.” If I can make this sky each and every day, why do you worry?

Therefore I say unto you, be not anxious for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than the food, and the body than the raiment? Matthew 6:25

There is so much unrest in the world today and we all feel it. It’s as if we are all collectively bracing ourselves for the next calamity……..we hold our breath, breathing shallow and rushing here and there and then we let it out when something causes us to stop in our tracks……a sunset….a child playing in a fountain….flowers waving in the breeze. 

Those are God’s stop signs. So today Lord, I will try to remember you have it all under control. I will stop, look and listen.

For you.

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Good news for the common man

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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.

How we can…..praise through the storms.

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I was sure by now
God You would have reached down
And wiped our tears away
Stepped in and saved the day
But once again, I say “Amen”, and it’s still raining

As the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain
“I’m with you”
And as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away

Casting Crowns, Praise you in this Storm

I wasn’t going to pray this morning, but as the awful images rolled across my screen of the terrible storm that ripped through the Midwest yesterday I thought, “How can I not?” I thought of the different kinds of storms that are hitting all around me like lightning strikes. And they just keep hitting. How would it feel to have everything you own ripped away? I can’t even imagine it. As I look at on my patio today there are all kinds of boxes from a storage unit just cleared out. All stuff. But all stuff that can be replaced.

I think of the other kinds of storms, the tornadoes and floods of life that have nothing whatever to do with the weather.

How will Bill go on without Nancy? A man in our park recently died. His wife Nancy is left behind. Every day she and Bill would ride around together on their bikes. We all nicknamed them “The Sanford’s” because they would ride around on garbage day and look at what everyone set out to see if there was anything they might take home. Nancy will have to ride alone now, and my heart hurts for her.

And my Dad is losing his eyes. Macular degeneration and cataracts are making it hard for him to do the things he has to do and the things he loves to do. He has to have shots in his eyes. Why should he have to go through that? I don’t think it’s fair. My own eyes squeeze tears back when I think of him not being able to read. We have always discussed books together. I wonder why God didn’t heal his eyes like I asked.

A dear friend just lost her husband at 58.

The substance abuse problem that lays like a big fat sleeping dragon that I wish I could slay for someone else.

Too many storms to count here, and it doesn’t seem they will be leaving anytime soon. In light of all this, how in the world could I think I could pass on prayer?

As I sit down to write all this, I can say in my heart of hearts, that I can still praise God in light of who He is. Because He is worthy. And because in each and every storm that’s rolled across the plain of my life, He has been with me.

Astonishingly, I find that along with Casting Crowns, I can actually mean those words, even live those words if I have too, however painful it is.

Please join me today in prayer for all those affected by those terrible storms yesterday. My heart aches for my friends in the midwest. And my heart aches for the other kinds of storms I listed too. As I heard Duane Scott say this morning on Facebook, “Insurance agency will replace everything in the basement so we’re gonna take showers now, get the sewer water washed off, and drive into town for breakfast.”  I smiled when I read what he said next in light of all that is happening. Everywhere.

“Sometimes all you can do is just eat pancakes.”

Thank you Duane, I see the beauty and wisdom in that, and bless you for saying it and living it. I am not having pancakes, but later today I will pour myself an icy cold drink and I will go out and float in my kiddie pool for a while.

Because God hasn’t left. He’s still here with us. Especially in the storms.

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39

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All imagines from MSN and Bing AP news

Psalm 139 and a half

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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.

A Champion for Ragamuffins

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He was a champion for Ragamuffins everywhere. When I heard he died yesterday I was saddened because of the words of grace he will no longer write, but I was happy knowing he was with Jesus. Brennan Manning’s book Ragamuffin Gospel went through my parents house and then mine and then everyone we knew, we bought extra copies and passed them like batons at relay races.

Brennan Manning was like a quiet megaphone that spoke softly and yet loudly into our hearts something that we tend to forget. That we are dearly loved by God, and there is nothing we have to do to earn it. Like Sally Field’s memorable Oscar speech of 1985 in which she emphatically claimed, “You really, really like me,” Brennan Manning had a mission, and that was to spread the word that not only does God like us, He really really loves us.

He opened us up to the possibility that there was nothing we had to do to earn God’s love. That’s what spoke to my heart.

 He hung out with dignitaries as well as twelve-steppers, and his book made me cry more than once.

And he also challenged me in my walk:

In the final analysis, the real challenge of Christian growth is the challenge of personal responsibility. The Spirit of Jesus call out a second time: Are you going to take charge of your life today? Are you going to be responsible for what you do? Are you going to believe?

His words were a balm for my soul and I won’t forget him.

Even today, I grabbed my copy of Ragamuffin Gospel and threw it in my bag. I may never get the time to open it, but I know it’s there and it makes me feel good.

Enjoy the first day of the rest of your life, Brennan Manning, and we will join you after a time.

Then we will all be Ragamuffins Redeemed, sitting at the feet of Jesus with you. Until then, we will re-read your books and strive to live and walk in the footsteps of Jesus until such time as we begin our own forever with Him.