Hope

When its still waters you seek………..

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 “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters. He restores my soul……”

The other day I awoke with a feeling of disquiet, of unrest. I felt like a rubix’s cube that someone had tried to fit back together wrong. Or that maybe there was a piece missing. I carried the feeling around that whole day. I was craving peace and still waters but I wasn’t sure how to go about getting it, I just knew I wanted it…..needed it.

Living the Christian life, we know those days will come. The best part however, is that we know they won’t last. We carry a living hope that refuses to let us despair, for we carry Christ wherever we go. The Holy Spirit rests deep within our soul. He is the still water we seek, and though at times the turbulence of this world rocks us, sends uneasy ripples in any number of ways, we need not worry.

Yesterday in prayer as I opened the Word, I felt those ripples begin to quiet as I read the words, fingered through those pages in the early hours. After awhile, I felt their calm assurance slowly begin to fit the pieces back together. I sensed a hope as I closed my eyes and once again meditated on those quiet waters. I felt Him start to restore my soul.

Because we need that, each day, don’t we?

The world rips us at the seams. People do it too, with hurtful words or actions tossed carelessly in our direction. The world is full of unrest, but here in this calm, in the eye of the storm, He restores us. He lets us know that no matter what happens outside.

He will be here with us on the inside. Where the still waters lie.

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He guides me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You have anointed my head with oil; My cup overflows. Surely goodness and loving-kindness will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Psalm 23

Photos: Gilbert Riparian Preserve, Gilbert Arizona, and The Bloedel Reserve, Bainbridge Island, Washington

 

What Matters Most

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How blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked, nor stand in the path of sinners, nor sit in the seat of scoffers! But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and in His law he meditates day and night. He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in its season and its leaf does not wither; and in whatever he does, he prospers.

The wicked are not so, but they are like chaff which the wind drives away; therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, Nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous. For the Lord knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish. Psalm 1:1-6

I was grieved by the news today. We’ve become a nation that now thinks it’s okay to openly negotiate with murders and cold-blooded killers. (I am speaking of the Taliban) Our government traded five notorious radicals that would think nothing of beheading your children, your elderly parents, your wife, your husband, your best friend, for a U.S. soldier who went missing as a deserter of his platoon. His own father uttered an Islamic greeting, referring to allah, during the press conference at the White House and he has also said he wants every detainee released from Guantanamo.

Meanwhile, Saeed Abedini, an Iranian-American Pastor who converted to Christianity, is serving the first year of an 8 year prison term for working with the underground church in Iran and protecting Iranian Christians from persecution. He was also working to open orphanages in Iran. He has endured long stints in solitary confinement, according to his supporters, beatings and torture at the hands of his jailers and fellow inmates. For months, he has been “denied proper medical attention for his injuries, according to his family and attorneys.”

His wife has repeated appealed to congress and the President for his release with no response.

All this to say, that while events of this world and the news distress us, we shouldn’t be surprised by any of it. Jesus Himself said as such. Instead we need to be focused on keeping our eyes on the One who keeps us in His peace and holds us in His grace. While there is always much to worry and stress about in this life, there is more beauty still.

Lately, my prayer has been that I will wake up before it’s too late. I don’t want to live from weekend to weekend just getting by. Sometimes, those of us with particularly stressful jobs (and really, who doesn’t?) put ourselves on autopilot. When we do that, we fail to really see the people and situations around us.

There is so much to be thankful for every day. Time is flying by at warped speed and I don’t want to miss what God has for me. No matter what we might think about the current political climate, with eternity’s values in view, it really doesn’t matter. What does matter is our relationship to our Father and to each other.

And love, love always matters most of all.

Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things. Philippians 4:8

 

Meeting God in-between

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 The God who made the world and all things in it, since He is Lord of heaven and earth, does not dwell in temples made with hands; nor is He served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives to all people life and breath and all things; and He made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed times and the boundaries of their habitation, that they would seek God, if perhaps they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us; Acts 17:24-27

From little morning chore to little morning chore. That’s where I find Him. In the flat times too, when the air is still and the earth holds her breath, He comes to breathe life through His words, which I pick up first thing; Looking for hope in between its pages, I find it.

Poets might die, but the words always live on.

I wait here, in the Holy moment before life rushes around me on the bench by the garden as the shade pulls away slowly to reveal the scorch that is sure to come. I watch as the lone bee settles on the tomato blossom……doing what God made him to do.

The doves hover, waiting for the fountain and I marvel at the white stripes patterned on their wings as they fly off. Once again, I think that He has truly made it all good, as bad as this old world might seem as it groans on its axis along with us.

A new TV series called “Mistresses” would have been considered porn not long ago. And Dr. Phil is turning “Springer” with mediums and numerologists leading tearful, grieving people astray.

When someone tells you to consult mediums and spiritists, who whisper and mutter, should not a people inquire of their God? Why consult the dead on behalf of the living? Isaiah 8:19

It’s not wrong for them to want hope.

Meanwhile poets die, but the words always live on.

Hope is here.

He never left.

Meanwhile, the heat will not be deterred.

The desert settles in for the long haul, and so do God and I. Inside and outside of time,

we wait together.

RIP: Maya Angelou

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On earth as it is in Heaven

 

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When I left the theater after seeing Heaven is for Real, it was as if some of the noise of the world had been turned down and was replaced with a quiet deep within my soul. It didn’t hit me full force the way some movies do, it was more like it settled itself around me gently. If it had been a butterfly it would have landed on my shoulder and fluttered there like grace.

I walked past the brilliant yellow of the Palo Verde trees splashed against a sapphire sky. I heard the melody of bird-song interrupted by horns blaring, aggressive drivers speeding past the busy street just outside the parking lot; people in a hurry, people stressed and angry.

People needing a touch of Heaven.

I passed two men having a conversation where “F bombs” shot out like verbal canons, just another instance, one of many sprinkled throughout an ordinary day that call for some kind of redemption. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to get home and settle on my patio by the garden with a tall glass of tea, savoring the quiet, harboring my reflection. 

Looking around, it’s easy to see that our world needs the hope of Heaven.

As I walked out through the parking lot, it was easy for me to imagine a purer, better place right alongside this one. Little four-year old Colton Burpo says he was there, and ten years later, he still hasn’t changed his story.

I guess I am one of the lucky ones. I’ve never not believed in Heaven. For me, this film just echoed what I already believe, rather, what I already know. Because I believe in God and a perfectly good God has to live in a perfectly good place.

The question then becomes a provocative one: If we say we believe that Heaven is real, are we living as though it is? And as Colton’s Dad asks his congregation in the movie: If we truly believed what we say we do, how would our lives look different?

I drove home reflecting on all those times in my life when God has ripped the fabric of my world apart just enough to let the rays of Heaven leak through. Just enough to show me that I didn’t have to despair. Things that I know that I know that I know, couldn’t have come from anywhere else.

And when you have seen someone die with eyes full of hope, already filled with the reflection of Heaven, it’s easy to believe.

When Jesus came to this earth, He brought Heaven with Him. That’s what He meant when He said “The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.” Right here, right now. And when He left, He talked of going to a physical place, a place we can scarcely begin to imagine. A place He’s preparing for us!

It’s easy for children to believe in Heaven. All too often we undermine their simple faith with our own doubts. Sometimes I think we are almost afraid to really believe. I think one of the best things about the film is that it brings up some questions that we all must ask ourselves.

If we really believed as we say we do, how would our lives look different? I wonder.

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On Alzheimer’s and feeling lost

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We had plans to go to dinner with our neighbors from Canada who were leaving the next morning. She called me on the way to her Moms Carehome after work and asked if I would please go over and give them her apologies, that she wouldn’t be able to make it.

She was driving her route when she got the first two calls and couldn’t return them. After work, she returned the third call. One of the aides picked up. “Your Mom is not doing well, she is crying and asking why no one has been to see her and asking where her husband is?” He has been gone for almost a year and she hasn’t asked about him in just about that many months.

Her Mom has been in the facility over a year and she has settled reasonably well. But now, this.

The panic, the caregiver’s stress, in a moment it all came flooding back. Of course it never really left. Her days continue to be divided by work, home and going to see her Mom to do those tasks that seem to fall through the cracks continually.

I needed to go there, I heard the desperation in her voice and I thought maybe seeing another familiar person would help jog her Mom back into the present. I had to try.

When I got there they were seated at the dining table. E. was relieved to see me and her Mom perked up and said, “There’s Lori, Curtis must have come with her.” I groaned inwardly, and E. scurried around helping her Mom and assisting others at the table. I sat by Bethany and Joyce as they were passing out Dixie cups of ice-cream and had one myself.

Finally we got her to go back to her room, where we found she had been squirreling away socks and two bottles of water in her purse, ready to hit the road. Then the round of questions started all over again.

Where is Curtis?……When are we going home?……How long have I been here?……..What happened to the car?….. How much does all this cost?…..What do I have to do at the house?

It was like she was reliving the events of the past year all over again, back to square one.

E. looked over at me helplessly when Joyce asked where Curtis was for the 10th time. I shrugged helplessly back and mouthed the words…..”I don’t know.”

It was a day later that I had a kind of small personal epiphany. Sometimes, honestly, I feel just as lost as she does. I think we all do. We like to think we have an element of control, but as I sat in that room I wanted to ask the same questions Joyce was asking.

What happened to the last year? Where am I? Why do I feel so ill-equipped at handling day-to-day living sometimes? What happened to the person I was 5, 10, 15 years ago?

Sometimes life just beats the tar out of you.

By the time we left, Elaine was wiped out. She felt like she had propelled her Mom safely back to shore, but it took everything she had.

If dealing with Alzheimer’s has taught me anything, it’s taught me empathy. In watching Joyce, I see a bit of my own desperation and the desperation of the human condition in general. In the mirror of her lostness, I see my own.

It has also taught me the necessity of living one day at a time and doing the best I can with what God has given me. There are days that are hard, when you feel a little bit crazy, but then the next day is better.

And as long as God is the One rowing me safely back to shore, I will be okay.

How to hope after the unthinkable happens

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I saw her as I strolled on the back-forty of my brothers yard a couple of weeks ago in the early morning light. A flash of orange, she (or he) landed first on the fence, then fluttered down to hop among the grass, probably looking for breakfast among the dew. A robin sighting is always hope for me. I snapped her several different times before Tyler managed to scare her away. I couldn’t blame him, his enthusiasm was infectious as he ran to and fro, nose to the ground, seeming to thank me with a glance and wag of his tail every now and then.

Sometimes we need to cling to signs of hope however small when news comes to rock our world. I believe God created birds with a special role, that of singing out hope even when ours has run dry.

I draw back a memory of a time when my world was painted black. The morning after the call came that pulled the curtain down on life as we all knew it, my Mom looked out to see a robin on the grass. He was her little thread of hope and she clung to it. She also remembers thinking that she couldn’t believe the birds were still singing. The audacity of it all. How could they?

The other day as I was praying in the car, a dove came to sit on the lip of my sunroof. He perched there looking at me for a moment, I think we both surprised one another…..then he flew off. I could tell you many more stories than this. Of other times God has sent birds.

Yesterday I got a call that something unthinkable had happened to a family member. From then on my day kind of went on pause mode. I hadn’t seen them in years but we all grew up together as kids. It’s a bond forged by memories and stories and for many years our lives intertwined and we were close. My heart breaks for them, but they’ve always been a strong family. Even now, their house is filled and they are surrounded on all sides with love. For that I am grateful.

There is nothing I could tell them right now that could take away the awful sorrow, and I wouldn’t even pretend to try. If I could I would hold them close and share their tears. I called and left a message on their phone and for the longest time the beep didn’t come to leave a message, so I started talking anyway.

I don’t even remember what I said, I just wanted them to know that they were in my heart. Later, I got a text message from him thanking me for thinking of them. Something he said in his message makes me wonder how it’s possible for someone to not know they are loved despite all the evidence surrounding them? How can we be assured that they know it, and that they love themselves enough to accept it?

And today, when I got up, the doves were cooing, and the birds were singing again, just as if they didn’t know what was going on. They can’t help it, they know the way out of sorrow is to keep singing no matter what, it’s what God created them to do. They know that there is something still worth singing about even if we don’t.

In my heart is a prayer that they will get through this even stronger and that once again hope will be theirs; that they will find a way out of the sorrow with the love they have for one another.

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How to remain soft (when the world gets too hard)

 

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In any given day we are exposed to hundreds of bits and pieces of information at rapid fire pace. Some of them are totally useless. This is why I listen to the news only enough to know what is going on in the world and no more.

We live in a world of sensationalism; of endless noise, where the biggest, saddest story gets the headlines. It’s the stories that hold the most tragedy, the most grief that are waived endlessly in front of our eyes all day long. I wonder what all this does to our psyches?

For the most part, there is little we can do about any of the events we hear about every day. Added on top of that, we have family, friends, jobs and responsibilities. Things and people who can’t wait.

We tend to filter it all out in order of importance, but some of the other stuff leaks in anyway. We have to let some things slide. In fact, it gets easier and easier to let more things slide. How do we deal with all these things we can do nothing about? It’s a question I have been asking myself.

While I was back home, there were two obituaries in the paper. A young girl and a young man who should have had everything to live for committed suicide. One of them jumped in front of a train and the other shot herself. And then hungry displaced Ukrainian children and the missing Malaysian flight with 239 people…..gone.

I wonder if we are all much more desensitized than we realize. I wonder if it’s all making me more desensitized to events in my own world than I realize? It scares me to think that.

In the world of long ago, many of us lived in small communities. We knew each other and each others families. When Sally fell into a well, or when Billy fell off the tractor, we all gathered together to help. When someone died, we all cried together, prayed together.

We dressed in black and went to the funeral, brought food to the family.

And slowly everyone healed. Grew closer together. We had a sense of resolution. It felt like some kind of closure.

But now I wonder. And it makes me think that what I do is even more important than ever. This getting alone with God in the mornings. As of late, I have been thinking that maybe it’s just something I do out of habit like reciting a memorized prayer by rote.

But even memorized prayers have words with meaning, words that God can fan into flame with His power just like He can ignite our hearts to love all over again.

I think of Jesus when He was on this earth. I think of how hard it must have been to see the heartache and know that He could have just waved His hand and taken it all away. But He didn’t. He healed hearts and people one at a time, just like He wants us to do now.

Jesus had the ability to display perfect empathy in every situation. One person at a time. And He had to get away for a while too, even though He was God. 

He got alone by the water, alone on the mountain. Who are we to think we don’t need to?

Yesterday the parking lot beckoned like an oasis. On break I went out to my quiet car because my brain just wouldn’t quit. I closed my eyes and remembered the sound of the waves.

I was worried about my Mom who was sick and my Dad whose body is failing him in many ways. And I felt my brother’s wounds and sorrow too. I heard my niece processing her fears of missing me “when Nori goes back to work,” and I heard my Mom’s voice as she wistfully said, “Mom’s and daughters shouldn’t be separated.” I agree Mom. I hear you, you’re right. I felt it all, along with the joy.

As I sat there with the sun warming my shoulders, I threw a line of prayer out every now and then, not feeling it much. With my eyes still closed, I startled when I heard the rustle of wings close, and the unmistakable squeak of a dove as she landed. Right on the lip of my sunroof.

She stood staring down at me, so close we were almost eye to eye. I thought she might just fly into the car, but she just looked at me for a moment and flew off. It was a visitation. One moment of a hundred others in the day that stood out. A God moment.

And heading home, welcome words from a text on my phone.

“I am not going to the gym, I made dinner.” Oh, how I needed those words. A peaceful and restful evening after steak and asparagus. Oh yes, I will go to the gym tomorrow.

But for right now, this is how I heal. This is how we all heal each other.

Because sometimes, even after vacations, you still need a little rest.

Waiting in Hope, (even when you don’t feel very hopeful)

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Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” John 8:12

Saturday evening after work, I was drained. I was out of gas. I was trying to get home and traffic was crazy as usual. I left the freeway due to a detour and I was following the detour signs though I didn’t have to, I knew where I was. Sometimes it’s nice when you are forced off four lanes. The tension of the day was still knotted into my shoulders yet as I looked to my left I was hit with a jaw dropping sunset. Then I had one of those really deep theological sounding prayers that goes like this:

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, thank you.

And on the heels of that prayer the quiet thought came to rest deep in my soul, “How can I feel hopeless when I know the originator of that astounding light?”

Yet, we can. The world has a way of sapping our strength.

Yet in those times when the flame of our faith flickers low, we have the assurance of knowing the source behind that flame will never die. Our strength resides in the waiting and the trusting that He’s still there, and that the foundation we stand upon is firm. Our faith carries us even when we are not feeling particularly hopeful because we know our sense of hopelessness is temporary. And in the waiting, we grow stronger.

I took the exit that led me to Wal-Mart because I needed to get some things before I went home, and it was madness. I had forgotten that it was “Lost Dutchman Days” in Apache Junction this weekend. That means 20,000 extra people in our humble town. I think every single one of them was at Wal-Mart, along with me.

I steered through the crowds, weaving in and out like a person possessed. I ran while God whispered. He pointed out the daffodils poking their sunny heads out of the ugly black buckets. He knows they always make me smile. And He elbowed me to see the little stuffed cat that looked just like the one that my niece carried with her from the time she was very small…….it made me think of a sweet time in her life and mine.

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The next morning was Sunday, and I still felt hung-over from the work-week. I gave myself a time-out. I tried to go out and pray and my prayers hit a Teflon ceiling. I sat in the silence aware of nothing but my own gloomy disposition. My candle flickered for nothing, it seemed.

Blowing on the embers, I dug out an old Praise CD from 1989, the ones you hardly hear anymore in church. I lit candles, I read and whiled away the day in my sweats. I finished a book and started another. It felt good. But I still didn’t feel hopeful. My Dad called, and told me about a wonderful testimony in church he heard. Three sisters baptized and the oldest girl, 18, had everyone in tears with her words.

He almost didn’t go. In fact, he took my Prayer Closet book out to his swing and out fell the two pages that Elaine found that sad day in the parking lot of the rest home. Those words, still giving him the hope that they gave her when she first found them. Read about it here.

And the angel said unto them, Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all the people: for there is born to you this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord.” Luke 2:10,11

This is what gives us hope even when the world tries its best to snatch it away. This morning, I awoke to hope again. It never really went anywhere. It was just waiting for me to receive it again. Sometimes you just have to wait in the expectation of hope, even when you don’t feel very hopeful.

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I Woke to Beauty

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Once again, Mama dove is sitting in her place in the spiny cactus waiting for her baby. Seasons are really, renewed hope are they not? That even when life gets scary and you fill fear crawling up your back and life seems unstable that some things will go on as they should. I have been so concerned about my Mom’s health, and yet she is the one who always taught me to look for the beauty no matter what.

To look for the robin after the storm.

So today, I awoke after a fitful night to a world of beauty. The birds were singing, and the weather was glorious despite the fact that we have had almost no rain. Somehow the cactus will still manage to bloom. There is doom and gloom on the news because of the early fire season and while that is a real danger, I will choose today to look at what God wants me to see.

The wondrous cloak of clouds this morning amidst the backdrop of the doves and mockingbirds call……

The freshly tilled earth, seeds waiting to spring.

A best friend who stands behind me no matter what, ready to help, ready to pray, ready to do whatever is necessary in any situation.

Coffee, dark and rich and clouds of foam that cover my top lip as I sip luxurious cup after cup.

Last night I had a dream in which I saw Jesus approach a sick boy and take the sickness from him, I saw it. It was like a brief cameo shot in a movie but it was there just the same, just as real as if I really saw it.

He still rules and reigns and while there is no cure for sickness or aging, there is one for the death that really matters……..thanks to Him. That is why I will rejoice in the midst of sorrow and worry and pain and stress.

Wherefore we faint not; but though our outward man is decaying, yet our inward man is renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is for the moment, worketh for us more and more exceedingly an eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

I also invite you to go here to read about a friends beautiful words of awakening to hope. You will be blessed, I promise.

Something about a garden

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Now the LORD God had planted a garden in the east, in Eden; and there he put the man he had formed……Genesis 2:8

There is something about a garden whether big or small, intricate or humble that infuses us with hope. Even the birds seem to know it. Yesterday after E. had restructured the watering system and dug up all the old dirt she sowed the seed that will produce fresh tomatoes and watermelon and fresh spinach and okra. Yes okra. This Yankee girl has fallen in love with the slimy vegetable that seems to be the red-headed stepchild of the vegetable world to hear others talk. I believe it’s all how you cook it. Douse it with a bit of flour and cornmeal and fry it up hot and summer comes to life.

After the bubblers were turned on and everything was in good working order, the dove promptly hopped down between the furrows and started drinking from the fresh drips. It was almost like a confirmation that yes, this is a very good thing.

Gardening in the desert is a particular challenge which makes the victory all that much sweeter when you start to see those shoots pushing up through the ground that you’ve so carefully cultivated. The artichoke plants on the side of the house are flourishing. As of yet, no artichokes…….but if last year is any indication there will be more than we can eat.

This morning I went out and opened up the umbrella and had my coffee at the table. I arranged the gnome in his corner of the garden where he will keep watch….with his surfboard. He has a long wait for waves here in the desert. But he still hopes. A bit of my Aunt Esther also rests there in the form of a garden angel, a duplicate which E. made of the one she always had in her garden, which she loved. When I look at that angel, I think of her coming in after picking tomatoes, sweat rolling down her face which was easily as red as the tomatoes themselves.

When you think about it, gardens are our heritage, handed down to us by God himself, the Master Gardener. Sitting by the garden I feel my roots, it’s a bit like coming home again.  I think about my Grandma and Grandpa who could grow anything……I wonder if they ever imagined me as they sowed those seeds. My Grandpa’s favorite hymn was “In the Garden.” I think of him strolling along in the early morning hours, He and Jesus. I like to think he prayed for me.  I can see him now, sitting in God’s own garden, surrounded by eternal light.

As I sit here in this place, I feel his prayers. The earth waits in anticipation, now all we need is time. Someday I’ll join him, but until then I will visualize him here in this little place. He, and everyone who has ever planted a seed in hope of a harvest.

A garden is the hope of salvation, a resting place and a promise of better things to come.

The Lord will surely comfort Zion and will look with compassion on all her ruins; he will make her deserts like Eden, her wastelands like the garden of the Lord. Joy and gladness will be found in her, thanksgiving and the sound of singing. Isaiah 51:3