A Home for Adeline

I was in my warm bed when I read the story thumbing through Facebook, first at Sandra’s place, then at Jennifer’s, whose compassionate heart birthed a daring idea. That she could do something out of the ordinary. Something big. Something crazy. Something God-sized. And that maybe we could all join together and help out. I think our best strength as women is how we can be standing in line at the store and make a new friend, just like that.

And when I read about Adeline, I felt like I had met a new friend who I just couldn’t forget. You see, we all know there are millions of people like her, but if no one ever puts a name to a face and tells their story, they all just become something like a great mass of humanity and how in the world can we help them?

As I snuggled inside my big fluffy robe and put off going out to pray in the chilled air, I thought of Adeline again. And as I wandered from room to room in my “down-sized” home, it felt like a mansion. I had rooms…..space. And to be honest, this down-sized place is where I have felt more at home than any other. And this is my fifth. She just wants a room that doesn’t leak.

The custom home was a dream, something I never thought I’d have. Just one decision involved the size and shape of sink-bowls. That alone took up about 30 minutes and a lot of laughter, I might add. I had no idea there were that many colors, shapes, sizes, materials. Of sinks!

As I sat to pray, I lit my candle and looked around at my “little” shop. It is probably bigger than Adeline’s house. The one that’s falling down around her. I looked around and I couldn’t really pray. I just sat there thinking of her smiling face in the picture on Jennifer’s site. With the rain washing away her walls. I wished I could give her a place as solid as the little shop I was sitting in.

So I am going to help, I’m gonna do what I can. It might be small, but I believe when we add all those small things together they become miracles.

My prayers will be going with Jennifer when she goes to Haiti to see Adeline and her family. And I hope she can give her good news. Bless her. Bless them all. And bless you too.

If you want to help, go to ViBella Jewelry and put in the code “newhouse” when you order. Thirty percent of sales will go to a new home for Adeline.

Church on the Mountain

“And when He had taken a cup and given thanks, He gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you; for this is My blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for forgiveness of sins. But I say to you, I will not drink of this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in My Father’s kingdom.” Matthew 26:27-29

“I have an idea!” She said. “Let’s have church on the mountain tomorrow.”

“Excellent!” I said…….”Let’s do it, and we’ll have communion up there too!”

When you are between churches like we are right now, sometimes you have to be creative, leave a little room for the Spirit to work. So this morning, I packed it all together in my camera bag. Cranberry juice and oyster crackers stood in place of the bread and wine.

On the way up the trail, nestled in my bag, I heard them clink together softly and I smiled to myself.

Jesus and I had a secret.

I paused by a Joshua Tree, remembering the words I had read earlier that morning about how they pushed the cruel crown of thorns down on His brow until it bled in rivers down His face. God’s face.

As we got to the top, I paused to let a family come down. Their two little boys were very loud and I was ready for the quiet, for the moment to pause and remember. I waited for E to join me. She had to backtrack because she was talking to a lady hiking with her dog and got side-tracked and missed the turn for Huff and Puff.

We scrambled over rocks and carefully picked our way to the top and I jostled around looking for a flat place to set up. As I presented the heart-shaped doily and stemmed glasses, she laughed. “I should have known!”

Nothing is too good for Jesus, after all.

It was a bit windy, so she held onto the glasses while I aimed for the shot. This was our view.

While they were eating, Jesus took some bread, and after a blessing, He broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is My body.” Matthew 26:26

There on the mountain, we each settled with our elements in hand, having lost only a little a splash of juice and a few crackers that had rolled down the mountain. I didn’t even need to find the verses in my iPhone because the words were already in her heart, and they sprang free, flowing out like rivers of living water as she lifted her glass:

The words come naturally to one whose life has truly been changed. No rehearsal is necessary.

“Do this,” He said. “As a remembrance.”

The lady on the trail had asked if we were sisters. E told her yes, sisters of the best possible kind.

Soul sisters. Kindred spirits. Sisters of the heart. Sisters in Christ.

“For where two or three gather together as my followers,I am there among them.” Matthew 18:20

Hallelujah anyhow moments

I guess it all started last Friday. A disappointing outcome from a phone conversation at work. Something that would have made things a little easier right now.

On the way home I made a side trip to the store. I decided to have a Hallelujah anyhow moment. A little celebration was in order. Because every day is worth celebrating, no matter the circumstance.

I remembered what that great communicator of love, Leo Buscaglia said once in one of his talks. One of his most precious memories growing up was when his Dad came home after he had told his Mom that he had lost his job. His wonderful Mama had whipped up a meal fit for a king, complete with linens on the tablecloth, and the best china at each place setting. They had a party that night. He says it was one of the best evenings they ever had as a family.

Sometimes you just have to say, Hallelujah anyhow.

The next morning I went out to pray. I was hot and sticky and tired of sweating. Miserable mosquito bites I had incurred the night before made it almost impossible to concentrate on praying. Though I was distracted, I noticed gray clouds overhead so I held out hope for maybe something to come out of the sky. I needed time with God. And as I sat there, with my cup of hot goodness, waking me up…..bringing me to life, I heard it. Little pitter patter drops.

My grumbling turned to joy. It occurred to me right then that the best possible thing I could do was go stand in it.

As I felt those silvery drops of Heaven cooling my skin I lifted my hands into the air like an old Native American warrior might have done after a ceremonial rain dance. My prayer became thank you Jesus, thank you Jesus, thank you Jesus.

I love those little surprises from God. So much of life is made up of those mourning to dancing moments.

Later, E and I were coming home from lunch and her car refused to shift to third. We were on the freeway, so with cars whizzing by, we pulled off and went the rest of the way home on the back streets. The transmission fluid didn’t seem low, but she put some in anyway and it actually shifted grudgingly the rest of the way home. It’s been a faithful car but there comes a time when it is no longer economical to keep fixing it. May be time for a new one for her.

Hallelujah anyhow.

Then yesterday morning I went to turn the faucet on in the kitchen at 6:00 AM and found that I had no water. I went out back and saw a river of water gushing out from under the water heater. The whole yard was flooded and the floor under the office was soggy. Thankfully the leak could be seen.

Thank you Jesus.

There we were, lined up at the door of Home Depot with the rest of the folks dealing with one home crisis or another at 6:58. Something like that tends to mess with your peace. I was praying all right, but not the kind I usually do at that time of the morning.

Leak is fixed! Thank you E, my resourceful and talented friend. There is an oh so tiny trickle that will eventually stop. We hope.

After church we headed to Subway and as we coasted into the parking lot, my driver’s side blinker went “kafluey” for lack of a better term. It went out.

There are times when you know better than to ask the Lord, “What next?”

There are times when you feel like the kid in this picture, taking one step forward and three steps back.

Did I mention that Elaine came down with her first cough of the year? And she only started school three weeks ago. On Sunday she had no voice.

Some days it seems like the curses outweigh the blessings. And though we know that it’s not reality, there are times when it feels like it. It’s easy to get our view distorted when things are happening, like life-sized dominoes intent on your destruction. It’s easy to get crushed under the weight of ordinary everyday life.

You want to say, “Don’t you see how hard I am working, Lord?”

But things like this, while frustrating, are fixable.

No one died. No one is sick unto death. We have jobs, we have a roof. And God will provide like He always has in the past. He has never failed and He never will.

So today. I am standing on the promises that I read in my devotional today.

“The Lord is a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble. Those who know your name will put their trust in you, for you, Lord have never forsaken those who seek you.” Psalm 9:9,10

And…….

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not unto your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5,6

All the circumstances we go through in life will pass, but the Lord remains steadfast and immovable. He will never allow the righteous to be shaken………Hallelujah!

Anyhow. No matter what. In every circumstance. Because He is worthy.

photo credit: Bart Hanlon, some rights reserved, creative commons flickr.

Photo/and or photographer has no affiliation or relationship with this website or the contents therein.

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

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

Fearfully and wonderfully made

As I sit in prayer I listen to birds sing the day in and not for the first time I think, they have it right. I pour my coffee and I wonder how many in the world are doing the same thing right now, but they never taste it. They sip but don’t savor and then on to the next thing.

I suppose I am one of the lucky ones. When you have lost suddenly in your life it tends to change your perspective. You know just how fast it can all be gone so you grab each day with both hands, you grab grace because you know it’s because of grace we’re all here at all.

And you also learn how to see and embrace the wonder in each new day. The fact that God is in it is all the reason you need. Just take one aspect of your body, or one aspect of creation. Just think what a symphony of coordination has to happen between your brain and your legs to get up and cross the room. Or for your eye to work properly. How can this not be enough to agree along with the Psalmist that we are FEARFULLY and WONDERFULLY made?

As Margaret Feinberg says so succinctly in her wonder-filled book, Wonderstruck:

God extends endless invitations to encounter him, yet too often we sleep straight through. Unconscious of the life God wants for us, we slumber in the presence of the sacred and snore in the company of the divine. We remain asleep while God roosts in our midst.

Just Saturday, I attended a memorial service for a dear friend’s husband. He was only 6 years older than me. As the pictures flashed on the screen, snippets of his life, it was obvious that he was one of those for whom the world held much wonder, his was a life not wasted. Sad as it was for the ones left behind, they have the comfort of knowing that. And knowing that now, He sits in the presence of wonder we can scarely imagine, at the feet of Jesus. That is the most precious thing we can leave our loved ones.

I want to give others that gift. I want to give God that gift. I want Him to know how grateful I am for every moment He gives me. I think that’s one of the best ways we can honor God and be a blessing to those around us. When we open each other’s eyes to that wonder all around us, we are doing the work of the Kingdom.

Each and every day, God is telling us to look up, look out. Nature is one of the biggests ways He waves His hands to get our attention.

Just now, almost to prove my point, a hummingbird hovers in mid-air, and I see the way he catches the light. That little heart beating at an improbable 1,260 beats per minute I wonder how such a small little creature can teach such a big lesson.

If just we open our eyes long enough to see it.

You have searched me, Lord,
and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue
you, Lord, know it completely.
You hem me in behind and before,
and you lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.

Psalm 139:1-6

When it just flows

Sometimes you hit a sweet spot with blogging, or any kind of writing for that matter. You stop wrestling and trying to figure out what you should write, or what people want to hear, or what you want to hear from yourself. It doesn’t always happen this way, but when it does?

It becomes not something you do, but something you release as a free expression of the worship that naturally flows out of your heart and soul. It’s gratitude and nothing more…..

Just now, I was heading back up the stairs here at work. I had a spring in my step because I am on break and I knew I had an hour or so to do this post. I simply couldn’t wait, not because I have anything of much importance or earth shattering to say, be because I serve a very good God and I am so glad He is walking with me on this earth, because the more I see in the news?

The more hopeless it seems to get. The bleaker the outlook, the more I cling to my God and the more the gratitude spills out. And the more I want to share that with everyone else.

As I spent time with my family just this past week, I learned to cherish them all over again.

When I was unpacking my suitcase last night, I came across the hand drawn map my Dad made me, the directions to the hospital. I couldn’t bear to throw it away. I tucked it into my keepsake box, which is fairly bursting at the seams with each passing year.

Looking at that map, I wondered how in the world I have been so blessed. I have had people drawing maps for me my whole life. At every turn.

And when I took that wrong turn on the freeway just recently? I got a call from Elaine who was watching me via the “Find friends” app on my iPhone. She called to tell me how to get back on but I had already stopped and asked directions.

Friends and family that have your back. When it all comes down to it, that is what matters most. In the hospital room beside my brother there was a man who had no visitors. He was awaiting his heart surgery and he had no company.

He has no hope of any face to greet him when he comes out. No hand to grasp except the medical staff. No loving eyes that meet his, and no one to wipe his brow with a cool cloth. My brother felt so bad he said he might even go visit him afterwards.

Yes, I am extremely grateful these days. For people who love me, and for a loving God who gave me the best road map and the only one I will ever need.

His word and His love.

Where almost everybody knows your name

I have been on a whirlwind trip back home and awash with thoughts and no time to capture them. For a blogger/writer this is almost like looking for a restroom when you really need one and find they are all closed for cleaning. There is no satisfaction until relief comes.

Also, no WIFI stations seemed to work and I think that was exactly what God in His wisdom intended for me and for everyone else.

My brother’s procedure went well. It took four hours for the Catheter Ablation and he came through with flying colors. I think I was helpful and that gives me a sense of satisfaction. There is something about pulling together as a family and making it all work that is good and right. The fruit trees were in bloom and yet we were alll moving so fast there was no time to “stop and smell the roses” or any other kind of flower for that matter, although we did manage to snatch some golden moments along the way.

It’s not too often we all hold hands and pray together, but we did before Dad and Ron left for the hospital.

Later, driving my Mom there I missed a turn and rediscovered how good and helpful strangers can still be when I pulled over to ask directions. I knew I had a local boy because he led me back on the right track and we were never so relieved to see “H” street. I had this proven twice in one day when I took another wrong turn at night and another very nice guy got me back on 50 and then South 99.

I hope God blessed them both for being so helpful.

Later, as we all sat in the waiting room watching old “Maude” reruns from the 1970’s, I asked my Mom if she remembered the long dresses I wore in High School when our singing group gave concerts. She said she didn’t but my Dad piped up and said he did. In fact, he remembered one specific dress I wore with blue puffy sleeves that tied in the back. I was touched by that.

After the hospital ordeal was over, I was doing an errand downtown for Mom and passed a friend walking down the street. I yelled out the window and asked if she needed a ride, and she was dumbfounded to see me. She didn’t know I was in town. That’s another thing that’s nice about small town life, you can still run into people you know everywhere.

The next day I went into the local Bible bookstore and ran into another friend who knew my folks. We had in fact, just been talking about her because she used to live a few doors down. She didn’t have the Newboys CD I was looking for so she actually burned me a copy while we talked.

And of course, there was the joy of seeing a little girl who was turned almost inside out she was so excited to see me. We did all kinds of things together. Saying goodbye is very hard for her, she takes after her Auntie that way, so I just squeezed her tight and told her I would be back very soon.

There is always a flip side to the joy of being there, since it brings to mind all the things I am not there for the rest of the time, yet I am so grateful I have a job that allows me to leave as much as I do, and it makes the time we do have all the more valuable.

I was so touched and grateful for all the prayers via family, friends, email, this blog and Facebook. I humbly thank each and every one of you. And thank you Elaine, for all you did in my absence and for making home a wonderful place to come back to.

I wish this were a longer post, but time is pressing and my break is almost up.

God is good, all the time.

Broken for You

I was rifling through the CD rack when I happened on one from my old church. The one I still miss so much. We caught a golden wave during those years when we worshipped there. It has changed. We have gone back several times and always felt like we were rushed out. It felt like a drive through service. Oh, it was slick and it was smooth and perfect.

No room for the Holy Spirit.

Still, I wasn’t prepared for my own reaction when the first song came on.

One minute I was standing, and the next I was on my knees on the cold laminate floor, hands in the air. With tears streaming, I remembered.

I had forgotten how anointed music sounds, how it affects you. And once again, all those years were back. All those feelings washed over me and something broke apart in my heart. Something inside me broke and I don’t want to be cold and unbroken anymore. I had forgotten how it felt to lose track of time just praising God and it felt……..so……..good.

I remembered how it felt to want to run down in front of the church again, that feeling of surrender.

I remembered how we would lay hands on those around us if they had a need, and how the Spirit felt like waves across the church. Holy……Holy……Holy.

No one should ever leave the church still holding onto a burden, but so often we do just that because we aren’t given the option, or we don’t take it upon ourselves to seek it out.

Yesterday, I needed out of control praise in my own living room. We have had to be too much in control too long, and it was time to let go. I needed the kind of praise I imagine the woman gave Jesus, the one caught in adultery. I imagine how she felt as she waited for the first stone to strike. Wondering how long it would take to die that way.

I imagine her relief as she heard a thud in the dirt instead and then a gentle hand on her shoulder, and an even gentler voice.

I really don’t think as He helped her up she just shook His hand and said, thank you Sir. I think she fell back to the ground and worshipped at His feet. I imagine she slobbered and wiped her tears and clutched at His robe that was dragging in the dust. I have a feeling she cried and prayed loud sobbing wet tears and wiped her nose on the hem of His garment.

And then maybe He helped her up again and smiled and gave her a rag to wipe her nose. And then I think she might have done a crazy dance like King David did all the way home, waving her hands in the air as her heart tasted forgiveness for the very first time.

I did both of those things in my living room yesterday morning, and it felt good. I want this rock inside me to break apart and stay apart. I want to throw the fish in the pan and let it cook itself and stay here forever like Mary, choosing the better part.

I realize we can’t always walk around a broken up mess, but I wonder why I don’t much more often.

Thank you, Lord. Your timing is perfect as usual.

Thankfulness and the poop of life

For the first 15 minutes of prayer this morning my mind just zoomed like those little cars going around a toy racetrack. I remember my Dad and brother snapping those tracks together on Christmas morning, and I can still hear the sound of those little cars that never went quite fast enough without jumping off the little grooves.

After two years of being out in the elements in our Arizona room….yes, it has walls, but they are not made to keep out the cold or heat….Elaine moved herself back into her bedroom on Saturday.

It was a big victory and it surprised me how much better it made me feel. I think I needed it to happen as much as she did. And now that she is back inside, she marvels how she did it out there so long. In the summer she literally slept on ice packs. It was more bearable in winter, but the noise of the freeway kept her awake many nights.

The heating and cooling bill will go down now, since we aren’t keeping that door wide open. I just have to get my cat used to the fact that he doesn’t have free access now, that he has to use the cat door and go around. He made it known he wasn’t happy with that plan this morning by pooping right in the middle of the floor. He may not be able to speak but he can communicate in other ways.

It’s an apt reminder to me that in the midst of daily life, there is always some form of poop to deal with right along with the good stuff. We just have to handle it right.

I realized this morning that I haven’t participated in Ann’s One Thousand Gifts count for a long time. I have kept counting in my heart but not here, so today I measure out my gratitude once again. It won’t ever be enough for a God who has given us everything, but it’s a start.

#957 Elaine having a place of peace, a refuge once more, being able to get a good night’s rest again.

#958 Having the house smell good again. Elaine’s Mom, as most Alzheimer’s patients didn’t like to bathe and it was a battle every time.

#959 No more chinese fire drill at mealtimes, let the reader understand how difficult mealtimes are with Alzheimer’s patients.

#960 Leaving without worrying what Joyce might do at the house to endanger herself.

#961 Being able to make a noise in the kitchen again without her coming out distressed, Alzheimer’s patients find sudden noise disturbing.

#962 Being able to leave mail out again in the open without it being opened or moved.

#963 Knowing she is safe and getting good food in her new place.

#964 That Elaine can work again without the stress of having another full-time job at home.

#965 Being able to go on a vacation or weekend away again, both of us at once.

I pause unbelievingly as I realize we are on the cusp of Lent once again. I head there bringing my tears and my heart on His altar, thankful He no longer requires a living animal, but also knowing that it’s even harder to place my whole heart there. And that’s saying a lot coming from someone who doesn’t even like stepping on ants.

I leave you with two truths today to ponder………

Sometimes a veil of tears allows us to see God clearer. He is near to the brokenhearted.

Sometimes God is the only one Big enough to hold us. He has promised never to leave or forsake us.

Letting the rain speak

I was presented with a gift this morning, it was the pitter patter of rain on my little tin roof. I thought I should give God the respect to stop and listen instead of opening my windbag of prayer requests right away, so I settled back and did just that. Thank you God, for letting me hear You in it this morning. Rain is somewhat of a miraculous thing in the desert. It makes the news. We go outside and gaze at the clouds to see what direction they’re moving to see if we will get more. And Arizona is the only place I have ever experienced the curious phenomena of rain in the front yard and blue skies in the back.

The thought of rain can incite different things when you are in a tent. Fear and dread. Of course the sound of rain on canvas has its own kind of magic, but it’s never a good feeling when you realize you forgot the plastic tarp.

After I thanked God for the gift of the rain, I brought a few before the Throne. For me there is always a readjustment of sorts when I pray, a pulling back, thinking who do I think I am anyway, to enter into that Holy of Holies? Then I remember that when He looks at me He sees me just as I am, but He also sees His Son superimposed in my heart. He tells me that I should come boldly before the Throne, so I do.

Once again I run like a kid into my Daddy’s office where He’s working and though sometimes I think He has every right to shoo me away impatiently He never does. He grabs me……and hugs me, and in His eyes I see nothing but love.

Today in my Bible reading plan, one of the Chapters was Matthew 10. I wondered how it applied to me, here in my comfortable chair, here in my place of peace. I will probably never be flogged in any synagogue, or be brought before any governing authority and be questioned about my faith. I haven’t cured anyone of leprosy lately, or of anything else for that matter.

But this is what I love about Jesus. He spoke to me in those verses anyway. And just when I was feeling like I was less than anyone I read about in Scripture, He assured me that He loves me very much. And as He spoke to my heart, He told me the most important thing I could do here in my corner of the world is to be a conduit for His love, and to not let those things like anger, bitterness, impatience crop up so that the gifts of His Holy Spirit can’t come through.

And He also told me that this little blog can be a perfectly good testimony for Him because in it, I tell others what wonderful things He does in my life, every single day.

Thanks, God. You just have a way of reminding me everyday of just how wonderfully you love me.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. Ephesians 5:22-25

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

Thanksgiving