Itty-Bitty thought

I was viewing pics on facebook...came across my brother's site/soon to be sister-in-law's site and their past weekend. My dad flew up to Seattle so meet Leah. I was looking at the pictures and my thought was, 'when did my dad get that old?'

Underneath some comments were that my dad looks like the guy from House (the main doctor dude.) What are they smoking?! I don't see it at all. LOL.

However, there were several trippy pics.

I hope it's just a sign I'm tired....I mean I saw him at Christmas '08...can he really have changed so much? Ok, so that was nearly a year ago...still...

Itty Bitty blog over. Good Night world. (I.E. Stacy) ;)

Mini-Thoughts--who will go...Come Again?

Ok: time for an installment of random thoughts...
So I was listening to Isaiah 6 recently...and it occurred to me how unexpected God can be. This is not the first time I've thought this, nor will it be the last. ;) There are some constants in life besides death and taxes.

So, maybe my paradigm so clearly shows that I've been raised in the western hemisphere in the 20th-21st century...that yes, Hollywood and all the drama have permeated my perceptions and somewhat set my expectations for certain plots. But then...I think there are more than a few people that would fit this description, thus this blog.

However, let's see if you can see the picture I did. (And this will be a very loose translation, very much a paraphrase...but in true Hollywood stories, let us begin.)

There once was a man named Isaiah. One day shortly after the regent of the realm had died an angel came to him and gave him a vision. He stood before the very thrown of the Most High God. The temple was stunning, in fact, the very train of the King filled the entire temple. Other angels with 6 wings were hovering above the thrown, 2 wings covering the angels' feet, 2 covering their faces...and 2 wings kept the creatures airborne, and they proclaimed how sacred and holy this place was, how amazingly sovereign this King is/was. The very foundations he is standing on shake with the tremor of the King's voice. (Can't you just see the bright lights, the dazzling effects, the sheer immensity of creation before the thrown?) Isaiah feels the contrast deeply, in fact he's very conscientious of the fact he's tracked in some mud, some filth upon his person due to where he lives, who he lives alongside of, what he hears in the streets everyday, things that have crossed his lips and here he is sullying this place. He is definitely out-of-place among the riches, the grandeur, the sheer holiness of this place. So what happens? Does he get kicked out on his keister? Nope.

Instead an angel takes burning coal from the sacrificial altar with some tongs...and flies straight towards him. (I don't know about you, but I'd be thinking punishment...hell, pit fires...burning coals just can't be good? Right?) But we are wrong. The coal burns away all the impurities about our main character, this man in the midst of heaven's glories. Isaiah stands forgiven, absolved of all sins. He stands pure in a pure and holy place.

On the heels of this profound transformation the Lord puts forth a request to the room...'who will go, who will bear a message for me?' Isaiah is filled with a zeal, and practically jumps up shouting 'pick me, pick me, pick me....I'll go...' And here is where my perceptions and paradigms take over. On the crescendo of such an amazing message, and this request, I start to expect the message to be carried will be grand, will be on par with the place and the set up so far...grand temple, grand God, grand transformation...in the background in my head I can hear the producer saying 'cue theme music, let it swell...the hero of the story is to receive his holy quest....'

So what message does Isaiah sign up to carry?

Go and tell the people....


.....pregnant pause....

dramatic effects.....



' to keep on being fools....to keep pretending that they're paying attention....keep being insensitive idiots....blind, deaf, clueless fools! For what could they risk in letting go of their own self-righteous perceptions? Nothing but salvation, nothing but healing, nothing but comprehension.'

Now if it were me, and I have a habit when I'm drastically surprised of speaking before I think, I just know the next words out of my mouth to such a request would have been something along the lines of, "Say what?!! Come again?!!! You want me to go back and tell everyone I know what again? Surely I misheard...you seriously want me to go and tell them they're fools, idiots...etc, et al? Hunh? Now wait a minute..."

I feel somewhat assuaged in Isaiah's response. 'For how long?'

Yes...I too would have felt deflated. Here I am, before the thrown of God, ready to carry a message that will change people the way I've just been changed...and I've volunteered, ready and willing...for....well, this particular memo wasn't what I had in mind when 2 minutes ago I was full of awe, wonder, inspiration....

And the Lord basically tells him to keep repeating it until everything is in ruins.

Where I was prepared for a motivational speech I encounter a God who tells it like it is...who knows the nature of man...until we've run it into the ground, until we've tried absolutely everything we can think of by ourselves....then, we'll be ready to listen...to perhaps consider an idea we didn't come up with under the illusion of our own brilliance....

Wow...He certainly doesn't seem to pull any punches. And, yet.....well....you can't escape the fact that there at the end when we've completely and utterly destroyed things there was that small, tiny, little, bitty, tiny, detail of Him saying, 'when you're ready to listen there will be healing...restoration...salvation.....'

Oh. Ok. So it wasn't what I expected when the story first began to climax.

Another message I recently heard stuck a similar note...and so is worthy to be captured here.
The pastor giving this message...well really the point I'm relating was simply a sub-point within a grander message...but this really struck me.

So that verse many of us, know and quote..."Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28) The Pastor's point was this....do you realize what that really is saying? Cause if I were going to give you a time in my life where you really don't want to know me...well, that would be it---when I'm weary, and tired, and stressed, and burdened...when I'm worn down, worn out, and worn in...this would be the time to say, perhaps meet me next week. I'm not a nice person at that juncture. I'm not receptive, or patient, or anything but burned out. Yet, this is the time when God extends the invitation...come...come burned out, tired, stressed, worn out...when you're impatient, exhausted, moody, snappish, snippy, more willing to hit and ask questions later...

What do you do with a Lord like that? What do you do with a man like that? For those of us blessed enough...well, we may have one or two really close people in our lives who see that side of us....one or two people who accept us as-is, with all the walls down, they see us, accept us, cut us some slack, love us...hear us out, lift us up....listen...and sometimes know from that place that goes deeper than just an intellectual front, but from an experiential one....we call them friends. We call them best friends, or life-long friends, sister/brother of our hearts...

And this is the Lord, that loves you, that wants to know you...not superficially, not as an acquaintance, but as a best friend...a soul's companion...this is our Savior. Come. Be healed. Be purified. Come just as you are. When you are ready, I'll be waiting.

Shake it up--curious music box reflections

So every once and awhile it hits me that I should probably be cleaning up and storing the remnants of my life that are distinctly from childhood, or from my teen years. I’ve cleaned a lot of it, boxed some of it, but there’s still a shelf or two in my room that sometimes stares me in the face, mockingly at times for the simple sentimentality within that refuses to box up all of these little knick knacks, glaring at me that I truly am not the adult I pretend to be.

As a child I would have said I collected fragiles. As an adult I guess I would say I collect memories. I have several music boxes…or windup music apparatuses…some are in globes, one is a box, one is a piano, and one is in a doll. Tonight I took one down from the shelf, wound it up and let my thoughts unwind to the tune.

Truthfully I don’t like the globes so much, the water always seems to disappear over time and the thing in the center of the globe comes up, detaches…and the mystery of the music is hidden...but I cannot throw these away, the music and the memories attached mean more to me than my small annoyance at the globe itself and the unavoidable deterioration. I remember….my second music—let’s call them boxes, it’s easier. So, I remember my second music box very well. It’s a little silver piano, and there was once a lid, like a piano lid, which I’m sure I did box up since I used this box so many times the hinge that kept the piano lid attached has long since broke. Anyway, this piano was a favorite of mine because you could see the device that created this haunting song and I was fascinated by the mechanical simplicity of a few bars passing over bumps on a roller that produced a beautiful song. I would listen to this box for hours, and watch the rise and fall of the little arms under the piano's lid. The music, and the little piano are still a comfort to me, and the funny thing, I couldn’t tell you the name of the song. Since then I’ve received a few more music boxes…and one of these is from my Auntie AJ and is one of my favorite classical songs, Fur Elise. This is the one I took down tonight, wound up and unwound my thoughts from the busy day.

I bring this up because this globe, for it is a globe, has a floral bouquet in it with these glittery flecks. As I sat there, thinking nothing, just listening to the music, remembering the box, my Auntie, and how treasured I felt that my Auntie would purchase this box with one of my favorite songs I found my eyes captivated by the way the light from my lamp, and then candlelight, bounced off and played with the glittery flecks within. The light and the glittery flecks have this iridescent rainbow like interaction. It was beautiful. The flecks within danced and twinkled like fireflies or fairies, the music acting as gentle laughter, from this thoughts surfaced.

Before there was the promise from God to man in the form of rainbows were colors the same? Did the spray of waves in the sunlight have that all too brief moment where all colors existed in the blink of an eye? What did sunsets look like? How about diamonds, did they reflect/refract light like they do today? When God first showed Noah the sign of promise, His bow in the sky, did Noah understand how much the world had changed; did he see beauty or just the end of the rain? At one point did Noah or one of his grandchildren realize how different the world had become just in this simple, quiet array of light and colors? Did they marvel at it as the array of colors winked at them from water droplets, from waves, from the sky, from candlelight through glass, and all the many places these little bursts of color twinkle from? When you read it in the story, it’s just a sign, a reflection of a promise that never again will this world be flooded to the destruction of all life. Yet, there’s so much more in them, to them…beneath the surface, suspended between, hovering, displayed…

And one day, there will be more, more miracles, more changes, and an eternity for us to marvel, to dawning-ly understand the nuances behind the intricate simplicities of heaven, of God, of new life, of a love that surpasses all we know or ever will, of little exquisitenesses like music or twinkling rainbows and it will no longer matter if the awe comes from a child, an adult, or an angel. We will not have to consider packing it up, sucking it up, and trudging on. It won’t be just another day, one more day survived, or muddled through…it will be more…and laughter may be the music, and our memories the weave and shadow between the beautiful light of simple graces, tiny treasures...shake them up, sit back, unwind, relax, laugh, remember, marvel, wonder…

A promise
A hidden depth
A joy
--given to us
--see, remember, rest easy
--to treasure, prismatic paradigm shifts
new

...settle in

Point of No Return

Today I've been feeling sluggish, tired, under the weather and out of it. I limped through a little work but took a sick day instead. It's 7 o'clock and I feel like it's 4 am. But I was slowly reading a book awhile ago, and I do mean slowly.

And on page 407 it hit me, the point of no return. I wish there'd been a sign, as tired as I am I probably would have stopped. But, no, I went along reading on page 406, started to hit the end of the page...and I really should have seen it coming...I mean with the number of books I've read in my life...I really should have clued in.

Instead of careening right on through and flying off the cliff, but I passed it, the point of no return. I must have the end of the story now. 134 more pages, the last book in the trilogy...and my dear friends...I'm not sure I'm going to make it this time. It is a sad, sad thing, but like gravity a little inevitable that I will try...or rather, that I will continue falling through as many pages as I can so hopefully I can R.I.P.

Mini-thoughts

Psalm 16:11

You will make known to me the path of life;
In Your presence is fullness of joy;
In Your right hand there are pleasures forever.

This verse gives me comfort. In the age of GPS, there are still horiscopes, and people searching, looking for a way...Here is the promise, The Lord of Life will help me know how to travel, to traverse the path of life. Where there are questions and crossroads, I will be told how to go...it is up to me to listen. For me, sometimes I need to hear His sarcasm, some days a gentle reverberation, and He always knows which. He is unflustered by my over-emotional rawness, or my weariness, or my anger, or hurt, or frustration, my confusion...my supreme ability to get lost. He has the answer, He knows the way.

The second line, hints at the very truth that He knows without having to be asked what we need, what we are searching for...there He is, ready with an answer. Sometimes I can't even understand the question. Yet, I can rely on Him, trust Him in both the question and the answer.

Lastly, the end...a promise of permanence, a promise of joys completed, of rest, and union. I'm not ready for Monday, I don't want the weekend to end. One day there will be no more ends to choke us up, no dread, no poignant crescendos.

Quieting Moisture

At work they have been stressing appreciation, how a little recognition and thanks can go a long way. They encourage us to send thank you cards to fellow associates that have helped us with a project, or even with just a tiny piece.

The past two days have found me profoundly thankful to God for some of the simple things. A few of these things I could explain and have them understood, while others I can't even explain to myself all that well without rambling.

But it has rained the past two days. Good rain. And I've needed it, and didn't realize how much I needed the soothing storms until the moisture broke free from the clouds and came to quiet my heart. And it isn't a "shhhhhhh be quiet", rather it is a quiet presence that fills my heart and mind as moisture gently brushes me, reminding me of depth beyond words, submerged beneath surfaces.

So, though it feels incredibly inadequate to use words to express my appreciation for something that has given so much more than words can convey, I wish to express my thanks.

Thank you God for knowing me enough to know I would need this before I did...knowing enough to care...and for loving me especially in the little things that make me smile...a rainstorm, good license plates, a successful surgery, massive injury averted/avoided, arriving home safely, the voice of a loved one, laughter, cards, today, your voice, this moment....and I could go on like an Oregon rain, but thank you.

Love

N7

Prismatic

Tribute

My Mom has to be one of the strongest peole I have ever met. No matter what life throws at her she doesn't complain, she does the impossible again and again, she's steady and constant, unflappable, she knows her limits but continues stretching herself, she's independent, and she has a depth that stuns me...she is amazing, but sees herself as ordinary. She's the first to acknowledge her mistakes, she's the first to pick herself back up and try again, she's the first to share laughter/humorous insights.

As I gain more life experience, I stand more and more amazed. As a child she was just my Mom, all that she did, all her excellence was lost on me because I loved her for just being my Mom...I didn't understand the fortitude, courage, aptitude, confidence, ingenuity, resiliency, intelligence, heart and hope, and sheer determination she daily displayed.

Old fables and fairytales captivated my attention, 'once upon a time...'...now, if I can attain even a fraction of the strength and grace she has I will be able to attribute it to a more simple and profound truth; once upon a time I was raised by an incredible woman, who never advertised or sought acclaim, one whose life bore the daily evidence, who loved me, and whose love for me forever shaped me.

I still love her for who she is. She is my Mother. She's my friend. She's my inspiration. She is incredibly amazing. She is so much more than the sum of the pieces, words fail, but she remains.

Te Amo, Always~

Aerial Art & Mental Conundrums

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2xB4UB3CjfU -

video of Rebekah Leah, an aerial artist

danced to a song by Shawn McDonald--"Beautiful"

Lately I’ve been thinking about hope and what it is. I’ve been trying to understand if it is meant to be this bedrock, this ever fixed mark, firm. Or if it something else entirely. Though it is more likely a blend, a weave, a multitude of ideas and truths, because in my study of the Bible, rarely is a concept like hope simply one thing. If there were a conceptual biblical dictionary, hope would have more than one entry, all of them true. This has been an unfolding message in my heart and mind, especially for this 2009 year. And, true to my naïveté, it has been a series of lessons far beyond my ability to have foreseen.

Previously, for me hope has been sort-of synonymous with wishing, or dreaming...as likely to happen as not, easily dashed. Example: I wish/hope for x, y, & z presents for Christmas. I make a list and share with Mom. Christmas morning, under the tree sits boxes and boxes of possibilities, each with a chance to fulfill hopes. Some years x, y, & z were there; other years only x & z, others only y, then there were the years where with all the boxes opened q, b, & l appeared. So some hopes came true, others not, sometimes none of them, and sometimes the none at all turned out to be the best gifts of all. (And, keep in mind this is just an analogy, not a verbatim. Truthfully Christmases are some of my most treasured memories.)

As I got older this idea of hope has seemed more and more flimsy or fragile. Life threw a series of hardships my way and I struggled to insert ‘hope’ into it. By this time, I’d already learned that hope was so much more than positive thinking, or dreaming, or wish-listing. However, it still seemed such a mystery, hard to grasp, hard to decrypt.

Recently (being sometime within the last month), I was listening to a series of sermons on CD, messages from the church that I attend. In one message, one point struck and stuck. And it was this, that sometimes Christians treat grace as if it is a lump sum bequeathed on you (like an allowance), after which you have the ability to spend it; yet, the pastor contended that perhaps it is not, perhaps the reality is that when God promises that His grace will be sufficient it is more immediate, grace for the moment, for the day. The pastor used the story of the bread and manna that appeared to the Israelites during their 40 year trek through the desert. Bread and birds/meat would appear every morning, and each person was only to take what they needed for that day…no back packs or refrigerators, or storage closets to cram full and then dispense out, nope, just what was needed for the day. He then went on to discuss how most of us feel more comfortable with the full closet concept…a huge reserve in the bank that we can budget out as we see fit, that there seems to be a nervousness that creeps in when you only have enough for the day, the hour, the moment. The pastor also spoke to the story in the bible about the famine that was so intense a woman was preparing her last meal with her son, because there was no other food to be had in the entire country…all she had was a little jar, with just a little oil, and a little flour…and a prophet came to stay with her, asking to share her meal. (Do you know this one, where each day this group of 3 use up all the contents of the jar, and the next day they awake to find the jars have been filled—not to capacity, just enough for the day, and it goes on like this for years.) Why then, is it that, he wondered, when the giver of the grace is God are we nervous, anxious, doubtful when we are given only a little (a daily ration) rather than a meat-locker full? Do we fear He’ll run out? Do we fear He’ll forget us? Do we fear He’ll change His mind and leave us high and dry? And doesn’t God deserve the benefit of the doubt?

A leap occurred in my head, from grace to hope. (Not immediate mind you…it’s been several weeks now…possibly even as far back as months). Anyway, last night I felt this hope instilled within me, and it took me by surprise, I wasn’t aware of the process until the end result...very much like the process of instilling (drop by drop), drop by drop might not seem like a lot, contextually though, the end result, has a different effect. The hope was wonderful, a blessed relief from the struggle against depression and despair…but as I sat a little dazed, testing this ‘hope’ out. How far would it go? How long would it last? How fragile was it? It didn’t seem like I’d been handed a mountain, a fixed mark…not a huge lump sum. It was no less real, no less welcomed, no less powerful. So there it was again…the original conundrum…is hope this permanent idea I’m failing to attain, or a fleeting fragility, or something else?

Then the leap…what if hope is like grace? I certainly didn’t earn the hope. I didn’t seek it out. I didn’t deserve it. It was given. It was more than an abundant answer to a question I didn’t even realized I’d asked. Do you ever have those days/weeks/months where it just takes everything you have to survive…that you’ve long since ceased asking for grandiose extras? That is where I was. Head down, surviving. So if hope is more like grace…it will be sufficient…it will be what it needs to be for the time…it then also is a bedrock truth, a constant, infinite. And yes, there are days where what I hope in is solid, unshakable, a proverbial mountain…and even more is the reality that more permeates my daily life: hope can be sufficient for that moment, that day…not meant to be stored up, but used that day. The giver is God. He loves me. I can count on Him. He has goodness in store for me, and He knows my needs, and He knows my dreams. It is enough. Enough…not like my version…where it is just enough to survive, to get by, to eek out…His version is much more. His enough includes grace, hope, and abundance.

Now all that’s left is to trust Him, to receive and rest. And, in the morning His mercies will be new…and there will be manna for the day.


58:11:1—Hebrews 11:1
Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.

19:42:1-2, 5, 11—Psalms 42:1-2 (because they are my favorites), 5, 11 (because the word hope appears..there's a proximity...a pleading/a reminder & it is repeated)
1-2 As the deer pants for the water brooks, so my soul pants for You, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God; When shall I come and appear before my God?

5 Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him for the help of His presence.

11 Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him, the help of His presence.


19:43:5—Psalms
Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him, the help of His presence.

19:130:7—Psalms
O Israel, hope in the Lord; For with the Lord there is lovingkindness, and with Him is abundant redemption

45:5:1-5—Romans
Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have obtained our introduction by faith into this grace in which we stand; and we exult in hope of the glory of God. And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.

51:1:3-5, 22-23, 27—Colossians
3-5 We give thanks to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, praying always for you, since we heard of your faith in Christ Jesus and the love which you have for all the saints; because of the hope laid up for you in heaven, of which you previously heard in the word of truth, the gospel

22-23 yet He has now reconciled you in His fleshly body through death, in order to present you before Him holy and blameless and beyond reproach-- if indeed you continue in the faith firmly established and steadfast, and not moved away from the hope of the gospel that you have heard, which was proclaimed in all creation under heaven, and of which I, Paul, was made a minister.

27 to whom God willed to make known what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.

47:12:9—2 Corinthians

And He has said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness " Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.

25:3:22-24—Lamenations

The LORD'S lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, For His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness. “The LORD is my portion," says my soul, "Therefore I have hope in Him."

Random Silliness

So this is rough, but the title really captures the motif...I was being random and silly and so it seems a bit contradictory for me to polish it. Perhaps on a day when I'm less silly, and less random I will go back and edit...but for now silly, random, and rough is the way I am going to post the poem/short story.







The Pigeon – Evermore

Little Suzanne came home
with puzzlement raised about her
as if she’d forgotten to put her hand down
before leaving school today.

Rather than her boisterous explosion
into the kitchen for her afternoon
attention and cookies
she came in like a zephyr.

The first sally thrown by her loving mother,
usually opened a maelstrom
of insights, stories, and giggles,
today, went unattended.

“Mother, what did the pigeons tell you today?”
Such a startling and peculiar question,
left dear Mother bereft of an answer,
and wondering quite a bit.

Silence talked for moments more,
and Mother found it was her turn
to giggle today instead of Little Suzanne,
next prodding gently for context.

Today, the lesson in school which whisked away
all other attentions, questions, or silly stories,
quite capturing all thoughts
had been about metaphors, similes and poetry.

And though similes looked an awful lot like lots of smiles
the greater meaning took hold
as a dandelion roots into a new lawn
transforming the rest of the day into a quest.

“Yes, you see, there have been pigeons on the playground
for days and days and days and days now,
but rather than coo-ing, or doing whatever it is pigeons do for sound
they have been as quiet as pictures.”

“And the teacher had read about a man
Named Poe who heard a raven speak…
And at lunch today I saw the pigeon I’d decided whose name is Larry,
The same one who always seemed to sit near me on the ledge above the hopscotch, just watching.”

“Today he seemed louder in his vigil,
and surely if he could speak, surely today he would have said, ‘never more.’
And down the ledge from him two more pigeons stood
Breast to breast, beak to beak in noiseless territorial defiance.”

“Odder still was the pigeon who had said goodbye to me today
Staring quite pointedly, like Pappa after he’s said something three times already,
As if I’d been caught not paying attention,
still as a statue, the pigeon sat, a different one than Larry, without fluttering, or shuffling, or bobbing.”

“So on the way home, I thought and thought,
Trying to remember if I had heard Larry say something,
And only forgot…or been preoccupied by the hop-ee-taw
Still I can’t recall, did Larry say nevermore?”

“Then perhaps it is a secret
and the statue bird was warning me not to tell the ravens,
who perhaps are rivals, squaring off,
and pigeons should only utter, ‘ephemeral’.”

“But if your pigeons said nothing to you,
Perhaps then I will wait
And ask Larry tomorrow what it is pigeons should say,
And assure him I can keep his secret, evermore.”

Then bouncing up as light as a feather
Little Suzanne flew across the kitchen
happily gathering her two treats,
ready for her next adventure.

Storm Warnings

June 10, 2009 6:23-9:06 pm

Tonight in Plano Texas the storm clouds gathered and fast as birds on a wire the talk began to pass from mouth to mouth and the twittering began. Tornadoes… I noticed because I’d been watching the clock, gauging time, working on the reports needed for work but also knowing I’d have to pause to meet a friend for our weekly scheduled walk. I was just about to save the work and stop, get ready for the walk when the text came in asking if I was watching the news.

My immediate response was, interal sigh and mental shaking of head along wit the mental mutter, 'eventually she’ll learn I don’t ever watch the news unless someone calls to tell me to turn it on, so no I am not watching, nor have I been watching the news.' I simply told her, 'nope, why what's up?' Apparently there was a major tornado watch set for our area and our weekly walk would be better left postponed. We exchanged our weekly banter about work stress, usually our first fifteen minutes of walk time in a more condensed fashion. Eight minutes later we were off the phone. I decided to take my trash to the garbage before the water started pouring down as I closed my call. Descending the stairs the clouds started turning green and flying in fast as if air traffic control had given them clearance to land. It wasn’t touchdown yet, but as if the reckless cloud pilots had decided to buzz the tower as if doing a Maverick impression from TopGun.

Thunder clapped and water flew, lightning zigging around--not about to be left out of the party. Neighbors started pouring out of their apartments as if discombobulated by the disruption to their regularly scheduled programming and blinking to notice the other inhabitants of the shared space become more than just theoretical constructs. What used to be a common place occurrence, neighbors interacting becomes part of the pizzazz of the storms.

I stopped to watch and found myself exclaiming at the power of nature, how awesome and forceful. Then a gentle thought whispered in, if this is the mighty and fierce storm…which could very well get angrier as the newsmen are heralding…can you imagine what it would be like to stand in the face of the wrath of God. I know it’s talked about in churches, and it is flashed across the Old Testament just as rapid fire frequent as the newsman is urging us to heed the storm warnings. It is spoken of, or should be, when people talk about the cross and the sacrifice, the atonement that was made. Christ who appeased the wrath of God for us, who rightly should be answering up to our sins with no hope to repay or rectify.

“In our place, Jesus died, the wrath of God was satisfied…nail pierced hands, bleeding side, in my place Jesus died. Hallelujah what a Savior, Hallelujah what a Savior, my God crucified, Hallelujah what a Savior”, was part of the chorus that was sung on Sunday, that is now playing in my head…no need for electrical power here…to hear and replay a song that brought everyday people into the heart of worship. Yes, the amazingly good news of the gospel is that as helpless and hopeless as we were before the wrath of God, with blood on our hands and sin staining our souls, Jesus came and answered for us instead, atoning for the wrongs when His soul stood spotless before the Father, before our God. He died in our place; He died to restore us, to offer back to us life, hope, healing, and a home with the Eternal Father…with the mighty God.

The gravity of sin strikes me yet again tonight. Jesus has long been my only hope…my ONLY hope…but tonight as I sat powerless before the storm that descended, helpless to do anything against a coming storm, an impending tornado thinking about the absoluteness of such destruction that is possible…we’ve all seen the pictures, some of us have heard the stories from the victims mouths personally…and others have even lost all they owned, and yes, even loved ones to the might of an angry storm. Here we are in the most technology driven age, with impressive science and engineering often at our fingertips, holding it in our hands to transcend physical distances and do so very much….still nature stands uncontested in power and might, force and strength. We can but watch, measure, and track what it can do, not harness it. We all have no answer that would be sufficient enough to tell a forming cloud structure that this really isn’t the best time, most convenient, or desired thing to loose my house, my car, and to suffer the anxiety, fear and loss such destruction as a tornado touching down could do. None of us have the answer that would halt a tsunami, or quiet an eight point anything earthquake. No these forces of nature that seem so bent on destruction, so committed to their paths, their courses do not stop first to listen to whatever we would say. They come. We feel the wrath.

So, what would it like to stand before the wrath of God? Not a comforting thought, tornadoes, lightning, tsunamis…earthquakes, hurricanes…powerful forces indeed, no question. The wrath of God…not a comfortable topic to hear, to think about, to answer to. I cannot imagine, my mind can barely grasp the force of a tornado. I’m just coming to grips that the last hour or two of work I tapped out into my trusty keyboard may have been lost at the decent of a stream of light, and the bowing power loss. The sirens that blared their way into my otherwise quite normal night seemed to happen after the fact, not with advance warning, patiently waiting for me to be ready to lose power.

The return of Christ, similarly, will come unexpectedly, not when we’ve fixed ourselves, or prepared our speeches, reasons, and justifications. On some normal night, or day, in the midst of work, or a weekend He will come. Tonight as I consider how much more forceful and how much more intense the wrath of God could be and is in comparison to the storm still hovering and playing out above me…I remember the amazing grace available to us all. Jesus who is our only hope, and only answer before the wrath of God…who is the SHELTER for the storm, who offers us the protection we cannot give ourselves, and cannot prepare in advance, or even after the fact…He is, we are…and the sin stands…the wrath of God or the grace of God…it is our choice. The amazing grace is that fully justified in His wrath, God saves. He chooses to save. He not only desires it, He did it, He did what we could not, answered where we would not have the words required…He waits for us to respond to all that He has done…What a Savior!

Tonight as the storm raged and my feeble prayer went up to have shelter from the storm …as I watched the impressive force of nature, beginning to realize how much more was at stake than just a few hours of work…just beginning to be impressed on with the reality of something I’m powerless to stop, or change…and the dawning impression that echoed the dawn like pink and green clouds lit from within when the sun had long since set of how much more incredible it would be to stand, unsheltered and unprepared for the wrath of God and what that might look like…and this peace that held me buffeted like the swirling breeze I don’t have to have an answer, I won’t have to face the wrath of God…it was done for me. I am saved. To sit back and watch the storm play out, to rest knowing that no matter what storms in life I face…no matter what comes into my life or what is taken from it…I am covered by the might love and grace of God.

No matter what…I did before, have done since, will do…all of my sin is atoned for. The wrath of God is satisfied…met, absorbed for me…the cross, the crucifixion…”Jesus paid it all, all to Him I owe…sin had left a crimson stain, He washed me white as snow” (another hymn).

There is no amount of thanks I could utter to cover the great swell of relief I feel to know my sin is paid for…my Shelter in the storm is Jesus…who knows it all, and is not unprepared, unready or surprised by the storms I face, the forces I feel, or the weight of glory and the wrath of God which all demanded an answer…and I have one. There is no excuse or explanation, nothing I could say that would alter or justify…I have no defense, save one…no refuge, save one…no shelter, save one.

My hope is that for any that might read my storm inspired contemplations is that they too might realize and have the harbor for the storms of life, the shelter from the wrath of God…that they would have and know Jesus…the mighty Savior. Let Him be your answer, let Him be your refuge, your harbor, your hope. Seek Him while there's time...seek Him while there's time, don't wait for the siren to blare. Seek and you shall be found; seek and you will find....so much more....

God Bless.

List of 5...and a Pizza

So I had an interesting conversation on 4/19, I wrote about it with the intention to get online and post it soon.... Anyway, this theme kept coming up in one way or another so while time has passed here are the thoughts I wrote down.

One of the churches I attend has chosen to focus on the simple quandary ‘what if you only had one month to live…’ and I missed today’s lesson. I was talking to someone who attended and it seems the challenge was thrown out to assemble a list of 5 things you would do if you only had one month left and do one of them. My friend asked, so what would your 5 be?

Hmmm…good question. What would my 5 be? There are many things I have hoped for and want in/from life and many things I continue to hope for. But bottom line…if I only had a month left…what would be on that list?

1. Cash in my 401k and pay my debts, set aside money for the funeral and shipping costs for stuff I’d like to go to certain people. Make it easy for the people who have to deal with my body and the disposition of my stuff.

2. Write a letter to my Mom, my brothers, my Dad and a couple of my really special friends and tell them what they meant to me, how much I loved them…and that though they may grieve now, that I want them to know I’m ok, in fact I’m better than ok because I KNOW I’ll be with my Savior, I will have finally shed the brokenness of life and all the hurt that comes from it. I will ask them to really think about this, to examine the peace I am writing from because of my certainty and look within themselves to see if they have it. If they don’t I would urge them to give Jesus a chance, give a relationship with Him a chance….not give ‘religion’ a chance….religion won’t save them, Jesus can. He has saved me. He loves them, He loved me, and it made all the difference in the world when I accepted that love.
3. …..

And I then ran out of things to list. A month isn’t that much time. I would not have the time to find the love of my life, marry him, and have a child….so Wife and Mother as dreams and hopes go…is out. While going to England, Italy, Switzerland, Australia and New Zealand would be nice…a month isn’t enough time, and it would create more debt, a debt I’m not sure my 401k could cover in addition to the debt I already have. But it’s ok, if I had to leave this life without seeing these places, places I’ve dreamt about since I first realized the globe and all the blobs on them represented new worlds, new adventures and different places…..I could. I continued to think about it….hence the blog… ;)

What else is left? After further thought, here’s what else I would do:

3. I would empty my closets and dressers of all clothes…minus one week’s worth of outfits.
4. I would empty out the storage unit I have attached to my apartment, dumping all boxes and stuff I save so the next time I move I have less to hunt down.
5. I would get rid of all the memory things/mementos I’ve kept that really only have meaning for me. I would save a couple to pass along with my letters but really the bulk of it is stuff that would not mean anything to anyone…and to the grieving and left behind the bulk of papers that have to be sorted out can sometimes be a heart wrenching burden. So, to the shredder and garbage they would go. (I would make sure I had Kleenex in stock for this venture.)
6. I would donate my books along with my clothes.
7. I would make sure that I left clear instructions behind…donate as many of my organs that are viable out to the people waiting on lists to live. I want to be cremated; ashes can go wherever my loved ones want them to. You can put them in the ocean, drop them from a mountain top on a windy day, you can keep them, or let them go….if you really want you can buy a funeral plot---but I don’t require it, nor would I ask that of others…but I understand that some people need that, so I would defer to that person to decide.
8. I would quit worrying about my weight…how overweight I am, how skinny (or thinner) I want to be.
9. I would quit worrying about the eye sight and the eye docs last foreboding words….and I would not fill the prescription.
10. I would quit worrying about my chest and how little there is of it…and 86 this concept the world foists upon us that says to be beautiful you must be busty, thin, and blonde. It won’t matter in a month, so who cares. I’m beautiful as I am in this moment. Life is a gift, not a bra size.
11. I would quit my job. I like it and all, but if I only have a month left, I would not spend it at work.
12. I would try and figure out what to do about the story I was writing…to write or not to write…
13. I would try and finish the quilt I saw in a book once that really made me want to be a quilter, to make it beautiful…
14. I would try and put fun presents together to send to the people I love. Some of the things would be things I have around the house that remind me of them, others would be things I want them to have….I would buy the things I knew they wanted or needed. But mostly it would be to give them the things I have that I would not need anymore. For example, I have at least 4 quilt’s worth of fabric in a dresser…potential beautiful quilts and I would send them to the person who would most appreciate it. Another example…I have beautiful china that I LOVE…that I enjoy, and cherish…I would send it to the person/persons who would most enjoy it after I was gone. I might keep 2 settings to eat from for the month I have left. I have goblets…and they mean something to me too…I would probably send one to each of the people I love most so they could use it, smile, and think of me. I have a friend who is a writer, and her laptop is dying…I would give her the one I just purchased and the printer too. I would give my car away. I would give as much of my furniture away…I would find a home for the plants that I love that I finally have been able to grow (it may seem like a simple thing, but I’ve really been challenged in the botany arena it would seem such a shame for me to have finally achieved this miraculous skill of keeping two plants alive to have them die too…so I would find a way to get them to my dear friend who is so gifted in this arena, who believed it was possible for me to keep plants and not kill them…I think they would bring her joy, so I would give them to her.)
15. I would assemble all the important docs and stuff and such and have them ready.
16. I would still sing along to the songs I love.
17. I would still take pictures of the beauty of the sunsets and of this world.
18. I would still go to church, read my Bible…thank God, praise Him for this life, and what He has given me, what He means to me.
19. I would still tell people I loved them, call them to ‘chat’, listen to their lives and the challenges they face, encourage them where I could, laugh with them, and if needed cry with them. I would not make it a huge production that I was to die, nor make every conversation consumed by that.
20. I would still hug people. I would face the truth that I wouldn’t have time to hug all the people I would want to before the end, but that these people would know how much I loved them in life, and that would not change. These are the people who’ve made a lie of the adage that ‘long distance relationships don’t work’.
21. I would still put out bird seeds on my apartment patio for the neighborhood birds.
22. I would still dance in the rain…I would pray for a good storm before it was my time and go out and get thoroughly and completely drenched…to enjoy it to the fullest, raise my hands, spin, and laugh.
23. I would get a full set of nails towards the end, and a nice hair cut…
24. I would buy a bouquet of flowers a week; maybe even two full bouquets, fill my apartment with their fragrant beauty, and enjoy them. I would buy my favorites and indulge myself.
25. I would keep my art until the very end because not having art on my walls would drive me crazy. I would make sure I knew if certain people liked certain pieces of mine over the course of the 30 days, mark it down and then on the last day I would send them only this time I would send them the slow way, not 2 day special delivery. (I usually can’t wait longer than 2 days when it comes to giving people presents…I enjoy it too much. This time it would be different.)
26. I still would take walks in nature, to enjoy the glory of God’s creation.
27. I would see if there was a place near-by to go white water rafting one more time. I would get out at the place they generally always stop at to let people jump in, and I would jump in and swim, and laugh, and enjoy the ride. =>(I probably would forget about reapplying the sun-block…because I generally do forget…and would have a slight to moderate sunburn somewhere…so maybe I should do this first =>)
28. I would throw a HUGE party because I would not have to EVER go see another dentist or doctor ever again!!!!! I would cry for the relief of that joy. I would not have to have ICKY medicine or the experience intense fear and pain that is so irrational and that makes me feel so isolated and alone. This is definitely an occasion to break out the china and C-E-L-E-B-R-A-T-E!!!! Doctors are only slightly better than death, and death is slightly better than Dentist visits. :) Hllelujah!!! I would be free and free indeed!
29. I would still dance with air in my apartment…especially since after donating much of my furniture I would have a lot of space. :)
30. I would still dream and pray and laugh and cry, right up to the end. :)

But after all this heavy thinking I realized one thing, none of us know how much time we have and that my Mom is right, "every day is special". Then I ordered a pizza.

Bake Sales and Rainstorms

Tonight as I write, God has sent a rainstorm to pace my words to the page, to touch my heart, my mind, my soul with the miracle, the common place miracle, of a rain storm. What a gift, and WHAT a Savior.

Where can I start a blog that has been simmering inside for more than a good long week? It’s hard to unpack something I kept jamming more stuff into….kind of like a closet, from when you were a teen and cleaning your room meant finding a convenient and quick location for everything, of course you’d go back and really clean later…only to find that later finds you risking life and limb and death by falling objects…hmmm…how’d that happen?

First and foremost is the thought that God is really, really GOOD. Pure and simple, holy and true, faithful and loving, just and merciful…what an AWESOME Savior we all have. Second, I love the new church He has led me to. Some are aware and some may not be aware of my struggles with the church I’ve been in since day two of crossing the Texas line in 2006. However little or much you might know, or not know, all you really need to know is that if only to find this place, I would count it all worth it.

Of course, that isn’t the only good thing that has happened, and I don’t want to make it sound like it was a prison sentence to be carried out to be at the church I’m referring to. But still…the place I go to now I find like a soothing balm, an old friend, a new hope all rolled into one. I missed it, and have found it all in one. I still plan to finish what I started in 2006 but it is easier now, my soul is being fed, and I’m completely addicted. =>
Now, my housekeeping seems to be more or less taken care of and the real work of allowing my thoughts and experiences that have been held back freedom to be, space to exist and words to connect the pieces like anchors to reality…..simple enough, right?

Where did the closet stuffing begin? Probably about two months ago. And some of it I can point to, the bulky easy stuff…some of it is more subtle, harder to catch like a tree root’s daily growth –something measureable over time but harder to see in an hour by hour, day by day event. Two months ago I received a promotion at work and yes it was nice, and good, and a burden relieved…especially in this economy. I knew going in there were challenges, and it would be a huge amount of work and information. I wasn’t wrong. Things I hadn’t even thought about…working for someone new when I had a really good relationship with my previous bosses; when each manager I’d met was further confirmation of a previously held belief (the good manager’s all hide out in one or two companies, leaving the rest of the corporate world to hold up without them, and thus contribute to the image most people think of when they hear those words, Corporate America.) I’d survived my previous exposure to the houses without real leaders, and jadedly was beginning to believe the idea of a good manager was more mythical than Santa Clause. Then I came to work at the Bank.

From the very first, the managers I’d met were unlike any I’d ever encountered before. Could it be? I’d traveled to another dimension? Was I finally glimpsing Pegasus? I didn’t hold my breath. But I did hold back, testing the ground beneath me, expecting it to shift at any moment. It didn’t. Nine months later I’d been promoted. I was eager to meet my new manager, sad to leave my old one, but I didn’t fear it, I didn’t even bat an eye, and I was encouraged and uplifted, and applauded by my old one who knew this would be a good opportunity for me. So on…and up I went.

Plunge! It’s a good thing I’m optimistic…I have some cushion as it were between me and the impact. I reminded myself to keep breathing, and to…keep repeating that process…WOW. It was dizzying. And it took me a couple weeks to really define the biggest shift, that felt very seismic…and my instincts kept darting to the nearest doorway wanting to dodge falling objects. But truthfully I’ve been in places before where it was required, hence the instinct speaking before my brain could articulate why the adrenaline was propelling me out of my chair. And, I’ve definitely been in worse. This was not worse. So what gives? What was I responding to? And, what am I going to do about it?

These are just a few of the questions that I’ve been pondering lately. But they are kind of background. Well, perhaps the boulders and the roots slip slide and take turns at being the background and the foreground. And through this all life has been changing rapidly not just for me but for my friends and family too. I of course have the privilege and honor of being peripherally upswept in theirs too. (Granted, some more than others, but still, the music played, I danced.)

Some of those songs played like a Monet’s watercolor; others like Van Gogh’s vivid realities all stippled and layered. One of these is Cedar. (And my best friend has heard all lot of vague ramblings and aches in this area.) However, the impression has been so strong, beating beneath my heart, cramping like an amputee’s limb, recently removed. It aches, it’s there, and yet, it isn’t. I cannot express nor explain why it has been so intense of late; this is an old ache for me, I’ve had it for years. I tried to date it, and justifiably at least since I was sixteen, but if you could have asked my six year old self I would have been confident and totally assured. But of course! (Thus my thinking that cartoons all had it wrong…where was Daffy’s wife? Bug’s had a couple times where you saw a girl bunny…but it was an epidemic…categorically there was always one without the other, and they should have all been pairs. Duh!) You’d think then, this weight would be something I’m accustomed to.

But I feel like I’ve been jarred from sleep, in the middle of the night; reached for a phone piercing the night, to hear incoherent sorrow conveying tragedy, hurt…in a garbled mix of facts that don’t add up. The conversation is short. The impression lasts and lasts, until you can see for yourself, until you are standing by the hospital bedside.

Compounding this impression is Rip Van Winkle gift, suddenly walking down your street this week, in the guise of an old friend, come to call, catch up on the intervening years. You pull out a chair; break out cookies, hot cocoa, and prop your elbow on the table in order to listen to your long lost buddy pour out their sorrows, their troubles. Then you awake. (And not on your kitchen table, as expected, but in your own bed.) You stumble outside, and you find the impression in the grass from where Rip reposed for so long, but no sign of Mr. Van Winkle. You question yourself all the way home, did it really happen, and if it did, what are you going to do about it? Agony like awaking to find all life as you knew it long gone, a reality Mr. Van Winkle heart wrenching now lived, a state clearly not something you could just walk away from, ignore. You check your cupboards, and all the cookies are gone; there are mugs in the sink, two of them. How long has it been? Where did he go? How can you help? Was it real? Was it a dream?

I have also missed my characters, my stories, my writing. Oh yeah, and slip in a doctor’s visit, where the pronouncement placed me at a crossroads of faith and blindness. Why is that such a lonely place? Why does that terrify? Why does the ‘preventative halting’ seem the wrong way to go? Why are blue eyes so shattering hard to lose/alter/risk?

A friend, Muke, died from Cancer 3-23-09. Unlike the description above, it happened simply, in the middle of the work week, on a Wednesday, while checking some voice mails I found the voice of a friend calmly telling me the story was on the news, and I should know. Quietly offereing solace, with unwasted words, and an offer to the one we both know would be more affected by the passing. I sent both prayers and some flowers. Life moved on. Ready or not...

The church dilemma was eating away at me as well, as mentioned. I found a new one, a haven, but did I dare believe it could be…after so long….

Into the silence of two months of absence I receive an email from my old class, and in it the teacher writes, among other things this profound quote capturing so much of what I was searching to say, what I knew and it felt wonderful to know someone else out there understood, what I still struggle to articulate.

"Sometimes in the Christian life, God's silence may be deafening. A believer may pray for weeks, months, or even years for something without receiving a definite answer from God." (Encouraging, huh?!?) "There are many reasons why God may not answer one's prayer and some of these have no relationship at all to the presence or absence of sin in one's life. Sometimes it may only be a matter of timing. God may intend to give the believer what is requested, but not until later when it better fits into God's plan and program for that believer. In the interim, it is important that one continues in faith and not allow doubt to unconsciously replace belief." Elmer Towns

Isaiah 55:8-9
For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways, declares the LORD. For as the Heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.

Throw in another dream, so real, so intense, so….long….since its predecessors journeyed into my heart. 16, 18, 19...from a quiet sleeper, undisturbed mornings, untroubled by the state of inertia how unusual to suddenly have two so close together. Yet this one…like the ones that came before so gentle, so…natural, the cadence, the flow, the message conveyed. So why is it so fracturing, a pull between my faith and my fear. This is my life story. If nothing else, a nice respite, something I’m holding close to my heart like a plush fluffy oversized teddy bear, or bunny. It speaks of gentle love and miracles. Whether I can bring myself to believe yet doesn't alter how comforting it feels to hold the ideas.



I made it back this week to church. What should I hear on Sunday, adding to what I have listed above, capturing my attention like water to a desert traveler?

(There was a lot more to the sermon, but truthfully and atypically, this is all I remember with clarity.)

“Miracles are not meant to be a reference point in your past. They aren’t just another event that happened in a string of other events. Miracles are to be tutors to our life, helping us to understand the truth of the real reality, one so profound and deep, and altering life as we know it is changed, wholly, markedly. Like, Neo’s understanding of the miracle of the Matrix allowed him to dodge bullets, to see them in snapshot like moments, and to bend himself around them, or pluck them from the air. This understanding was a radical transformation of who he was in the reality, and the reality of what was possible.”

“Do you remember the story of a mustard seed and a mountain? Have you ever really thought of the truth, the practical aspect of what it means? Have you been trying to move hunks of rock and nothing is happening? A mustard seed sized faith can move a mountain of fear, a mountain of unbelief.”

A Psalmist’s plea, “create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me,” 51:10
An Apostle’s promise, “And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Cor. 12:9-10

“So ask God for a new heart, hold miracles for what they are, seek that reality, of a loving God teaching you the truth and your relationship to it, continue to broaden your horizons, your perceptions, your faith…admit when you are weak, when it is tough, go to your Lord, who is fully present, fully engaged, and fully ready to be your strength, then live in that strong reality.”

Later that day, I reward myself with a trip to my new haven. The last three weeks have been so gripping, so convicting, so refreshing. I entered the building again, ready for the next installment, to have the ‘shock therapy’ nourish my soul. As I approached the sanctuary there were tables along the walls with dishes evenly spaced upon them. My first thought, ‘bake sale’, quickly followed by ‘I wonder if they have…’, and ‘I probably shouldn’t even if they do….’ Within a few more steps I realized what they truly were. Communion. Tonight’s service would be a communion service. Simultaneous responses careened within me.

First, a sorrow that over the course of the last couple years, my faith walks was more likely to be alerted in autopilot by the idea of a bake sale…to revive an otherwise placid situation of constructed scripts and responses.

Secondly, and lastly, and more strongly, a relief so great it washed over me like a monsoon, gratitude pouring down right alongside humble relief. How long, oh how long….still as I took my seat I expected another gripping, let’s be real, and really talk about this idea of journeying with God, sermon. Another unexpected present awaited me. Today they were doing baptisms, even in a 7 o’clock service….



I settled in. I like baptisms, they move me, and mean more to me as I grow older. (And they are a major part of the other church too.) It wasn’t until the first one began that I realized the difference, how ‘bake sale’ my concept of baptisms had become recently. No, this baptism service was a blessed communion. It was the service, it was the sermon. The only piece the Pastor offered was the actual communion offering the sacred reminder, of what it meant and what it stood for and how Jesus in today’s terms would have bluntly summed it up as: “Don’t forget! Don’t you dare forget!” Words that would have been spoken with a passionate tenderness, from a loving heart, not in the tone so many assume would be filled with judgment. NO, His tone would have been filled with all the love He had in His heart, a vivid reminder, a last benediction...one that would resemble your dieing Mother or Father's last words/words you would always remember because of who they came from and the love they had bestowed upon you all of your life. 'Don't forget, my darling, my beloved, don't forget...' Don’t forget the truth, the reality, the NEW reality, the NEW hope, the newness of a sinless Savior freely surrendering His very life for sinners' who had no clue, who needed Him so much. Accepting all sins as His, in our place, for all time…..this is HIS body, broken for you…this is HIS blood poured out for you. Don’t forget. It’s as simple as that.



It is as profound as the difference between a bake sale and a communion.

Mini-thoughts

Genesis 12:11-16

Abram was 75+ when he convinced his wife, Sarai, to lie and say she was his sister. He declared her too beautiful, he was firmly convinced that men would kill him because of her...to him it was obvious.

Now I know they lived a lot longer then, but somehow today that thought caught me. He was still madly in love with his wife, still captivated by her beauty...and it had to have been built on so much more than her looks by this point; they'd built a life together, had hardships, disappointments, joys, they'd left all they'd known, were headed into the sunset so-to-speak, yet were still young, still so much more than meets the eye...and he was convinced other men, kings even, would kill to have her...that's how he saw her...she was a beautiful woman...

Lists...expanded

I swung by my friend's blog and found a list there waiting for me. Sometimes you are surprised by the little known facts...sometimes not, sometimes you just revisit good memories.

So here you go--

Rules are: Anything you have done has to be in bold. How many have you done?
Also, I put an * by the ones that I plan to do, or plan to do again...
Add one or two original ones at the bottom... :)
(108-110 were expanded on by a friend and I'm capturing them here.)


1. Started your own blog. *
2. Slept under the stars *
3. Played in a band (& I signed for one...)
4. Visited Hawaii *
5. Watched a meteor shower *
6. Given more than you can afford to charity *
7. Been to Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain *
9. Held a Praying Mantis
10. Sang a solo (not counting in the car, in the shower, or other solitary places...like in front of others....well, then no.... ;>)
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris*
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea* (well I have watched a lighting storm on the beach of a sea, but that isn't quite the same.)
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child*
16. Had food poisoning
17. Been to the Statue of Liberty*
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France *
20. Slept on an train
21. Had a pillow fight *
22. Hitch hiked (I wasn't picked up.)
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon (I've walked in one...)
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice*
29. Seen a total eclipse*
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset *
31. Hit a Home run
32. Been on a cruise (HATED it...save your money, go on a real trip...trust me, you'll be happier and have better memories, the only redeeming part was I was with my family.)
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person*
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community*
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied *
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person**
39. Gone rock climbing (I've climbed over rocks, and climbed up them, but not in the fashion that is meant by the term 'rock climbing'...lol)
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David***
41. Sung karaoke.
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant*
44. Visited Africa* (if only for the gorillas)
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight. **
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted *
48. Gone deep sea fishing.
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person*
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris *
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling.
52. Kissed in the rain ***
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater. *
55. Been in a movie.
56. Visited the Great Wall of China***
57. Started a business.
58. Taken a martial arts class***
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen *
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching**
63. Got flowers for no reason. ***
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma*
65. Gone sky diving (possibly a *)
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp**
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial.***
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Tied a quilt *
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades**
75. Been fired from a job (not fired, just asked to leave when I wouldn't toss my moral code out a window)
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London*
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person. (a la Chevy Chase...would love to go back and see it for real, do the hike and the glass walkway....sigh) **
80. Published a book****
81. Visited the Vatican*
82. Bought a brand new car (possibly a *)
83. Walked in Jerusalem.***
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible*******
86. Visited the White House*
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life (it felt like it at the time, but all I really did was prevent big injuries...)
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous*
92. Joined a book club *
93. Lost a loved one (well you don't plan to do this one, it happens, so this one by default will occur again, just a matter of when...)
94. Had a baby**(not yet, but I have faith and hope)
95. Seen the Alamo in person*
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone *
99. Been stung by a bee
100. Visited Italy. ***
101: Attacked by Gypsies, tramps, or thieves
102: Been in a plane crash while a man confessed his sins across the aisle from you :)
103: Heard a gorilla laugh. *
104: Written something original (a poem, a song, a story, a devotional, a speech)*
105: Been so slappy happy tired you laugh for 15 minutes at something as innocuous as a Wal-Mart...or being lost. *
106: Been lost in the beauty of the world. ***
107: Danced in the rain ***
108: Slept in a Romanian Barn
109: Sat in the chair and held the pen that Milton used for Paradise Lost
110: Married the best man in the world (yes, I know it is a matter of opinion :) * (Cedar--sigh)

---->>Tag your it.... :P

Woah...

Woah...

I just have to take the moment and say how radical life changes can be. How they seem to surprise us, jump out from behind the bushes...catch us off guard from time to time.

I recently received a job promotion, at a company I've only worked at for 8 months. And I was flattered and stunned and happy, but this was not my woah...for you see there is also the intrepediation of doing good, the unknown of what will come and what I'll be doing, and also the good-byes to the teams I've worked with for 8 months...the ones I've just begun to settle into...

The raise they offered was also stunning...it is my first real raise instead of the five cents here, the quarter if you were really good that has been all I've known thus far. I can't really wrap my head around this one either. So this is not my woah....I am humbled and grateful, and yet, still I cannot fathom anything more than the day to day survival that has been my current path since...ok well since I realized growing up meant having to pay for things too...lots, and lots of things...and yes, Mom, money does NOT grow on trees, I'm sorry I rolled my eyes at you.

No, the Woah happens when I looked back at last year in comparison to this moment. But it wasn't like I had a grand plan, to review my life, the course. No, when the thought first came into my head it was admidst something simple. I was really in the middle of a conversation with one of my best friend's a few hours after I found all this out. I was in the middle of a sentence, trying to really let it seep into my head...

a promotion
this economy
a promotion
for me
a promotion
because...
I earned it
how
eight months
I still don't really understand it all
many worthy people
a promotion
my promotion
two weeks
new stuff to do
two weeks
new boss
because there's a promotion
and I was chosen..
.....

and so on...as you can see my thought process wasn't high or lofty, it was staggering and choppy. And I was moderately successful at turning this choppy looping pattern into non-repetitive sentences and discoursing with my friend. So, there I was, mid-sentence, mid-thought when I was jolted by this juxtaposition.

Last year, on this exact day:
I was surviving on credit cards
I had topped out at yet another company that treated people horribly
where outside of work you might have thought your boss was a nice person
...until you had to work for them
you had to FORCE yourself to clock it
to endure the 9 hours, and somehow even the 1 hour lunch didn't count as being off...
I was working retail, so I had no set schedule, no weekends, no holidays
I was searching for a job, but prospects were rare and remote
I was completely hands tied, barely getting by
I'd finally had to admit to myself that I was sick, really sick like as in I can no longer deny it I have to find a doctor sick....
to find out I had an eye virus that may make me blind...come back in a month after you swallow some cough syrup...we'll know more then...
struggling with my circumstances...
not to mention a host of other complications and heart aches that were happening...

My mind reeled...tail spin, head rush...WOAH...

And here I am today...in such a drastically different place my logical mind insists that more time should have passed...incredibly it can't be just a year...and yet there's one thing I wanted to share with everyone, one emotion that supercedes the Woah...and all the rest....

I am incredibly happy to DECLARE that how I got from there to here, well, it wasn't a magic formula, it wasn't some philosophy that could align to a self-help book for the masses that fades faster than the latest diet fad...it is not something I can take credit for. Yes, you read that right...I cannot take credit.

I recognize my part in the pieces, the segmented journey that can be plotted on a time line, with the line stemming down to list a place on the overall map. I recognize I did work hard when I got to the new job, so I am not trying to dimminish that. But really, the whole, the grandness of it...not, me.

God.

He alone wrought the changes in such a fashion, orchestrated the symphonic whole that can lead you like a beautiful melody from there to here. If I close my eyes and concentrate on the sound, I can hear it whisper back to me on the wind, tieing the fragments together and playing a part in the grander theme. I hear the down beat of grace, I hear the lilting playfulness of this chord, and differentiate the instruments that played in sync to reverberate as one. Woah.

I know I have many friends who are struggling with their circumstances, with a job loss, with a disappointed dream, broken moments...to you I would sit down, look into your eyes, give you a hug, and gently speak to you. Oh, I know, I have been there. I remember, the hardship, the despair, the shortness of breath as cynical reality fought to overpower any idea of hope...or freedom...and that I'm sorry you are there. Then I would pause...for however long the moment demanded and gently speak again with the quiet confidence and assurance to remind you that you have an awesome God, so powerful, so BIG...and He knows too...not just knows where you are now, but He knows where you'll be later...and He knows how to get from there to here, and from here to there. He will not loose you along the way, trust in Him to get you there, trust in Him for the journey, keep up the faith. Keep the faith that life and this moment aren't so much about what you can make happen, what you can contrive, what you are capable of...life is often finding yourself in the dance, whether there is rain or bright crystalline sunshine and realizing the partner you are paired with is God, and that all He asks is for you to trust in Him and respond to Him. Let Him lead. Find the joy in the journey. And when the music stops, and you find yourself there, here, and there's that head rush, that woah...smile and give thanks for the dance and then prepare to dance again. The next song is about to play...

Thank you God, thank you for the dance~