The Crazy Aunt in the Attic...:)

Sometimes I try to define "normal" and I even yearn for it.

At those times in my mind, I think that families should never have members who do crazy things or "go off the rails".  But in reality, I could regale you with story after story of the nuts in my family tree (seriously) and while my extended family may have been blessed with more than their share of eccentrics  (some mild and some not...), the truth is that I think most (not all, but most) families have at least one crazy aunt in the attic or an uncle that "we just don't talk about in polite company..."  So if the majority of families have at least one person in their extended (or immediate) family who is a little whacked out or who drives everyone crazy or who seems bent on self-destruction or who is just "hard to get along with", then that's really.. kind of .. the norm for life down here.

In my mind, I think (and often ask) God to shield us from suffering as well as relieve our suffering when it comes.  (And I don't plan to stop asking for that any time soon, just in case you are wondering...) However,  I just finished reading a novel about a demon-possessed Messiah-like figure who sweeps into a small town and starts healing everyone.  (Yes... it's a Frank Peretti novel...  A book called The Visitation).  At first, the cult leader seems wonderful and the people are thrilled to be able to walk again, to have crushed bones made whole, etc.  But as the novel progresses, you see that these physical healings don't really change the people. The thief who has been made physically whole is still... a thief.  The one who was paralyzed and who can now walk turns out to be a bully.  By the same token, another character who goes through great suffering because their situation is not "fixed" - this person comes through his ordeal with a strong faith that encourages others to follow Christ.

I hesitate to write these things because, honestly, I don't do well when I am in pain. Any kind of pain.  Phil can tell you...

In my 58 years of life, I can see two (and only two) times when I felt like I had an epiphany (i.e., drew closer to God) during suffering.  That tells you there have been a whole lot of other days when suffering came knocking at my door but the epiphany didn't come with it... :)

In Dec. of 2004, Phil and I decided to write up our testimony and pass out that letter, along with some Christmas cookies, to people in our neighborhood.  We passed out most of them early in the month but we still had about 4 houses to visit.  It snowed heavily right before Christmas and the ground was still covered in some places on Christmas Eve. I was debating whether to distribute the last Christmas baggies when a neighbor, who was well-past sixty, came over with some cookies for us.  I asked him how the roads were and he said they were fine, it wasn't hard to walk on them.  Phil was at the store and David was at a friend's house so I decided to "try it" and so I wrapped up in my winter coat and headed out.  I had not gone far before I learned the true meaning of "black ice".  I fell on the pavement, not once but twice, each time catching myself on my left wrist.  After the second time, I looked up to see a car slowly heading toward me. It was still about two blocks away but, since the day was overcast and it was late afternoon, I didn't know how much visibility the driver would have and I didn't know how much control he would have over the car as he tried to stop.  I literally cried out to God for help and tried one more time to stand. This time, I made it and was able to walk to a neighbor's house where the father (who, unknown to me, had been in prison and was still not a saint by any means) - where the father willingly took me to the hospital on treacherous roads.

Obviously, God was taking care of me (and it was not His fault that I made a bad decision to go out on icy/snowy roads) - but at the time, I could not see it. I remember hearing the doctor at the ER saying how he just loved dealing with crushed bones and I hoped he was kidding.  He wasn't. I had crushed every small bone in my left wrist, so much so that the specialist couldn't insert a brace into it as he planned but instead put five pins in it. He told me all he did was hands and arms and he'd never had to operate on both sides of a wrist before but it was the only way he could put mine back together.

I remember being deeply ashamed as I lay in the ER room that evening, waiting for Phil to come. All I could think about was how this would affect our budget, our home life, our jobs. At the same time, I began to wrestle with what I would later realize was an arrogant attitude, although I didn't see it at the time.  I mean, I was trying to do the Lord's work so why would this happen to me?  (I later realized that Foxe's book of Martyrs pretty much answers that question and then some... Duhhhhh...  Not to mention the New Testament, the life of Paul and ultimately, the life of Christ).

However, at that time I was in great pain and it would only intensify on  Christmas day.  So the questions just began to come along with Self-Pity,  a friend who would stay right by my side through my four months of physical therapy.  (When I first walked into the physical therapy room, another patient said, "Welcome to the House of Pain!"  Soooo not good.... :)

As I lay there on Christmas afternoon, still unaware of the journey that was ahead of me,  I was not thankful that my sisters-in-law had come over to the house to fix the meal I was supposed to be fixing. Nor was I thankful that they were trying to keep noise to a minimum so as not to disturb me.

The truth is that I wasn't filled with love for Him or anyone, especially as the day progressed and the swelling in my arm increased.

At one point that evening, I was lying there  telling God how things "should have been".  It was Christmas, my favorite holiday, and I should have been in the living room with the rest of the family.  It was a time for rejoicing and I should have been able to sing songs and enjoy the holiday ambiance.  It was a day for remembering the child in the manger and I should have been able to worship but I couldn't.  There in the dark, I felt isolated, alone in my pain.  

And that was when Jesus  opened my "eyes" and shared some things with me.  He impressed on my mind that the first Christmas was tough for Him. That for the first time, He was separated from His home in Heaven, that there was no turkey and dressing waiting at the stable where he was born and no Christmas lights either.  Basically the first Christmas was a time of separation and marked the beginning of a road of suffering.  In that moment, there in the dark, I felt I really understood Christmas for the first time and knew that I was actually able to celebrate it better - not in spite of but because of my suffering.

The other epiphany happened on a particularly difficult day in therapy. I remember that there were three middle-aged school teachers in  therapy that day and all of us were crying:)  The therapist was already passing around the Kleenex box when I got there and I remember he looked at me and said, "Whatever you do today, please don't cry!"  Then he twisted my wrist and I managed to say, "We're going to have to make a deal. You do what you gotta do and I'll do what I gotta do..."  He interpreted that statement rightly and immediately went for another Kleenex box....:)

As was typical for most of my therapy days, by the time I got on the exercise machine, I was not a happy camper.  And when I'm not happy, I'm afraid the Lord hears about it.... So I was pouring out all my complaints, mostly asking Him why I was having to go through all this, when He impressed this thought on my mind:  you haven't praised me yet in all this so keep going...:)  (I really believe God has a sense of humor...)

I hadn't praised Him yet?  Of course I hadn't praised Him yet!! I was in pain and I was ticked...  Why would He even think that I would praise Him under such circumstances????

And the answer came to me, for what it's worth:  because, until you can praise Me in the midst of pain, you haven't really praised Me.  

Praise from a joyful heart is easy.

Praise from a pain-filled heart is tough.

And yet, our God inhabits praise.  That is where He lives.  And sometimes pain coupled with praise is the vehicle that draws us closest to Him because His son Jesus is, after all,  a man acquainted with grief...

Does this mean that the next time I'm in pain, you can expect to find me praising God?

No. Don't even think that.... 

As I said, two days out of 58 years is not a stellar track record....  All this means is, I'm still learning, still  a work in progress. And yes, I'm probably also someone's crazy aunt in the attic or the family member who drives others crazy.

As someone once said, "Normal is just a setting on the dryer."

I think Heaven will be beyond "normal", everything we desire and then some!

But we're just  not there yet...

Doughnuts...

     Doughnuts... they aren't my favorite food which might surprise you if you've ever looked at my waistline...
     They're okay but they aren't why I go by  a local shop once in a while.
      I go by the shop because years ago I knew someone who worked there part time.  A young Muslim man, an international, who kept asking me questions about Christianity.  His curiosity bothered me.  I kept wondering what was behind his questions and what his family would think if they knew he was asking me all these things.  I wondered at times if even just answering his questions was treading on thin ice and so sometimes I gave noncommittal answers.  I had heard that the consequences of leaving Islam can be serious, even causing one to be rejected totally by his family. So I was wary when he asked things about my faith; it was new ground for me and I wasn't sure what to say, what not to say, where my responsibility started and where it ended...
    And then one day he told me about the doughnut shop and I understood why he was curious.
    When he first came here, he  spoke very little English.  But he had friends, also Muslims from another country,  who ran the doughnut shop and so he could pick up extra income  working there in the early mornings  before going on to his main job.  Over time he noticed that the people who bought doughnuts Monday through Saturday seemed impatient and sometimes even rude.  He didn't particularly like them.
   But Sunday mornings were different. The people smiled and thanked him, they were nice.
   So he asked his boss one day why there was such a difference.
   His boss said, "Those customers are Christians. They are going to church and they are just nicer."
   And that's why I had been receiving periodic questions about my faith:  my friend simply wanted to know what it was about Christianity that made people different.
   He didn't want to convert; he just wanted to understand.
   And so now, whenever I am near the shop in the morning, I go by and get a few doughnuts.  And I make it a point to smile and be polite on a workday.  (Because I'm sure that some of the people who were grumpy and rude Monday through Friday were also Christians. And that would be me on occasion as well.  I'm guilty too!)
   So this is the deal:  I don't know the people who work in this shop - my friend has long since quite working there I'm sure -  and the current workers don't know me. We never discuss anything and I have no expectations that we ever will.  That's not why I go  there.
   I make the detour occasionally because, oddly enough, I feel  I owe that place a debt of gratitude. Because one of their workers, a long time ago now,  really brought it home to me how much a smile (or lack thereof) can impact others.
   Something to think about...  Especially if you call yourself a Christian...
   Just sayin'

 

When you don't know...

     Years ago I saw a plea to help an international woman, an Asian lady who wanted to learn English and also the Bible. I already had an international friendship partner. I was working full time and had an active teen-ager in the house, along with half his friends it seemed. The bottom line was that I had no time to take on another international.
     However, no one else did either so I agreed to do it temporarily and so I contacted the family. The husband immediately said that they would like to go to church and gave me their address. As it turned out, the address was very incomplete. They lived in a large apartment complex and we weren't certain which building was theirs.  So on that first Sunday morning, we literally had to stop and ask God to help us find the Asian couple - we didn't have a phone number so we really had no idea where to start.  After praying, my husband said he was going to start with the first building and that he thought it would be good to start upstairs and work his way to the lower level. As he started to knock on the first door, it was opened by an Asian man who was dressed for church. He had just decided to come out and look for us.
     We took them to church and set up a time for me to come to their apartment after school and give an English lesson.  About two days later, I showed up with a grammar workbook and a Bible, still not sure that she really wanted to study the Bible, armed with secular English lessons just in case.
     Clearly she wanted to learn both the Bible and English so I opened up the NLT, not sure how to proceed.  We finally hit on the plan of me reading a few verses out of John 1 and then her reading them after me, working on her pronunciation. After she had the pronunciation right, we worked on meaning.  Even though she had a bi-lingual dictionary, we often had to resort to pantomime or even hastily drawn sketches to break through the language barrier.  It was slow going but fun. Sometimes we would both just break down in laughter at our poor acting abilities and our even worse drawing abilities! Sometimes, even with our best efforts at communicating, we got our wires hopelessly, hilariously crossed!  I knew early on that I was going to like her and in fact we did become good friends over the next few months.  When she had to leave, I missed her deeply and still do.
     However, that is not what this blog is about...
     During that first session, halfway through, she stopped me and said, to my total surprise, "Last night I tell Jesus I want belong to Him."  Then she turned to me.  "Do, ah, you think He hear that?"
      I said, "Yes" even as the steps to salvation ran through my mind. Did she understand that she was a sinner?  I didn't know.  Did she understand that she needed a savior? I didn't know. How did we go from laughing hysterically  one minute over grammar to this?  I just didn't know!
     So I  said, "Yes" and waited, hoping it was the right answer.
     She nodded and said, "I think so too."
     Then she told me that she had prayed that prayer the night before and when she started praying, the room was totally dark. But within minutes, it was filled with light, a bright light like she'd never seen before.
      Wow!
       Over time I would learn that she had lived in several countries and in her previous location, a friend had taught her a lot of the Bible.  I knew she hadn't come to faith from anything she saw or heard at church with us because her English was so limited but when I realized she had studied previously in another country, things made sense.
        We continued to study each week and then one afternoon, she pulled out a list of verses and began to ask me about each one. I was totally surprised; each one, taken out of context, seemed to deny central tenets of Christianity. I knew enough to recognize that taking them out of context was the main problem.  But before I could scan the first  passage in it's entirety, she would ask me to turn to another.
       At each place, I would say, "I'm sorry. I don't have the answer but I'll look it up later and get back to you."
     After looking at about three verses this way, she suddenly said, "No. I should not ask."
     I assured her that she had every right to ask, that I wasn't an expert on the Bible but I would study and ask others and provide the answer at our next meeting.
     She shook her head and said, "But, no, I should not ask."
     When I started to reassure her again that she had every right to ask, she stopped me and said, "Later. I  get answers. Now, I don't need."
     She then told me that her previous teacher was not a Christian. This was news to me!   So when my Asian friend e-mailed this woman, telling her how happy she was that she had become a Christian, the other lady  got upset and pulled verses out of context to show her that she should not believe in Christ.
     Wow.  That was a game changer!  But still, I told my friend that she  had a right to ask any questions she wanted  and she replied again, "No. I don't need."
     And then she told me that when she was living in this other country, she had a problem that was really troubling her deeply. So she shared this with her mentor and her friend told her to pray to God and ask for help.
   My Asian friend did exactly what she had been told to do  but nothing changed.
   Then she came to America and met some other Asians who were Christians. She explained to them how prayer did not work and they told her, "You didn't do it right; you have to ask in Jesus' name."
    So she went home and did that  and her prayer was answered.
    After she ended this story, she said, "So I know Jesus is right way.  Later, I  get answers. Now. I don't need."
     Sometimes we wonder: what will I do if I share my faith and then I run into someone who has a bunch of tough questions?
     Be honest.  And remember that there is only One who has all the answers and He can give both knowledge and assurance in a multitude of ways.  In time my friend's questions were answered but in the interim, she had peace and her faith continued to grow.
   

Today :)

   I love today.
   Tomorrow doesn't always look so good but today is perfect.
   My knees hurt with every step I take on days like this  when the weather is changing. But I can walk.  And I love Fall days like this when the sky is overcast, there's a slight breeze, and change is in the air.  So that's two positives and one negative and in this world, I'd say that's about as perfect as a day can get.
   But there's more.  Today was an "unscheduled" day.  On a workday, no less...  A day when I only had one brief "gotta do" item  on my list. Just one!!! The wonder of it is still with me after over a year of retirement. To have a whole weekday stretching out in front of me  to "spend" in any way I want.  It's a luxury of which I am still acutely aware and for which I am deeply thankful.  Just to be able to walk into a store during "school hours" without feeling guilty (as I did even when I was buying something for my classroom) - well, it's amazing!
   But there's more.  I can still see old friends and visit with new ones.  The other day when I was at school after hours, I just fell into natural conversation with my former colleagues (who were still there!) and roared with laughter at some of the things I heard.  (Like the new light system can only be operated with a key so when the custodian turns off the hall lights and stair well lights, you are just out of luck, in the dark.  But... you can still find your way in and out of the bathroom by using your cell phone!  I love that... so typical of schools and of the way teachers cope while making a huge joke out of it!  (Note: if you aren't resourceful and you don't have a sense of humor... do NOT go into teaching...:)
   But there's more.  I do love the Bible study I'm doing - and the women I'm privileged to do it with.  I can literally spend hours on the study and it just gives me joy. Deep down, not-goin'-anywhere-soon type of joy. I thought it was the nature of the study itself and to a large  extent, it is.  But I've done a very short study by the very same author and guess what?  Last night, out of curiosity, I got out my old workbook study, remembering how much I loved that class three or four years ago and to my shock, I saw that I had only completed about 70% of the study!  I didn't even do the last week at all!  Yet I really loved that class!  As I turned the pages, I could tell that some of my answers were well-thought out and some were just hastily scribbled in at the last minute.
    And I wondered how that could be.
    And then it came back to me - getting to school, some days by 6:30 or 7. Staying until 5 or 6.  Coming home to housework, cooking, laundry, and sometimes more paper grading. Trying to schedule time with friends who were also working.  Trying to be active in church.  Trying to be active in the community.  Trying to catch up on needed rest after a couple of sleepless nights. Just spending the coin of my days.. .trying!!!
    And now I have the luxury of giving as much time to this Bible study as I want and I find I want to give it a lot.  Because the more I give, the more I love it.  And I wake up some days thinking: what  a privilege this is - to be able to learn to my heart's content without worrying about a stack of papers at the end of the rainbow. If that makes sense...
    So yes, part of growing older is that -  unlike when you are in your twenties or thirties and neat life experiences are still mostly stretching out in front of you- tomorrow doesn't always look so good in your fifth and sixth decade of life:)  I don't mean  the going-to-Heaven part but I mean the developing a first-name relationship with your doctor, the clinic, the surgeon, the hospital, the medical equipment rental people and  so on before you get to go to Heaven.
    Yet, even with the prospect of geriatric issues coming closer with time, I am acutely aware that I have been blessed not to have traveled the medical circuit before now. Many don't even get to enjoy their twenties and thirties.
    So yes, I mean it when I say: today is a perfect day!
    And, yes, I mean it when I say:  I'm grateful:)
   
 
   
 

Sometimes it's either/ or, not both..

     Life is full of twists and turns and some of them are only fully revealed in the rear view mirror, so to speak.
     There was a time when I nearly married the "wrong" person.  Friends and family tried to warn me.  But what they didn't know at the time was that I was aware of more problems with the relationship than they were.  In other words, while they thought they were pointing out things that I was blind to, I was actually concealing things from them that they were not privy to. And, for the most part, also concealing them from myself as much as I could.
     But when you are in the wrong relationship, there are warning signs that you can't "stuff down" inside your psyche forever.   In spite of everything, internal alarms will insist on going off from time to time. When they do, you need to pay attention. One of my alarms went something like this: you really don't love him.
     I knew it was true but I would quickly convince myself that it wasn't.
     Why did I even contemplate marrying someone I knew deep down that  I really didn't love?
     Several  factors. One  was my age. I was almost thirty and keenly aware of my "biological clock" ticking. I wanted a home and children and was afraid I would have neither.
     A second factor was his children. He had two and I fell in love, not with him, but with them.  They wanted a mother and with all my heart, I  wanted to be their mother.
     Another factor was security.  Their dad had a steady income and was generous.  Even more than that, for many years it had just been my mom and myself. So whenever the furnace went out, the grass needed mowing, the new curtains had to be put up, etc, I was the one to do it. I hated things like that.  And then this generous, kind-hearted man came into my life, bringing two wonderful kids and suddenly, when something needed doing or fixing around the house, he was there at my side to help me.
    It was heady stuff.
    To add to these pluses, for the first time I was taken to nice restaurants regularly and also proposed to routinely.  Twice I received a dozen roses, the second time with an engagement ring attached to the flowers. I had had a long term romance in the past, back in my college days - but never anything like this.
    I vacillated back and forth in the relationship but finally, after 4 months I broke it off.
    Not because of anything my friends or family said to me.  Not because of warning signals  that were going off occasionally from within.   But because  one day God made it plain to me that I could either marry this man and forfeit His plan for my life or I could stay in His will and break off the relationship.  I could do either/or but I couldn't do both.
    That was 29 years ago and I can still tell you where I was and how I got the message, so strong was the impression.
    I was driving across the I-430 River Bridge during Spring break  to visit a friend and as I got to the bridge  I thought it would be a good time to pray out loud.  Soooo... I did.
    Nothing fancy -  I just said, "God, please, I want to know..." and then I burst into tears. The next words out of my mouth were, "Why can't I marry him????"
    I had  lowered my defenses and in about two seconds, He somehow made it beyond  clear to me that marriage to my friend was not His will for me.  Clearly He was more interested in protecting me from this relationship than I had been  interested in protecting myself.
     These are some things that I learned from that time:
     1. If someone pressures you to marry them early on, before you are ready, run.  There's a reason for the pressure to marry yesterday (or to move in together or whatever) already.
    2.  Which brings me to the second point: many times the reason they pressure you to commit is because of yesterday.  Because of failed relationships in the past or even failure to handle adversity well in the past.  In other words, marry me before you find out I have a bad track record (that it's not all my ex's fault) or that I have a nasty temper or a tendency to be controlling, manipulative, etc.
    3.  The third thing I learned, and perhaps the most important was:  if thoughts like, "I can live with this" or "I can make this work" or "I can make them happy even though... " or "It will be different after we are married" - if thoughts like these  routinely surface, you need to run, not walk, to the nearest exit.  It's been said over and over that things that bother you in dating will only get worse, not better, in marriage.  It's been said so many times, in fact,  that engaged couples often get tired of hearing it and disregard it as a worn-out platitude that doesn't apply to them.
        It's been said so often because... it's true.
        To disregard it is begging for trouble. In spades.
        What happened  when I broke off my engagement with my friend?
        He wasn't my friend anymore.
        He showed me a whole new side to his personality, one that in numerous weekly dates over a four-month period I had never seen before. He was going to kill himself and it was my fault. He would never go to church again and it was my fault.  He was going to leave his kids and go to another state for one last look at the mountains before he did himself in. And it was all my fault.
      How could I have missed all that while dating him?
      I promise, he never showed me anything but generosity, kindness, and a  positive outlook on life during the many dates and phone calls that we had.  You can do that short term or as long as you have to until the ink is dry on the parchment; you can't, however,  do it forever.
    How could I have known that this was the opposite side of the coin when I didn't even realize the coin had another side to it?
    I couldn't.
    Only God could.
    Which leads me to the last point.
    Marriage is rewarding but it is also unbelievably hard. Even in the best of circumstances.
    If you are thinking about going into a long-term relationship without first  having  a strong relationship with God, I would encourage you to think again.  Only God knows everything. About you. About your partner. About the future.
    And sometimes He is more interested in our welfare than we ourselves are.
     Even if the marriage is "right", I promise, over the years circumstances often won't be.  Life is full of troubles. When you marry, you double the opportunities, not only for good things  to come calling   but also  for bad things  to come calling.  There was  a movie, Field of Dreams,  years ago that said, "Build it and they will come."  I'm saying, "Build a marriage and troubles will come."  It's just a part of it, the bad comes right along with the good. And sometimes the bad can be incredibly bad, even when you're married to  the right person.
    Today I am so thankful. Thankful that God intervened in my life some 29 years ago and that I had the sense to listen and do the hard thing He called me to do. He knew the "right" person for me was just around the corner; that the children I wanted to mother would be mothered by someone else and turn out well;   that my date would drop the pressure tactics when he saw they didn't work and go back to being a responsible dad again in a fairly short time.
    God had a plan for all of us and I'm so thankful that when I was in my late twenties, I didn't just bull ahead and insist on having my own  way.  Now, at 58 years of age, I can testify that His way is better and I know I'm not alone in this.
   
   I Samuel 15:22 - ... to obey is better than sacrifice..."
   Jeremiah 29:11 - "For I know the plans that I have for you..."

The Oil that Makes the Wheel Go 'Round...

     This morning started off like any normal day but I quickly ran smack into a problem with our banking account and from there jumped off the deep end into panic mode. (Don't you just hate letters from banks and insurance companies???)   This led me to  the phone where I honestly tried to call the bank...  After several, "Select a language, then press this if you want that, then press this while remembering this conversation [which hasn't happened yet and at this rate never will happen!] may be monitored for quality control purposes..." - after listening to things like that and then being transferred three times,  frustration began to add fuel to my panic. I was spazzing, to put it mildly...
     Can I not just talk to a real person here?  I fumed.  Just one soul who can actually speak plain English and tell me what I need to know???
     After exploring this fruitless avenue, I decided to grab my  documents and go to the bank in person, spread all my papers out on some hapless employee's  desk and try to get some answers that way.  However,  before I did that I called my husband, explained the situation and asked him to pray. I meant that I just needed him to silently pray whenever he could but instead he stopped everything at work and prayed for me right there over the phone in a sweet, gentle voice.     He  asked God to give me peace and wisdom, to go before me as I tried to straighten things out and to lead me to the right person at the bank, someone who would really help me
     I was grateful as I hung up the phone but definitely still far from being calm!     
      However,   for  some reason as I gathered up our papers in my trembling hands,  I decided to go back over our account information one more time and there it was -  I saw what I had totally missed before. The error was mine, not the bank's.  It wasn't a huge error - my panic had come not from the actual mistake but from the fact that I thought the bank had made it. My fear was: if the bank messed this up, what else has gone wrong?  What if this is just the tip of the iceberg? How will I ever get it straightened out???
    Now I knew it was a simple issue... and that I needed to call my husband to tell him the fault was mine...
    Two interruptions in one work day - the first a panicky phone call from a spouse  hyped up on anxiety and the second a mea culpa phone call from same said spouse...  Not good....
     But I was able to make the second call because I know Phil.  He was sweet the first time and just as sweet the second time. He told me not to worry and  expressed gratitude that God had given me the guidance I needed. Then he  suggested I  go for a short walk because it was  pretty outside and told me to be thinking about where I would like to go out to eat this evening because this was our night to celebrate my birthday.
    So with visions of Cracker Barrel dancing in my head, I went for a walk and then curled up in bed with a book and soon fell asleep.  A couple of hours later, I woke up and while the house was still quiet  went into the living room to get started on my sixth lesson on Biblical covenants.  
    While I was doing the Bible study,  the sky just opened up and dumped rain! It was awesome to behold!  I guess I'm weird but I love to sit inside where it's warm and well-lit while it's cold, dark, windy and wet outside.  Although I didn't break out the hot chocolate tonight, I pretty much think of these  as hot chocolate evenings and I love them!
   As I worked on the lesson and listened to the rain, I was once again amazed at how God  talked to Abraham, how He entered into a covenant with a mere human being, and how He even reassured Abraham of His protection and of His continued blessings.  All this at a time when Abraham had no children and was basically just a nobody nomad from a pagan land.
    Wow!  And yet Almighty God spoke to him!  Pulled back the curtain of time a bit and revealed some of the  future to him!  Even blessed him and kept his promise to give Abraham a son -  against all odds!
   As I worked through the lesson, I felt a peace and a joy that didn't diminish even as I realized it was getting too late to make our birthday date feasible.  To my surprise, I realized I didn't really care if we went out or not; I was actually content to stay home, enjoy the presence of God, and listen to the rainfall.  I loved my life.
   As 7 o'clock neared, I began to think that something more must be going on besides Phil just having an extra long workday because it was so late and also on a date night.   He has fallen asleep at the wheel before so when he's abnormally late, this can also send me into panic mode, just like the bank stuff did earlier.  However, tonight, with my Bible open on my lap and my thoughts mostly on the greatness and goodness of God, each time  an anxious thought crossed my mind, I was able to simply hand it over to my Heavenly Abba.  And each time I did that, I felt everything was okay so  I didn't pursue the issue any further by breaking out the cell phone.
   At 7 Phil drove up, not feeling 100 % and  pretty worn out but still intent on taking me out to eat, simply because he had promised and didn't want to disappoint me.
   I convinced him that another evening would do just as well and  at that point he asked me if I would be interested in just having t.v. dinners - something he likes occasionally. To my surprise, I was. It actually sounded good to me!    So while I got those in the oven, he walked over to the sink which was full of dirty dishes and instead of getting upset: What is this?  You've had all day and you haven't even washed dishes? How long did you nap this afternoon???   Instead of what he probably should have said and definitely could have said,  without missing a beat  he picked up a dishcloth and said, "While you get the  dinners going, I'll do the dishes."
    And he did just that.
    After a long day at work, knowing I had been at home all day and knowing I had messed up one of our bills - my husband did the dishes!  And asked me how my afternoon had been and I knew he asked because he was genuinely interested. In me....
    And that's how our  "birthday un-date" began. After the dinners were done, we found a place to put them on our tiny kitchen table.  (His laptop and in-service training manuals dominate  half the table right now as he works on them every evening but that's okay - plastic  t.v. dinner trays don't need a lot of room!)  And that's where we spent our "romantic" evening:   eating a (very!)simple meal in a cramped  kitchen while  talking about our days as well as  our fears, our joys, and the things God was teaching us.
    Please don't get me wrong -this is not how days like this normally go around here. We can both spazz out and in turn, spazz each other out -  sometimes to the nth degree...
    But as I've looked at covenant through my current Bible study and learned what it really means and as Phil has looked at it along with me and we've discussed it, it's refined how we view our marriage.
    This is the deal: covenant is not about one person, it's about both people.  And when push comes to shove, a covenant partner promises - actually swears - to put the other person's needs ahead of their own.
    And I just don't think that is an idea that comes naturally to man. Even if I hadn't read it in the Bible, I would still think this has to be a God idea.
    And please hear me - I will always be grateful that my mom left my dad. She had Biblical grounds and then some; to have stayed in the marriage any longer would have been dangerous.
    But for the normal ebb and flow of married life, for the days when the bank account is screwed up, the   planned date falls through,  the sink is full of dirty dishes, and the husband has had a super long day at work -it is for those days that "covenant" is meant.
    And knowing that -  really knowing that each partner is to put the other person ahead of themselves -  is oddly freeing.  I guess I'm saying, when it's "all (or even partly)  about me", marriage can be a hassle, an intermittent tug-o-war. But when each partner focuses on the other, we can somehow  lay our weapons down and be what we're meant to be, allies of the first order.
    However, I also want to say this.  Spending time with God  helps a bunch.  Before Phil ever came home tonight, pretty much blasted  and feeling slightly sick, I had already had my expectations for joy and contentment met.  At the feet of Jesus, my ultimate covenant partner.
   Marriage is a covenant agreement but even so, the truth is that   it can never completely satisfy the deep needs both  of heart and soul. It's just that the  human heart longs for something more and that something is actually Someone. On the days when I spend time with God and experience His ability to meet my needs, it's so much easier to put my spouse ahead of myself and for Phil  to do the same for me.

   I'm so glad that God initiated the idea of covenants and that He keeps the ones He has made with us.And I'm so glad that, flawed and weak as I am, I have the option of knowing Him and finding that when push comes to shove, when I'm in  love with Him, He puts me first because I am His covenant partner.
   For me, His eternal covenant love is the oil that makes my other covenant, the one with Phil, go round.
   (And if you think I've used the word "covenant" too many times in this blog, you should read Kay Arthur's workbook... Trust me!)
   Hoping everyone has a blessed weekend! And that you don't get any surprise letters from the bank any time soon!

Someday ... I will!

What I'd like for my birthday...

For my "sister" not to have cancer...
I was going to make a list of things that I would like to have but really,
the list almost  sort of stops there,
where it began.

There are other things, though.
I wish I had tons of money and could give freely
so that there would be no food lines, no
kids without the basics.  Sometimes when
I do gather up things for the needy,
it just bothers me that all I can do is
a thimble full when there's an ocean
out there.  If that makes sense.

And I wish I could just wipe away grief
from  my friends who are struggling with
tough losses and difficult anniversaries.
Death truly is the last enemy.  Sometimes
I wish God would just pull back the veil
a little bit for my loved ones who are
grieving - so faith could be sight..
even if for only just an instant.

And I wish that every friend I have who
doesn't know God and who doesn't seem to
really want to know Him would suddenly
realize He is what they are seeking.
They just don't know it yet.
And many times, I wish I had the courage
to tell them that.  But usually I don't.

And then there are times when I
wish I could just sit at the beach for hours and
hours without getting sunburned and without
traveling forever to get there.  With my
husband and my son and a few
close friends.

 I've seen sun rise
and sunset over the ocean.

Some day I'd like to see
the rise of the Bright
and Morning Star.

Someday ... I will!