Falling Through an American Looking Glass

I have a feeling this isn't going to make anybody happy. But these are my thoughts on current issues:

1. We live in a republic where majority rules. I've followed the trends in current thinking and while I don't agree with them all, I fully expected gay marriage to be legalized in all states eventually by popular vote. And because I value the type of government that we have (as opposed to dictatorships, monarchies, theocracies, military juntas, etc), I am pretty much okay with that.

2. And yet... at one time our populist votes in the South upheld slavery and in the Dred Scott Decision so did the Supreme Court. And I've never been okay with that...

3. It's not a cliche to say that "tolerance" means to respectfully agree to disagree. Now it seems to have morphed into this: tolerance means that you give up your beliefs in order to whole-heartedly embrace an opposing belief and/or to embrace the logically impossible belief that all positions are equally valid. IF you have two contradictory ideas, they can both be wrong. However, they cannot both be right. Tolerance means we are allowed to hold onto and respectfully express our opinions while others are allowed to do the same thing.

4. Frankly, I wonder when we will get our heads out of the bedroom. Sex sells everything. Tires. Food. Household cleaners. Toilet paper. Cars. Reality shows (Now THERE is an oxymoron..) And now it determines our identity. (REally? What if you are celibate? Is that your identity?? Hi, my name is _______, I've never had sex with anyone so I sort of, don't have an identity... I mean, I'm not heterosexual, homosexual, transgender sexual, bi-sexual, polygamous, monogamous. I just... sort of... don't do it....)

5. While I get it that Americans deserve equal legal rights, I don't get this sappy, sentimental view of marriage and love. Has anyone looked at the divorce rate lately??? I have a good marriage and I'm thankful. But there have still been times when I could have put Phil out on the curb with the morning trash and many more times when he could have (justifiably!) done the same thing to me. The reason we have a good marriage is because we've worked hard and fought to have a good marriage.

The stuff about the honeymoon ending and about squeezing the toothpaste tube from the wrong end - that stuff IS NOT A JOKE. Marriage and parenthood are the HARDEST things I have ever done!!! Phil and I have changed each other but I can't say it's always been for the best. Hopefully more good than bad here but those bad habits have a way of rubbing off on our loved ones just as the good habits do. (I have certainly, undeniably lowered Phil's standards of perfection... )

Basically the Bible has it right - any improvement that comes from marriage is like iron sharpening iron. (Think white hot metal sparks flying from time to time as in when someone is welding steel bars together). It's not this dewy eyed picture that we get married, we blissfully enlarge each other's world view, change habits, and "improve" one another while sipping from wine glasses on the beach of life.

But even more important: when did marriage become a requirement for becoming better than we already are? Excuse me??? What about the single adults in this world?? Is there no hope for them?? Gosh, I guess Corrie ten Boom and Mother Theresa totally missed the boat - poor things never experienced fulfillment or that chance to become the "more" that they were meant to be. Which, now that I think about it, means that Elizabeth Taylor, Stephen Fry, Rosie O'Donnell, Mickey Rooney, Larry King, Kenny Rogers, and Martin Scorsese are the most fulfilled, completed, blissful people on the planet. Because if an active sexual life within the confines of marriage is a requirement for happiness... then they must, by default, lead the way...

When I was a single adult, I heard a pastor say: do NOT choose your future partner on the basis of passion. Why? Because there are 23 other hours in the day... I was a bit shocked at the time but, you know what? He had a valid point... smile emoticon

You don't have to be a heterosexual to be a Christian. But you do have to respect God's word which teaches that we are not defined by our passions but by our identity in Christ. Which teaches that He is the potter and we are the clay. Which means He has the right to set moral boundaries which we are to observe, regardless of how our hormones are bouncing around inside of us. Which means that sex is meant to be between one man and one woman within the bonds of a covenant relationship.

Those restrictions are not comfortable. You mean I can't stand my husband and yet I can't get him to agree to a divorce so... it's not okay for me to have an affair? Or you mean my wife has a chronic illness so it's wrong for me to have sexual relations with other women once in a while even though I love my wife and I don't love the other person? Or what if I have strong feelings for two guys at the same time? (Ado Annie in "Oklahoma" would get some interesting advice today, based on how we define "fulfillment"...smile emoticon Or you mean I'm single and I can't just go sleep with whomever I want? (I remember a dear friend of mine who had just become a Christian. She'd led a bit of a wild child lifestyle prior to this. Totally new to Christianity and very honest, she once asked her mentor, "What does a Christian do when they feel horny?" (I apologize if that offends any of those old enough to recognize the slang. But I have to say, it led to one of the most interesting discussions we ever had in our single adult Bible study... Ha!)

For those who don't accept the Bible as an authority when it comes to moral issues, I don't expect you to agree with me. I do respect your right to express your own opinions and also expect you to return the same courtesy to me.

But above all, I wish that our society could get over the idea that our sex life defines us and that marriage magically conveys personal growth and fulfillment which (by implication) singleness can never do.

What a crock...

When innocent people (Muslims, Christians, and Yazidis) are being beheaded by terrorists, we can't seem to get our heads out of the bedroom. Or wrap our minds around the concept that fulfillment in life does not come from sex and/or marriage.

Personally, I wish the Supreme Court had debated and decided that every American should contribute 50.00 a year to providing clean water to people in Third World countries.

But then, that's just me... Never was good at keeping my priorities straight...

Life Lesson from a Chihuahua...

     I'm sitting here with an (almost) toothless chihuahua wrapped in a baby blanket and resting on my lap.  She's pretty clueless.  We can bribe her (most of the time) into taking care of business in the front yard; however... she still has her "on purposes" inside the house from time to time.
    She can do a good imitation of a mule when it's raining, digging her heels in and refusing to leave the  front porch because a single drop of rain fell on her nose.  And yet  she can go right outside the side door, directly across our carport, to potty on the driveway in the same rain that is falling on the front yard and she has no problem with that.  (Can we say short term memory is, um, very short term??)
    Her communication skills are distinctly limited.  When she wants something, she does one of two things:  she either emits  a sound that is like an aborted growl or she gives off a plaintive half note of high pitched grief.  When she sees me opening the dog food each day, she does what we call her "happy dance" - circling around on the floor until it makes us dizzy (literally), beating out a tattoo of little feet on the kitchen tile so rapidly that the Shirley Temple version of a centipede could not begin to compete with her.
    She supplants Buddie, our other indoor dog who has all his teeth and outweighs her by ten pounds, by making him get off  his favorite pillow. How? She simply stands in front of the couch - all five pounds of her -  looks up at him (she has to look up to see just about anything!) and barks at him. That's it!   That's all she does!  And when he's heard enough, he jumps off the couch, gets on her cushion (which is on the floor), and probably thinks dark thoughts about the female of the species while she curls up in the spot that he has obligingly warmed up for her.    Does it bother her?  Not a bit.  She did it yesterday. She did it today. And she'll most likely do it again tomorrow.
    She hates men so when my husband or my son say anything to her, even in the most dulcet of tones, she growls at them.  And then expects them to feed her part of whatever they are eating.  Which they do...
     And no matter how many on-purposes she's had or how mean she's been to Buddie, she is always - and I mean always - confident that I'll welcome her with open arms whenever she wants to snuggle next to me in my chair or curl up on my lap.
    I don't know where the expression, "It's a dog's life" originated but it certainly didn't come from this house.
    Sometimes I look at her as she naps, scarfs food she didn't earn, happily chases the same squirrel in the front yard every day (never catches him which is good because he's bigger than her), and manages to get her way 9.5 times out of 10.
    And I wonder: between the two of us... which one is smarter?

   It's sad when a Chihuahua redefines your idea of heaven... Ha!
   But I do  have to admit that Gracie has seriously given me a better understanding of ... grace.

How Sure Is Your Footing?

      I thought I had an infinite ability to be lazy.
      Now I realize that I'm just  a marathon type of lazy person. (Oxymoron) and not an infinite slug.
      I have a dilemma.  I have had foot pain for a number of weeks now but my fear of doctors is greater than the inconvenience of the pain I'm experiencing.  I've had foot pain many years ago and finally, with some anxiety, went to a podiatrist who almost never used invasive procedures.  It turned out that I had Plantar Fasciitis and it could be handled with inserts.
      So this time around, I diagnosed my own foot problem - similar pains except this time it is in my heel instead of the arch of my foot.  I dragged out a couple of  inserts I bought way back when and wore them over time until I realized each one  was making my pain worse instead of better.
     This time around I have found that walking around in my sock feet and/or staying off of said feet causes the pain to virtually disappear. (Right now I have absolutely no pain).   But wearing shoes (with or without inserts) increases the pain to the point that I can hardly walk.  (The busy weekend I had just two days ago being a case in point).
     So yesterday I sat around all day long.  And virtually no pain last night or this morning.  My husband (patiently) listened to my detailed recital of all my foot problems over the weekend and my comparative ease yesterday and made this suggestion:  why don't you cancel your activities for a few days, stay off your feet - since that makes the pain go away - and see if your foot will heal?
    Cancel my activities?
    It's not like I'm overbooked here.
    I'm retarred and I don't even garden...
    Besides, I don't want to cancel my activities.  ONe day sitting on my duff is fine but two or three or four?  Plus, there are at least three things I feel I HAVE to do this week - they can't be put off.
    But if severely restricting my activity works and I don't have to go to a surgeon (um, doctor) then ...   I wrestled with that decision this morning and finally canceled activities for today (although maybe not for tonight!).
    But I didn't like it.  Two weeks ago I put almost everything on hold because I was sitting with a sick in-law for several days.  Now it's my foot.
    Call me "Unreliable".
    Call me... um... "Old".
    But then it hit me - maybe there is more to this than just what I can see.  Maybe... just maybe... God wants me to be still.  (So I can finish confessing all my uncharitable thoughts over the past couple of weeks while I was playing temporary caregiver?  So I can better put myself in the unlucky person's place who was temporarily dependent on me for a few days?)
    I know that God has a purpose for everything He allows or sends our way.  (I don't think He sent this foot problem my way - I think overeating, lack of exercise, standing on my feet for 30 years in the classroom, and the natural aging factor sent this "gift" my way). But still He can use whatever situation I find myself in.
    So last night I sat up until 3 a.m. - it's hard to sleep when you've done nothing all day long - and I read for a couple of hours in the book Cold Case Christianity by J. Warner Wallace.  Mr. Wallace was the one who led the conference this weekend that I was privileged to attend.
   And now I have time (!) to read his book.
   Mr. Wallace is well-educated, articulate, and sharp.   He has worn many hats in his lifetime but his primary career has been that of a police detective.  He worked his way up from an officer on the beat to homicide to a cold case detective.  Cold cases are murder investigations that have been unsolved for years and/or decades.
   In the numerous cases he has worked, he has found that DNA has not been helpful. Sometimes DNA even works against the detective by eliminating all the known suspects, leaving the police with no other avenue to explore.
   By the same token, a murder case of twenty years ago can be so "cold" that there are no witnesses around to interview when the case is being re-examined.   No new scientific data to shed light on the case?  No old eyewitnesses still around to talk to?
   How can you solve a case like that?
   In his book, Cold Case Christianity, on his website coldcasechristianity.com/, and in his blog, pleaseconvinceme.com/, Mr. Wallace shows the average person how to apply cold 
case detective  skills to evaluating the reliability of the Gospels, the authenticity of the
 eyewitness accounts of the life of Christ, and  the information concerning the resurrection
 of Christ.    Using examples from cases that he has worked as a detective makes this a
somewhat different  and fascinating   look at an old story through a new lens.
  I highly recommend his writings and hope to share what I am learning through this blog.
  The most important thing in life, in my opinion, is to know that your world view is resting 
on solid footing, in step  with all the reasonable facts that are at our disposal.
   Ironically one foot problem =/ is giving me time to secure my religious footing amidst
 a world  full of deception.  And that is no small thing!
  As Paul wrote back in the first century: in everything give thanks!  So today I am 
thanking God for foot pain,  forced inactivity, and time to reflect.

   

Hymns and Funeral Home Fans...

The past week and a half have been a bit of a roller coaster ride.
I don't like roller coaster rides at theme parks; I certainly don't like them in real life where there is no ticket taker with a measuring stick to ensure that you are tall enough to be allowed on the ride in the first place.

This morning I am so thankful, even buoyed up by the sparkling new day outside, the gorgeous sunshine after days of overcast skies and intermittent rain. I am grateful that this day is open for me to do whatever I want to do; that I don't have to cope with my sister-in-law this morning (and she with me!)

And yet....

I have gained some wisdom and it's this: the curtain will be raised on the next act in my sister-in-law's life sooner rather than later and it won't be good. Today is, I believe, just a small intermission in the drama of her life and consequently in the drama of all our lives.

The doctor took her staples out yesterday so she insisted on going to her house to resume her normal life. But she was seriously dehydrated Tuesday night and still running a fever when Phil took her home yesterday so how normal can her life be?

She lives by herself although she has neighbors who try to watch out for her. Over the past week or so, we've seen her take too much medicine and not be aware that she was doing it. We've seen her consistently eat almost nothing and drink almost nothing - some days a small container of yogurt, half a cup of black coffee, and half a can of TAB and nothing else until supper time where she would eat a little more but not much.

Yet for the most part, she is lucid and able to control her own affairs. She is the older sister and the dominant personality in the family. And she has long prided herself on being the master of her fate, the captain of her soul - although she would never put it that way.

But that's what it boils down to. No matter what topic arises in conversation, she has seen a documentary on t.v., heard about it on the radio, and/or read a book about it. In the past whenever she held forth on a topic, she was usually right and had info none of the rest had at our fingertips.

She was witty, beautiful, and outgoing and to some extent still is. (Part of the reason she wouldn't eat much was because she knew she wasn't getting much exercise and she didn't want to gain weight) She also has a generous heart and a will to help others - she has blessed quite a few people in her home town.

But her wit and wisdom have turned into self-serving monologues that tend to keep others at arm's length. And at this point, she is captaining her ship right onto some serious shoals and we know it's just a matter of time before either she calls us and is forced to ask for help again or someone else calls us on her behalf...

And, seriously, how do you navigate your own ship from this world to the next when you need help accomplishing the simplest things and you are perhaps a little too dependent on pain meds without realizing it?

Don't we need a Savior?

The sweetest time that I have had throughout this past week and a half came last Friday night while I was sitting in the car waiting for Phil to take care of a little task for friends who were away for a few days. There in the stillness of the night, just as I was about to become impatient, God met me.

I don't know how else to put it. One minute I was starting to fret and the next hymns from my childhood just started running through my mind - songs I haven't sung in years.

Silly songs like "Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam..." smile emoticon
Childhood songs like "Jesus Loves Me," and "The B-I-B-L-E, Yes, That's the Book For Me!".
Girl's in Action (G. A.) songs like "We've a Story to Tell to the Nations."
Campfire songs like "I Have Decided To Follow Jesus."
And hymns that I associate with my grandmother's little country church (where the singing was less than stellar as I recall smile emoticon Songs such as: "There Is Power in the Blood," "Rescue the Perishing," and "Christ Receiveth Sinful Men."

This morning as I sat with my open hymnal, those old hymns plus words from a more  "citified"  hymn spoke to my heart:
Be still, my soul! the Lord is on thy side; bear patiently the cross of grief or pain. Leave to thy God to order and provide; In every change He faithful will remain. Be still, my soul! thy best, thy heavenly Friend, thro' thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

"Leave to thy God to order and provide; In every change He faithful will remain.." (Be Still, My Soul)

Years ago I acquired a BSE, an MSE, and six graduate hours above that. I have spent most of the years of my adult life promoting education and reading every book I could get my hands on. I have enjoyed all types of music - especially the modern choruses. And I don't know that I have ever valued the "old-timey" hymns that my grandma sang enthusiastically off key while fanning herself with a Funeral Home fan in a swelteringly hot country church.

Until now...

This is the bottom line: throughout the lows of these past 12 days, it has been those old, long discarded, "corny" hymns of humid summer Sundays and mosquito- ridden week night revival meetings that God has used to minister to my troubled heart; it has most definitely not been lessons learned at a professor's knee or facts gleaned from my honor's paper or all the books I read during my post graduate summer seminar on world cultures - as interesting as those things were.

No. The truth is: we are not masters of our fate nor are we captains of our souls. How can we be when we gradually lose the ability to recall and/or master the simplest of tasks?

The Bible has it right: My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalms 73:26)

Today I am so thankful that I learned this truth at my mother's knee and heard it warbled off key ad nauseam in my grandmother's small church where harmony was not at a premium but gritty faith was.

Please keep praying for my sis-in-law.
Thanks.
.

Sinners Jesus will receive;
Sound this word of grace to all
Who the heavenly pathway leave,
All who linger, all who fall.

Refrain

Sing it o’er and over again;
Christ receiveth sinful men;
Make the message clear and plain:
Christ receiveth sinful men.

Come, and He will give you rest;
Trust Him, for His Word is plain;
He will take the sinfulest;
Christ receiveth sinful men.

Refrain

Now my heart condemns me not,
Pure before the law I stand;
He who cleansed me from all spot,
Satisfied its last demand.

Refrain

Christ receiveth sinful men,
Even me with all my sin;
Purged from every spot and stain,
Heaven with Him I enter in.

Refrain

God... Are You serious....?????

They say confession is good for the soul.

This is the deal: I fell in love with the Bible study, What Love Is...(as everyone knows by now.) So when I finished it in early March, I immediately started right back on session 1. (As everyone knows by now...) And I loved it just as much as I had before!!! Week one and week two and the first three days of week three were great! Uplifting beyond words! Just like before!

But then...

The workbook and the Scripture didn't change but life did....

Suddenly a relative needed help while recovering from a nasty fall and subsequent surgery. I'm the only one in the family not working so I didn't hesitate to volunteer.

I knew everything would be a little different but it would only be for a few days; plus I'm a loving kind of people-person - so I really had no doubt that I could do it. I understood that the "patient" thinks my personal beliefs are unenlightened and that it's her job to educate me. And it's pretty obvious that she thinks she has the low down on every topic under the sun. (But I know she doesn't ... because, actually, I do... And since we hardly see eye to eye on anything we can't both be right.) And I knew that she was a bit demanding and not prone to express appreciation- although I'm sure she feels it. And I knew that she has a tendency to talk non-stop for,,,, well... hours at a time. But it would only be for a week or two at the most so while I wasn't jumping for joy over the temporary assignment, I wasn't too worried either.

In fact, looking back I can honestly say that the things that did cause me unease were mechanical issues such as how we would manage the bathroom thing. Or the eating thing. Or the being woozy-headed while walking thing. Or the re-bandaging the wound thing.

But I always fell back on this thought: it's only for a few days so how hard can it be?

Well, it's this hard: by the end of my third day of cheerful, selfless,loving care giving ( /= )I was literally wondering whose head I should beat against the wall - mine or hers... You may think I'm kidding but I assure you that I'm not.

And during the day before that, after one particularly testy and prolonged monologue where I received unwanted instruction on everything from A to Z, I opened my Bible Study workbook only to get this message: lack of love for a brother or sister is a sure sign that you are not in fellowship with God.

And I just wanted to look up at the Heavens and yell, "God! Are You SERIOUS???? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Do you KNOW what I'm having to put up with??? And besides that, SHE STARTS IT !!! EVERY SINGLE BLINKING TIME!!!! I DON'T BRING UP THE CONTROVERSIAL STUFF!!! AND I SURE DON'T EVER GET TO FINISH IT ... BECAUSE I CAN HARDLY GET A BLOOMING WORD IN EDGEWISE!!!!"

However, I didn't yell (out loud anyway). Instead I finished day four's lesson because I didn't want to fall behind...and took some aspirin...

Amazing how quickly a Bible passage can lose it's luster...

The next day's lesson was, truthfully, even worse. I opened my workbook and this appeared before my mutinous eyes: Jesus told us that there is no greater love than to lay down your life for someone else.

Seriously?? Lord, I am contemplating laying HER life down... not mine...

However, I quickly realized that it was okay because this passage would apply to someone who was in a war zone or a robbery or something like that and therefore was not likely to happen.

I resumed my lesson and the author got to me, as if she had been reading my torqued little mind. Basically I encountered words to this effect: if we just look at that verse in John as if it refers to our physical life only, we've missed the point. Having to die physically to protect someone is not likely to happen to most of us. Plus physical death is actually easier than laying your life down day by day in little ways and large ways for the sake of others.

I cried. Not a lot but enough to show me where my heart was. Tears of self-pity. Tears of wounded pride. Tears of selfishness.

Not repentant tears and not confessional tears.

I came face to face with my own heart and immediately looked away. Soon afterwards I went home (venting all the way), proceeded to eat chocolate (by the barrel full), and watched a movie (Jane Austen).

This morning was beautiful and the patient was sleeping so I sat outside on a screened-in porch, surrounded by the delightful music of birds in spring. I didn't have an excuse not to do my Bible study so after some procrastination (where I nursed my grudges from the previous days) I opened up my workbook (with some trepidation) and read this:

"You may be in a place where the Lord is calling you to lay your life down for another in a specific instance. If this is you - even if it seems like the most insignificant of ways - respond to God about what He's asking of you."

Well...I did...

My response took up a closely written page - I couldn't even begin to fit it into the answer space provided on the workbook page so I didn't even try. Ha!

And then I read the next question:

"You may need a deeper understanding of the love that God poured out on you. You'll never love others if you haven't first grasped His love. Spend more time asking the Lord to open your eyes to the way He's poured His love out for you."

"You'll never love others if you haven't first grasped His love..."

Okay, Lord, please open my eyes and show me Your love that you have poured out on me...

And this is what He showed me: this current trial was a lavish outpouring of His love...

I cried again. This time with repentance and gratitude. While He continued to open my eyes.

He showed me that it was His plan for this unpalatable task to clash with the very lesson I was working on at this exact time in this exact week,month,and year.

Not because He hates me (or my long-suffering in-law) but because He wanted the words on the printed page - guidance in truth and instruction in how to both receive love and give it away - He wanted those words to move from my head to my heart.

And because He wanted me to see the paucity of my own ability to love so that I would discard my pride and reach out for a deeper in-filling of His.

That's it. He just wanted to pour out more love on me and my pride was preventing Him from doing that. So He put me in a situation where pride had to go out the window.

Now that I've been a caregiver for a whacking four whole days, I can honestly say that I don't know how stuff like this ever works on the strictly human level - I tried and just couldn't make it happen without gritting my teeth and/or wanting to do bodily harm to the one I was supposed to be loving.

But now I know how it works on the supernatural level: you admit you stink at selfless loving. That's the first step. Then you ask Him to fill you up to the brim with His supernatural love until it just slops over onto those around you. That's it: step 1, step 2. He does the rest. (Note: you don't ask Him - through gritted teeth - to give you more love for the one who is driving you crazy - which is the way I had been going about it).

By the way, I highly recommend the Bible study - What Love Is... by Kelly Minter.

I just thought I'd mention it in case I haven't told you already...

Seriously...

Okay. I blame this on the fact that I stayed up last night until 1 a.m. working on a murder mystery plot. Seriously.

Today we were supposed to take a neighbor - a lady I'll call Y.. - to church. We've known each other for several years: she's funny, loves to work in her yard, and has a past which is really not... completely past. Earlier in the week I was talking to her about our church and she just asked me (out of the blue) when the service started and told me she really wanted to go.

She said her husband was having to work out of town this past week and although he would come home for the weekend, she just felt like she needed something to do and she'd been thinking about going back to church for a while. (She was raised in church as a kid but that was some decades ago).

I told her I would love to have her go with us. Before we quit visiting, she asked me to come over on Sunday and beat on her bedroom wall at 9 a.m. to make sure she was up and I told her that was no problem.

Last night I asked Phil to go with me to Y's house this morning because they have 3 forty pound dogs and I'm afraid of them. And Y's husband is really bad about leaving the doors unlatched (the dogs can push the front door open) and/or letting them out when people come to call. (Her husband is bi-polar - he's really nice when he's on his meds and not doing pot... However, when he's not on his meds he's a bit anti-social...)

So this morning Phil and I walk over to Y'.s house (me armed with a walking cane for whacking dogs with) and Phil knocks on her window. She doesn't respond so I start yelling her name and reminding her that we're going to church together. WE hear movement and then she comes to the door, obviously trying to wake up (I know how she feels...) She told us she didn't realize it was Sunday and asks what time she needs to be ready. We tell her that we'll be leaving in about an hour and she says that's fine, she'll be ready.

And she was. PHil and I usually travel in separate cars on Sunday morning so that he can serve at a local outreach center. So I pick Y. up - she's looking very nice, dressed appropriately (better than me actually). Her make up and hair look nice and her clothes are color coordinated. She's actually very artistic and I could learn a few things from her in that area, definitely. At any rate, she seems happy and immediately starts talking.

" My husband got home Friday night and he has to leave out again this afternoon for another week b/c they still have to finish up that welding job up in the Northern part of the state. So he asked me yesterday if I could turn him in for his outstanding warrant and when I asked him why, he said he didn't want to go back up North for a week to work, he likes the hotel room okay but he can't stand sharing a room with anybody else. So I told him the warrant he has right now would only get him a fine and wouldn't get him jail time so he needs to just plan on going back to work - he's only got a couple more weeks to go up there. But I may need to call his boss and see if they'll give him a hotel room by himself... If I can't borrow M.'s phone, could I borrow yours after church? My husband got me a phone but he hasn't put any minutes on it yet so it's not much good but at least I've got one..."

Hi Ho, Hi Ho... it's off to church we go...

During the service we're sitting there reading the Bible together, singing together (she has a beautiful voice), and hearing the Word preached. Phil and I both are praying silently like crazy for her, so thankful she's finally sitting in church with us after all these years. I hear her sniffling some during the music and feel sure God is working on her heart. And during one prayer we hold hands with each other - I'm thinking how awesome this is.

At the end of the service the youth leader gets up and announces some upcoming activities which include a paint ball event next Saturday for the teens and whoever else wants to come.

As we're leaving the church, I'm hoping she'll ask the pastor if she can talk to him about her spiritual life, etc. Really, I'm hoping she'll bust out with words like, "Could you tell me how to be saved??" NO ONE who goes to church with us from the 'Hood EVER says that. (Just once, Oh Lord, just once!!!)

Instead she tells him that next Saturday sounds great. I'm totally confused.

As we're walking out to the car, she elaborates. She tells me that she turns 50 on Sunday and that her 17th anniversary is next weekend as well and that the paintball thing on Saturday would be a great way to celebrate their wedding anniversary... if she can talk her husband into it.

I look at her and realize she is serious.

On the way home she talks about how she really needs to call her husband's boss and how she's pretty sure she can use M.'s phone. She thanks me for offering her lunch -Phil and I had hoped Y. and I could talk about  things over a quiet meal. However, she has left a pot roast in the oven and needs to get home. Then she tells me how nice it is to have a stove after several years of not having one. She explains that her friend, M., saw this stove sitting out behind a restaurant - obviously about to be discarded - and asked her if she wanted it and she said, "Sure" so they went and got it and it works great.

Then she switches from that to telling me about how one of her husband's friends has a criminal past - well, they all have criminal pasts - but this one gives her the collywoggles. And one day last summer, back when their electricity was turned off for several months, she was taking a long afternoon nap (because what else can you do when it's hot and the middle of the day and you don't have AC?) and she suddenly woke up to find this guy standing over her and she didn't know how he got in her house because altho she doesn't lock her door during the day, she has those three huge dogs who always alert whenever somebody comes onto their property. But they didn't alert this time and she doesn't know if the guy was wearing a pork chop around his neck or what - but he sure got past them that day. So if we see a certain vehicle in her drive while her husband is out of town, we should feel free to come over and beat on her door and check on her because this guy really makes her feel nervous because he's a serious offender, not like their other friends, most of which are just crazy.

All the while she's telling me this, I'm praying for an opening to ask her about spiritual things, etc. Finally, just before we get to her house, I interrupt the free flow of her conversation and mange to squeeze in a couple of sentences. I thank her for going to church with us, and tell her I hope she'll go back with us again next Sunday.

She told me she enjoyed the service, it was nice and relaxing and she didn't know why she cried during the music but she usually does. Anyway, she didn't know if she could go back next Sunday because it's her birthday and she might tie one on the night before but she really enjoyed getting to go today.

‪#‎Iamseriously‬,seriouslybeatingmyheadagainstabrickwall.Seriously...
‪#‎Backtothemurdermystery‬....

Antiquated would-be
worker in the  'hood....

Why Joy Doesn't Come...

I'm going to make a plug once again for Kelly Minter's study, What Love Is...

One reason I'm mentioning it again is because much of what I'm going to share came from video session 7 in that study and I want you to know where I got this spiritual insight - it didn't come from me.

I listened to the video last night and woke up thinking about it this morning. Kelly is a good story teller but the truths she reveals in those stories are profound, no matter how simple the story may sound on the surface.

In this session she talked about how she had been a practicing Christian - in Christ, Christ in her, into the Word, etc. - and yet...

And yet one day when she was jogging, she asked the Lord why there was no joy in her life and to her shock, this thought passed through her mind: because you have idols in your heart.

She immediately wanted to dismiss that thought but then God showed her that an idol is anything that dominates our thoughts and/or is something we feel we have to have in order to be happy. It is something that, when it doesn't go the way we want it to, we feel despondent or upset.

Well, I know that... Don't I?

But really, does that mean that carrying a grudge can be an idol? Or clinging to a relationship when it's not healthy - can that be an idol?

I began to think about it - what things occupy my thoughts? What things do I feel I have to have in order to be happy? What things cause a visceral gut reaction when I first realize that this or that may be suddenly taking a turn that I don't like and didn't expect?

Then Kelly goes on to talk about Mary of Bethany. And she brought out a progression in Mary's relationship with Jesus that I'd never seen before.

First Mary sat and listened to Jesus. We know that story probably - Martha is running around, busy, distracted, and frustrated. WHile Mary is sitting at the teacher's feet,listening, absorbing, learning. Why? Because she doesn't like to wash dishes or cook? (Um... that would be me, actually...)

No. Because, as Jesus explains to Martha, what Mary is absorbing will never be taken from her. Ever. Not by old age, Alzheimer, or even death. And somehow Mary "got that". So she opted for something that was not an idol, something that couldn't disappoint her.

But then we see her beside the body of her dead brother. Jesus has a plan but she doesn't know that. And she is deeply grieving. And deeply disappointed. Really rocked to the core of her being.

And then Martha comes to her and says what Kelly said may be the most beautiful words in Scripture: "The teacher is here and he's calling for you."

And inspite of her deep disappointment, Mary gets up and goes to Jesus. Only this time she doesn't sit at his feet,smiling, and learning. No. She throws herself at his feet and blurts out her anguish, "Lord, if You had been here then _______________ wouldn't have happened." Scripture doesn't leave a blank there - Mary is specific: if You had been here, my brother wouldn't have died. But I put a blank there because, as Kelly says, we probably all have that cry in our hearts somewhere,harking back to a recent event or even maybe to a long ago event where we just got stuck. Our spiritual heart got mired in the quicksand of, "Lord, if you had been here... " then... my marriage wouldn't have turned to dust, my finances wouldn't have failed, this venture wouldn't have folded before it's time, my kid wouldn't have done this or that, my loved one wouldn't have died, my health wouldn't have gone South, etc.

So, even though all Mary could see was apparent failure as well as  a wall of grief that she could not get around and which couldn't possibly lead to anything good, she still went to the Master, fell at His feet and poured out her grief. "IF only You had been here, then....

Finally, we see her one more time - this time kneeling at the feet of Jesus, breaking a bottle of priceless perfume/oil and pouring out this expensive liquid over Jesus' feet. Spikenard was used to prepare a body for burial and that is what Mary is doing. Once again, she gets it. What Jesus teaches and what He gives, the way He loves and guides - all of that is lasting. It won't be taken away from her.

And she understands. HE is the resurrection and the life. She knows it. She's seen it..

Hence she is thrilled to give everything she has to Him in an extravagant act of love. Because she knows Him and she knows what He is worth.

Sitting at His feet, learning. Throwing ourselves at His feet, when life takes a turn we didn't expect or want. Pouring out our treasure at His feet in joyful surrender.

And no room for false idols along the way.