Blue

I feel blue today. I guess we've all been there a time or two. Something will happen, a word is spoken or circumstances end up changing - and we find ourselves needing to be scooped up off the floor. Sometimes, it isn't even necessarily anything that has "happened". At times, it will have nothing to do with anybody else - other than us and God.

My relationship with Him - it's so intimate so sacred. God knows everything there is to know about me . . . and He loves me no less. It is difficult for me to comprehend the magnitude of His forgiveness and grace. Each time I blow it (and I blow it often), He is always there to help pick up the pieces. Every painful experience strangely draws me closer to Him.

God welcomes me with open arms for times I feel the need to crawl into His lap. Once again, I feel like being quiet today. The noise inside my head is enough for me to process. There is a lesson I hope to learn through this rain cloud - and I don't want to miss it.

God always speaks the loudest through my pain. It is in those hurtful times that lessons are re-enforced and my heart gets molded beneath the pounding of His fists. They are loving blows, mind you, for my Father promises to prosper and not to harm me. The molding and shaping, the furnace full of fire - this is all a part of the purification process.

I bow at the feet of the One issuing instruction today. Be gentle sweet Savior, as I'm poured out for You.

Awestruck

There have been times in my life when I've felt the need to be still and quiet. In these places, I will find myself in unspeakable awe of the glory and majesty of God. This awareness will come through wrenching pain on some days, and then on others it arrives in a neatly decorated package of joy.

Today is one of those days. I sit to write, and I know that getting what's inside of my heart down on paper would be close to impossible. Floating around in my head are worlds colliding - and all I can do is sit still, wait and breathe. Healing, wholeness and grace reign in this magnificent pocket of time and space.

I've got a lot of things scheduled for today as my mind rests on a cloud. First off, I have to secure some plans for a meeting with my ladies next week. Then I am having lunch with dear friend. A bit later my Dad will be making a trip over for Grandparents Day. Then we have small group tonight, where I will get the opportunity to torture everyone with my rendition of worship.

Through the busyness, and all the while, I sit dumbfounded - in absolute wonder. God will usually get my attention in the most surprising ways. This time, I find no real words to describe my whereabouts.

I am too stunned to speak, too awestruck to compose a legible sentence. Just when I think my heart might explode from the excitement surrounding me, God decides to take me on another turn. The incredible descent begins, and before I know it I am upside down, screaming my head off with delight.

There will be no stories today about fire hydrants or cookie recipes. Oh yes, each one will be a part of my day - no doubt. But that is not what has gotten this girl's attention. Every neatly tucked folder of my life is being overturned by God's goodness and grace, and I can think of nothing else.

No wonder I struggle to find words today. How can one write about the intangible? For what has captured my heart today, doesn't have anything to do with what can be seen.

Only a heart could discern such infinite love.

Butterfly Effect

As I continue to read up on the story of Benaiah, I get more and more encouraged the further I get. I don't know if it is because I feel I have so much in common with this guy. It could have to do with the fact that I am getting used to the idea of sticking my neck out. Could "the uncomfortable" really be getting more comfortable?

Something was made mention of in my reading last night. It is a phrase I had heard before, but was not very familiar with. It is called The Butterfly Effect. And without getting up out of my chair to walk into the other room and get my book, I will attempt to explain this concept.

If I remember correctly, the concept was formed while doing some scientific research on the affect of a butterflies' flutter. It was proven that one puff of a butterflies wings could potentially change the air so much that it would be able to alter the course of a weather pattern.

Then the book goes on to talk about how significant our choices can be, and how every decision we make alters the course of history. Whether we want to admit it or not, our decisions affect other people - in big and in small ways. We can choose to bless, or we can choose to curse. One choice invites room for the Holy Spirit to live and breath, while the other can give the enemy a foothold.

So what do your butterfly wings say about you today? Are you giving more than you are taking? Does your attitude need adjusting? Are you crumbling underneath the weight of fear? Is there somebody you need to reconcile with? If so, what are you waiting for?

Your decisions affect not only those around you, but they also affect you. What will your destiny be? It's your choice you know. You can either cooperate with the God of the universe, or push against Him in blindness and misery. But always know that He loves you regardless of what you choose.

Don't settle for complaining about what is wrong with this or with that. Determine to become a part of the solution, one puff at a time. Like Benaiah, face that fear, confront that person - take that thought captive for good.

I implore you . . . like the butterfly, move with the beauty and grace of the Spirit. There is a rainbow of God's promises chasing that insurmountable obstacle, which often times is called - a storm.

Humble Painter

As I sat in my office to work on some things yesterday morning, I noticed a fellow was heading toward our house. Despising door-to-door salesmen, I cringed at the thought of the door bell ringing. My heart began to race. I don't like it when people come to the door when Mark is not home. More times than not, I won't answer the door - regardless of the fact that the person can see right through the beveled glass.

I stayed at my post, watching him carefully park his bike on the sidewalk and walk up the driveway. Clearly he was targeting our house, because he wasn't doing the normal neighborhood rounds. As he came closer, I froze and held my breath. Knowing that he probably couldn't see me through my office window, I wasn't about to take any chances.

I waited . . . there was no knock. No ring of the doorbell. And just as quickly as he passed my window moving in - he passed to leave. He proceeded to jump on his bike, and rode away in stride.

You may be wondering why I choose to write about this today. Big deal, a painter came and left a brochure on my doorstep. What's so special about that? Well, let me tell you why it was so significant for me.

See, months earlier, Mark and I were thinking about getting the exterior of our home painted. We we wanted to get an idea of how much it would cost. So "Mr. Painter" was one of the estimates we received.

I remember being really impressed with this guy. He handled himself in a very professional manner. He seemed to really know his stuff, offering advice and communicating his availability. With manual tools and the use of a pencil and paper, he was able to draw up a pretty reasonable estimate. He was a one man show, who was in business for himself just trying to make ends meet. I respected him for that.

A week or so later, Mark and I ended up getting one more estimate, from a much larger and more popular painting company in town. A very talkative and personable guy came buzzing in with all of the bells and whistles. He had a computer-looking device that took all of his measurements and calculated everything for him. He spoke of the extensive staff they had, fancy office accommodations and an unprecedented reputation.

Was I impressed? I guess a little bit - that is, until I saw the price. Mark and I put our foot down right away, and we managed to bring the estimate down somewhat. But the timing wasn't right for either one of these painters to be hired, so needless to say the project has been put on hold.

Since these two estimates, I have received at least a dozen calls from this more established company. A secretary will call me about every three weeks or so, to see if we are ready to get things going. My reply has always been, "No, not yet. We are just not ready to take this step."

Now Mr. Painter on the other hand . . . aside from one follow-up phone call, hasn't tried to reach us at all. Yesterday's drop of the brochure was the first time I'd heard from him in months. Now in spirit of "salesmanship", I would have to say that the larger company was more on top of things. They had better equipment, more experience and good follow-up, which is probably why they are so successful.

But as Mr. Painter rode away yesterday, something stirred inside that sealed my commitment with this lone ranger. He wasn't breaking my door down or ringing my phone off the hook trying to make a sale. I saw a very humble and tactful man simply working to make a living. As he drove off, I envisioned a family waiting at home, ready to cheer him on.

Mr. Painter may view us as just another lead, but I can't say that I view him as just another painter. While most consumers may look at all of the fancy gadgets and gizmos, and be impressed with all of the networking and overhead . . . I happen to serve a God who looks at the heart.

By far, this humble painter has earned not only my blessing - but my sale too.

Inspired

I feel inspired today. This is a day very much like all of the others. I got out of bed, gathered little monkeys and all of their paraphernalia and shipped them off to school. Makayla and I spent most of the morning with some new friends we met from her class. (Makayla has made a new friend, and I've made friends with her mommy - double bonus.)

Then I made my way into the church for a meeting. After that, I rushed to school to get the kids. I came home, started homework, ran an errand, dropped Matthew at karate, and began my meal preparation. As dinner simmers, I will take a few minutes to share the depths of my soul.

Once in a great while, God will grab my attention with the words and actions of another. My sweet Jesus has been versing me on valiance and standing for what it right. From ministry to family, I have been given ample opportunities to sharpen "skills of courage". I can't say I have any of it mastered, but it is so good to get confirmation from different places.

God has been confirming this new lesson through His precious Word, through whispers of His Spirit, through conversations, books I am reading - even movies I am catching. But the most remarkable examples are the real-live lived out in the flesh kinds of happenings.

Many times God will give me an object lesson, and then plant somebody in my path to reinforce His teaching. Today I felt God nudge me with His elbow and say something like this, "See, this is what I am talking about. See the risk this person is taking? This is what I am asking you to do."

I am choosing to be mysterious about who inspired me today, for the sake of prudence. But I will say that a man I have sat under the teaching of for eight years - took a very risky plunge today. I could hardly believe what I was hearing . . . but he spoke with conviction, passion and determination. All coupled with a heaping dose of humility and uncertainty.

Sound like a paradox? I wholeheartedly agree! And that's what makes it so great. God used this person to model these things today: a certainty of the direction we should be taking, with no plan in place - and - the conviction of what it means to love and give grace, but with no examples. On the surface, one might have considered it a wrestling of sorts, but I saw something so much different.

From where I sat, the wrestling part of things had already been taken care of. There was nothing to struggle over anymore - for surrender had already been decided. Doing things God's way invited uncertainty to the greatest degree.

Fellow warrior, I commend you today for setting the example we should all be following. Nothing inspires a heart more, than seeing somebody "walking the talk".

This Tuesday afternoon, a select few of us witnessed the first few steps of the most amazing and unforgettable journey . . . and we've been given a choice.

Will we jump too?

Scratch

There is something so redeeming about the idea of starting from scratch. Whether you are trying to re-create grandma's blueberry pie, or you are calling a truce in a relationship that's gone sour . . . the God we serve loves to start from the ground up.

I've been thinking a lot about this concept lately, pondering the vastness of God's forgiveness and grace. While the enemy points a gnarly finger at all of the places I've messed up, God's loving hand extends, only to pick me up and dust me off. I never hear a condemning remark come out of His mouth. God never kicks me when I'm down - or laughs at my pain.

So who is doing the kicking and the laughing? I do realize that we have a very real and angry enemy, who roams around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Is it him? Perhaps at times. I also know that the people we come in contact with can sometimes be unfeeling and cruel. Are they the ones doing the kicking? I don't think so. Many times their offenses are not premeditated and the communication gap just needs closing.

So who is the snickerer in the corner? I think a lot of times my greatest enemy lies within myself. Anybody with me on this? Who else knows us better than the person staring us in the mirror? I am with "me" 24 hours, 7 days a week. There are no breaks away from myself really. Even in my sleep, I am bombarded with insecurities and fears that will manifest themselves through some pretty bizarre dreams.

The "me" inside will often times give in to a very limiting and strangling point of view. It saps me of joy and then to top things off, I will give myself a good kick of guilt after I have blown it for the hundredth time.

Why do I write about all of this today? Well, let's just say that there are some ghosts haunting me from my past, packaged in some of the family members I love most. Like many people, I grew up in a very dysfunctional environment. And at times it can still get the best of me . . . that is, if I let it.

Back ten years ago, when this frightened shell of a person stepped out of darkness into the light, I became a new creation. I am not the same person I was when I participated in my family's madness. God has healed some pretty deep wounds. He has saved me hundreds of times from my own stupidity, and I have the promise of becoming more and more like Christ every day.

So why this struggle now, all of these years later? I'll put it a couple of different ways. Because it isn't easy to swim against the current. You've probably heard it said, "You can't teach an old dog new tricks." And my favorites? You'll never change, you'll always be stuck here. You might as well get used to it.

If I sound down and cynical today, it's just because some of the toxin has rubbed off. It usually takes me a day or so to de-tox . . . but my resilience strengthens with every bout. God is so wonderfully faithful.

The God I love and serve sees only beauty when He looks at me. Why is it so hard for me to see what He sees? That has been my prayer today.

Lord, show me what You see. From where You're seated, I'll bet the view is breathtaking - scattering mockers for miles - for Your Word says that when you look at me, You see Jesus. Forgive the cynic in me who cannot see further than a couple of feet in front of her face. In your tenderness this broken heart is always given one more chance start from scratch. I am eternally grateful for you Jesus. You have rescued me from unimaginable peril.

The fall . . . when is the last time you found yourself down on the ground? It smarts doesn't it? And it will often times catch a person off guard.

Looks like it's time for some dusting off. Back to the drawing board.

Winning Team

Today was wonderfully relaxing - we went to Mike and Jan's for the afternoon. They will often times invite the family over on a holiday weekend just like this one. With every visit, we are treated like royalty . . . fed like kings and queens, made to feel comfortable and taken care of down to the last detail. Whether it's fruit snacks out of the pantry, or an extra chair from the closet - my mother and father-in law have hospitality perfected.

Like I mentioned, when we get together - we eat. It starts with irresistible munchies as soon as we walk through the door. Now this is no cheese and crackers I'm talking about. Janice makes the most incredible artichoke dip. She will have salsa sprinkled with cheese, olives, pickles, peppers . . . you name it. It's easy to fill up during this appetizing jubilee. Often times I do, but somehow there is always room for the main course a couple of hours later.

Barbecue chicken and tri-tip cooked to perfection lined the kitchen counter. Uncle Larry's tantalizing potatoes, salad with all the fixings, watermelon, cantaloupe, fresh pineapple and french bread - all in a row. Like I said - a meal fit for a king. And then, an hour or so later, we had our choice of top of the line desserts. Today, we had peach cobbler and berry pie a la mode. It was incredible.

When Mark's family gets together, the men always pull a card table out for a friendly game of Rook. Learning how to play Rook was practically a prerequisite to marrying into the family. Mark has always been a gamer - he just loves play with folks who are as competitive as he is. His family fits the bill.

While the women sit and have coffee - the men spend hours playing Rook. This is normally a very male dominated game, but lately, I have been able to break in as a substitute. If somebody has to leave - I get my chance. I just love being a part of the team . . . even with all of the teasing. (I've learned through the years that the teasing means I am loved.)

The hope of getting the right hand of cards, and the challenge of knowing how to play them . . . it really gets my juices flowing. Being a little bit competitive myself (an attribute I picked up at the altar), I love getting in there and winning a hand or two.

Today, Ken (Mark's uncle) and I were on the winning team, which made it great fun. I high fived my new partner on the way out the door. We were ruthless, cunning, wise and well, the truth is, more times than not - we were just lucky. But what's the use of winning without being able to gloat a little?

Aside from being filled to the gills this evening with the top of the line cuisine, I am also able to enjoy the sweet smell of victory.

This Labor Day weekend, I felt God's love embrace me with the simple pleasure of family - through the hospitality of a man who happened to be on the losing team.