As I drove into Morgan Hill this afternoon for a visit with my Mom, I was presented with a choice. Should I drive straight through to Morgan Hill? Or will I face the cold hard truth of the Gilroy house, knowing that it no longer belongs to our family?
I went back and forth for about a minute. Part of me wanted to leave my memories the way they were. Organized, warm and controlled. But there was another part, the piece that God want to bring complete healing to, that caused me to take that left turn.
I drove past Gilroy High School, and then Christmas Hill Park. My pulse quickened as I turned onto Westwood. Then a left, and we headed toward Third Street. The 20 or so miles per hour that I was driving seemed like light speed. Any pace would have felt too fast.
I inched past the Pavia's house on the left, Tonya's old house to follow - and then I saw it. Parked on the corner of Third and Santa Paula was the Gilroy house, just as it has always been. Same tree in the front yard, same color of paint. But strangely, that was all that felt familiar. Everything else looked so bare.
My Mom's car no longer graced the driveway. There were different cars parked in front. A ladder stood crookedly on the front porch, making the place look unfinished. Window coverings were drawn, which would have never ever happened with my family. The rose bushes in the front of the house - gone. The Starr Jasmine that so cheerfully welcomed any visitor was nowhere to be found.
My heart sunk. Everything beautiful about our home had sadly disappeared. I wonder if these new people understood that the sweet smell of jasmine had welcomed me home for over a quarter of a century. I doubt it was ever even considered.
As I drove away, sadness and resentment melted into excitement. (This is what the God of my heart does best. He will take a pile of ashes, and make them beautiful.) Of course, this new family was stripping away some of the extras, so that they could add some extras of their own. I'm sure they had their own ideas about what would make the place look homey. Rosebushes probably just weren't their thing, and that's okay. Heading towards Morgan Hill, I prayed a blessing over this new family, who had chipped away at my heart.
I felt a bit of displacement with a strange bit of reassurance mixed in. Driving away, like I had done so many times before, felt more permanent than ever. My Mom wasn't waving from the front porch. I had no promise of ever returning, in fact there was no chance of it. I felt content to say good-bye to the place I used to call home. No glance back this time, for I chose to keep the old memories in the forefront of my mind.
Driving up to my Mom's new place moments later, cemented everything together. God has taught me so much through this storm. Home is not an address. It is not a rosebush or even a memory of a rosebush. Home is where love resides. And amazingly, love is fluid, unpredictable and even at times really difficult to face.
This is what it means to be held . . . when the sacred is torn from your life, and you survive. The overwhelming redemption of the love of Christ, makes every glance back at the joy and the pain - worth it all.
Saturday, November 10
Friday, November 9
Quest
Mark and I have chosen quite a quest tonight. No, we are not climbing half dome, nor does this feat include a high wire trapeze or swallowing knives. Instead, we have opened our home to six boys . . . all for Matthew's slumber party.
I can remember my slumber parties when I was a young girl. It was always so much fun trying to stay up all night. We would watch scary movies and talk about boys. It was the one night where rules like "having a bed time" were left by the way side. Candy and soda past ten, even some prank calls, and lots and lots of giggling. All that we couldn't control about life was handed to us in those twilight hours.
Tonight Mark and I decided that we would take the boys to Laser Quest. On the way up to Modesto, the kids broke themselves up into two teams and began talking about strategies. One team was in Mark's car, the other one in mine. With Makayla and I being the only girls, we just shrugged our shoulders and tried to pretend like we cared.
When it was time to enter the tagging area, she took one look at the green monster painted on the black lit wall and we knew we needed to stay behind. Her and I enjoyed a nice game of air hockey instead.
All of this got me thinking. I've been on a quest of sorts for some time now, trying to find my way through this maze of life. I've done my best to suit up and be prepared. I've tried to figure out which team to pour my efforts into, but I'm finding that in God's eyes teams are too divisive. The idea of oneness and family is more His style.
As I step onto the battlefield of life, I do my best to listen to instructions first, but I can't always remember the safety rules. I discover hundreds of hairy green monsters with orange eyes and large fangs just waiting to pounce. Around every corner there always seems to be something that wants to take me down. Doubt, hopelessness, hurt feelings . . . and the mortal blow - an unforgiving heart.
I do have a healthy respect for this spiritual battle I speak of. I understand that the stakes are very high, and that the salvation and purity of souls is no game. Like laser tag, you can get hit when you are least expecting it. But there are also times when you find yourself up on a higher level with the advantage of a better view. You win some and you lose some as you take a stand for Christ.
And like those wee morning hours during a slumber party, there is such a sweet freedom in winning and losing with the heart of a child. Knowing that our Lord Jesus Christ holds the victory promotes awe and wonder . . .
ushering in the joy of a few giggles.
I can remember my slumber parties when I was a young girl. It was always so much fun trying to stay up all night. We would watch scary movies and talk about boys. It was the one night where rules like "having a bed time" were left by the way side. Candy and soda past ten, even some prank calls, and lots and lots of giggling. All that we couldn't control about life was handed to us in those twilight hours.
Tonight Mark and I decided that we would take the boys to Laser Quest. On the way up to Modesto, the kids broke themselves up into two teams and began talking about strategies. One team was in Mark's car, the other one in mine. With Makayla and I being the only girls, we just shrugged our shoulders and tried to pretend like we cared.
When it was time to enter the tagging area, she took one look at the green monster painted on the black lit wall and we knew we needed to stay behind. Her and I enjoyed a nice game of air hockey instead.
All of this got me thinking. I've been on a quest of sorts for some time now, trying to find my way through this maze of life. I've done my best to suit up and be prepared. I've tried to figure out which team to pour my efforts into, but I'm finding that in God's eyes teams are too divisive. The idea of oneness and family is more His style.
As I step onto the battlefield of life, I do my best to listen to instructions first, but I can't always remember the safety rules. I discover hundreds of hairy green monsters with orange eyes and large fangs just waiting to pounce. Around every corner there always seems to be something that wants to take me down. Doubt, hopelessness, hurt feelings . . . and the mortal blow - an unforgiving heart.
I do have a healthy respect for this spiritual battle I speak of. I understand that the stakes are very high, and that the salvation and purity of souls is no game. Like laser tag, you can get hit when you are least expecting it. But there are also times when you find yourself up on a higher level with the advantage of a better view. You win some and you lose some as you take a stand for Christ.
And like those wee morning hours during a slumber party, there is such a sweet freedom in winning and losing with the heart of a child. Knowing that our Lord Jesus Christ holds the victory promotes awe and wonder . . .
ushering in the joy of a few giggles.
Thursday, November 8
Emptying
Today was an emptying kind of day. There was a little pour of myself here, a drop or two there. All in a good day's work.
Not really too much to say today. As I step away from the office to enjoy a nice long weekend, I struggle with putting some of the mental work down. Projects still pending, unfinished business . . . the pushing paper part I have no problem with letting go of. It is the people part that I find lingering.
This is the part that sometimes makes ministry so heavy. People who are hurting that weigh heavy on my heart. Circumstances out of my control - a deep desire to do the best that I can. God knows that I have finished my work week the best way I know how. Now it is time to take that much needed break.
I have surrendered every burden to the One I know will keep things in His safe keeping. I will unload again and again, until my shoulders begin feeling a little bit lighter. It is so great to talk to the Lord about my concerns. He is never in a hurry, never too busy or unconcerned. What a Wonderful Counselor He has been.
So just as I have emptied myself throughout the day, it's time to empty all of the stress and strain I have picked up along the way. I take in a refreshing breath of hope as I step into the weekend, knowing that I'm held by the One who holds it all.
Not really too much to say today. As I step away from the office to enjoy a nice long weekend, I struggle with putting some of the mental work down. Projects still pending, unfinished business . . . the pushing paper part I have no problem with letting go of. It is the people part that I find lingering.
This is the part that sometimes makes ministry so heavy. People who are hurting that weigh heavy on my heart. Circumstances out of my control - a deep desire to do the best that I can. God knows that I have finished my work week the best way I know how. Now it is time to take that much needed break.
I have surrendered every burden to the One I know will keep things in His safe keeping. I will unload again and again, until my shoulders begin feeling a little bit lighter. It is so great to talk to the Lord about my concerns. He is never in a hurry, never too busy or unconcerned. What a Wonderful Counselor He has been.
So just as I have emptied myself throughout the day, it's time to empty all of the stress and strain I have picked up along the way. I take in a refreshing breath of hope as I step into the weekend, knowing that I'm held by the One who holds it all.
Wednesday, November 7
Strawberry Dive
Okay, I have to fess up today. I did something absolutely unthinkable from a five year old's perspective. It was cold-hearted, cut to the chase, action oriented favoritism (if you will). But it just had to be done.
I posted a while back about a strawberry plant that Makayla had brought home. My illustration was about how quickly the plant was growing. It's lush little leaves poking through the powdered dirt. One branch, and then another all in a matter of hours. I was amazed at how quickly the thing blossomed.
But it wasn't long before the green parts started turning brown, and then black. Like some kind of a disease, the dark color started from one tip and worked it's way down each stem all the way to the other side of the plant. Clearly, there was something I was doing wrong. Too much water, or maybe not enough. I really couldn't tell you - but what I can say is that my black thumb took a toll.
So while Makayla was distracted, I grabbed the clunky looking pot and proceeded to send it to it's grave. My footsteps were quiet and quick. The trash can was close . . . almost there . . . when I heard Makayla's voice through the window. At first, I thought it was my conscience.
"Mommy, you are not going to throw that away, are you?"
I stopped dead in my tracks. I was caught - there was nowhere to hide. Tiny little footsteps patted through the house into the back yard. I was met face to face with the plant's advocate.
I explained to Makayla that her little strawberry plant wasn't doing well. I told her that sometimes plants do really well, and other times they just up and die. I saw her face change from disgruntled eyebrows to a soft smile. She understood.
I agreed to let her keep the other pot that was sent home (that hasn't shown any sign of life yet). She was content to work on that one for a while, so with her blessing I tossed the strawberry plant.
I got to thinking about how this was a great lesson for me. A lot of times, I will want to build something quickly. A seed of an idea gets planted, and overnight I am expecting to see some fruit. God was showing me through the death and life of this plant, that sometimes things work out and sometimes they just don't. It's okay to let some of the things go that are withering and no longer full of life.
So what do you have to let go of today? Was it once a dream of yours, and lately it seems to lay limp and lifeless? Maybe God has another pot seated close by that hasn't shown any sign of life yet. This new pot may very well be filled with something that has deeper meaning, something that will last longer - like that acorn.
God has planted an acorn deep within those who are willing to live for Him. One strawberry plant after another will have to be chucked aside from time to time. It may seem cruel to some, but it serves a good purpose.
Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. ~ Matthew 7:19
Lord, may our focus be on that which is lasting, and eternal.
I posted a while back about a strawberry plant that Makayla had brought home. My illustration was about how quickly the plant was growing. It's lush little leaves poking through the powdered dirt. One branch, and then another all in a matter of hours. I was amazed at how quickly the thing blossomed.
But it wasn't long before the green parts started turning brown, and then black. Like some kind of a disease, the dark color started from one tip and worked it's way down each stem all the way to the other side of the plant. Clearly, there was something I was doing wrong. Too much water, or maybe not enough. I really couldn't tell you - but what I can say is that my black thumb took a toll.
So while Makayla was distracted, I grabbed the clunky looking pot and proceeded to send it to it's grave. My footsteps were quiet and quick. The trash can was close . . . almost there . . . when I heard Makayla's voice through the window. At first, I thought it was my conscience.
"Mommy, you are not going to throw that away, are you?"
I stopped dead in my tracks. I was caught - there was nowhere to hide. Tiny little footsteps patted through the house into the back yard. I was met face to face with the plant's advocate.
I explained to Makayla that her little strawberry plant wasn't doing well. I told her that sometimes plants do really well, and other times they just up and die. I saw her face change from disgruntled eyebrows to a soft smile. She understood.
I agreed to let her keep the other pot that was sent home (that hasn't shown any sign of life yet). She was content to work on that one for a while, so with her blessing I tossed the strawberry plant.
I got to thinking about how this was a great lesson for me. A lot of times, I will want to build something quickly. A seed of an idea gets planted, and overnight I am expecting to see some fruit. God was showing me through the death and life of this plant, that sometimes things work out and sometimes they just don't. It's okay to let some of the things go that are withering and no longer full of life.
So what do you have to let go of today? Was it once a dream of yours, and lately it seems to lay limp and lifeless? Maybe God has another pot seated close by that hasn't shown any sign of life yet. This new pot may very well be filled with something that has deeper meaning, something that will last longer - like that acorn.
God has planted an acorn deep within those who are willing to live for Him. One strawberry plant after another will have to be chucked aside from time to time. It may seem cruel to some, but it serves a good purpose.
Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. ~ Matthew 7:19
Lord, may our focus be on that which is lasting, and eternal.
Tuesday, November 6
Choice
As I sat in some leadership training this afternoon, and was challenged with a choice. It is something that presents itself to me quite often, in fact it would even be safe to say that I get tested every time I come in contact with another human being. Even if that person happens to be myself.
This has been a big lesson for me. A lot of times when I am not quite getting something, God will bring the lesson around lots of different ways. It will be through one circumstance looking one way, and then weeks later the same lesson will appear in a different form. God is so gentle and patient with me, never hitting me over the head with what He is trying to get across. Instead, He just takes me for another round - until I finally get it. Then of course, there are the endless reminders.
Something that spoke to me today was the idea of how we view other people. We all have a choice. Will we focus on their strengths or their weaknesses? It may not sound like a very big deal, but how we view somebody else will directly affect the way that we treat them. It is easy to see another person's flaws - I mean nobody is perfect. But to discern and seek out the beauty in somebody else, this is that God kind of love that the world is dying for. It speaks volumes.
We all have a choice. Will you be a blessing or a curse? Seeing the good in somebody means loving them - and to love means that you are taking a risk. When you make a decision to love, then there is always that chance that you might get hurt. Nobody likes to be vulnerable, but as followers of Christ we are encouraged to give our lives away. And pouring yourself out is exactly that - being emptied of you.
Like I said before, people are fallible, and because of that there are no guarantees. People make mistakes and wounds are inevitable. But love covers it all. Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all sins. ~ Proverbs 10:12
To see others as God does . . . what a view it would be. Lord, grind me as fine as powder, send me into the fiery furnace, mold me into the image of Your choosing - and use me as You see fit,
. . . for the only right choice is YOU.
This has been a big lesson for me. A lot of times when I am not quite getting something, God will bring the lesson around lots of different ways. It will be through one circumstance looking one way, and then weeks later the same lesson will appear in a different form. God is so gentle and patient with me, never hitting me over the head with what He is trying to get across. Instead, He just takes me for another round - until I finally get it. Then of course, there are the endless reminders.
Something that spoke to me today was the idea of how we view other people. We all have a choice. Will we focus on their strengths or their weaknesses? It may not sound like a very big deal, but how we view somebody else will directly affect the way that we treat them. It is easy to see another person's flaws - I mean nobody is perfect. But to discern and seek out the beauty in somebody else, this is that God kind of love that the world is dying for. It speaks volumes.
We all have a choice. Will you be a blessing or a curse? Seeing the good in somebody means loving them - and to love means that you are taking a risk. When you make a decision to love, then there is always that chance that you might get hurt. Nobody likes to be vulnerable, but as followers of Christ we are encouraged to give our lives away. And pouring yourself out is exactly that - being emptied of you.
Like I said before, people are fallible, and because of that there are no guarantees. People make mistakes and wounds are inevitable. But love covers it all. Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all sins. ~ Proverbs 10:12
To see others as God does . . . what a view it would be. Lord, grind me as fine as powder, send me into the fiery furnace, mold me into the image of Your choosing - and use me as You see fit,
. . . for the only right choice is YOU.
Monday, November 5
Much-Afraid
Last night I decided to nestle my nose into one of my favorite books of all time. "Hinds' Feet on High Places", by Hannah Hurnard. If you haven't read it - I encourage you to make the trip to Borders. You won't be disappointed.
I read this book years ago with a mentor friend of mine. We went through each page, each paragraph and every juicy sentence - together. We shared comments, pondered thoughts and became more intimate with our Shepherd than ever before. There was something about God all of those years ago that took my breath away. I began to experience the same wooing again last night.
Without giving too much away, well . . . I will tell you what the book cover says: This book is a beautiful allegory dramatizing the yearning of God's children to be led to new heights of love, joy and victory. Follow Much-Afraid on her spiritual journey through difficult places with her two companions, Sorrow and Suffering. Learn how Much-Afraid overcomes her tormenting fears as she passes through many dangers and mounts at last to the High Places. There she gains a new name and returns to her valley of service, transformed by her union with the loving Shepherd.
It is truly a masterpiece. My heart quickens with thoughts of how the story unfolds. Before I retired last night, I finished the chapter on pride, where one of her very distant relatives, who is called Pride, tries to convince Much-Afraid that the climb is not worth it. He plants seeds of doubt, causing Much-Afraid to be confused and more afraid than ever. With one call to the Shepherd, he is at her side, and the Fearlings (Much-Afraid's relatives) have to flee. So Pride tucked his tail between his legs and headed for the nearest exit. It was great.
As I pick up this book years later, I find myself in a different season but with the same desire - to know my Shepherd better. Like Much-Afraid, I too have crippled feet and a terribly disfigured face. But with the Shepherd's touch, I am made beautiful. And even more than that, I am made loveable - worthy of love.
I'd like to write more, but I think I'd rather spend the rest of the evening curled up next to my husband. The next chapter talks about a detour through the desert.
Hmmm . . . I've been traipsing through a bit of sand lately. Can't wait to discover the parallel.
I read this book years ago with a mentor friend of mine. We went through each page, each paragraph and every juicy sentence - together. We shared comments, pondered thoughts and became more intimate with our Shepherd than ever before. There was something about God all of those years ago that took my breath away. I began to experience the same wooing again last night.
Without giving too much away, well . . . I will tell you what the book cover says: This book is a beautiful allegory dramatizing the yearning of God's children to be led to new heights of love, joy and victory. Follow Much-Afraid on her spiritual journey through difficult places with her two companions, Sorrow and Suffering. Learn how Much-Afraid overcomes her tormenting fears as she passes through many dangers and mounts at last to the High Places. There she gains a new name and returns to her valley of service, transformed by her union with the loving Shepherd.
It is truly a masterpiece. My heart quickens with thoughts of how the story unfolds. Before I retired last night, I finished the chapter on pride, where one of her very distant relatives, who is called Pride, tries to convince Much-Afraid that the climb is not worth it. He plants seeds of doubt, causing Much-Afraid to be confused and more afraid than ever. With one call to the Shepherd, he is at her side, and the Fearlings (Much-Afraid's relatives) have to flee. So Pride tucked his tail between his legs and headed for the nearest exit. It was great.
As I pick up this book years later, I find myself in a different season but with the same desire - to know my Shepherd better. Like Much-Afraid, I too have crippled feet and a terribly disfigured face. But with the Shepherd's touch, I am made beautiful. And even more than that, I am made loveable - worthy of love.
I'd like to write more, but I think I'd rather spend the rest of the evening curled up next to my husband. The next chapter talks about a detour through the desert.
Hmmm . . . I've been traipsing through a bit of sand lately. Can't wait to discover the parallel.
Sunday, November 4
Hear
If you have been checking in now and then, you are well aware of the fact that I find myself in kind of a strange place. There is nothing really very familiar about where I am standing - in fact, I can't say that I have ever stepped foot along such a path before.
Through some of my posts, and some pretty broken up conversations, I have created descriptions of ambiguity, and confusion - a not knowing where to go. Well, yesterday, God reminded me that I very much do have the answer . . . the piece to this great big puzzle of life. That piece my friends, is Jesus. Nothing added, nothing taken away - simply HIM.
There has been a whisper here, and a notion there - this concept of love has been perched on my shoulder this whole time. God will give one example after another of what living for Him - I mean really living for Him is supposed to look like. This kind of call demands everything, my whole life and more. And the only appropriate response, the only thing that makes a lick of sense would be to fall on my face in surrendered obedience.
I discovered yesterday that I HAVE been receiving God's direction, in fact, it has been following me around all over the place. I find it in everything beautiful, and everything painful all at the same time. It rests in my subconscious, while shouting through the spoken Word of God. It exists in the air that I breath. In and out, it is as natural as taking a breath - and it is as vital as needing that breath.
"You do have the answer . . . you have had it all along . . . " is what the Spirit whispered to me yesterday. The question is, will I trust what I am hearing? Will I be willing to risk it all - for the sake of what really matters?
What does "really matter" anyway? When all of the chips finally fall, and the curtain begins to close - what is the the one thing that will forever remain?
Like Pastor Dave has been preaching through the book of James: faith in action - God's Word in action . . . is that of LOVE. I can't account for anybody else, but this heart has unmistakeably heard the call.
Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. ~ 1 Corinthians 13:4-8a ~
Uncharted territory? Oh, you'd better believe it. What will something like this mean for you?
Through some of my posts, and some pretty broken up conversations, I have created descriptions of ambiguity, and confusion - a not knowing where to go. Well, yesterday, God reminded me that I very much do have the answer . . . the piece to this great big puzzle of life. That piece my friends, is Jesus. Nothing added, nothing taken away - simply HIM.
There has been a whisper here, and a notion there - this concept of love has been perched on my shoulder this whole time. God will give one example after another of what living for Him - I mean really living for Him is supposed to look like. This kind of call demands everything, my whole life and more. And the only appropriate response, the only thing that makes a lick of sense would be to fall on my face in surrendered obedience.
I discovered yesterday that I HAVE been receiving God's direction, in fact, it has been following me around all over the place. I find it in everything beautiful, and everything painful all at the same time. It rests in my subconscious, while shouting through the spoken Word of God. It exists in the air that I breath. In and out, it is as natural as taking a breath - and it is as vital as needing that breath.
"You do have the answer . . . you have had it all along . . . " is what the Spirit whispered to me yesterday. The question is, will I trust what I am hearing? Will I be willing to risk it all - for the sake of what really matters?
What does "really matter" anyway? When all of the chips finally fall, and the curtain begins to close - what is the the one thing that will forever remain?
Like Pastor Dave has been preaching through the book of James: faith in action - God's Word in action . . . is that of LOVE. I can't account for anybody else, but this heart has unmistakeably heard the call.
Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. ~ 1 Corinthians 13:4-8a ~
Uncharted territory? Oh, you'd better believe it. What will something like this mean for you?
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