When Seasons Change

When I was younger, my favorite time of year was toward the end of August...you'd just wake up one morning and step outside and you could smell it in the air.   The air was a little crisper...Fall was on the way!   I went to college in Tennessee and there I experienced the changing of the leaves for the first time.  I was absolutely in awe of the brilliant colors.  I would watch the trees with great anticipation.  Waiting for that next season was so exhilarating!

But something has happened as I've aged.  Now, instead of the drop in temperature or the brilliant colors, I rely on my nose to tell me when the season is changing.  Well, to be more specific, my sinuses.   Now, the changing of the season brings on a relentless bout of sneezing and wheezing.  I no longer look at the changing seasons with awe and anticipation...no, that has been replaced with fear and dread.

Just recently, I realized the same phenomenon has taken place in my spiritual life.   The seasons will change...that's God's design...but how I respond to the changing season can make it enjoyable or pure misery.  

Recently, I experienced a season change, perhaps I'm still in it, and this one hit me hard.   It required me and my husband leaving a place and people that we loved very much and moving into uncertain territory.    To say it was a struggle would be an understatement, but the harder we resisted the season change, the more miserable we became.  I would liken it to getting to that first cool morning and insisting that we turn up the heat and remain in a blazing Summer...because I'm afraid of what the new season holds for me.  I suppose you can try that but all you end up with is a ridiculous utility bill and a very gro
uchy household.   You can't stop the season from changing.   You can only decide how you will adapt...embracing the new season is a much better choice.

I wasn't always resistant to change in my spiritual life.   In fact, I welcomed it throughout most of my life.   I'd like to think I embraced it.   It was exciting and fresh!   But something happened inside me when Jeff died.    The following morning after he passed, a dear friend talked to me about something he felt God wanted him to tell me.   He wanted this friend to tell me that a new season was coming for me.   Gone was the season of being a pastor's wife.   Gone was the season of being in full time ministry.  But take heart...a new season is coming and it will be wonderful.   And I believe that for the first time in my life, fear crept in and no matter how hard I tried, the new season did not appeal to me.  I was fearful of what the new season would look like.  How would I know what to do?   Would I even like the new season?   Would I get lost and lose my way?   What if it wasn't as wonderful as he said it would be?   And what was wrong with the old season...why couldn't I just stay there, in the season I was comfortable in?

As much as I inwardly feared the new season, I couldn't stop it.   It was coming.  So I put on my tough face.   My fake it till you make it face.   I gave myself a pep talk and told myself that I could do this.   And I did, for a while.   Then Mike and I married and I was like, "Oh, this must be the wonderful new season he was talking about".   Life was good, I was blessed and surely this was it.   Except, when I prayed, I felt that inward nudging...calling me to change, calling me to a new season.   For a long time I said nothing and did nothing.   I hoped it would just go away.   But it didn't.

And then Mike began to feel it, too.    Now we were both warring on the inside...struggling, knowing God was changing our season and all the while we were begging Him to just let us stay in Summer.   And no matter how much we had to sweat, no matter how miserable and thirsty we were...as long as we didn't have to go into a new season, we would be ok.  

Isn't it funny how we let a little thing  like a season change wreck our world.   It's a natural thing for Pete's sake!   Part of God's perfect design for our lives.   Even so, we would rather hold on to what we know, because that is familiar and safe, than to let go and embrace every season.

I don't know a lot about gardening but I do know that the plants need all four seasons.   Without them they don't know when to bloom, when to produce fruit.   I have a lime-quat tree in my backyard.   For four years now, we've pampered that thing.   I talk to it to no avail.  Mike fertilizes it and we always make sure it is covered when the weather turns bitter cold.   It hasn't produced a single lime in four years.   But this year is different.   This year as the season is changing from spring into summer, guess what is happening...little blooms are everywhere on the plant.   My garden friends tell me that wherever I see a bloom, a lime will grow.   If that's the case, I'm going to have a bumper crop.   My lime tree is coming into a new season.   What if I could learn to see a new season in my life with the same excitement that I look at my lime tree with?  If I could just train myself to think about the new fruit that my life will bear rather than look longingly at past seasons...constantly mourning all that is lost.  Those things were good in their season, but if you've ever been around a fruit tree when the fruit has ripened and fallen off the tree...well, that fruit is no longer desirable.   Still something is going on in the tree that is exciting!  

God has been dealing with me on this very thing.   Moving into a new season doesn't mean anything was wrong with the season we were in.   In fact, it really says the opposite.   It says that we are healthy.  A tree that doesn't move to the new season will die...it needs a period of rest after a season of fruit, and before it can bear fruit it must bloom.   Paul speaks in Philippians 3 of forgetting what is behind and looking (or pressing) (or being excited about) what lies ahead.   One version says straining toward...what if I could approach every new season like that?  Think about an apple seed.  Where did it come from?  It comes from the fruit of the apple tree, of course.   But what does it contain?  Well, it contains a tree, and tons of fruit and millions of leaves...all in that tiny seed.   So if the fruit (apple) never drops or dies, then the seed will never be exposed and the lineage will stop right there.   The apple must be opened up to expose that seed for the new season to begin.   Now, just because that apple has been shed, that doesn't mean its over for the tree...no, it's just in a new season, and if it continues to go through the seasons, in due time, it will bear more fruit, more seeds, more trees that will in turn bear more fruit...and on and on it goes.

Some seasons are more intense than others and for those of us who like to know what lies ahead, that can be a scary thing.  But I am learning everyday to trust the Creator.  He knows what season I am supposed to be in.   Resisting His divine plan for my life doesn't keep it from happening, it only makes me miserable when it does.   Likewise, I can't expect that my children will always be in a fruit bearing season.   I need to remember when it appears that they are in a dormant season, that I cannot see what is happening on the inside, but God has a plan and purpose for it.   They are His and the seasons they will go through may not align at all with my seasons.  And no matter how much I enjoyed the past seasons of my life or theirs, I need to remember that what lies ahead is divinely ordained by a God who loves us very much.   He orders our steps and His plans are for our good.

So today, I'm making a new commitment, a conscience effort to strain toward that new season.   No holding back!   Today, I will press on toward the prize!  New season, here I come!

What's in Your Bag?

This has been a week of heartbreak in the community where I live and the community where I grew up.  On Sunday afternoon, a beloved high school baseball coach and his sweet wife were tragically killed while trying to help rebuild the high school's baseball field that had been damaged in a recent hurricane.   My hometown has survived much damage but has been resilient, picking up the pieces and rebuilding their lives.   But they never saw the storm coming that hit them on Sunday afternoon.  It was a curve ball, so to speak, that devastated my alma mater and the surrounding communities.

Sunday afternoon, we were returning from a trip to see our youngest.   This weekend was the 5th anniversary of her father's death and it seemed like a good time to go visit her.   Sunday was beautiful.   Cool, but not too cold.  Sunny.  Blue skies.   A perfect day for a workday...not a perfect day for a storm.   Early in the afternoon, I noticed a missed call from my sister...about the same time, I saw a post from the Sheriff in my hometown...there had been a tragic accident at the baseball field and two were deceased and another injured.

Quickly, I called my sister and she relayed the story.   She first asked me if I knew the Crum's, since they were from the town in which I now live.   I did not know them.  She then told me the story and my heart broke.  Suddenly, even though I didn't know them, I felt tears welling in my eyes.  It's not supposed to be this way.   My heart broke for their children and the family left behind.   My heart broke for their team, who would now have to attempt to process the happenings of this day and grieve the loss of their coach and his wife.   My heart broke for communities...for Liberty and Wakulla counties...but also for the baseball community,  a community that cannot be defined by county lines, but rather is a brotherhood that is tight knit and very much a family.

Sunday night, I couldn't sleep.   I just kept replaying the events (even though I wasn't there) and kept thinking of the ripple effect this day would have.   Monday brought a clearer picture of what had happened, but the feeling that your breath had just been knocked out of you remained.   No one, no matter how well they had been trained, saw this coming.   I prayed for everyone affected.   I asked God to give me words...but none would come.   Just silence.  Until this morning, when I felt like He gave me a picture...and I hope that it helps someone.

This morning God gave me a picture of a bag, one like ball players carry.  You know, the serious ball players.   The ones who have their own bat.   In my younger days, I was not an athlete.   I was a statistician.   I traveled with the team and sat with the team.   I cheered the team on.  But I didn't get on the field.   I carried a bag, too, but what was in my bag was different from what the players carried.   I carried a stat book and lots of pencils...and a good eraser!  Their bags were different from mine...but they were also all different from each other.   Some carried that special bat.   Some had a glove or even a backup glove.   Some balls and some even had their own helmets.   Some even had something in the bag that they thought would bring them luck.   They didn't just go to the store and buy a baseball bag that came equipped with everything they would need for the game.   No, they had to build it...slowly, as they played the game.  They learned the things that they would need to make their game better.  Some items came at the recommendation of a coach.   Some came as a result of envying a fellow teammate.   Some items would come as a gift, and some came by the avenue of hard work.   Each bag was different and each player's game was a little different as well.   Alone, one bag did not have the necessary tools to win the game, nor did one player.   But together, we could get the job done.

The "game" or challenge that our communities are now faced with is grief.   It is a hard game.   On Sunday, it threw a serious curve ball like none of us has ever seen or experienced.  And though we may have suffered an "out", the game isn't over.  How we will play the rest of the game will determine who the winner is.   And how we play the game will be largely determined by what we have in our bag.   Some of us have been playing the game for a long time, and we have things in our bag that not only benefit us, but can benefit the whole team.   Some, although they may not have as much experience, have newer tools...and even though what we have is good, in many ways, what they have is an improvement on what we have in our bags.   My point is this...and I hope I can adequately convey the mental picture that God gave me this morning...we need each other to get through this.   What I've learned about this family in the days since this tragedy, is that Coach Crum and his wife didn't just want to "win" the game.   They wanted to teach boys to be winners...not just on the field, but in life.   They instilled values in these kids that would not just help them beat their weekly opponent...it would help them win.   There is a difference.

Grief is an opponent that doesn't play fair.   It strikes when you least expect it and it is relentless.   It waits until you are at your weakest, and then it goes in for the kill.   But you don't have to let grief win.   Don't get me wrong...I am not saying that you shouldn't grieve this loss.   You absolutely should.   But how will you grieve?   What's in your bag?   Do you have what you need to win this game...and if not, who is around you that can you borrow from.   Who is in the dugout with you who can help you through this game.    Grief will tell you that there is no one...that is a lie.   Don't believe it.   Remember, I said grief doesn't play fair.   Look around you, stay with the "team".   And to the "team" I want to say, be on the lookout for those who may feel like they don't have what they need to get through this.   Share your arsenal with them.   To you, it may not seem like much, but to someone else it may be a lifeline.   A hug.   A kind word.  A text.  A phone call.  A meal.   A yard mowed.   A game attended.   You get the picture.   Alone, we may not be able to heal the hurt...but together, as a team, we can!  

I understand that Coach Crum often told his boys that he wanted them to give it 110%.   To use everything at their disposal to win.   That included their talents, time, energy, knowledge and so much more.   Winning this new game will take giving it your all...and then some.   And when you don't know where the "and then some" will come from, try asking God for it.   You see, when what's in our bag is exhausted...God's bag is just getting started.   He has everything we need to win this game.   And His bag doesn't get old, doesn't exhaust, and is always available.   His bag has hope.   His bag has peace.   His bag has clarity.   His bag has love.   And He is always, always, ALWAYS, willing (and ready) to share what's in His bag.  

The Truth, and Nothing but the Truth

I'll be honest.   I have deliberated over this post more than any other post I've ever written.   You see, I read something recently and it shook me...to the core.   In fact, I had to read it several times, not because I didn't understand it.   Believe me...I understood it!   But I had to read it several times because the truth in it was too difficult to digest in one setting.   It was a truth that required that I take a long, hard look at my life and find myself on knees, repenting before God.

Even as read the above mentioned passage, I could feel God compelling me to write about it.   Again, the inward struggle was real.   I feared that others may read what I would write and think I was calling someone out.   And though it is true that as I read the afore mentioned passage, several faces popped into my mind, if I am completely honest, the most prominent face was my own.   So if you are reading this blog, and you think, even for a moment, "Oh, she is pointing her finger at me", or maybe, "uh-ha, she's trying to call me out"...let me just put your mind at ease.   The only one I am exposing here is myself...my own judgmental, self-seeking self.   But before you start pointing your finger at me and start thinking, "I told ya so"...maybe, just maybe you should ask God, am I guilty of the same offense?   Because, I believe that if we are honest, it is something we all struggle with.

For the past several weeks, I have been doing a Bible study/devotional based on the book Adamant, by Lisa Bevere.   It is a book that has challenged me on many days to look harder at my walk with Christ and to strive to change things that need to be fixed in my life.   But it was this short passage that stood out to me, almost as if someone had taken a bright yellow highlighter and marked it to grab my attention:

"At its core, truth is not a what, but a who, because Jesus said He is the truth.   Jesus also said that God's Word is truth.   The world loves to think of truth as fluctuating and relative, but the truth that is grounded in the person of Jesus and the Word of God never changes.   In a world full of opinions, God's truth leads us to convictions we can build our lives on.
We must be careful to discern the difference between opinions and convictions.   Our world doesn't need the messiness that comes with numerous opinions.   It needs the stability that comes with truth.   Let's not contribute to the noise that distracts and keeps us from looking to Scripture and the Spirit of truth.
Opinions are easy to make and quick to change, but hard to clean up if we've been careless in spreading ours around.   They can become like litter that defiles both others' lives and our own.   We must carefully guard our words to ensure we are part of the solution to the problems we're are anointed to change.
I challenge you to edit your life and edit the words you choose to speak.   Be careful about what you read, listen to, say or post.   Do not air your family issues, or the church's issues, for all the world to see.   Yet, at the same time, don't remain silent about them:  Speak to family about family issues.  If someone isn't involved in the problem or solution, don't unnecessarily involve them.   This only makes the problem bigger rather than solving it."

Everyone has an opinion.   Be honest.   Everyone has an opinion...but is it necessary...and even more importantly, is it beneficial for you to share that opinion?   And while you are answering that question, let me ask this one...who is benefitting from you sharing your opinion?   Honestly, at least 98% of the time, when I share my opinion, I am the one who benefits.   So how then, do I distinguish between 'opinion' and 'conviction'...because until now, I would have defined conviction as a very strong opinion...but it is not that at all.   A true conviction can only come from the truth.   The whole truth.   And nothing but the truth.    It doesn't come from your emotions.   It doesn't come from your upbringing.   God refers to Himself and His Word as truth.   And I would challenge you make Him the measuring guide by which you measure truth.   Did this come from Him?  If not, can it really be truth?

Our society is thirsty for the exposed truth.   Everyone wants to know the real truth.   The behind the scenes story...the "rest" of the story.  Look at the popularity of reality tv and expose' journalism.    We all want to know the truth...but the Truth is not hidden behind closed doors.    No, the Truth was hung on a cross before the entire world!  

My opinion, as much as I believe it, its not 100% truth.   It is tainted and warped by my experiences, my emotions and my beliefs.    It is my opinion, and until now, I thought it was important that I share my opinion about certain things with everyone.   I shared my opinions in this blog, on Facebook, Instagram and in personal daily conversations.   But what I am now realizing is that my opinion is noise.   Noise...a clanging cymbal, a resounding gong...just noise.   Noise, that contributes to the noise pollution of a world that is desperately thirsty for truth.   Truth that I have, yet I choose to give them noise instead.    Noise that distracts those who are listening and makes it nearly impossible for them to hear the Truth.

1 Corinthians 13 says this :

"If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love (truth), I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal."

I was a drum major in my high school band for 3 years.   Those who were in the band under my leadership will most likely remember that one thing I hated was noise.    You know that drummer who just keeps drumming or the trumpet player who just keeps playing long after the conductor has given the signal for the cut off.   I always saw it as disrespectful and useless...yet, if I am honest...if I am truly honest, I am guilty of this offense.   I have contributed on many occasions to the noise.   Even when I know the conductor (God himself) has given me the cue for the cutoff.   Many times He has even gone so far as to call me out on it...and I still played on.   Why?   Not because my song was so important that others needed to hear...no, it was because it felt good to get it out.    It felt good.   But it wasn't good.   It was noisy.   Very noisy.

That's what our opinions are...just noise.  If you want to make beautiful music, you're going to have to pay close attention to the Conductor...and He will always point you to the Truth, His Word, The Score.   If it doesn't come from there, well then it simply doesn't measure up and it is noise.   It is distracting.  We are all entitled to our opinions...but that doesn't necessarily mean that everyone else is entitled to your opinion.   Ask yourself before you share it, does this line up with God's Word?   If not, then as righteous as you may feel, it is your opinion and it is noise.    Keep it to yourself.   If it is truth, real truth, then let God reveal it in the symphony He is directing.   It really isn't your job.   As for me, I'm going to do my best to stick to the Truth, the whole Truth and nothing but the Truth.

FOUR

Four years.   You've been in heaven for four years now.   To us, it seems like you have been gone forever...but then I remember how "Godtime" works and realize that you're probably still checking in.   I wish you could tell us how grand that place really is.   My heart longs for it...even more now that you are there.

God has been so faithful to me.   I know, you promised me He would be, but He has really blown my mind with His faithfulness.   The kids are doing well...you would be proud of them.   Each one, finding their place in the world in their own way.  The church is doing well.   Moving into a new season wasn't easy, but they've done it and we are expecting great things on the horizon.

This week, I've been remembering tiny details that I had somehow pushed to the back of my memory.  Like the way you would play with your ear when you were nervous or in deep thought.    The way you'd quickly tilt your head to the right, then left when you were trying not to go off on someone.   The way that vein on the side of your forhead would pop when I had pushed all your buttons and you were trying to not go off on me!  The way you'd chew your bottom lip, bite your nails and stand to preach with half your foot dangling over the edge of the stage.   The way you sat in your big chair and studied God's word.  These memories bring a smile to my face and I can just see you doing what you loved all over again.

I miss you more than I can explain.   But I wouldn't bring you back...I know you are where you wanted to be.  So many times, I just wish I could pick your brain.   Although you never flaunted your knowledge, you were so wise when it came to scripture.    You could make the most complex scriptures seem so simple to understand.   Things that I would just read and skim over, you could preach life changing sermons from.   I wish I had spent more time letting you teach me how you did that.   I miss your laugh, the way you rocked out to music from bands I'd never heard of and the way you sang loudly and way off tune...and you didn't care because you were singing to God!

My life is not the same.   You would be happy to know that Mike and I married after Anne joined you in heaven.   He is such a blessing to me.   I prayed (during the time when I was alone) that if I ever remarried, that the man I'd marry would not be intimidated by your memory.    I couldn't imagine a life where I wouldn't be able to celebrate your memory.   I'd rather have remained single.  But God heard my prayer and since Mike loved you, too, we are able to celebrate both you and Anne.   We talk about you often and there are subtle memories all over our home that remind us of you.

And I think that this is where God has shown Himself most faithful.   He has allowed us to love each other deeply and without reserve.   We are passionate about each other and we try to live everyday to the fullest.    We love each other fiercely.  God is still using us...just not the same way.    We are in a new season and He is revealing ways that He wants to use us if only we are willing.   And we are.   I am blessed beyond anything I could've ever dreamed.   I know your only fear of death was that you were leaving us behind, but I can promise you, God has been faithful and He has provided for us at every turn.

I don't know how much longer we will be here...or when He will call us home.   But now more than ever, I trust that God has a plan and He will bring that plan about in my life.   I don't know when I'll see you again...I do know it will seem like a blink to you but for me, not so much.   I know that you probably won't be able to read this, yet writing it makes me feel better.   But someday, the day will come, when I'll see you in Heaven.   What a reunion that will be.

Today, I will not mourn your loss.   I will celebrate your memory.   I will enjoy the things you enjoyed (except golf...it's too cold and I can't hit the stupid ball anyway!).   I will watch Monk and Bones.  I will eat Mexican.  I will look at your pictures.   I will remember your legacy.   I will


celebrate you...because, I know you, and I know that is exactly what you would want me to do.   So happy anniversary of getting to heaven day!   Happy great reward day!   You deserved it!  You are still loved here on Earth!  But I celebrate you today!   I love you, still!

The Words of My Mouth...

Tonight I laid wide awake in bed, beside my husband who was doing his best to sleep.   I tossed and turned.   I fidgeted.   I prayed.   But sleep would not come.   Finally, (because I knew he'd be getting up super early to go hunting), I crawled from our bed and went to the living room where I spent the next couple of hours reading facebook posts and looking at pinterest.   Still, my mind was on overload and sleep wouldn't come.  So, in my frustration, I began to do what I do...I talked to God.   "Why am I so anxious?"   "Why can't my mind just shut it down?"   "Aggggh!"   No response.   Wait...what is that faint sound...I can't quite make it out.   Is that you, God?   If so, you should speak up, because my mind is too loud and I can't hear you!!!

Suddenly, I got a mental image of God slowly placing His finger over His lips and saying calmly, "Shhhhhh!"   I had just been shhhhh'd by God.   Really!   Imagine that.  (If you know me, then you know how much I HATE being shhhhh'd!)  God wanted me to just hush!

Earlier this evening, a friend stopped by and visited with us.   We talked about some tough topics.  It's good to have friends that you can be completely transparent with...but understand, not everyone can handle your transparency.    Thankfully, this one can.   In the course of our conversation, God brought one of my favorite scriptures to mind, "Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart, be pleasing in Your sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer."-Psalm 19:14

For the last few hours, my thoughts have been consumed by my words.     Are my words pleasing to my Lord?    The words I speak in conversations I have with my husband?    The words I use when I speak to my kids?   The words I speak in the grocery store, at church or in passing?   The words I speak in jest...or how about the words I speak in judgement?  Is God pleased with my words?   How about when I'm whining (yes, I admit that I do this on occasion)?    How about the words I write?  Do those bring a smile or a grimmace to God's face?  

You see, I cannot choose the circumstances I find myself in.    If I could, I would never be wronged again or hurt by another's actions or lack thereof.   It is not up to me if I face sickness or disease.  I would never lose another loved one to death.   I don't get to see what lies around the bend.   But guess what?   I can choose my words.

I may not be able to choose my emotions, but I can choose what will meditate on.   I can choose how I will respond...and whether or not it will please God.

Yes, I will face heartbreak.   I will face disappointment and perhaps I will experience betrayal and even outrage.   Those things I can't control.    Anger, sadness, disappointment, fear...all part of life...but those things do not define who I am.   How I respond to those things however, does speak volumes of the real me, but even more, it reflects on the God I serve.  

Because I trust Him completely, it is imperative to me that my words reflect His authority in my life.   I want my words to bring Him glory.   I want my words to direct attention to Him...not to me, or my cause, or my desires.   I want the things I think about and the things I spend time dwelling on, to be the goodness and faithfulness of God...not the disappointments of a fallen world that I live in.  

I believe tonight, I have a new glimpse of what David was thinking when he wrote these words.  If I were David, perhaps I would've written it like this.   Lord, let me keep my mind more on You than on this world around me.   Let my words reflect You...not the dispair and gloom I may find myself in.   Lord, don't let my words reflect my anger, my disgust or my opinion.   The world doesn't need that.   What the world needs is You!   So, Lord, when my eyes become distracted by the world around me, draw my attention back to You.   Remind me to think about You and Your goodness.   That alone will blot out everything surrounding me.   And then, when my mind is consumed by Your love, let me speak.   Let me speak the truth...in Your love.  Amen.

Tic-Toc!

It's been far too long since I've written.  Perhaps that is why sleep is evasive tonight.   Maybe it's God's way of bringing me back to the keyboard...to our quiet place...the place where He speaks to me things that I can only hear in the silence.   The song He sings to me set to the cadence of the ticking of the clock.

Where did the time go?  I blinked and a couple months whizzed by!   Yesterday, Mike and I celebrated our 2nd anniversary...how did that happen?   It feels like we just got married!   Yes, our life has been fast paced in the past year, with the campaign and all, but we are very cautious about cherishing every moment...so when I realized just how fast time was passing, it really has made me think about what I am doing with my moments.

In just over four months, Abbi will graduate from High School.   Just a couple of months later, she will go away to college.   And just like that the last of my baby birds will fly away...and the nest will be empty.   For those of you who know me, you know that I have always had a theory that the empty nest syndrome was pretty much a myth.   I know I will miss having her here, don't get me wrong.   I'll miss our giggles in the kitchen, reminding her to get her room "squared away", her technological help with devices I will never understand.   I'll miss our chats and coming to the conclusion that she really didn't want my advice as much as she just wanted someone to hear her out.   I know...I will miss it.

But I also know that in order for her to fulfill the calling on her life, she must fly away.   Keeping her in the nest will only cripple her ability to be who God created her to be.   So before 2017 comes to an end, I will gently nudge my baby bird from the nest and watch her begin to soar.  As tempting as it is, now is not the time to make the nest more comfortable...it is the time for me to do what mama birds do, and teach her how to use her wings.

Life is full of seasons.   Moments that run into hours, hours into days, days into weeks...months, years, seasons.   We must be cautious to appreciate every season and not spend our time rushing through to get to the next season of life.    Fully appreciating each season involves embracing the moment, understanding that in time, the next season will come.    It means not trying to hold off the next season, as well.   It is not within our power to slow time down, we must learn to be good time keepers.  Valuing every moment.

I really thought I had completely learned this lesson after losing Jeff.   I thought God had ingrained this important lesson in my brain through our struggle with cancer.   Yet tonight, I am realizing that this is a lesson He will continue to teach me for the rest of my days.   Learning to not get so caught up in planning for the next season, that I miss what is happening in this one.   One thing I have learned is that once a moment is gone, it is gone...it will only remain in our memory.

So tonight, less than a week into 2017, I am reaffirming my committment to live in the moment God has placed me in.   To live my life in a way that reflects His goodness to me.   I commit to love my husband and children fiercely, striving to put away distractions that would keep me from valuing the moments God has given us together.   It's not so much a New Year's resolution, as it is just an awakening to the fact that the clock is ticking.   Tic-toc, tic-toc, tic-toc.

I remember the words of a song by the Steve Miller Band..."time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping into the future".   Ecclesiastes 3 says it best...

1   There is a time for everything,
     and a season for every activity under the heavens:
2   a time to be born and a time to die,
     a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3   a time to kill and a time to heal,
     a time to tear down and a time to build,
4   a time to weep and a time to laugh,
     a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5   a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
     a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6   a time to search and a time to give up,
     a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7   a time to tear and a time to mend,
     a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8   a time to love and a time to hate,
     a time for war and a time for peace.

Lord, help me to cherish every moment.   The be present in the present.   To trust You with the future and every season.  And thank you tonight, for the song of the clock...tic-toc, tic-toc, tic-toc.

Engraved

Recently, I saw a post by a friend that referred to a tattoo that once was a sign of promise but now was just a big mistake.   I'm not sure if it was a name or a symbol, but whatever my friend had once had tattooed on her hand, she now covered up with a ring.   She no longer wanted it there.   What was once very dear, was now covered up, hidden so as not to remind her of what once was.  

My friend's post came back to me as I read my Bible this morning.  "Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne?   Though she may forget, I will not forget you!   See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands."   Isaiah 49:15, 16

I have another friend who struggles with self-worth.   Although this person is a Christian, they never feel like they are good enough to be loved by a righteous God.   Even though they've repented and have changed, in the back of their mind remains the thought that they have just done too many bad things and can never be completely forgiven.  It is a fear many of us face, that we are simply unloveable.

My late husband's mother was a very sweet mother-in-law.   She passed away just a few months before we learned of Jeff's cancer.   In her latter days, alzheimers ravished her mind in a way that was heartbreaking to all her loved her.   Jeff and his mom were very close.   For the first eight years of his life his dad was away in the military, so it was just Jeff and his mom.   They formed a bond that few could understand.

I will never forget the day that she forgot him.   It was perhaps the most broken I had seen him up to that point.   Shirley (Jeff's mom) had what the medical staff around her referred to as "Sundowners".   It is a form of Alzheimers that primarily affects a patient in the latter hours of the day.   The person may be cognizant in the morning, but by late afternoon, they can't remember people who are dearest to them.  

Because we lived hundreds of miles away, we were not aware how severe this condition could be.   We had heard from other family members how sad it was, but we really thought she would always remember Jeff.   That day we went to the nursing home around 10 in the morning.   We were visiting for the weekend and wanted to spend as much time as possible with her while we were there.    We walked in the room and she called each of us by name...Whew! She remembered us!   Perhaps family had misunderstood her symptoms after all.   She talked with us for the next several hours, dozing here and there.   She seemed tired but fine overall.

Then, around 3:30 in the afternoon, she looked over at Jeff and jumped.   Who was this strange man in her room?   It was heart breaking to watch as my mother-in-law, who I knew deeply loved her son, could not remember this child she gave birth to.   Thankfully, her lapse in memory only lasted until the next morning and she could remember him again.

So when I read this passage of scripture, I understand that yes, it is possible for a mother to forget her child that she loves.   I also know that it is possible to write something on your hand that you later regret.   But when I hear the term the writer uses here to describe the level of devotion God has to His children, I am in awe.    The scripture says, "See I have engraved you in the palm of my hand."

Engraved.   When I hear that term, I think "carved", so God has "carved" my name on His hands?   Yes, He did, and He did it with rusty nails!   You see, as He engraved my name on His hands, He was forgiving my sins.   It's a concept that is almost too large for my mind to comprehend.   But what I know beyond a shadow of a doubt is that Christ, who knew no sin, took my sin and forgave it and that as they nailed Him to a cross, my name (and yours) was engraved on His hands.   Unlike my friend, Christ doesn't regret this engraving...it was the purpose He came to Earth for.  

So the next time Satan tries to tell you that you've been too bad, that you are unlovable, or that you've been forgotten, you just remind him that you've been ENGRAVED on your Savior's hand!

The Thinking Chair

When my kids were little, they each had their favorite TV shows to watch.   Zac loved Barney, or "Narney" as he would call it.  Doran loved Blues Clues, and for Abbi it was "Do-a"...or Dora the Explorer.   Thankfully, there was enough space between the three of them that they didn't fight over what we had to watch.   Well at least most of the time.   This morning, I am sitting in my living room and all is quiet.   The TV is not on...there's no cheery music in the background, no silly questions...only quiet.   Though at times I miss the days when they were little and thought their dad and I could do no wrong, today, I am just enjoying the peacefulness of this quiet moment.

I remember when Doran was just 3, and he wanted to watch Blue Clues, he had to have his "Binkin' Chair".   It was a little red chair, made to look just like the Thinkin' Chair on the show...where Steve would "Sit down in his thinkin' chair, and think, think, thin-n-n-n-nk!"  (I love how all you moms just sang that little song!  You know you did!)    He would sit there for hours, if I'd let him, and watch Steve and Blue all day long.

Yesterday, I had an "AHA" moment, when I realized I needed a Thinkin' Chair quite desperately.  You see, I have spent precious hours in recent days trying to figure out how to make God's plan for my life (and my family's lives) happen.   My husband is running for a public office...I've spent hours alongside him, strategizing and planning.    My boys are both in college and trying to figure out how to pay for it.   I've spent hours researching funding options for higher education.   Abbi is a Senior and I don't have to explain the countless hours we have spent, looking at options for college and scholarship opportunities.   I 've planned out ways to make Zach & Rebecca's dream life happen (although, the last thing they need is me to get involved there!)   Mike's mom is now 88 and though her mind is very keen, her body is not.   I 've thought about all the possibilities of caring for her.   I've dreamed about ministry opportunities for me and writing a book and the list goes on.

I've read the drama that plays out on Facebook everyday and felt my blood pressure rise as I absorbed the non-sense.  I've worried over the Presidential election and direction our country is heading.   It seems that the more I think on these things the bleaker my world appears.

I never realized that the more I thought on those things, I didn't come up with a solution, only stress.   Oh, every now and then I would have a good idea, but it was short lived and soon the stress would return.   My joy plumeted as thoughts turned to the things I've mentioned.

But wait, I've prayed about all of these things (ok, maybe not Facebook) and I believe that in every situation, we are headed in the direction God has planned for us.   I believe He orders my steps, so why am I so restless?

Yesterday, it hit me...because I am thinking about the wrong things.   You see, as a follower of Christ, I have placed my future in  His hands.    So why did I buy into satan's trick that says I have to fill my mind with ways to make God's plan for my life happen?   I don't know why...but I did.

God's word tells us in Philippians 4:8 that "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things."   Does that mean I should sit back and just wait for God's plan to happen?   That I should just sit around and think about the good things and never deal with the issues at hand?

I don't think that is what the writer of this passage means at all.   I do think that God's intentions for me include me filling my mind with the things mentioned in this passage.   I think He wants me to spend a good portion of my time and energy, dwelling on things that are noble, pure and true.   As I do that, I believe He will be faithful and guide me as to how to navigate the issues I face on a day to day basis.  

It's easy to say I want to think on the good things, but when I spend more time on Facebook, than I do in God's word, I am just fooling myself to believe I have heard from Him.   I know this to be true because when I came to this realization yesterday, a thousand reasons why I SHOULDN'T take a break from Facebook came to mind.   The election is only days away (God is in control).  Most of my business comes through Facebook (but God is in control).  I don't watch TV so how will I know about the news (God is in control).    I might miss a birthday or an important event (God is in control).  And just like that, I had my answer.    Though my walk with Him was not in jeopardy, my peace was.   I needed to spend more time in the Word and more time thinking about the things He wants me to dwell on.

So although my "Thinkin' Chair" isn't red, and actually it isn't a chair at all, today I am installing a "Thinkin' Chair" in my life.   A place where I can spend a good portion of my time, thinking on the things God wants me to.   I will trust Him to order my steps and those of my family.    He has proven His faithfulness to me over and over and over again.   I have no doubt, He will remain faithful in all that concerns me.   So pardon me while I "sit down in my thinkin' chair and think, think, thin-n-n-n-nk!

A Tale of Two Husbands - Over the edge!

It used to scare me to death.   He would stand there, in front of hundreds of people, on the very edge of that stage.   Sometimes, more than half of his foot would just be hanging there.   I was certain he would someday fall off the stage and break a hip, or worse.   I would rant at him, saying things like "Why do you do such a stupid thing?" or "Do you know how dangerous that is?".   Calmly, but deliberately, he would answer me.   "I can't help it, Libby...I'm just passionate about what I'm preaching!"   And he was...I knew he was...still, his passion scared me to death.

This picture of my late husband, Jeff McFalls, is what I see in my mind every time I think of him preaching.   He was passionate and he preached with passion.   He was truthful and he spoke the truth.   The threat of repercussion couldn't sway him from telling the truth.   Even my consistent nagging couldn't sway him from what he was called to do.   He preached over the edge...not just his feet, but with everything he had.   I was afraid his passion would stir things up too much and I just wanted peace.   He reminded me that peace at all cost isn't really peace all...it's just passivity.  And passivity is a lie.  His passion intimidated me...but not only me.   I've learned that people find passion and truth intimidating.

I must be, however, attracted to what intimidates me!  It is no secret that my new husband is a passionate man.   He is perhaps the most honest man I've ever known...he won't lie, even when he knows the truth will cost him greatly.   I'm convinced he would rather die than lie.   If he even thinks he misrepresented the truth accidentally, he can't sleep until he makes it right.   What if we were all that way?   The world would be a much better place to be.  His passion has brought him trouble on more than one occasion, but without it, much of what has been accomplished in our community never would have happened.

As certain as I am that Jeff was created and called to be a pastor, I believe that Mike was created and called to be a public servant...serving the people as a leader in government.   His heart is to help people and make life better for them.   He sacrifices his own comfort, so that others can benefit.   He is not selfish, but doesn't want his generosity spotlighted.   That's because it is genuine...from the heart...not for show.

Both of my husbands have been thinkers.   I've watched them both deliberate on decisions,  making sure they have looked at it from every angle.   And then, once they've considered every side, they demonstrate courage and wisdom and make a decision.   No non committal responses or teetering forever, afraid to step over the edge.   No...a look at these two teaches us how to make a decision.

In just a few days, Mike's bid for election as a county commissioner will be upon us.   Voters will go and cast their votes.   Hopefully, the voters can see in him what I see and will elect him to serve our county.   Only God knows what the outcome of this election will be.   And only God knows how He wants to use Mike in the coming days.  We trust Him completely and submit fully to His will in our lives.

You see...Mike and Jeff weren't just passionate and truthful when things were going good...when all hell seemed to be unleashed upon them, I've watched them both stay true to their mission.    Their love of God and desire to be what He has called them to be is their driving force.

I find myself so thankful to have been able to share life with two men so full of passion and truth.    Truly, God has smiled upon me and given me favor.   Whenever I find myself wanting to shrink back and take the easy, less offensive, less decisive road, I think of these two Godly men that were placed in my life.   In that, I find courage to tackle the hard stuff...to step out over the edge and be everything God has called me to be.

We live in a time where political correctness has pervaded our society.   You can't speak truth for fear of offending someone.   And everything offends someone.   So we in turn choose not to speak at all.   God help us.   Let more of us find the courage to be like Jeff and Mike.   Let more of us become passionate and truthful.   Sensitive yes, but not to the point that we become dishonest to tickle the ears of those to whom we speak or quiet and non-decisive, paralyzed by fear of offending someone.

Lord, help me be what you have called me to be...help me have the courage to step over the edge!





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The Blessing of Scallops!

It was a beautiful, sunny day.   July 29th, 2002.  Jeff and I had planned to go scalloping with friends from the church.   Neither of us had ever been, but we loved snorkeling and this sounded like loads of fun.   Off to the store I went in search of snacks and drinks for the boat.   Somewhere around the soda aisle of Winn Dixie, I felt a strange tickle in my throat.  I coughed in an effort to relieve the tickle but it only made it worse, one cough leading to another, and another, and another.   Hurriedly, I grabbed the closest case of soda I could find and headed out of the store.   Surely I must be allergic to something in the store.

By the time I reached the cashier, my lips were blue and people were looking at me like something was really wrong.   What was wrong with these people?   Hadn't they ever seen someone have a coughing fit before?   The cashier then said, "Ma'am, can I help you, do I need to call 911?"  Seriously!   It's just a tickle...I thought!

I hurried out of the store and headed to my home, just 2 miles down the road.   Praying, I asked God to stop the coughing...but it grew more violent by the moment.  About half way home, my prayer changed, asking God to just let me make it to the house before I died.   I could feel myself slipping...getting very dizzy and weak.

I pulled into the driveway haphazardly and stumbled from the car to the house.   As I opened the door, Jeff took one look at me and was instantly on his feet, catching me just as my legs gave way...but the violent coughing continued.  I was dying...I knew I was.  

Moments later paramedics arrived and started giving me care to open my airway.   I was loaded in an ambulance and spent the next several days in an ICU unit.   I was diagnosed with asthma and my doctors then explained to me how close I actually came to dying.  

So much for scalloping.   There would be no trip in my foreseeable future.  Our friends who were going to take us realized what the outcome would have been had the attack come just a couple hours later.  There was no way they would be taking me on a boat.  I didn't blame them.   Nope, it was not going to happen.

That was fourteen years ago.

For fourteen years I have not done the things I wanted to do because I have asthma.   Ir has robbed me of precious moments that I longed to spend with family and friends.

I'm happy to report that THAT has changed!   No more bondage to asthma.   Do I still have it?  Yes, and unless God divinely heals me, I will have it for the rest of my life.   But I don't have to let it control me.

God has blessed me with increasingly better health.   Last year, I mowed my grass for the first time in years...this year, I mow it once a week!   (Not sure about that part of the blessing!)   I can be outside in the heat of the day and do just fine!  But the icing on the cake came for me yesterday when I finally got to go on that scalloping trip.   Fourteen years later, but I went!   I swam the whole time and even dove for a few scallops...although, I learned I like bagging them and my husband is much faster than I am.   I will proudly wear the title, "Bag Lady"!   Each time I pulled one of those scallops from Mike's hand, it was like I was taking back what the devil stole from me, and just being able to snorkel and see all the sealife was amazing in itself.  

I know that for most people it would just be a scalloping trip...no big deal.   But for me, for me it was a victory.   Piece by piece, God is restoring my life.   He has blessed me beyond anything I could've dreamed of.    Far beyond anything I deserve.   Have I suffered loss?   You bet I have!   But God has comforted me and restored my life.    I will praise Him!  

Thank you, Lord, for scallops...and grass that grows too fast.   Thank you for restoring my health and my life.    I will not take it for granted and I will give You praise for every blessing.

The Weight of the Shepherd

By this time tomorrow evening, I will be an ordained minister in the Assemblies of God.   It is a moment I have dreamed about for years.   It was twenty years ago, this month,that I stood beside Jeff McFalls as he recieved his ordination in the Georgia District.  As my ordination draws near  I find my spirit burdened.   I'm excited, but the responsibility that comes with this ordination has been heavy on my mind as each day passes.

This past week, I found myself alone in the house, doing some editing and I ran across an old cd of one of Jeff's sermons.   It was titled, "A Calling and A Warning".   It grabbed my attention so I plugged it in.  Turns out it was one of his Wednesday night teachings.   Wednesdays were always a time of intimate teaching for him and what he shared on this particular night, though it was years before his death, hit me square between the eyes.

He spoke on Ezekiel 34...a passage that addresses those in ministry rather harshly.

1The word of the Lord came to me: 2“Son of man, prophesy against the shepherds of Israel; prophesy and say to them: ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: Woe to you shepherds of Israel who only take care of yourselves! Should not shepherds take care of the flock? 3You eat the curds, clothe yourselves with the wool and slaughter the choice animals, but you do not take care of the flock. 4You have not strengthened the weak or healed the sick or bound up the injured. You have not brought back the strays or searched for the lost. You have ruled them harshly and brutally. 5So they were scattered because there was no shepherd, and when they were scattered they became food for all the wild animals. 6My sheep wandered over all the mountains and on every high hill. They were scattered over the whole earth, and no one searched or looked for them.

In this passage, the Lord is addressing those who He has called to take care of his flock.   He is quite upset with them because they are not doing what they have been called to do.  Reading this again, made me look at my calling and do a gut-check evaluation of what God has called me to do.   I received my calling at 15 years of age.   When I married Jeff and we entered full time ministry, I thought I had fulfilled that calling.   But when he died, it became clear to me that those 25 years were only part of the calling.  God had something entirely different for me.

I wish I could tell you that I knew exactly how that was going to look for me...I can't.  I am thankful to have a supportive husband and that he is open for whatever direction the Lord leads us.   All I can say at this point is that I never want God to have to address me the way He did these priests in Ezekiel 34.   

To my fellow ordination candidates, I would implore you to read this passage.  Being an ordained minister is a calling.   It does not elevate us in any way.   It doesn't give us special rights and privileges...if anything, it calls for more sacrifice on our part.  We are called to be ministers...pastors...shepherds.   This is the most important thing we can do in life.   It comes with great honor, but it also comes with great responsibility.   Do not take this mantle lightly.   It is holy, it is heavy...but I would not want to do anything else with my life.

On one of our mission trips to Ecuador, our friend, Bill McDonald took us on a trip high in the mountains.   Scattered around the mountainside were these little shanty-sheds, no bigger than a doghouse or a small pump house.   They were too far away from any homes to be pump houses and I didn't think a dog house in the middle of a steep field made much sense, so I asked Bill what they were.  He explained to me that they were shepherd huts.   That the shepherds would leave the comforts of home for days at a time and face the elements to protect the sheep.   They would rest or seek shelter in these little shacks, while their flock grazed along the mountainside.   That visual picture is the picture I get when I think about the level of dedication we are called to.   We are called to the uncomfortable.   We are called to sacrifice...sometimes to even be pulled away from the comforts of home while watch over those entrusted in our care.   We are called to be diligent and watchful...looking for things that may attempt to snare one of these precious lambs.  Shepherds smell like sheep.   The calling is great, but so is the reward.

Tomorrow night, as that mantle is placed on my shoulders, I believe I will feel the weight of it differently.   I wouldn't change a thing...I am humbled and honored to be called to be a minister.   Lord, use me as you choose.   When you choose.   And where you choose.   Help me to be faithful to always answer Your call with a "yes" and to remember that the calling of shepherd comes with much responsibility.   Here I am, Lord...send me.

Shut the Door!

  “And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full.6But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.7And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words.8Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him."  Matthew 6:5-8  

It's been a long time since I sat down at my laptop and found the time to write.  Tonight, I am having some respiratory issues and so I find myself with time to spare and the house is quiet.   This blog has been on my heart for some time.   I'm so glad I finally get to write it down!

I've found that sometimes it is just so hard to shut out the world and all its craziness.   But it is important to do so.   When we shut the door on outside distractions, God opens new doors we never dreamed possible.   Shut out the world?  Are we allowed to do that as Christians?   You bet we are!

Christ did it.   He called it prayer.   As a matter of fact, He modeled it for us.   And he thought it was so important, He gave us some very specific guidelines for prayer.   Recently, I was reading this passage and verse 6 really popped out to me.   "But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen."   Why would he tell us to close the door?  Well, I think it is because He understood the power of distraction.  

When you close the door you, in essence, close off distractions.   When I want to have Mike's full attention, I wait until I can get him in our room, with the door shut.   A closed door indicates that something private or intimate is taking place behind the door.   So when I close the door behind me in prayer, it is an indication that something private or intimate is taking place between me and my Lord.

Now, let me say this and please don't take offense...it is not intended to be an offensive statement.   When I have something to say privately to Mike, I do not broadcast to all of Facebook that I am going into my bedroom to speak with my husband.   Why would I do that?   Wouldn't that be the opposite of what I'm trying to do?  

So why would I think it's a good idea for me to announce to everyone that I am going into my prayer closet?   Now granted, from time to time I do think it is ok to ask friends if they have needs you can pray with them about.   I'm not at all saying we shouldn't do that.   My thought is if Christ's instruction to us is to go in and close the door,  perhaps He wants to share something intimate and private with us.   Maybe we shouldn't be so quick to bring others in for that.   Maybe we should trust Him to open the doors he promises to open, if only we will shut the door behind us.  I know that many times I haven't trusted Him to open doors and so I have kicked them in only to come up short in the end.

So maybe the next time you feel God calling you away to your quiet place with him, don't be so quick to bring visitors with you.   It's ok to just be alone with Him.  After all, we are His bride.   Maybe it's time we learn to just SHUT THE DOOR!

Priceless Parts

She's a beauty.   '85 Corvette, Garnet with tan/gold interior.   Just beautiful!  Mike didn't realize when we bought her from a friend, that not only was she born the year I graduated from high school, she is also in the colors of my alma mater!   And she is the only one who can hum without annoying him!   And hum she does!  When we crank her, the house vibrates...she is quite amazing.   We now understand what our friend, Burt, said when he sold her to us and told us he had a love/hate relationship with her.

You see, although she is beautiful, and she sounds amazing, she has issues.   One morning Mike decided he would take her to town to run a few errands.   On the way out of the driveway, he stopped and got out to move something from the driveway.   The next thing he knew, he was chasing her to keep her from going into the street!   He then realized that she refused to go into park...or reverse!   Stubborn little thing!  She was stuck in drive!  Thus began the "hate" part of our relationship.

A little bit of diagnostic investigation helped him conclude that the transmission shift cable had snapped.    Now, let me tell you that before he reached that conclusion, we had to completely rip out the dash, the steering wheel, and the console.    There are LOTS of parts hidden by all that plastic!!!  I now know why mechanics charge so much!

I know that anyone who knows me has got to be picking up their jaw to hear me say "we" ripped out the dash or that "we" did anything mechanically together, but life is different for me now.   I've discovered new things that I enjoy.   I love a good puzzle and I learn new things every time I help Mike (which usually just means handing him a screwdriver or wrench).   This time, however, what I learned wasn't necessarily about cars, as much as it was about people.

You see, as beautiful as this car is and as wonderful as she sounds, Mike has known since we bought her that something wasn't right.   A little skip here or a little jump there.  To me, it went unnoticed but no so with him.   Just like her, many times we look like we have it all together or sound like we have it all together, but we are just one shift away from snapping.    To everyone else, you may look perfect...but you can hide some serious issues with a beautiful facade.   But only for so long...sooner or later the "snap" will come.

My inclination when I looked around and saw the whole thing torn apart was to push her to the front yard and put a "FOR SALE" sign on her.   Mike had a different idea...he was determined to fix her.   He ordered all the parts needed and when they came in he spent days putting them on and adjusting them just right.   I think we spent one whole day with him under the car and me inside it...shifting gears and then back to park...over and over and over.   I was bored in no time, but he was determined to fix it and fix it right.   That is the way God is with us.   When others would be ready to slap a "FOR SALE" sign on us or maybe even just fix us enough to get by, He won't stop until the issue has been fixed.   For us it is painful and it feels like we've been ripped apart at the seams.   To the onlooker, our life may just look like a pile of parts...some broken, but all dismantled and seemingly junk.   That is when God is doing His best work.

That sweet little Corvette is singing again now.   But Mike's not done...there are parts waiting in our garage for him to replace.    A little at a time.   He's still working on her.   Making her better.    I see God doing that with me.   He fixes the broken parts first, but then in order to make me better, He sometimes strips me bare again so that He can fine tune what lies beneath the facade.   That's what He does with His church, too.   Sometimes things are broken and need repair...and sometimes, they just need to be made better.   To the untrained eye, it all looks the same...parts strewn all over the place...big mess.    He sees the finished product...a beautiful, rare jewel that is to be loved and handled gently.

The next time you feel like you've been dismantled, or maybe you look at your church and see a big pile of parts that doesn't seem to work anymore, think about what God may be up to.   Imagine Him as the master mechanic, working on a classic beauty...then just listen for the hum.    My bet is that He won't stop until she is amazing!

Lesson from the Wilderness

There is a stirring in my soul.   I don't know any other way to describe it.   An unsettling.   A sense that He wants me to grow and that somehow perhaps I've grown too comfortable.   That is hard for me to comprehend because it feels very much like I have been in the wilderness...a desert...a dry and desolate place.   I have felt more disconnected, discontent and uncomfortable than I recall feeling for a long time.  

I have blamed it on a lot of things.   The death of my husband and my friend.   A new life with a new husband and the craziness of all that entails (although he is an absolute blessing in my life!)   No longer being in full time ministry.   Being incredibly busy.   Satan attacking because he knows God has something He wants me to do.  Feeling like I no longer am valuable in the kingdom.

However,  God lead me to a passage of scripture and through it He pointed out to me that indeed God himself has led me into this wilderness.   Why would God do this?   Because sometimes there are lessons that can only be learned in the wilderness.   There is a growth and a maturity that comes from time spent in the wilderness.   He leads us into the wilderness to prove to us that he will always be with us.

Look at this passage with me...Matthew3:16-17  Jesus has just been baptized by John the Baptist and God himself speaks and says this is my son and in him I am well pleased.  And look what happens right after in chapter 4... Jesus was led by the spirit into the wilderness.   Did you hear that?   He was led by the spirit into the wilderness.   God led his son, whom He loved, into the wilderness to be tested.   What made me think that my being in the wilderness was a sign that God was unhappy with me?   Or that God no longer heard me?   Or that I didn't matter any more?   That's certainly not why God led His son to the wilderness.   In fact, this passage leads me to believe the opposite is more true...and if God would lead His son, the one He loved and the one who pleased him, into the wilderness, why should I, as a Christ-follower be surprised when He leads me there as well?

When I think "wilderness" in a physical sense, I think adventure.   I live in what many have called the wilderness.   In the middle of the Appalachicola National Forest is the place I call home.   My manly husband loves spending hours deep in the woods (wilderness) and I love going out there with him.   Everytime we go out there, I return with something new I've learned.   What strikes me most about our trips to the woods is the creativity of God.   There are so many different types of plants and animals that my mind cant take it all in.   Yet God created each one and placed them in the perfect place to thrive.   This wilderness, far different from the barren land we read about when the Bible refers to wilderness, is lush and thick with vegetation, yet it still is a place where solitude is possible.   It makes me wonder if that's the idea God has in mind when He leads us there...to take us to a place where distractions fall away and we find ourselves alone with Him?

So why does a spiritual wilderness bother me so much, when I love the physical wilderness.   I think its because I was looking at this place all wrong.    I was looking at the wilderness as a place of punishment, much like it was for the Israelites.   It felt like I was wandering around, lost and alone...abandoned would be a good word.   But after reading about the wilderness Jesus was in, my perpective has changed.   Granted, I want to be certain that my actions don't turn my brief walk in the wilderness into a forty year journey!!!   This requires an attitude check...am I grumbling and complaining or do I see the wilderness as a place to pray, to be alone with God?

I  believe God leads us to the wilderness for seasons in our life.   We can choose to grumble and complain, or we can take in the beauty of our surroundings...and trust that God knows what He is doing!   I choose to do the latter.

Thank you, God, for taking me to the wilderness.   Help me to never resent the times you steal me away to a place of solitude with you.    Help me to trust You and remember that You are preparing me for my future.    Help me to be aware and learn every lesson You wish to teach in the wilderness.

Stop!

My daughter is always challenging me to play new games with her.   Usually, she finds a new game, enjoys it for a few weeks, challenges me to play, gets me hooked and then she moves on to something bigger and better.   And I'm hooked.   Like addicted to this new game!  She did it again this week.   Well, actually she challenged Mike to play and I overheard...couldn't resist!

This new game is called Stop! and it works kinda like Scattegories.   Anyone who knows me, knows I LOVE word games so this one had an instant draw.   So the object of the game is to find words that fit into 5 categories that begin with a particular letter and to do it all with only moments on the clock.  Yesterday, I found myself spending valuable time, time that I should've been doing something productive, playing this stupid game!  

I made up words...knowing full well that the words I made didn't fit the category, but hoping against all hope that I could outsmart that blasted game!   In the midst of my frustration with this game, God spoke to me.   I know, that's crazy, but that's the way He gets my "ADD" attention.   Yesterday, He just said, "Stop!"...using a game by the same name.

He showed me how much I depend on my own wisdom and experience for words...and when I do that creates a struggle that brings unwarranted stress into my life.  Whether I am playing a game or trying to counsel a friend,  He reminded me that I was searching for words, when searching for the Word would be a much better use of my time.   You see, it is very easy for me to get lost in a game...but it had been a while since I got lost in the Word.   

I was trying to be a wordsmith, when what I needed was the Word.   John 1:1, tells us that, "in the beginning was the Word, and Word was with God, and the Word was God."   He's been there all along.   

Psalm 119:105 says, "Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path."   How many times do I struggle to find my way...to make sense of this crazy world we live in...without going to the Word for direction?   

The odd thing is that I KNOW how much life comes from being in the Word.   You have witnessed how God has spoken to me in my darkest hours through His life-giving Word.   Why in the world would I ever neglect to read His Word?   And I've even been studying for my ordination to become a minister!   What I realized, was that even though I was reading to study for my exam, I had become too busy to actually let the Word minister to me.   I was reading it, but I didn't have time to allow the Lord to speak to me.   I got a mental picture of Him watching me read His Word and then saying, "Stop!   I want this to sink in...you need this more than you know!"    

I realized that when I write, I usually write with the hope that someone will stop, and read it, and find meaning in it.   I believe that desire came straight from God.  I am created in His image, so I believe that desire to have my words not only read, but to have them bring hope to those who read, comes from the one I am created to be like...The Word himself. The One who can speak life-giving words into whatever category of life we find ourselves in, because He is the Word!

Lord, help me STOP everything that would hinder me from Your Word, today!