It’s Not Black or White…..

I grew up being told by our pastor that we couldn’t straddle the fence.  The funny thing is, 30 some years on the other side of that teaching, I don’t think he ever really grasped the fullness of what he was teaching.  I understood that to mean, we couldn’t be Christians and still keep living like those who are not.

Tripping over my own self

Some people are naturally nimble.  Tripping over their own two feet doesn’t EVER happen to them.  They walk through life, adroitly, never even considering the possibility that they might trip, let alone actually doing it!

I, on other hand, am not generally someone of that ilk.  I am the person that, wearing a BRILLIANTLY red dress, stepped on a piece of lettuce on the stairs in a restaurant, slipped and slid down the stairs, causing my then-date-soon-to-be-husband to do the only thing he could – lift his leg, so I could slide through and land in a red pile at the bottom of the stairs.  (Red face, red shoes, red body, red dress.  Yep, definitely a pile o’ red!)

So, I guess it shouldn’t come as any surprise, that as I take the situation in Haiti to my prayer closet – to mull over – to cry out to Him – to seek my Father’s face, I find myself tripping over my own self.

Romans 8:18-22 keeps showing up in the midst of these times of prayer and it’s these:  “For the anxious longing of the creation waits eagerly for the revealing of the sons of God.”  That cause me to stumble.

Because, that’s me – that’s us!  The Sons of God.  Know what my Bible says about that?  It says, “the term “sons” is a legal term indicating the position of a son – either through adoption or inheritance – that indicates the privileges, obligations and inheritance rights of said son.”

Creation – certainly Haiti – is anxiously longing for me to reveal myself as a son of God – so Holy Spirit, rather than continuing to trip,  as a son, Father, what is my obligation in this hour?!  I ask that You would lead and direct me, so that I might walk in a way worthy of my position.

How to Prepare to Die

For years now, my neighbor has been going around telling everyone that when he died, his greatest goal was to leave behind the biggest amassed collection of stuff that our town has ever seen.  He wanted to be known as the man who had THE BIGGEST auction in the history of our entire county.  He has just recently died and I think he probably managed to accomplish that, as he left behind three houses FULL of stuff.  (The one across the street from us has 3 floors full of things, in addition to the front porch and the garage that are both full.  The other two houses are a block away and they are equally as full.)

However, the thing that has been most interesting to me is hearing from the people that he spoke to in the final months leading up to his passing.  He knew that he was dying.  In fact, last November (2008) they told him he would not make it even a few months.  They told him to stop driving and…well, basically to curl up and die.  He refused.  He made it eleven more months than they told him he would.

During those eleven months, he was very aware of how short the time was.  He made a point to talk to more people. He wanted them to hear what he had to say. He wanted to talk with them about what was most important to him – and what he wanted them to remember about him.  He wanted to share his passion for the treasures that he had collected.  He wanted to share his general concern for the state of our nation and for the state of our community in particular.  (He was especially concerned about the number of unemployed people in our area.  Losing so much of the RV industry has hit our area pretty hard.) He was just looking for someone who had ears to hear his heart.

As I hear these stories, it occurred to me, as we prepare to die, we are most likely to share the things that are of greatest importance to us.  I know if someone were to come to me with the news that their time on earth was short, I’d want to hear what they had learned in this life and what they considered to be THE MOST important.  I remember, too, hearing Inga Cannon encourage us to parent as though our time was very short with our children, in order to keep the right focus.

That got me to thinking – what better way to prepare my heart/spirit for the new year, than to spend time this week focused on reading and meditating the things that Jesus shared at the very end of His life.  What did He consider to be THE MOST important?  What did He want us to remember about Him? I am hopeful that it will help me keep the right focus for my own life and help me to share in His greatest passion/s as well, because whether I can see it – or pin it down or not – time is short.  And I want to make certain I have ears to hear His heart.

Blessings dear friend, upon your New Year!  May you too have ears to hear and may both our faiths be enriched and expanded!

(copied from my musings on my FB account…again.)   

Overheard in my kitchen….

Daughter 4 speaking to Daughter 5: “Dad took Niecia to get coffee for their date – they had a sign that says, “Unattended children will be given an espresso and a puppy.”

Daughter 5 response:  “Seriously?!!  What kind of puppies are they and when is it my turn to go on a date with Dad? All I have to do is sit at another table, right?  This is SO kewel!!”

I think she missed the point.  *Sigh*

What Child IS This?

I have a challenge for you – sit down right now and tell yourself (or someone else) the nativity story.

This past weekend, while the kids were at the Holy Walk, I sat down to tell Davenna (Squishy) the nativity story. I found it to be a very enlightening. I could have read it, but instead we sat down with the plastic nativity and I told her the story, giving it a little “action.” (VERY little, but action, none the less.)

Bible Math

I suspect most people don’t end up seeing the same things I do when I am in the Word.  I guess that’s probably a good thing. 

Today, all I could see was a simple math equation of A + B = C .

A = 3 John 1:2.  God says, “I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth.”

B = Philippians 4: 5b & 6a. ” The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything.”

All comes together in my mind to equal C:  A few stress related diseases – Acid Peptic Disease, Alcoholism, Asthma, Fatigue, Tension Headache, Hypertension, Insomnia, Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Ischemic Heart Disease, Psychoneuroses,  Several Skin diseases – and this is an incomplete list, as it doesn’t even touch on the effects stress has on our hormones and brain neurotransmitters or the studies that are being done on the connections between stress and things like colds, herpes, AIDS and even cancer!!!

So, if (A) God says He desires above all things that we would be in health and He created those bodies that He desires to be in health, AND (B) He specifically tells us to be anxious for nothing because He is at hand and yet,  the majority of the diseases our nation is struggling with are stress related then (C) He didn’t even create our bodies to endure extended periods of stress.

Instead, Father has given us a spirit of sonship, that we might cry Abba!  Father! (Which a dear Jewish man just recently explained to me was an indication that we were to know Him both, emotionally: Abba and intellectually: Father)  His intention was – and always has been – that we would live so wholly dependent upon Him and His care of us, that we need not ever experience stress.

And before you ask, yes, I really do believe it.  Do I have success at walking it out?  I’m getting there.

What are you wearing?

This week, my mother in law will be 85.  (Wow, reading that, it sounds old, but that comes of marrying a man whose father graduated from high school the same year my mother was born)   

Because of this, we are planning a full-family party for grandma.  This means nieces and nephews will be coming from all over the US.  It will be good to see everyone again.  HOWEVER….

The dynamics of this party are making for some rather odd clothing needs.

Happy Hanukkah~

This will be super short – not only is this Sabbath, but it is also the beginning of Hanukkah.  The apple sauce is done, the roast is in the crock pot and we splurged and got Krispy Kreme raspberry filled donuts for dessert!  Woot!  That’s a first for us. (The kids are thrilled. It makes that extra transcribing job worth every ounce of energy.)  So, as you can see, we are quickly winding down – heading toward Shabbat and Chanukkah celebration.  (A double blessing!)

But, I couldn’t exit the week without offering a blessing to our Lord!

Blessed art Thou, O Lord, our God, sovereign of the universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments.  We delight in and love you.  Blessed are You for performing miracles both great and small in the lives of Your children.  We, Father, are the perfect examples of the recipients of Your miracles.  We are grateful that You are the same yesterday, today and tomorrow.  Tonight, we will celebrate Your faithfulness and desire to minister miracles to Your children.  You are faithful and Your lovingkindness endures forever!  Blessed art Thou, O Lord, our God, sovereign of the universe, who has kept us alive, sustained us and enabled us to reach this season!  Bless Your Name!

Shabbat Shalom and Chanukkah blessings everyone!

Here, come share a cup of hot tea with me!

Man, is it cold!  It’s about 5 right now, with a wind chill. (I don’t even want to know what that wind chill is. Truly ignorance is bliss in this situation.)  SO, come on in, sit down here in my cozy little library and have a cup of tea with me.  (Or java, if you’d rather. There’s still some Trader Joes in the pot, I’m sure.)

There is even a little bit of Black Bottom Smoosh left from Squish’s 4th birthday this past weekend.  (They used to be cupcakes, but someone efficiently put them all in a Ziploc bag and crammed them into the bread box…hence “Smoosh.” It’s not a pretty sight.)

The Guest Room

Growing up, my Grandmother always had a guest room.  It was reserved solely for guests.  No one ever went in there, unless they were the guest assigned to it.  (Or Grandma, who went in there and cleaned every so often.)

Grandma didn’t store things she used with any kind of regularity in there.  She didn’t hide things in there. (Like Christmas presents or cool things she found during one of her many shopping sprees.) She didn’t go in there and sit to read, when she was seeking a quiet moment.  She didn’t sew in there.  (Oh no, she had her sewing room for that) She didn’t do any kind of anything, but dust and change the sheets, in that room.  She even kept the door closed!  (I suspect dust lived in fear of that place!)

Until I came to visit.

Boy! I liked that room.  It had two twin beds that could be put together, if a larger bed was needed, but generally remained apart.  Just far enough apart that, if you did it quickly and quietly, it was possible to jump back and forth from one bed to the other without being caught.  I am not certain how I could possibly know that, but I do.

I liked the cozy little reading chair tucked in the corner, perfectly situated just far enough away that one could rest their feet on the little settee that was at the end of the bed on the right. (That would be the settee which tended to tip over if one was careless with their jumping.)

There was a tiny little table that sat next to the chair, that was the perfect size for a cup of green tea and a napkin full of cookies. There was a floor lamp just tall enough to emit the perfect amount of light onto one’s book.  There was the delicious soft cashmere blanket that was thrown over the back of the chair, begging to be cuddled up with.

But, most of all what I liked the most about that room, was that it was always empty and devoid of all “the stuff” that my bedroom with my sister always held.  You know, Barbies, books and other typical girl stuff crammed into one very small bedroom.

On the contrary, Grandma’s room was clean and pristine and just waiting for me to come and visit and mess the blankets on the “other” bed, leave cookie crumbs under the table and the settee at a funky angle.

That’s kind of how I feel about this blog.  It reminds me of Grandma’s guest room.  It has been dusted, cleaned and the door shut for a while.  I have hesitated to come back and muss the blankets, leave crumbs about and mark it with my presence anew.

Tonight, however, I was “walking” past it (because of the comment notice) and I couldn’t resist opening the door and peeking in.  So, here I am.  I think while I’m here, I’ll eat a few cookies and do a bit of jumping.  Maybe you will hear me…and join me?