Palm leaf cross

I admire this man.  As he stood in our food line across from the bus station, my eyes latched onto something he carried.  “Welcome.  Happy to see you today,” I greeted.  “I’m hoping you’ll tell me something.  I’m curious about what you’re holding.  How do you use them?”  Explaining that he rises early in the morning to climb the palm trees and claim these leaves, he then designs crosses and sells them during the day to earn $40 to pay his rent.  All the while he’s talking, I’m trying to imagine his final product that these slivers of palm leaves become.  “I won’t lie,” he says, “I was locked up.  But I don’t do drugs anymore.  I make these crosses.”  Honestly I wanted to continue talking, but our food line required moving along, so our team gladly bundled his dinner and added a nice bottle of cold water.  But then about 20 minutes later, here he comes.  We’re folding tables and cleaning up, and he wants to give me something.  Suddenly I realize, “This is one of your crosses, isn’t it?”  “Yes,” he replied, “it’s for you, and I’m not asking you to pay.”  So honored I felt that he would share with me, and my heart brimmed full of joy for his discovery of Christ.  What a huge hurdle he had stared down in the course of changing his life.  Reminding me of how God often blesses any single situation in multiple ways, the whole scene was humbling.  Having trekked downtown to serve hot dogs and snow cones to others, in turn I was fed a most nourishing meal of inspiration.  Romans 5:17 tells us, “For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through that one man, how much more will those who receive God’s abundant provision of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ.”  Thank you, Lord, for making Your righteousness available to us all.

Constructing the goal

Do you have a fun holiday memory?  Our trip to the Dallas area last month still makes me smile, yet maybe in an unsuspecting way.  We drove to visit family and offered to help assemble their new basketball goal.  Outside temperature was in the 30s, so we opted for opening the big box in the garage.  My brother led the charge, my husband collaborated on tools and problem-solving, and my nephews and I at different times stood near to await our assignments.  Actually the “stood near” part is a loose term because some certain nephews who remain nameless here seemed to have a knack for disappearing from the work site.  Nevertheless, this was the only time I could remember us building something together, so I was excited.  Soon I’m chuckling at how motley a crew we are.  Emanating from one side of the garage, distinct sighs of boredom set in.  From another direction, a complaint:  “It’s cold!”  With my brother staying studious to the manufacturer’s instruction sheet, my husband asked, “Hey, do you have a rat-tail file?,” to which one nephew answered, “I have no idea what these tools are!”  I then hear a reprimand to another nephew for playing on his phone.  An adult chimes in, “Uh-oh, we skipped a step.”  Another, “How far back do we need to go?”  And really I’m still chuckling today because the task blew everybody’s cover.  Beyond any dressed-up, cleaned-up holiday presentation and without the hype of any fancy vacation, this rather mundane task of assembling a basketball goal had opened a door that I loved.  To work alongside, to find common purpose, to realize in the end that you actually don’t want to quit, even lamenting “Oh, man, we’re just now getting the hang of this!” is a true blessing.  To have discovered each other’s mechanical talents (or lack thereof), to have trudged together through one of those beleaguered trips to the hardware store to buy an additional ¼-inch tool, and to have laughed at ourselves for the honesty that’s inevitable in daily chores is actually precious insight.  Psalm 84:10 reminds us, “Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere; I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked.”  It was a Christmastime gift I wouldn’t trade.  Thank you, Lord, for opening our eyes when You bestow blessings.  And thanks to my sister-in-law for hot chocolate, knit caps, and warm gloves that day.

Regular job, or not?

Jobs.  They tire us.  They make us crazy.  But how would we spend our time if we didn’t have 40+ hours of work?  To contemplate a major change can rack the nerves.  But actually the whole of our identity isn't in the occupation.  There can be good in not being strapped to the rigors of 8 to 5.  And really the key is in our perspective of the command post.  We’re used to our tasks being humanly handed down by the man in the suit, the lady in heels, or whoever's carrying the clipboard.  But now the day is entirely open, and we can choose our Commander.  Hebrews 11:6 says the Lord rewards those who earnestly seek Him.  So we can ask God to set us in motion, upon His purposes, whether using us full- or part-time, paid or volunteer.  For me, while switching from business person to stay-at-home mom to teacher to writer to musician to actor and more, I've felt the anxiety of transition, yet I testify that life's been very exciting and immensely blessed.  Just this summer, as my theatre work is typically less, I've asked the Lord to order my steps, and He has given me new avenues to pursue.  For example, I've reconnected as volunteer to help sexual abuse victims.  It's a slightly different role this time, so I'm enduring some nervousness for what's new.  I'm continuing to pray into the very moment, remembering that when I volunteer, the Lord always keeps money in our bank account with one of His supernatural paychecks.  And He's given new amazement for watching Him orchestrate details.  What a precious privilege.  Regular job, or not, with the Lord at our helm, there's an ultimate calm upon the waters.  May we embark upon our days very intentionally as He sends us out to share His love with the world.

Valvoline: Deeper thought

Does anybody really work anymore?  Here’s why I ask.  Last week I drove over to our local Valvoline for the annual inspection on my car.  A bunch of us customers just started casually talking, and suddenly I felt my heart take a serious look into the way I live.  We all sat there for the same reason:  Because we preferred to pay Valvoline to do our work.  One lady said she also wanted Valvoline to change her oil.  Another lady wanted to find a good place to get her car washed.  Then came mention of locating a reliable lawn service.  Then still, someone was going by the salon to get her fingernails painted.  Add to all that, the fact that almost any place on the planet you can hear someone talking about eating out, and finally all this talk of paying other people to cook and clean and work for us became quite noticeable to me.  It's like buying clothes and realizing we're actually hiring someone else to do our sewing.  And the list goes on and on and on to the point of sounding like we don’t do any work ourselves because we’re always paying someone else.  When we buy books, aren’t we really paying someone else to write?  Aren’t we paying school taxes and tuition for someone else to teach our children?  And if we’re paying out all this money for other people’s work, when is it that we do any work?  The physical energy of work can be cleansing.  I remember the words of my aunt who taught decades of school children.  She told of the difference she saw when kids could no longer safely walk to school.  Students began arriving campus all pent-up because they just hopped out of the car instead of walking out their energy.  And it makes sense.  Second Thessalonians 3 tells us:  “If a man will not work, he shall not eat.”  So we know work can be a good thing.  And as this chapter 3 cautions against idleness and becoming a busybody, which is not a good thing, I've been looking introspectively to examine the types of work I do.  Sometimes my husband and I tackle a new project when we’re stressed.  Recently painting our kitchen cabinets, we knew the physical motion of taking out the paintbrushes and manually disassembling the doors helped us to unwind.  The process of rotating the screwdrivers and removing the hinges ourselves allows the emotions to release, much like the children whose walking helped them unwind before school.  And if we pay someone else to do all our work, we miss out.  In fact, our next home project is painting the fascia boards outside, and it’ll definitely involve some sweat, but it’ll also have that element of good in its physicality.  And so I wonder, how many other jobs should I consider doing on my own instead of paying someone else?  Could there be a a new task coming your way as well?

Sweet Treats

Know anyone looking for a job?  Maybe looking to change jobs?  Here’s a story.  My friends sold their house in California and moved to Texas.  Needing new work, they wondered about transplanting their fire extinguisher business, but then an uncle mentioned selling ice cream.  So they bought an ice cream truck online and later signed a 6-month lease to open an ice cream shoppe neighboring a thrift store, a church, and an Alcoholics Anonymous office.  The truck and the shoppe worked hand in hand, with children buying from the truck receiving an invitation to eat pizza and study the Bible at the shoppe.  Studies began in the summer at 7 PM, initially attracting 4 kids, then growing to host 8, with most ranging in age from 10 to 13.  And my friends loved it.  They loved the children, and they loved the teaching, all the while focusing on honoring the Lord rather than making money.  And indeed the Lord took care of them, supplying income as they had sought and supplying joy that overflowed in every direction.  One mom said, “Thank you for teaching my daughter the Bible.  I thought she’d learn about God in church, but no, it happened through our ice cream vendor.”  One neighbor from the Alcoholics Anonymous office stopped by the shoppe, being grateful to find someone willing to listen, and in turn my friends took pleasure in offering to accompany this lady to church.  But alongside blessings, there came heartache too.  One of the neighborhood boys stopped coming to study because he was removed from his parents to go live with a foster family.  And as sadness set in for my friends, they were grateful all the more to have shared at least a short time with the boy.  As they look back on this whole endeavor with ice cream, they remember it being born from the desire to experience the Lord.  And experience Him they certainly did, even when obstacles appeared.  My sweet friend who is the wife in this story grew up in Mexico, and at first she didn’t feel confident in her use of English to communicate with the ice cream customers, yet she found such delight in watching the Lord navigate the details.  In Isaiah 41:10, God comforts His people, saying, “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”  And may we each step out in complete confidence of the Lord's ability to provide on our account.

Conference neighbor with a smile

When is a conference not just a conference?  Last month I lived out the answer to that question.  Part of my job with theatre is to work conferences occasionally.  Our conference floors have the typical vendors, booths, and lots of passersby.  While hosting our booth, we meet the neighboring booths.  On this day we had a lady next-door with such a welcoming smile, and she appeared so easy to talk to.  I initiated, “Hello.  I’m Linda," and noticing she sold books, I leaned in to see her variety of children’s titles.  I asked about her company, and she asked about mine, and in the course of 30 minutes, we discovered some experiences in common.  We’d both changed jobs a lot, which led me to comment, “The Lord has taken me to some jobs I never knew I’d have.”  The words spilled from my mouth as a simple statement of fact, though afterward I wondered, would she say we had God in common?  She explained her family's rather peculiar reactions to some of her jobs, and I shared, “I’ve prayed my way through so many new roles, from teaching school to working with Boy Scouts, then to theatre, and a lot of volunteer positions along the way.”  Really a fun dialogue with her, with all kinds of laughter.  Yet never did she remark or show any facial expression regarding the Lord.  Neither to agree nor to disagree.  Neither regarding prayer.  All the same, I loved her being our booth neighbor.  I loved sharing God’s name with her.  And that’s why this conference was more than a conference.  With the Lord, anything and everything can be more than it seems.  Conference + God = Blessing.

Beyond our hospital team

Team-building.  It can be good.  My group of hospital volunteers set out last month to improve ourselves via team-building.  An effort toward considering the other person first—whether patient, visitor, staff member, or fellow volunteer.  We walk in someone else’s shoes, so to say, and thoughtfully view from their perspective.  And on this particular Wednesday, a seemingly small gesture had profound effect.  Session 1 asked us to wear a blindfold and let our partner guide our steps.  I imagined my partner holding my arm or my hand and walking alongside.  But that’s not what happened.  I stood behind my partner, and she took my left hand to place it atop her left shoulder and my right hand to place atop her right.  So simple, but what a difference.  This way, my feet would step only where both her feet had already trod.  I didn’t worry about her forgetting to warn me about anything because her whole body was step-for-step directly ahead.  We weren’t walking different parts of any aisle.  She would meet obstacles before I would.  She would withstand the brunt of any collisions.  Any turn she would encounter first.  Jesus says in John 8:12, “…Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”  And the Lord illustrated this for me with new meaning.  As a cancer patient finds comfort in a cancer survivor, as a rehab resident is encouraged by a recovered addict, as a fearful young mom heeds wisdom from her older neighbor, we find confidence in knowing Jesus walks before us, after us, and along both sides.  Never will He abandon or forget to guide.  Nowhere will He not provide for our need.  He saves us today, tomorrow, and the next day, and ultimately He saves His children from the eternal torment of death.  He's protected me countless times that I haven't realized until much later.  And on this day at the hospital, I love how He revealed Himself within the ordinary day, how He entered my thinking, how He enlightened our team-building for the grander scale of life itself.  May we ask to sense His presence.  May we know the joy of having Him lead.  There’s no inch of this earth beyond His reach.

Radiant at Chick-fil-A

Question:  How does the Lord’s light shine through people?  Answer:  Visit Chick-fil-A.  One Saturday afternoon, the Lord introduced me to a man.  My husband and I entered the restaurant while this man talked at the door with some ladies.  Such contagious laughter drew me to glance a second time, and instantly I noticed his smile that beamed so far and so wide.  Even more, he seemed to honestly care for these ladies in a way that intrigued me.  Minutes later I saw the man more closely when he approached our table to offer a drink refill.  My husband handed him the single cup we shared, yet the man returned with 2 cups.  “My boss says people are important,” he grinned.  In that moment, my whole body paused to recognize the wisdom in his words.  Therein lay the reason his smile radiated so brightly.  So truly joyful was he in the moment and so content in his manner that I soon realized my eyes releasing tears, and I wondered why.  His thoughtful interaction with people and the ease with which he moved about—he portrayed a genuine love of life that lifted me out of our more commonly cynical world.  I regularly ask the Lord to impart to me His love of people.  I don’t know exactly what that love always looks like, but meeting this man gave me a good glimpse.  The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 4:6, “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.”  And  I welcome His light to shine in my heart, both for my sake and for the sake of those I meet.  I sit to imagine what God’s glory looked like to shine over Bethlehem all those years ago.  A star that led people to know the purest of love.  A star that shines still now in the hearts of men.  May He shine His light upon you today.  May He shine through you.  Merry Christmas.

God & the AC guy

Where do you mention God, and where do you not?  How openly do we include His name in conversation?  Various versions of those questions flashed through my head when talking with our air conditioner repair guy this week.  Glad to say he fixed our AC problem with just a pound of freon, but as I signed his service papers at our kitchen table, he mentioned his daughter leaving for college.  His voice dipped in sadness.  I looked up to see his eyes do the same, and what quickly came to mind was how the Lord eased me through that same situation with my kids years ago.  Right that second when the name of God hit, there was a hiccup in my heart.  Describe it as a point of crucial decision or maybe a spiritual test. If the Lord is prompting my heart, will I follow through?  Doubt rushes in, asking "Will I offend? Will it seem like I’m pressuring him? What if he gets mad?"  Actually the questions are valid, but in the end, whom do I aim to please?  For whose sake am I willing to risk?  I shared with our AC guy how I prayed in those years before, during, and after college.  He listened and never even hinted of becoming angry.  I knew great pleasure for having offered those few sentences.  I’ve felt those little tugs too many times to ignore them.  I’ve known blessings many times over for having followed through, and I trust the Lord blessed the AC guy to hear testimony about prayer.  All days of the week, in homes and workplaces and neighborhoods and schools, the Lord creates situations for us to serve each other.  I contend that we mention His name whenever and wherever He prompts—in public, in private, in whatever circumstances He calls.  He wants our entire world to know He is here and that He loves them. 

The cupcake lady

Cynicism is contagious.  It’s infectious.  The doubt and distrust become so deeply engrained that we don’t recognize the harm they cause.  But just when you’re convinced the whole world is horrible and that altruism is dead, here comes the cupcake lady.  She quietly sets up shop and exudes this wonderfully inspiring generosity.  My friend met her in the grocery store.  The cupcake lady approached the check-out lane where my friend is a cashier.  She loaded her groceries from the cart, and as my friend scanned each item, the cupcake lady planted a seed.  My friend saw the baking cups and all the cupcake ingredients and inquired as they rode the conveyor belt.  Little did she know she would ever meet the cupcake lady again.  Then came a particularly interesting bus ride.  It happened on another day that my friend and the cupcake lady rode the very same bus at the very same time.  Because cashiers at grocery stores see all kinds of people, some days are quite trying.  Too many instances of people mistreating their children, too many scenarios of people abusing welfare systems, and the list goes on and on.  So to meet the cupcake lady on the bus and realize she made some special cupcakes for a very sweet cashier was quite timely.  Her generosity hit the spot.  Why would the cupcake lady bake cupcakes for a cashier she hardly knew and make an extra trip to the store to deliver them, though she wasn’t sure the cashier would even be working then?  Here the Lord connects the 2 people on the bus, making certain the cupcake lady’s efforts don't go in vain.  How sweet is that!  I loved just hearing the story.  I'm inspired, and I’ve never personally met the cupcake lady.  And so I ask on your behalf for the Lord to send a cupcake lady to your neighborhood.  May the Lord encourage you and protect you from that cynicism to which we're all susceptible.

A hospital mop & a string of questions

Hospitals are horrible.  That’s what some people say.  The sterile hallways.  All the blinking lights and beeps from the machines.  It can be scary.  But today I share a hospital story that has the Lord’s light shined into it.  One Friday last month, I visited a friend whose surgery would be the next week.  Part of her preparation for surgery involved discontinuing her blood-thinner, and doing so required an early hospital check-in.  By outward appearance, you’d never know the medical turmoil this friend has endured.  She’s one whose gracious smile simply beams into every corner of the room.  Her bed was on the far side this time.  Having greeted her roommate first, I walked across toward the window to hug my friend.  We talked for a while.  We sat.  We talked more and just kept company.  Then sitting bedside for us to pray, I could hear new activity in the room.  Continuing to pray, I heard the click of a mop, like when the mop head hits the handle.  My eyes opened to a new voice that promptly said, “You know just the right words.”  I turned to acknowledge the speaker, who I then saw was a female member of the hospital’s housekeeping department.  Already I loved the fact that she felt comfortable enough to jump right into conversation.  And indeed she was just getting started, for a whole string of energetic questions ensued.  “How do you know God is real?”  “What about in the beginning?  How does the idea of Jesus go back to the very beginning of the world?”  And the list went on.  Her inquiries hit deep, they made me think, and I loved it.  I stood in awe of the Lord’s orchestration.  He had set a surgery schedule, a visitation schedule, and a cleaning schedule to all intersect that day around lunchtime.  The intricate detail of when we would each depart our separate homes and each enter the parking lot, the elevators, and even that particular room on the 7^th floor was all orchestrated by God.  The idea is evidenced in 1 John 1:7, which says, “But if we walk in the light, as he [God] is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.”  As we seek the Lord and walk about this earth, He’s going to connect us in some amazing ways.  The light He shines will bring paths to intersect and send forth a fountainous fellowship of joy.  And contrary to what some say about hospitals, these moments on this Friday were quite wonderful.  Thank you, Lord.

Driving a fierce Corpus Christi storm

What’s it like to drive into a storm?  What bombards your brain when there’s no turning back?  Last weekend I shuddered to hear my friend retell this story.  Her trek on this eventful day was along the Texas coastline from Aransas Pass to Corpus Christi, which is a 30-minute stretch that usually paces pretty quick.  Having seen a storm warning on the TV morning news, she thought, “I’ll be fine.  I can’t afford to stay home.”  She pointed her little black Mazda toward the bigger city and suddenly fell victim to a darkening sky.  The purple and black were ominous, especially with the winds turning fierce.  Yellow construction signs ripped across the road, and something like seaweed strewed across her windshield.  The reality of flooding was imminent.  She pleaded, “Lord, make me strong.  I shouldn’t have left home.  I will listen to my husband next time.”  And it was then that these white lights appeared in front of her.  White lights that she could not explain.  It was a tow truck gliding just perfectly into her lane in the open spot ahead.  Nowhere earlier had she seen any evidence of this truck, yet now his 4 radiant white lights beamed a resounding message of hope.  Those white utility lights signified deliverance in a big way.  And my sweet friend arrived her workplace in fine form, having experienced the Lord literally shining His light on her dreadfully dark road.  Thank you, thank you, thank you, Lord.  And afterward her husband told her the winds had clocked at 70 mph.  Amen.

The juror's stunning phone call

Most people dread jury duty.  Most of us dread going to court.  To defend a traffic ticket or even to prosecute, it’s a hassle.  It’s tense.  But last Sunday I heard an inspiring story about a juror.  This would be someone who didn’t wriggle out of her civic duty.  It was a custody case involving a mom, her ex-husband, and their 2 children.  The mom told the story, and she’s a friend for whom I have been blessed to pray.  I had seen her in agony through the ups and downs of this trial, and now almost a year after its conclusion, my friend receives a stunning phone call.  It’s a weekday, the phone rings at work, any number of co-workers could have answered, but curiously she’s the one who reaches for this call.  The caller had seen the name of my friend’s company on a vehicle just driving around town.  She didn’t remember my friend’s name, but she remembered the company name from being mentioned in court, and she chanced the call.  She explained her role as a juror and how the Lord compelled her to pray throughout the trial and even into the months that followed.  She wanted my friend to know she was prayed for.  Often people change jobs in a year’s time, or companies are so big or privacy issues so tight that there’s no way of figuring out who somebody is.  Yet the Lord connected these 2 people.  He gave uninterrupted time amidst a busy office to convey some huge encouragement, and today we sat in awe to hear about it.  It was evidence of the Lord's love having no limit.  That's for you, for me, and for each of His children.  May you be encouraged.

Chronicle of an inexperienced tiler

I had never tiled a floor.  The idea was close to defeating me emotionally, and I saw no real reason for it to be that way.  Over the weekend, we laid out the whole roomful of tiles, including the specially-cut ones to fit around the tub and the toilet and up against the walls.  Next would be the messy part with the mortar.  Should I wait for my husband or go it alone?  I prayed.  And I prayed.  And I prayed.  “Lord, am I supposed to tile this bathroom?”  I gathered supplies:  sponge, bucket, rubber mallet, gloves.  I double-checked my Youtube sites, and momentum was gaining.  I figured if I read the instructions carefully for mixing the mortar, that would be the very same thing my husband would do, so why not proceed on my own?  Surely I could calculate proportions for liquid and dry, though I couldn’t stop imagining the magnitude of gloppy, gooey gunk this could be if I measured wrong.  I found the dolly to carry my 50-lb. bag to the back porch.  I took the bathroom scale out there to weigh everything for mixing since I wouldn’t use the 50 lbs. all at once.  I grabbed an old wooden fork for stirring; it was one I could throw away afterward.  Momentum continued to build, and I was ready to mix my first batch of mortar.  Hours passed, and certainly it was sticky work.  By the time my husband came home, I had a good case of leg pain from all the squatting and kneeling and standing back up, but it all seemed to be working.  The Slowest Tiler in the West appeared to actually be putting together a tile floor.  At 10 PM, we closed up shop.  Experienced friends who spurred us onward and a friend who loaned us his wet saw had all taken part, and we had made it.  But this isn't just a DIY how-to story, because beyond Home Depot videos and beyond Lowe’s, it was the Lord who kept me in the game.  He answered my continuous prayers and kept me from panic and fear and wanting to quit.  This tiling became a confidence-builder for me.  And I thank the Lord for His presence, for when we experience Him in one place, we grow to rely on Him for the next.  In Isaiah 41:10, the Lord says, "So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."

A plain cardboard job that dazzles

It was an occupation my friend had said she’d never do.  The idea in itself simply never seemed attractive.  Even more unappealing was the fact that my friend’s weird relative who connected her with this new job would become her daily co-worker.  Yet upon asking the Lord to provide, it was this one part-time role in home healthcare that landed in my friend’s lap, and as she explained to me recently the intriguing chain of events, I smiled to listen.  From the onset, she didn’t welcome the notion of surrendering her time with her children.  She had been reluctant too to relinquish her love of homeschooling.  Yet importantly, she allowed room for however the Lord might use her to supplement her family’s finances.  And that’s when the cardboard box arrived at her door.  On the outside, it looked plain and uneventful and even unpleasant.  On the inside, some wonderfully colorful shapes and sizes were about to be unpacked.  In the earliest days, my friend realized half of her on-duty hours would likely include sleep time for her elderly patient, consequently allowing her a little breathing room as she entered this whole environment she’d perceived as unattractive.  She soon saw also that her children could travel with her sometimes to help mow the elderly man’s grass or maybe just freshen his household with a sweet youthful grin.  She continues to witness day to day the gradual unveiling of some fascinating facets of this man’s 80+ years of life.  Evidently he did some designing in New York, and he's lived in various parts of the U.S., and still she's waiting for the right time to ask about this steamboat photo she's curious about and perhaps some elements of European history.  Altogether my friend's recent walk with the Lord has proved to be quite scenic.  All from within that plain cardboard box labeled healthcare that figuratively arrived at her front door, a wide array of colorful blessings continues to pour out.  And as all these parts work together under the umbrella of broadened perspective, my friend has been blessed too by the daily association with her particular family member she no longer considers weird.  All the more how I love the Lord for blessing my friend and for inspiring us all with a fresh look at the grace He offers every day.

Along a Certain Road

Think for a minute:  Who is your favorite person to call?  Who do you celebrate with?  Who listens when you cry deep?  This week I studied the word call in Greek, particularly the verb used in John 10:3, which says, “. . . He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.”  My dictionary offered a new tinge on the word PHONEO, which is the verb in this particular verse, saying that it implies a pleasure in the calling of each individual name.  It’s not a dutiful calling in anger like “Go clean your room!”  Neither is it a calling to reprimand for having done harm.  Here it is the sounding of a call that’s spoken with delight.  Sometimes I try to imagine hearing the Lord utter my name, and then I realize I have heard Him speak it already.  He has garnered my attention and conveyed different messages for different tasks, yet I don’t remember His pronunciation of the English spelling of L-i-n-d-a.  He understands my English when I pray, yet certainly at His disposal are ways for calling me outside the English language.  The point here is that He takes pleasure in calling us, and however it is that He pronounces our names, we can hear and choose to listen with pleasure as well.  In work, and in rest, and in intrigue and wonder, I worship Him in my decision to follow.  Today I share with you a video I created upon the Lord’s prompting.  I hope it testifies to the blessings of wanting to make my desires secondary to His.  He calls us to travel along His certain road, and I pray you know first-hand the blessings of letting Him lead.  Click Along a Certain Road or search it on YouTube.

Raised, furled, & awkwardly employed

That look of bewilderment.  I’ve been on the receiving end of it lately.  I’ve witnessed the occasional furled upper lip and definitely the awkward pause inserted into conversation.  My lack of a full-time job has seemed to be culprit for causing these puzzled reactions.  Maybe more accurately the problem has been my lack of automatic desire for full-time work.  Recently I discussed with someone about different types of work.  Unintentionally my half of our conversation centered on volunteering, and by the time we finally talked about my new employment at the community college, I heard her words spoken almost in exasperation, “Do they pay you for that?”  I noticed the tilt of her head and the near-snarl of her lip and wondered if she really meant, “Surely you bring in some kind of income, don’t you?”  On another occasion with a different person, I caught the ogling eye that politely insinuated, “How can you be satisfied with volunteering and unpaid roles?”  Maybe in this case she more pointedly meant, “Why would you want to be satisfied with unpaid roles?”  When I began teaching piano at home, I asked the Lord if I should charge a lesson fee, and if so, how much.  Such joy comes in the teaching of music, yet fees can run $25 for a 30-minute slot easily, and consequently lessons for many become an impossibility.  When I told a friend I charged $15 per lesson, she responded, “Why?  You know you can charge more, don’t you?”  All I know is that I prayed and felt inclined toward $15.  I do realize I fit neither the career mold nor the stay-at-home mold.  Honestly I want only the follow-the-Lord mold, and that’s one that has many different appearances.  All across the years of my variety of jobs, whether full-time pay, part-time pay, or no pay at all, the Lord has provided abundantly for my family the necessities of living.  Yet my friends’ recent facial expressions have reminded me that we’re strangers in this world (1 Peter 2:11).  Occasionally we’re strangers among our fellow Christians, though we love them all the same.  And actually, when we pause and rethink why we do what we do, it can be a good thing—raised eyebrows and all.

A trio of piano questions

Question #1:  A friend asked me, “Do you want to play piano accompaniments for some band students?”  Answer:  “Yes.”  And in fact, playing piano that first year led to playing multiple years.  In the process, I was blessed to find friendship with the band director and have fun interacting with the students and encouraging them.  Question #2:  Years later, this same band director asked me, “Do you want to substitute for my piano classes at the college?”  Answer:  “Yes.”  This was my first occasion to teach group piano, and it acquainted me with the community college’s children’s program that I hadn’t known existed.  Question #3:  One year later, this same band director asked, “Would you be interested in teaching the piano classes permanently?”  Answer:  “Wow.”  A flash of amazement led me to pause.  I retraced how one set of piano accompaniments had put this whole scenario in motion.  I remember praying with each step for the Lord to show whether I should accept or decline.  What I knew as joy for single events in single years had now multiplied for seeing how He had been orchestrating the larger picture all along.  Jeremiah 10:23 says, “…a man’s life is not his own; it is not for man to direct his steps.”  And now having finished the quite lengthy application process and formal interview, I look forward to January and the families I'll meet and the next step the Lord will direct for me.

Up by the bootstraps

On Friday I worked an estate sale.  People came, and they browsed and bought, and I loved being available to help my friend.  Yet something else was happening at the sale.  As customers came and went, there was opportunity to speak Spanish.  I hadn’t anticipated it, yet I found a few Spanish words rolling off my tongue.  Then a few more here and there, and the spontaneity of it was great fun.  It’s not as if I spoke for hours or told long stories or anything, but my friend had never heard me speak Spanish, and she got a kick out of it, and we laughed for a good while.  Some of the customers seemed quite surprised too at my joining in their conversations.  The wonderful blessing overall was that the laughter eased my shoulders, which had been aching with anxiety over an ever-changing list of things, both good and bad, including issues carrying over from weeks before.  Psalm 40 talks about the Lord lifting us up out of the mud and mire, and certainly I sensed the Lord lifting me.  Upon returning home that night, I mowed grass and worked outside with the radio on, soon realizing the Lord was still at work.  Air 1 Radio played “Lift Me Up” by the Afters.  Then came NeedToBreathe’s “Keep Your Eyes Open,” followed by the lyrics of Jamie Grace, saying “Lord, I love the way You hold me.”  Such common things the Lord was using to lift me, as if re-dressing me with new boots that would reset my stance and provide cushion all the way up to my shoulders.  The anxiety seemed to extract from my bones, pulling away from my shoulders and massaging at the same time.  So readily He entered my circumstances, weaving ordinary things to become extraordinary blessing.

The book of Job + $1.10

In San Antonio, $1.10 buys a seat on the bus.  Yesterday I wanted to meet my husband close to where he works across town, and then we’d drive together to church.  I paid my $1.10 on the 648, chose a seat near the front, and began reading the book of Job.  Poor Job is having a hard time, and actually that’s a huge understatement because Satan is afflicting him intensely.  I’m reading where Job is losing his livestock, his servants, and his family, and suddenly I hear a man’s voice and look up to acknowledge him taking the seat behind me.  He had recognized my Bible’s columnar pages and smiled to say he enjoyed reading too.  Genesis was the book that really made him think, he said.  He elaborated a bit, and all the while he spoke, my heart was leaping to realize this was no ordinary bus ride.  I was sitting in the midst of the Lord at work.  He was transforming the ordinary into the extraordinary.  As an orchestra conductor might cue the clarinets alongside the violas, the Lord had cued my new neighbor and me to meet on the bus that afternoon.  Only the Lord’s orchestra is exponentially more vast.  He brought joy into the hearts of 2 people who until recently had lived in distant parts of the world.  Yet never is the Lord far from His children, nor is a day with Him ever humdrum.  Especially in those occasions like Job’s when the afflictions of Satan excruciate, we find peace in knowing the Lord is near.