At the collision shop

Last week the collision shop called to say my car was ready.  I thought, “Yippee!”  We’d been hoping and waiting for the car to be repaired, ever since that sad day when I hit the deer.  So Monday I picked up the car, but less than a mile down the road, the red airbag light suddenly shone on the dashboard.  “Oh, man!”  The mechanics had worked most all of last week to solve that very problem.  It’s a crucial safety issue, so I made a u-turn back to the collision shop.  They ordered a different seat belt part this time.  Tuesday morning I picked up the car again and drove home without any glitches.  Wednesday morning that red airbag light re-appeared.  I took a deep breath and drove back to the collision shop.  The estimator and manager both apologized, and the mechanics hopped right to task.  Taking a chair in the lobby, I decided I might as well clean out my big bag of a purse.  But amongst all the gum wrappers and scraps of paper at the bottom of my bag, something unexpected happened.  With the week's car frustrations bubbling to the surface, I prayed, “Lord, may you reveal the true problem with this car.  Whatever might have been hidden or overlooked, may You reveal the cause of the problem to these mechanics.”  Humbled quickly, I realized how the Lord had changed my thought pattern.  And when the estimator came to tell me the car was ready, I thanked him and smiled and explained about my prayer.  He responded only to shrug his shoulders and crumple his lips.  He explained about the seat belt, and I pondered what my reaction would have been if I were in his shoes.  Maybe the idea of prayer was new for him.  Maybe he thought prayer didn’t belong in a collision shop.  Whatever the reason, the Lord gave such pleasure to me in offering these quick words about prayer.  Since then, I've remembered something else that happened the first time I picked up the car.  I noticed a Bible sitting on the back seat, and I recognized it as the one usually underneath our driver’s seat.  One of the mechanics must have put it there.  I wondered how the Lord might have blessed the one who found it.  I wondered too if the Lord might have even connected the discovery of the Bible with the prayer He prompted in me in the lobby.  And I stand humbled on many occasions to realize how intricate and far-reaching are the Lord’s ways.  Proverbs 3:5 says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.”  That “yippee” I exclaimed earlier in the week really did apply, yet now it held deeper meaning, for all this time spent at the collision shop had been for more than just car repair.

For nail-biters & hair-twirlers

Do you have any fingernail-biters in your house?  Any hair-twirlers?  You know anybody who opens a bag of chips at the slightest hint of stress?  This week the Lord gave me new perspective on nervousness.  It seems our hands tend to toil when we’re uneasy.  We start to fidget.  We make ourselves busy to mask the tension.  Yet there’s remedy in simply separating the hands.  Those schoolteachers who tell their students to sit on their hands aren’t altogether wrong.  And hence the posture of prayer and worship.  When I’m prostrate, my hands don’t touch.  Hands cannot twist and twirl hair.  Hands can’t pop knuckles either.  When hands raise in worship of the Lord, hands are apart.  Thumbs can’t twiddle themselves into knots.  Hands can’t open the pantry door to search out the Oreos.  To find rest is to finally quit stirring.  To find rest is to quit biting fingernails, quit trying to fix everything on our own, and quit avoiding being still with the Lord.  With hands apart, we eliminate some of those worrisome energy-wasters.  And I thank the Lord for teaching this week with simple pictures.

FM 3009

“Did that really just happen?  That animal’s body was BIG, with a whole rack of antlers!  Where did he come from?”  It took me a minute to realize I had hit him.  FM 3009 is a dark road that fells lots of deer, and at 5:30 AM, this buck suddenly stood square in front of me.  Abruptly he was there, and abruptly he wasn’t.  And a deluge of thoughts flooded my head.  (1) Do I continue driving or stop?  For several reasons, I opted to continue.  (2) I was sad for the deer.  (3) I was amazed at how the Lord protected me.  For the next couple of days, in almost disbelief, I kept staring at the clump of deer hair stuck at the crumpled part of the car hood.  Friends told me stories of how the collision could’ve caused severe injury if the deer had slid into the windshield or punctured the side window, yet in actuality he didn’t.  The Lord had guided me into prayer the night before and even in the moments immediately prior to the deer, and I felt keenly aware of the Lord with me.  I pondered the idea of how death for one could connect to any kind of wondrous experience for another, but then I thought of how God’s sacrifice of Jesus brought new and wondrous life for us.  The way the Lord brings good out of bad is a mystery, really.  And now each day that I put the key in my rent car while the collision shop repairs my Honda, I consider again the vast mysteries of the Lord.  I consider the greatness of His power and the depth of His love.  The mystery of godliness is great (1 Timothy 3:16). 

My lost Nehemiah book

Jesus came to this earth to save the lost, and usually we’re talking about people.  Me, you, and everyone.  But just as the parable in Luke 15 mentions a lost coin, this past Sunday my lost item was my Nehemiah book.  I asked the Lord to reveal it in order for me to teach from it.  Days passed, I didn’t know where it was, and I began to wonder if indeed the Lord was leading me to teach about Nehemiah, then perhaps I didn’t need this same book because He would supply me new perspective.  The next day I remembered this particular Nehemiah study was part of a 3-section book.  The following day I remembered it was one of the smaller-sized Precept books.  This past Sunday I thought to look again on the bedroom shelves.  We drove home from church, and there it was.  Bit by bit, the Lord had revealed my book.  To paraphrase Luke 15:9, I say now, “Rejoice with me; I found my lost book!”  And may the Lord bless you today in whatever way you’re feeling something’s lost.  The title of my Nehemiah book is Overcoming Fear and Discouragement.  Certainly the Lord offers encouragement for us all.

A storyteller's first step

Follow Jesus?  How do you do that?  This past Friday was key for me.  I’ve held this notion for a long time that my bus stories might be part of some storytelling.  Having once played sound effects on piano for a theater group, I’ve looked forward for years to incorporating piano alongside the bus stories, though still not knowing when.  My bus book has sat atop our piano, and I've reread the stories and jotted down tidbits of thought occasionally, though it's been only theory to this point.  Certainly prayer has been a part.  Then this past Friday afternoon the whole notion of piano resurfaced with a new momentum.  The piano bench compelled me to sit and pull together a set of TV and movie themes to play at the coffeehouse that night.  First it was “Heigh-Ho” from Snow White, then the theme from the game show Jeopardy! and the theme from Mission: Impossible.  The list went on and on, but still with only a loose image in my head of how the tunes might fit together.  The clock hit 7:15, which meant time to drive to the coffeehouse, and my eyes and my heart stood hopeful toward finding the Lord there working the details ahead of me.  We set up sound equipment and proceeded through several songs, but piano wasn't seeming to fit in the lineup.  After about an hour, I said to my husband, “I might play a little piano here.”  Yet even in that moment, I still didn’t know exactly what I would play, though I sat and started talking with the audience.  As conversation led, I inserted some piano tunes.  What developed was a very fun time of people getting to know each other.  Not quite bus stories, but rather a first step toward storytelling.  The show tunes ended up being background for talking about everybody’s workday.  Kind of a way to relax and chuckle and even include the children and the youth and their happenings from school.  Largely unrehearsed, it became sort of an interactive door for our coffeehouse crowd.  The Lord worked a whole bundle of blessings that night through guitar, oboe, and voice, and most certainly through piano.  My job was to trust Him to guide me and keep my feet from slipping, just as Psalm 121 says.  And I did gather a glimpse of how Me and the Lord on the Bus might become part of some future storytelling.  Perhaps this calls for a celebratory white chocolate latte.

Off-stage with the cashier

Last week I walked into a restaurant and heard some disturbing words.  “I’m going to hell,” the cashier laughed.  But I didn’t laugh.  Hell is too terrible a place, and it lasts forever.  I wanted to be sure the cashier knew she had a choice.  Did I take her comment too seriously?  I’ve met people who say “go to hell” so casually, as if the idea is harmless, as if it’s not real.  I’ve met people who don’t recognize the name of Jesus as the one who can save them from hell.  I’ve asked the Lord to give me His love for people that I may genuinely reach out.  For dinner, our waitress placed some scrumptious chicken and cornbread on the table, but nothing swayed me from hoping to talk to the cashier again, and I asked the Lord for an open door.  Time came to pay our bill, and sure enough, I see the same cashier still on duty.  I paid my tab, and lo and behold, I hear my voice aloud, “I kept thinking about what you said when we walked in tonight.  I’m so thankful Jesus saved me.  And because no one has to go to hell [meaning we all have a choice], do you know Jesus? ”  She smiled to answer, “Yes.  I know I shouldn’t be saying what I did.  It’s just that I did something bad.”  And as she spoke, my heart sighed to know that deep down she did know the Lord.  What relief.  And how blessed I always feel to speak the Lord’s name into public air.  Throughout the week the Lord set me in the middle of several similar interactions.  All happening 6 hours from home on a theater trip.  All woven amidst my usual theater nervousness and my usual lack of sleep.  All this impossible if I had chosen not to follow the Lord into this realm of theater that’s new for me.  But when the Lord orchestrates, my attention turns, and my nervousness dissipates.  I love to see Him at work.

Out of theater's nervousness

Theater rehearsals make me nervous.  Shakiness enters my chest.  My focus struggles.  It’s difficult to sit still, and I hardly sleep.  This past Tuesday was no different.  I hopped in the car before 6 AM and drove to my director’s house.  Remembering lines and trying to blend all the critique, I needed just to keep moving.  No time for asking why this or why that.  Just handle the music cues and the props and stay at it.  Rehearsal finished, and as I’d seen our various roles fitting into place, I knew the Lord had been rehearsing right there with me.  In my chest where I used to feel shaky I now felt warmth and fullness.  Yet still a wider door of wonder was about to open.  My mom told me she had prayed for me to find joy in the midst of rehearsal.  Actually her words stunned me a bit.  I had prayed more about the mechanics of rehearsal whereas she had considered the spirit of it all.  And so I pondered with new perspective and quickly smiled to remember our laughter during rehearsal.  The Lord had given me gracious friends who let my brain relax enough to just enjoy everyday life and everyday talk.  He had led the way for this tightly-woven bundle of nerves to loosen and unwind and see Him at work.  I experienced Him walking alongside through another segment of this theater path that seems scary at times, but He faithfully keeps pointing the flashlight to guide my next step.  There’s a lot of on-the-job training in this Christian walk.  But He constantly delivers joy into the lives of those who love Him (Romans 8:28 adapted).

A duet of three

A new harmony rang out.  The new sound was all the more sweet because of how harried our road had been.  Parenting problems.  Piano logistics problems.  Computer problems.  The list went on and on, and suffice it to say, we were strapped in stress.  My friend stood at the piano, and I sat to play, and somewhere in the mix of our singing, this new harmony blossomed, and we savored it from the very first moment.  Without stopping to acknowledge it, we found nourishment in it and cleansing.  “Lord, I need You, oh I need You.  Every hour I need You.”  How perfectly the lyrics fit our depth of fatigue, and so we sang and sang more and repeated and repeated again.  When the song quit singing, the piano kept playing.  When the piano quit playing, the Spirit still hovered, almost as if my sustain pedal on the piano sustained the Holy Spirit’s presence.  My friend and I stayed motionless and realized our streams and rivers of tears.  Beyond musical pitches, beyond any great set of lyrics, in a different realm our duet had become a trio, and we didn't want the experience to release.  In this flourish of harmony, blessing had entered the air, and we simply delighted to breathe.

God & Vistaprint

Did you know God works with Vistaprint?  You know that website with all the coupons for business cards?  Last night He proofed my order.  Right after I hit the Submit button, I thought twice that I should’ve allowed more margin on the right-hand side.  I ordered some magnets and checked and rechecked the format but then suddenly wondered, “What if the printing machine cuts the cards just a little too close?  Oh, man!”  And I loved the final design with the laid-back green and some soft shades of blue and the Parisian font that I hadn't used before.  In my mind, I was already smiling to hand them to friends and use them as gift tags.  But now the order was already sent.  Trying to change it would be such a hassle.  So I prayed, “Lord, may you oversee the production of these magnets that they would print in whole.  May they have no letters cut off the edges.”  Then before quitting the computer, I checked my email.  What?  Four emails from Vistaprint?  The last one says, “Whilst in the process of reviewing your order placed on September 20, 2013, it was discovered that portions of the text on the Small Magnet had a likely chance of being cut off when the product is printed.  An adjustment was made to the Magnet and it was replaced to ensure that it would be printed perfectly.”  Well, how interesting is that!  How sweet that the Lord would handle my order.  A simple blessing to know He oversees all our happenings and that He's available for the big, the small, and the in-between.  James 1:17 reads, “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.”

It's Egg Day!

It's the simplest of things.  Eggs.  Who eats eggs for breakfast?  Probably the whole world does.  Having 2 fried eggs in the morning would be a huge highlight for my husband.  And for me to cook the eggs would be even more hugely a surprise!  As my sweet friend so casually talked about washing all the breakfast dishes at her house, my heart started to sink.  I asked, “How often do you cook breakfast?”  Answer:  “Every day.”  And I promptly paused.  And I paused still more.  All these years I’ve cooked breakfast such a small percentage of the time.  But now my weekday schedule is different.  Sometimes I have an out-of-town trip and leave in the morning by 4:30 or occasionally 6:00, but often I don’t have a strict timeframe anymore.  Raisin Bran, Mini-Wheats, and Lucky Charms no longer need to predominate our home menu.  And the motivation behind the change is what’s important.  It’s kindness.  In 2 Samuel 9, kindness is no small thing.  King David seeks to offer kindness to anyone in Saul's family.  Soon David meets Mephibosheth, who is Saul's grandson.  David explains he wants to restore land to Mephibosheth and offer him a lifelong invitation to eat at the family table.  David's kindness is abundant, and when considering the fact that Saul tried to kill David repeatedly, the depth of David’s kindness is all the more remarkable.  He demonstrates a kindness that's neither fluffy nor cute nor superficial.  It's kindness with real meat.  Real hearty chunks of character, all for the sake of Jonathan, who was Saul’s son and David’s covenant friend.  Here in the Old Testament, with all its many battles, we see kindness.  God's kindness.  And now in real life for me, I have nothing even close to anybody trying to kill me.  My gesture to cook 2 eggs for breakfast should be comparatively quite simple.  And I'm happy to say our kitchen now serves eggs at least once a week.  It's a slow change, yet the smile on my husband’s face beams across the room.  And I hereby testify to the Lord's ability to transform a very committed non-cook into someone now giddily happy to pull out the old skillet and fry up some eggs.  I gladly pronounce, “It’s Egg Day!”