Lone sheep

In Luke 15, Jesus tells a parable.  He poses the scenario of a shepherd and his flock of 100.  The shepherd loses 1 sheep, and Jesus asks the crowd to consider how they as shepherds would respond.  Will the shepherd remain in the field with the 99, or go search for the 1?  As readers today, we think this through, and in my course of personal decision-making, I realize my heart rushing to the lost sheep.  My head conjures an image of an animal panicked and prone to self-harm.  So readily do I identify with this sheep that I know my answer to Christ’s question has to be to leave the 99.  I know firsthand this sheep’s mental anguish.  Imagining it drifting toward danger and baa-ing to plead its desperation, I sympathize with its emotional exhaustion, for clearly I have wandered my own treacherous field.  It’s really the both of us needing a shepherd.  And Jesus proceeds to describe a shepherd who searches to the point of finding his sheep and lovingly putting it on his shoulders to carry home.  So now my perspective shifts from the sheep to the shepherd, and I'm humbled by a flood of introspective questions.  How well do I care for the sheep that the Lord entrusts to me?  Do I comfort those who appear nervous?  Do I take time to search out those missing?  Am I willing to sacrifice myself for their sake?  These opening verses inspire many lessons, and ultimately our Shepherd calls us to seek Him, to pray, to follow.  I’m so thankful to be in Christ's flock. 

Girls Like Us

How do you respond when something peculiar happens?  Do you slough it off and say “Oh, well”?  Do you just move on?  Or do you smirk and get mad and beleaguer the circumstances because they just don’t make sense?  In my case, I kind of shook my head and wondered.  I never imagined 4 years ago how the Lord would use a book I read.  My friend handed me Girls Like Us: Fighting for a World Where Girls Are Not for Sale.  I read it and took notes, pondering later, “Why did I do that?  I set out to read, not write.  Why did I spend extra time taking notes as if I were going to teach this book?”  I couldn’t remember consciously making the decision, yet it happened, and then over years I forgot about it.  Fast forward to 2017, and I’m praying for the Lord to guide the selection of a new teaching resource for a class.  So far no book titles seem to fit.  None seems to bring peace to my heart, until I sort through my teaching bag another time and find Girls Like Us.  And there my old notes call out, “Yes, teach!”  Of course, the Lord in His omniscience knew 4 years ago that I’d be working today with precious women who have endured abuse.  He in His infinite wisdom had prepared me while I was unaware.  Jeremiah 29:11 says, “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”  And yet as I've seen Him provide for my future repeatedly, I'm amazed each time.  We pray to be in His will and follow Him for the day, yet a day can affect unto years.

Cyrillic sheep pen

“Lord, how should I teach this?  What visual tool could I bring?”  That’s how I started praying.  Later discerning to bring wooden blocks to illustrate the lesson, I had 2 options.  First, my Russian alphabet blocks.  Second, our Jenga blocks.  The next morning while packing my teaching bag, I prayed again and opted to toss in the Russian ones that have Cyrillic letters and words imprinted.  Our study topic was John 10, and we would build a sheep pen with these blocks, highlighting Christ as the Good Shepherd who lays down His life to save us, the sheep.  Indeed it was an inspiring treasure of a lesson the Lord gave.  Even afterward He continued to bless as my co-leader helped repack my bag to go home.  She inquired about my Russian blocks, saying, “My boyfriend has learned some Russian.”  And right there, my whole body halted because almost never have I heard that comment in San Antonio, which by far speaks mostly Spanish and English.  The distinctly single occasion when I heard that comment was in our little church coffee shop several months prior.  And then as I realized my co-leader is close in age to the person in the coffee shop who spoke those same words, a warmth of wonder began to wash over me.  In slow motion I turned to ask my co-leader the name of her boyfriend.  And oh, wow!  Yes, her boyfriend is our church drummer!  How crazy fun is that!  All the way home, and actually for days, I floated on that fun.  Had I not brought the Russian blocks, we wouldn’t have discovered this tremendous tidbit because there’s nothing about Jenga blocks to draw the same discussion.  Humbling all the more is the fact that I still don’t have it all figured out as to where this study of Russian is going for me, though blessings like this certainly add excitement to the task.  As children of God, we pray and trust and proceed, sometimes without knowing exact outcomes and reasons.  In this case, the Lord’s answer for a teaching tool brought joy far wider than I could’ve imagined.

Prayer for a song

One Friday, my friend prayed, “Lord, if it would please You, would you have Linda bring ‘Give Me Jesus’ tomorrow?”  My precious friend simply asked for a song.  The next morning, about 50 of us gathered from different parts of the city, both near and far.  Food had been purchased and carefully apportioned into brown paper bags, just eager to supply for anyone’s need.  Clothes had been donated, now hung on the racks and placed neatly on the shelves.  Among givers and recipients, we awaited the Holy Spirit to unite us.  Guests signed in.  Smiles were offered, with prayers ascending all the while.  My husband lifted his guitar from the case and strummed his first chord.  I can’t say my voice sang too well because I’ve been dealing with a throat problem, but my heart surely sang.  As we came upon "Give Me Jesus," I felt my heart leap.  To look into my friend’s eyes, having learned that she’d prayed for us to bring it, my heart and my whole body felt wonderfully full.  Remembering how my husband and I sat on the couch the night before and selected songs, completely unaware of our friend's prayer at the time, I realized the Lord was uniting giver and recipient then too.  Such thrill and such humility washes over.  His gifts are simple, yet immense.  And my blessing in all this was even somewhat tangential to my friend’s initial prayer.  James 1:17 says, “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.”  Thank you, Lord.

Intravenous puppetry

My, oh my, how Christ loves children!  I’d been praying about our next puppet trip to the hospital, and the idea recurred to make a cardboard theater.  I found a scrap piece of cardboard, sprayed it with some old white paint, and tried cutting out a puppet window and gluing down some leftover red ribbon as trim.  A gray remnant of fabric and a piece of doweling lying waste in the garage provided for the theater's curtain.  Days passed, I continued praying, and one Saturday at dinner, some friends showed me photos of some very inventive spoon puppets.  Now I’m all keen on getting home to see if I still have that old wooden spoon I never use!  My new puppet partner made us some medical puppets with popsicle-stick handles, plus we still had the bigger puppets I sewed last year, and for music we now had an extra flute that another friend gave me.  Also we have a Little Red Riding Hood doll trio on loan from a friend from church.  So this trip to the hospital was looking a bit different than previous.  Many people we loved meeting in the hospital hallways, and some for only short periods in the playroom, yet there was one little girl who stayed with us the whole time.  It’s with her that I saw the Lord illustrating His love in detail.  Only He could know the pleasures of this little girl's heart and prepare us accordingly.  At first, she sat quiet and watched puppets appear one by one.  She grinned when we sang and eventually giggled and asked to strum the ukulele and hold our extra flute.  Then this tiny voice piped up to announce she wanted to be puppeteer, so we made room for her IV to roll alongside her behind the theater, and lo and behold, she donned a smile signaling new command of the playroom!  Puppets found new voice and new dance, and as she designed her own paper bag puppet, I marveled at the extent to which the Lord provided for this little girl.  She remembered most all of our puppets’ names and took special fancy to our new spoons Paul and Cindy.  And from our collection of medical puppets, she had a fondness for the puppet with his own IV, which perfectly matched her own.  In Mark 10:14, Jesus says, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”  And so I thank the Lord for His capacities to see far and wide and to love to great extents.  This day we invited our guests to each draw a picture on our cardboard theater, and they sent us home with a souvenir we treasure.  Thank you, Lord, for answering our prayer to prepare the way. 

Drenched & detoured

Have you ever experienced something just too unusual to be human?  Maybe some sort of remarkable timing that made you pinch yourself to see if it's real?  One Saturday in December, we awoke to that very thing.  The alarm buzzed at 6:30, and we grabbed the guitar, our music, and a couple of granola bars to hop in the car.  Without news of the extent of the night’s rainfall, we knew nothing about road closures.  From the highway, we saw lower roads with cars stranded.  We ran into flashing lights and road blocks, and when we hit a major detour, I highly suspected we’d be late for music.  Possibly too, we might be absent entirely.  And my heart sank to imagine the precious faces of people we'd miss:  friends and guests who give and receive food, clothes, and the love of the Lord.  But along this detour, I started remembering driving this way once to a funeral.  I recalled no low sections of road that would flood, so my mind sighed in relief, though we soon encountered a train, but there the Lord reminded us of another alternate route we’d taken to a different funeral.  Now I'm smiling huge to realize we weren't going to be late for music after all!  Quite amazing, really.  Considering our trek was across the city, from far north to north central to east side, we were amazed at how the Lord directed traffic in our favor.  And as my heart bubbled in glee, I kept realizing more.  While praying 2 days before, I felt inclined to prepare Rita Springer’s song “I Have to Believe.”  I charted the chords and loaded the piano Friday night, and now it’s crossing my mind that if indeed the Lord imparted that song for today, then actually no amount of torrential rain could've ever thwarted the singing of it, meaning that the night's rain was never really a deterrent but maybe just twisted into temptation for us to lose focus.  Still too, there was the added blessing of remembering I didn’t even have this piano till 2 years ago when a friend said the Lord inclined her to give it to me from her grandson.  How sweet is that!  I felt wonderfully saturated in blessing, just immensely loved in the details.  I stood in awe of how the Lord set our sequence of events in motion, drawing from our travel on these detoured roads in years past, yet purposing for a song today.  Even toward the importance of attending funerals, I felt a nudge of encouragement.  Second Corinthians 3:5 tells us, “Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God.”  And so may you too experience the joy of seeing the Lord at work around you.  So precise is His orchestration.  You’re in my prayers.

Feverish feline

How does anything so sweet and cuddly have such capacity to draw ire?  A couple of weeks ago, I wondered.  We had one feverish feline, namely Sawyer, who had endless energy he didn't know how to use.  First he darted, then he climbed, then he sped down the hallway in chase of his sister.  Seeking bookshelves, chairs, tables, cabinets—almost anything fit in his path.  And while this athletic cat slowed occasionally for me to pet him, he quickly fell back into race car mode, hovering fast and low to the carpet.  And none of that was a problem really.  In fact, watching him plot to ambush Sally from around the couch made me laugh.  But the frustration began when his eyes changed.  His whole body tensed up.  Anxiety shifted back and forth in his eyes, and he reached up the arm of the couch to plunge in his front claws, but as he clutched the tweed, I stepped in, and he twisted up, over, and away.  From bedroom to living room to hallway and back, his wheels kept spinning, and whenever I glanced away the slightest bit, his claws took new aim.  Finally in defense of our furniture I was angry and scooped him up to put him in the garage.  But I felt sad for doing it.  Soon I thought differently, and I picked him up to pray.  Not only did he frustrate me, but he was uneasy inside himself.  “Lord, may Your peace wash over this cat.  I ask You to calm him from the inside.”  And what ensued was quite amazing.  Sawyer actually rested in my arms.  His body relaxed.  His eyes quit bouncing side to side.  I set him on a favorite blanket atop the couch, and he stayed still.  I kept staring at him, though unsure why exactly, except to realize my own near-disbelief at seeing the stark change in his countenance.  First Thessalonians 5:16-18 tells us, “Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”  And so this day, my praying over Sawyer was part of my praying continually.  How I love the Lord for being present in the details of the day.  Any problem is never ours alone.  May you be blessed to invite Him into your circumstances.

Learn Russian? - Part 2

Learn Russian?  That was my question in this blog last April.  I had a desire to learn the language but didn’t know why.  So I kept asking the Lord.  Local library books weren’t plentiful.  YouTube helped with pieces.  I tried where I knew, but progress was slow.  One day searching for anything Russian in San Antonio, I learned about Sasha’s European Market and stopped by to ask if anyone gave language lessons.  My best bet, as I was told, was to enroll for 8 lessons with NEISD’s Community Education program.  This past fall they offered the course, and I loved it.  Yet approaching the last class, I still pondered my purpose.  Then soon I learned about a Russian nurse at my hospital.  Cartwheels started turning in my heart, just beaming with blessing, just imagining and hoping to really use what I'd learned.  Finally I met her, and she said, “ЗДРАВСТВУЙТЕ,” which sounds like [zdravstvyuti].  I was speechless, in a good way.  My learning on paper suddenly became real life, and though my brain understood, my tongue suffered initial paralysis.  Then recovering, another thought came.  I should inquire of my friend in Israel who introduced us to the Russian Holocaust Survivors.  Would she have any use for my beginning Russian?  And oh, did she!  She posed the idea of making greeting cards for the Survivors, and again the cartwheels came. Yes!  I can do this!  How will I find a font for the Cyrillic alphabet to make these cards?  I didn’t know, but the idea sure seemed workable.  Just this week I prayed through that task, making good strides with my husband’s help, realizing it's the Lord ultimately connecting all the dots.  Philippians 4:6-7 says, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”  A new realm of amazement.  To watch Him work refreshes the day like nothing else.

Gift of scarves

To buy a friend some scarves.  It’s such a simple thing.  Yet such immense pleasure came in the shopping.  One light blue, one black, one reddish brown, each scarf in a fun print that would look so sweet on her.  YouTube has lots of good ideas, whether wearing for beauty or for warmth.  Even hours of deliberating over fabric brought such joy, just hoping to remind my friend that she’s loved and that she's not alone.  Cancer is a big word.  It’s a heavy word.  When my friend hurts, so do I.  When she loses her hair, I want to take away her pain.  I ask the Lord to heal her and lift her from sadness and show me a way to help.  When talking about the body of Believers, 1 Corinthians 12:26 says, “If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.”  So I continue to pray for the Lord's presence upon my friend.  His power surpasses all.  His love transcends.

Precious trip to the bank

Just a quick stop at the bank.  I entered the building, signed in, started assembling a cup of coffee, and heard my name called.  The man ushered me into his office and took care of my question, then asked, "May I update your account profile?"  I obliged, and he continued, "You work in theatre?"  "Yes," I said.  He paused from his keyboard to look up, "That's cool."  Smiling, he scrolled down my profile to verify address and phone, then returned to the theatre idea, "How did you get into theatre?"  He pursued, "How did you audition?"  Still again, "If you audition for one part, but it doesn't fit, do they give you another part?"  He dispatched a whole series of inquiries, and I realized the Lord was orchestrating this remarkable opportunity for dialogue that ultimately begged only one answer:  Jesus.  Five years ago, as the theatre idea first pressed within me, I prayed, "Lord, what is this?  What do I do?  Where are You asking me to go?"  I soon found myself transported into the world of theatre and a whole new set of blessings.  Today's trip to the bank was opportunity to encourage this man in his own personal walk with the Lord, whether involving theatre or anything else.  Such delight in letting him know that the Lord has a joyful plan for his life.  So precious to acquaint people with the name of Christ and invite them to experience the Lord's love first-hand.  We're told in 1 Peter 3:15, ". . . Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have . . ."  Are we ready?