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.

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.

Battleground: deer, water, bones

My bones hurt.  I'm on edge.  I leave the room because the noise of the TV stirs my stomach.  The other day I was close to crying just driving down the road.  I’ve wondered about arthritis and fibromyalgia, but even more so I’ve considered these aches to evidence the throes of spiritual battle.  Certainly the story of Job shows that faith can lead us to encounter physical pain.  Now in recent weeks I have called on the Lord to carry me through.  And then came last Sunday.  I simply walked into church and heard 3 particular words.  Deer.  Water.  Bones.  Each spoke uniquely to me.  Our pastor talked of his trip to Montana and his view of some deer walking up to the water.  That water, he said, was a fountain of life for these animals.  That water led to a whole experience of replenishment.  Much more than a short sip of anything wet, that water nourished the depth of the animal’s whole existence.  Yet when the pastor initially uttered deer and water in the same sentence, my brain froze because I first thought of a song.  I'd been rehearsing some music with a friend, and one set of our lyrics sings, “As the deer panteth for the water, so my soul longeth after Thee.”  Our road to rehearsing this music had encountered a very steep uphill climb.  It was a battle, it had been painful, pressure was tight, and so this Sunday in church my ears stood desperately attentive.  Next came the pastor saying, “The Lord can be health to our bones.”  And therein sat my third word.  God was using the pastor to speak into the aches of my body that felt more loudly pronounced every day.  All morning I kept hearing people speak words and ideas that I identified with.  River.  Thirst.  Running water that flows even where the land is parched.  With each new mention, I felt refreshed and immensely loved by the Lord that He would speak so specifically into my circumstances and let me know He knew what I was enduring and that He was with me.  This pain I withstood was of a different realm.  A different category.  People tell me I have a high tolerance for pain, yet my usual large doses of ibuprofen wouldn’t touch this.  The tension began to cleanse through my eyes, saturating one Kleenex after another to realize how each new conversation added into the blessing.  Jesus says in John 7:38, “Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.”  This was my real life and my real streams of tears flowing.  And by the time I heard my Spanish friend say the word alfarero, which only a couple days prior I had learned means “potter,” I could picture the Lord molding me at the potter’s wheel, moistening the clay along the way to stretch, reshape, and smooth out my edges.  And as my tears released, my fragility faded.  Though the pain would return later in the week, this Sunday the Lord had relieved and replenished to the depths of my soul.  Where I had struggled for words to explain to my husband, the Lord had reassured that He knew all the ins and outs of every inch of my pain.  Satan could fight all he wanted, but the Lord had given me rest and had held up the fight on my behalf.  To know Him in these moments was sufficient for me.  The Lord is enough.

Unblurred by Linus

Poor Charlie Brown.  He’s always in trouble with somebody.  People tell him he’s hopeless and dumb.  Lucy’s always calling him a blockhead.  The other kids chime in and laugh, and I feel for him.  At Christmastime, he’s on a mission to find a tree for the school play, and in frustration he throws his hands in the air and pleads, “Isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?”  Young Linus drags his blue blanket to center stage and gives answer by reciting from the book of Luke.  Having found new inspiration, Charlie determines that despite public complaint and despite widespread commercialism, his bare little tree with the falling-off needles can serve well for the play after all.  But his attempt to add even a single red ornament causes the tip of the tree to droop over and hit the ground.  And right there is where I love Charlie Brown.  He droops, and his tree droops, and I droop at times.  I love Charlie because we row the same boat.  Charlie and I walk the same road.  We both need Jesus, and we both have a lot to thank Him for.  I thank the Lord for giving us a clean lens when our vision blurs.  I thank Him for lifting us out of the holes we dig ourselves into.  I thank Him for adorning us with unique and undeserved ornaments that reflect the brightness of His light.  I thank Him for sending us people like Linus who encourage and remind and lend love all-around.  And I thank Him for loving us first.  And for the talents of Charles M. Schulz and the purity of his cartoon message that I’d forgotten until my husband reminded me this year, I thank the Lord as well.  Sounds like good reason to celebrate.  Maybe just for fun a full-fledged round of the Snoopy dance.

An earful of blessing

Listening can be good.  Listening, rather than always talking, that is.  It takes me out of the driver’s seat, presenting opportunity to see into the life of another, offering the reminder that little ol’ me isn’t really at the center of things.  This week I visited 2 friends in the hospital—one who awaits a liver transplant, and another who’s enduring kidney transplant complications.  They’ve both dealt with all kinds of hardships and excruciating pain, yet to hear them talk, it’s their love of the Lord at the forefront.  Seeing Him in their gentle, gracious ways inspires me and has caused me to sit and ponder a number of things.  Not too long ago, I was inspired through another friend as well.  I’d been praying for him to find a job, but somehow we had never talked about houses or apartments or anything.  I had no idea he lived at the Salvation Army shelter.  I’d never heard him complain about living arrangements, and indeed how I admired his mindset to press on and look forward.  In my neighborhood, I've found a wonderful joy in the form of a German shepherd down the street.  Hearing him bark and seeing him wag his tail to greet his master sets my heart afloat.  It takes a few seconds to slow down, listen, and watch this dog, but his utter joy is contagious.  James 1 says we should all be quick to listen and slow to speak.  Some say that’s why the Lord gave us 2 ears and only 1 mouth.  May we seek Him for how to listen today—with the neighbor who's lonely, perhaps with the aunt who so readily criticizes or the guy in the office with the insanely crazy clothes, yet certainly still affording ourselves time to listen for the voice of the Lord himself.  Whether two minutes or twenty or more, blessing lies within.

Food, clothes, & a fight

By 7:30 AM, we’d missed it.  We only heard about it.  The fight had been at 6:30 in the parking lot, beginning with an argument over who would be first in line this Saturday.  Our chaplain in charge had the distinct pleasure of addressing the fracas.  Driving up to find police on the premises leads some people to turn around from church and go home, yet really we’re trying to lay out a welcome mat.  Regardless of how the squabble began, the Lord did bring good from it.  “…many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first.”  One of our volunteers wisely shared these words from Matthew 19:30.  With our whole group, he traced back the years, recounting that the Lord had always provided for this ministry, and on no occasion had the church ever run out of food or clothes.  No one needed to push his way to the front, and in fact a wonderful gesture would have been for someone to voluntarily exchange his front spot for a place further back in line.  On that note, heads nodded in agreement.  People took turns telling of the Lord’s blessings, praising Him especially for many accounts of healing.  Some took extra time to pray, even praying without concern for losing their turn in the receiving line.  When word of the fight had initially spread amongst our guests, gasps of appallment floated in the air, yet the scenario held a lesson in humility for us all.  Reconsider those other times we want to be first.  We disregard the express checkout sign that designates 10 items or less, just so we can finish quicker.  We drink the last of the orange juice when honestly we knew someone else wanted it.  We edge out a parking slot to the dismay of another driver.  We think again.

Not nice & neat

Christianity is not nice and neat.  It’s about people’s lives changing and people realizing their need for Jesus.  Often we have to become pained and uncomfortable in order to see our need.  Take the disruptive child who’s starved for attention and makes his occasions unbearable for everyone.  All you want to do is have your kid nice and neat in church choir, and here’s this thorny scenario causing you to dread one rehearsal to the next. Then take the guy who monopolizes the adult study group, and you catch yourself hoping he’s absent next Sunday.  And you’d been so happy to finally be part of Bible study, until he showed up.  What about the time I’d been reading about generosity in 2 Corinthians 8, and the Lord put beside me on the bus a lady whose wonderful generosity challenged me?  Those words in Corinthians weren’t meant to stay nice and neat on the page.  They’re for real life, and the lady with the salsa was the Lord’s way of opening my eyes and stretching me into action.  Following the Lord certainly keeps us from stirring ourselves some additional problems, but sometimes He Himself has reason to stretch us beyond our comfort.  One time my husband and I taught a kindergarten class with a rambunctious little boy who we thought never listened, yet later his mom told us how carefully he recited at home the details of our Sunday class, well within earshot of a dad who didn’t attend church.  Suddenly we're so happy for the family's sake, and our classroom frustration didn't seem to matter.  Another time I remember listening to KLOVE radio and contemplating a financial donation, asking the Lord to prompt the same idea out of my husband’s mouth if we were supposed to give.  Shortly thereafter we’re in the car when the radio station again mentions their pledge campaign, and my husband says, “Maybe we should donate to KLOVE.”  Sometimes I hold onto money too tightly, but this time I saw the Lord leading, so we found joy in pulling out the checkbook and putting the envelope in the mail.  When the Lord stretches us, it’s the perfect exercise.  Maybe not our idea of nice and neat, maybe causing us to go cross-eyed in pain, maybe for reason we can't see right then, but still perfect.

Restless in the car

No talking. Waking up at 6:00 on a Saturday morning was not what I wanted to do. But finally I interrupted our quiet in the car to acknowledge my bad attitude and to say I was asking the Lord to change me. My selfishness didn’t feel good. In fact, it made me quite restless. Our drive to church was for an occasion I usually love, and shortly after my prayer, the Lord did return the joy. It was opportunity to worship with the community and offer food and clothes, and He poured blessing into those nooks and crannies where I’d allowed selfishness to reside. I had wondered what stories to share with the congregation that morning, and as we sang “Seek Ye First,” the Lord reminded me of one of His real-life lessons on priority. I had stared at a high pile of school papers to grade, yet when I surrendered my red pen in order to spend time with Him first, He seemed to speed up the grading later on. It was a perfect story to share with the song lyrics. The next blessing came in the form of a Korean lady speaking English. She courageously spoke in her new language to share her love of the Lord, and in the process she encouraged my use of Spanish. Soon I found myself inviting to church a jewelry store owner and a Supercuts stylist, and I stood amazed all over again at how the Lord seemed to let the Spanish words roll from my tongue. Then still another blessing came when the Lord showed me what to write next in my blog. I routinely ask Him what to write for you as readers, and on this occasion I’d felt devoid of ideas. Yet He reminded me about last week’s concert, which became Monday’s blog entry. With each blessing, the Lord layered for me a new humility. Selfishness had invited me to pout, and I had accepted the offer, yet the Lord ultimately won. And driving home we became a noisy car rattling to tell about the Lord.

The paper mountain

Certain words are just funny.  Like when I say, “I cleaned house.”  I chuckle en route to my lips even beginning to form the words.  Really our family isn’t sloppy, and other than cat fur accumulating, we pick up as we go.  Yet when a rare cleaning mood hits, especially one that has potential to tackle the mountain of papers in the kitchen, we better let it play out.  Don’t squelch an all-nighter.  A few weeks ago, I finally tackled the mountain.  It was an ominous, above-ground black hole that threatened to swallow anyone attempting to sort its contents.  Yet now was the time to topple this pile whose balance had been carefully guarded for years.  And what I had dreaded all this time did prove to bless my soul.  I was pleasured to reread articles and realize my attraction to them in the first place was not in vain.  What was an inkling years ago, such as one list of Bible study ideas, had now come to fruition with great blessing.  I’d kept a bookstore clipping years ahead of the time it would be useful.  Because I found it now and my book is now published, making a phone call to the store about my book now fit.  I found photos of my husband playing guitar when we served with a homeless ministry under a downtown bridge.  How sweet to recall that cold December morning, all bundled for warmth and singing freely on the streets.  A blessing for the Lord to show me that photo from deep within the paper mountain I had seen as treacherous.  God can bring life to what we bemoan and consider mundane.  His unexpected blessings I love. 

Kindness at 100 degrees

Two events, six people, and a salute.  I drove to my doctor’s office across town and walked inside to pick up some medicine.  I returned to the car, only to find it dead.  Battery didn’t work—no juice, nothing, nada, zilch.  The key was in the ignition, but the engine wouldn’t turn over.  Eeesh.  On the more trivial side, my hope for this less-than-30-minute trip being my first time for free parking was now looking shattered.  I walked down the aisle to the parking attendant to explain.  She offered that her Security Department could jump my car battery.  With a big sigh of relief, I welcomed her offer.  One worker from Security walked toward me, and the second arrived with a vehicle.  The first man kept me company, and the second brought the hardware.  Two very kind men for whom I was extremely thankful.  I now envisioned myself soon lavishing in the luxury of air conditioning and stepping out of the swimming pool of sweat that comes with 100^o heat.  Thirty minutes and I should be home, except for the fact that the car died again a few miles down the road.  This time, I was in the left turn lane at a very busy intersection approaching the highway.  I stepped out of the car to hand-motion the car behind me to go around.  The driver quickly approached to offer to push my car into the Exxon on the opposite side of the street.  Then came another man to help push.  Then a lady stepped into the street to stop traffic in order for the two men to push the car across.  That’s the abbreviated version of the story, as we endured buckets of sweat while having trouble shifting the car into neutral, and I made numerous phone calls and waited a good while for the tow truck.  What shined very brightly in this story was the kindness of people, starting with the parking lot attendant.  I was humbled.  I could not say for certain that I would have offered to push someone’s stalled car across the street.  I was so immensely thankful for their help that I sat dumbfounded each time the scenes replayed in my head.  And I didn’t even have the opportunity to thank everyone, as I assume the second man who pushed the car and the lady who directed traffic must have left while I situated the car at the Exxon.  There’s something about kindness and how it speaks without expectation of repayment and sometimes in anonymity.  Colossians 3:12 tells us to clothe ourselves with kindness.  All this, and still there was a bigger picture.  I did reach the doctor’s office for my medicine.  I even received free parking.  God surrounded me with kind people and caused me to rethink my own ways.  And still while sitting in the tow truck, I realized the Lord opened a door to talk with the driver about Jesus.  And with a man at our car repair shop, another conversation opened to retell of God’s provision.  I hereby salute the kindness of people and ultimately this call upon God’s people to be kind.

A juror's outlook

I’ve served on 2 juries.  One case of fraud was intricately technical on the insurance side.  It lasted a week, and I was mentally exhausted.  I entered that courtroom with the idea of proudly serving my part as a juror.  I was even happy to receive my summons because I’d heard so many complaints about jury verdicts.  How can we complain about verdicts if we ourselves squirm to avoid serving?  Naïve, you say?  Perhaps.  But I honestly endeavored toward a positive attitude regarding jury duty.  Yet the Lord has shown me repeatedly that labels don’t tell whole stories. A jury summons may actually call us to more than one role.  That big room of jury candidates may contain someone whom the Lord deems perfect for us.  A perfect connection simply because the Lord designed it.  On one occasion, I shared a lunch table with a fellow jury candidate, and conversation ensued about the Lord.  It was a time to discuss and encourage, and God revealed again His wonderful orchestration of people.  Jury duty gone wildly exhilarating. 

Pure Jesus

A photo of a Santa hat.  A list of suggested amounts of cash.  “Holiday tip guide,” the headline read.  Then the TV lady said Christmas was about decorating.  And then there was the song playing overhead about sleigh bells and snow.  And still there is the steady stream of news reports concerning families’ crippling financial debt due to excessive purchases.  Ugh.  Sometimes I enjoy regular days more than holidays.  At Christmastime, the misguided aspects of our world seem to magnify, and I need to step away from it all.  So when intercoms sing about Jack Frost and chestnuts roasting, and when retail customers cram doorways and trample each other, and when choir programs highlight cute, little, red-nosed Rudolph instead of Jesus’ birth, I seek the Lord to impart His purity.  Matthew 1-2.  Luke 2.  They take me to Jesus.  It is for all our misguided notions that He came to this earth.

A complaint

Ugh.  I would have to take the long bus.  I could hear my fellow bus passengers calling their offices to say they’d be late.  Traffic was jammed on the highway.  Ordinarily, I can take 3 buses that connect so smoothly that I have less than 10 minutes total to wait between them.  Now I would have to take the long route.  My heart sank.  But then it lifted back up.  I began to ask the Lord how to use the extra time.  Before I finished praying, a new thought flashed through my head.  It was Tuesday, and I was pretty sure a particular security guard would be working.  And as events unfolded, yes, he was working, and we enjoyed a wonderful conversation.  I considered it inspired by God.  On this day, two things stood out.  I was humbled to realize what a blessing the Lord gave, even when I initially complained in my heart about the traffic jam.  And I remembered the Bible having a story where God answered a prayer even before it was finished.  In Genesis 24, Abraham sought a wife for his son and sent his servant to carry out the mission.  The servant asked God for success in his task, and before he finished praying, Rebekah appeared.  She became Isaac’s wife.  The Lord answered the servant’s prayer.  And today, He so graciously provided for me, even before my prayer was fully spoken.  Blessed again.