Theatre's detour off I-35

What enters your brain when you see a guy wearing a fluorescent vest and holding a sign to stop traffic?  “Oh, man!”  And then, “What’s the holdup?" and "How long do we have to stay here?”  My sentiments exactly.  My theatre group recently took one of the smaller roads off I-35 here in Texas and came upon a car halted behind a worker with one of those fluorescent vests and one of those same traffic signs.  So we halted too.  Meanwhile several sirens sounded, and an ambulance and other emergency vehicles followed in quick pursuit.  Then as things seemed idle for a while, my director asked me to walk up to ask the worker what’s happening, and he informed that one of his fellow construction workers had been hit but that our line of traffic should be released in a minute, so I walked back to our vehicle and let everyone know.  And while sitting in the passenger seat, I was humbled.  How uncaring I had been!  Here someone this man knows and works with was hit by a car, and all I cared about was the length of our wait?  Then I saw the worker walking toward us to explain they’re closing the road after all, so we needed to turn around.  This time, I’m thankful to say, my words were different.  He delivered the news, and I replied, “Sir, I’m sorry about your co-worker.  We prayed for him while waiting in our car.”  I kept thinking how gracious the Lord was to give me a second opportunity.  And indeed my prayer in the car was sincere.  John 15:12 says, "My command is this:  Love each other as I have loved you."  May I remember, and may we remember, how the Lord loves people more than time schedules.  May we love as He does.

Hospital's oboe voice

What a sweet surprise.  Never before had I played oboe for my fellow volunteers.  Even receiving the invitation to play, I could feel my heart flutter because it’d been years since playing at a hospital.  Learning how our volunteer coordinator likes to display different talents from within the group, it seemed oboe had not been part of any previous luncheon.  Would it be too loud?  Too soft?  Too piercing a sound?  I endeavored to arrive a little early and set up, and when the clock hit 11:30, I moved toward my music chair.  “Over the Rainbow” was fun.  “Amazing Grace” warmed my heart.  “My Favorite Things” and “Simple Gifts” seemed to draw favorable reaction.  And then came the one song I anticipated special delight in playing.  In honor of my friend who cuddles the babies in NICU, I played “Jesus Loves the Little Children,” as it’s her favorite set of lyrics to sing over our little ones, and she happily tells how they respond with a smile.  The whole occasion that day brought such joy for me.  To thank our many volunteers for their hours and weeks and years of service, having asked the Lord to sing freely through my oboe and to let nothing hinder His voice, it was a privilege to take part.  Zephaniah 3:17 says, “The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save.  He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.”  As a child can find rest in the sound of her parent's song, I love the idea of my Father singing and the thought of extending that restfulness to others.  When a lady smiled to say she heard the oboe all the way down the hall, I hadn’t known the sound would reach that far, but I trust it was the Lord making His way to her ears. 

Spanish table for 8

I felt deeply out of sync.  “Lord, I need Spanish.  Give me Spanish, I pray.”  Our friend asked me a question, and my brain conjured almost nothing for an answer.  As often happens, my Spanish starts but runs out, leaving me to finish in English and hope somehow the ideas connect.  To listen at first is always good.  To hear conversation of others helps me acclimate.  Yet as we ate dinner, the desire to speak gradually grew, and my words sat on edge.  Briefly I wondered, would it be entirely frustrating to tell this story and not have the words to finish the best part?  Our table of 8 discussed Puerto Rico and a grave problem there, and suddenly my attempt at Spanish spilled out.  “En Estados Unidos tenemos una gran problema.”  I mentioned America’s situation of abortion.  We have these buildings appearing innocuous on the outside, their doors and windows looking harmless from the street.  Yet horror abounds for what happens inside.  I shared testimony of the Lord bringing beauty to so gruesome a setting.  I remember an ice cream vendor who seemed to stop and pray repeatedly in front of the abortion center.  There was the man who walked from down the street to point his wooden recorder toward the sky to play a melody to the Lord, to praise Him for loving us beyond our self-destructive ways.  Little did I know that while I spoke, the Lord was touching our friends who listenened.  Soon I heard one of the men say he would like us to pray.  Before we left our friends’ house that night, we stood to ask the Lord to save these babies, to save the families from years of pain and regret, to extend His mercy to the abortion workers and let them experience His love, that He would conquer any fear and reassure them all that He himself is life and He sustains life.  The next day with church we sang “All my delight is in you, Lord,” immediately reverting me to our days of singing the same in Spanish, translating “Mi deleite está en ti.”  The word deleite has always grabbed my attention, and my heart started to melt.  My knees hit the floor under the weight of His love.  The Lord had led me through a most intimate experience, a deeply moving set of moments where I saw Him supply for my need, really abundantly beyond my need, once again.  He sat at our table, and I welcomed Him.

A little horseradish, please

Exciting.  Mundane.  The 2 words aren’t often in the same sentence.  But on a particular day in March, they were.  My friend shopped for horseradish at her nearby grocery store.  She put her items on the conveyor belt and prepared to pay the cashier, but not everybody buys 3 bottles of horseradish, so the cashier inquired, “What’s happening with all the horseradish?”  And there in that one little question sat a whole conversation.  My friend explained about celebrating Passover and how the strong taste of horseradish serves as bitter herb, or maror in Hebrew, signifying the bitterness of slavery.  A solid dose of horseradish brings a tear to the eye and offers in the ceremony a reminder of the bitterness of slavery of the Israelites unto Egypt.  As Christians who celebrate Passover, we recognize the bitterness of our slavery to sin.  First Corinthians 5:7 says, “…For Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed.”  We celebrate the forgiveness offered us through Jesus’ sacrifice and the sweetness of our redemption through Him.  What a thrilling opportunity for my friend.  What pure delight to see the cashier listen so attentively.  And how hopeful I was for her to attend our Passover.  It was a routine shopping trip illustrating the Lord’s love of people that He would inspire a question over some simple bottles of horseradish.  A testament of His power to reach so personally into our world to make certain we all hear of His love.  For you, for me, for my friend, for the cashier and all—please know that Jesus saves those who confess He is Lord and who believe in their heart that God raised Him from the dead (Romans 10:9).  May you experience the joy of knowing Him as Savior.

Personal delivery for Holocaust survivors

Why would a customer walk into a sewing store and give away her personal possession?  More specifically, why would a lady bring her sewing machine from home and ask the store employee to give it away to a beginner sewing student?  The whole scene is unusual.  As quilting started for me on such unlikely terms, and as it’s grown to yield some surprisingly pleasing fabric designs, and as it’s brought some sweet new friendships that I treasure, it seems also to be leading toward a trip to Israel.  And to personally deliver quilts as hand-crafted heirlooms for Holocaust survivors there, what a huge blessing and honor.  The idea for the trip entered my brain and recurred enough times that my husband and I filled out applications to work with my friend’s ministry, only to have her tell me over the phone that they’d been praying for musicians to come.  Interestingly the music question on the application was only a small portion of page 2 of a total 5 pages, and it provided only a single blank for answering.  We listed guitar, oboe, voice, and some other possibilities, having no inkling of how the ministry office had been praying.  And actually my husband wasn’t relishing the notion of traipsing through airports with a big, bulky guitar, so I asked my friend if he should bring his guitar.  She replied that someone recently donated a guitar to their ministry, and my husband could be first in line to play.  How sweet of the Lord to keep making the trip more attractive!  Now it’s not just a story of quilting but also music.  That part about their prayer keeps replaying in my head, and the jaw of my heart figuratively drops each time I recount it.  Numbers 22 tells of God speaking through the unlikely mouth of a donkey.  First Kings 17 explains how God sent ravens to deliver bread and meat to Elijah.  Today the Lord prepares a girl who knows little about sewing to become a quilter for the sake of Holocaust survivors in Israel, taking with her a husband whom the Lord inspired as well and some music He's been growing in both of them for years, also connecting her with some sweet sewing friends to lend aid, and supplying her with a sewing machine from someone she never met.  We’re thrilled already, and we haven’t yet set foot on the plane!  May He prepare us all with insight to recognize His sometimes unusual, unique circumstances.  May we not miss any ounce of the joy He offers.  What a magnificent God we serve.  What a magnificent God serves us.

Risen phone on the third day

My husband asked, “Are you sad?  Are you mad?”  I didn’t know how to answer.  A cloud of silence hovered in the car after our bewildering rehearsal.  Things had flip-flopped from the week before.  Play this; sing that.  New people; old people.  Yes; no.  What was happening?  And to think back and remember my giddiness in anticipating the fun we would have!  But here’s the good part.  As I pondered, as I tried to talk things through with my husband, as I prayed for the Lord to take away the anxiety, here comes a curious phone call.  Now 3 days after the tumultuous occasion, one very sweet voice offers some very encouraging words, and suddenly my anxiety starts to melt.  Remnants of fret that had tucked into the tiniest of corners began to dissolve.  Because of the way the conversation eased my whole body, I knew God orchestrated that phone call.  He was comforting me.  He had seen me hurting.  What kindness, and how intimately personal He is.  We had opted to quietly observe and not raise a ruckus at the rehearsal, and in His gentle way, He let us know He too saw every anxious moment.  Days later, the final event was fabulous.  All the sweeter, in fact, for having experienced the inner turmoil and then His love delivering through that phone.  Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still, and know that I am God . . .”  Yes, indeed He’s my God then, now, and always.

Inspired at Smashburger

Quilting is about quilts, right?  Right.  Yet with God, there’s always more.  For 8 months now, I’ve loved the friends, the Bible study, and the prayer.  The Heirloom Project sparked my interest in the sewing, but the nuts and bolts of threading the machine still make me cringe.  Crooked seams make me sigh because that means ripping and re-sewing.  The thought of calculating and cutting new sizes and shapes of fabric makes my brain hurt till this day.  One afternoon last fall our group took a lunch break and found a table at Smashburger.  Lo and behold, we meet someone new.  One of our ladies offers the invitation, and our new friend scoots down the bench to join us.  She tells about 2 quilts she’s sewing herself, and then as if my heart had a huge dose of warmth infused into it, I realized the Lord connecting our dots with intricate detail.  We learn about her son and her jewelry work and the fact of her cancer, and how thankful was our group for the Lord introducing us all.  How tenderly we sensed His touch.  Last month she and I and her mom enjoyed a return trip to our same Smashburger, and suddenly my cringes and sighs at the sewing machine didn’t matter anymore.  The Lord loves people, and He creates endless circumstances to encourage and inspire them.  I’m hoping to help my new friend in the future when she needs a ride to one of her cancer treatments, and our group is blessed to continue to pray on her behalf.  The last verses of Psalm 23 say, “You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.  Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”  On this day I experienced that overflowing cup.  What a wonderful contentment to witness the Lord loving His children.

Small Town, TX

Does your job send you traveling?  Mine does.  Our children’s theatre group visits lots of parts of Texas, including some smaller towns, and I love it.  Last month we went to Tyler.  Weather reports alerted us to ice and snow, yet the Lord cleared us a path, and actually the drive was all the more scenic with that fresh glisten of ice melting on the trees.  The school was fun where we performed, and an extra treat was visiting with my son-in-law’s mom.  She lives near there, and she kindly picked me up from the hotel for a very fun time of talking and laughing and enjoying a tour.  Sometimes we want the big city, the big business, the big neon name, but here my heart was fully content.  Really the blessing was extra sweet when recognizing the smaller scale of Tyler and the unlikelihood of most jobs traveling there.  Psalm 23:1 says, “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not be in want.”  That's saying that Christ is our perfect Shepherd.  When we follow Him, He blesses us that we don’t long for more.  When we seek and listen, when we answer His call, we find our hearts perfectly content.  We don’t ache for what we don’t have.  Technology, clothing, status, you name it, all those things we tend to envy of others.  The joy of experiencing the Lord surpasses them all.  The fullness of knowing Him supplants by far.  I testify to having wasted energy in wanting things in the past, and I don't miss that hassle.  So we ask the Lord to remove the distractions.  May we trust Him to satisfy.  I have prayed for you today to know the joy of His presence. 

To Voskamp's thousand

“You can’t handle the truth!”  That was Jack’s line, with the burning glare and that unrelenting arrogance.  Today I revise Jack’s words on account of something Ann Voskamp says.  In Chapter 1 of One Thousand Gifts, she talks about the sin of ingratitude.  God told Adam he was free to eat from any tree in the garden, except for one.  And Adam chose that one.  So we wonder, why did he allow himself to be lured to the forbidden?  With an abundance that pleased the eye and also the health of the body, why?  It’s like the time I had a shoulder ache.  The pain worsened and worsened and eventually preoccupied my every thought, and I pleaded for the Lord to take it away.  Then one day it was gone.  And with it also disappeared my fervency of prayer.  The Lord had illustrated for me how He brings good from bad and how without the bad pain, I wandered away.  Generally people don’t handle the good very well.  Jack would say, “You can’t handle the good!”  Our provisions are set, our worries should be none, yet we carelessly wander away from the Lord, so He sometimes allows a point of pain to re-center our need of Him.  Our eyes reopen to the realization of our nakedness, our insufficiency on our own, our personal lack.  Hence the importance to be thankful.  Let us not slide away.  May we not require the Lord to illustrate again with pain.  How many times do we relive the fall of Genesis 3?

Coffeehouse catastrophe?

Aaahhhhhh!  What did I say?!#*  I panicked.  Two friends invited the new barista to come to church, but what inadvertent words had slipped out of my mouth?  We like to arrive the coffeehouse early to see what's going on and maybe talk a little before we play.  This time I heard the barista call my name, and his finger pointed to the calendar listing our names for music that night.  But there was also another name.  And a silent gasp fluttered across my throat.  Really it came when I imagined friends rushing across town to join us, and I felt bad they might enter the door and realize they rushed for nothing because we weren’t even playing yet.  The barista offered to ask the other guitarist to reschedule, but my husband reassured, “Don’t worry.  Let him play; then we’ll take a turn.”  So we spent the next minutes greeting friends and explaining, and honestly we enjoyed the longer-than-usual time to visit at the start.  I remember saying aloud, “Maybe the Lord has something in this.”  We sang a favorite Matt Maher tune, and the night filled fast with fun and energy.  And still we were glad to have those somber and thought-provoking moments that good songs and stories bring.  But now it was Saturday morning, and my brain was in a different gear.  I was nervous to recall that gasp when the barista told me.  Was there any part of me that conveyed anger at the situation?  Any facial expression or words I regret?  How often does adversity reveal the truth of our faith?  When I said “Maybe the Lord has something in this,” I hadn’t imagined He had a lesson in humility presenting personally to me.  So I prayed.  And I prayed again.  “Lord, I ask that nothing about my reaction last night dissuade our new barista from this invitation to church.  If there was any hint of anger or any grimace of frustration on my face, let him not remember it.  May he remember Your name and know Your presence above all.”  Philippians 4:4-7 says, “Rejoice in the Lord always.  I will say it again;  Rejoice!  Let your gentleness be evident to all.  The Lord is near.  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.”  May He guide us to consider Him and others before ourselves.  And how I thank Him for standing in the gap on my account.