Beyond jams & jellies at Central Market

Last month my husband and I shopped at Central Market.  There’s only one of its kind in San Antonio, and I hoped to finally find unsweetened carob as a noncaffeine substitute for chocolate.  Glad to say, we found it.  Even better, we approached their tasting area for jams and jellies, and lo and behold, I heard a familiar voice.  It’s a friend we hadn’t seen in many months, and how I loved the surprise of seeing him today!  He lives not too far, and the bus delivers him right in front of the market.  Such fun to talk, but then after probably 20 minutes we parted ways, and I gave him our phone number again, just in case.  Days passed, and weeks passed, and then he called me about something totally different, inquiring as to whether I’d be interested in helping him teach English classes.  He planned for lessons to begin with Bible study in Spanish, then we’d choose particular words from the verses to translate into English, and then we’d add vocabulary to build sentences and practice pronunciation all along the way.  He had recently received requests for English classes, and the whole idea sounded so exciting that I almost forgot to ask the Lord.  So I paused and prayed, not wanting to jump into a new endeavor on my own, and in a few days I called our friend to accept his invitation.  He asked about my husband bringing his guitar for some coritos, and the very next Sunday evening, we loaded our Bibles, the guitar, and our bilingual songsheets, and we’ve been blessed ever since.  Our students have become our new friends.  And how I’m humbled to realize I had nothing to do with creating these sweet circumstances.  All we did was walk into a store, presuming our only purpose was to find unsweetened carob.  Jesus says in John 3:21, “But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what he has done has been done through God.”  Thank you, Lord, for enlightening me this day.

Patient Puppetry: Plan B

I wondered how this trip to the hospital would play out.  My puppet partner was still out of town, and I’d been praying.  With a loose idea of how to adapt our puppet script, I left our usual cardboard theater at home and this time would enter the puppets from around a corner in the hospital playroom.  I’d tell some silly jokes, such as “What’s the best way to keep dogs out of the streets?” (Answer:  Put them in a barking lot.)  I’d also change puppets frequently, making exaggerated entrances like “E-x-c-u-u-u-s-e  m-e,” then asking a laughable question to encourage kids to smile.  Because we never know exactly who'll attend our puppet shows, whether teenagers, toddlers, or even adults, our need for flexibility rates high.  And I had asked the Lord to impart His selection of songs for us and tailor the whole occasion for the sake of any and all who would come.  Sometimes I caught myself smiling days ahead, just imagining the fun of interacting with these children.  So when Thursday came, I happily packed my cart for the hospital.  Turns out the playroom that day held extra volunteers who welcomed me in.  Eventually we greeted parents, grandparents, nurses, therapists, and a chaplain who joined our quite lively group of young patients.  Only "Jesus Loves the Little Children" from our regular sing-a-longs made the lineup that afternoon, as a very kind volunteer wholly adopted the new role of puppet front man, practically emceeing the whole routine.  To hear the kids chuckle and realize the Lord supplying them enjoyment, even in the midst of medical heartache, was truly a thrill for me.  To witness the Lord orchestrating words and timing among volunteers was awe-inspiring.  Indeed He had prompted my heart to make this trip, and along the way He supplied everything necessary to carry it out.  Philippians 4:19 says, “And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.”  Amen.

From the playground to the cedar cross

An awesome thing has lingered with me for weeks.  It started with a simple drive past an elementary school.  I’d passed this school before and really didn’t pay much attention until my friend and I were praying.  We met farther down the road at a large cedar cross on the property of her church.  Praying outside, we’d become accustomed to ant bites and mosquitoes and San Antonio’s extreme heat, yet this time something new floated in the air:  the voices of the children from the school.  And the voices stirred new thought.  I wondered, “If the children's playground voices floated to us, then to where and to whom were our voices floating?”  Who else was hearing the name of Christ that we spoke in prayer?  Whom all might the Lord be inspiring here?  This was wonderfully exciting.  And entirely possible.  And it fit right alongside other inclinations I’d had about taking the church into the world, stepping outside the walls of the church building and into the streets, into the businesses, into the open spaces where people roam.  In Mark 16:15, Jesus says, “Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation.”  I trust He knew we’d tend to isolate ourselves.  So He gave the instruction, and it’s time to move beyond our walls and privacy fences.  I pray for Him to give us His love of people and fill us with His joy.

Tendrils of the vine

This vine in my backyard has become my teacher.  It’s a passion flower vine with a beautiful purple blossom, yet it’s the way its tendrils reach out that has me intrigued.  Like human arms, these thin, green strands extend toward the nearest slat of the fence, illustrating a treasured lesson of faith.  My husband crisscrossed some string at the corner of the yard to serve as a trellis, and with remarkable grasp, these tendrils have spun around it fast and snug.  Seeming to travel whole inches in a day, they’ve caused me to wonder, “If I stared for an hour, would I witness the tendrils actually in motion?”  Then too, their strength intrigues me, for when heavy rain poured a few weeks ago, this vine didn’t budge.  Not one tendril unleashed from any string or any slat of the fence, and quickly I questioned, “What if I clung to the Lord like these tendrils cling?  What if I held so closely to the Lord that no storm, no temptation of any size could set me asunder?”  In John 15:5, Jesus says, “I am the vine; you are the branches.  If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.”  I’m reminded of limitless spiritual opportunity that comes with clinging to the Lord.  He is our absolute sustenance.  Again this morning I eagerly visited our vine, noticing many buds soon to blossom.  Yet it’s the tenacity of the tendrils that sets the array of these purple beauties.      

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.