Gosnell & the fallen bird

 

I saw a strange white spot in the front yard grass, and it was an odd shape.  I bent down for a closer look and realized this spot was a bird.  Was he alive?  What could I use to softly nudge him?  I found a gray-and-white feather lying nearby, and it would serve to allow me to check on him gently, yet soon I realized he couldn’t move.  I wondered if he had a sibling anywhere, and a couple of feet away I saw his brother.  Nudging him with the same feather, I was intrigued to see this brother was still alive.  I called my mom because she loves birds and studies them and possibly she’d know what to do, yet she said sometimes there’s not a lot you can do except hope that the parent bird will come.  Years ago I rescued a fallen bird and put him in a box that I tied to a tree branch near his nest, and it seemed that he lived.  My predicament today, though, was different because this bird was younger, and the mountain laurel branches that held his nest looked too flimsy to support a box, and for me to put him back in his actual nest was impossible because it was too high.  I did use a cloth to gently move him into the shade.  I took him a little plastic lid of water and kept trying to touch it to his beak.  One time I stepped away from him and heard the telephone ringing in the house.  It was my husband calling to say the jury in the Gosnell trial had just now declared him guilty of murdering 3 babies and “involuntarily slaughtering” an adult life.  All morning the whole issue of life had been running through my head with these little birds.  Life is precious.  It’s fragile.  And as plainly as the latter verses of Deuteronomy 30 tell us to choose life, somehow our society has come to dispose of it rather flippantly.  This little bird today stretches his neck and squirms with his wings to try and find his way.  He fights to live in a world he can’t even see because he’s too young for his eyes to open.  He doesn’t know why he’s struggling to survive, but his nature is to not quit, even already having suffered the terror of a 10-foot fall from a tree, which especially for a tiny bird is a thought that makes me shudder.  Into the afternoon and now the evening, I’ve kept checking on my little bird, and I tip his plastic lid of water, seeing his mouth open to sample more moisture.  I prayed early on for the life of this young one, yet in the beginning I had to honestly address the issue of how much effort I would put into trying to save him.  I concluded that whether this bird lives minutes, hours, or days, the Lord has used him to illustrate the beauty of life.  Even the youngest have a desire to live that compels them to fight.  How I thank the Lord for giving me a day unconstrained that I would find this bird and work to provide for his life. Yet the question remains:  To what extent do we stand up for life?  We have opportunity daily to encourage our world to uphold it.  Ultimately Jesus Christ is our way and truth for all that lives.

A worldwide bookshelf

Today is introduction day.  In the last month, this blog has hosted visitors from France, Germany, Japan, Malaysia, Russia, Slovakia, Turkey, and the USA.  Most of these are parts of the world to which I’ve never traveled, all in turn making this blog connection extra sweet!  It’s like a worldwide library with all of us walking up to the same bookshelf to check out the same book of stories.  Recently a friend suggested acknowledging the breadth of readership here, and so today I officially welcome you to this blog!  To the readers in all 8 countries this last month, may you take pleasure in knowing each other's company, and I'm so glad you're here!  You are not simply a statistic, nor are you a casual passerby.  You are someone for whom I pray, and you are one whom Jesus Christ loves dearly.  I never know the exact addresses of readers, so don’t worry about privacy issues.  All I know is the name of the country wherein someone’s computer sits.  I think of Mark 16:15, where Jesus is telling the apostles, “Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation.”  Each of us today experiences the Lord in our separate parts of the world, yet we come together through Jesus and the Bible and in the reading of this blog.  Your country may send missionaries to my country, and mine may send missionaries to yours.  Yet according to 1 Peter, we are one nation.  As he addresses Believers who are scattered throughout the countries, Peter says in 2:9 that we are a “holy nation, a people belonging to God, that [we] may declare the praises of him who [calls us] out of darkness into his wonderful light.”  I look forward to welcoming next month’s readership too.  How I would be elated as well to hear your stories of the Lord anytime.

Impromptu at the breakfast nook

I had been reluctant.  I hadn’t relished the thought of arriving 2 hours early for my husband to rehearse some music.  Where would I go while he was busy?  The hallways were quiet, and our jovial greeter at the side door was absent this day.  I chose to study at the empty breakfast nook, just for something different.  My notes on Matthew 5 fell open onto the table (and I do mean that literally because all the extra papers I’ve tucked into my Bible have left its seams on the verge of explosion), and so I took a moment to rearrange.  As the morning progressed, hallway traffic picked up speed.  From a distance, I saw a friend to whom we usually offer a ride as he’s walking the road from the bus stop.  I called out as he entered the building, “Hey, we looked for you earlier!  Sorry we didn’t get to give you a ride.”  “That’s all right,” he said, and given that this hallway today was different from where we usually see each other, he stopped to ask what I was doing.  I explained about Matthew 5 and about teaching, and he asked, “Are you nervous?”  “No,” I answered, “I love sharing stories of the Lord, and I love our class.”  And from that point of connection, the Lord proceeded to bless the 2 of us with some wonderful conversation.  And it wasn’t just one blessing, for in the process of all our talk, the Lord gave multiple new insights for teaching that day, even supplying the thrill of seeing Him orchestrate the whole encounter.  Our empty breakfast nook had blossomed into hosting 2 hours that were filled to the brim with joy, and I smiled to see how the thought of “something different” that led me to the nook in the first place was far more than casual notion.  What seems impromptu in our minds, the Lord has known all along.

A plain cardboard job that dazzles

It was an occupation my friend had said she’d never do.  The idea in itself simply never seemed attractive.  Even more unappealing was the fact that my friend’s weird relative who connected her with this new job would become her daily co-worker.  Yet upon asking the Lord to provide, it was this one part-time role in home healthcare that landed in my friend’s lap, and as she explained to me recently the intriguing chain of events, I smiled to listen.  From the onset, she didn’t welcome the notion of surrendering her time with her children.  She had been reluctant too to relinquish her love of homeschooling.  Yet importantly, she allowed room for however the Lord might use her to supplement her family’s finances.  And that’s when the cardboard box arrived at her door.  On the outside, it looked plain and uneventful and even unpleasant.  On the inside, some wonderfully colorful shapes and sizes were about to be unpacked.  In the earliest days, my friend realized half of her on-duty hours would likely include sleep time for her elderly patient, consequently allowing her a little breathing room as she entered this whole environment she’d perceived as unattractive.  She soon saw also that her children could travel with her sometimes to help mow the elderly man’s grass or maybe just freshen his household with a sweet youthful grin.  She continues to witness day to day the gradual unveiling of some fascinating facets of this man’s 80+ years of life.  Evidently he did some designing in New York, and he's lived in various parts of the U.S., and still she's waiting for the right time to ask about this steamboat photo she's curious about and perhaps some elements of European history.  Altogether my friend's recent walk with the Lord has proved to be quite scenic.  All from within that plain cardboard box labeled healthcare that figuratively arrived at her front door, a wide array of colorful blessings continues to pour out.  And as all these parts work together under the umbrella of broadened perspective, my friend has been blessed too by the daily association with her particular family member she no longer considers weird.  All the more how I love the Lord for blessing my friend and for inspiring us all with a fresh look at the grace He offers every day.

Detoured in Target

Roadblocks and detours often frustrate the day.  Last week, actually, I met up with a detour that was amazingly fun.  The meeting place was Target, in particular a Target store situated between my friend’s house and mine.  We live across town from each other, and on this morning we chose to meet in the middle, as she knew this Target had a quaint little cove behind the coffee counter.  And it was wonderful.  Sitting near the big windows, we enjoyed the coziness inside while watching the rain pouring outside.  We sat there for hours, and in the course of lots of topics, we laughed and cried, and the Lord bestowed many blessings.  We opened our Bibles, and we listened and talked, and I didn’t even realize some of the blessings until about 1:30, when I had to leave for the doctor.  Little did I know that my dermatologist would end up biopsying 2 spots, yet I felt no anxiety in the process.  I credit the calmness to all our laughing and crying having cleansed me earlier, leaving no ground for anxiety to build.  But then came another chapter in the story.  That night by phone, my friend told me she stayed at our coffee cove for another hour after I left.  All that morning, there had been a lady sitting near us, and she glanced toward our table occasionally.  In that hour after I left, she came to ask my friend about the Lord and about studying the Bible.  Man, I wanted to jump out of my skin!  My heart leaped into a dance even as I had to stand still to talk on the phone!  That whole morning, the Lord had been guiding our conversation down a wonderful road we didn’t even realize.  The longer I pondered, the better I understood what had happened in the parking lot.  I remember saying goodbye and pointing to my friend at the table and telling her that we would talk soon.  Putting the key in the car, I wondered why I had assumed my friend would stay at the table.  Why didn’t she just walk out with me?  Yet now I knew the Lord held her feet.  Essentially He roadblocked her feet and detoured her to stay and talk to the lady.  The whole scenario showed again how the Lord orchestrates our movements and conversations.  And still today I smile to think how He steered us onto those second and third roads of blessing so effortlessly.  All we knew was joy in the process.

Volleyball & Jesus

What can the Lord do with the game of volleyball?  My friend tells a story that takes the game far beyond spikes, serves, and blocks.  She tells of her husband serving as videographer for their 2 daughters’ club team.  Recently her husband prepared to show the team a video of a past game, but somehow the video wouldn’t work.  Somehow the bells and whistles inside the laptop wouldn’t let the video play, and at that point, I imagine the team dismissing from their huddle in disappointment.  The coach opted for a new plan of action and asked one of my friend’s daughters to select some music from her iPod as background for practice.  And that’s where the fun began.  The only music available on the iPod was Christian music, and so the gym suddenly became witness to the name of Jesus being sung up into the rafters.  Amidst all the voices that called and yelled on the practice court that day, the hallowed name of the Lord weaved in and around them all.  What wonderful testament to the idea of readiness that's mentioned in 1 Peter 3:15, saying, “. . . Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have . . . with gentleness and respect.”  In this case, a young Believer stood ready in the midst of an ordinary volleyball practice, and in the course of answering her coach’s request for music, the name of the Lord was celebrated into the open air.  All those months ahead when my friend asked us to pray about volleyball for her family, never was the issue actually only volleyball.  With the Lord, any single circumstance holds capacity for so much more.  And still now I pray for the words and melodies sung during that volleyball session to continue to stir among the team and their coach and all who would hear.

Beaded & buttoned for life

Before I left the house last Wednesday, I was reminded to take a towel to cushion my knees.  I scanned the bedroom shelf for my little orange Gideons Bible and tucked it in my red bag, for it seemed my instruction was to kneel and to read Scripture.  Already in the bag was my usual tube of sunscreen, and I dug around to double-check for a pen, my ID, and my phone.  And now I headed to the car.  My bag sat on the passenger seat for the next 30 minutes, and each time I glanced at it, I smiled to think of my daughter who handed it down to me.  This cloth bag is covered with fun black and white beads and buttons sewn in alternating patterns, and its whole combination of threads and stitched mirrored pieces is just plain sweet.  Wearing this bag today brought a welcomed whimsicality to an occasion that can be quite heavy and serious and literally life-threatening for many, and I welcomed the Lord encouraging me with simple pleasures toward staying the course.  In Romans 14:11, I read that one day every knee in all creation will bow before the Lord, and so there must be worthwhile reason for our kneeling.  This Wednesday, I trusted the Lord had specific reason.  This particular abortion center is surrounded by much activity, including the busyness of cars and buses and interestingly a pediatric clinic, and so I am watchful in the midst of prayer.  While walking, I read from my Bible, finding strength in seeing and hearing the Psalms.  My folded towel proves to be a wonderful cushion for my knees, though eventually I stand to walk again.  Upon kneeling a second time, I notice another lady kneeling to pray.  Later still, I see a third lady kneeling, and I am humbled to realize the Lord’s instruction to me was not for only me.  My role as a kneeling pray-er was playing a small part in a larger chord of pray-ers.  The size of the blessing felt huge yet humbling at the same time.  I pondered for a while that crucial point where obedience serves as a crossroads of blessing beyond ourselves, where its effect ripples outward many times over.  The blessings had been multiplied for me, and I was not even the main focus of the prayer.  The primary intent was to pray for the many who are connected with the abortion center, yet how gracious was the Lord in the way He led me to the sidewalk.  He encouraged me at home in reminding me about the towel and my little Gideons Bible and in showing me the beaded and buttoned bag that makes me smile.

Along a Certain Road

Think for a minute:  Who is your favorite person to call?  Who do you celebrate with?  Who listens when you cry deep?  This week I studied the word call in Greek, particularly the verb used in John 10:3, which says, “. . . He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.”  My dictionary offered a new tinge on the word PHONEO, which is the verb in this particular verse, saying that it implies a pleasure in the calling of each individual name.  It’s not a dutiful calling in anger like “Go clean your room!”  Neither is it a calling to reprimand for having done harm.  Here it is the sounding of a call that’s spoken with delight.  Sometimes I try to imagine hearing the Lord utter my name, and then I realize I have heard Him speak it already.  He has garnered my attention and conveyed different messages for different tasks, yet I don’t remember His pronunciation of the English spelling of L-i-n-d-a.  He understands my English when I pray, yet certainly at His disposal are ways for calling me outside the English language.  The point here is that He takes pleasure in calling us, and however it is that He pronounces our names, we can hear and choose to listen with pleasure as well.  In work, and in rest, and in intrigue and wonder, I worship Him in my decision to follow.  Today I share with you a video I created upon the Lord’s prompting.  I hope it testifies to the blessings of wanting to make my desires secondary to His.  He calls us to travel along His certain road, and I pray you know first-hand the blessings of letting Him lead.  Click Along a Certain Road or search it on YouTube.

Raised, furled, & awkwardly employed

That look of bewilderment.  I’ve been on the receiving end of it lately.  I’ve witnessed the occasional furled upper lip and definitely the awkward pause inserted into conversation.  My lack of a full-time job has seemed to be culprit for causing these puzzled reactions.  Maybe more accurately the problem has been my lack of automatic desire for full-time work.  Recently I discussed with someone about different types of work.  Unintentionally my half of our conversation centered on volunteering, and by the time we finally talked about my new employment at the community college, I heard her words spoken almost in exasperation, “Do they pay you for that?”  I noticed the tilt of her head and the near-snarl of her lip and wondered if she really meant, “Surely you bring in some kind of income, don’t you?”  On another occasion with a different person, I caught the ogling eye that politely insinuated, “How can you be satisfied with volunteering and unpaid roles?”  Maybe in this case she more pointedly meant, “Why would you want to be satisfied with unpaid roles?”  When I began teaching piano at home, I asked the Lord if I should charge a lesson fee, and if so, how much.  Such joy comes in the teaching of music, yet fees can run $25 for a 30-minute slot easily, and consequently lessons for many become an impossibility.  When I told a friend I charged $15 per lesson, she responded, “Why?  You know you can charge more, don’t you?”  All I know is that I prayed and felt inclined toward $15.  I do realize I fit neither the career mold nor the stay-at-home mold.  Honestly I want only the follow-the-Lord mold, and that’s one that has many different appearances.  All across the years of my variety of jobs, whether full-time pay, part-time pay, or no pay at all, the Lord has provided abundantly for my family the necessities of living.  Yet my friends’ recent facial expressions have reminded me that we’re strangers in this world (1 Peter 2:11).  Occasionally we’re strangers among our fellow Christians, though we love them all the same.  And actually, when we pause and rethink why we do what we do, it can be a good thing—raised eyebrows and all.

Silenced at an Italian eatery

I love hidden treasures.  A couple of weeks ago, I loved finding this quaint little Italian restaurant here in San Antonio.  It’s a place now high on our list of favorites, due in part to its beef lasagna and scrumptious chicken parmigiana.  The initial draw for us was the dinner theater they host there once a month.  Once we arrived and realized their family-style placement of tables in long rows, we very much enjoyed sharing the company of our assigned table-mates for the evening.  Our immediate group bridged an age span of probably 40 years, and quite remarkably we loved the conversation.  All kinds of discussions of jobs, schools, family, and hobbies, yet interestingly there was one particular point that caused our table to fall silent.  One of the men asked me how I came to work in theater, and I answered, “God called me there.” And suddenly everything halted.  No more words spoken, no more smiles, no more laughter.   I don’t know why exactly, but our section of the table sat motionless at that point.  I’ve wondered about it since then and have thought of several possible reasons, though I’ll never know for certain.  I imagine I could’ve answered the man's question by saying my husband suggested theater to me or that my friend called me about a theater job opening, and maybe the reaction of the table wouldn’t have brought silence.  But somehow the 3 words God called me threw a hiccup into the conversation.  Yet the idea of the Lord speaking to us is a very real thing.  I read again this morning in John 10 about Jesus our Shepherd calling to us.  We are His sheep, and our relationship with Him through listening and speaking certainly runs two-way.  In the days following that Friday night, I continued to pray for the Lord to bless our table companions.  For whatever reason the silence came, may He stir their curiosity, may He give them understanding, and may they know the depths of His love.