Different Jericho, different trumpet

A different kind of idea ran through my head.  Actually it made me a bit nervous, in a good way.  New ideas tend to do that, at least the ones the Lord plants in me.  So I was certain to ask Him, “Lord, is this of You?”  I’d never taken my flute to the abortion center before.  My time there had ebbed and flowed over the years due to work schedule and various things, and lately I’d been driving there on Tuesdays to pray.  I occupy the public sidewalk in front, between the parking lot and the street, in case anyone reconsiders their decision and wants a prayer companion or a listening ear.  And so now, as I'm thinking through this new idea, which is to take my flute and play “Jesus Loves the Little Children,” I realize it's a rather simple task.  Yet I wondered, “What will people think of the flute?  Will someone say I'm too loud?  Will they tell me to quit playing?  What if I disrupt someone else's prayer?"  Temptation came in many forms, yet I decided to take the flute with me.  I knew the honks and screeches of the nearby street could easily drown out my tiny melody.  No one but me and the Lord might hear the song.  As it turned out, one girl smiled to greet me, “Oh, are you playing today?  I wish I thought of something like that.”  Then another chimed in, “I’m so glad you brought your music.”  And as it seemed the Lord had nestled me within the encouragement of others, I proceeded to play unto Him.  I loved Him for walking with me down this new road.  That day and many Tuesdays since then, I've recalled the story of Jericho.  In Joshua 6, the Lord instructs Joshua to march with his men around the city and sound their trumpets.  Certainly my flute is not the first instrument the Lord has called to purpose.  Certainly my circumstances are not the first to be viewed as different or strange.  And as Joshua's obedience to the Lord led him to victory, we can be confident our obedience will yield blessing as well.

Ocean of blessing

Take everything to the Lord.  The little.  The big.  The happy.  The sad.  Celebrate with Him.  Cry with Him.  Every decision.  Every thought.  “Lord, lead me today.  Guide me.  Purify me and set me on Your path.”  This testimony follows on the heels of my feeling hounded by decision-making.  I felt worn.  Unwanting of any more, I sensed my composure caving in.  And as the pressure of more decisions heaped on, I saw the Lord go to battle on my account.  The first involved my volunteer role with girls who have been abused.  I love these girls deeply.  I feel privileged and hugely blessed to serve them.  My difficulty lay among canceled appointments, rescheduling, extra phone calls, court dates, and longer driving distances.  I felt stretched on time and unsure of how everything could fit together.  I pleaded, "Lord, what is my role here?  Please make these decisions for me.”  Then in the midst of initiating one of those extra phone calls, I suddenly realized peace.  Anxiety floated away.  I smiled in quiet rejoice of knowing the Lord's presence.  Next was my job with theatre.  Staring at numerous rehearsal and performance changes, again I asked the Lord to walk with me.  “Lord, speak from my mouth when to say ‘yes’ and when to say ‘no.’”  Then as conversation commenced and carried on, I felt the stress in my shoulders dissipating.  The Lord had delivered me once again, dispelling my discouragement.  Next was our trip to Port Aransas.  For my husband especially, this weekend away was a welcome thought.  Such delight we took in imagining the ocean and a picturesque walk on the beach.  And then came a phone message from the condo office forewarning us about roof repairs and hammering noise and the possibility of the air conditioner turning off, and suddenly I’m screaming “Ahhhhhh!”  But my husband swoops in to tell me not to cancel the reservation because our room is on the first floor.  Hammering on the fifth-floor roof shouldn’t be burdensome down at the bottom.  And I then recalled praying all those weeks ago about which room to book.  The Lord in His omniscience knew all about these roof repairs, and He took care of us.  Psalm 55:22 says, “Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous fall.”  And on this day these words lived out a depth of blessing.  With immense pleasure I paused to kneel, to bow, to raise my hands to celebrate His victory.  How precious is this freedom He gives that we may ask Him to take our anxieties.  Let Him shepherd us.  Let Him save us all over again each new day.

Lyrically stifled

Back in June, we had some curious musical things happen.  I remember connecting eyes with my husband as confusion whirled, and he knew I needed him to step in.  Why couldn’t I sing the next stanza?  This was a song we’ve led for years.  Yet he moved toward the mic and carried us into the chorus.  Guitar and song fell back into place, and we kept going.  But then it happened again, only in reverse.  This time it was my husband whose words fell unexpected.  He’s speaking between songs, and my heart begins to flutter.  Somehow the fluttering becomes panic, yet still I see no astonished faces in the congregation.  Perhaps the Lord is garnering only our attention.  But what’s going on?   Why wouldn’t my eyes let me move past that first stanza?  We were scheduled to sing again in 2 more weeks, and as that day approached and unfolded, the sequence of events proved similar.  What was it about Wednesdays?  Singing on Saturdays brought none of this awkwardness.  So I told our friend who schedules Wednesday music to hold off on scheduling us for a while.  We would finish out July as she had already included us, but for August onward, I wanted to be available to the Lord.  I needed Him to settle my heart.  And soon a very interesting conversation came.  As back in May a friend had posed the idea of conducting parenting classes to help some younger moms, and as weeks had passed since then, she wanted to know now if I could host the classes 4:00 – 6:00 on Wednesdays.  And right there I’m pretty sure I froze.  My ears, my brain, and my heart all took a sudden leap to rejoice.  Was this what the Lord was preparing me for?  Had He been clearing my music commitments on Wednesdays so I’d be available to conduct these classes?  It’s interesting that never again did we encounter any awkward musical moments.  Fulfilling our commitments for July, it seemed once I decided to decline any further music scheduling, the Lord had no need to garner my attention anymore.  He made His point.  And our parenting classes have been happening for 4 months now on different days of the week, but most consistently on Wednesdays.  And so I thank the Lord for those awkward moments back in June.  As His ways can be mysterious, they are perfect.  When we earnestly seek Him, He makes sure we find Him.  Second Corinthians 3:3 tells us we are letters from Christ “written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.”  Each of our experiences with Him is uniquely fashioned.  Each translates to us and to the world His desire to supply for our every step.  What is the Holy Spirit writing on your heart?

Mending Fence

I always liked Frost’s “Mending Wall.”  Every year my eighth-graders conjured a rather robust discussion of walls and fences.  Quite surprising, some might say, yet these students aptly posed and pondered a smart sampling of good and bad reasons that people have barriers.  Last Saturday the poem resurfaced as my husband and I rebuilt a gate.  The old, rotten slats had lost most of their strength, falling victim to a frustrated meter reader who pulled off the metal handle, leaving rusted nails exposed among teetering wood.  We unhinged it all and started from scratch.  Measuring, sawing, nailing, we hung the new wood but with unexpected pause.  I peered through partial slats with a pleasure I hadn’t known before.  A host of thoughts converged.  “May we put larger gaps between the slats?” I asked my husband.  A new sight of pastoral green captured me for a moment, as the old gate’s slats had been flush, without gaps, and you couldn’t see through.  This new view offered a stillness, a serenity.  And I remembered my eighth-graders discussing.  “Before I built a wall I’d ask to know what I was walling in or walling out,” Frost said.  And did we have any real requirement now to “wall in” the grass?  No neighboring livestock to separate from.  No real need.  Instead of closing doors, in this case a gate, to keep people out, the Bible tells us to go into the world.  Jesus says in Mark 16:15, “Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation.”  I didn’t want to shut people out.  This peaceful new green could remind us all of life and hope.  In John 10:9 Jesus says, “I am the gate, whoever enters through me will be saved.  He will come in and go out, and find pasture.”  And so my husband agreed to widen the gate’s gaps.  Now I walk to that side of the house more often because of the pleasure it brings.  I never knew replacing a gate would deliver such delight.  Lord, let our doors and gates swing open.  Let the world see the peace You bring.

Grocery store message

Last month we set out on a leisurely trip that turned out not so leisurely.  Stopping by the grocery store, we traipsed the aisles for milk and vegetables and ventured toward the cashier, only to realize a new idea pressing my heart.  As our items tallied from the conveyor belt, I saw the boy bagging groceries and felt compelled to ask him something.  Silently I prayed, “Lord, lead me.”  Suddenly this wage of war took place within.  Temptation NOT to ask versus compulsion TO ask.  And beginning to feel this spiritual battle’s heat, I examined my own priority, “Whom do I aim to please?  Man, or God?”  And then it happened.  The boy opened our conversation, saying “How has your weekend been?”  I shook my head, “Today we visited our nephew who’s very sick.”  He reassured, “I bet your nephew was happy to see you.”  I added, “We were glad to see him.  I prayed with him.  The good part is that he knows Jesus.”  And then came what had pressed on my heart.  I asked the boy, “Do you know Jesus?”  Aware this question tends to bring strong responses, I waited to see.  My point was simply to follow the prompting in my heart, which I trusted was the Lord’s.  The boy smiled to answer, “Yes, I do.  I go to church every Sunday.”  And while I was happy for the boy, I was also puzzled.  Why might the Lord prompt me to ask this question to someone who already knows Him?  There seemed no invitation for me to offer anyone.  Why the intense internal battle?  Perhaps this boy had his own spiritual battle waging.  Maybe the Lord connected us because our roles in battle served to encourage each other.  Or could my question have sparked the curiosity of someone else listening in the store?  All I know is that in following the Lord this day, my heart felt such pleasure.  To lay personal worries aside, to gauge the worst possible outcome against the best possible, to choose God’s purpose above mine, it’s all blessing.  It's as if the Lord is traffic cop of our thoughts, allowing one thought to pass through but not the next, as if holding up His white glove to let one lane prevail over the other, in the end letting His will win over temptation.  Seeking Him blesses us as well as our world.  Isaiah 55:8-9 says, “ ‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,’ declares the Lord.  ‘As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.’ ”  What joy we find in trusting Him.

Lost at the medical tower

What a good feeling to help someone.  My fellow volunteer and I stopped to talk at a bench in the medical office tower.  We noticed a girl entering the lobby, then exiting, then re-entering.  She explained her trouble in finding the LabCorp office, and so we endeavored to lend a hand.  In the course of the next hour, we saw a whole team come together to aid this girl who recently moved from Colorado.  Quite an army that the Lord orchestrated.  Quite a plan of rescue.  First, a maintenance man tried to help.  Then, my friend and I took a turn as hospital volunteers.  Next, a nursing director who made a phone call from within the second hospital connected across the parking garage.  Then, another employee who heard the director talking and chimed in to guide us to the covered walkway to LabCorp.  And as we finally arrived at LabCorp, all smiles, we saw the empty office, which meant no waiting for us, and I offered to stay through her test to help her retrace our trail back to our original lobby.  And glad to say, our trek back was pretty straightforward.  And I kept thinking the rest of the day what a delight it was to step into her world and away from any personal rat race of my own.  How faithful was the Lord to create this amazing sequence of connections, all on account of one child praying to her Father for help.  And from my side, my prayer that morning had been for Him to set me on His path and use me for His purposes.  First Peter 4:9-10 tells us, “Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling.  Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God’s grace in its various forms.”  We are indeed blessed to serve beyond ourselves.  Amen.

Regular job, or not?

Jobs.  They tire us.  They make us crazy.  But how would we spend our time if we didn’t have 40+ hours of work?  To contemplate a major change can rack the nerves.  But actually the whole of our identity isn't in the occupation.  There can be good in not being strapped to the rigors of 8 to 5.  And really the key is in our perspective of the command post.  We’re used to our tasks being humanly handed down by the man in the suit, the lady in heels, or whoever's carrying the clipboard.  But now the day is entirely open, and we can choose our Commander.  Hebrews 11:6 says the Lord rewards those who earnestly seek Him.  So we can ask God to set us in motion, upon His purposes, whether using us full- or part-time, paid or volunteer.  For me, while switching from business person to stay-at-home mom to teacher to writer to musician to actor and more, I've felt the anxiety of transition, yet I testify that life's been very exciting and immensely blessed.  Just this summer, as my theatre work is typically less, I've asked the Lord to order my steps, and He has given me new avenues to pursue.  For example, I've reconnected as volunteer to help sexual abuse victims.  It's a slightly different role this time, so I'm enduring some nervousness for what's new.  I'm continuing to pray into the very moment, remembering that when I volunteer, the Lord always keeps money in our bank account with one of His supernatural paychecks.  And He's given new amazement for watching Him orchestrate details.  What a precious privilege.  Regular job, or not, with the Lord at our helm, there's an ultimate calm upon the waters.  May we embark upon our days very intentionally as He sends us out to share His love with the world.

Fiancée & baby

What is this?  Everywhere I keep hearing about fiancées.  I finished an episode of Undercover Boss where the employee explained about his fiancée and new baby.  Then I talked with a college student who told about his fiancée being pregnant.  And along the way, day to day, it seems I’m within ever-increasing earshot of couples who are pregnant while planning their dream wedding.  And the emphasis on “dream wedding” catches my ear.  The word fiancée implies intent to marry, which can seem a happy occasion.  But something’s missing.  Used to be that people lived together, unmarried, but without mention of planning a wedding because they didn’t desire to marry.  Today I’m realizing more people seeming interested in marriage, at least to the point of saying fiancée instead of girlfriend, yet why do they wait?  Is it all the TV design shows that make weddings look so elaborate?  Have we been convinced it's worth postponing just to gain a higher price tag?  I’m curious.  While 1 Corinthians 6 talks about sexual immorality, and chapter 7 talks about marriage, verse 6:20 bridges the two, saying “Therefore honor God with your body.”  And so therein rests our real purity of purpose.  For whatever reason we’ve misprioritized the fancy frills of a wedding, it's not too late to re-start.  The Lord offers us a clean slate and a new beginning.  And how I love Him for His ready forgiveness.

Theatre license with a twist

Gasp!  Aahhhhh!  Only 2 driver’s licenses in my hand!  I left the car with 3, and what happened?  I retraced my steps down the hall, out the school and onto the sidewalk, across the parking lot and back to the car.  No license in the front seat where I’d been sitting.  Not in my purse.  Not anywhere.  Until my coworker exclaims, “Here it is!”  And slowing in near disbelief, I question, “In the backseat?!  How did it get there?”  My coworker adds, “I never saw it drop back here!”  It was by her feet on the floor on the passenger side.  And what really happened?  I still don’t know.  But each time I rethink this scenario, I ponder a larger picture.  Returning to the moment I realized my license missing, I remember inquiring of people along the way.  In the school office, I left a message, and one worker said she’d notify Maintenance, just in case they found something.  At the table of PTA ladies in the hallway, I stopped to ask if anyone turned in a stray license.  Afterward while still searching outside, I had one of the ladies so kindly approach me, “Did you ever find your license?”  I replied, “No.  I’m still looking.  I’m asking the Lord to show it to me.”  And after she left campus to go home, I kept wondering if this lady was going to have something come up lost in her future.  Could the Lord be speaking into her by illustrating with my scenario?  Was He preparing her to seek Him later for her loss?  Initially my panic over the license conjured nightmares of identity theft.  Waiting in line to replace my license would be such a hassle.  But that's all selfish on my part.  Sure, it’s possible the Lord mysteriously let my license land in the backseat, all for greater purpose beyond me. Sometimes we don’t see mysteries solve out because the greater purpose isn’t in our realm.  Yet even for the narrower view here, I love that the Lord came to my rescue.  This is one of many theatre trips with an interesting twist.  Luke 19:10 reads with broader meaning now, “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost.”

Valvoline: Deeper thought

Does anybody really work anymore?  Here’s why I ask.  Last week I drove over to our local Valvoline for the annual inspection on my car.  A bunch of us customers just started casually talking, and suddenly I felt my heart take a serious look into the way I live.  We all sat there for the same reason:  Because we preferred to pay Valvoline to do our work.  One lady said she also wanted Valvoline to change her oil.  Another lady wanted to find a good place to get her car washed.  Then came mention of locating a reliable lawn service.  Then still, someone was going by the salon to get her fingernails painted.  Add to all that, the fact that almost any place on the planet you can hear someone talking about eating out, and finally all this talk of paying other people to cook and clean and work for us became quite noticeable to me.  It's like buying clothes and realizing we're actually hiring someone else to do our sewing.  And the list goes on and on and on to the point of sounding like we don’t do any work ourselves because we’re always paying someone else.  When we buy books, aren’t we really paying someone else to write?  Aren’t we paying school taxes and tuition for someone else to teach our children?  And if we’re paying out all this money for other people’s work, when is it that we do any work?  The physical energy of work can be cleansing.  I remember the words of my aunt who taught decades of school children.  She told of the difference she saw when kids could no longer safely walk to school.  Students began arriving campus all pent-up because they just hopped out of the car instead of walking out their energy.  And it makes sense.  Second Thessalonians 3 tells us:  “If a man will not work, he shall not eat.”  So we know work can be a good thing.  And as this chapter 3 cautions against idleness and becoming a busybody, which is not a good thing, I've been looking introspectively to examine the types of work I do.  Sometimes my husband and I tackle a new project when we’re stressed.  Recently painting our kitchen cabinets, we knew the physical motion of taking out the paintbrushes and manually disassembling the doors helped us to unwind.  The process of rotating the screwdrivers and removing the hinges ourselves allows the emotions to release, much like the children whose walking helped them unwind before school.  And if we pay someone else to do all our work, we miss out.  In fact, our next home project is painting the fascia boards outside, and it’ll definitely involve some sweat, but it’ll also have that element of good in its physicality.  And so I wonder, how many other jobs should I consider doing on my own instead of paying someone else?  Could there be a a new task coming your way as well?