It was a week best forgotten.
Relationship-wise, I could do nothing right.
I had misunderstandings with friends, acquaintances, relatives...you name it. If it had to do with a human being, there were problems. I think the kicker was Friday when the octogenarian laid into me for something someone else had actually done. It's bad enough being kicked when you're down, but being kicked by a little old lady when you're down is just WRONG.
I lost it. Dissolved into a blubbering mass of tears and shining beacon of a red nose, feeling sorry for myself for a good hour. The tears eventually ended. The red nose may take a while.
Of course, it didn't help that it's been 157 degrees in the shade here for the past two weeks. It didn't help that the ozone layer has caused my allergies to go into major overload and the resulting sinus headache over the past week has been more than any sane person would be able to put up with for an extended period of time. It didn't help that I haven't been able to have any vacation time this year, or any time away, alone with God.
Would I like a little cheese with my whine?
So big deal. So I had a bad week. It happens. But good things happened as well.
In every instance...EVERY INSTANCE...of tension, God was honored. I won't take credit for being the one who did the honoring every time, although I did eventually come around to it. I am thankful for godly friends who did their part in the resolution process, making sure God's precepts were followed.
In the past, I would've been the type of person who would stuff my anger and hurt inside. I'd never let the person who hurt me know, but I'd hold it against them. "I'll show them!" I'd say. Of course, I would be the one who was ultimately hurt even more in the process.
Now, even though it's scary, I try to wait until the anger has subsided to let the person know how I feel. It doesn't always work, but I try to clear the air. By the same token, if I've hurt someone and I know it, I try to talk it out with them as well. I hate to have something between me and another person. It eats at me constantly until it's resolved.
I think God intended it to be that way with His children. Forgiveness is important to Him. So much so that His Word says if we don't forgive, we won't be forgiven! I don't know about you, but I sure don't want to take that chance.
And then there's the way unforgiveness hinders other aspects of our spiritual lives. Take worship for instance.
The odd thing about a song is it's hard to sing it in worship when you have something you're holding inside in anger against someone else. How can you sing about love and grace and mercy and peace when all your heart is thinking about is anger and retribution and stress and unforgiveness? It's really difficult to sing a worship song with clenched teeth and balled-up fists. I know I'd have a problem with my husband serenading me about his undying love, while he was at the same time acting as if he'd like to punch someone out. The same goes for worship.
Ever try to take communion when you're angry at someone? It's hard to concentrate on the sacrifices He made, to remember those sacrifices in the proper way, when all I'm worried about is why Gertrude said I looked fat in the new pair of capris I just bought at Target this week, and who does she think she is, anyway? She's no great looker herself, and with that ratty, bleached blonde hair... oh, and pass the grape juice, will you?
Why wait to make things right with someone? How hard is it to make a call, to take the initiative, to take the first step? How hard is it to be the person who forgives? How hard is it to LET THE OTHER PERSON WIN...even if they were wrong? How hard is it to be the person who begins the healing, rather than the person who continues to have the festering wounds?
Is it worth losing the people you care about? Is it worth losing yourself?
Don't get me wrong. A lot of times forgiveness takes work. Lots of work. It takes humbling yourself, both before men and God. But in the end it's oh, so very worth it.
And the best part is what you gain.
Matthew 6:14-15
If you forgive those who sin against you, your heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you refuse to forgive others, your Father will not forgive your sins. (NLT)
Mark 11:25-26
And whenever you stand praying, if you have anything against anyone, forgive him, that your Father in heaven may also forgive you your trespasses. But if you do not forgive, neither will your Father in heaven forgive your trespasses.
(New King James Version © 1982 Thomas Nelson)
Monday, July 31, 2006
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Duck and Cover
It seems to come in waves.
Things will be rolling along just fine, thank you very much. The sun will be shining, skies are blue, God's in His Heaven and all's right with the world.
Then it hits.
First one, then another, like little drops of rain. Pretty soon they're falling faster and faster until it's like a veritable thunderstorm. The first ones aren't so bad, but as they continue they seem to get worse and worse. They slip out without me even knowing it. They land and do damage before I realize what's happened. They're like tiny little bombshells going off every time they hit. And with each and every explosion, more destruction takes place.
What are they? My words.
I'm convinced this is one of the ways God keeps me in line. No one can say some of the things I hear myself saying sometimes and not realize they're going to have to ask for forgiveness. It just isn't possible. So the question remains: why do I say what I say?
All I know is that it comes in increments of time. Things will be great for long periods of time, then for a week or so I'll find someone else is taking over my mouth. The filter in my brain is bypassed, and words I don't even think come spewing out, unfettered by the restraints of good manners, sense and lovingkindness. It is truly a wonder people don't haul off and knock me into next Tuesday after hearing me caution them not to eat that piece of pie, or plant their boot in my backside after I try to spout off some holier-than-thou spiel.
I find myself apologizing more during a week of this than I ever used to do in an entire year. Can it be that God is trying to teach me more than one thing here? Not only how to keep my mouth shut and learn to humble myself, but maybe there's something else. Something that has to do with the way I judge other people. People who have this problem on a daily basis. People I've disliked because of the way they've treated others.
Wow, God's a multitasker!
Thank You, Lord for showing me what I needed to see about myself. Forgive my mouth, Father. Forgive the absence of my heart in dealing with others. Help me to see them as You do, no matter what my ears may hear. Keep me ever mindful that I could very well be the same person I judge today.
Psalm 139:4
You know what I am going to say even before I say it, LORD. (NLT)
Luke 6:37
"Do not judge others, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn others, or it will all come back against you. Forgive others, and you will be forgiven. (NLT)
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are!
It all started out as an innocent way to have a fun. A family activity. A fun little twist on a simple little game. It was never meant to go on this long.
But here we are.
Once upon a time, when the kids were much smaller than they are now...MUCH smaller than they are now...we began a tradition of playing Hide and Seek. But this was no ordinary game of Hide and Seek. Oh no, that would be too easy. We had to make it more difficult. More challenging.
We play it in the dark.
We never play outside, and the basement is off limits. Counting begins in the living room or out on the patio if the weather permits. Whoever is "It" is allowed to carry a flashlight. The first person found is the next "It" unless they've already had a turn, and we only play one full round a night. Bear in mind we may have up to eight people playing at one time!
Over the years our little game has become renowned throughout the circle of friends my children have. We can't have anyone spend the night without a request for a game, and most times we comply. One of my daughter's friends from Virginia always has to play a round when she visits, even though she's now almost old enough to drive. Sometimes I think the kids just want to play to see us old fogies try to find a place to hide they haven't thought to look in all the years we've been playing. And after this many years, that's quite a feat!
Two nights ago as I was stuck in my closet between a plastic bag holding a suit I hadn't worn in seven years and the back wall waiting to be found, I considered how very blessed I am. True, many of the prime hiding places were no longer available since we had cleared much of the dirty laundry from bedroom floors. (Insert groans here.) However, how many families can say they still have kids ASKING to take part in a family activity in the middle school/early high school years? And how many parents of today would take the time out to spend with their kids playing a silly little game? Yet it's things like this that mean the most. These are the things our children will remember and pass on to their grandchildren.
Don't get me wrong. There's no way I have any room whatsoever to pat myself on the back. This is one thing and one thing only we stumbled upon that we just happened to do right. There are a myriad of other things we have done and continue to do wrong...just ask the kids. But through this one thing...this tiny little thing...I see there is hope for the days ahead. That God's promises are true. That my children will not forget what they have been taught throughout their lives about His love, His goodness, His mercy and His care. That His faithfulness will come through in the end and He will find them in a new way. Maybe not in the same way He finds me, or in the same way they've been taught, but in a new and different way.
Their own way.
And maybe that's not such a bad way to be found if you've been hiding in a dark place.
Proverbs 22:6
Train up a child in the way he should go, And when he is old he will not depart from it.
New King James Version © 1982 Thomas Nelson
But here we are.
Once upon a time, when the kids were much smaller than they are now...MUCH smaller than they are now...we began a tradition of playing Hide and Seek. But this was no ordinary game of Hide and Seek. Oh no, that would be too easy. We had to make it more difficult. More challenging.
We play it in the dark.
We never play outside, and the basement is off limits. Counting begins in the living room or out on the patio if the weather permits. Whoever is "It" is allowed to carry a flashlight. The first person found is the next "It" unless they've already had a turn, and we only play one full round a night. Bear in mind we may have up to eight people playing at one time!
Over the years our little game has become renowned throughout the circle of friends my children have. We can't have anyone spend the night without a request for a game, and most times we comply. One of my daughter's friends from Virginia always has to play a round when she visits, even though she's now almost old enough to drive. Sometimes I think the kids just want to play to see us old fogies try to find a place to hide they haven't thought to look in all the years we've been playing. And after this many years, that's quite a feat!
Two nights ago as I was stuck in my closet between a plastic bag holding a suit I hadn't worn in seven years and the back wall waiting to be found, I considered how very blessed I am. True, many of the prime hiding places were no longer available since we had cleared much of the dirty laundry from bedroom floors. (Insert groans here.) However, how many families can say they still have kids ASKING to take part in a family activity in the middle school/early high school years? And how many parents of today would take the time out to spend with their kids playing a silly little game? Yet it's things like this that mean the most. These are the things our children will remember and pass on to their grandchildren.
Don't get me wrong. There's no way I have any room whatsoever to pat myself on the back. This is one thing and one thing only we stumbled upon that we just happened to do right. There are a myriad of other things we have done and continue to do wrong...just ask the kids. But through this one thing...this tiny little thing...I see there is hope for the days ahead. That God's promises are true. That my children will not forget what they have been taught throughout their lives about His love, His goodness, His mercy and His care. That His faithfulness will come through in the end and He will find them in a new way. Maybe not in the same way He finds me, or in the same way they've been taught, but in a new and different way.
Their own way.
And maybe that's not such a bad way to be found if you've been hiding in a dark place.
Proverbs 22:6
Train up a child in the way he should go, And when he is old he will not depart from it.
New King James Version © 1982 Thomas Nelson
Monday, July 24, 2006
I Was Framed!
I am about to confess something that may astound the average reader. Gentlemen, hang on to your hats. Cover the ears of small children, and watch for women to faint. Here it comes, and it ain't pretty.
I am not cool.
Not only am I not cool, but I am not with it, hip, hep, stylin', fashionable or anything else vaguely resembling any of the above. I am woefully inadequate when it comes to moving in the correct circles of vogue. I live by the phrase "been there, done that" when it comes to low-cut jeans and bare midriffs. Trust me, that's a sight best left unseen these days anyway. My feet will no longer tolerate the spikey heels I wore in days of yore, and it's no wonder I still can't get over the thought of women wearing underwear on their feet....because after all, that's where thongs belong.
Having said all that, I must tell you about a recent foray I made into the world of fashion. Now bear in mind I have become one of those staid and true individuals I used to hate. One of those people who never want to try anything new. One who would be perfectly happy with seven sets of the same outfit in different colors so I could mix and match at will, never having to actually make a decision or choice on anything that might be wrong in any way. Kind of like having the old Garanimals wardrobe that little kids used to have. Just so long as you pick all tigers, you can be sure everything will match. But hey, you mix your tiger with your llama, and whoa! Fashion police come out of the woodwork!
But I digress...
Last week I made the trip to the jungle of the local mall to purchase new glasses. I'd been putting this trip off since last February when I had my eyes examined. Now, knowing I couldn't see the ink on the page unless one of the kids was standing across the room holding it for me was bad enough, but knowing I'd actually have to make a decision on a new pair of frames was worse.
So I waited for five months hoping against hope my eyes would improve.
In my book this was no worse than holding on to the size 6 jeans I bought at a garage sale in hopes that I would some day be able to fit into them. You know, the ones I bought when I went on that diet. The one in grade school. I finally got rid of those jeans. It took me until I reached the ripe old age of....well, I continue to digress.
Back to the mall. I knew I had to do something to break out of the rut I was in. I had to be adventurous. I had to step out of the box. I had to buy FASHIONABLE frames. Not just the regular old ovalish plain jane variety I'd had for years, but something my kids would be proud to see me wear. Something new, different, exciting.
Something that wasn't me.
And so, around an hour later, I walked out of the mall. I had enlisted the help of no less than five consultants, all but one of whom had given up on me. However, I had at last chosen the new frames. The hip, with it, stylin', fashionable frames that my kids could be proud of and that I could possibly despise for the next few years. The Jane Jetson frames.
During the last few days I've been wavering back and forth between love and hate with this latest change in my life. I have no doubt this is just another of the many adjustments yet to come in the ever-altering landscape of my days. Of course, I don't have to necessarily LIKE every change that comes about, but I realize they are a necessary part of life.
As a parallel, learning and growing to be more Christ-like demands commitment to change. I guess the question is, how committed am I? Do I change to please Him, or do I stay the same to please me? Do I take a chance and really pursue growth, or am I content to simply sit back in the LazyBoy of life and watch religious programming on television? Am I committed enough to let God mold me into the person He wants me to be, regardless of how much I have to change, or do I fall back into the same shape I was in before the touch of His hand? Do I say yes to forever being bent to His will, or only yes for now?
Yes, Lord. Forever. For now and forever.
Just call me Jane Jetson.
Isaiah 64:8
And yet, O LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, and you are the potter. We all are formed by your hand. (NLT)
I am not cool.
Not only am I not cool, but I am not with it, hip, hep, stylin', fashionable or anything else vaguely resembling any of the above. I am woefully inadequate when it comes to moving in the correct circles of vogue. I live by the phrase "been there, done that" when it comes to low-cut jeans and bare midriffs. Trust me, that's a sight best left unseen these days anyway. My feet will no longer tolerate the spikey heels I wore in days of yore, and it's no wonder I still can't get over the thought of women wearing underwear on their feet....because after all, that's where thongs belong.
Having said all that, I must tell you about a recent foray I made into the world of fashion. Now bear in mind I have become one of those staid and true individuals I used to hate. One of those people who never want to try anything new. One who would be perfectly happy with seven sets of the same outfit in different colors so I could mix and match at will, never having to actually make a decision or choice on anything that might be wrong in any way. Kind of like having the old Garanimals wardrobe that little kids used to have. Just so long as you pick all tigers, you can be sure everything will match. But hey, you mix your tiger with your llama, and whoa! Fashion police come out of the woodwork!
But I digress...
Last week I made the trip to the jungle of the local mall to purchase new glasses. I'd been putting this trip off since last February when I had my eyes examined. Now, knowing I couldn't see the ink on the page unless one of the kids was standing across the room holding it for me was bad enough, but knowing I'd actually have to make a decision on a new pair of frames was worse.
So I waited for five months hoping against hope my eyes would improve.
In my book this was no worse than holding on to the size 6 jeans I bought at a garage sale in hopes that I would some day be able to fit into them. You know, the ones I bought when I went on that diet. The one in grade school. I finally got rid of those jeans. It took me until I reached the ripe old age of....well, I continue to digress.
Back to the mall. I knew I had to do something to break out of the rut I was in. I had to be adventurous. I had to step out of the box. I had to buy FASHIONABLE frames. Not just the regular old ovalish plain jane variety I'd had for years, but something my kids would be proud to see me wear. Something new, different, exciting.
Something that wasn't me.
And so, around an hour later, I walked out of the mall. I had enlisted the help of no less than five consultants, all but one of whom had given up on me. However, I had at last chosen the new frames. The hip, with it, stylin', fashionable frames that my kids could be proud of and that I could possibly despise for the next few years. The Jane Jetson frames.
During the last few days I've been wavering back and forth between love and hate with this latest change in my life. I have no doubt this is just another of the many adjustments yet to come in the ever-altering landscape of my days. Of course, I don't have to necessarily LIKE every change that comes about, but I realize they are a necessary part of life.
As a parallel, learning and growing to be more Christ-like demands commitment to change. I guess the question is, how committed am I? Do I change to please Him, or do I stay the same to please me? Do I take a chance and really pursue growth, or am I content to simply sit back in the LazyBoy of life and watch religious programming on television? Am I committed enough to let God mold me into the person He wants me to be, regardless of how much I have to change, or do I fall back into the same shape I was in before the touch of His hand? Do I say yes to forever being bent to His will, or only yes for now?
Yes, Lord. Forever. For now and forever.
Just call me Jane Jetson.
Isaiah 64:8
And yet, O LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, and you are the potter. We all are formed by your hand. (NLT)
Sunday, July 23, 2006
As Time Goes By
I woke up a couple of days ago and discovered something I'd been expecting to happen for some time now.
My body is that of an actual, honest-to-goodness, card-carrying grownup.
I find pain in those words. Pain in the knowledge that my body is aging much faster than my mind. Pain in the awareness that I am truly not the person I seem to be from the way I look on the outside. Pain in the realization that regardless of who and what I am inside, people will treat me differently because of how I look on the outside.
It's already happening.
Yesterday at the grocery store one of the employees called me "Ma'am." It wasn't the first time, and it certainly won't be the last. However, this was a day I decided to let it be known in no uncertain terms that appearances could indeed be deceiving.
Two of the teenaged sackers at the end of the checkout stands were singing "John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt" as they worked. As each subsequent verse lessened in volume, followed by the inevitable "DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA" retort, I knew exactly what I had to do.
"That will be $8.32, Ma'am."
(....Jingleheimer Schmidt, That's my name too....)
"Will you be using your Chopper Shopper card today?"
(...Whenever we go out, the people always shout...)
"And you've saved $.29 cents today! Thank you for shopping at Price Chopper."
(...There goes John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt...)
At which point I wheeled my basket next to the sackers and joined them in a very loud, heartfelt,
before smiling, politely turning, walking away, and heading out to the parking lot with my bag of groceries.
They never knew what hit 'em.
I still enjoy driving with the windows down on a fine day, blasting my favorite music on the radio and singing at the top of my lungs. I love to dance, I love to worship, I love to LIVE my life to the fullest extent. Why then must I be limited by this outer shell and it's constraints? And why must others limit me further due to the appearance of this carcass I carry around, when it truly isn't ME?
A woman I work with is almost eighty. She has trouble hearing, she's had a hip replaced, and there are doubtless other physical ailments she has that I'm not privy to. However, her mind is certainly not as old as her body. As she told the mechanic at the car dealership when they kept delaying the pickup time of her repaired car, "The hair may be gray, buddy, but the mind is sharp as a tack!" This is a woman who is up to date on world events, politics, society, and social concerns. She's far from stupid. If I had to guess, I'd judge her mental age to be around fifty-five. Yet there are those who treat her as if she is fading and senile...simply because of her physical age.
This is one of the great reasons I long to be home with my Father. Home in the eternal Kingdom created just for me, in the brand new, perfect body I'll have. The body that will never age, the body that will be created for one purpose and one purpose only; to aid me in the worship of my King. I can't wait! My eyes will see with no glasses. I won't have migraines. I won't need medications to keep anything from going haywire. My joints won't have arthritis. I won't have to worry about my weight or if an outfit I'm wearing makes my behind look big or if my hair is having a good or bad day. No allergies, no constipation, no cavities, no zits, nothing sags, no wrinkles, no worries, no depression, no hurt, no anger, no despair.
Oh God, it can't come too fast!
But until then, until the time when I can have all of the wonderful things You've promised, I'll continue to live life to the fullest here. I'll make sure people know that even though this body may be failing, this spirit You've given me, this love of life, this mind and heart, are all alive and well.
And not nearly grown up yet.
Romans 8:23
And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering. We, too, wait with eager hope for the day when God will give us our full rights as his adopted children, including the new bodies he has promised us. (NLT)
My body is that of an actual, honest-to-goodness, card-carrying grownup.
I find pain in those words. Pain in the knowledge that my body is aging much faster than my mind. Pain in the awareness that I am truly not the person I seem to be from the way I look on the outside. Pain in the realization that regardless of who and what I am inside, people will treat me differently because of how I look on the outside.
It's already happening.
Yesterday at the grocery store one of the employees called me "Ma'am." It wasn't the first time, and it certainly won't be the last. However, this was a day I decided to let it be known in no uncertain terms that appearances could indeed be deceiving.
Two of the teenaged sackers at the end of the checkout stands were singing "John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt" as they worked. As each subsequent verse lessened in volume, followed by the inevitable "DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA" retort, I knew exactly what I had to do.
"That will be $8.32, Ma'am."
(....Jingleheimer Schmidt, That's my name too....)
"Will you be using your Chopper Shopper card today?"
(...Whenever we go out, the people always shout...)
"And you've saved $.29 cents today! Thank you for shopping at Price Chopper."
(...There goes John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt...)
At which point I wheeled my basket next to the sackers and joined them in a very loud, heartfelt,
DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA!!!
before smiling, politely turning, walking away, and heading out to the parking lot with my bag of groceries.
They never knew what hit 'em.
I still enjoy driving with the windows down on a fine day, blasting my favorite music on the radio and singing at the top of my lungs. I love to dance, I love to worship, I love to LIVE my life to the fullest extent. Why then must I be limited by this outer shell and it's constraints? And why must others limit me further due to the appearance of this carcass I carry around, when it truly isn't ME?
A woman I work with is almost eighty. She has trouble hearing, she's had a hip replaced, and there are doubtless other physical ailments she has that I'm not privy to. However, her mind is certainly not as old as her body. As she told the mechanic at the car dealership when they kept delaying the pickup time of her repaired car, "The hair may be gray, buddy, but the mind is sharp as a tack!" This is a woman who is up to date on world events, politics, society, and social concerns. She's far from stupid. If I had to guess, I'd judge her mental age to be around fifty-five. Yet there are those who treat her as if she is fading and senile...simply because of her physical age.
This is one of the great reasons I long to be home with my Father. Home in the eternal Kingdom created just for me, in the brand new, perfect body I'll have. The body that will never age, the body that will be created for one purpose and one purpose only; to aid me in the worship of my King. I can't wait! My eyes will see with no glasses. I won't have migraines. I won't need medications to keep anything from going haywire. My joints won't have arthritis. I won't have to worry about my weight or if an outfit I'm wearing makes my behind look big or if my hair is having a good or bad day. No allergies, no constipation, no cavities, no zits, nothing sags, no wrinkles, no worries, no depression, no hurt, no anger, no despair.
Oh God, it can't come too fast!
But until then, until the time when I can have all of the wonderful things You've promised, I'll continue to live life to the fullest here. I'll make sure people know that even though this body may be failing, this spirit You've given me, this love of life, this mind and heart, are all alive and well.
And not nearly grown up yet.
Romans 8:23
And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering. We, too, wait with eager hope for the day when God will give us our full rights as his adopted children, including the new bodies he has promised us. (NLT)
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Opportunity Knocked
And I wasn't home. As a matter of fact, I wasn't even close to home.
Tell me if this has ever happened to you....
I work in the midtown area of a large city for a well known nonprofit agency. Although our business is helping people, we are urged to use caution when we are alone and approach those who may need help. This is the only wise thing to do, but it tends to blind us at times to those who are in need.
Our building is just down the street from a blood plasma donation center. Low income people frequent this center and sell their blood in order to provide themselves with anything from their next meal to their next drink. The line forms outside early in the morning before the center opens, and dissipates shortly afterward. There are only so many donations taken in a day, so the early comers are taken while the late comers are turned away.
There are also certain spots along my drive to and from work that have become prime locations for those seeking handouts. These men are usually unkempt, in need of shaves and haircuts, and more than likely, showers. Invariably they hold a rough, handwritten cardboard sign. The wording usually takes some form of the following:
Until today.
Today, for some strange reason, I had to take a different route back to work from lunch, one I would never normally take. Standing on a corner was a woman. Not a disheveled woman, but a woman who looked worn out and very overheated. No wonder - the temperatures were in the nineties today at that time. She seemed to be clean and decently dressed in a skirt and top, and she had a backpack laying on the ground beside her.
But she was holding a cardboard sign.
I don't know why, but I wouldn't allow myself to look at her. I pulled up to the stop sign right next to her and acted as if she weren't even there. I refused to even read the sign to see how she might possibly need help, how I might be able to help her, and went on past.
And was immediately convicted.
"This is a CHRISTIAN?" the Holy Spirit said.
"I died for THIS?" Christ sadly shook His head.
"Kid, you blew it," the Father sighed.
"I know. I blew it. I'm sorry. Please forgive me....Look, here's a Sonic Drive-In. I'll make amends and get her a Coke! That'll make up for it, and then I'll see how I can help, OK?"
Silence from the Great Three.
I drove in, got the Coke, drove out, and drove immediately back to the spot where the lady was. Of course, she was no longer there. Someone else had taken the blessing I was offered and helped the woman in need.
Not all was lost in this endeavor, however. I ended up taking the Coke to a panhandler that sits outside the bank, rain or shine, every day of the week. I'd never spoken to him before. He was one of those people I'd come to ignore on a daily basis. One I treated as a non-person before.
That won't be happening again.
Thank you, God, for opening my eyes to see that we are ALL Your children, regardless of the choices we make or the hardships we face. Soften my heart again for those I need to serve. Provide me the opportunity again to serve someone in Your name, and help me to take advantage of the blessing it is.
Hebrews 13:2
Tell me if this has ever happened to you....
I work in the midtown area of a large city for a well known nonprofit agency. Although our business is helping people, we are urged to use caution when we are alone and approach those who may need help. This is the only wise thing to do, but it tends to blind us at times to those who are in need.
Our building is just down the street from a blood plasma donation center. Low income people frequent this center and sell their blood in order to provide themselves with anything from their next meal to their next drink. The line forms outside early in the morning before the center opens, and dissipates shortly afterward. There are only so many donations taken in a day, so the early comers are taken while the late comers are turned away.
There are also certain spots along my drive to and from work that have become prime locations for those seeking handouts. These men are usually unkempt, in need of shaves and haircuts, and more than likely, showers. Invariably they hold a rough, handwritten cardboard sign. The wording usually takes some form of the following:
PLEASE HELP
HOMELESS VET
THANK YOU
GOD BLESS
The men may change, but the sign never does. My hardened heart had once thought it might be kind just to buy t-shirts to give out with this message imprinted on the front in big block letters, thereby saving them the trouble of having to find a piece of cardboard and magic marker.
Instead, I just stopped "seeing" them.
Instead, I just stopped "seeing" them.
Until today.
Today, for some strange reason, I had to take a different route back to work from lunch, one I would never normally take. Standing on a corner was a woman. Not a disheveled woman, but a woman who looked worn out and very overheated. No wonder - the temperatures were in the nineties today at that time. She seemed to be clean and decently dressed in a skirt and top, and she had a backpack laying on the ground beside her.
But she was holding a cardboard sign.
I don't know why, but I wouldn't allow myself to look at her. I pulled up to the stop sign right next to her and acted as if she weren't even there. I refused to even read the sign to see how she might possibly need help, how I might be able to help her, and went on past.
And was immediately convicted.
"This is a CHRISTIAN?" the Holy Spirit said.
"I died for THIS?" Christ sadly shook His head.
"Kid, you blew it," the Father sighed.
"I know. I blew it. I'm sorry. Please forgive me....Look, here's a Sonic Drive-In. I'll make amends and get her a Coke! That'll make up for it, and then I'll see how I can help, OK?"
Silence from the Great Three.
I drove in, got the Coke, drove out, and drove immediately back to the spot where the lady was. Of course, she was no longer there. Someone else had taken the blessing I was offered and helped the woman in need.
Not all was lost in this endeavor, however. I ended up taking the Coke to a panhandler that sits outside the bank, rain or shine, every day of the week. I'd never spoken to him before. He was one of those people I'd come to ignore on a daily basis. One I treated as a non-person before.
That won't be happening again.
Thank you, God, for opening my eyes to see that we are ALL Your children, regardless of the choices we make or the hardships we face. Soften my heart again for those I need to serve. Provide me the opportunity again to serve someone in Your name, and help me to take advantage of the blessing it is.
Hebrews 13:2
Forget not to show love unto strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. American Standard Version 1901 Info
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Sweet Tomatoes
I will be the first to admit it. I'm an addict. In these parts there's no twelve step program available. I try to score some whenever and wherever I can, many times to the embarrassment of my friends and family. It can get ugly at times, but a person's gotta do what a person's gotta do to get her fix. You see....
I'm hooked on fresh, sweet, home-grown tomatoes.
As long as I can remember my family has had a big garden that covered the back fourth of the yard. Mom has been in charge of the leaf lettuce, radishes, onions, green beans, turnips, peppers, rhubarb, carrots, potatoes, and a myriad of other vegetables since the garden began. But chief among these and most prized of all, are the tomatoes. Big, luscious, juicy, red tomatoes. Tomatoes that you can pick right there in the garden, wipe on your jeans to get most of the dirt off, and bury your face in. Just be sure you're wearing a short-sleeved shirt at the time, because you'll need a free forearm to wipe all that juice away as it runs in rivulets down your face. Lord, there may be better things on this earth, but I am hard pressed to come up with one right now!
Being a person who is trying to watch her weight, I am finding summer a very good time indeed. There's nothing better than fresh corn on the cob, fresh green beans, fresh tomatoes, fresh cucumbers and onions and grilled salmon for dinner. It's paradise!
God may have taken away the Garden of Eden from Adam and Eve, but He does indeed know how to give good gifts to His children. Not just in the form of good things to eat, but more permanent and lasting gifts that we can use throughout our lives. I am continually learning something new from God, whether it be that He can and does provide my daily needs, or that I need to slow down and relish the gifts I have already been given. Gifts of joy, patience, peace, love...these cannot be measured.
However, sometimes it's hard for me to sit back and realize that I've ever been given any gifts at all. Days when I feel pain, days when I feel angry, unloved, unappreciated...those are all days I rarely look up in the sky and say with an earnest heart, "THANK YOU, GOD!" And yet, that's what we as Christians are called to do. Those are the days we need to encourage one another. To lift one another up. To remind one another of the goodness of our God and King.
To share a home-grown tomato.
Psalm 34:8
Taste and see that the LORD is good. Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in him! (NLT)
Hebrews 3:13
But encourage one another day after day, as long as it is {still} called "Today," so that none of you will be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin. New American Standard Bible © 1995 Lockman Foundation
I'm hooked on fresh, sweet, home-grown tomatoes.
As long as I can remember my family has had a big garden that covered the back fourth of the yard. Mom has been in charge of the leaf lettuce, radishes, onions, green beans, turnips, peppers, rhubarb, carrots, potatoes, and a myriad of other vegetables since the garden began. But chief among these and most prized of all, are the tomatoes. Big, luscious, juicy, red tomatoes. Tomatoes that you can pick right there in the garden, wipe on your jeans to get most of the dirt off, and bury your face in. Just be sure you're wearing a short-sleeved shirt at the time, because you'll need a free forearm to wipe all that juice away as it runs in rivulets down your face. Lord, there may be better things on this earth, but I am hard pressed to come up with one right now!
Being a person who is trying to watch her weight, I am finding summer a very good time indeed. There's nothing better than fresh corn on the cob, fresh green beans, fresh tomatoes, fresh cucumbers and onions and grilled salmon for dinner. It's paradise!
God may have taken away the Garden of Eden from Adam and Eve, but He does indeed know how to give good gifts to His children. Not just in the form of good things to eat, but more permanent and lasting gifts that we can use throughout our lives. I am continually learning something new from God, whether it be that He can and does provide my daily needs, or that I need to slow down and relish the gifts I have already been given. Gifts of joy, patience, peace, love...these cannot be measured.
However, sometimes it's hard for me to sit back and realize that I've ever been given any gifts at all. Days when I feel pain, days when I feel angry, unloved, unappreciated...those are all days I rarely look up in the sky and say with an earnest heart, "THANK YOU, GOD!" And yet, that's what we as Christians are called to do. Those are the days we need to encourage one another. To lift one another up. To remind one another of the goodness of our God and King.
To share a home-grown tomato.
Psalm 34:8
Taste and see that the LORD is good. Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in him! (NLT)
Hebrews 3:13
But encourage one another day after day, as long as it is {still} called "Today," so that none of you will be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin. New American Standard Bible © 1995 Lockman Foundation
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Rain Down
Rain. You gotta love it.
Not just the sprinkle-your-head-barely-know-it's-there type, but the good old soak-you-to-the-bone stuff. When I was little I hated rain. It meant we couldn't go outside and play, it made everything wet and muddy, and it was more of a necessary evil than anything else. Something I had to endure more than enjoy. As I got older it made driving dangerous, it splashed on my clothes, and caused more trouble than good.
But then things changed.
I married a man with a totally different perspective on life. When our children were young, rather than keeping them inside during rainstorms, he would have them put on their swimming suits and we'd all go outside to play. Of course, the neighbors looked at us as if we'd lost our minds. But somehow I think the little child inside them wanted to be outside with us, playing in the giant sprinkler God provided just for us.
It's funny how the way you see things can change.
I used to see God as
Grace. Thank you for showing it to us, God. Soak us with it. Rain it down.
Psalm 72:6
May the king's rule be refreshing like spring rain on freshly cut grass, like the showers that water the earth. (NLT)
Not just the sprinkle-your-head-barely-know-it's-there type, but the good old soak-you-to-the-bone stuff. When I was little I hated rain. It meant we couldn't go outside and play, it made everything wet and muddy, and it was more of a necessary evil than anything else. Something I had to endure more than enjoy. As I got older it made driving dangerous, it splashed on my clothes, and caused more trouble than good.
But then things changed.
I married a man with a totally different perspective on life. When our children were young, rather than keeping them inside during rainstorms, he would have them put on their swimming suits and we'd all go outside to play. Of course, the neighbors looked at us as if we'd lost our minds. But somehow I think the little child inside them wanted to be outside with us, playing in the giant sprinkler God provided just for us.
It's funny how the way you see things can change.
I used to see God as
SOMEONE WHO CONDEMNS PEOPLE WHO DON'T DO EXACTLY AS THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO DO AT ALL TIMES.
Now, after learning more about Him, I see Him as a loving, caring Father who wants the best for me. He's not standing over me, waiting for me to fail. He wants nothing more than for me to succeed!
I used to believe
ALL PEOPLE WHO DON'T ATTEND A CERTAIN CHURCH AND WEAR CERTAIN CLOTHES AND SPEAK A CERTAIN WAY AND PRAY A CERTAIN WAY AND BELIEVE JUST EXACTLY THE SAME TO THE SMALLEST DEGREE WILL GO DIRECTLY TO HELL.
I know better now. I know that God can take a Methodist, a Baptist, a Presbyterian, a Catholic... the list goes on ... and bring them all together through one common element; Jesus Christ. That's all that matters in the end. And we all have to depend on the grace of God to fill in the blanks for what we have misinterpreted or just plain don't understand when all is said and done.
Grace. Thank you for showing it to us, God. Soak us with it. Rain it down.
Psalm 72:6
May the king's rule be refreshing like spring rain on freshly cut grass, like the showers that water the earth. (NLT)
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Beauty and the Beast
Most of the days at this time of my life are honey and cream.
Not that I particularly like that combination of tastes, but that's supposed to mean the days are sweet and they flow right along, one after another. What's good about those kind of days is they ARE sweet. What's bad about those kind of days is that I have to have a vinegar and sour milk day every so often in order to be able to appreciate them on a consistent basis. Yesterday was one of those days. But today....today the bees are buzzing and the the cream is floating to the top once again.
I have an aunt that has been instrumental in helping me to see the beauty, not only in life, but in people. I visit her once or twice a year for a few days at a time and have for many years. She's a strong Christian and someone I've been able to talk to about any and everything. She's never judged or condemned me; just listened. When I tell her how mean or hateful someone's been to me, she is always there to present the side I might not have considered. Did he have a good marriage? Was she lonely? Where could they be hurting, and why might they be taking it out on me? From her guidance I've learned there are always reasons why people act the way they do if we look hard enough to find them. There's always a cause for the beast in us to emerge.
I also learned another thing from her. She's lived in the hills all her life, yet never once takes the beauty around her for granted. It doesn't matter what season it is, what type of wildlife it is, or what the weather is like. She appreciates it all. There is no greater pleasure for me than to go on a drive with her in the passenger seat, pointing out all the wonders along the way. It could be something as simple as a cloud formation or as dramatic as a nest of bald eagles...she notices it all and thanks God for each thing. From the greening of the hills against the azure sky to the way a flock of wild turkeys runs across a field, nothing escapes her eye or her appreciation.
This attribute has worked its way into my life as well. My honey and cream days are filled to overflowing with gratefulness. My kids are even reaping the rewards of it. Sunsets are a favorite of ours, as are clouds. There aren't many hills around here, and wildlife is almost nonexistent, but we are thankful for the gifts God has given us in abundance...including each other.
Now, will someone please pass the honey and cream?
Psalm 8
For the choir director: A psalm of David, to be accompanied by a stringed instrument.
1 O LORD, our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth! Your glory is higher than the heavens.
2 You have taught children and infants to tell of your strength, silencing your enemies and all who oppose you.
3 When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers— the moon and the stars you set in place—
4 what are people that you should think about them, mere mortals that you should care for them?
5 Yet you made them only a little lower than God and crowned them with glory and honor.
6 You gave them charge of everything you made, putting all things under their authority—
7 the flocks and the herds and all the wild animals,
8 the birds in the sky, the fish in the sea, and everything that swims the ocean currents.
9 O LORD, our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth! (NLT)
Not that I particularly like that combination of tastes, but that's supposed to mean the days are sweet and they flow right along, one after another. What's good about those kind of days is they ARE sweet. What's bad about those kind of days is that I have to have a vinegar and sour milk day every so often in order to be able to appreciate them on a consistent basis. Yesterday was one of those days. But today....today the bees are buzzing and the the cream is floating to the top once again.
I have an aunt that has been instrumental in helping me to see the beauty, not only in life, but in people. I visit her once or twice a year for a few days at a time and have for many years. She's a strong Christian and someone I've been able to talk to about any and everything. She's never judged or condemned me; just listened. When I tell her how mean or hateful someone's been to me, she is always there to present the side I might not have considered. Did he have a good marriage? Was she lonely? Where could they be hurting, and why might they be taking it out on me? From her guidance I've learned there are always reasons why people act the way they do if we look hard enough to find them. There's always a cause for the beast in us to emerge.
I also learned another thing from her. She's lived in the hills all her life, yet never once takes the beauty around her for granted. It doesn't matter what season it is, what type of wildlife it is, or what the weather is like. She appreciates it all. There is no greater pleasure for me than to go on a drive with her in the passenger seat, pointing out all the wonders along the way. It could be something as simple as a cloud formation or as dramatic as a nest of bald eagles...she notices it all and thanks God for each thing. From the greening of the hills against the azure sky to the way a flock of wild turkeys runs across a field, nothing escapes her eye or her appreciation.
This attribute has worked its way into my life as well. My honey and cream days are filled to overflowing with gratefulness. My kids are even reaping the rewards of it. Sunsets are a favorite of ours, as are clouds. There aren't many hills around here, and wildlife is almost nonexistent, but we are thankful for the gifts God has given us in abundance...including each other.
Now, will someone please pass the honey and cream?
Psalm 8
For the choir director: A psalm of David, to be accompanied by a stringed instrument.
1 O LORD, our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth! Your glory is higher than the heavens.
2 You have taught children and infants to tell of your strength, silencing your enemies and all who oppose you.
3 When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers— the moon and the stars you set in place—
4 what are people that you should think about them, mere mortals that you should care for them?
5 Yet you made them only a little lower than God and crowned them with glory and honor.
6 You gave them charge of everything you made, putting all things under their authority—
7 the flocks and the herds and all the wild animals,
8 the birds in the sky, the fish in the sea, and everything that swims the ocean currents.
9 O LORD, our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth! (NLT)
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Alone, but Never Lonely
Time alone has always been important to me.
I've always been one to enjoy being by myself. As a child I'd spend hours playing by the creek or riding my bike, or with my nose stuck in a book under the shade of a backyard tree. As a grownup, one of my dreams has always been to have a small cabin somewhere in the woods. Nothing fancy. Just a place to eat and sleep with a nice porch swing (and preferably indoor plumbing). I came close at one point. My father owned a cabin in a small historic town about two hours from here. Although it was in the middle of town, if I tried hard enough I could imagine it was deep in the middle of the woods when I stayed there by myself on retreats.
Unfortunately, when that cabin was sold a year or so ago, it left me with no place to hang my hat of solitude. The closest I've been able to come to recreating that time is one afternoon spent on a generous friend's backyard deck while she was out of town. Yes, it was sorely needed. God and I had a lot of catching up to do. No, it wasn't nearly enough. Not nearly enough.
I recently attended a Quaker service with my nephew. Having never been to a Meeting before, I didn't know what to expect. What I experienced was complete communion with God, uninterrupted and pure. One full hour of doing nothing but listening for and to the Holy Spirit speak, silent prayer, and silent praise. While I may not agree with all of the premises of the Quaker faith, I think I could easily drown in this for an hour a week and come up smiling.
Still, it's not enough. I need TIME, all in one fell swoop, not in bits and pieces here and there. God, do you think you could work that out for me? You alone know my every need....
Psalm 42:1 - 2
As the deer longs for streams of water, so I long for you, O God. I thirst for God, the living God. When can I go and stand before him? (NLT)
I've always been one to enjoy being by myself. As a child I'd spend hours playing by the creek or riding my bike, or with my nose stuck in a book under the shade of a backyard tree. As a grownup, one of my dreams has always been to have a small cabin somewhere in the woods. Nothing fancy. Just a place to eat and sleep with a nice porch swing (and preferably indoor plumbing). I came close at one point. My father owned a cabin in a small historic town about two hours from here. Although it was in the middle of town, if I tried hard enough I could imagine it was deep in the middle of the woods when I stayed there by myself on retreats.
Unfortunately, when that cabin was sold a year or so ago, it left me with no place to hang my hat of solitude. The closest I've been able to come to recreating that time is one afternoon spent on a generous friend's backyard deck while she was out of town. Yes, it was sorely needed. God and I had a lot of catching up to do. No, it wasn't nearly enough. Not nearly enough.
I recently attended a Quaker service with my nephew. Having never been to a Meeting before, I didn't know what to expect. What I experienced was complete communion with God, uninterrupted and pure. One full hour of doing nothing but listening for and to the Holy Spirit speak, silent prayer, and silent praise. While I may not agree with all of the premises of the Quaker faith, I think I could easily drown in this for an hour a week and come up smiling.
Still, it's not enough. I need TIME, all in one fell swoop, not in bits and pieces here and there. God, do you think you could work that out for me? You alone know my every need....
Psalm 42:1 - 2
As the deer longs for streams of water, so I long for you, O God. I thirst for God, the living God. When can I go and stand before him? (NLT)
Monday, July 10, 2006
Shut Up and LISTEN
For an extrovert like me, there is nothing better than to be asked to speak before a group of people. Throw God into the mix and it becomes just about perfect.
One of my favorite talks goes something like this:
I begin by handing out envelopes with different scripts inside to people as they enter. What makes this fun is if I know the people personally and I have written the script just for them. After everyone has been seated and we've sung a few worship songs, I begin by asking the people with the envelopes to open them, stand and read the script aloud, one by one.
"I cannot BELIEVE she said that about me. I am just FURIOUS. How on earth could she think I have my nails done there? That is obviously not a quality nail salon and I am...."
"...so if I can get out of here in time, I should be able to get to Target by 11 and Chili's by 11:45. Maybe I can beat the crowd and get a halfway decent table......"
"It's gonna be one-hundred-stinkin'-forty-two degrees today, and I have no air conditioning in the car! Why on earth would it choose today of all days to go out on me?? What a great sense of humor you have, God!"
"B-O-R-I-N-G. Why do I come to devotions, anyway? It's always so dumb. These speakers could put someone who was hyperactive to sleep in no time."
After all of the scripts have been read (usually about 15), I then give a very short talk about spending time alone with God, clearing our minds and hearts - listening for His voice and what He wants to say. Then I have everyone read their scripts aloud at the same time while I read the scripture below.
Then I ask everyone what the scripture I just read had to say to them.
For some reason, it never fails to make an impact.
It's awfully hard for God to talk to you if you fill your mind with other things. Whether spoken or unspoken, if your mind is busy with thoughts other than what God wants to say to you when you've devoted that time to Him, you're not only cheating God, but yourself...in a big way.
So what does God have to do or use to get YOU to listen? 2 X 4? Sledgehammer? What's YOUR script?
Psalm 46:10
"Be still, and know that I am God! I will be honored by every nation. I will be honored throughout the world." (NLT)
One of my favorite talks goes something like this:
I begin by handing out envelopes with different scripts inside to people as they enter. What makes this fun is if I know the people personally and I have written the script just for them. After everyone has been seated and we've sung a few worship songs, I begin by asking the people with the envelopes to open them, stand and read the script aloud, one by one.
"I cannot BELIEVE she said that about me. I am just FURIOUS. How on earth could she think I have my nails done there? That is obviously not a quality nail salon and I am...."
"...so if I can get out of here in time, I should be able to get to Target by 11 and Chili's by 11:45. Maybe I can beat the crowd and get a halfway decent table......"
"It's gonna be one-hundred-stinkin'-forty-two degrees today, and I have no air conditioning in the car! Why on earth would it choose today of all days to go out on me?? What a great sense of humor you have, God!"
"B-O-R-I-N-G. Why do I come to devotions, anyway? It's always so dumb. These speakers could put someone who was hyperactive to sleep in no time."
After all of the scripts have been read (usually about 15), I then give a very short talk about spending time alone with God, clearing our minds and hearts - listening for His voice and what He wants to say. Then I have everyone read their scripts aloud at the same time while I read the scripture below.
Then I ask everyone what the scripture I just read had to say to them.
For some reason, it never fails to make an impact.
It's awfully hard for God to talk to you if you fill your mind with other things. Whether spoken or unspoken, if your mind is busy with thoughts other than what God wants to say to you when you've devoted that time to Him, you're not only cheating God, but yourself...in a big way.
So what does God have to do or use to get YOU to listen? 2 X 4? Sledgehammer? What's YOUR script?
Psalm 46:10
"Be still, and know that I am God! I will be honored by every nation. I will be honored throughout the world." (NLT)
Sunday, July 09, 2006
The Evil Twin
I live a double life.
No, I'm not a spy. I'm not a body double for a famous actress. Would that I was!
My terrible secret is this......I have an Evil Twin.
To meet me on the street you'd never know it. I seem like the consummate wholesome-but-a-little-to-the-left-of-June-Cleaver type. I have a nice job at a nice place where people like me and have nicknamed me "Mom." I treat people well and care about them. I attend a nice church and love the nice people I minister with.
But all of that is outside of my home.
Home is supposed to be a place you come when you need a place of solace. It's where you go when you need love and affirmation. Parents are always understanding and kind, ready with a listening ear and a sage word of advice. Children are ready and willing to help at a moment's notice, and show the utmost respect, admiration and love toward their parents. All physical needs are met in abundance. You can pick up clean clothes and a hot meal any time, day or night, and sleep in a warm bed between freshly laundered sheets. Home has no clutter or disorganization, no dirty dishes or dust. The yard is always mowed, the bushes are always trimmed. That's what makes it HOME.
Unless you live at my house.
The Evil Twin lives there. Painful as it is to report, my house does not contain many of these attributes. The clean clothes my family wears are usually dug out of a laundry basket or taken off of the clothes rack next to the dryer. Clean sheets are at a premium, and Mount Washmore is a standing joke in our garage. Clutter is something we've come to live with and accept as a part of daily life throughout the years. If it isn't dusty, you can bet on one of two things: company's coming, or it doesn't live in our house.
The sad part of all of this is that my children have learned to live this way. This is NORMAL LIFE for them. But that's not the worst of it. We don't have friends over. We don't have parties, we don't have meetings in our house. I'm ashamed to call our house a home.
I was brought up by a dyed-in-the-wool-perfectionistic-take-a-toothbrush-to-the-bathroom-tile-every-Saturday-morning-cleanaholic mother. I KNOW better. And every so often I really do try to DO better. I get on my bandwagon and go through great cleaning sweeps equal to the Crusades. Cobwebs are banished, floors are mopped, sheets are changed, vacuuming is done, clutter is ousted, organizing is accomplished, dirt is vanquished and meals are prepared in advance.
And then I collapse in a heap for the next six months.
I've also tried enlisting the help of the family with the Crusades. This results in great wars amongst the troops. They complain "But no one's coming over!" I get angry, they get angry, all of God's chilluns get angry. It's easier just to do it myself. I've tried coming home from work and asking them to do one thing....just one thing...when I walk in the door. Know what I get?
"Oh great...Mom's in a bad mood again." Don't they know it's the Evil Twin and not really ME?
A woman can only take so much.
I've tried a reward system. I've tried paying them. I've tried punishing them. I've tried enlisting the help and support of their father. We won't even go there. I've even gone so far as to see a counselor. End result?
It's my problem and I have to deal with it.
So here's how I'm dealing with it. The best and only way I know how. www.flylady.net will have me back as a subscriber as of today. I may be able to do all things through Christ who strengthens me, but I sure can't do this alone.
That Evil Twin's gotta go.
Philippians 3:13 - 14
No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved it, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us. (NLT)
No, I'm not a spy. I'm not a body double for a famous actress. Would that I was!
My terrible secret is this......I have an Evil Twin.
To meet me on the street you'd never know it. I seem like the consummate wholesome-but-a-little-to-the-left-of-June-Cleaver type. I have a nice job at a nice place where people like me and have nicknamed me "Mom." I treat people well and care about them. I attend a nice church and love the nice people I minister with.
But all of that is outside of my home.
Home is supposed to be a place you come when you need a place of solace. It's where you go when you need love and affirmation. Parents are always understanding and kind, ready with a listening ear and a sage word of advice. Children are ready and willing to help at a moment's notice, and show the utmost respect, admiration and love toward their parents. All physical needs are met in abundance. You can pick up clean clothes and a hot meal any time, day or night, and sleep in a warm bed between freshly laundered sheets. Home has no clutter or disorganization, no dirty dishes or dust. The yard is always mowed, the bushes are always trimmed. That's what makes it HOME.
Unless you live at my house.
The Evil Twin lives there. Painful as it is to report, my house does not contain many of these attributes. The clean clothes my family wears are usually dug out of a laundry basket or taken off of the clothes rack next to the dryer. Clean sheets are at a premium, and Mount Washmore is a standing joke in our garage. Clutter is something we've come to live with and accept as a part of daily life throughout the years. If it isn't dusty, you can bet on one of two things: company's coming, or it doesn't live in our house.
The sad part of all of this is that my children have learned to live this way. This is NORMAL LIFE for them. But that's not the worst of it. We don't have friends over. We don't have parties, we don't have meetings in our house. I'm ashamed to call our house a home.
I was brought up by a dyed-in-the-wool-perfectionistic-take-a-toothbrush-to-the-bathroom-tile-every-Saturday-morning-cleanaholic mother. I KNOW better. And every so often I really do try to DO better. I get on my bandwagon and go through great cleaning sweeps equal to the Crusades. Cobwebs are banished, floors are mopped, sheets are changed, vacuuming is done, clutter is ousted, organizing is accomplished, dirt is vanquished and meals are prepared in advance.
And then I collapse in a heap for the next six months.
I've also tried enlisting the help of the family with the Crusades. This results in great wars amongst the troops. They complain "But no one's coming over!" I get angry, they get angry, all of God's chilluns get angry. It's easier just to do it myself. I've tried coming home from work and asking them to do one thing....just one thing...when I walk in the door. Know what I get?
"Oh great...Mom's in a bad mood again." Don't they know it's the Evil Twin and not really ME?
A woman can only take so much.
I've tried a reward system. I've tried paying them. I've tried punishing them. I've tried enlisting the help and support of their father. We won't even go there. I've even gone so far as to see a counselor. End result?
It's my problem and I have to deal with it.
So here's how I'm dealing with it. The best and only way I know how. www.flylady.net will have me back as a subscriber as of today. I may be able to do all things through Christ who strengthens me, but I sure can't do this alone.
That Evil Twin's gotta go.
Philippians 3:13 - 14
No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved it, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us. (NLT)
Saturday, July 08, 2006
A Rebel Just Because
I hate to be told I have to do something.
It doesn't matter who it comes from. Mom, boss, pastor, friend....makes no difference to me. The surest way to get me NOT to do something is to tell me I have to do it. That rebellious two-year-old inside me has just never grown up. She keeps on throwing those tantrums every single time she's told she has to do something, and her tirade is always the same..."I DON'T WANT TO AND YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!!!"
In January I joined a weight loss group. Did I do it willingly? See above. The only reason I went to more than one meeting was that one of the other participants told me I could back out after six weeks if it didn't work out for me. Somehow that put the control factor back in my court, and the little brat was silenced for the time being. But not for long. After losing almost forty pounds, I hit a plateau. Although I followed the plan strictly, I could not lose any more weight. Why? Because I would not exercise. And why? Because I was told I must in order to lose...another opportunity for Little Miss to rear her ugly head.
This kid is really starting to get on my nerves.
She affects my life in all areas. Home, work, sleep, family time, time with God and time alone. No matter how much I want to do the right thing, her ugliness intrudes. So what do I do?
I give her up.
Call it Tough Love. Call it being fed up. Whatever it is, it's a hard choice. She's been around for so long that it feels like I'm losing a part of me.
The worst part.
This week I started taking the stairs at work. Today the kids and I walked a mile and a half round trip to Starbucks and back, enjoying some family time, beverages, and exercise. The flowerbeds were weeded, and laundry was done.
I'm sure she'll make an appearance from time to time, but for now she's sitting meekly in the corner. If I can ignore her long enough, perhaps she'll just fade away.......
Romans 7:15 - 17
I don't really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don't do it. Instead, I do what I hate. But if I know that what I am doing is wrong, this shows that I agree that the law is good. So I am not the one doing wrong; it is sin living in me that does it. (NLT)
It doesn't matter who it comes from. Mom, boss, pastor, friend....makes no difference to me. The surest way to get me NOT to do something is to tell me I have to do it. That rebellious two-year-old inside me has just never grown up. She keeps on throwing those tantrums every single time she's told she has to do something, and her tirade is always the same..."I DON'T WANT TO AND YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!!!"
In January I joined a weight loss group. Did I do it willingly? See above. The only reason I went to more than one meeting was that one of the other participants told me I could back out after six weeks if it didn't work out for me. Somehow that put the control factor back in my court, and the little brat was silenced for the time being. But not for long. After losing almost forty pounds, I hit a plateau. Although I followed the plan strictly, I could not lose any more weight. Why? Because I would not exercise. And why? Because I was told I must in order to lose...another opportunity for Little Miss to rear her ugly head.
This kid is really starting to get on my nerves.
She affects my life in all areas. Home, work, sleep, family time, time with God and time alone. No matter how much I want to do the right thing, her ugliness intrudes. So what do I do?
I give her up.
Call it Tough Love. Call it being fed up. Whatever it is, it's a hard choice. She's been around for so long that it feels like I'm losing a part of me.
The worst part.
This week I started taking the stairs at work. Today the kids and I walked a mile and a half round trip to Starbucks and back, enjoying some family time, beverages, and exercise. The flowerbeds were weeded, and laundry was done.
I'm sure she'll make an appearance from time to time, but for now she's sitting meekly in the corner. If I can ignore her long enough, perhaps she'll just fade away.......
Romans 7:15 - 17
I don't really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don't do it. Instead, I do what I hate. But if I know that what I am doing is wrong, this shows that I agree that the law is good. So I am not the one doing wrong; it is sin living in me that does it. (NLT)
Friday, July 07, 2006
The Last Straw
I love to shop. Always have, always will.
That doesn't mean I love to buy things. Exactly the opposite. I just love seeing the things there are for sale, hunting down the bargains, seeing who has the best product available for the best price and who will give me the best service for the price offered. I can spend hours in Wal-Mart and be thoroughly entertained without spending a dime. Consider me easily amused, or consider me a cheap date.
That's one reason I became a secret shopper. Not only for the extra cash, which I will admit comes in handy, but for other reasons as well. I like to catch people in the act of doing good things for others. Customer service is no better place. If an employee will treat a customer well without knowing he's being evaluated, he's someone you want to encourage. I recently had the opportunity to do just that.
A local drive-in chain contracted shoppers to come in, purchase a specific type of drink and look for specific criteria. If the criteria was met, the shopper was to notify the manager his or her store had done a good job, and a prize package was awarded. I love to give out prizes to deserving people. It makes my day! On the shops I did, however, I was unable to drink the beverage I had to order since it contained sugar...a big no-no on the list of forbidden foods for this gal. Instead of drinking it, I'd leave it on the stand next to my car or take it in with me when I went in to speak with the manager. Because of this I tended to come up with quite a collection of straws that sat unused on my console.
Never being one to waste, I decided to save the straws. I mean hey, you never know when a straw will come in handy, right? Of course, some people may call this packrat-itis. I prefer to call it recycling. Sure enough, the very next day I needed a straw...and the day after that...until all the straws were used!
Now, either God has just a really weird sense of humor (and I would never put it past Him), or He knew before I did what my SMALLEST need would be - even before it happened. Not only that, but He PROVIDED for it. And as an added bonus, the straws were even the same color and almost the same size. Go figure.
I think you can tell where I'm going with this.
I worry a lot about money. Where it's coming from to pay what bill and when. How we're going to afford college for the final two kids. If we can afford to buy groceries this week or if we have to hope Mom will invite us over for dinner. How we're going to survive when we're old and gray.
But get this.
If God can provide a straw.....well, you can fill in the rest.
Matthew 6:30
And if God cares so wonderfully for wildflowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith? (NLT)
That doesn't mean I love to buy things. Exactly the opposite. I just love seeing the things there are for sale, hunting down the bargains, seeing who has the best product available for the best price and who will give me the best service for the price offered. I can spend hours in Wal-Mart and be thoroughly entertained without spending a dime. Consider me easily amused, or consider me a cheap date.
That's one reason I became a secret shopper. Not only for the extra cash, which I will admit comes in handy, but for other reasons as well. I like to catch people in the act of doing good things for others. Customer service is no better place. If an employee will treat a customer well without knowing he's being evaluated, he's someone you want to encourage. I recently had the opportunity to do just that.
A local drive-in chain contracted shoppers to come in, purchase a specific type of drink and look for specific criteria. If the criteria was met, the shopper was to notify the manager his or her store had done a good job, and a prize package was awarded. I love to give out prizes to deserving people. It makes my day! On the shops I did, however, I was unable to drink the beverage I had to order since it contained sugar...a big no-no on the list of forbidden foods for this gal. Instead of drinking it, I'd leave it on the stand next to my car or take it in with me when I went in to speak with the manager. Because of this I tended to come up with quite a collection of straws that sat unused on my console.
Never being one to waste, I decided to save the straws. I mean hey, you never know when a straw will come in handy, right? Of course, some people may call this packrat-itis. I prefer to call it recycling. Sure enough, the very next day I needed a straw...and the day after that...until all the straws were used!
Now, either God has just a really weird sense of humor (and I would never put it past Him), or He knew before I did what my SMALLEST need would be - even before it happened. Not only that, but He PROVIDED for it. And as an added bonus, the straws were even the same color and almost the same size. Go figure.
I think you can tell where I'm going with this.
I worry a lot about money. Where it's coming from to pay what bill and when. How we're going to afford college for the final two kids. If we can afford to buy groceries this week or if we have to hope Mom will invite us over for dinner. How we're going to survive when we're old and gray.
But get this.
If God can provide a straw.....well, you can fill in the rest.
Matthew 6:30
And if God cares so wonderfully for wildflowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith? (NLT)
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Unfinished
Unfinished.
Somehow I've always felt that way.
And as I near my half-century mark, the time when I should be finishing some things, the time when I should be coming to the end of other things...
I'm still unfinished.
Take my fashion sense, or lack of it. God has liberally gifted others with the ability to throw together the perfect outfit with absolutely no effort whatsoever. Not so for this frumpy female of almost fifty. With my short stature and ample hips, finding anything at all to fit is a challenge; finding clothing that actually looks good is no less than a minor miracle.
God has a great sense of humor.
That may be one reason He continues shaping this unfinished soul of mine. Not only to eventually benefit me, but to show others that if he can take a worthless lump of clay like me and transform it into something worthwhile - something He can use - there is actually hope for mankind as we know it.
And so I continue to be unfinished, waiting for His next touch...His next push...His next tweak, to form me into more of what He wants me to be. How long will it continue? Hopefully until the end of time. Because as long as I am His Unfinished Work, I know He is working in and through me to make me what He wants me to be.
Come and join me on my journey!
Philippians 1:6
And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns. (NLT)
Somehow I've always felt that way.
And as I near my half-century mark, the time when I should be finishing some things, the time when I should be coming to the end of other things...
I'm still unfinished.
Take my fashion sense, or lack of it. God has liberally gifted others with the ability to throw together the perfect outfit with absolutely no effort whatsoever. Not so for this frumpy female of almost fifty. With my short stature and ample hips, finding anything at all to fit is a challenge; finding clothing that actually looks good is no less than a minor miracle.
God has a great sense of humor.
That may be one reason He continues shaping this unfinished soul of mine. Not only to eventually benefit me, but to show others that if he can take a worthless lump of clay like me and transform it into something worthwhile - something He can use - there is actually hope for mankind as we know it.
And so I continue to be unfinished, waiting for His next touch...His next push...His next tweak, to form me into more of what He wants me to be. How long will it continue? Hopefully until the end of time. Because as long as I am His Unfinished Work, I know He is working in and through me to make me what He wants me to be.
Come and join me on my journey!
Philippians 1:6
And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns. (NLT)
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