Simple Stories Timeless Truths

No Other Can Save

2011-07-28T21:28:00.003-04:00

“for no other god can save in this way.”
Daniel 3:29b (NIV)

The story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, captive young Israelites who dared to defy King Nebuchadnezzar by refusing to worship his golden idol, ends with a very exciting conclusion. After being bound and thrown into a fiery furnace for disobeying the king, our three friends are seen by an amazed Nebuchadnezzar walking around unbound in the fire, along with a fourth friend. The king calls them out of the fire. Everyone saw that not only were these young men unharmed, but they had no smell of smoke on them. The king declared that no one would be allowed to speak against the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. Nebuchadnezzar was amazed not only by their devotion in the face of horrific consequences, but in their God’s ability to save them.

It is amazing to think that three young men, captives living in a foreign land, were able to make such a deep impression on the pagan king. Their stand of obedience and devotion to God in the midst of severe trials caused Nebuchadnezzar to declare the ability of God to save. So therein lies the question for me.

Some days, life is hard. Sometimes, I struggle with doubt when things are not going according to my plan. But if a pagan king can declare God’s unique ability to save, what business do I, a child of God who has seen His mighty power in my life, have ever doubting that God will provide deliverance?

How about you? Where can you, along with Nebuchadnezzar, declare aloud your belief today in God’s ability to save you in whatever area you need deliverance?

No God can save like ours.

Able

2011-07-19T10:11:00.004-04:00

If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and
He will deliver us out of your hand, O king.
Daniel 3: 17 (ESV)

Daniel, chapter 3, contains the exciting story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, three young men who had been taken captive from their native Israel to serve the king of Babylon, Nebuchadnezzar. The king had built a golden idol and required everyone in the land to bow and worship his idol, but our young friends refused to obey. When Nebuchadnezzar furiously demanded a change in their behavior and threatened to throw them in a fiery furnace if they disobeyed, the men responded that they did not need to answer to the king. Our young friends went on to address the king in our verse above by telling him that their God was able to deliver them.

How many things in our lives would be different if we could simply absorb and confidently state this truth during our struggles?

Unemployment or underemployment in a tough economy? Our God is able.

Illness of a loved one or ourselves? Our God is able.

Heartbroken, lonely or sad? Our God is able.

Struggles with our children? Our God is able.

Frustrations of daily life? Our God is able.

Life can be difficult and challenging. Though there are often no easy answers to our struggles, how awesome is the truth that our God is able?

Where is your heart and mind struggling today? Ask God and He will help you rest your trust in His abilities today. He is able.

No Need to Answer

2011-07-12T14:58:00.004-04:00

Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego answered and said to the king,
“O Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to answer you in this matter.”
Daniel 3:16 (ESV)

Have you ever felt out of your element and/or under the gun? I wonder if that is how Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego felt in our verse today. Young men of Israel who had been taken captive and brought to the homeland of a pagan king, these individuals were being asked to bow down and worship an idol. When the king discovered they were disobeying his order, he raged and asked them who was going to deliver them from his hands. Our verse today was their reply.

What was the cause for such bravery? Nebuchadnezzar (the pagan king) was known for his fiery temper and extreme consequences for those who disobeyed his orders. (Daniel 1:10; 2:5; 2:13) The young men had been warned that refusal to worship the idol would mean being thrown into a fiery furnace. They had good reason to be afraid. As we look closer, we see that their bravery was not based on guarantees of their safety, but belief in their God. They would give their allegiance to no one but Him. He was the only one to whom they had to answer.

What a powerful response. How much I want to follow their example. Though I have never faced a pagan king or the threat of a fiery furnace, situations do arise in my daily life which call me to be brave. At these times, the only safe haven of confidence I have is knowing the power of the God I serve. My fears may taunt me, but I have no obligation to answer them.

What about you today? Are there fears in your heart and mind that seem to be demanding a response from you? Why not take some words from our young friends and tell your fears that you have no need to answer them? Your God is able.

Sassy Struggles

2011-06-28T15:46:00.005-04:00

“And who is the god who will deliver you out of my hands?”
Daniel 3:15b (ESV)

The story of Daniel’s three friends, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego has always been one that intrigued me. Imagine being separated far from your families and culture, finding yourself in a strange place you never imagined you would be, and having to learn new ways to live out your life. Isn't that a difficult concept to wrap your brain around? For military wives and others living overseas, it is part of their every day life.

When asked to bow down to a statue of Nebuchadnezzar, the ruler of Babylon, these brave men simply said, “No. We worship God alone.” While I will probably never be physically dragged in front of a gold statue and asked to kneel, I do face daily struggles in my life. And sometimes, these struggles get just as sassy as Nebuchadnezzar and begin to taunt me.

“Things are not going to come together this time.”

“Neither you nor your family will survive this season of struggle.”

“No one is going to deliver you.”

Here is the good news. My sassy struggles do not have the ultimate power over me. The United States military does not have the ultimate power over me. My husband’s next assignment or deployment does not have the ultimate power over me. None of these things have any more power over me than Nebuchadnezzar had over Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. Sure, they can create a lot of smoke and drama. But ultimately, I don’t have to listen to their sass because they have no ability to stand against my God. My Father has the ultimate power over me.

Begin fully persuaded that God had power to do what He had promised.
Romans 4:21 (NIV)

So which of your struggles is giving you some sass today? Remind yourself and that struggle that God has the power. :)

But

2011-05-06T13:32:00.005-04:00

I have been blessed with a wonderful mother-in-law. Through the years we have had glorious times laughing with and at each other. Like the time we decided to perm each other’s hair and instead of adding relaxer in the final step, my mother-in-law put more permanent solution in my hair. True story. Ridiculous hair, but really good times.

Known as Deedah to our family, she has always been great about allowing us to tease her. One of our favorite things to tease her about was giving advice to us. You always knew when you were going to get advice from Deedah. She would preference her words by saying, “Now I don’t want to be bossy but . . . . “ These words would always be followed by ideas about which she totally wanted to be bossy – or at least heard.

Sometimes, God says “but” when talking to his children also. However, when God says “but,” it tends to have totally different implications than giving advice.

"I am going to bring floodwaters on the earth to destroy all life under the heavens, every creature that has the breath of life in it. Everything on the earth will perish.
But I will establish my covenant with you, and you will enter the ark-you and your sons and your wife and your sons’ wives with you."
Genesis 6:17-18 (NIV)

God is talking to Noah about building the ark in this passage. He is warning Noah that everything on the earth will perish. But, in the midst of this everything proclamation, God lets Noah know what he is willing to do for him and his family.

Many of us, like my Deedah, tend to use “but” to say we did not really mean what we said in the first place. When God says “but,” it tends to be His deliverance of a totally new option. God tends to deal with us in His ability to reverse our situation. You deserve _____________ or you could be experiencing _______________, “but,” says God. Suddenly a situation that seemed poised to be a negative for us is changed. Because of His grace, His totally unmerited favor in our lives, God steps in and takes what was meant to be a negative and turns it into a positive.

Today, I want to remember and think about the times God has said “but” in my life. Times when the world or my circumstances pointed to a negative, or maybe even horrific, outcome, but God stepped in to deliver another option. I want to tune my ears to hear what He has to say when it appears that things in my life are going downhill. How about you? Does God have a “but” coming just around the corner that you need to hear? Why not ask Him today?

Jigglypuff and the President

2011-03-18T10:41:00.008-04:00

Every year at Halloween, our church hosted a community fall festival event. Children dressed in costumes and came with their families to play games, chase greased pigs, and eat candy and junk food. Since this particular October fell a few days before a presidential election, some elected officials were scheduled to stop by and speak briefly to the crowds.

The event was a fairly large-scaled one. It was tough for us and our friends to keep track of our kids. When the officials were getting ready to speak, the children were asked to huddle in the front of the crowd. Being as short as Zaccheus must have been, the large crowd on flat ground meant there was no way I could see my daughter or her friends. So as my husband and our friends kept guard around the back of the crowd, I circled up to a nearby hill and kept watch on the kids from a higher level.

The main speaker of the evening was former President George Bush. After several officials spoke and shared their message, the president stepped to the podium. During his speech, he addressed the children in their different costumes, mentioning several of the characters they represented. Our daughter, dressed as a round, pink Pokémon character named Jigglypuff, began yelling “Jigglypuff”, hoping the president would call her character’s name. Much to our surprise, the President stopped his speech, acknowledged Jigglypuff and invited her to join him on stage. As I looked on, my daughter was shuffled by Secret Service agents until she stood onstage between Barbara Bush and the mayor of Orlando.

When the President finished his speech, he turned, bowed and began to have a conversation with our daughter. As I watched from my perch, unable to coach or give any quick lessons about how to properly address the President of the United States, Mr. Bush turned to the microphone and asked for everyone’s attention again. He then picked Libby up in his arms and held her up to the microphone while she sang a song about Jigglypuff. Yes, our six year old actually asked a former President of the United States to pick her up so she could sing a song. Trust me, Zaccheus was falling out of her tree.

As a six year old, our daughter had basically no fear. She seemed to feel everyone was equally accessible and did not hesitate to ask much of anything from much of anyone. Her life verse in those days could have been:

Yet you do not have because you do not ask. James 4:2b (NKJV)

While her encounter with the President was both thrilling and unnerving for me as a parent, I have to admit I loved her spirit in the whole event.

I have a Father in heaven that has both made me and bought me. And He has called me to ask Him for what I need.

Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.
Matthew 7:7 (NIV)

My problem is that too often I find excuses to keep my needs to myself or share them in sad tales to my friends and family who truly have no power (outside of prayer, of course) to do anything for me but graciously listen. Too often, I forego the total access I have to the Creator of heaven and earth that has all authority and has already told me to ask Him about my needs. No Secret Service to scoot through. No yelling my name just waiting to be called. No protocol lessons necessary. All the requirements have already been met for me by Jesus, when He hung on the cross.

How about you? What do you need to ask your heavenly Father for today? You will need no clearance or have to wait to be noticed. He waits to hear your requests and answer your prayers. And when He does, it will be even more exciting than Jigglypuff meeting the President.

Surgery

2011-02-28T14:30:00.001-05:00

On a regular mom day, many years ago in our home, my son came marching through the kitchen with his toy tool box, followed by his best friend from next door. They looked like very determined little men as they paraded through with eyes straight ahead. I was working at the sink, but paused long enough to ask them what they were doing. My son kept walking without a response or a moment’s hesitation, but his friend quickly called out, “Surgery.”

Deciding this was a comment worth pursuing, I paused in my work to follow them. When I arrived in the den, I saw my son standing on the back of the couch removing his father’s stuffed duck from the wall while his friend was getting out the plastic saw. Apparently, the decision had been made that their toy tool box contained the proper tools for performing an operation, needed or not, on my husband’s treasured wall hanging. After some words along on the lines of “stop” and “don’t” echoed through the room, the duck was returned to its rightful place on the wall and the boys set off, looking for their next victim.

I’m not sure what surgical success they could have actually attained with a plastic saw, but they were very serious about their work. And that’s when I was reminded of some habits in my own life.

God means what He says. What He says goes. His powerful Word is sharp as a surgeon’s scalpel, cutting through everything, whether doubt or defense, laying us open to listen and obey.
Hebrews 4:12 (The Message)

Sometimes, I long to see changes in my attitudes or behaviors or sometimes I am looking for answers to questions and concerns in my life. I run around, kind of like a chicken with my head cut off (as my momma used to say), asking advice, researching books and hunting for answers. Often, these efforts are about as effective as surgery on an already dead duck with a plastic saw.

When I choose to go to God’s word for my counsel, life change, attitude adjustment or new thought pattern, I find a tool that has real power for achieving actual results. I love that the book of Hebrews tells us His word is powerful enough to cut through everything, even my doubts and defenses. As I read God’s word, copy it, meditate on it, say it aloud, pray it and memorize it, the power only a real tool can deliver is at my disposal.

So how about you? Where are you struggling today? Are you choosing to work diligently, but using ineffective tools? What if you put away the plastic saw of your own efforts and starting using the powerful scalpel of God’s word? God’s word is a powerful tool for whatever surgery your life needs today.

Making Mistakes

2011-02-03T17:06:00.011-05:00

There were those big brown eyes. You could get lost in the pools they formed. There were the chubby cheeks and the delightful thunder thighs. There was the perpetual smile on his face. He was the most precious thing I had ever laid my eyes on and God had given him to me. How could I be anything but totally and completely in love?

My firstborn son caused emotions to rise in me I did not even know existed. Yes, I was crazy about his father but, wow. These mom feelings were a whole new ballgame. And out of all that love and emotion came a deep desire to be the best mother I could possibly be. Parenting was something I desperately wanted to get “right.”

But here is my sad news. I didn’t. That sweet baby boy God gave me was completely deserving of the perfect mother, but frequently I just did not manage to get it right. I made mistakes. Lots of them. When people ask about my mistakes as a mom, my first response is always, “Would you like them alphabetically or chronologically?”

So what happened? Did I channel my tiger mother too much? Or not enough? Did I not have enough knowledge of parenting? Did I not love him enough?

Have you ever asked yourself similar questions? Have you ever, like me, wanted so badly to get something right? Did you also find yourself on the failing end of that equation? If so, I have some good news for you.

But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 2 Corinthians 12:9

Before my son was ever born, God knew I would make mistakes. He understands all of my weaknesses better than I understand them myself. And like any loving parent, I think my heavenly Father smiles at my attempts to get it “right,” even if that means I make a big mess in the process. He graciously comes alongside me and says, “It’s okay Bettina. My power is made perfect in your weaknesses.”

So how about you? Where are you frustrated today that you have not been able to get something “right” that you desperately wanted to do well? You only need to open your hands to God who wants to use the very places where you are making mistakes to show His strength in you.

That precious baby boy who had such a mistake ridden mother? He is an incredible man today that makes his mom smile. If you asked him about the mistakes, he would probably softly chuckle and smile and tell you he didn’t remember any. That’s just the kind of man he is – a man who had a mistaken ridden mom and a God who showed off His strength in those very weaknesses.

Excitable

2011-01-15T10:52:00.011-05:00

As the kids were growing up, one of the comments we received repeatedly was, “It must be so interesting living at your house.” Trust me; this was rarely issued as a compliment. We were/are loud. Passionate. Argumentative. And definitely, excitable. Yes, there are wildly different and varying personalities within the group, but over all - well, it’s interesting. Just ask my poor daughter-in-law.

Some of this can be delightfully fun. Something wonderful happening in your life? We will party and celebrate with you till the cows come home. Going through a difficult time? We consider it a privilege to walk by your side with empathy. But sometimes, in the midst of all the drama and excitement, details do get overlooked.

In the book of Acts, there is a wonderful story about Peter’s escape from prison. Peter had been arrested by Herod and was surrounded by four squads of soldiers. During the night, an angel came to the prison and brought Peter out of prison. After realizing he was not dreaming but truly had been set free, Peter went to the house where other believers were gathered and praying for him. When Peter knocks, our excitable sister Rhoda comes to the door.

When she recognized Peter’s voice, she was so overjoyed she ran back
without opening it
and exclaimed, “Peter is at the door!” Acts 12:14 (NIV)

“Without opening it.” Boy, can I relate to this girl. Begging God for change in my life or in the lives of others, asking for Him to do what only He can do, but so excited and overjoyed when He moves, I forget to answer the door. Why is that? Am I in shock? Did I have too little faith? Did I doubt God wanted to move in my life? Or am I just aware that what I ask for may not be what I need? Understanding my motives is not something that comes easily.

You will be happy to know that Acts 12 tells us that while Rhoda tried to convince the house that Peter was really there, he continued to knock until the door was opened for him to come in. In my excited moments, I have to remember to continue to open doors. Often, when God moves in my life, He then asks me to follow with choices of obedience.

No matter the motivating behaviors behind my shock, I think being excited and overjoyed can be a positive thing. How often, as adults, do we become so mired down in the struggles of our life that we forget to be excited over the things God is actually doing in our life? Are we so depressed over the difficult realities we are facing that we miss the joys of everyday things?

So how about you? Where are you struggling today to see any excitement in your life? Can we both work to open our eyes just a little wider? Maybe, in the midst of struggle, we have missed seeing the hand of God at work in our lives. When you see what He is doing in your life, get excited, but also remember to open the door. Walking the excitable life, you never know what interesting days God might have in store for you.

When Christmas is Hard

2010-12-18T11:19:00.006-05:00

In my senior year of high school, my family was celebrating the holidays and preparing for Christmas much as we had every other year. The house was decorated, presents purchased, wrapped and under the tree, groceries being laid in for holiday feasts and parties being attended. Everything changed for us in an instant that holiday when my fifteen year old only brother was suddenly killed in an accident three days before Christmas.

Having a funeral for a teenager is never easy, but something becomes extra difficult when you have to rush in order to complete it before Christmas Eve. The shock of the loss echoed not only through my family, but throughout our small town. Some students, who were my friends at the high school, were unable to complete their exams as they dealt with the shock of what had occurred. Students at the junior high had to deal with the blow of coming to school and looking at an empty seat that had just the day before been full.

Our church was a large community in a smaller town. Not only did they struggle with the loss of my brother, but we also lost a young mom of three small children to cancer that same weekend. The pain of it all seemed too much to bear. These were the circumstances my pastor had to face that Christmas Eve when he stepped in the pulpit.

It is difficult to imagine the task Bro. Wilson had as he looked on our congregation. What do you say in a season that is supposed to be filled with joy yet is reeking with so much pain? Though I cannot give you exact quotations these many years later, I will never forget the message he brought that day.

Christmas is not always a time of joy. Sometimes it is a day of pain. But whether it is a day of pain or a day of joy, there is something we must never forget. Jesus still came. Jesus still comes. In the midst of our brightest shining moments or in the midst of the darkest pain, Jesus comes.

So where does Christmas find you this year? Are you struggling with estrangement from a loved one, unemployment, missing a spouse or child who is away from home, serious illness, loss of a loved one or a difficulty that no one knows but you? Do the carols that once brought joy to your heart bring tears to your eyes this season? May I encourage you today as Bro. Wilson encouraged me those many years ago? Wherever Christmas finds you, Jesus still comes. And because He came, your pain is not in vain. Nor is it the end of your story. Jesus came to die and pay the price for the wrongs that separate us from God. Because He came, we can accept His payment for the bill we owe. And when we accept that payment, this is what we will be a part of one day:

For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their
Shepherd;
He will lead them to springs of living water.
And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.
Revelation 7:17 (NIV)

And Christmas will be hard no more.

Christmas Cookies

2010-12-01T17:05:00.006-05:00

Going to my Aunt Dot’s and Uncle Don’s house for Christmas has always been a treat. Very few places on earth feel as comfortable, warm and accepting as being in their home. One of our favorite things about Christmas though is Aunt Dot’s cookies. She starts very early in the season preparing and freezing cookies of every variety imaginable. No dieting or scrimping in these cookies. They are filled with butter, sugar and many other yummy ingredients. When we arrive, there is always a tray out filled with these delicious delights.

There is only one problem with all this sugary yumminess. Sometimes, I find myself grabbing “just one cookie” so many times during the day that when the mealtime arrives, it is hard to eat. Like a five year old, I have already filled up on cookies, leaving no room for the main meal my body needs to actually nourish me and satisfy my true hunger. So like my spiritual condition at times.

God knows I am hungry – and wants me filled up – on Him. But too often, I have filled up on cookies and have no room left for the food that will actually nourish and fill me. Then, in spite of the fact that I have eaten, my body ends up hungry for the nourishment it requires.

Let me share with you some of the spiritual cookies that I have used to fill me up in the past:

1. Having the perfect house (ok, realistically, I was never even close on this one!)
2. Being the perfect parent (might have made this one except for those “imperfect” children I had to raise – just saying)
3. Getting everything “done” on my list (yeah, that was going to happen)
4. Being the hostess with the mostest (Martha Stewart, look out)
5. Having a career/job I loved and valued (somehow this rings very hollow from a currently unemployed person!)

Here is the real truth. God and His word are the only things that will actually satisfy the empty hungry places in my soul.

How do you know if you have hungry places that are unfilled? Maybe your anger with your spouse, your frustration at your job, or your fear of the future is actually unidentified hunger pain. Today, can you let go of some of the cookies you have been stuffing on and fill yourself with the only thing that will actually truly satisfy?

Cookies are great, especially when made by my Aunt Dot. But they are treats, never meant to actually satisfy deep hunger or provide extended nourishment. So, enjoy your cookies this holiday, but make sure you are filling your soul with the things that will feed your hunger.

Open your mouth and eat what I give you.
Ezekiel 2:8b (NIV)

Winner - Battlefield and Blessings

2010-11-15T13:25:00.002-05:00

Thanks to everyone who commented to enter the drawing for a copy of Jocelyn Green's book, "Battlefield and Blessings - Stories of Faith and Courage from The War in Iraq and Afghanistan." My sixteen year old completed our very "official" drawing this morning and the winner is Jodi.

For more information on this book and the entire series, visit www.battlefieldsandblessings.com

Battlefields and Blessings

2010-11-10T19:08:00.011-05:00

In honor of Veteran's Day, my friend, Jocelyn Green (www.jocelyngreen.com) has graciously given me a copy of her book, "Battlefields and Blessings - Stories of Faith and Courage from the War in Iraq and Afghanistan" to offer as a free giveway this week. Below, you will find my review of the book along with a link to Jocelyn's web site where you can find more information about the book. Please leave a comment, including your email address, at the end of this article to be included in the drawing for the book. I will announce the winner next week and send the winner's book along it's way. A special thanks this week to all America's veterans!

In the recent 2010 congressional elections, polls indicated that the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were not anywhere near the top of many voters’ minds as they went to the polls. But every day, our troops and their families continue to sacrifice and serve in both of these wars. "Battlefields and Blessings – Stories of Faith and Courage from The War in Iraq and Afghanistan" is the much needed call to remember not only the sacrifices our troops and their families have made and continue to make in these regions, but how the hand of God is ever present in times of trouble.

Written as a daily devotional, the book shares the stories of members of the armed forces, parents of service members, spouses, children, missionaries who have served in these countries and also politicians and civilians who serve our military. A source of encouragement amidst stories that could otherwise be overwhelming and disheartening, each day includes an inspirational story from the conflicts, along with an applicable Bible verse and a one or two sentence prayer. The varied perspectives from not just those who have served in the conflict, but many others affected by these wars, gives the reader a multifaceted look at not only the challenges, but also the positive outcomes in times of battle.

One of my favorite entries was the story of Stephanie Olsen, wife of military police officer Joe Olsen. Stephanie talks about how she answers when people ask her how it feels to be the wife of a serviceman. Her one word answer is “personal.” Thanks to the efforts of Jane Hampton Cook, Jocelyn Green and John Croushorn, we have in-depth and encouraging insight into the very personal world of those affected by the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and the blessings given by the One who watches over all of them.

Visit www.battlefieldsandblessings.com for more information about the entire series.

Pushing

2010-11-10T18:52:00.004-05:00

One of my favorite things about fall is the abundance of fresh delicious apples. In Virginia, picking apples in the country orchard and bringing them home to eat fresh or use in yummy recipes has become one of the activities that just says fall for our family. There are few things better than a fresh picked juicy apple right off the tree.

Several years ago we bought an apple slicer which is put to good use every autumn. With one quick push, the apple is cored and cut into convenient slices, ready to eat. One afternoon, as I was trying to prepare a snack for Libby and her friend, I pulled the apple slicer from the drawer. After centering it on the apple and pushing down once, I realized this apple was going to be a little difficult. Being more determined, I centered the slicer once again on the apple and gave it another push, but still did not have my conveniently sliced snack when I was done. Being determined, I squared my shoulders for another attempt, only to hear the handle of the slicer snap – to the hilarious entertainment of my daughter and her friend. I had pushed too far this time.

True confession – I am a pusher. Some people would dress it up in fancy clothes and call it determination, which is usually viewed as a positive quality. But the reality for me is some of what I do is not determination – it’s pushing. And what happens to those around me when I push? Just like the apple slicer, sometimes things get broken. Sometimes people get broken. But there is another role model I can choose to imitate.

God can do anything, you know-far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, His Spirit deeply and gently within us.
Ephesians 3:20 (The Message)

God chooses to deal with me, not by pushing, but by working deeply and gently within me. I love thinking of God and realizing how He is ever the gentleman – never demanding His way into my life, but constantly ready to show me the way home to peace and forgiveness when I look to Him. He doesn’t push for me to follow Him, be with Him or even listen to Him. He simply waits for me to turn to Him.

How can God’s model of gently working in me apply to the way I deal with those I encounter each day? What happens when I come against situations that seem just too tough to slice? I know I can not be the Holy Spirit to anyone else, but what might happen if instead of pushing the issue just one more time, the next time I disagree with someone or something, I backed off and allowed some gentleness to do its work? Maybe, the person, or obstacle, I have come up against would soften. Maybe, I would find an alternative answer to my dilemma. Or maybe, just maybe, I would have time to realize I was wrong about where I thought things needed to go in the first place.

How about you? Is there someone or something you are pushing in your life today? Is it causing grief or anxiety for you and/or them? What might happen if you followed God’s model of gentleness? Maybe we would all end up with the results we truly need without the brokenness in the process.

You Suck

2010-10-05T12:06:00.007-04:00

So, the thing with the crutches was not going as well as I had hoped. So, healing was coming much slower than I had anticipated. So, even though I had known in advance that everything would be more difficult on three legs, it was not making my lack of perceived progress any less discouraging. In spite of all these factors, I had not really anticipated the response from my sweet 16 after she had to listen to yet another speech concerning my frustration over not moving more quickly.

“You know Mom, of all the fruits of the spirit I think the one you have the least amount of is patience. When it comes to patience, you suck.”

Ouch. Impertinent teen. How dare she. . . . except, didn’t my buddy just tell me the same thing in an email last week? “I wish I could help out with your inability to walk as I know you are not the most patient person in the world.”

Now sisters, when your buddy and your daughter tell you the same thing in one week - it’s time to listen. Even if the words you hear are not the ones you wish had come to your ears. So what did I need to learn about this area where it was pretty obvious that I sucked?

It is nice to know that the Bible is full of people who struggled with weaknesses. Paul was just one of those people. In his second letter to the Corinthians, he describes dealing with something he calls a “thorn in the flesh.” Paul does not tell us what this specific weakness is, but He does tell us that He begged God to take it away. And God’s response is one of my favorite verses in the Bible:

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in
weakness.”
2 Corinthians 12:10 (NIV)

How exciting is that? The very area I may be struggling with the most, right where life is challenging and everyone in sight can see that I am struggling - that is the very place that God comes along with His grace (unmerited favor; have to love that concept!) and power in me.

So, let’s put our big girl panties on and talk. Where are you struggling? No one may have told you (at least this week) that you suck, but we all struggle somewhere. What would happen if we turned to God and asked Him to show us how those very areas where we struggle are the places where His grace and power can come shining through? What difference might it make in our life and the lives of those around us if we stopped trying to “fix” everything that was wrong with us, admitted our struggles to each other and then let God’s grace and power do the rest?

I do not know what this might look like in your life. But in mine, it means that when my daughter says, “You suck,” we can look at each other and laugh. Because the child is right. I do. But I serve a God who specializes in being gracious and strong right where I am weak. And that, my friends, is something worth smiling about.

Saying No, Being Still, Gaining Perspective

2010-09-25T10:43:00.005-04:00

Once upon an autumn, life took me by surprise. The news came causing some unexpected changes in my life. This news was not tragic, not really dramatic, but just enough to require some major adjustments in my schedule over the weeks that spread out in front of me.

As is my nature, my brain kicked into overdrive. I rapidly began with phone calls, emails, paperwork, and rescheduling to make the needed adjustments in our lives. But within twenty four hours or so, after the initial flurry of activity slowed down, the questions in the night began. So how will all of this really work out? Am I making the right choices? Will everything be ok?

I backed out of a previous commitment (thanks to an incredibly understanding and gracious friend) in order to complete necessary work to prepare our home and family for the upcoming changes. But as I began the day, God called me first to sit with Him before I tore into my list of projects. And with a warm cup of coffee in my hand, He sweetly spoke again into my life.

There’s more to come: We continue to shout out praise even when we’re hemmed in with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. In alert expectancy such as this, we’re never left feeling shortchanged.
Quite the contrary-we can’t round up enough containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives through the Holy Spirit.
Romans 5:3-5 (The Message)

The news I felt was turning my world upside down (at least temporarily) was not a surprise to God. And if I would let Him redirect my perspective, I would be able to see some passionate patience developed in my life, along with some of the tempered steel of virtue. All of this could leave me in a place of alert expectancy, busy rounding up containers, but always falling short of having enough to hold all God was generously pouring into my life. Somehow this was a markedly different view than my questions of “will it be okay.” What a cozy place to be, warming my heart as my coffee warmed my throat.

The interesting thing about my new perspective was that the details of my life’s quandaries had changed not one iota. The challenges were still real and present. They just looked different when viewed through my Father’s eyes.

So how about you? Where in life could you use some new perspective? May I share some advice from a woman who has screwed up many, many times? Unless I had been willing to say no, which went against every unwritten rule in my little mind (you don’t back out once you make a commitment!!), I would never have had the time to hear God’s voice. Sometimes, you have to say no to other things, in order to say yes to God. And yes, sometimes, you will not look good in the eyes of others when you say no or "I can't." But what are you looking for in your life? Peace in your heart or a good reputation?

Once I had said no (and risked looking like the shirker who just can’t seem to get her act together, again), I had to stop and listen for God’s voice. This was not my default thinking. My mind told me there were innumerable tasks that had to be completed. It also threw me that famous lie, “If you don’t do it, it won’t get done.” My to-do list screamed loudly, but my Father spoke gently, “Let me give you the strength to complete your work. Come sit with me first.” So I sat. Not because I had the time, but mainly because of the painful memories of how many times I had chosen not to sit and come up later with an empty tank when I needed strength the most.

This is not a formula, nor is it rocket science. It is just another simple story of a woman who had an unexpected curve ball thrown her way, but was met in the batter’s box by a loving Father. So what is crossing your plate as you stand up to swing today? What if you choose to say no, be still and gain some new perspective? The same Father who met me, waits anxiously to meet you.

TheWhisper of "Is it Enough?"

2010-09-16T15:11:00.013-04:00

Talking with a friend, the subject of schedules came up as it so often does between women. My friend remarked that she never says anymore that she is busy. When I inquired why, she shared a story with me about a conversation between her and another mother. Let’s call my friend Suzie Sensible and the woman she was talking with Betty Busy. Suzie and Betty were comparing schedules. When Suzie began discussing her life, Betty surprisingly informed Suzie that she could not possibly be as busy as Betty was. In spite of the fact that Suzie has three children in elementary school, a husband, a house to care for, works a part time job and runs her own small business, Betty quickly assured Suzie that she was not busy enough to be in the league with Betty. After that day, Suzie decided to never being a “busy” discussion with another woman. Probably a smart idea, but what was most intriguing to me was what my friend, Suzie said next. She looked me in the eyes and said, “Am I doing enough?”

Isn’t that the question we all struggle with at some time or many times in our lives? The root of the question is as old as creation. Since the dawn of time, the enemy has continued to sell women the same tired line, though it may take on different appearances from generation to generation. The heart of the question still remains the same. Is it enough? Is God enough? Am I enough?

Our struggles with finances often come from listening to this question. We look around and do not observe the almost obnoxious abundance we have in this country that the rest of the world readily sees. We choose instead to look at our neighbors, relatives, and friends and see only scales out of balance and not in our favor. We take jobs to make more so we can spend more so we can have more and on the vicious circle rolls.

Hearing the question of “Is it enough?” can cause us to become unhappy in our family relationships. I wish I was single, I wish I was married, I wish I had children, I wish the children were grown and gone, I wish my husband was different, I wish my children were different. When things are viewed in the light of “Is it enough?” too often we end up observing what we lack, not the numerous gifts we have.

As important as all these areas are in our life, nothing rocks us like the final two questions.

Is God enough?
Am I enough?

Here is the good news. Our God is always, forever and ever ENOUGH. The Alpha and the Omega, the Author and Finisher of our Faith, Omnipotent, All powerful, the I AM. To rest in His amazing power and awesome strength is always a safe place for our hearts. Interestingly enough, the fact that He is enough answers our final question also.

This is love: not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.
1 John 4:10 (NIV)

But God demonstrates His own love for us in this:
While we were still sinners, Christ, died for us.
Romans 5:8 (NIV)

And so we know and rely on the love God has for us.
I John 4:16 (NIV)

We have a Father who is enough and has made us enough in Him. Let’s tell the enemy to take a hike the next time he tries his worn out line on us. We are daughters of the King. We are princesses. We are enough.

The Trump Card

2010-09-08T12:59:00.012-04:00

We all come from so many different places and not just geographically. Some are born into families where they are wanted, loved and treasured. Others, like me, come along as a “problem” to those who bear them. Some of these “problems” are placed for adoption in wonderful homes, some grow up in families where they are constantly reminded of being an inconvenience and so many are aborted before they ever see the light of day. So what effect do these beginnings have on the rest of our lives?

Modern science is making landmark progress today in the study of what happens to us in our mothers’ wombs. We know more than ever about the psychological effects on the unborn of what happens during pregnancy. Some experience emotional pain from those days which they carry throughout their lives. The good news is God has a trump card, no matter what our beginnings or where life finds us today.

The trump card was not a concept I truly began to understand until I started dating Rob. When I began to meet his family, I quickly learned playing bridge was a favorite family pastime. Not wanting to be left out, I set out to learn the game only to find I was not a quick study. Rob patiently taught me the manners, rules and strategy of the game, but I struggled to master the trump card concept. I would excitedly lay down my ace, sure of winning a trick. Imagine my shock when another player pulled out a trump card to snatch away my win. I would end up wondering how this happened when I was holding an ace, seemingly a sure win card. The truth of bridge that I struggled to internalize and remember was that the trump card overrides any card of another suit, no matter how high that card’s value. Trumps always win.

Here is God’s trump card about our origins:

Yet to all who received Him, to those who believed in His name,
He gave the right to become children of God –
children born not of natural descent,
nor of human decision or a husband’s will,
but born of God.
John 1:12-13 (NIV)

By sending His son, God played the trump card which covers all other aces. No circumstance of my origin, or in my daily life, is larger than the trump of being His child. Events often occur in our lives which make it seem as if the enemy holds all the aces. Thank you Father for the trump card you played of making me your child. Nothing has been done to me, nothing will occur in my life that is larger than my God.

God laid down the trump, but I won the trick. I became His child.

A Chapter Closes

2010-07-01T12:28:00.003-04:00

This day was always in our future, but it seemed so very far away. Today, CDR Robert Dowell, USNR becomes CDR Robert Dowell, USNR – retired. After 29 ½ years of serving in the United States Navy, this chapter of our lives comes to a close.

We married one week after Rob accepted his commission at Newport, Rhode Island. After six years of active duty, Rob transferred to the Navy Reserves. He has served in our community and around the world. We have walked through more nights of “Well, they said they might be sending me to . . . .” then I care to remember. We will go to sleep tonight knowing there will be no more orders in our future.

As I try to process what this new chapter in our life means, I looked to the Bible to read the farewell speech of another military commander – Joshua. In chapter 24 of the book of Joshua, the mighty leader of Israel speaks to the nation at the close of his military career. In typical Joshua style, he does not rehearse the great achievements of his service, but continues to remind them of what God has done for them. After he recounts the many struggles God has brought them through, Joshua presents the nation with a charge:

But if serving the Lord seems undesirable to you,
then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your forefathers served beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living.
But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.
Joshua 24:15 (NIV)

Probably the thing I will remember the most about our military career was the constant uncertainty. When you sign up to serve, you turn over certain freedoms in exchange for being ready to go when called. While I struggled frequently with this lifestyle, Rob always continued to quietly trust in God, even when things did not go well. He always trusted that while we had surrendered certain parts of our life to the Navy, the Navy always rested in the hands of a sovereign God who ultimately decided our course. When Rob was called to postpone retirement and serve in Iraq, he felt it was not the military who sent him, but God. Because Rob had made the choice for himself and our household to serve God, he had the strength to do the hard things.

As a chapter closes and another begins for us, I want to be like Rob and Joshua - so assured in my choice to follow God, that the trials and tribulations that come to us in life do not rock my boat quite so hard. Chapters close and others begin sometimes over years, sometimes in a moment’s notice, bringing circumstances that can challenge us beyond what we feel we can bear. I do not know what circumstances challenge you in life today, but would they be made easier by reminding yourself whom you have chosen to serve?

But as for me and my household,
We will serve the Lord.

Our Hero Comes Home

2010-04-03T22:57:00.004-04:00

as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many. 2 Corinthians 1:11 (NIV)

The moment we have waited for so many months has finally arrived. At an airport terminal in Baltimore, we screamed, we cried, we ran, we hugged, we kissed, and we were reunited with our Commander. It was a wonderful culminating moment of a incredible journey.

We are thankful to a Father who graciously allowed Rob to come safely home to us. We are grateful to the many family and friends who have prayed for us. We find ourselves incredibly appreciative of the gift of everyday things like being able to reach out and hold one another's hands.

May I ask you a question this Easter? Are you aware that there is a Father who awaits your homecoming with more anticipation than we ever had for Rob's homecoming? Though we were busy with multiple homecoming preparations, they can not hold a candle to what God has done to bring you home to Him. He has given the gift of His only Son to give you a way to come home. If you have not accepted His gift and come home, will you do that today? If you have, will you remember today how much He has done to bring you home?

Homecoming is a wonderful thing.

A Homecoming Story

2010-03-22T08:06:00.002-04:00

It had been a long deployment for us. My pre-Sept. 11th military reserve children were not in any way accustomed to Dad being sent to the other side of the world for eight months of duty in a combat zone. Rob was very involved in all aspects of their life and his absence had left a tremendous hole. And of the three of them, none had seemed to take it harder than Daddy’s princess.

As their separation began, none of us really knew how nine turning ten year old Libby would react to the deployment. Yes, there had been tears shed at the time of goodbye, but what coping skills would she develop to wrap her brain around the absence of her dad? It didn’t take us long to find out.

Rob was able to find a connection, when he was settled in country, and call us on the phone about once a week. (This was long before the days of anything called Skype.) We began to notice that Libby would be conveniently busy or somewhere else when we would try to track her down to talk to Rob on the phone. After some intense discussions with her, her brothers and I realized she had decided to cope with Rob’s absence by largely pretending that he was not gone. Any phone calls would quickly erase her pretensions, so she avoided them like the plague. Though she did not slog through her days in constant tears or depression, there was no doubt this deployment was talking its toll on her.

When it was time for Rob to return, we excitedly packed up and headed to the airport in another city to await his arrival. Because Rob was an IA (Individual Augmentee – he deployed alone instead of with a unit), he was scheduled to fly home on a commercial airline. When I arrived at the airport with my children, we requested a gate pass so we could greet him as soon as the plane landed. We excitedly thanked the ticket agent and headed out to the terminal where his flight was due to arrive.

As we arrived at Rob’s gate, we began to scan the tarmac for any sign of the arrival of Rob’s plane. What we did not know was that Rob’s plane had arrived early. He had worn civilian clothes on the flight, but had gone into a restroom directly behind where we were standing to change into his uniform before greeting us on the other side of security, or so he thought. As we stared out the window, I suddenly realized that Libby was no longer standing with us. When the boys and I starting looking for her, we turned around to see a sight that I will never forget. Libby had turned around and seen her Daddy coming out of the restroom. Without a sound, she had run across the terminal and knocked him flat on the floor. There he lay, on his back in the terminal, with the little girl in the pink dress spread eagle across the top of him sobbing her lungs out. It was if eight months of fear, hurt, pain and sorrow all spilled out onto her Daddy.

The boys and I just stood around them for a few minutes. You could hear her all over the terminal. People walked by who didn’t even know us and wiped their eyes. It was an amazing sight.

I don’t know what kind of relationship you have with your earthly father, but please hear today that you have a Heavenly Father who loves you even more than Rob loves Libby. And He is not far away. You do not have to wait for Him to come home to you. It is His heart’s desire that today you would turn and run to Him. Stop pretending about your pain and let go of the deep, dark places inside of you. He longs for you to drape yourself across Him and pour out the deepest hurts, fears, sorrows and needs of your heart.

God did this so that men would seek Him and perhaps reach out for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us.
Acts 17:27 (NIV)

Cold, Hard and Unforgiving

2010-03-02T16:12:00.010-05:00

It has been three weeks since the last accumulating snowfall hit the mid-Atlantic. Yet, everywhere you turn, you can still see snow. Temperatures have stayed well below seasonal averages, the sun has refused to shine many days and the large volume of snow which has accumulated means that although some melting has occurred, there is still no end to the sight of snow at every turn.

I love snow. I love watching it fall, seeing it pile up and playing in it. I love the way snow trumps almost every agenda in Washington, D.C. and brings life to a screeching halt. I love having my family home together enjoying sitting by the fire and drinking hot chocolate in our pajamas – at two o’clock in the afternoon. Beautiful white fluffy snow cleans the world better than Clorox on the stained shirt of a little boy.

As much as I love beautiful white, clean snow, I have an almost equal distaste for dirty snow. What is left in Washington is no longer the clean beautiful snow that had fallen weeks before on our landscape. What is now piled on the side of the road, in the medians and in virtual mini-mountains in parking lots is dirty snow. Though it had started out beautiful and white as it fell to the ground, the snow has been plowed, pushed aside and covered with dirt from vehicles flying by. It is the kind of snow only man, vehicles and lots of nasty chemicals can create. Due to the large nature of some of the piles, it is just not going away. Snow in the grass has melted in the warmth of the sun, but the dirty snow is cold, hard and very unforgiving. Weeks after it fell, it sits seemingly immovable and covered in dirt. Most unattractive.

This is where the lesson turned very personal and very painful for me. God showed me how closely my speech lately had become to that large pile of dirty snow. Cold, hard and very unforgiving. In an attempt to “always be direct with people,” my speech had become something that served only me and whatever selfish desires I had at a particular given moment. Why, of course, didn’t others need to hear my opinion on a certain subject? Weren’t they just dying to know what I thought? Besides, maybe they needed my “help” in the form of unsolicited advice. After all, didn’t I really have more experience and know better? Ouch. It is painful to even type such ugly thoughts that my selfish heart has been busy justifying. Listen to what Jesus says about the words my mouth speaks.

“For out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks.”
Matthew 12:34b (NIV)

So, if I do not like the words I hear coming out of my mouth, the first place I have to look is my heart. When had I decided that my personal opinion was gospel the world needed to hear? Though God had given me the blessing of having some experiences I had learned from through the years, were not those lessons designed to keep me humble rather than making me arrogant? Where were the concepts of grace and forgiveness in my heart and speech, especially with those I love the most?

I do not like dirty snow. But even more important, God wants me to not like a dirty heart. When I allow myself to be deluded into believing the importance of the words I have to share, I will become just as cold, hard and unforgiving as the dirty snow on the side of the road. Precious Father, today could you please make my thoughts and words clean and refreshing? I want the things that come out of my heart and mouth to be as beautiful and pure as your clean, white snow.

Shelter In Place

2010-02-11T11:51:00.003-05:00

When the Red Cross starts sending out advisories to your area, you realize this is not your typical snow. Mid-Atlantic weather forecasters describing snow in “feet” instead of “inches” is cause for throwing the Washington, D.C. metro area into a complete panic. As people rushed around buying up every gallon of milk and loaf of bread that was not nailed down, the authorities tried to prepare residents for the coming storm.

Then the Red Cross weighed in with their advisory. Even after going through three hurricanes in a six week period in Florida during 2004, I do not remember hearing these exact words before:

“Be prepared to shelter in place for 3 to 5 days.”

My first response was to try and think about exactly what that would mean. Okay, so the weather is cold, the snow is piling up and we literally cannot go anywhere. For days. What would we need? Was our home secure against the storm? How would I prepare our shelter? What would it look like to shelter in place?

To prepare for a snow storm, my priorities revolved around food, accessible firewood in case we lost power, plenty of batteries, flashlights and bottled water. But what happens when other types of storms enter my life? Where will I find my shelter then?

You have been a refuge for the poor, a refuge for the needy in his distress,
a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat.
Isaiah 25:4 (NIV)

As a woman, I do not lack for storms in my life. Children, jobs, marriages, moves, elderly parents, broken things, illnesses and other storms can arise with little or no warning. Sometimes, the Red Cross will not step in and warn me of approaching storms. So the question for me becomes, will I be ready? How do I prepare?

1. My security has to be in God and God alone. Every other source, no matter how reliable, has the potential for failing me. God is my true and trustworthy shelter in the storms that life can bring. Only God can back up the statement, “I will never leave you, never will I forsake you.” (Hebrews 13:5b – NIV)

2. I need to turn my fears over to God, sometimes repeatedly. If there is one lesson the Lord keeps bringing back to me over and over again during the past few months, it is that my fears have to learn to bow down with me at the cross. I am to fear God – only. “We take every thought captive to make it obedient to Christ.” (2 Corinthians 10:5b – NIV)

3. Understanding in advance that there are going to be storms makes them easier to manage when they arrive. For me, this has been a very typical season with Rob gone of broken appliances, illnesses and other challenges. What seems to make them easier this time is my ability to laugh (only developed after becoming weary from years of flying off the handle with each crisis) more often as these challenges arise. I have found comfort in knowing in advance that with my husband gone, no matter how well he had prepared our home, vehicles, etc., things are just going to go awry. There can definitely be some humor, when I look for it, in how those challenges take shape. “He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.” (Matthew 5:45b – NIV)

As I watch my sweet neighbor snowblow my driveway (again), I am thankful for the lessons of this storm. There are precautions I need to take in order to be ready to run to the only true shelter that will never fail me in the storms of life which will inevitably arise. I must prepare now to be ready to run to God when the storms of my life cause me to need to shelter in place. How about you? Where is your shelter today?

Of Mice and Women

2010-01-19T08:24:00.001-05:00

Challenges for women come in many forms as life rolls along. Sometimes they come in the form of illness – the children, elderly parents, a spouse, you or even the pets can become ill and provide challenges for a woman. Sometimes, they come in the form of broken things – vehicles, appliances, toilets, the toy of a preschooler, the heart of a teenager or any other myriad of things can stop working as they were intended to function. Sometimes those challenges can come in the form of little furry rodents called mice.

When I first began to notice little holes in bags of food in my pantry, I wondered if I had picked up a damaged item at the grocery. Then I noticed the little holes had jagged edges to them and the food inside the bags also had little jagged pieces missing. Finally, I discovered little dark pellets around the pantry that let me know there were creatures having a party with my food every night and this time, they were not teenagers. Mice!

After cleaning and throwing away more food than I care to think about, I headed out to the store for some assistance. I bought what looked to be fairly humane traps that would allow for the capture and disposal of mice without me ever having to touch or see them. Carefully, I set the traps around, anxious to have my problems contained for easy disposal. But the mice who had decided to party in my pantry apparently snickered behind their little whiskers at my vain attempts, and the traps remained undisturbed – unlike the food in my pantry. I decided to replace the traps with packaged poison that was supposed to be very enticing to little rodents, but once again, my photo apparently ended up in the editorial section of “Mice Times” with the words “Who is she kidding?” under my picture. My poison packages remained untouched, but I lost another bag of hot dog buns. My father even gave me blocks of poison that had produced multiple dead rats around his bird feeders when he had a rodent problem, but every night the mice return to chew on the poison while none of them turn up dead, at least not in my house. They just keep coming back for the party.

So what is a woman to do? I am so glad that you asked.

I honestly believe my mice are very symptomatic of so many other large and small challenges in my life and the lives of many women. It really isn’t about the mice. It rarely is about whatever challenge life may deal us at even given moment. It is about my response.

This is typical of my process when things in life are a struggle, though the order of events changes depending on where my heart is resting at the time. I cry out to God, “Please deliver me!” I work very hard at finding my own answer. I look to see God bring deliverance. And here is the reality in my life – sometimes, deliverance from my challenge does not come.

So what does my response look like in those times? What if my challenge continues, sometimes even increasing in difficulty? Oh sweet sisters, I think so often God desires not to catch the mouse, but to calm the mouse catcher. How often does my Father long for me not to know deliverance, but instead to know my Deliverer? For in those days when I do not see deliverance from my challenge, I have an opportunity to know my Deliverer more deeply. To seek His face. To look for His strength. To depend on His love. To be the place where I take refuge.

He is my loving God and my fortress,
My stronghold and my deliverer,
My shield, in whom I take refuge, who subdues peoples under me.
Psalm 144:2 (NIV)

So what is your challenge today? What are the mice in your pantry? Do the heavens seem silent? Are you weary in waiting for deliverance? Stop. Breathe deeply. Know your Deliverer and take refuge in Him.

Seeing Glory

2009-12-16T11:48:00.002-05:00

Only a few days left until Christmas and for more than a few women, life is at its ultimate craziness. Decorating, shopping, parties, baking, recitals and concerts, travel plans, cleaning, packing, wrapping, card writing and a myriad of other seasonal activities seem to add themselves to a woman’s already traditionally long “to do” list. Rarely does a new year roll around that I do not hear at least one woman exclaim, “I’m so glad the holidays are over.”

In addition, there are many of us who struggle to see this as a joyous time of year due to the circumstances of life. Children not returning home for the holidays, aging parents with issues, military family members deployed far away from home, a doctor’s diagnosis you never wanted to hear, facing Christmas without the presence of a beloved family member who has passed on, or one of many other painful situations. So, between the stress of the season itself and the stress of life in general, where do we find the joy?

The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us.
we have seen His glory, the glory of the One and Only,
who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.
John 1:14

As a teenager, I learned the hard way that Christmas is not always a joyous time when we unexpectedly lost my brother just three days before Christmas. His loss was not only devastating to us as a family, but also to our small community and church. I still remember the pastor’s message in that dark hour. He preached about how Christmas is not always a joyous time, but it always brings joy because it brings Jesus. Jesus came and we can see His glory.

How? This week, He has graciously shown me His glory in so many ways. I see His glory when my tired husband makes time to call me on the computer no matter how long and stressful his day may have been. I see His glory when my oldest son comes out from the city to take his sister Christmas shopping. I see His glory when my daughter-in-law travels out to the suburbs not once, but twice, in one day to take my daughter to get her hair cut. I see His glory when my younger son rearranges his schedule to come home early and help out his family. I see His glory when my daughter prepares a meal for me after a long day at school and rehearsals. I see His glory when meals show up at the door unexpectedly to make our lives easier. I see His glory as people give my daughter rides to and from school. I see His glory when friends call and say they will pick up my son at a distant airport very late at night. And more than anywhere, I see His glory in that He would send His only Son to save someone as messed up as me.

Biblical scholars can illuminate much more profound demonstrations of seeing God’s glory. But for me, per usual, the lessons must always be kept very simple. God’s glory is evident all around me in the small occurrences of daily life. And seeing His glory brings joy to my Christmas.

So how about you? Where is your stress level this Christmas? Could you use some joy? May I encourage you to begin to look for His glory? Look for those small places in your life where God has reminded you how very much He loves you. It may be the best gift under your tree this year.

Traffic

2009-11-21T10:06:00.004-05:00

No matter how advanced our GPS systems, how adequately we have timed our travel, how little luggage we have to clear through the airport security lines, or how short a distance we may have to travel to share time with loved ones during the holidays, all of us are probably going to encounter traffic. Road construction, snaking lines at the airport, even just the checkout lines at the local discount store or grocery (do they ever think to go on and open all those lanes?) can quickly change our mood of holiday joy to a character that would even spook Ebenezer. So if we all know that traffic is probably in our future during the next few weeks, what can we do to keep ourselves from being miserable in the midst of it?

“Step out of the traffic!
Take a long loving look at me, your High God,
Above politics, above everything.”
Psalm 46:10 (The Message)

What a concept. Step out of the traffic. But how do we realistically do that as women who need to get places, feed others, wrap gifts, do some laundry, decorate our homes, write some cards, stuff a turkey and buy some groceries? No matter how delightful our spouses or children, we most likely cannot expect to go soak in some bubbles and come out finding all our chores accomplished. To get on the interstate in late November or December and expect to glide away with no brake lights appearing in front of us as everything narrows to one lane is probably not going to happen either. Nor are we going to show up at the airport and be asked to walk straight through security without waiting our turn. And let’s face it ladies – Walmart is never going to open all those checkout lanes, not even on Black Friday or Christmas Eve.

I think the key to stepping out of the traffic is found in the second part of this verse where it tells us to “take a long, loving look at me, your High God.” But how am I supposed to do that in a season when I can never seem to get everything done? Believe it or not, this is something we can do, even in the November/December crazies.

Taking a long, loving look at God can be as simple as focusing on the Christmas carols playing in Walmart while we wait in line. “Glory to the newborn king – God and sinners reconciled.” That is us! Reconciled to God no matter how much we have screwed up our lives or continue to make mistakes each day. We are reconciled to the sovereign God of the universe. Focusing on a life changing truth like that can definitely make the lines easier to tolerate, even turning what seemed to be an unnecessary delay into moments of peace.

Taking a long, loving look at God can be as simple as choosing to rehearse everything He has done for us while we are stuck in traffic. Instead of glancing repeatedly at the clock the next time I am stuck in a jam, how might my attitude change if I choose to use that time to start listing all the things God has done for me and my family this past year? I may arrive later than I wanted to at my destination, but won’t I be more pleasant when I get there?

Taking a long, loving look at God can be as simple as standing in the airport security line and smiling at all the agents who have been on their feet all day, remembering how much God loves them too. Do they know how much God loves them? He tells me He came to reconcile them too. I may not get to share this truth with them, but could I make a difference in their day by just being nice and sharing a smile or asking them about their day? If nothing else, it will certainly change my focus from my agenda, to what God might have for someone else today.

So where is God calling you to “step out of the traffic and take a long, loving look at me” today? He is “above politics, above everything.” Above the traffic I find myself in today. Let’s step out together and look at Him.

30 Days of Thanksliving

2009-11-02T10:45:00.002-05:00

As I drove down the interstate heading back home to Orlando at the beginning of that November, it was looking to be a long month. In fact, it was looking to be a long several months. I had just said goodbye to my husband as he deployed to Bosnia where he was scheduled to stay until summer of the next year. While my ten year old daughter alternated between entertaining herself and sleeping in the back seat, I listened to a book on CD to try and keep myself alert and focused on the task at hand.

Jan Karon’s Mitford novels have always been favorites of mine. This was not my first exposure to this particular tale of Father Tim (In This Mountain, Jan Karon, 2002), but I felt the repetition of the story would be comforting and not distracting as I drove. As is often the case with rehearing a familiar story though, something struck me differently this time. Father Tim was learning a lesson in being thankful during the difficult seasons of life from 1 Thessalonians.

In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.
1 Thessalonians 5:18 (KJV)

As I heard Father Tim learn the lesson of “in everything give thanks,” I realized that God was speaking to me. Yes, the months ahead were not looking particularly appealing. My heart was hurting and I was quite frankly afraid. Would I trust God enough to give thanks “in everything”? That seemed to be the challenge the Father was laying before me.

Upon my return home, I was greeted with the normal small catastrophes that greet many military spouses as quickly as the door closes behind the deploying service member. The funniest (now, it’s funny – it certainly wasn’t then) memory was sitting at the dinner table while wasps began to come in through the kitchen chandelier as we ate our meal. This was followed by a fore ray into the attic with one of the boys trying to balance across attic beams to hunt down and spray the offending wasp nest. Give thanks – really?? The only thing I knew how to do was just begin by simply obeying what I felt I had been told. “Thank you God for the wasps.” It felt really stupid, but obedience is often awkward, especially in the baby steps.

My circumstances by no means were changed. Rob was still very, very gone. I was still trying to balance what life looked like as a single parent with two boys in the house, homeschooling a daughter, and another son away at college. But something in my heart began slowly to change. Life did not seem as heavy. As I began to give thanks, my mind seemed to turn more frequently to the many positive things going on in my life and the lives of those around me. I was a little less grumpy and probably easier for the kids to live with, certainly more pleasant for my husband to hear from each day. The main difference was the peace that was seeping deeper and deeper into my soul as I focused on what I had, not what I lacked, trusting God to be good in all things that were coming our way during that season.

Who knew that six years later I would find myself in another November with my husband deployed a world away. So the challenge is once again renewed in my heart. Will I choose to obey God in His word and “in everything give thanks”? This month, I am issuing myself a challenge. I want to spend the next 30 days with an attitude of “thanksliving.” Every day, I will find at least one thing to be thankful for and write it down. Some days, it may be the obvious things like my great husband or awesome children. Some days, there may be wasps coming out of the ceiling. Whatever my day looks like, I want to choose an attitude of thanks.

Would you be willing to join me? What difference could it make in your life if you took God seriously and “in everything gave thanks”? I would like to challenge you. Grab a dollar store journal, a composition notebook or even a gum wrapper out of your purse and write down one thing each day for which you are giving thanks. Let’s see what God will do in our lives and hearts when we take Him at His word by “thanksliving.”

Walking through the Storm

2009-10-29T10:40:00.003-04:00

Confession: I am a total geek for musicals. Most of the time, the older the musical, the better I like it. Drag out the Lerner and Lowe, the Irving Berlin and especially the Rodgers and Hammerstein. I love watching characters walk around through the most dire or joyful of life circumstances and at the most improbable possible moments bursting into song. How totally unrealistic, escapist and just plain marvelous.

One of my favorite scenes in the classic Rodgers and Hammerstein’s musical “Carousel” is when a pregnant young wife named Julie (played by Shirley Jones) is comforted by her cousin Nettie after the unexpected, tragic death of her husband. Nettie sings the famous song to Julie, “You’ll Never Walk Alone.”* Meant as words of encouragement for this young grieving woman unsure of what her future now holds, the song speaks these words to her grief:

“When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high
And don’t be afraid of the dark.
At the end of the storm is a golden sky and the sweet silver song of a lark.
Walk on through the wind, walk on through the rain,
Though your dreams be tossed and blown.
Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart
And you’ll never walk alone. You’ll never walk alone.”
*music by Richard Rodgers, lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II (1945)

So lately, whether it is due to the rainstorms of our Virginia fall weather, or just observing the storms that come into life, this song has been on my mind. With all due respect to Rodgers and Hammerstein and great musical theatre, may I make an assertation? For a child of God, this song is pretty much bunk. Yet the words of it speak strongly to what is a common default mode for myself and, I believe, many of us as women.

Life is hard. Maybe in small ways, maybe in large ways. The baby will not sleep at night, the grade school child is struggling, the teenager seems like an alien who has inhabited the body of the sweet child you once knew, the adult child makes choices you cannot understand, the medical report does not bring good news, the mailbox brings unexpected bills, the phone rings with words you never wanted to hear, the military orders are not what you wanted to see, the job takes an unexpected turn, the marriage is not what you thought it would be, the nursing home calls with yet another problem with your elderly loved one – have I hit everyone somewhere in their life yet??

As women, so many of us respond with a Rodgers and Hammerstein mentality. Hold your head up high, don’t be afraid of the dark (or at least don’t even think about admitting you are afraid of the dark), and walk on. Walk on. Sounds very good on the surface. Sounds very American. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps and all of that good stuff. But, wow, how truly very dangerous.

God has graciously shown me there is only one place I need to be when the storms of life hit, small or large. And it is not with my head held high. I need to be face down on the ground before Him. Mentally, emotionally and sometimes even physically in a position of submission. This is not where my default mode takes me. Frankly, this is also not always a particularly comfortable way to handle the storms of life. When I am face down, I have to admit several things that do not roll easily off my independent minded tongue. Like the fact that I need help. That I cannot make it on my own. That my storms, no matter how small they may appear to another, are more than I can manage. It involves a lot of humility which is not a very fun place to be.

So where is the good news in this? I thought you would never ask. :)

"Unless the Lord had given me help, I would soon have dwelt in the silence of death.
When I said, 'My foot is slipping,' your love, O Lord, supported me.
When anxiety was great within me, your consolation, brought joy to my soul."
Psalm 94:17-19 (NIV)

Notice, the psalmist does not say that his circumstances have resolved themselves for a storybook happy ending. He simply says that when he admitted that his foot was slipping, God’s love and consolation brought joy to his soul. As difficult as it is to fall facedown in my heart and admit my inability to deal with my storm, when I do, God is so faithful to bring joy to my soul. Sometimes instantaneously, sometimes not. Sometimes the healing is painful, long and slow. Sometimes my circumstances reverse themselves. Many times, they do not. But the change in my heart from a soul in the storm struggling to hold its head up high to a humble submission of slipping feet is astounding.

So how about you? What is the storm in your life today? Are you, like most of us tend to do as women, struggling to hold your head up high? Why not stop right now and ask the God of the universe, who is in total control of your situation, sees your situation and knows your inability to walk on, to give you a hand? Can you right now go facedown in your heart instead of walking with your head held high? The storm and winds may contain to rage, but God is willing to bring joy to your soul in their midst.

All the Wrong Places

2009-10-07T14:54:00.002-04:00

As a young mom raising two active preschool boys, most days were filled with drama with a little d. Arguments, rambunctious activity that caused injuries or spills to be cleaned, tears, and various other dramatic scenes played themselves out during the days when our boys were young. On a few days however, we encountered drama with a large D. This was one of those days.

One of the Saturday morning activities we enjoyed from time to time was going to garage sales. The boys loved having a dollar that would bring them home some of the most interesting loot. On this particular Saturday, I had loaded up David to go with me while leaving Mark home with Rob. We had recently returned from a Tennessee visit with Rob’s family where I had contracted a nasty case of poison ivy which had required medical intervention in the form of steroids. Little d drama. As we were out shopping, I began to realize that the rising heat and humidity of Florida were not helping my poison ivy, so I decided it was time for David and me to head back home to Rob, Mark and some air conditioning. When I went to start my car, it was completely dead. Little d drama. This was in the days before we were all using cell phones, so I had to approach the home where we were shopping and ask to use their phone. Little d drama. I called Rob and asked him to pack up Mark and come and get us. When Rob arrived, he looked over the car and felt our own only option was to call a tow truck. Little d drama. When I tried to reassure him that this would work out okay and commented on his countenance looking like someone had just died, he looked me in the eyes and said, “My father did.” Now drama had a large D.

We returned home and began to make plans for going to Tennessee. Since we had just returned from a week there, we were unsure about the wisdom of packing up our preschool boys and returning with them to assist Rob’s mom and attend a funeral. Having no family living in Orlando, several members of our Sunday school class offered to share childcare for the boys so Rob and I could attend the funeral and be of some help to the family. The difficulty was that none of these families were well known to our boys or had ever kept them before. One family had no children and the other one had only one baby girl. How would they adapt to our rambunctious preschoolers? And how would the boys feel being left with these families for a week? To add to the confusion, it was the day before Mother’s day. This preschool mom did not relish the idea of spending Mother’s day without the two people who had made her a mother. What were we to do?

As Rob and I ran around the house doing laundry, trying to pack some suitcases, stopping the paper and all the other chores a family needs to complete before travel, I pleaded with God to give me wisdom about our choice. Should we leave the boys or should they stay? What was the right thing to do?

I called my mom who offered to have her and Dad meet us in Knoxville and take the boys home with them. I called some friends and asked their opinion. I asked Rob more times than he could count, “What are we going to do?” I was looking hard for wisdom, but was I looking in the right places?

By late afternoon, we had not reached a decision and our window was rapidly closing. A tad bit put out, I reminded the Lord that I had asked Him multiple times for an answer and He had obviously not given me one yet. “Lord, have you seen what time it is? I need to know something here.” Graciously and patiently, He reminded me that I had not opened His word that day. How was I to hear Him speak if I kept doing all of the talking, but none of the listening???

I knelt down by my son’s bed with my Bible. I reminded the Lord again that time was of the essence. Can you just picture Him laughing? I can. I prayed something along these lines. “Lord, I know you do not having anything in the Bible about a father’s funeral and burial, but if you could be really specific here, my addled brain would greatly appreciate it.” I opened my Bible to where I had been studying and read the next passage. Here were the words He gave to me.

Joseph threw himself upon his father and wept over him and kissed him. Then Joseph directed the physicians in his service to embalm his father Israel . . When the days of mourning had passed, Joseph said . . . . “Now let me go up and bury my father; then I will return.”

Pharaoh said, “Go up and bury your father, as he made you swear to do.”

So Joseph went up to bury his father. All Pharaoh’s officials accompanied him-the dignitaries of his court and all the dignitaries of Egypt-besides all the members of Joseph’s household and his brothers and those belonging to his father’s household. Only their children and their flocks and herds were left in Goshen.
Genesis 50: 1-2a, 4a, 5c-8 (NIV)

I came running out of the bedroom yelling at Rob, “We’re leaving the kids in Orlando!” and we began to make the necessary preparations. The boys had a wonderful week staying with friends and Rob and I were able to do what we needed to do with his family.

Though this was not the first time or the last time God has directly answered my prayers for wisdom in His word, it was one of the more dramatic times. In fact, it happened again this morning. I pleaded for answers to my little d drama only to go to His word and have Him meet me right there. So what distracts me down from going there first? Why do I tend to look in all the wrong places for answers before looking to Him? Do you struggle like I do?

I am not sure it is as important to answer why I make incorrect choices as it is to understand how I need to grasp truth that will guide me to make the correct choices. If I truly understand how completely in control God is – then I can look in the right places. If I wrap my brain around the fact that God chooses most frequently today to speak to us through the Bible, His word – then I can look in the right places. If I trust that God is a loving Father who cares more about me than I cared for those little boys around my ankle years ago – then I can look in the right places.

What do truth do you need to grasp today to help you stop looking in all the wrong places?

At My Right Hand

2009-06-09T10:43:00.002-04:00

One of my favorite pieces of equipment that we used when Libby was a baby was the infant sling. It was hard to imagine when we first began to use the sling all the advantages this piece of cloth would provide us. Life with a baby was very different when Libby came along because we had two boys in elementary school. Our activities could not stop because of the baby’s schedule, so she had to quickly adapt to whatever the need of the moment was in their lives. Did we spend quiet mornings cuddling and nursing her when she first woke up? No, more often we were pulling her out of her crib, throwing her in her car seat (often still wearing a wet diaper) and nursing her while sitting in a lawn chair at the soccer field, very thankful for the wonderful privacy of a baby sling. As she grew older Libby enjoyed riding in the sling like a kangaroo baby. She would sit with her legs crossed, back next to me and have a wonderful view of the world while still feeling safe being swaddled next to her mom.

For all the advantages the infant sling gave in raising a baby, one of my favorite aspects of the sling was the freedom it gave me to do other things with my hands. While Libby was securely swaddled against me in whatever position was comfortable for the moment and situation, I had still had two free hands. As the mother of two young sons this was helpful and important. As the mother of Mark, it was critical.

Mark was very active and often impulsive as a youngster. Having a free hand in order to hold onto him helped to avoid numerous disasters, both large and small. When we crossed the street, I did not have to worry about him running in front of cars. When we walked in the afternoon after a Central Florida thunderstorm, I could lift his feet over the puddles, instead of watching him drag his tennis shoes through them. As we watched Rob play softball, I could stop him from running out on the field to join the game. The baby sling provided the free hands I needed in order to provide Mark the safety and support he needed in that season of his life.

When I remember those days of carrying Libby while reaching down to grab Mark’s right hand and support him, I also see a beautiful picture of what my heavenly Father does for me.

I have set the Lord always before me.
Because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken.
Psalm 16:8

When my Father is holding my hand, numerous disasters, both large and small, can be avoided. He will keep me from running out into danger. He will lift me up when I am tempted to drag my feet through the mud puddles of life. He will even graciously hold me back when I want to join a game that was never designed for my level of play.

There is one key difference between my Father’s holding of my hand though, and my holding of Mark’s hand those many years ago. Mark held my hand by my choice, whether that was his decision of the moment or not. Often he had other plans and other ideas, but Mom’s hand usually won out. My Father does not reach down and grab my hand against my will. He waits for me to choose to hold His hand, to set Him always before me. I have to first make a decision to trust His wisdom instead of my own decisions or perceived skills.

So how about you? Are you finding yourself today dashing into dangerous streets, strolling through mud puddles or playing in games not meant for you? Are you willing to let go of your own abilities and/or desires to “set the Lord always before you?” Are you tired of feeling shaken? The Father waits patiently, anxious to assist you. The moment you reach out, you will find him willing and ready, at your right hand.

Getting My Way

2009-05-15T09:44:00.004-04:00

Rob and I have had the privilege of raising three very independent people. From a young age, though vastly different in personal temperaments, each was known to utter loud proclamations of, “I do it myself!” Like most toddlers and preschoolers, they wanted to get their way, when they wanted it and how they wanted it.

One such incident from Libby’s childhood comes to memory. Libby and Rob had come to meet me at the airport. When I spotted them in sight, I also heard a fairly dramatic tantrum coming out of my very young daughter. Thinking I would be clever, I approached Rob as if he were a total stranger. Speaking loud enough that those around could hear me I announced, “I am so sorry sir. It must be difficult having such an ill-behaved child.” Being quick witted, my husband looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Yes, unfortunately she is exactly like her mother.” Ouch.

Sadly, Rob’s quick witted response was far too accurate. I do want to get my own way. And I often find myself the ill-behaved child when I do not get it. Fortunately, my choices have matured through the years. I no longer have a fit because I cannot have a treat when I want it (at least most of the time). My desires of today lend themselves to a more serious nature.

I find myself wanting to get my way concerning those that I love and care about. I want their lives to be free of pain. When the report comes from the doctor, I want the news to be good. When the results come back from the job interview, I want to see them hired. Let the mechanic say the automobile will be just fine; it only needs a small, inexpensive adjustment. I want the teacher to say the child is succeeding marvelously in school, not struggling and failing. If the phone must ring at three a.m., let it be to herald good news. How about the military saying, “All is safe, everyone go home.”?

In spite of my wants and desires, this is not the world I encounter each day. The doctor’s news is not always good. People end up without work. Phones ring late in the night and not for happy tidings. Cars die, children struggle and our military is not resting safely at home. Where is God when all these things come to pass? If my aims have matured, why can’t I get my way? How do I deal with these disappointments? Am I doomed to become the ill behaved child?

The subject of why God allows pain has been written about by much more knowledgeable sources than I. These two simple truths from the Bible help me when that question arises in my mind.

The Lord has established His throne in heaven and
His kingdom rules over all.
Psalm 103:19 (NIV)

For He does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men.
Lamentations 3:33 (NIV)

The truths that God is both in control and about my good bring me peace when the world around me seems to be falling apart. Mature aims or not, I do not need to get my way. Memo to my slow learning brain – I am not in control because I do not need to be. My control equals disaster for all concerned.

In order to deal with disappointments without becoming the ill behaved child, I need more truth. I need to know there is some greater purpose to the pain I see all around.

Moreover [let us also be full of joy now!] let us exult and triumph in our troubles and rejoice in our sufferings, know that pressure and affliction and hardship produce patient and unswerving endurance. And endurance (fortitude) develops maturity of character (approve faith and tried integrity). And character [of this sort] produces [the habit of] joyful and confident hope of eternal salvation.
Romans 5: 3-4 (AMP)

I love the description of this endurance in "The Message" translation of the Bible – passionate patience. Not being one given to waiting quietly, this description gives room to the idea that I can wait on God expectantly, busy with hope, even when things around me are not going my way. These trials, which range from inconvenient to devastating, are roadways to habits I want to see developed in my life and the lives of those I love. Would I choose these things? No. Can God work good out of them? Absolutely.

How do I know? I have seen Him do it. Not once. Not twice. Actually, more times than I can count. God has evidenced to me over and over again in my life and the lives of others that He is the Master at weaving beauty out of enormous pain and ugliness. Are you not getting your way today? Keep your eyes peeled and look for the beauty God is weaving amidst your pain.

Does Anyone Really Know What Time It Is?

2009-05-06T12:19:00.002-04:00

Becoming lost and confused over what the time of day is at any given moment or season is one of my particular gifts. When my loved ones are away and in different time zones, I often confuse whether they are an hour or two behind or ahead, tripping up not just over the math, but the entire concept. Consequently, Daylight Savings time presents a similar quandary for me each year. Is it time to spring forward or fall back? When we get up in the morning, the clock will say 5:30 a.m. Does that mean my body will think it is 4:30 a.m. or 6:30 a.m.? On the questions roll through my mind making me doubt my abilities with basic math functions. This year was no exception.

Spring forward weekend found me enjoying a truly awesome time with two other girlfriends at a women’s retreat. Kay Arthur was the speaker and she came each session with a challenging message from the truth of God’s word. On Saturday night, the conference organizers informed us that the clocks in our hotel rooms would automatically reset themselves for daylight savings time. When we went to bed, I set the alarm on my cell phone. The next morning when my alarm went off, I noticed there was a discrepancy between my cell phone time and the time on the room clock. I was perplexed as to why my phone had not caught up like the hotel clock, but decided to move on with the morning ignoring the time on my phone. I explained what had happened to my roommates before I headed off for a few quiet minutes by the lake before breakfast. I promised to get us spots at a table so we could enjoy a leisurely breakfast before checking out of the hotel and attending the final conference session. When I made my way to the breakfast area, I congratulated my often time challenged self on actually arriving ten minutes before breakfast was to begin. Imagine my surprise when I found the ballroom already crowded with women. When I finally asked someone why everyone had arrived so early, a lady responded, “Early? They are closing the breakfast buffet in ten minutes.” Suddenly, the light broke through to me. My cell phone had been correct all along. Due to an error in our room clock and my confirming misinformation, my roommates and I were all one hour behind.

You can imagine the scene of flying suitcases and slight panic when we realized we were totally unprepared for the morning, all now finding ourselves running one hour behind. I felt like a total dolt having told my girlfriends that our room clock was correct when in fact it was wrong. We thought we were on track, but in truth, we had no idea what time it really was.

The similarity between our time confused situation and what Kay taught us from God’s word during the weekend was striking. Kay started the weekend with a verse from 1 Chronicles:

men of Issachar, who understood the times and
knew what Israel should do.
I Chronicles 12:32a (NIV)

Kay continued to teach throughout the weekend about our responsibility to know God’s word so that we can understand the times in which we are living and know what to do. Kay is not the only one sounding the alarm that we may be walking in the last days. It is easy sometimes for us to think, “Well, I have never really understood the book of Revelation anyway, so I will just leave all of that end times stuff to people more knowledgeable than I. “ However, Jesus said:

Now learn this lesson from the fig tree; As soon as its twigs get tender and its leaves come out, you know that summer is near. Even so, when you see all these things, you know that it is near, right at the door.
Matthew 24:32-33 (NIV)

Basically, if we can tell the difference between winter and spring, we can observe the signs that Jesus’ coming is near.

So how do I know what to do once I read God’s word and know the times? What difference does that make in my daily life? For me, it means I need to be more focused on what the Father has for me to do each day than my own agenda. I have to take the time to stop and hear His voice. I need to be focused on His priorities, rather than distracted by my own. No, I do not plan to give up doing laundry to go stand on a street corner in D.C. with a sign saying, “The End is Near.” However, can I forget about finishing my “to do” list today to be available to someone who needs to hear that Jesus cares about them? Can I be bold in sharing with those I meet that there is a God who loves them and sent His Son to redeem them? When conversations begin drifting towards fear concerning the economy, the swine flu, or any other number of current issue panics, will I share the hope that I have for my future because it is safe with Jesus Christ?

As I learned during “spring forward” weekend, not knowing what time it really is can cause problems for me and those around me. Today, I want to be conscious of the correct time and act accordingly. Father, please show us all how to live by your watch . . . . . the one that always knows what time it really is.

Precious

2009-03-06T09:44:00.002-05:00

In Washington, D. C., everything is about access. In most parts of the world, access behind closed doors is achieved through who you know, what you own or maybe even how you are dressed. Washington lives on a different currency. Access in this town is all about that little piece of plastic normally hanging from a lanyard around your neck - your i.d. badge.

It is amazing how quickly doors open and closed based on what your piece of plastic says about you. Rob has multiple ones which he uses based on what he is doing at any given moment. On the other hand, the only plastic card I own which grants me access behind otherwise closed doors is the military i.d. which Rob’s military service has entitled me to carry.

Not one day of my life have I served in the United States military. However, I can drive to the local fort, meet the armed guards at the entrance, flash my little piece of plastic and the gates open for me to enter. What did I have to do to get my piece of plastic? Well, besides saying “I do” to that cute man many years ago and spending some time in the military i.d. office waiting my turn, not very much. Rob accepted the commission in the United States Navy. Rob has served for twenty eight years. Rob has gone overseas, spent Christmas day doing paperwork in an office alone, and found himself in places I would never have the nerve to go. Rob even had to get the paperwork filled out and the proper signatures acquired for me to even go sit in the military office for my piece of plastic.

Yet, when I go on base, I am granted access, just like Rob is, to places I otherwise could not go. At the commissary, at the px, even at the swimming pool, they let me in when they see the plastic. Plastic I did not earn, plastic that is only mine because of my relationship with Rob, the one who truly pays the price for my access.

For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers, but with the
precious blood of Christ,
A lamb without blemish or defect.
1 Peter 1:18-19

While the access granted to me by my military piece of plastic is indeed interesting, it pales in comparison to the access given to me by “the precious blood of Christ.” The Bible tells me that on my own, I am hopelessly lost and cut off from any kind of relationship with God. He is Holy. I am so not. I rarely even have to get through my morning tea before my words, thoughts or actions remind me of this truth.

Through a process I will probably never fully grasp or even come close to understanding though, I have been granted access to God. Christ’s blood spilled out on the cross is the payment required for me to have a relationship with the God of the universe. Christ took my sin, so God could then look on me and smile. And here is just one of the many amazing things to me about this concept. God pursued this whole process for me. All I had to do to get my military i.d. was basically agree to show up, accept the paperwork Rob had prepared for me and have my picture taken. In much the same fashion, all I have to do to earn my access to God is accept the work Christ has already done for me. Believe in, rely on and trust the “precious blood of Christ.”

So how about you? Would you like access to all that is yours in a personal relationship with the God of the universe? This is the good news. He has already done all the work. He has paid the price, served the time and gotten the paperwork. If you already have your access, thank Him again today for the sacrifice He made to give it to you. If not, why not go get your access right now? He is ever waiting, paperwork stamped with the “precious blood of Christ,” just for you.

Gold

2009-02-26T10:59:00.002-05:00

Recently, I went on a little search to learn more about gold. It is a very popular internet topic. Wanting to learn more about the processes surrounding this element, I watched YouTube videos, read articles and learned several facts I had not known about it.

Gold is considered a precious metal. Sought after since ancient times, it is highly valued in our society; its value one of the most frequently watched predictors of world economic conditions. Gold usually is found mixed in with other metals, but can be reduced to its purest form through a process of refining. The refining process most frequently involves using extreme heat to separate the gold from other metals. There seems to be some debate, even between scientific minds, as to whether or not gold can be heated to the point at which it evaporates. Affected very little by either oxygen or water, it is considered to be one of the most durable of all metals.

So here is the nugget which started my search about gold:

In this you greatly rejoice,
though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials.
These have come so that your faith - of greater worth than gold,
which perishes even though refined by fire –
may be proved genuine
and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.
1 Peter 1:6-7 (NIV)

First question: Even scientists seem to debate whether or not gold can be evaporated, so why does the Bible talk about it perishing? I read one article that suggested the passage in 1 Peter chapter 1 is talking about the fact that the Bible tells us eventually everything on earth will perish.

“Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.”
Matthew 24:35

Jesus talked about the earth perishing. One day, all that we know on this planet will be gone. Even the gold, that scientists now debate its destructibility, will eventually be gone. But the Bible tells us that something will be left behind. Our faith.

Second question: The Bible acknowledges the worth assigned by the world to gold, how does that really compare to intangibles like faith? Gold is a very valuable substance in our world. You may be picturing objects which can be enjoyed, but affect little change in our world such as pretty jewelry, etc. Yet, gold can be used as currency to affect serious change such as feeding the hungry or providing fresh water wells in countries where children die of water borne illnesses. The value of gold we can get our brains around, but sometimes placing a value on our faith is not so easy. So Peter compares a substance we can understand with one we may know little about. Gold, the substance we do understand, is a very valuable one. But the Bible tells us there is something more valuable than gold: Our faith.

Third question: Gold’s refinement occurs in fire – very hot fire. I do not sleep very well if the temperature in our house gets above the mid-seventies. So how do I find peace, or even learn to rest and sleep, in the midst of the fires (trials) that come into my life? What happens when the heat gets turned up in our lives? Refinement occurs in gold under fire. Refinement of our character can also occur under fire. The Bible tells us what is ultimately refined in trials: Our faith.

What is our faith? It is nothing more and nothing less than our living, breathing relationship with the God of the universe. It is our simple acceptance of His son Jesus’ death on the cross as payment for our sins and turning over of our life to Him. All we have to do is ask Him. It is becoming a part of His family. Being adopted. Becoming His princess.

Gold had a lot to teach me this week. Many of the things I now hold valuable are not lasting, but my faith is lasting. More valuable than anything I own or treasure is being a part of God’s family – His princess. My relationship with Him, my faith, will become even stronger when it is refined in the fiery trials that are a real part of life in this world. What today, my friend, is God wanting to teach you?

A Free Cup of Coffee

2009-02-09T09:13:00.002-05:00

Ever had one of those mornings? You wake up with the intention of having a positive outlook, reacting to things in a godly fashion, excited about the day, but before you finish blow drying your hair or even have a cup of coffee – things go downhill. Maybe it is an email you receive, maybe the disaster you found in the kitchen, maybe just the smallest thing or the largest, but suddenly, you find yourself in a place that is not happy, to say the least.

I was having one of those mornings. A combination of issues, large and small, starting mushrooming in my brain and by the time we pulled out of the driveway, I was in tears. Rob patiently listened all the way to his office, in spite of having much weightier matters on his own agenda, held my hand and assured me of his support. But I could not shake the cloud.

Often when I feel this way, writing is a way to process my thoughts and feelings. So, in my cloud, I began to think about taking some time to write. Writing is something that is often difficult for me at home. While the keys of the computer pull at my heart, the demands of 21st century life tend to pull at my mind. Distraction being a major issue for me, I have found that getting away somewhere, even if it is crowded or noisy, will often allow my brain the peace to focus on what I am writing.

One of my favorite spots I what I call my “McDonald’s office.” Pull into Mickey D’s and I can find coffee and Wifi, a great combination for getting some writing done. So knowing I had some time before my next destination, I stopped at McDonald’s to find some peace and maybe a little lift for my clouded spirit. I wanted to email a couple of friends to ask them to pray for me and search for some words from God for myself.

That’s when it happened. I went to the counter and saw a beautiful smiling lady named Amber. She greeted me warmly and asked what I wanted. I ordered my usual cup of coffee as I got out my billfold. She smiled and said, “Oh – then you don’t owe anything. Coffee before 9am is free.” Smiling again, she handed me my cup and wished me a nice day. And I heard His voice.

No, it was not audible. No, there were no bolts of lightning or choirs singing. But it was as real to me as any of those things. The voice of my Father said, “I see you. I know you are struggling. Your struggles matter to me. Enjoy your free cup of coffee. I love you.”

Some of you, by now, are definitely snickering. Right – a free cup of McDonald’s coffee is from God? But honestly, when was the last time you were struggling and just needed to know that someone larger than you, someone who was actually in a place to affect change for you and those you love, noticed your struggles? In those moments, what would you give for a real kernel of love and affection, peace and power? Sounds like a tall order, but that is exactly what God gave me in that cup of coffee.

Yes, I now understand that apparently McDonalds has a promotion this month giving away free coffee before 9am. Yes, my cup of coffee did not change one iota of any actual reality in any situation over which I was concerned. But here is my truth. I have a Father who loves me. And He hurts when I hurt. And just as I strive to “make it all better” when I see my children hurting, He reaches out in love to me.

Some will call it rationalization. Some will call it psychosis. Some will brush it off as another blogger sharing too much of the boring details of their daily life. But some will look beyond and see a Father that loves me and how about that – might just love them as much too. Which “some” will you be today?

Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from Him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation; He is my fortress,
I will not be shaken.
Psalm 62:5-6 (NIV)

The Real Thing

2009-01-28T10:29:00.003-05:00

We recently had some favorite friends come to visit. To say that these ladies are troublemakers would be an understatement, but boy do we have fun when they arrive. Their recent visit was scheduled so that they could get a look at the White House all decorated for Christmas. When we started placing their luggage in our car though, I noticed they had brought something extra along. In the words of my twenty-four year old son, “Mom, please tell me we do not have a cardboard cutout of our president in the back of the car.” Yes, my friends had brought a life-sized cardboard photo of President George H. W. Bush.

On the day of the much anticipated White House tour, we met downtown with George in the back seat. After the tour, they brought him into the White House Visitor’s Center to surprise a friend. What happened next was really interesting. As they began to make photos of themselves and the cutout next to a replica White House Christmas tree, a small group began to gather. Complete strangers began asking if they could have their picture made next to the cutout. George was soon packed up and taken to the gate in front of the White House south lawn for more photo ops. Again, total strangers wanted to have their photo with the cutout. We laughed until we cried. How could a piece of cardboard create such excitement?

Is it not amazing how in our culture today, we are often more excited over replicas than the real thing? Sometimes I think we are such a media saturated culture that we relate more easily to an image than to reality. Have you ever been in an auditorium using large screen projections of a speaker and found yourself looking at the screen instead of the speaker – even when you were close enough to see the real thing? I know I have.

There is one particular area in life where we must be ever vigilant that we do not let image take the place of the real thing. Our relationship with God must be based not on images or replicas. We cannot latch onto the faith of our parents or grandparents, spouses or friends. We must not hang onto the ideas of a pastor or the thoughts of a good teacher. Our relationship with God must be a real, vital, personal, living thing with the Creator of the universe.

So how does that look in daily life? What does that mean as I go through the normal routines of my average days? For me, it is about whether or not I am thinking about Him, talking with Him, and spending time in His word allowing it to transform my mind. My real relationship with God looks different from day to day, just like my relationship with my husband has not been the same each day over the past twenty plus years. Some days, we talk a lot. Some days, we do not. Some days, I read His word a lot. Some days, I do not. What does it mean for you?

My relationship with God, through Jesus Christ, is meant to be a living thing. Just like all relationships, it will have ebbs and flows, based on my current moods, disciplines, etc. Thank goodness, there is no ebb and flow in Christ. The Bible tells me He is the same yesterday, today and forever. And that my friend is the real thing.

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.
Hebrews 13:8 (NIV)

Where is my security?

2008-12-06T16:13:00.002-05:00

Cell phones are a wonderful invention - when they are not lost, ringing at the wrong place and time, or broken. Recently, it was brought to my attention just how strong my love/hate relationship has become with these strange little devices which have so powerfully changed our world.

Mark was due to come home for an appointment with the orthopedic surgeon. At the arts university he attends, classes are held at a variety of hours during the day and night, so his last class before we could leave was scheduled to run until 10pm. Since Mark could not drive with his broken bones, Rob was away on business and David was working, this meant six hundred miles of driving for me until 3 in the morning. Knowing my ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat, I decided to leave early and catch a few zzz’s in Mark’s room before time to turn around and come back to Virginia. Ah, the best laid plans. . .

When it was time to leave my home, I double checked my purse for the cell phone that had been in it at 6:30 that morning when I took Libby to the bus. Strangely enough, it was not there. I began to look some of the other places I often leave the phone, only to come up empty handed. I used the house phone to call my cell phone, only to remember that I had placed the phone on silent the night before during Libby’s rehearsal and had probably never changed the setting back. So no matter how many times I called the phone and ran around the house listening for even some faint vibrating sound, no electronic buzzing was heard. Slowly, I began to feel a bit of panic rising in my throat. It was time to leave. I needed my phone. After praying and asking God to show me where the phone was, I resumed my search, confident I would soon be successful. That was not the case.

My mind began to rationalize all the reasons it was critical God show me exactly where this cell phone was located in my home. As the mom, I am the central coordinator for our family. Often scattered across the southeastern United States, they usually each call me to figure what out what is going on with everyone else. I knew with my phone out of commission, no one would know exactly where I was and several of them would be trying to contact me. What if my car broke down? How would I get help? When I arrived at NCSA, Mark was going to be out and about campus. I would have no way to get into his room to sleep if I could not locate him. Without a cell phone, we could be missing each other all over campus for quite some time.

When my mind stopping rehearsing all its human reasoning, the still small voice of God began to speak quietly into my heart. “Where is your security? Do you trust that little piece of metal to care for you or do you trust me?” My response was not exactly humble obedience and repentance. This one would not easily let go of me.

“God, it is only a phone. Could you please just show it to me so I don’t have to freak out my family?” It was very quiet. There was no phone to be found. With the clock ticking away, I had to get on the road sans the now seemingly precious piece of metal.

The summary of the story is this. Some of my family did freak out thinking some of the worst possible things could have happened to me. They quickly adapted though and began to help each other without my assistance. Mark left his room unlocked for me and I was able to take a nap before getting back on the road. We made it back home safely where David had found my phone in a pile of clothing I had moved in the early morning hours (a fact which had completely escaped my brain during my search). The phone crisis was over, but I had at least heard a lesson which I knew needed to be addressed.

Where exactly is my security? If I truly believe God is sovereign, that He alone controls my destiny, then why the panic? How dependent have I become on the things of this world for my protection? There is truth that needs to realign my brain with God’s way of thinking.

This is God's Word on the subject: "As soon as Babylon's seventy years are up and not a day before, I'll show up and take care of you as I promised and bring you back home. I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for.
Jeremiah 29:10 (The Message)

Ultimately, God is in control. He decides my future. He is and should be my security. Whether it be my losing my cell phone, losing my position or many other possible scenarios which are much more serious, my faith and trust can only be safely placed in the arms of my Father. Where is your security today?

Having a Good Time

2008-11-20T10:45:00.003-05:00

My children are very aware of a strange, but consistent phenomenon that happens around our house in the early morning hours after Halloween. I excitedly race around our house gathering up every vestige of black cats and jack-o-lanterns to quickly replace them with turkeys and pilgrims. True confession – not being a big fan of Halloween, I am in fact a Thanksgiving freak. I just love November. The fall pumpkins are still beautiful, the leaves are falling from the trees and everywhere I see reminders of being thankful (at least in my house – the stores only seems to carry Christmas decorations at this time of the year!).

There is one other key factor that causes my elation each year when the calendar rolls over to display November. I know that it is only a few short weeks until we get to celebrate one of the most special times on our family calendar each year – Dowell Thanksgiving. Twenty-five years ago this year, we began gathering as a family to stay together somewhere in the Southeast and celebrate a week of food and fun. Living in different states across the South, this is the one time each year we are all able to be together. Rob’s mom, who we affectionately call Deedah, her five children, their spouses, their children and now even their grandchildren spend five days and four nights eating and playing. When we began twenty-five years ago, Deedah had three grandchildren. Now she has eight grandchildren and three great grandchildren.

Nobody knows how to have a good time like the Dowell family. It is loud, boisterous and filled with laughter. There are only a couple of hours on the clock each day when the entire house is asleep with teens and twenty-somethings playing games until the wee hours and the forty plus generation rising early to cook breakfast and bang around in the kitchen. Competition is a key component of our time together whether we are screaming at the football game on television or loudly debating any issue one might want to imagine. There are normally 8 to 10 conversations going on at once, even when there are only 6 people in the room. Practical jokes are played, charade and poker games won and lost and more butter consumed than should be eaten by a small nation. The Dowells are just plain fun.

My children have grown up in this tradition. They love it. For one week each year, we have pulled away from the demands of life to enjoy the family God has given us on this earth. Many times I have watched as my three had to do hours of homework and makeup work because of the school time they missed. Often they found themselves trying to explain to angry directors why they were missing so many rehearsals. Yet, if ever questioned about why we were pulling them out for this week, I always replied that my children often learned more in these few days with the Dowells than in a month of school.

I think sometimes, as a generation living in the 21st century, we have forgotten how to have a good time. We are so busy achieving, so busy reaching that next goal, so we can reach the next one and then reach the next one, marching on to a distant imagined prize or outcome. As parents, we often begin building our children’s ladders to success at an early age. We strive to keep them on “the master plan” in order to see that they become all they can be. But what has happened to just plain having a good time?

A time to weep and a time to laugh,
A time to mourn and a time to dance. Ecclesiastes 3:4 (NIV)

It may sound silly, but I like to think that week we spend with the Dowells is kind of like what it might be like in heaven. No, our family is not perfect, nor do we fly around with angel wings. But, the fun, the laughter, the enjoying of food and games together, just fit into my picture of what our eternity will be like with Jesus. A place of love, a place of acceptance, a place removed from the fear and anxiety of this world. A place I want to be. A place Jesus invited all of us to be. A place to have a good time.

Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him and he with me.
Revelation 3:20 (NIV)

The Elastic Den

2008-11-13T12:59:00.004-05:00

At the parents’ meeting for the middle school musical Libby was participating in this past winter, the typical volunteer sign-up sheets were touted with the usual “we can’t do this without your help” speech. Knowing my complete lack of sewing talent (thereby eliminating me from the costume crew), my daughter’s desire to not have me backstage during the performances (there goes the stage parent list) and my struggles with even getting my own makeup on correctly (elimination – makeup committee), I signed on quickly to host the cast party. I estimated that at least I knew how to open the front door of my home. Later, it was the look on my husband’s face when I answered his question about the size of the cast (about 70 students) that reminded me that we might have some space issues in our beautiful Northern Virginia home. Being a terrific host and dad, he quickly smiled and assured me it would be fine. After all, they wouldn’t really all show up – would they?

Having raised two other children who had been involved with theatre, we knew that a group of drama kings and queens can rival any sports team with their activity level. Not wanting to see groups of seventh and eighth graders go hang out in our bedrooms for the evening, we realized we needed a plan. Theater kids love few things more than the opportunity to reprise their stage roles. We decided one activity for the evening would be to run a DVD version of the musical the students had just performed. Our 10’ by 15’ den was to be the gathering spot for this particular activity.

As the students began to arrive, it became obvious that watching, laughing and singing along with the DVD was the activity of first choice for the majority of the cast. On a typical evening in our home, you can comfortably seat three to five people in our den. For opening Christmas presents with family, we added chairs from the kitchen and actually squeezed eleven of us in for a brief time. Yet, on the evening of the cast party, teenagers started pouring into our den like ants at a picnic. At one point, Rob counted almost forty of them squeezed into the den which seemed to suddenly have walls of elastic. They laughed, they sang and they had a blast – all sandwiched in on top of one another. If you had told me in advance, I would have sworn the den could never hold so many middle schoolers. But on this night, the walls truly seemed to be made of elastic.

Isn’t that just like God’s love?

Every so often, I seem to pull another stunt which causes me to wonder if I have not finally done it. This time, my mind reasons, I have pushed God’s love right to the edge. I have really messed up. This will be the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. Yet that is never the case. Is this true because I am so special, He just continues to love me? No, He continues to love me because He is Love.

God is love.
1 John 4:16b (NIV)

Isn’t that just like God’s truth?

Viewing the Bible as God’s word is a truth that seems to be pushed against from all sides in our culture. Every so often, there is a new scientific discovery which seems to disprove God’s word. Sometimes there are archeological finds that appear to conflict in time with the Bible’s account of events. Each year the bookstore displays work from a new “scholar” who touts the evils of religion noting that God is nothing more than man’s trumped up imagination. Yet for all these occurrences, God’s word never changes. His truth continues to stand – whole and unbent in spite of tidal waves of change in human culture and discovery. Do I know this because I am a Bible scholar? No, it is because He can be trusted. His word is true.

“I the Lord do not change.”
Malachi 3:6a (NIV)

Isn’t that just like God’s relationship with us?

God wants to place elastic in the walls of our relationship with Him. As women, this can be scary as we sometimes envision anyone coming towards us with expansion on their minds as just wanting more of our already stretched time, energy and emotions. It is not our Father’s desire to involve us in more activities for the sake of expansion. He wants to expand our relationship with Him. As we grow closer to Him, He will suddenly expand the room to hold more of Him. Does He do this because I have performed the right number of steps to be promoted? No, He does it because He is a God who actively seeks out each and every one of us.

For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost.
Luke 19:10 (NIV)

At Libby’s cast party, my den surprised us. It held elastic within its walls I never knew was there. Every day, I love being surprised by the elasticity of God. Just when I think I have reached capacity . . . . .

His love
His truth
His relationship

The elastic appears and they get a little bigger.

Leaf Geeks

2008-11-07T09:46:00.003-05:00

The Dowell family would not qualify as early morning people. Libby has to be at the bus every weekday by 6:35am and Rob usually leaves for work around the same time. This not being our preferred hour of the day, we usually all function around the house in silence. A kiss goodbye and “I love you,” are about the best we can manage some mornings. This morning, however, was different. We were all riding in the car together when we began talking about how beautiful the leaves were all around us. Excitedly, we would point out to one another when we spotted a particularly beautiful tree, bush or hillside. The conversation was animated and definitely unusual for our bunch at that hour. Here is the cold hard truth. We are leaf geeks.

Maybe it was the twenty years in Florida without autumn color changes that sealed our fate. Maybe it was Rob and I’s childhood spent in the beautiful state of Tennessee where trees are everywhere. Maybe, we just have nothing better to do. Whatever the reason, we love to gawk and marvel at what happens to trees in the fall.

When I returned home this morning there was a long list of things that needed to be done. After tackling one or two, where did I find myself? I was on the back patio, taking pictures of leaves in our backyard. I know, the geek factor just shot up considerably. Truly, could I not get something accomplished on my list? (Do these voices speak to anyone else but me??) But may I share with you what happened to me in those moments when I was “getting nothing done”?

Suddenly, I found myself weeping. I was just overcome. Here is the truth I do not think my heart will ever understand as I long as I live on this earth. How could a God who created such beauty have any interest whatsoever in me? I mean, these leaves are spectacular. They are so gorgeous. And the reality is that no matter how many new clothes I buy, how much weight I lose or how many cosmetics I buy, I am not. Please do not misunderstand. I am not being falsely modest or lacking in self esteem. I can certainly dress myself up and look perfectly presentable to the world. The thought that made me cry this morning, is that my Father sees deep into my heart. And in there, things are so not pretty.

So why does He love me? Why does He even bother to turn my way? I truly have no clue. The truth I want to hang onto today is – He does. He does love me. He does turn to me.

And so we know and rely on the love God has for us.
I John 4:16a (NIV)

He loves me. He really, really loves me. The Creator of the universe, who made beautiful leaves which change color in the fall, loves me. This is a truth that can change my life. It can change my heart. It can change the way I treat others each day. Rude driver cuts me off – no problem, He loves me. Angry family member – no problem, He loves me. Others making decisions around me which highly impact my life, but over which I have zero control – no problem, He loves me. Concerned about the stock market or the future of our country – no problem, He loves me. If I truly understand the truth that the God who paints beautiful leaves in my backyard also loves me completely, it will change the way I live my daily life. I think that is what John was talking about when he said we know and rely on the love God has for us.

So where is your heart today? Many of you are facing obstacles and challenges that far surpass rude drivers and market volatility. Do you know that the Creator who paints the leaves loves you completely? If you do not, please ask Him to show you. If you maybe had just forgotten in the craziness that is life in the 21st century, please stop for a moment and remember. For today, know and rely on the love He has for you.

I Do it Myself

2008-10-30T14:37:00.002-04:00

Children come with different personalities. Having three of them, Rob and I have had the opportunity to see many varied facets of humanity. One thread seemed to run common in all of our children though. While some children seem to be easily corrected, falling into quick submission with the least word or glance, ours seemed to have a very different view of reality. Not one of ours responded quickly or easily to correction. The slight glances of disapproval that would send other children into tears did not faze our brood. They were an independent, strong willed bunch. By the time they had reached the age of two, frequent cries rang through the house of “I do it myself!” Independence was the watchword for our children.

While this theme was especially apparent in the preschool years, it continued to persist in their personalities as they grew older with some very interesting results. One particular incident has become one of those family stories we recite repeatedly. David was a young elementary school aged boy when I went to put him to bed one night. He had a lamp right over the head of his bed that he enjoyed using for reading at night. As I turned on the light that particular evening, smoke began pouring out of the socket. Frightened, I grabbed David out of harm’s way and yelled for Rob. Rob was able to stop the smoking before it became a full- fledged fire, but was puzzled as to what the cause was of our obviously damaged lamp. I must admit, I was spooked. This lamp was right over my baby’s head! What if he had turned it on when he was alone? What if it had sparked to a fire burning David and our home to the ground?

I began to notice that David seemed curious, yet not at all frightened by this chain of events. When we began to talk with him, he answered in very calm tones. David explained to us that his light bulb had gone out. In an effort to “recharge” the bulb, he had placed aluminum foil and lemon juice down in the light socket. In typical Dowell child fashion, David had seen the problem and addressed it on his own. No need to ask for help. He had it covered.

Our children were not born with these personalities in a vacuum. It seems as if the blending of Rob’s personality and my personality presents a universal trait of stubborn independence. No need to ask for help. I have got it covered. “I do it myself.”

It was easy to see the danger that had been invited into our home when this child decided, “I do it myself.” But what happens when I make that choice, as an adult, in my own life? For me, this frequently looks like me telling the Father, “No problem. I got this one covered. You are busy running the whole world. Let me take some of the burden off of your shoulders. I can deal with this.” This sounds like the adult solution right? As an American, should I not be all about independence and self-reliance? Isn’t this the mature, adult response to my situation? The reality is, I might as well be two years old, stamping my feet and screaming, “I do it myself.”

What danger does my seeming “independence” bring into my life? The list is limitless. However, the most frequent consequence in my life seems to be a burnout/emotional meltdown because I have taken tasks onto my own shoulders which my Father never meant for me to carry. He is well aware of my limits. He completely understands my lack of knowledge regarding a solution to my difficulties. Ever the gentleman though, he will not steal the burden from my shoulders. He waits for me to decide to lay it down.

Today, I would rather not be a screaming two year old. I want to approach my Father and ask Him to show me what burdens I am struggling with that He never meant for me to carry. I would love to replace the cries in my heart of “I do it myself!” with “Father, carry this for me.”

“Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
Matthew 11:28 (NIV)

Scared to Sacred

2008-10-08T10:28:00.000-04:00

One of our three children had a consistent struggle as a child. This child was scared of almost anything new and different. Though this child has walked away from this particular struggle and is now leading the pack in a life of new and different, during their childhood, this struggle presented quite a problem. Almost every time there was a new school, a new class, a different worker in the nursery or anything out of their everyday routine, fear would quickly set in. Rob and I began to realize what was going on and look for solutions. One of the techniques that was most effective for us was to be able to touch this child when they were faced with a new situation. If we could just keep a hand on them, the fear seemed to calm and it became easier for the child to walk forward into the unknown.
As an adult, one of the ways I have learned to process my emotions is by writing things down on paper. I do not understand how it works, but when I place my thoughts on paper, things will often become easier for me to understand. Things sometimes appear on the page that I did not even know were in my mind or heart. Writing has also become an easy way for me to talk to the Father about what is going on in my life. As He listens and I process, He often shows me truth I have been unable to see.
As I was recently writing to process several circumstances that had arisen in our lives, my emotions began to flow, as they often do. True confession – I am a major sappy crier. As I wrote, the truth came up in my heart, “I am scared.” When I went to write the word “scared” however, I suddenly blanked on how to spell it. Am I the only one who does this? One minute I am a cognizant, literate adult, the next minute, I cannot spell scared. As I wrestled in my brain, “Is it scared or sacred?,” I realized it only required the switching of two letters for “scared” to become “sacred.” That is when my precious Father held my hand and began to share truth with me.

1. My emotions are safe with my Father. It is my basic nature, when challenges arrive, to suck it up and push through. I can be very gifted at stuffing my emotions into a place where I feel they will no longer bother me or be a distraction to me or those around me. After all, there are mountains to climb, battles to fight – right? However, for me, eventually, my walls will crumble and the emotions will roll in like an ocean wave in advance of a Florida hurricane. All the while, my Father patiently waits until I am able to bring my emotions to Him. When I choose to do so, He is a completely safe place, no matter how violent the anger, how intense the fear, how deep or desperate the grief.

The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and His ears are attentive to their cry; Psalm 34:15 (NIV)

2. When I come to a place of sharing my emotions with Him, I can choose to let go of them and hold His hand. At the point I choose to pour out my heart to the Father, there is rarely an immediate solution to whatever brought me to His feet. However, I can often feel an exchange of anger, fear or grief for peace. Something about choosing to share my emotions with the Father, allows me to also begin to let go of them. Just as we learned that a hand on our child’s shoulder could help them navigate through their fear, something about spilling out my emotions allows me to leave some of them with Him, in exchange for feeling His hand on my shoulder. Please do not mistake this for a Pollyanna response indicating I walk away from my time with the Father completely free of anger, fear and grief. When we placed our hand on our child’s shoulder, there was not an instant resolution for them. They simply had more strength to address their situation. As do I.

I will give thanks, for you answered me; you have become my salvation. Psalm 118:21 (NIV)

3. Life will give me plenty of opportunities to practice these lessons. A danger spot for me will be when I stand amazed at how these things could happen to me or those I care about. Though the Father is perfectly capable of handling all my whys, I have to move through those questions to a place of trust in Him. Life is very hard some days. Being in relationship with God makes me His child; it does not exempt me from trials. If I begin to take the attitude that since I love God, these circumstances should not be floating my direction, I will end up in a bitter and confused place.

He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. Matthew 5:45 (NIV)

Today, I want to be a woman who is switching letters. I want to meet with my Father, entrust my emotions to Him and walk away from the scared to the sacred. With His hand on me, I am truly able to face every situation.

Can the Floor Open Up and Swallow Me Now?

2008-10-04T11:10:00.000-04:00

With boys who were seven and ten years older, we quickly began to observe a frequently repeated comment when we took our new baby girl and her brothers out into public. People would lean down to see the baby, dressed from head to toe in pink, and coo over her. They would then look at our two elementary age sons and a comment began resonating from their lips much more often than I liked. “Oh, how wonderful for you. You FINALLY got your girl.” Much to my frustration, few seemed to think about the impact this statement might have on our two young sons. One night, I decided to address the issue at the dinner table. With the boys in our presence, I shared with Rob how once again, someone had given us the “finally” statement when we had been out that day. “Do these people really believe we spent the past ten years having no life, just waiting for Libby to be born?” My question was meant as much for the boys to hear as for Rob to answer. I went on to express my concern with a brilliant statement. “The next time someone says that to me, I think I am just going to smack them.”
Within the week, I took the boys to an appointment with a new dentist. The hygienist came out to graciously greet our family. Sure enough, she bent over the stroller, cooed over Libby, looked me straight in the face and said, “Well, you finally got your girl.” Immediately, Mark began pulling on my arm. Before I could address him, he spoke in a clear voice, “Mom, didn’t you say you were going to smack the next person that said that?” As you can imagine, there was nothing for me to do but smile and wish the floor would open up to swallow me.
So this is the story of the one time in my life my child/children completely embarrassed me – NOT. As you can imagine, as you have probably personally experienced, something about being a mom just lends itself to having “will the floor please swallow me up now?” incidents. So, what is really going on when these things happen?
Sometimes, I was not careful with the words that came out of my mouth, especially in my home. At times, my children had just not yet developed the maturity to understand that not everything said in the home demands a repeat presentation in the marketplace of life. Yet some of the time, there was a larger issue going on, one that has had to be continually addressed in my life.
You see, I had chosen to dress myself in a non-visual, yet very real to me, coat. This coat was extremely heavy, unattractive and often just plain stinky. This coat not only impacted my life, but has been at times, a terrible drain on my children, much like an over-burdened, over-heated mom can be to a family. The coat I am describing was one of letting my children’s successes and failures become my resume/report card. When my children were successful (whatever that means), I was a good mom. Not just a good mom, a good person, feeling like I was on top of the world. When my children struggled and had failures, I was a bad mom, beating myself up, overanalyzing every decision I had made/was making with them, depressed and miserable to be around.
It is an easy trap to fall into as a mom. We love our children. We want the best for them. We know we have a huge impact on their lives, especially when they are little. The following logical application seemed to be for me, if they do well, I have done well. If they struggle and fail, I have screwed up.
God has graciously pointed out to me, over the years, the utter failure in such “logic.” He describes himself, over and over again in the Bible, as a parent to us.

“I will be a Father to you, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.” 2 Corinthians 6:18 (NIV)

He tells us how His ways are perfect.

As for God, His way is perfect. Psalm 18:30a (NIV)

Yet, you also see God hurting over the mistakes of His children.

“My heart churns within me; my sympathy is stirred.” Hosea 11:8c (NKJV)

You see, in spite of God’s being a perfect parent, His outcome is not perfect children. I only need to look in the mirror to understand that particular truth. Why then, was I expecting superior results from my own flawed parenting?
This week, I had the privilege to share this truth with some mothers of preschoolers. I wish I could say God allows me that opportunity because I have carefully learned this truth and consistently now apply it in my daily life. Unfortunately, I seem to be in the position of repeatedly being able to share this truth because it is something I struggle with so mightily. The reality is I am not a perfect parent. And the coat of my children’s outcomes being my resume is too extraordinarily heavy for either me or my children to bear. We all need the freedom to learn and grow without anyone’s resume depending on the outcome.
The moments I want the floor to open up and swallow me because of my children are now very rare. Probably, the shoe has passed to their feet, especially for a teenage daughter with a so not cool mom. Hopefully, God is starting to write His truth on my heart. I am not a perfect parent. He is. I have not turned out perfectly. They have not turned out perfectly. Yet just as I love them, He loves me. Even if He does still want the floor to open up some days.

In Fashion

2008-07-11T17:13:00.000-04:00

When Mark was a baby, he loved to crawl. In fact, Mark loved crawling so much that he was not at all interested in learning to walk. He was a big guy, fast on his knees, and chose not to walk until he was seventeen months old. With a three year old big brother he wanted to follow everywhere, this presented some interesting dilemmas. We soon realized Mark was so eager to keep up with the older children that he would follow them down the concrete driveway oblivious to the fact that his knees were bleeding. With the warm weather of Florida, David and the neighborhood children were outside much of the day. Mark was anxious to tag along.
Our solution to this dilemma was functional, but not very pretty. It was too hot for the boy to wear long pants, so we took some of Rob’s knee high athletic socks and used suspenders to hold them in place. Mark crawled on, happy to be able to keep up and mom and dad content to see his knees no longer bleeding, but he was quite a sight. He was a fashion blunder waiting to be rescued by the latest cable show.
So now you know our son was a functional fashion disaster as a toddler, due to his parents. However, lately I have been thinking of different fashions. What am I clothing myself in each day?
Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Colossians 3:12 (NIV)
Wow, what a list! Humility? Gentleness? Are these even in my closet? Often, I would believe falsely that these are not options for me. Random erroneous thoughts come to me like “just not my personality.” However, that is not the whole truth.
My Father has well outfitted my closet. He has made me holy – still a mind boggling concept for me, but a true one, none the less. He has filled my closet with everything I need to wear each day – including compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. My choice each day is whether or not I want to clothe myself in these things.
Mark’s fashion disaster was a functional one which still brings laughs and fond memories for our family. My life, however, can become a fashion disaster when I choose not to clothe myself in the beautiful things my Father has given me to wear. There will be nothing funny or fond about it, when I choose to ignore the clothes/qualities my Father desires that I wear. Today, I want to go out looking good by choosing the clothes the Father has laid out for me. His fashion sense is always in style.

2008-05-07T14:04:00.000-04:00

An Anchor

As a teenage girl, I experientially learned a painful, but profound truth. Life can change in a moment.

Rapidly
Irreparably
Forever

When my only sibling, my fifteen year old younger brother, died suddenly and unexpectedly three days before Christmas, I was thrown into a world with a depth of pain I had not imagined possible.

Except for the loss of a dearly loved uncle, my childhood had been relatively pain free. When this tragedy came blaring into our lives, seemingly out of nowhere, it felt to me like one must feel when suddenly overtaken on a quiet dark road by a speeding semi-truck. You are suddenly flattened, left without air in your lungs, terrified, stunned and generally lost.

Obviously, I was not the only one affected by these events. My parents were attending a Sunday School class party when the news came that turned their world upside down. Our extended family changed their plans from Christmas dinners to receiving food from grieving friends wanting to give us comfort. For my aunt and her family, Christmas dinner became hot dogs in the Atlanta airport as they traveled home from the funeral. Both my brother’s junior high and my high school had to cancel some semester exams the next day when students became too distraught to test after hearing the news and looking at their classmate’s empty seat. My pastor, a strong and godly man, spoke words of comfort at my brother’s funeral, but only after privately confessing his feelings of total inadequacy in light of such stark tragedy.

All in a moment.

Where is the hope in this story? Where do we turn in the hour of our greatest need, our darkest pain? If we can not know from one moment to the next whether or not everything in our lives will be turned upside down, how do we get out of bed each morning? The only answer I have found is in the Bible.

We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.
Hebrews 6:19 (NIV)

Anchors were only pictures in a book to me until Rob was assigned to a ship as the assistant supply officer. Watching the large ships of the United States naval fleet as a young bride, I was amazed at the size and scope of the anchors. These mammoth shapes of metal were accompanied by large, long chains which allowed them to drop to the bottom of the ocean floor. When the chains began to creak as they dropped, you knew the ship they were tied to was going nowhere. The ship would remain steady no matter how the sea rolled against it.

The book of Hebrews gives me words which I can use as a secure anchor for my soul as the seas roll in my life. These words give me a place to find hope. Chapter 2 tells me that Jesus tasted death for me and is not ashamed to call me brother. It says that He shared in my humanity so He could destroy the one “who holds the power of death – that is the devil.” (Hebrews 2:14b – NIV) In chapter 6, we who are in relationship with Jesus through His death on the cross are called heirs. We are called those “who have fled to take hold of the hope offered.” (Hebrews 6:18 – NIV) What is that hope? That we are part of God’s family. Forgiven. Heirs. Brothers and Sisters.

The reality I learned as a teenager is that I truly have no clue what the next twenty four hours hold for me or for those I love. I can dream, plan, anticipate, but I will never be able to anchor my life to anything in the future. Life can change in a moment.

The only anchor for my soul, the only secure resting place is with the hope I have in Jesus Christ. He has secured my spot in the family. My long term destiny is clear, though what happens in this life may be foggy. Thankfully, very few days in my life have been like that life changing December day in my teens. So many days have been happy and calm. My hope is not in future days of calm though, my hope is in God. He is my firm anchor of delivery for whatever happens . . . . . . in a moment.

Missing Beth

2008-04-24T15:41:00.000-04:00

Recently we had some precious friends from Orlando come to visit us and see Washington, D.C. It was a treat for me as playing tourist in our nation's capitol is one of my favorite things to do. We took off for the week visiting the museums, the monuments, the Capitol and the White House. We were having a grand old time playing in the city as she showed off for us all decked out in her annual pink necklace of cherry blossoms.

On Saturday afternoon, one of our friends had to head back to Orlando, so after we put her on the train, we went to see the Washington monument. The view was spectacular walking in a short circle to see the Lincoln Memorial, the reflecting pool, the White House and the Capitol. We sat and marveled at how good God had been to give us such a wonderful week.
The next Tuesday morning, I sat in bible study listening to everyone sharing their prayer requests. One lady mentioned that she had a special praise. On Saturday, she had taken visiting family down to the district to see the sites. When they stopped in front of the Capitol, who did they see but Beth Moore filming on the steps of the Capitol. My friend continued telling of how they got to meet Beth, how she was just as precious in person as she is on her DVDs and what a special day it was for their family.

While this story was being shared, I sat with my mouth hanging open. It has been my privilege to study several of Beth Moore's DVD series. Each time, Beth has a way of presenting the material so that you feel you are sharing God's word over a cup of coffee with her. Consequently, I kind of consider Beth on my list of BFF's, even though we have never met. So, what was up with me standing and gazing from the Washington Monument at the Capitol while Beth is standing on the steps of the Capitol and never knowing she was there? After all the warm mugs we have shared together over God's word, shouldn't I have realized she was in town? Unbelievable.

Hopefully, you are grinning about how silly I am to get worked up over missing someone who has never even met me. I know I will get to hug Beth's neck in heaven and thank her for giving of herself to write and teach Bible studies that have drawn me closer to the Father. Meeting Beth on this side of eternity would be a treat, but it is not in any way essential. There is, however, a meeting I can not miss - my meeting with Jesus.

Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits-
who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases,
who ransoms your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion,
who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.
Psalm 103: 2-5

I must have my sins forgiven. I need my diseases (selfishness, a critical spirit, being judgemental and on and on) healed. I want a life that is ransomed from the pit. And oh how sweet when He satisfies my desires with good things and renews my youth (a benefit which looks better every year!) like the eagle's.

Recently, a precious friend shared with us how God has changed her focus in the intense struggle she has been walking through. Some days, she shared with us, all she can say is "At least I am not going to hell." Though initially this may seem like a very morbid statement, its truth is exactly how Jesus instructed His disciples. When they had returned from missions He had sent them out on, they were rejoicing over all they had accomplished through His power. Look at Jesus' words to them:

"I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you. However, do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven."
Luke 10:19-20

This is where my heart wants to rest today. "Rejoice that your names are written in heaven." I may have missed Beth, but praise God . . . . . . I did not miss Jesus.

Puffed Up

2008-04-09T13:23:00.000-04:00

Have you ever seen the defense mechanisms of a puffer fish at work? When perceiving danger, the puffer fish has the ability to fill its very elastic stomach up with large volumes of water (or air) and bloat itself to several times larger than its normal size. Many species of puffer fish also have quills or spines which become more pronounced upon inflation. Their sudden bloating and resulting exposed spines frequently drive away potential predators in fear.

Lately, I have been noticing behavior in myself akin to a puffer fish. Maybe I am noticing because my gracious Father has been turning my eyes that way. When something does not go my way or I feel mistreated, especially with family members, I begin sucking air in and blowing up my body. Out come quills all over me ready to strike at any perceived danger or offense. As the air continues to bloat my little puffer fish-like body, so my attitude grows larger and larger, more and more distasteful.

Please understand the perceived danger in my life does not involve physical violence or vulgar, abusive words. My perceived dangers look a little more like this:

“Well, if he expects me to ___________ (fill in the blank with any number of ideas), he’s got another think coming!”
“So help me, if I have to tell that child one more time to _________”
“Does he ever think about how this might impact me ?!?!?”

Slowly but surely, I mentally become the “offended” rehearsing over in my mind the “offense.” Needless to say, my countenance, my thoughts and my attitude quickly sour as this thinking inflates inside of me. Depending upon my mood at the time, I can choose to use my drama queen tendencies to either cover the bloating inside of me or exaggerate it to be sure my offender is aware of their crime. Pretty picture, huh?

Two competing ideas seem to arise while I am bloated. My own self, along with the whispers of voices of evil which desire only my self destruction, instruct me to balance the scales of injustice by dealing with the offense. Self and evil advise me to dwell on the offense by turning it over and over in my mind. They encourage me to devise a plan of action for educating the offender of his or her mistake. All of these mental gyrations allow the nasty air to swirl around inside and keep me bloated.

The Father has been showing me I have some other options in these situations. He gently reminds me, despite my protests, that I do have choices in these matters. His ideas are starkly different from those of self and evil.

Let it go.
Consider that your “offender” may have meant no offense.
Let it go.
Is this really worth your mental energy?
Let it go.
Will you even remember this one week from now?
Let it go.

The “Let it go” mindset is glaringly unpopular in our world today. “Stand up for your self,” “You have to make them understand,” “You can not just let them walk on you.” These are much more popular concepts. For me, these ideas are not particularly helpful. They allow me to justify the very thoughts and attitudes which keep me bloated. I hate being bloated.

Making the choice to let go gives me much more power and control. These are two of my strongest cravings which this time can work for my good. When I let go, I can feel the air beginning to leave. As the sour air seeps out, I slowly deflate. This deflation relieves my bloating. My mind comes back under control. Peace floods in.

I know many of you are probably climbing on your soapboxes of concern to remind me that I need to have a voice, my family needs to understand how their actions impact me and discipline and boundaries are essential in the home. Truly, I hear you. But here are my personal truths. I have wasted too much energy in my own life being puffed up about things that did not really matter anyway. Too much of my time and thoughts have gone towards anger at the very people I actually love more than any others on this earth, often when they had do clue what they had done. These are personal truths that propel me to change.

I can feel my Father smile and whisper His approval at my decision to choose to let it go. He has watched as I built my own chains of bondage through the years around my bloated self. This is not His desire for me. He is a lover of freedom.
Today I want to remember the little puffer fish. I want to understand how easily my mind blows up with sour air. I want to stay deflated. I want to choose to let it go.

"Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up."
1 Corinthians 8:1b (NIV)

The Homecoming

2008-03-22T11:09:00.000-04:00

During the first year of our marriage, Rob was assigned to a naval ship based in Jacksonville, Florida. I enrolled at the University of North Florida while Rob began the long hours of a shipboard officer. Two days after our first anniversary, we kissed goodbye as Rob boarded the ship for a six month deployment. As a twenty-one year old newlywed who was crazy in love, the months loomed seemingly endlessly before me. These were the days before cell phones and emails. I could look forward to receiving a letter, usually one to two weeks old when it arrived, or an occasional phone call when the ship made port. Rob’s particular vessel had few breakdowns that deployment which meant very few ports of call. It was not unusual to go two months without hearing his voice.
Needless to say, when it came time for the ship to come home, families were ecstatic. As young wives, my friends and I worked on losing those last couple of pounds (those were the days!), shopping for a new outfit for the big day and buying every conceivable food and beverage we thought our sweeties would enjoy. The house was scrubbed from top to bottom, I had my hair cut and nails polished, made welcome home signs and spent a sleepless night waiting for the morning to arrive. At last, the big day was here.
As we crowded around the pier, someone spotted the ship crossing the horizon. Slowly the ship came into view with the crew lined up on deck in their best uniforms. It was a sight to behold. My eyes continued to search though. For there was only one sight I wanted to see – Ensign Robert C. Dowell. Homecoming is a wonderful time.
Flash forward over twenty years. Rob was deployed to Bosnia for eight months. Everything was very different. We were able to talk on the phone once a week. We exchanged emails every day. The ensign had become a commander. The newlyweds had become parents. Some of our offspring were even taller than either one of us. There were three more hearts very much involved in this difficult process called separation. Each of them handled the deployment differently, but all sorely missed this man who was and is a rock in their lives.
As homecoming time draws near, some of the same rituals appear. New clothes, cleaning the house, laying in the food are all repeated much as they were in those early years, just on a larger scale. This time the scene is an airport. There are four of us, scanning the horizon, waiting for his face. But the tears and the joy are very much the same.
So why are my thoughts reminiscing this Easter about these special days? Our homecomings so remind me of another, a concept which simply blows my mind. Sure, it makes sense that a young newlywed would excitedly prepare for her husband’s return or that children of a beloved father would anxiously watch for their father, but the Creator of the universe looking for me?

“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.”
Luke 15:20b (NIV)

Seriously, Jesus is laying in the groceries for me? Cleaning the house for me?

“In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.”
John 14:2-3 (NIV)

Amazing. But how do I find my way home? How do I know He is preparing this place for me?

“You know the way to the place I am going.”
Thomas said to him, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?”
Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”
John 14:4-6 (NIV)

To paraphrase Charles Schulz, that’s what Easter is all about, Charlie Brown. Jesus came, died to pay the debt for my sins, so I could be in a personal relationship with Him. When I accept Him as the way, turn my life over to Him in exchange for wiping my dirty slate clean (repeatedly), He starts preparing for my homecoming. Cleaning the house, laying in the food. I have beautiful memories of very special homecomings. Days are locked in my memory that mean more to me than I can adequately express in words. I still tear up over almost every military homecoming I see in the news. Here is what boggles my mind. Quite frankly, I have not seen anything . . . . . . . yet.

2008-03-12T20:40:00.000-04:00

Humility is:
-dying to self
-living a life like Christ
-giving up "my rights"
-giving up control
-giving up protecting myself and those I love through my control
-trusting God
-being obedient
-daily
-in the small things
-will show itself glaringly (either present or lack thereof) in my relationship with my spouse and children
-making myself nothing
-starts in the heart; translates to the mind (attitude)
-releasing
-letting someone else be first
-the opposite of self focus
-peaceful
-servanthood
-foot washin'

Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: who being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing taking the very nature of a servant being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man He humbled himself and became obedient to death - even death on a cross! Therefore God exalted Him to the highest place and gave Him the name that is above every name that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow in heaven and on earth and under the earth and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father.
Philippians 2:5-11

The Invitation

2008-03-05T15:08:00.000-05:00

Okay, so here is my dream . . . .

I go to the mailbox one day to find a beautifully engraved invitation. Yes, it is finally here. Someone at last informed George and Laura that Rob and I, like they, are Southerners transplanted into the crazy world that is greater Washington, D.C. Naturally, they decide they simply must have us over for dinner.
After calling Rob and screaming my excitement in the phone, I quickly RSVP a “yes” to the White House invitation. I clear my calendar to open up room for a hair appointment, a manicure, a pedicure, and shopping time with a girlfriend to find the perfect dress, shoes, jewelry, etc.
On the big day, I spend hours primping and preparing. My appointments and shopping all behind me, my head filled with the latest news talking points (“So, Mr. President, how will NATO deal with those protestors in Belgrade?”), Rob and I head off to the White House. After clearing security, we finally enter the doors of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. How do I feel at this particular moment? I am a nervous wreck.
At this stage in my life there is probably not enough preparation, money or coaching to have me mentally approach a visit to the White House without nerves. Will I look okay? Will I say the right thing? Will I fall on my face? Questions of insecurity would pummel my brain.
Yet, almost everyday, in some form or fashion – long or short, drop-in or sit down chat – I walk into the throne room of almighty God. The Sovereign Creator of the universe. The Alpha and the Omega. The Great I Am.
How do I dress for this auspicious occasion? Seriously, you would not want to see me. Usually, no makeup, frequently sweaty in my old t-shirt and shorts I wear to ride my stationary bike, sometimes even pajamas. Very often, I have not had my shower, combed my hair or even brushed my teeth. Yuck. Sometimes I might be cleaned, dressed and made up, but I buzz in and out of the throne room in thirty seconds or less. Zoom in the door, speak and take off again.
My security clearance for these meetings? No problem, I just buzz right in the door. Through a process which is at the same time simple and yet far beyond my understanding, the guards immediately see I am one of the family, covered in Jesus blood. I am ushered into the presence of the Master of the universe.
So what’s the difference? Why am I a nervous wreck over even an imaginary White House invitation, but do not hesitate to sail into the throne room of God? The answer lies partially in the limitations of my own mind. I probably will not in this lifetime completely comprehend what it means when I – yes, sinful, messed up, broken me- walk into God’s throne room. The Bible says even angels long to look into these things. How in the world did I end up with access to God’s throne? It is so simple, yet so profound. Jesus gave His blood to be my “fast pass” through security. When I turned my life over to Him, I became one of the family. I simply said yes to an invitation that is open to each and every one of us.
The other part of the answer involves my heart. Somewhere, deep inside, Jesus finally seems to be reaching the little girl in me. He whispers to her of perfect love. He lets her heart know she is completely safe, completely welcomed and completely loved. He tells her of how she is His princess. The little girl in me buys into His words one hundred percent. Jesus is so convincing, so alluring, and so safe. The grown woman my struggle with fears, doubts and insecurities, but the little girl waltzes into the throne room, showing her daddy how she can twirl in her skirt - or her p.j.’s or even her sweaty shorts.
So for today, I want to think on these things. If I would be nervous about a White House visit, how amazing is it that I get into the ultimate executive mansion anytime I want? The ruler of the world invites me in with no hair appointment, no manicure, and no pedicure. He just issues an invitation.
“Come”
”Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence. “
Hebrews 4:16a (NIV)