Empowered For The Journey

I have taken up a new hobby of sorts. It's insane and brilliant at the same time. I have become a little bored with my regular gym routine ever since I decided a year ago to reclaim my health at the beginning of my thirties and start making it look good. It's called Crossfit. I blame this latest addiction on R., as he was the one who began doing this last spring, and I completely scoffed at it. Me, do a pull up?!? Uh, yeah, what prescription medication are you abusing? You surely have me confused with someone who cares about more than Cheetos, Double Stuff Oreos, and sleeping in at every possible opportunity.



I did eventually roll my bones back into the gym and have been pretty hooked on it ever since. R. should be a personal trainer because, not only does he have an endless wealth of information about physical fitness and the human body, but he's a great motivator. The times we've hit the gym together have been great. I need someone to cheer me on and hold me accountable, and he's my Number One Fan. Or at least does a great job of making me think so as every cell in my body is crying, "Mutiny!" and begging for me to stop and rest.



With his encouragement, my disgusting vanity and competetive nature, and the knowledge that I'm actually caring for the temple entrusted to me by my Creator, I feel empowered to do things and experiment with activities that I would have never even considered five years ago. It makes me feel more productive, and I also like setting this example for my children of caring about being active and taking care of myself while I am in good health. God empowers us, too, and helps up to develop our spiritual fitness that will serve us in the future when we need to rely on it during hard times.



In Mark 9:2-13, we read about Jesus' transfiguration. Some miraculous things happen that are more than a little confusing to the disciples, and likely a little terrifying to boot. The voice of the Father commands them to listen to the "beloved Son," and afterwards the Father has empowered the Son for the next stage in his life, that of his active ministry, an intense time of movement and preaching that begins a sort of countdown to his eventual death and resurrection. In short, Jesus has one heckuva journey ahead of him.



Many theologians, from the days of the Acts 2 church until our own present time, like to debate Jesus' humanity versus his divinity. Was he really a human, true flesh and blood? Is it possible for him to have actually been God? Is it conceivable that he was actually fully both God and human, or some weird combination? I'll leave that argument to the true theologians. My personal belief is that Jesus was fully human and fully divine, "God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten not made, of one being with the Father," as we read in the Nicene Creed. This is the understanding from which I work. That being said, the way I understand this passage is such:



Jesus had a mission during his time among us, and like all things, God had a perfect time during which Jesus would serve out obediently that purpose for which he was sent. This was it -- showtime. Jesus didn't go around speaking in parables and working miracles as a toddler or a teenager, although we know that he was raised in a way that had him in and around the temple and discussion of the books of Moses. This was a new journey in his life, and God gave all power and glory to Jesus so that he would have the tools he needed to go the distance.



As I heard these words in church yesterday, I thought about all the people I know and the different journeys they are on. Some are embarking on journeys of physical healing and recovery, some are journeying into the realm of the unknown after having lost jobs in this crummy economy. Others are tentatively dipping their toes into the scary, deep pool of dating after divorce. Yet others can see the next journey that God is calling them to take, and they are hesitant to take that first step into the unknown. Personally, I'm embarking on a journey of service in my church to minister to those who are ill or elderly and cannot attend Sunday services. No matter what road we are all on in this life, God is standing on the sidelines cheering us on and empowering us to continue moving forward. God is the source of our strength, not our own mental fortitude or best efforts. By surrendering that control to God, we allow God to completely fill us with the skills, insights, patience, endurance for the journey ahead. Like R. cheering me on to do that last painful set of pull-ups or squats, God is there to see us through and knows what we need to keep us going.

Quick Reflection

"So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." -- II Corinthians 4:18

This is the Bible verse on my desk calendar for November 30. This is a date that is etched on my heart forever. For me, it is my 9/11. That is T.'s birthdate into heaven. Really, I struggle with that day and the day before, which is when he had the accident on the motorcycle, but that's a completely different blog. This verse really captures my view of what happened that day in the surgical ICU in LSU Medical Center in Shreveport, Louisiana, and it's something I need to remind myself of more often.

I didn't blog anything on November 30, not because I was avoiding it or dreading it or planning some uber-emotional tribute. We were out at the cemetery laying a wreath that day, with the cold, damp late fall wind whipping our hair around, musing about how long it had been, how fast the time has gone and yet how it has seemed to go so slowly at the same time. I'm learning that, as Heath Ledger's widow has lamented, the longer T. is gone, the more I miss him. Strangely enough, it hasn't kept me from embarking on a deep, sweet love with R., which is God's working in and of itself. In fact, when R. showed up for the holidays, I could just feel every muscle in my body relax and my blood pressure go down. It was so comforting to see the continuity in my life that he brings and how he allows me to both go on loving T. but yet move forward with my life with him. As stressed out and emotional as I get, I know that all my complexities can be exhausting, but he loves me through it and comes back for more.

But back to Shreveport, 2005. I didn't have the extensive mental Scripture file that some of my friends have, but I knew this verse. I couldn't have told you the book, chapter, or verse, but I understood this truth in my heart. When I realized that T. was gone, not breathing, not going to open his eyes any more, not going to sit up and complain about having to eat spaghetti one more time, or fight back to good health, my thinking had to shift immediately from temporal to eternal. To consider the temporal without T. was to want to reach into his chest and pump his heart with my own bare hands to make it work again. I could not dwell on this because I would have begged for death myself. Instead, I know that God had already planted the seed of eternity in my heart -- I instantly had to look beyond where I was, standing over the body that no longer contained the soul and let him go. I actually had to tell him this, that he needed to go. In looking back, he was already gone and I would realize this when piecing together details after my brain was functioning somewhat normally later on. But for me, I had to put him into that eternal context to keep from caving in on myself.

Flashing forward to Advent 2008, I reconnected with a college buddy last night on FaceBook who had not heard of T.'s passing, and it obviously came as a real shock to him. I remember telling my friend Marily about this last year, and she was completely speechless as well. And even just last week, HisGirl was watching Super Nanny and was just floored by the episode involving a widow with a two year-old and a five month-old, which is almost exactly the ages Li'l G and Bud were when T. died. It was a real eye opener for her on what our reality is like, especially with such little ones in the picture. What's amazing to me is that I have come through any of this, and now this feels normal, if such a bland, descriptionless word could ever be used in this context. I have no idea how I have made it this long, and still have no idea how any single day in the future will transpire. All I know is this: having an eternal perspective has everything to do with it.

Consider this: Our economy is as fragile as a glass Christmas ornament. Terrorism is a constant threat. People die every day in tragic ways, and more still are diagnosed with terminal illnesses. Millions of people in our own country sleep under blankets of cardboard in sub-freezing temperatures. Children starve and are abused. In my own life, I have certain ideas on how I'd like things to play out, but there are no guarantees. To live with our focus on the temporal is overwhelming, at least to me. Even the wonderful glimpses we get of beauty and love are not enough to get me by. To live with an eye on the eternal is where I draw my strength and my hope. It helps me to get past all of the pain and hurt in the world, in my own life, and to keep walking toward the One I know to be faithful, the One constant in a world filled with variables. "How do I know this?" I have been asked countless times. To be honest, you can read your Bible or not; I don't really care about that. All I can say is that God has been there for me, revealed to me in real and tangible ways that honestly speaks louder to me than Scripture. Hang me up to dry if you want. I read my Bible as often as I can and revel in its words, but there is absolutely nothing like experiencing, really experiencing, the peace which passeth all understanding in real life. There is nothing like knowing that the same God which brought his people out of Egypt and cared for them in the wilderness for 40 years is caring for me in the midst of my wilderness. There is nothing like knowing that the same God who bodily resurrected my Jesus has my sweet T. in his care right now and has made him whole, healed his broken heart and body, and is guiding the kids and me all at the same time. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I've not read any passage of Scripture that says he will take away our pain if we just pray or come to him. What God does promise is that he will never leave or forsake us. He is there if we keep our eyes on the eternal and don't let the temporal distract us.

As I prepare in my home and in my heart for the birth of Jesus, I think of Him in a tempral perspective, and it brings a lump to my throat. This precious, soft, sweet child is our sacrificial Lamb. Those tiny little fingers and toes will end up bearing Jesus' physical weight and the spiritual weight of our sins on the cross someday. How sad! How tragic! But in an eternal perspective, it inspires awe. This baby boy, through the love and nurture of his earthly parents, grows up and maintains His obedience to the Father. The story begins with the stirrings in the womb, continues through the labor pains, infancy, toddlerhood, life as the son of a carpenter, radical ministry that ends with His death on the cross, and is still continuing at the right hand of the Father. Why wouldn't we want to focus on the eternal in this picture?

This may sound crazy and hair-brained, and I'll give you that, but it has everything to do with how I understand my world, how my perspective has changed and continues to do so. I have got my eyes fixed like a laser past the end of my temporal existence to one that is eternal. It gives me hope and strength to march on with purpose in situations where I cannot comprehend uncertainty, grief, suffering, or even evil in the world. And even as I try my hardest to speak light and life and live what I believe, I still pray constantly, "Even so, come, Lord Jesus!"

May that also be our prayer as we journey toward Christmas and, ultimately, Resurrection Day!

Get Out There And...

Doesn't matter how you vote -- just get out there and DO IT! As the saying goes, if you don't participate, you lose the right to bloviate. Translated: if you don't vote, you lose the right to complain!

All kidding aside, I think, despite what some Lib friends of mine say, that this race will be the closest one yet. I think I have a good idea of who will win, and it honestly makes me highly concerned for the future of our soldiers and our economy. I don't trust this individual or the running mate chosen, and I can only imagine what our country will look like a year from now if this person wins. On the other hand, I'm not particularly convinced that the team running on the other side of the ticket are the individuals for the job either. Until we, the Voters, take back our country and demand real leadership, as I've said time and again, we get the candidates we deserve. I just pray that God will have a hand in all this today and in the outcome of our democratic exercise. We shall see...

"May the nations be glad and sing for joy, for you rule the peoples justly and guide the nations of the earth." --Psalm 67:4

Even so, LORD, guide our nation.

A Conscience Captive to the Word Of God

"There is not enough darkness in all the world to put out the light of one small candle..." --Arthur Gordon

When is the last time you felt convicted about something? Not just convinced of something, or feeling one way or the other about something like who you will vote for on Election Day, but convicted? Have you ever felt so strongly about something that, the more you thought about it, you almost felt haunted or consumed by it, possibly to the point where you could not keep your opinions or ideas to yourself?

In a world consumed with not hurting people's feelings and political correctness, many people chose to keep their most deep feelings tucked away. In my parents' and grandparents' generations, speaking your mind was dangerous, and you most certainly did not discuss things like who you voted for at an election. Many bloggers won't discuss politics or religion because they don't want to offend those who don't share the same viewpoints. I can definitely respect those who believe that their language should be edifying and uplifting as a response to living out the Gospel, but I hardly see how it is un-Christian to have an opinion and confess it. Had Jesus been terribly worked up about being politically correct, we'd all probably be wearing prayer shawls and phylacteries and living under Torah Law. Since when did it become a sin to confess one's faith, opinions, and beliefs?

As many of you know, I'm one of these outspoken types. It can be a blessing and a curse to be sure. Once I research a topic and decide where I stand on an issue, I am happy to engage people in discussions about things that most shy away from or frown upon. As I have been working through lay minister training and the various topics of study presented therein, I have been a mass of information to chew on and digest. It has done nothing less than completely change the way I view my world. I have fumbled through this life, picking up pieces of different denominations and expressions of faith here and there, adapting my thoughts or beliefs as I learned what I thought was truth as presented by people I trusted, "standing on the Word of God." When I had reason to return to my hometown area and the Lutheran church after having sampled so many other expressiosn of Christianity, I was hesitant at first to come back. I saw my fellow Lutherans as closed off to modern concepts and ideas and expressions, and I wanted to not be stared at if I wanted to raise my hand during worship, for example. But the more I looked into Lutheran ideas to see if this was how I needed to be the weekly venue for my expression of faith and how I understand God, I realized I was theologically in the right place. At the same time, that has presented problems for me that have been emotionally crippling. I see our little church struggling through hard times, and it pains me to see this happening to the body of Christ. Outside our doors, I see a culture of people wanting to be entertained at church, scorning communion, scaring people into praying the sinner's prayer to take Jesus into their hearts so they don't go to hell, and it makes me want to vomit. Every.single.time.

I, like Luther, apparently have a flair for offending people. If only they knew how many times I do the "copy/paste/cut/edit" thing in my mind before I start talking about certain topics! As Luther confessed at the Diet of Worms, I, too, am guilty of speaking harshly at times. This is hardly a very Christian thing of me to do, and I have to pray for God's help in taming my tongue. But I tell you, my friends, there have been times when I am so worked up about the garbage someone else has just passed off as gospel truth that I am trembling from the need to stop them in their tracks!

Why on earth am I rambling about all this? Reformation Sunday was celebrated yesterday by Lutherans around the world. I would hope that anyone who is Christian of any denomination would have at least acknowledged it, but I highly doubt that they did. Luther never intended, and I'm quite sure would be abhorrently appalled today, to split up the Roman Catholic church and create the Protestant movement, much less an entire denomination that aligned with his ideas so much as to take his name. He was so intensely repulsed by Rome, the papacy, and human corruption in the church that he wanted to clean house. Even when the peasants revolted in his name, he implored the princes to put down the rioting crowds. People took a good idea and went too far; however, it is what it is, and those of us who read Bibles not written in Latin can thank Martin Luther for that freedom.

Independence. We value that above all else in this country. Not just in the political realm, but in our choices of religiousity as well. Our pastor preached yesterday about how, every 500 years, it appears that the church undergoes major reformation. We are in an age of that right now. Five hundred years ago (circa A.D. 1541), Martin Luther was the first small candle railing against the corrupt darkess, along with Calvin, Zwingli, and many more. Five hundred years before that (circa A.D. 1054), the Catholic church split into two groups -- Roman Catholic and Orthodox. Five hundred years prior to that (circa A.D. 550), the Roman Empire fell. And folks, five hundred years prior to that (circa A.D. 30), a Jewish rabbi claiming to be the Anointed One was healing and preaching, only to be crucified, dead, and resurrected. What began with one man and his disciples has spread over thousands of years and hundreds of thousands of miles to what we have today. All because people were willing to be used by the Spirit. To draw that line in the sand, at the risk of losing lives or offending people, to say, "My conscience is captive to the Word of God... Here I stand; I can do no other."

I agree with my pastor, and Luther, in that you don't scare people into seeking Christ as a way to avoid the damnation of the Fiery Pit for all of eternity. God created us because God wanted to love us, to have a relationship with us. And we don't take the name of Christ and then condemn others who don't agree with us and pine for the days when we're taken Home. When Jesus truly resides in our hearts, we are activated to serving in the kingdom, the kingdom of God here on earth. We are called to love one another and serve one another, expecting nothing in return. Not increased memberships at our churches. Not more coins in the coffer. Not more souls for the fold. I truly hope my opinions don't offend anyone; it is simply how I believe. I cannot be a purist to one man's theology or another. What I do know is that Jesus calls us to love. If we turn the Gospel into the law, we have defeated the whole point of Christ's sacrifice on the cross. I cannot take part in that anymore. If that has to cost me readers on this blog, friends in this world, or other potential benefits, then I take that on willingly. I don't expect high-fives here, and I'm sure someone could take things I've said here personally. I pray that, as you all find your places in this world and sort out your heart before God, that you will find a firm foundation of what you believe and hold fast to that. Seek out wise counsel, talk to others about what they believe, but keep your eyes squarely on the cross and judge everything you hear by how it holds up to what you know Jesus has done for you. Don't be afraid to say, "I personally don't believe that." Where would we all be if others had not the courage to do just that?

"Hear counsel, and receive instruction, that thou mayest be wise in thy latter end." -- Proverbs 19:20

A Sunday Blessing

"May your roots go down deep into the soil

of God's marvelous love;

And may you be able to feel and understand...

how long, how wide, how deep,

and how high his love really is."

-- Ephesians 3:17-18 (TLB)

Step By Step

"Hope does not necessarily take the form of excessive confidence; rather, it involves the simple willingness to take the next step." -- Stanley Hauerwas

I woke up this morning and had to remind myself it was Saturday. Then, being the number-obsessed person that I am, I was groggily trying to figure out what that made the date on the calendar. ' October 4th. Oh my gosh -- October 4th!' And then I lay there with a smile for a minute.

Twelve years ago today, after some "pre-event festivities" in the dorm, the juniors in the Corps of Cadets at Texas A&M formed up behind Duncan Dining Hall, just behind the band. They milled around with their dates, if they had one, looking around nervously for seniors who were looking to smack them on top of their heads and rattle their bonfire pots (helmets). The rest of the attendants of Midnight Yell practice that night were already assembled at Kyle Field in the student section of the stadium, straining to hear the distinct thud of the bass drums echoing throughout the massive east Texas campus as the procession of the Fightin' Texas Aggie Band and the following entourage would make their way through campus and onto the football field.

Upon walking into the stadium and onto the sacred green grass, the crowd cheered wildly as they did every other time. The yell leaders roused the assembled group into a maroon frenzy as they led the yells (not cheers at A&M; that's for sissy schools with female hussies cheerleaders). Finally, after the "Beat The Hell" yell, as per usual, the lights were turned out at Kyle Field and the smooching began! For about three minutes, in the electrified darkness of the football field, those with dates got to kiss in keeping with Aggie tradition. When the lights came back on, a few more yells were done, everyone proceeded out of the stadium, and we probably don't want to know how the night ended for those in attendance...

If you could've been in that crowd looking down on the field at a dashing, young man in a red Company L-2 t-shirt, you would've seen him look sheepishly down at his date, give her a grin, and have his first kiss with her, a kiss that would begin almost a decade of love, children, the military, and end so quietly on November 30, 2005, in Shreveport, Louisiana, a kiss that can still be felt even today. You would've seen a ditzy blonde who had had one too many margaritas (I think; can't remember!!) who had been swept off her feet by this tall, dark, and handsome boy and had waited for over a month for him to finally ask her out. That's where it all began, folks, and the rest, they say is history...

I usually remember and celebrate this date, but I must admit it snuck up on me this year. I will always remember it, however, and I know it will always make me smile and chuckle a little at how young we were (and how stupid I was to drink all those margaritas!) and all of the good times we had, especially in college. It's a good memory.

I immediately fast-forward to the first summer after T. was gone. He had died 8 months earlier and I was realizing that I would probably want to have another relationship. This brought me no guilt; perhaps it should have. T. was a man of his word. He had told me more than once that, if anything should happen to him, that I should remarry. I, of course, told him that he was bound to me for eternity and, should he remarry, I would haunt him and the heffer he was with, so he'd better not chance it. At any rate, I was interested in men but was very nervous and insecure around them. Basically, they scared me to death. I hadn't dated in ten years -- had things changed that much?!? (Answer: more than you know!)

My first "relationship" after T. was weird. I tried the online dating thing, too, and all of my friends and family (who, conveniently, were married) freaked out at the thought of me going on a date with a perfect stranger met via these sources. It was a liberating feeling knowing that I was able to attract people, but I was also very afraid of letting them too close to me or the kids. There were many, many times where I figured this was my cross to bear, like it or not, and I was destined to hell on earth be alone forever. My friends would get to prattle on about their husbands, complain about what a drag it was to "have to" have sex with their husbands, get to be invited to things for couples, find out that they were pregnant (again! tee hee!), go out to dinner and watch a movie together, etc., and I would get to watch from the sidelines. My bonus prize for being a widow? Getting to hang around married people. Getting to hear moms complain that dads would rather take a nap or go hunting that help out with the kids ("I swear -- it is so hard to do everything by myself! I mean, he really does not know what I go through!"). Have to pay double to stay at a resort or go on a cruise because the rooms are meant for double occupancy. Eat alone at a restaurant. Go to the movies. Alone. Mow my yard, install and repair things in the house, maintain the vehicle, teach my kids to fish, fix broken furniture, etc. Alone. While the married couples rolled their eyes at each other.

I remember where I was when I realized that I was created for companionship. I was sitting at church, and my dear friend and pastor at the time was preaching about adam and eve (not capitalized on purpose; that's a whole other blog). At any rate, it is "right and salutary" that we should desire relationships and connection with others, especially male/female relationships and marriage. I guess I was waiting on a green light from God, and I felt like I had it.

There are scores of people who have lost a spouse that are, for whatever reason, unable to reach even this point. They dwell in the safety and comfort of that relationship, and for some it is all they say they desire. I would venture to guess a couple of things here:

1) The pain of losing their spouse is overwhelming, and eventually, the pain they feel becomes their companion. To be rid of that pain of loss would be akin to the complete absence of that person. They would rather hold on to the pain because, in an indirect way, it keeps that person close.

2) The number one reason that you hear (and honestly I question): issues of fidelity. Personally, I blame this on the modern, western concept of heaven. People romantically envision their spouse waiting patiently for them at the pearly gates, where they'll join hands and walk into the light to spend eternity together. *insert chirping birds and release the white doves on cue... To give one's self to another man/woman, even emotionally or romantically, much less physically, is to violate their marriage vows. They have become a cheater just because they didn't want to be lonely. How selfish of you. Bad widow/widower!

3) Maybe their marriage was less-than-ideal and they are finally free from emotional or physical bondage. To enter into another relationship seems like opening up a raw wound. Why would I want to let history repeat itself? they might ask.

4) They risk being hurt again, and quite frankly, they have checked off the "personal tragedy" box, thank you very much -- no need to ask for a second helping there. I think I myself fall into this category, but I didn't necessarily fit here at the beginning of my journey. My fellow heartbroken peeps just don't know how or if they'll survive a break up, a cheater, etc., in addition to having lost a spouse. The griefwork they already have to do is a heavy task, so why add to the load?

5) They perceive factors that should keep them from being "on the market" again. This could be age, appearance, children, and a kajillion other things. I most definitely fell into this category at first, although I have moved past it. My biggest factor was my children and their ages: Li'l G was 2 1/2 years old when T. died, and Bud was 9 months old and still nursing. Who was going to want to raise two small children with me? Or worse yet, who was going to find a stretched out, post-partum body attractive? T. was still attracted to me, but he saw my body when it was young and perky and watched it change with time and maternity. I was beautiful to him, but not in a single guy, lemme-put-dollar-bills-in-your-thong sort of way. You know what I mean.

And let me interrupt the blog right here to talk about plastic surgery for widows. If anyone out there wants to get upset that some of us do this, let me invite you to go sit on a pincushion. HARD. The perception is that, now that they roll naked in billions of insurance dollars on a daily basis and plot ways to throw away blood money, all widows go get themselves a pair of knockers because they've got "all this money to spend" now. Please, feel free to go stand on a subway track at rush hour and report back on how that felt. Most of the people (usually women) who do this, like me, feel completely undesirable and embarassed at how they will be perceived by a potential mate. If these people can do anything at all to restore a shred of confidence in themselves, then I say go for it. As long as they aren't snorting nose candy or becoming abusive alcoholics (which happens WAY more often than you'd think) and neglecting their kids, let these people get on with their lives without criticism. Chances are you wouldn't last a day going through what they go through.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled blog post. Where was I? Oh, yes. It is such a huge step to take back on to the dating field after loss. Terrifying. Worrisome. Stressful. I won't even lie. I'm in a fantastic relationship with R. and even then I still worry about things. But I have found that the risk has been worth it. I have learned lots about myself, but probably more about other people. I have learned that I'm really in this on my own. I know three other people, out of the scores of friends and family I'm blessed to have, that are in my shoes, one of whom is another military widow we served with at FT Riley. No matter how I explain things or look to my married friends for advice, sorry guys, it's just not working. We operate in such different spheres. I have to switch into my once-married brain just to be a part of conversation with them and function, much less not get my feelings hurt. It's not their fault they are still married, be it happily or not. And I'm so very thankful they cannot understand what my life is like; if they did, geez. Beyond terrible. Don't want to think about it.

I'd love to talk about how rewarding my relationship with R. is, but at his request, I try not to mention him on the blog. As I've said before, that's hard because I feel like I could really be sharing valuable insight and experience with other people, like me, who feel like they're all alone in this weird journey. All I can say is that every step has been important, and I have learned so much along the way. I was so scared that I'd never feel love again, as in, never have the capacity to love like that. (And it's hysterical at what a big deal the marrieds make out of the whole issue of sex, too. There are so many other things to worry about, but I digress.) I was scared about making myself (and my kids) vulnerable. I didn't realize how much "dirty laundry" in my heart I had to do until I was in the throes of my relationship with R. He doesn't realize it, but in needing to open myself up to him, I realized I was hanging on to unfinished business with T. In order to fully make my heart available to him, I needed to have some closure on those issues. It has been real work, let me tell you! But sooo worth the risk involved. And it has all been one HUGE opportunity to learn about trusting Abba.

One of my favorite verses I found recently was Psalm 116:5-8, and I keep it posted on the mirror in my bathroom:

"The LORD is gracious and righteous; our God is full of compassion. The LORD protects the simplehearted; when I was in great need he saved me. Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the LORD has been good to you. For you, O LORD, have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling."

I have needed reminding all along the way that I can rely on God, that he is consistent and faithful. It's an easy lesson to forget.

I don't know if most or even half of all who lose a spouse ever decide to take that next step in their lives toward loving again. I can tell you it's worth it, if you are someone out there in this position and wondering. (I can tell you NOT TO BRING THIS UP IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE FUNERAL or even for the first six months if you are someone trying to console a person who has lost a spouse.) After all, as Stanley Hauerwas said, the simple willingness to take the next step may be the biggest step you take of all.

Among God's best gifts to us are the people who love us.

Wordless Wednesday

So maybe they're not exactly wordless, but perhaps just less wordy than all the other posts. You get the picture.

"Let your light so shine before men,
that they may see your good works
and glorify your Father in heaven."
--Matthew 5:16 (NKJV)

To Have and To Hold, So To Speak

First of all, thank you for coming back!

I have felt a smidge guilty about my last posting. I try not to post crazy, off-the-wall rants here, but there are some times where the floodgates give way to the pressure behind them, and the result is the bloviating that ensued last week. I only wish I could blame it on PMS! Alas, there is a lot of that stuff floating around in my head. My usual attempts to control it malfunctioned, and there you have it. At any rate, there really are much more important matters going on in the world, believe it or not.

For example, things are just so odd right now in my life. For once, I am feeling wonderful peace in my relationship with R., satisfaction in how God is guiding me to be a loving, efficient parent, and trying to work hard on my various endeavors. Personally, I am sailing over serene, lovely waters right now. But as I cast my gaze to my left and right, there are some seriously churning waters surrounding important people and places in my life. I feel charged up and energized to take these burdens on in some serious prayer warfare and put some heat on the Oppressor. I have started my first prayer journal just for this purpose. And I'm NOT going to guilt-trip myself, as per usual, when I cannot make an entry in it daily. It's a discipline I've wanted to develop for years, and with the gravity of all that is going on around me, I figured there was no time like the present to embark on this journey.

On a somewhat-different-but-not-altogether-unrelated note, I was reading through I Thessalonians the other day for my Pauline epistles class and was struck by what a timely read this is for me. It is a short book, only five chapters long, but it leaves such an impression of connection and relationship that I cannot help but be encouraged by it.

Being one of many books in the New Testament attributed to Paul's authorship, it is considered to be the oldest known Christian document that we have access to today. It is estimated to have actually been written by Paul (not true of all of the epistles bearing his name) a mere 15-18 years after Christ's death and resurrection. I personally see this as a great barometer of what the early church must've been faced with, the energy amongst the new believers and leaders, and the challenges they faced at the time. For someone involved in various areas of ministry in their own church and looking to further that somehow, I Thessalonians turned out to be important for me to read anew.

At first, I started off thinking about my Chicas and some of the amazing Christian women I have known over the years in reading the first chapter. These are individuals that I feel have mentored me in some way, helped me get a step or two down the path that leads me closer to the cross. The reputation of their faith and understanding precedes them wherever they go, and I am humbled by their example. I struggle daily with how I can take the person God created me to be and follow their example, except in a way that is true to myself. Quite a task! And don't get me wrong -- I care nothing about mimicking someone that I admire; rather, I want to pick up the flecks of Jesus in their demeanor and personality and make it my own. Their love and nurturing have been balm for me, having just picked me up like a stray puppy and loved me unashamedly and unconditionally (I Thess. 2:7b-8).

Then my thinking shifted to my church. This group constantly has me in a state of utter confusion. I can get such a negative vibe hovering over our congregation at times; other times, it's bursting with brotherly love and the true presence of the Holy Spirit. As with any group of people, there are those who make it their life's work to attend to the various needs within the church, and there are those who expect red carpet service, and everyone in between. Really, I could be describing every single church on earth. This seems to be the nature of human beings everywhere, and believe me, it's not limited to churches or "religious" people. But it is what it is.

Being involved in a couple of different areas of my church, my attitudes fluctuate. One day I'm energized, mission-oriented, ready to go. The next day I'm out of steam, feeling burnt out and unappreciated but willing to continue working. On my lowest days, I wonder why I even care. Who wants to serve a person or group of people that stagnate, get comfy, and don't want to leave their spiritual grungy, old armchair? Or worse yet, what about those who walk away from the body of Christ because they got their feelings hurt or don't agree with someone else's theology, but they take the back door out of the community, not even desiring to mend the relationship? I toss my hands up in exasperation and think, "Lord, I'm done. D.U.N. You can have it all back. I'm obviously not cut out for this kind of stuff." Worse yet, I see other faithful servants hit their burnt out stage and I have nothing left with which to edify them, to build them up and tell them to hang in there. I try to be there for them, when in reality I could use someone doing the very same thing for me.

But as the old Amy Grant song says, I reach out for the Lamp, the Light, picking up the Word I find, and there's another letter... I Thessalonians gives me that little boost I need to realize I'm not alone here. It was I Thessalonians 5:12-15 (NRSV) that just floored me:

"12But we appeal to you, brothers and sisters,

to respect those who labor among you,

and have charge of you in the Lord and admonish you;

13esteem them very highly in love because of their work.

Be at peace among yourselves.

14And we urge you, beloved, to admonish the idlers,

encourage the fainthearted, help the weak,

be patient with all of them.

15See that none of you repays evil for evil,

but always seek to do good to one another and to all."

I will not be be specific or "air dirty laundry" here, but let me ask you all to be in prayer for my pastor and my church. As happens during the life of any group that chooses to gather in the name of Jesus, we're experiencing ups and downs on our journey. Our council met today, and despite the issues on our agenda, I felt a positive energy around the table. We have serious decisions to make in the coming months, and we as a council have been charged to facilitate wise decision making. We have a responsibility to not only communicate concerns to our congregation, but to live out I Thessalonians 5:12-15 and model it for them. God has called each of us to serve on this council at this time for a reason, and it is imperative that we take this scripture to heart. We cannot expect the pastor to be the remedy for every problem, nor can we sit around complaining and not desire to be part of the solution. Why, then, Lord, is it so difficult to rekindle the passion and the fire that once burned so brightly?

I think part of the problem that so many of us have overlooked is the "God" factor. We think that, if we only have more fellowship, or convince people to come back and be involved, etc., that we could solve some of our problems. Where does God fit in to this picture? Have we gotten so focused on what WE are doing or not doing that we have completely overlooked the lesson God might be trying to teach us here? What, in fact, is God trying to reveal to us by allowing us to go through a valley, rather than keeping us perpetually perched on the mountaintop?

I've got some theories, but that's all they really are. Bottom line, it just pains me to see such a precious group of people, a community in which I grew up and was nurtured and have chosen to to with my own children, struggle and pitch back and forth like this. I get so caught up in my passionate philosophizing that I completely forget where the cross should be in this picture, which is front and center. So, I'm taking it on in prayer. I've decided to make a serious committment to shut my mouth, open my heart, and listen for the whispers of the Holy Spirit concerning what our futures will hold.

Wordless Wednesday

"He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross,

so that, free from sins,

we might live for righteousness;

by his wounds you have been healed."

I Peter 2:24 (NRSV)

*picture taken of Christus statue in Salt Lake City, UT

Do I Have My Answer???

As I'm sure most of you have grown tired of hearing by now, I have been in a discernment process for over two years now on just how God is calling me towards working in his service. I've mentioned how I tend to be a jack-of-all-trades but master of none, and while I would like to narrow my professional focus to reduce this "calling ADD," I can't help but fantasize about all of the areas in which I think I have potential and skill that could be used for kingdom good.

There are certain areas that feel like a given, a reliable constant instead of a rash variable in my life. One is music ministry, and the other is to be active in the body of Christ as it pertains to serving my church. But is this supposed to be my vocation?

First and foremost, I knew that lovely November afternoon when T. was out on his first field training exercise (FTX) after returning home from Kuwait in 2002 that God had called me to become a mother. I finally felt as though my life finally made sense, and that all of the universe was in balance and groovy. However lovely and emotionally fulfilling this has been in my life (not to mention trying and stressful, but I'm trying to have a moment here), it does not pay the bills. I am fortunate to be able to stay at home with my children and not be pressured into being a single mother whose children spend all their waking hours in the arms of other caregivers. Just as T. made it possible in life for me to stay home (although I'm constantly on the go) to be here for our children, he continues to be our provider even in death.

But there is a day coming when I will have to enter the workforce, and those of you who know me even remotely know that I am one who cannot settle for anything in life, be it for a purse, a man, or a vocation. Not only must I be working at something about which I am passionate, I feel a responsibility, a calling if you will, to have my story "out there." I believe that there are people out there who are in need of someone who "gets them" in crisis situations, that isn't going to judge them, say something completely selfish or rude, and just love them through the life-changing moments they never thought they'd have to live through. I remember sitting with the ladies who met me from the organ donation agency thinking, 'I could do this -- I could help others having to make hard choices when they don't want to have to think about it because I've been there.'

So I've been working on becoming a Certified Lay Minister. It's just informal training, but it's a start, and I'm almost through with my training. I feel as if I could be approaching a fork in the road, although this one doesn't have anything yummy attached to it. It just branches out into foggy oblivion. I wish my life was as easy as an episode of "Dora The Explorer." She comes to a path and gets help from the audience to figure out which path to take. Spoiled brat!

At any rate, I've lost focus on those thoughts running in my head for a little while now. But when I was at Barnes & Nobles recently, my eyes caught the title of a book which I brought home and devoured. I won't give it away yet, as I'm still working on a review blog for it. It was as if I was reading about someone else living my life, and it awakened those thoughts of serving in the capacity of pastoral care and ministry of presence.

The Bible verse on my calendar here in the office for 9/11 was Ephesians 2:10 -- "We are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." For some reason, this made me think of people whose lives were changed on 9/11, survivors of those lost in various ways on that date. That was also T.'s birthday, and so I lumped myself into this category. I reflected upon how much my life has changed, how I'm a totally different person than the insecure, irrational brat he married on 1 July 2000, and undoubtedly how those survivors' lives have all changed as well. Then I pondered the last part of this verse, how God prepared in advance for us to do good works. God knew ahead of time who all of us were and who we would become in the moments just before and just after our lives pivoted on that tragic fragment of time. He's been crafting us all along, and for some of us, that crafting includes a massive puncture wound to the heart, complete with surrounding tissue damage and necrosis. The wounds don't mean our demise, but we are no longer the same creations we were; however, we remain his workmanship. Hmmm, OK...

So I had left the calendar open to this page, leaving it there as a reminder to blog on this verse. I'm tired of there being so many hits on the "Open Toed Shoe Pledge" (in fact, I'm not even linking to it!) -- I want people to be reading something of substance when they come here -- that I thought I would blog about it. I never got around to it until today. As I kept a finger on 9/11 and read up to today's entry, this is what I found:

"He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When others are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us." -- II Corinthians 1:4

And there you have it. I feel as though I have received a clear answer to my question. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I have got to pay forward the love and support God showered me with through the presence of the others who ministered to me during my dark valley experience. The strength and clarity and serenity he gave me in those first days were unlike any other experience I've ever had, and while I know I can never be that source for anyone else, I would like to be Jesus with skin on for them, a source for them to find comfort and to hear that God loves them no matter what and is, indeed, closer to them than they could understand, even in a time such as that.

In all my searching and pondering, I swear I have never read this verse before, and it just tumbled off the page like it was spring-loaded, waiting for me to stumble upon it. I'm going to cling to this verse and continue to pray and seek and see where this leads! I just know great things are coming...

Labor Day

Have you ever made a complete and total ass of yourself? No? OK, good, I was pretty sure I'm the only one who has...

I have spent this Labor Day torn between two activities: watching Hurricane Gustav news and updates like I watched on 9/11 (i.e., obsessively) and laboring over something in my heart.

I'm relieved that Gustav turned out to not be Katrina Part Deaux. (Would that be Katrina, Jr.? Can females be, "Jr.'s?" Who can know...) I think the next few days will be interesting as damage assessments begin to filter in and we get a better picture of actual damage done to the coast. Here's hoping that everyone will continue to do the right thing...

The other activity has consumed both my conscious and subconscious thoughts. It affected my dream last night that woke me with a start and left me with a sour taste in my mouth for most of the day. I know that the person against whom I have sinned does not read my blog; nonetheless, it wouldn't be appropriate to give the gory details thereof. Mainly, it would make me look like a major jerk, but the details are personal, so there you have it.

I knew, before I said the offending sentence, that what I was about to say was waaaaay out of line. I knew that it was going to end up being hurtful, even though I really didn't want to hurt this person. What I really wanted to do was underscore a point I was trying to make that this individual just didn't quite get, and I was getting fed up of trying to be reasonable. I was trying to get their attention and get them to see how frustrating this whole situation was. What resulted was me saying something terrible that cannot be taken back.

Have you ever experienced that minute pause in time when you felt it, where you formed the thought, it traveled to your mouth and rolled in the air between your soft palate and your tongue, which stood poised to project the evil thought into audible history? That split second where your conscience (a.k.a. the Holy Spirit) caught your breath before you pushed right past it in an effort to get your attention before you made a wound that would leave a scar behind, even if it healed?

I plunged right on past all the flashing signals and red lights into a terrible thing to say, and I can't take it back. I didn't really mean it, but it's been said.

I've gone back and replayed this in my mind, from start to finish. The conversation started innocently enough, but once it took a turn, the horses were out of the gate, and there was no stopping them. I apologized yesterday for what I said, and I feel the need to reaffirm my regrets now that I've had a chance to reflect. I don't expect this person forgave me yesterday, and quite frankly I don't know that they ever will. Now I've created this ugly space in the relationship that will bug me for months to come.

A friend of mine from FT Polk introduced this verse to me that I used to lay claim to almost daily, and I think, in light of last night's turn of events, it's worth revisiting:

"Set a guard, O LORD, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips." -- Psalm 141:3

The whole psalm is good, but this verse is perfect for those of us who suffer from verbal diarrhea. It's Pepto Bismol for the soul, I guess. (Oh dear, that's just foul!)

Something I've learned about myself through all this is that I'm a selfish, sinful person. I expect everyone I know to care about me, to care about what's going on in my life, my opinions and views on things, help me to think out or solve my problems, etc. I, in turn, want to be there for them. I want to know about what matters to my friends and loved ones, what touches them, what makes them cry, what they struggle with, the tedious details of their everyday lives. Not everyone likes or appreciates a psychostalker friend who acts this way; it's high maintenance. And I've also noticed that I'm not a person that people turn to when they are in need, and that breaks my heart. I've got to be the kind of friend I want to have, but I can't go around pretending I'm someone I'm really not. God has given me certain gifts and sensitivities that others may not have.

I may have jeorpardized this relationship for one stupid collection of words. I know I can ask forgiveness from God and that the sin will be wiped away, but I feel like the penance for consciously stepping outside the boundaries of grace-full living is paid a thousand times over in my heart...

Cascade Mountain High

"I will lift up my eyes to the mountains; from where shall my help come? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth. He will not allow your foot to slip; He who keeps you will not slumber." --Psalm 121:1-3 (NASB)

R. and I took the kids up to Mt. Rainier yesterday and had such a great time. Everywhere you go around here, Rainier stands patiently, majestically, always seeming just out of reach but always nearby. Bud and Lil' G affectionately call it, "Snowy Mountain." By the first five minutes out of the car, Lil' G was completely frustrated by slipping on the snow, but Bud wanted to ski. It's a weird feeling touching the snow and being insanely cold, yet baking in the sun because it's 85 degrees outside...







Despite the kids simply acting their ages, all four of us are having a wonderful time, enjoying being together and in one anothers' presence. I would love to report that we were enjoying cooler temperatures, but that would be a bold-faced lie. I can report that we are not having the same kind of intense, melt-your-brain-to-your-skull heat up here, but in a part of the country where homes are built with no air conditioning, even the slightest amount of unseasonable heat can seem ridiculous.

To top it all off with a heapin' helpin' of gravy, the sixth and best food group, I get to have a "MIRL" (read: Meet In Real Life) with the one and only, the bloggy queen of the Pacific Northwest, none other than Gretchen herself!!! She has most graciously opened up the hospitality of her home at the beach, complete with sand dollars and bald eagles, and we are anxious to take her up on it. Photos and details upcoming...

I leave you with what R. and I like to call a "Pookie Pic." We have collected these from all around the world. Now we have one on top of a dormant North American volcano, a.k.a., Mt. Rainier...

D-Dang!!

OK, so after that last post, I'm updating my desk calendar to see what today's verse was. Look what little gem He left under my pillow:

"Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him." --James 1:12

Man, He is soooo reading my mail. Gotta love it.

Happy Anniversary, Schmupps...

"Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God... Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom which cannot be shaken, let us have grace, by which we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear." --Hebrews 12:1-2, 28 (NKJV)

Dearest Tom,

I wanted to make my last verse dedicated to you. I think of you every time I read vv. 1 and 2, and it gives me such hope. It helps me endure the long days as they spread out before me, here without you, knowing that I am surrounded by you and others who love me and cheer me on, praying encouragement and strength over me.

Over this last year I really hope you have been saying extra prayers for me. I hope that God has allowed you to peek into my heart, and then again, I don't. The saying that "time heals all" has felt more like a cruel joke than words of wisdom. This year has been harder than any other since you died. The longer we are apart, the harder I struggle. So many times I feel myself falling, feeling so lost and out of sorts. I went through such a dark time, a season in which past hurts were choking out my happy memories of you like wild, bristly thistles in a delicate herb garden. Just when I am ready and willing to move on, I come across baggage like this that dashes my faith and my hope. As I wrote those letters where I was supposed to be forgiving you of being some inconsiderate person, I realized my own depravity, my own sinfulness against you and realized how desperately I needed your words of forgiveness.

As I sat there in the blazing Texas heat with my hand over where yours would be, six feet underneath me in white cotton gloves, my mind raced through a rolodex of memories we made. I remembered the song being played in the hangar as you were the last man in the door at the redeployment ceremony in FT Riley, and the travel-weary smile you gave me as I smothered you in a relieved hug. I remembered how you cried so hard you almost couldn't get out the words, "I love you," the first time you told them to me, the song you had picked out for that moment, and how I drove the two hours home in happy tears. I remembered the sound of your voice, your easy laugh, and the way your eyes danced when you smiled. I also remembered seeing you for one last time in the church. You laid there, in dress blues ready to be taken into the sanctuary one last time on the shoulders of the soldiers who loved you. You were in the same exact place we were standing after leaving the church when we married, and we did a 'high five' because we were exhilarated to finally be down the aisle. Our marriage began and ended in the same place; how strange...

I need to know you are in that cloud of witnesses, Tom. The kids need to know it, too. All three of us have such a long road ahead of us. I struggle with knowing how to incorporate you into our lives without breaking their hearts, or mine for that matter. The next chapter in our lives has already begun and is moving in a good, happy direction. How do I appropriately keep you in the family without hurting him? While I'm at it, how weird is it to love two insanely different men? I wish beyond all wishing that God would just allow you a couple of words to me, a kind of "seal of approval," on everything, just to let me know that I'm doing the right thing. I feel good about all the choices that I have made so far, but knowing that it would pass muster with you would give me enormous peace of mind.

I didn't ask to be plopped in the big middle of this race I'm in, but as long as I'm here, I want to do it right, to make it to the end not just with a huff and a puff, but with flying colors. All I can think of is to keep my head down and just keep going toward what I know is right -- to keep my heart open to God's words and my eyes focused on the cross. Just promise me that you will be there with the others to tell me, "Welcome home," when I make it across that finish line.

Happy 8th anniversary, Schmupps; I miss you...

Today's Verse: Psalm 100

I just woke up this morning feeling so refreshed and well -- I had a song in my heart! And this was it (coming from v. 4):

"1Make a joyful noise to the LORD, all the earth. 2Worship the LORD with gladness; come into his presence with singing. 3Know that the LORD is God. It is he that made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. 4Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise. Give thanks to him, bless his name. 5For the LORD is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations." (NRSV)

Maybe your joyful noise is musical -- singing, playing an instrument, etc. Maybe it's the sound of the washing machine as you conquer a week's worth of piled up laundry. Or perhaps it's the sound of the lawnmower as you maintain your yard. Today we are given love anew, grace anew, chances anew. The day is fresh, and the Shepherd has blessed us all with life for another day. Now get out there and enjoy your weekend!

Today's Verse: Proverbs 3:5-6

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths." (NKJV)

Direction is the word I received from this passage today. I had to go to the NKJV to find this wording. The NIV says that God will make our paths straight, but that imparts a completely differnent meaning to me. (Amazing how one holy book can have such differentiation...)

To me, I read the NIV and think about God taking the chaos of my life and ironing it all out. Taking away all the uncertainty, change, self-doubt, and voila -- just getting rid of it. Without these things that make me stagger around like toddler in her mothers heels, my paths will finally be straight. But I don't buy into that explanation.

I like the NKJV because it doesn't guarantee that straigtness of path. Instead, I hear God saying, "If you trust me with your heart, your life, your future, I will point you in the direction in which I know you need to go. There are no guarantees about straightness of path, bumpiness, or possible detours. But it's still the right direction to get you where you need to go, which is back to Me."

I began my day with a headache, again, as per usual it would seem. I woke up with an agitated spirit, an uneasiness that waxes and wanes within me like the cycles of the moon. (And no, S4J, I'm not PMSing! Haha!!) Someone described me yesterday as being "needy" in regards to a hypothetical situation, and the result of this conversation left me reeling in many ways. Some Most of you have never met me in person (man, I feel sorry for you!!! Haha, just kidding... sort of...), but if you've read many of my blogs, I'm a fairly independent person. Yes, I do accept help from others when I feel it's necessary or would benefit my mental health. But by-and-large, the word "needy" is not the first thing that comes to mind when I think about my personality traits.

This whole "needy" thing is not really necessary for you all to know, but it spurred me, once again, to consider the path that my life is on, if, in fact, it is even on one. I'm the kind of person that is passionate and driven most of the time, but am also wracked with self-doubt and lack of confidence at times. I see a million things I need to do, ways to improve the kind of mother that I am, the constant uncertainty of my future, and it makes me feel so trapped. And then, like the Casting Crows song, "Voice of Truth," says, I hear the voice of Jesus singing over me and can step out of that mire long enough to hear this encouraging word. As usual, I needed that boost in the "trust" and "faith" department.

Like most people in my age range, we feel like we have to have a sense of direction for our lives. Some women feel like they have to check off the "career" box before they can even entertain the thought of marriage or children. Others believe their career is to be in the home caring for their family. Men are expected to have ambition, drive, and goals, and those who gravitate back toward the womb and live out of their parents' basement are looked at as having no direction in their lives. We've got to be going somewhere, improving ourselves, preparing for retirement while we are still young enough to work ourselves to death. Our jobs, be they in or out of the home, domestic or otherwise, socially define us as who we are. Try telling a man you meet in a bar or on a blind date what you do for a living when you're a stay-at-home mom. It's a tough pill to swallow, not because I'm ashamed of it, but because of what everyone else's perception is of me.

Direction. How do we know if we're headed in the right one? There's a delicate balance for a modern Christian between praying and laying back, expecting God to pull off something fabulous, and "taking life by the horns" and doing it your way, which can be disatrous. I long for the days when my kids were infants. You had direction then: eat, sleep, poop. Now that my life has changed so much, I feel like I'm walking down that path in "Alice in Wonderland," where those weird animals are erasing the path Alice is walking on. Pretty soon, she's lost in the woods, looking around like, "Crap -- now where do I go?!?"

Alice didn't have her Bible with her, otherwise maybe she would've read this verse and not panicked so much. I need to put this verse in front of my face on a daily basis. I know this condition of my life won't change overnight, and verses like this give me hope that I'm doing the right thing. And even if I'm not, God does give second chances; it's never too late to change directions in that respect.

Direction, LORD, is what I need right now...

Today's Verse: Matthew 18:3-5

"And [Jesus] said: 'I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my names welcomes me.' "

I don't know about you, but I know I could take a lesson in humility and simplicity from my children on a daily basis. The things we expect our kids to do (using manners, not exploding in rage but handling our emotions maturely, etc.), the things we expect them not to do (cutting in line, selfishly putting one's own desires before that of another, making healthy choices of what they consume -- be it food, entertainment, ad nauseum...) and so on would be a daunting task for any adult. Yet, we expect them to adhere to these standards immediately. As the great sage Shawna (a friend of mine) has quipped, "To delay is to disobey." When it comes to our children, the rule is usually to do something the first time you are asked. How many times have we put off our kids with a, "In just a minute," or, "Let me get to a stopping point and then I'll..."???

Children see things so plainly, so distilled into one category or another: right or wrong, black or white, veggies or candy. They don't get caught up in nuances or hypotheticals. Partly because they can't process these complexities, but some days I don't think that's such a bad thing.

I have put off lots of important work I needed to do this summer: I still have papers to write for Lay Ministry, there are still obnoxious, ever-multiplying stacks of crapola in my office and kitchen, and I still have a cross-stitch birth record I started for Lil' G two months before she was born that is in my dresser of projects to be finished. Honestly, this list could get out of control. But I have resolved something at the beginning of this summer, and that is to cherish every moment. They are growing up under my nose, and these precious few years when our lives are so closely connected without the interruption of hormones, extra-curricular activity, and Hannah Montana are quickly slipping through my fingers. I want to see the world through the precious, innocent eyes of my children, hear their laughter at nonsense words, see the glow of summer sun on their soft skin. I want to take their example of humility and obedience and make it stick in my own heart so that I can model my expectations consistently and not be a hypocrite, someone who expects to have perfect kids while they slack off in the shadows.

These are undoubtedly the faces that will flash across my mind as my children grow up, move on, and worry over their own chilren. It just doesn't get any better than this.

Today's Verse(s): Baptism Narratives

For the sake of blogspace and your sanity, I will refrain from posting all of the narratives of Jesus' baptism here. Click on the title of today's blog to head over to Biblegateway.com if you don't have a Bible handy. For efficiency's sake, here's where I'm focusing for today:

Matthew 3:13-17
Mark 1:9-11
Luke 3:21-22
John 1:29-34

Actually, including the passage from John is kind of going through the "back door," so to speak. The first three gospels, a.k.a., the Synoptic Gospels, all share a common source, Quello, commonly called Q by Bible scholars, theologians, and other Bible nerds like me. It's a German word meaning, "Source." The Gospel of John did not gather information from Q and is therefore not part of the club. Instead, the account given in John is the testimony of John the baptizer, which is why I call it a back door. (In all honesty and accuracy, they are all based on testimony and oral tradition, but I've already taken you too far into the scholastic side than I need to; I just enjoy this kind of topic.)

ANYHOO! Right, so, we are looking at the baptism narratives. I've always been told that, if you find something in more than one gospel, then it's an extremely important concept or truth that the authors (plural!!) were trying to convey, regardless of who the target audience was for each gospel. The fact that all three synoptic gospels include this narrative is important, and even the authors of John thought it was crucial information to pass along.

We as 21st century, Westernized Christians (for the most part, that seems to be my readership) have several differing views of baptism, but it would appear that we all agree on the fact that it is a life-changing event. Many American/Non-denom's, Baptists, Methodists, and perhaps others along these denominational lines believe that you must make a personal choice to accept Jesus into your heart, and that is when you seal the deal with baptism. A common support for adult baptism is John 3:3, where Jesus says, "I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again."

I don't know about Episcopalians, Anglicans, various types of Catholics, or Presbyterians, but Lutherans deal with the concept of baptism differently. We believe that, through baptism, God comes to us and chooses us to be His people. There is nothing we can do to "work our way up" to God. We are not saved the day we are dipped into blessed waters. We were saved 2000 years ago when Jesus died on the cross. God comes to us and creates this covenant bond with us in the waters of our baptism, washes over our hearts with His agape, unconditional love. And just because you're baptized doesn't mean, "Ha, ha, Satan! I'm on home base!! Nanny-nanny boo-boo!" It's how we choose to let this affect our hearts and lives, or not, that seals the deal. Martin Luther said something to the effect of, "We are saved by grace through faith, and that not of our own." It is only by God's grace that He gives us the measures of faith we need to rely on Him. We don't have the power to naturally, or even cognizantly, choose to follow Him and do it right. Every single blog I read confirms that I'm not the only one in this sinking ship of life struggles! It is when we let the levees around our hearts erode away and let those baptismal waters overflow us that we truly "get it."

OK. I'm putting my Bible away, shutting my Strong's Exhaustive Concordance (that thing really is exhausting...), and I'm setting aside Luther's "Smalcald Articles" for another day. Yes, you're welcome. :)

"GGG, you lost me at 'Synoptic Gospels,' for cryin' out loud. I just want to read your verses, slam my Starbucks, and get on with life. I've got dinner going and two loads of laundry. Wrap it up, will ya?!?"

OK, fine. The point: some of the most sacred, breath-taking events in our lives are accomplished with as little as a whisper, seeming so ordinary, that if you blink, you've missed it.

Look quickly at the "main point" verses from the narratives:

Matthew 3:16 -- "As soon as Jesus was baptized, he went up out of the water. At that moment heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and lighting on him."

Mark 1:10 -- As Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove."

Luke 3:21-22a -- "When all the people were being baptized, Jesus was baptized too. And as he was praying, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended in him in bodily form like a dove..."

John 1:32 -- "Then John gave his testimony: 'I saw the Spirit come down from heaven as a dove and remain on him."

Insert Hollywood special effects here: Cue the Mormon Tabernacle Choir to sing "oohs" and "aahs" in six-part harmony, have the graphics people at The Weather Channel do some cool clouds-peeling-back-to-reveal-sunbeams stuff over Jesus, and have Jack Hanna provide a trained dove to do his thing.

On Saturday, I will celebrate my 17th baptismal anniversary. I was presented as a five year-old in the Lutheran church (coincidentally in the same place where I saw "Ghostbusters II"), and while the environment could've supported the special effects, I remember none of that being there. I'm pretty sure my mom was holding me, and our pastor, being the groovy '70s guy that he seemed to be to me, had a beard and looked a lot like Jesus. Other than that, it was just another day at church by all appearances to the naked eye.

Some friends of mine at church presented their tiny, precious baby girl for baptism this past Sunday. And while I'm the emotional sort to begin with, I was struck breathless by the simplicity and magnitude of what was going on. Family members came from all over the country, each contributing waters from those areas to the baptismal font, where her grandfather had traveled from Pennsylvania to perform the ceremony. And with three symbolic scoops of water passing over her soft, furrowed brow, that was it. Or was it?

The day we all find ourselves under these liberating waters is a cosmic event. You may or may not have consciously stepped up to the plate, but you've got God's mark on you now. This is a distinct line in the sand in terms of who we are, who we're called to be, and to whom we belong. And that cosmic, life-changing moment came and went so quickly, so quietly, like a whisper.

I remember so clearly the day Lil' G was baptized. We decided to strip her down and actually immerse her in the water, which caused MUCH scandal in the church we attended. I remember her looking up at me at one point, having been fussy, and not being able to grab a pacifier, offered my pinkie, which suited her fine at the time. But the look on her face took my breath away and reduced me to heavy sobs this Sunday. She looked at me, only six weeks old, with her father's eyes and smile, and seemed to say, "Mommy, I trust you." On that day, and every day since, I give her back to the One who gave her to me, and Bud as well.

I also recalled the day Tom was baptized. He ended up being baptized in December 1999, and it was a proud day in his mind. The look I remember seeing on his face was one of strength and purpose. He was baptized, several others of us joined the church as well, we sat down, and the service went from there. Over so quickly. Six years later, his life was over so quickly. The rupture of the aorta going to his brain, sending the pressure in his brain almost five times greater than it can to sustain life functions, happened without a sound. The machines connected to him gave away the internal secret. When he was taken off the breathing machine to see if he was brain dead, he breathed two miniscule, shallow breaths and laid there so peacefully, so quiet and serene.

The sacred moments in our lives, the times in which God couldn't be any closer to us if He tried, are so fleeting. From the day God reaches out and grabs hold of us through our baptismal waters, to the day we celebrate our birthday into His presence, we don't want to let those sacred moments go by unnoticed and uncherished. Revel in them, and celebrate them.

Today's Verse: Genesis 2:7-8, 18-23

OK, everyone, another longer passage, but I promise a brief commentary. Gretchen over at Jewels In My Crown...Someday inspired me to post this, which I'll explain later. Here we go!

"The LORD God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being. Now the LORD God had planted a garden in the east, in Eden; and there he put the man he had formed.

"The LORD God said, 'It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.' Now the LORD God had formed out of the ground all of the the beasts of the field and all the birds of the air. He brought them to the man to see what he would name them; and whatever the man called each living craeture, that was its name. So the man gave names to all the livestock, the birds of the air and all the beasts of the field. But for Adam no suitable helper was found. So the LORD God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleping, he took one of the man's ribs and closed up the place with flesh. Then the LORD God made a woman from the rib He had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man. The man said, 'This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called 'woman,' for she was taken out of man.' "

Phew! OK. I hope I can convince you to keep reading, because this is one of THE MOST EXCITING PASSAGES of the Bible to me. I literally thrill every time I get to explain it. In my opinion, if one truly understands this passage, there is no reason to not want to believe in God, but that's just my opinion.

I know many people really hear God speaking to them in the New Testament, and I definitely believe all of the Bible to be important. It has been, however, in the last year that my perspective has changed. I see many Christians using the New Testament and the Ten Commandments as the restrictions and boundaries for their lives, and it really saddens me. Rather than seeing the New Testament as an extension of what can be learned from the Old Testament, it becomes the fundamental, final word for their lives, and ultimately the Gospel becomes another form of law. The Christian, and Lutheran, in me cringes and rebels instinctively when I hear this! The Gospel is not to be used in this way!! But that's a different argument for a different day... Gretchen pointed out that she tends to read more of the NT than the OT, and that many parts of the OT can be, well, "dry" to put it lightly. While I have to agree when we get to the loooong parts after the Ten Commandments about rules and regulations, etc., I think there's more to the OT than meets the eye.

I wish people could view the NT in light of the second creation story. OMG!!! Yes, I did just say that there are two creation narratives in the Bible. (There are also two flood narratives, FYI...) The first creation story is the older of the two, but today we're looking at the "younger" story.

The first creation story focuses on God, Elohim, and establishing that He is inherently good and all that He creates is inherently good and not evil. Man, NOT A GUY NAMED ADAM, is created after heaven, earth, sea, and creatures. Elohim is a Hebrew word meaning, "God," in a basic understanding. It implies majesty and divinity, just to keep it simple here for our purposes. The Hebrew word, 'adam, simply means mankind, and has a common root with the Hebrew word for earth, ground, land, and country. Interesting, huh?!?

OK, this is cool, but not my point. (If I said this was going to be brief, I guess I lied -- I just love looking at creation stories!) Taking what we know about the first creation story, I want to look at how the second one is different and why that matters so much to me. The name of God used in the second story is YHWHY, what we Christians call Yahweh. In Hebrew this word is perfectly symmetrical (in English it would be a palindrome) and contains no vowels (because Hebrew doesn't include them). Why is God called by two very distinct, different names? Here is the ENTIRE point of this post: RELATIONSHIP. As explained in my Key Word Study Bible, "The covenant name of God most prominently known in connection with His relationship with the nation of Israel." Because this name is so holy to our Jewish brothers and sisters, they will not pronounce it, but rather substitute the name Adonai here.

Relationship! That, my friends, is the key to the entire Bible. You have just learned the secret to why we have been created, why Jesus came in fulfillment of Scriptures, why we will be called home to meet our maker. Relationship! As in, He wants one with us!! Yes, even us.

In this version of the story, man is the first thing created. Adonai then goes on this mission of knowing Adam's heart, knowing that He created us for companionship, and bringing about all these other amazing creations in an effort to find that companionship for man. He allows Adam to give names to everything. I picture Adonai, like a parent at Christmas, giddy as His children get to find that last, hidden, unwrapped gift hiding behind the Christmas tree, the one real gift that they really wanted at Christmas but thinking Santa passed them by, only to stumble upon THE ultimate gift! This gift giving started at creation, continued through Jesus' sacrifice, and continues on even today and on down the road.

And the relationship doesn't stop there. Now that you can see this, go back and read Exodus. Read I and II Samuel. Read Daniel. Read as the children of Israel bitch and moan about being taken care of in the desert, after being rescued from generations of slavery and poverty. Read as God wipes everything off the face of the earth, save the faithful family of Noah. Read as we humans deserve, time and time again, to descend into the pit, but God is not willing that any of us should die, but have eternal life. He doesn't have to give us all these chances, but He does. WOW!!!

Relationships. That's it in a nutshell.

Today's Verse: Psalm 71:14-15

"But as for me, I will always have hope; I will praise You more and more. My mouth will tell of Your righteousness, of Your salvation all day long, though I know not its measure."

Wow. Thank You, Father, for that. For hope. For offering us rest during times of trial or tumult. During the busy days and the fretful hours. During the potty training and the loose teeth. For the hope that we are not alone in our lives and that You truly want good things for us, things so good, in fact, that we cannot even conceive of them. Even though we can't begin to fathom the measure of God's grace and benevolence towards us, we know it is real.

Hope. It's all I'm asking for.