What Will You Give?

Every year at Christmas two prominent questions circulate through families: “What do you want?” and “What did you get?” If we aren’t intentional, the idea of giving takes a back seat to our own wish lists of toys and treasures.

After the celebrations are over, how often do we ask this question, “What did you give for Christmas?” And, how do we teach our children about the joy of giving when we bombard them with questions about what they want? Don’t misunderstand me. I love the excitement of surprising my children with things under the tree and watching their faces light up when I open a gift they’ve specially chosen for me. But, how do we, who have been blessed with so much, extend beyond our four walls and demonstrate to those who have nothing that we care? Jesus, the most costly gift ever given, came for all humanity, including the poor and downtrodden. If we do nothing to reach out, what example are we setting for our families? Will that not perpetuate self-centeredness?  

Most years we purchase gifts for children through the Salvation Army Angel Tree program. Every year, with a deadline looming, I frantically shop for gifts with minutes to spare and lug them to the drop off site. The announcement at dinner, “Hey, I bought gifts today from our family for a little girl who wouldn’t have any presents under the tree,” falls flat evidenced by their impassionate, uninvolved nods.

Like the contests that require one to be present to win, so children must participate to learn the inestimable value of giving. So this year for the first time, my daughter, Maddie and I trudged through stores searching for just the right things for two girls. How much better to have my daughter with me to save these girls from some serious fashion faux pas had I been shopping solo!

After delivering the bags of gifts, the field trip experience began to impact Maddie’s mind. She asked, “So, you mean, this is all these girls are going to receive for Christmas?”

“Yes, Maddie.”

“And, they won’t know we gave it to them?”

“Nope.”

“Wow! That’s really cool, Mom. They can’t even repay us or say thank you.”

“No, it’s just like what Jesus did for us when he came as a baby. He gave with no strings, and we can never repay him.”

After a bit of silence, my 12-year-old wistfully whispered, “I sure wish I could see their faces when they open those gifts.”

“Me too, Maddie. Me too.”

I know the One who gave us Himself sees those young girls open the small gifts we gave in His name. And now, my daughter sees as well—that we can impact the world around us—one gift of love at a time.

What will you give this Christmas?

photo credit: amandacphoto via photopin cc

Dealing with Disappointment

Last week, while out of the country with my hubby, I received a distressing email from a colleague removing me from a writing project. It wasn’t her decision, and while she tried to spill the beans as gently as possible, the news still wounded, inflamed jealousy, and incited anger. My head understood the reasons why, but my heart felt that I deserved more for the hours logged tapping keys. Ill-timed in the middle of a glorious trip in the Serengeti Desert, perhaps the earth-shattering update could’ve waited for a face to face conversation. Still, there's no such thing as perfect timing for painful news, is there?

Life is filled with the unexpected, isn’t it? We never anticipate what is around the next bend in the road. Most of the time, we truck along without thinking about any potential head-on crashes or side swipes. We don’t anticipate someone or something interrupting our smooth sailing, and in a split second, life changes.

The surprising diagnosis of breast cancer, startling death of a loved one, abrupt end of a marriage, miscarriage in late pregnancy, estranged family relationship, unplanned pregnancy, loss of a writing job can happen as sudden as it takes to send an email across the world. Unfortunately, I know real live people, including me, who have been the recipients of such devastating reports in recent days.

Unfortunately, sucking in breath on God’s green earth equates to facing disappointment at some point. I can’t press the escape or delete key when it comes to tragedy. Because I live in a broken world, unforeseen events come with the territory. I can choose, however, how I respond to these unplanned catastrophes.

My human nature cries, “Unfair!” I certainly deserve better than this, right?! The very phrase I spout so quickly to my children comes ringing back in my ear, “Life is not fair.” It’s so much easier to say than experience. The two year old in me emits its ugly self as I pout and stomp my feet in rebellion against this unpredicted bend in the road. I didn’t ask for this interruption, and the world will know it.

Yet, there is another way to handle these crises that crash into my life without warning. I’ve coined it, “But…God,” simply because when I frame the disruption of my plan in the light of His purpose, my perspective changes. Down deep, I am convinced God desires the best for me, so I know He will somehow work good in even this out of the blue predicament. And yes, the Enemy lurks, evil abounds and life happens, so I shouldn’t be surprised that my journey feels like a roller coaster that jumped off the tracks.

Still, God promises His presence always, in every situation, no matter how ugly. And I’ve witnessed that truth firsthand—through divorce, single-parenting, financial pressures, parenting teens, difficult family relationships and now this writing obstacle. I don’t understand God’s plan and purpose, but He sees what I do not see. His vision is perfect; mine is flawed. Thus, while I deal with disappointment and specifically this setback, I trust God to work more of His character in me and reveal my new direction.

What disappointments have you faced? What has been your typical response?

“We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.” Romans 5:3-5 NLT

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How's Your Eyesight?

“Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

Matthew 6:21

If our treasures steer our hearts, what does it mean when women can tote boxes and bags of clothes, books, baby items, canned food and other miscellaneous objects to donate and still have a houseful of goodies? It’s surely a generous act to think of others in need; however, what does it say about us that we possess that much overflowing our closets and homes? That we can give away items we will miss as much as the $5.00 we drop at Starbucks without a second thought.

Almost the length of one wall in this massive room was piled with items going to 8 different organizations within the community and beyond: Crisis Pregnancy Center, My Sister’s Closet, Honduras, New Leaf New Life, Kirkwood Mealshare, Salvation Army, Shalom Center and Backstreet Missions. The idea behind “possessions” week, the 3^rd chapter in the Jen Hatmaker study, The 7 Experiment, involved giving away our castoffs to those less fortunate.

To get the back story regarding this particular study, read these earlier posts about food and clothes. The premise about possessions, according to Jen, is this: “How do we manage our wealth, financial priorities, and possessions with godliness and integrity?” Instantly convicting when I consider how American culture impacts and influences my decisions regarding the belongings with which I simply can’t survive. With brimming food pantries, bulging closets, bursting toy chests and wall-to-wall furniture, what possesses me to shove more into my four walls? And, just how large are my four walls?

Just think about it for a minute. When we get married, we most likely first reside in an itty bitty apartment with one bedroom, one bath, a kitchen and living room. We can’t buy too much or our furniture will push us out the door.  My son and daughter-in-law live in an apartment like that with just barely enough room for a table that seats four and a small sectional.

However, as typical Americans, we save money so that someday we can purchase a larger space for our expanding family. God forbid we should live in an apartment for the rest of our lives and waste rent money. We need an investment and more acreage. After all, when we birth our children, they each need their own rooms and a colossal yard with a swing set and trampoline (with an enclosure, of course). Our new place will need a play room otherwise their bedrooms will be overrun with toys. Oh, and we need a bathroom for mommy and daddy, one for guests and perhaps a jack and jill for the little ones. We buy into this mentality because we drink the Kool-Aid, we live in America, and frankly, this is just how we do it here. So, we move into our new place after living in an apartment the size of an anthill, and immediately, our one table with 4 chairs and sectional look lonely in that colossal castle. More house means more stuff to collect. And so, the vicious cycle of buying, filling, purging, buying, filling, purging begins.

Lest you think I’m censuring everyone that lives in a nice house with a bedroom for each child and a big backyard with a playground, I’m looking at my own reflection. I bought into the American dream with a mammoth mansion of 5 bedrooms and four baths. Can you say crazy? Actually, it didn’t seem that big when all 5 of us filled the place, and it certainly came in handy for those big family gatherings—once a year. But, could we have been just as happy in a smaller, more conservative house boasting three bedrooms and fewer bathrooms? In terms of cleaning, I shout a resounding yes!

Happiness doesn’t depend on the size of my house or the number of possessions I own; instead, it’s found within relationships—of my husband and my children and those whom I welcome inside these walls. Who cares about the wall art, the furniture and the décor? Do those who walk through my door feel love, acceptance and kindness? Or, do I apologize for the cluttered counter, the dog’s diarrhea stain on the carpet or the mound of unfolded clothes still on the sofa? Do I convey to guests that I am embarrassed that our master bedroom and bathroom are as large as our living room and kitchen combined—that it seems grossly extravagant? Why do I feel this need to explain, justify, and apologize when friends come over to connect not criticize?

I’d like to think that stuff isn’t that important to me, but I believe down deep I’m just deceiving myself. I freely donate my daughter’s clothes to one of her friends; I’ve given away many books, furniture and other things our family doesn’t use; we support various non-profit organizations; we sponsor a World Vision child in Africa; and yet, we still accumulate. Our culture tells us we need the latest gadgets and gismos. We covet what our friends’ purchase. Going to the mall fuels our desire for more. It becomes an insatiable thirst to keep up with others.

Jen says, “Darkness is never more dangerous than when we’re plunged in it and think we can see.” The question lingers: do I think I have good eyes, but a 2x4 blocks my vision? Without my contacts, people appear like blurry blobs of flesh. Occasionally, my hubby will ask me as we prepare for bed if my “eyes” are still in so I can give my opinion about his clothing choice for the next morning. If I’ve already removed my contacts, I scoot about two inches from what he’s holding, squint to bring the objects into focus and give him a yes or no. Those with horrible eyesight understand the significant impact contacts or glasses make in bringing objects into focus. Without them, a world is formless and a mesh of colors blending together.

If I acknowledge my physical eyesight is no good without correction, what about my spiritual eyesight? What are the lies with which I convince myself about money and possessions?

“I’m doing enough already.”

“Someone else will help.”

“I’ve worked hard, so I deserve this.”

“I’m buying this for a good reason.”

So, now what? Do we put our houses on the market and sell everything we own because of the pile of guilt in our front yard? Most likely not, unless God has directed you to. Or, do we carry on as usual, accumulating assets, ignoring the great needs around us? Nope, not this either! Actually, change begins when we remove the scales from our eyes to see the needs around us. We make small steps in the direction of giving, serving and helping whenever and wherever we see an opportunity.

“Every day we have incremental chances to store up heavenly treasures, to foster good eyes, to be filled with light, to serve and love our God and His people.” Jen Hatmaker

I desperately desire to foster good eyes, how about you?

What are the lies you tell yourself about money and possessions?

What can you do this week to be generous?

Growing in Generosity

Being generous is not always easy, but this year I am being challenged to become more giving in a variety of ways. So often, generosity is associated with money, but it’s much more than that. We can offer more of our time, be gracious in relationships, or sacrifice our desires for the sake of someone else.

I first grasped this thing called “generosity” when was in elementary school, about 100 years ago, with an experience that is engraved on my mind forever. My mom was the leader of a group called Campfire Girls which is similar to Girl Scouts. On this particular day, our group had visited the elderly in a local nursing home. Each girl was paired up with another person with whom we exchanged gifts. My sweet lady gave me an Uno candy bar, so wildly popular it’s no longer in existence today. As we were dropping girls off at their homes in our white hippy van, this chocolate marshmallow bar called my name repeatedly asking me to partake. Mom ordered me not to open it in front of everyone else unless I was prepared to share.

The temptation was too great; I ignored her instructions, unwrapped it and bit off a morsel. Mom immediately pulled the van over to the side of the road and demanded that I exit and walk. Shocked, I stumbled out and watched as she drove AWAY. Can you even believe it?! I should’ve recalled her knack for follow through! Ambling aimlessly, I hoped she’d return to give me a ride home. Eternity stretched out giving me time to ponder my disrespect, my lack of generosity. When the van returned, it was empty except for Mom

If she lectured me, I don’t recollect. It doesn’t really matter, because I will never forget the lesson etched on my heart about the importance of sharing with others. And, she believed it was so important that leaving me on the side of the road to ponder my actions was insignificant compared to me thinking of those less fortunate—even when it involves sharing a silly candy bar.

Think about how you can be generous, even when it seems insignificant, with your family, friends, the grocery store clerk, the waitress, or the Starbucks coffee server. Offering a kind word, the last bite, a bigger tip, a bit of understanding for a hard day, a gentle response can go a long way and just may change someone’s day!

New York City Makeover

Pinky, Reesie, La La, Noica—these are some of the names of women my daughter,  Alix and I encountered last week in a New York City women’s shelter. Women broken by life and some by husbands. Women mentally ill in some cases. A group of 55 women traveled from Indiana to share the love of Jesus by washing dirty feet, massaging stressed hands, helping them choose a new outfit, styling straggly hair and putting makeup on tired faces and seeing smiles brighten once dark countenances.  As we encouraged this women with the words, “God loves you; you are valuable to Him,” we viewed visible changes. Shuffled feet became springy steps. Loud laughter replaced angry words. God visited this place where broken down, discarded women live. 

What did I learn on this trip to beautify women who feel ugly and unnoticed?

1.      Makeovers can change a person from the outside in. When you feel ugly, you act ugly. It works the same in my own life.  The day I throw on my shabby sweats and glasses sans makeup to make a quick trip to the grocery is one in which I prefer to remain incognito. Slink in and slink out because I’m feeling unkempt. These women, however, experience day upon day feeling forgotten and frumpy.  As ladies bounced from station to station, whether choosing a new outfit or sitting for someone to apply their makeup, a visible transformation like Cinderella emerging from her cinder-stained face and garments took place. Worn out, lackluster women began to believe the words each station worker voiced. “You are beautiful to Jesus; He loves you; you are not trash.”  

2.      Even homeless women desire to be heard and touched. I caressed hands and paid attention to some who had lost their identity, values and families. I listened to women speak with foreign accents and others mentally bewildered with stories a mile long. While tragic circumstances and even poor decisions had landed them in this place, my purpose lay in feeling their pain, hearing their cries and conveying that God sees them and knows their names.

3.      God doesn’t want me to be comfortable. It’s scary to step out of your comfort zone and do something you’ve never done before. Yet when I feel unqualified, He promises to equip me; I just need to be willing and available. Fear can hold us back from doing things God wants to do in and through us to impact the world around us. It’s the first step that’s the scariest! As I began to massage the first hand, heart thumping in my chest, I felt completely lost. Thoughts swirled in my brain, “What can I say that would make a difference to this wounded woman? How do I help and encourage her?” I jumped in with both feet, like Peter jumping out of the boat to walk on water to Jesus, and each conversation became easier and more comfortable, as God gave me His words and His strength.

4.      Serving brings great joy. By the end of the day, I was tired and spent, yet filled with joy because God had used me, in spite of all my fears and feelings of inadequacy. Not only had the women’s spirits brought me delight because of their physical transformations, but also the simple act of pouring out spilled gladness everywhere. Excitement and laughter filled the room as women departed in joyful thankfulness. The act of serving blessed me far more than it did these women.

5.      God is in the transformation business, not me. The word says, “Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord Almighty.” (Zechariah 4:6) My job this particular weekend was not to judge these women or force and cajole them to be different. Too often, I try to manipulate others through guilt trips or other methods. During this experience, my role was to listen, love and pray for these women and allow the Holy Spirit to work on their hearts. After all, Jesus is the only one who can create a clean heart in anyone. How freeing it is to know that someone’s transformation is not up to me yet realize that I have a vital part in relaying the message of love and everlasting life to those living in dark and desperate circumstances.

Perhaps this last lesson hit me the hardest as I reflect on the way I treat my family, my friends and others I encounter daily. My micro-managing and manipulation of others is ineffective and a poor substitute for the mighty power of God to change a life completely.  I am to be a vessel God can use, a conduit of His love and grace to those around me, so they can infected with His Spirit. In my willingness for God to work in and through me to impact my children, my church, my community, I pray that God pours out His Spirit in magnanimous ways, that I am not a hindrance to the work He wants to do in someone’s life, and most of all, that I always give God the glory for the changes that occur!

A Tween's Example

Every night when we tuck Maddie in, we take turns praying. For the past several years, on Maddie’s night to pray, she talks to God about Uncle Tim’s back. Every.single.time. One particular night, she asked me, “Why doesn’t God answer my prayer? How come Uncle Tim’s back is still hurting?”

“I don’t know, Maddie. I just know God is not like a magician. He doesn’t simply wave a magic wand and make everything the way we want it. Sometimes, He wants us to learn to trust Him in the midst of our unanswered prayers.”

Through the years of modeling prayer, we’ve prayed about school, friendships, sickness, bad attitudes and everything else in between. This little girl is grasping the importance of talking to Jesus about everything. A few weeks ago, she heard that her dear friend’s mother was experiencing some health issues. She immediately created a card, mailed it and began praying for her. Everyday, she’d ask, “Do you think she got my card yet, Mom?”

One day, I received a text from this sweet friend relaying thanks to my daughter for the card and the request she had placed in the prayer basket at church. My friend just happened to be on the 24 hour prayer chain that particular day and cried as she read Maddie’s heartfelt request for God to heal. It moved me too knowing that my daughter is realizing the importance of crying out to Jesus for every need.

I am often proud of my children for their school and sports accomplishments. But this particular day, Maddie’s developing prayer habit for those in need surpassed any champion medal she could’ve received. Her commitment to bring someone suffering before the God of the universe caused me to ponder my own passion to pray. What a beautiful reminder that God desires that our first impulse be to bring our concerns before Him, large or small.

In fact, a few days later, Maddie rattled off her own prayer request before boarding the school bus. “Hey, can you pray that I’m nice to Clay today and that I do well on my test?” How grateful I am that God hears our sincere petitions for kindness to that person who is difficult to love. Maddie’s example reminds me to bring all my concerns to my Savior who hears me whenever I call.   

A Dangerous Little Pest

Envy lurks at my door.  Just when I think I’ve moved past its grip, I visit a friend’s palatial home, admire shoes beyond my budget or gaze longingly at a piece of jewelry completely out of my price range. Young and old experience the reach of jealousy’s jaws even though the price and type of toys we long for changes. Why can’t we be satisfied with God’s gifts? What causes us to want increasingly more including those things others’ own? 

This problem with envy is as old as time itself.  Characters in Scripture, Cain and Abel, Jacob and Esau, Joseph and his brothers, and David and Saul struggled with envy. King Solomon accurately stated there is nothing new under the sun.  Cain’s envy caused him to kill his brother because of a sacrifice; Esau’s jealousy over Jacob stealing his birthright caused him to also consider murder.  Joseph’s brothers sold him into slavery because of a colorful coat and his father’s favoritism.  Saul sought to kill David after hearing the people shout, “Saul has slain his thousands, David his ten thousands.”  He eyed him with envy from that day forward. 

While I haven’t descended so far as to attempt murder, I have regarded others’ luxuries with eyes of jealousy. My focus isn’t always material possessions either.  While not immune to envying items such as homes, boats, cars and clothes, I more frequently wistfully regard spiritual things like other women’s giftedness, areas of service or places of ministry.  Gee Lord, I wish I could sing like her.  Why didn’t I get asked to teach?  Why can’t I lead that group?  This truth hits so many of us who serve in the church.  We desire other’s gifts and areas of ministry in which God has blessed them. 

As I confess my envy of other’s accomplishments, I take the sting out of its affect on my life.  If Saul would’ve repented of his envy over David’s prowess in battle, think of what accomplishments Saul and David could’ve achieved together.   How much greater could the Kingdom of Israel have been if Saul had focused on making God’s name more famous than his own? If Saul had encouraged and promoted David in his battles on behalf of Israel, might he have benefited as well? The fear that plagued Saul pesters me as well. God, will there be fewer gifts for me since you dumped all these blessings on them?  Why do we think God’s resources have limits?  Scripture says our God owns the cattle on a thousand hills. (Psalm 50:10)   

Satan uses my envy to distract me from the life God has called me to live.  If I’m consumed with comparing my gifts with others, wondering why they seem more blessed than me, complaining to my Creator about the unfairness of his gift-giving, I am opting out of the place where God desires me to minister.  No one else can fulfill the calling on my life but me.  If I want to be someone else, who will be me?  I must quit comparing my life and my gifts with my friends’ lives and gifts and live for One who made me and gave me a specific purpose to carry out.  I should encourage others in their gifts so they can also fulfill God’s purpose in their lives.

Perhaps as I am faithful to exercise the gifts with which God has blessed me, working diligently in the place God has called me, He can entrust me with more. When I am careless and bury my talent like the man in Matthew 25, even what I have been given will be removed.

Father, 

May I be grateful for the gifts with which you have blessed me. Help me to keep from the sin of either spurning or burying what you have so graciously given. May I realize that if I do not use my gifts, the work to which you have called me will not be done. Keep me from looking to my left or right, the sin of comparison. I desire to focus my eyes on You, the abundant Giver of all good and perfect gifts.

Ready for Something New!

There’s something exciting about the word “new”, don’t you think? We love to shop for a new outfit, get a fresh pedicure, sit for a makeover, and purchase new pillows or pictures for our homes. After a sleepless night, who doesn’t want to begin anew? What drought affected and deer decimated garden doesn’t crave replanting? Who knew those beautiful creatures could destroy a zucchini plant in one night of feasting? From the latest vacation to the purchase of school supplies, we love new things.

If we aren’t careful, however, we can get caught up in obtaining the latest new-fangled contraption. Some of us find ourselves in debt because of our impulsive need for the new. This dangerous trap is the primary reason I avoid the mall. If I don’t go, I don’t see the latest Vera bag, iPod or Target tee. Who hasn’t visited Target for a handful of items and exited with a cartful?  

Perhaps it’s healthy for us to cling to the word “renew”—to make new again. Some have perfected the art of creating new from old in the physical realm. They transform worn-out furniture into beautiful pieces, or repair and repaint a car from the 50’s, or remodel a dingy home into something amazing. Our fascination with this type of creativity is evident in the plethora of shows broadcast into our living rooms each day. Something deep within us resonates with the old being transformed into something not only usable but also beautiful.  

The Master Creator planted this desire for newness inside of us. Our hearts and minds are corrupted without God renewing them. Too often we rely on our own willpower and strength to invoke virtuous thoughts and upright behavior. Yet, all our human effort can’t accomplish this task. Isaiah 64:6 states that all our righteous acts are like filthy rags. Thus, I can stake no hope in my own dogged determination to do or be good. And, even if I can outwardly appear charming, kind and benevolent, my heart may be loaded with bitterness, anger and envy. Scripture points me to Jesus as my only hope for renewal. He who spoke the world into existence from chaos is the only one who can restore and refresh my infected heart and mind.

So I pray, “Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.” (Psalm 51:10) Then I reflect on His word.

            “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.” (2 Corinthians 4:16)

            “who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.” (Psalm 103:5)

            “but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)

Later this week, when my family departs for vacation, I will recall this to mind. While I rest, relax and renew physically, I remember that true heart and mind renewal comes via my God. He makes my spirit new every single day as I tap into His never-ending supply.

            “Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you. Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage. As they pass through the Valley of Baca (tears or weeping), they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools. They go from strength to strength, till each appears before God in Zion.” (Psalm 84:4-7)

Drink Up!

“Mom?” Alix muttered over the phone. “I don’t think I can drive home. Can you come get me?”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m really shaky and having trouble breathing. My hands and legs are numb.”

“I’ll be there in a minute. Hang tight.” Tony and I rushed out the door leaving the rest of the family with more questions than answers. As we sped toward the Subway where Alix worked, I dialed 911 just.in.case. The ambulance arrived as we were pulling into the parking lot. I scrambled out of the car to the open van door, Alix sprawled in the back seat, perspiring profusely.

The paramedics asked questions, trying to assess her condition. What were her symptoms? When did they begin? They took her blood pressure. More questions. More assessments. Alix, disoriented and dazed, stammered through queries from all of us. She started cramping and feeling dizzy at work.  No, she hadn’t eaten anything today. No, she hadn’t drank anything today. Her tongue felt thick, and she couldn’t enunciate. Her limbs felt numb. She was hot.

The paramedics suggested we transport her to the hospital for evaluation. They were definitely amenable to ferrying her there with all the bells and whistles for a fair amount of dollars, but given the tests didn’t appear to show anything life threatening, these sympathetic professionals gave us the ultimate decision. Minutes later, Tony zipped towards the hospital with Alix stretched across the seat, slurring and sweating.

I reminisce about events that occurred a year before when we received another phone call informing us that Alix had fainted at the pool. Sweltering heat. High humidity. No drink. No food. Yep, her hands and feet were numb then as well. A few years before that, she felt dizzy and disoriented by another poolside. The boiling temperature of summer, again. A pattern emerges. And before that? During a gymnastics choreography session, Alix, shaky, light-headed and sensing numbness in her limbs, was forced to stop.  How many times had we told her? Stay hydrated. Even if you aren’t thirsty, drink!

And, this particular day? She hadn’t eaten a morsel all day. She scared us half to death, and now we careened around corners like Nascar drivers. Once in the emergency room, nurses plied her with questions and poked her arm for blood. The doctor tested her for this, that and the other, ruling out all types of diseases and conditions except for the one sitting in the back of my mind all along—dehydration. Yep, she inherited the propensity for this nagging condition honestly. With six dehydration fainting episodes in my lifetime, Alix threatens to pass me by like Secretariat blowing past Sham in the Kentucky Derby.  And, it’s all due to the dilemma of not consuming enough liquid.

Like Alix, I rarely feel thirsty. Hours pass before I sense the urge to sip anything; even morning coffee is more of a ritual than a need for liquid. Occasionally, I wonder if I’m an anomaly, for a friend can hammer down three ice teas to my one in the course of a 2 hour lunch. And, of all known drinks, water never sounds appealing. When exercising, I force myself to gulp water by filling up two large jugs to be emptied by the end of the day. Since I don’t desire to add a seventh fainting episode to my existing achievements, I carry my tervis tumbler in the car for easy access. I’m nurturing my desire for water by removing other drink temptations and keeping the true thirst quencher at hand.

Much like my physical thirst, I must cultivate spiritual thirst. So often, I’m not thirsty for God. I want to drink at other wells: social media, shopping, television, friends, books or ministry. I expect these items to fill me up, but they, like drinks substituted for water, only temporarily satiate.  While coffee, tea and soft drinks are certainly tastier than water, if I drink them excessively and exclusively, they can cause dehydration. Lack of adequate fluids can cause serious repercussions and just might land a person in the hospital emergency room.  However, if I replenish with the real deal, I quench my thirst and don’t require the poor replacements. Similarly, when I seek fulfillment through other avenues instead of filling up with Him, my energy wanes, and I face spiritual dehydration. I need refreshment from the Life-giver.

How do I change my taste buds and develop a thirst for that which is refreshing and reviving? How do I exchange my desire to quench myself by stalking friends on Facebook, consuming a thrilling page-turner or serving in a motivating ministry? Even ministry can deplete our reserves when we seek fulfillment there rather than relationship with our Creator. Sooner or later, we will crash and burn. Many recognize this yet continue to drink from draining sources. In light of this, what are ways we can build our thirst for Him?

Drink Deliberately. Just like pushing myself to down water, I purposefully study God’s word. The more I do this, the more it becomes a habit, like brushing my teeth or fastening my seat belt. When I miss my minutes with God, I wonder what He had planned to reveal to me that day. Depleted of my reviving resources, I fail and fizzle out in managing my time wisely, treasuring relationships and handling household responsibilities. My water intake affects my energy output in the same manner my deliberate devotion does.

Refresh Repeatedly. I drag a bottle of water with me wherever I travel. A number of times, I’ve rushed back into the house in a panic for the water overlooked. Like the blanket my son lugged everywhere we trekked, I keep that tumbler of water nearby. It’s handy for a sip whenever I need the cool liquid. In the same way, I remain aware of God’s presence throughout the day. I swallow frequently, breathing prayers while washing clothes or dishes. I read an email and pray for a friend. Watching a bird at the feeder, I thank God for His beautiful creation and how He even takes care of the birds. Making lunches for the girls causes me to be grateful for the food we have to eat. I drink deeply when taking care of ministry matters, giving God glory for what He is doing in other women’s lives. God is my spring of living water from which I drink deeply throughout my day.

"...Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life." (John 4:13-14)

I wish I could say I’ve conquered my thirst problem. I fully intend to order water at restaurants, but when faced with the temptation of a big glass of iced tea, I cave. So many times, I succumb to my craving instead of what will truly invigorate. Still, I am working on it. Being aware of my tendency to become easily dehydrated propels me to choose healthy habits more often. In the same way, I gravitate towards the God who can refill and refresh me to overflowing so that I have unlimited supply to spill out in my home, ministry and community.

Drink deeply; He is the spring that will never run dry!    

 

Storage Secrets

The town in which I was raised our family relocated like nomadic gypsies. While we lived in the same small berg for 14 years, we moved five times, an average of 2.8 years in each abode. We didn’t allow much time to let the grass grow before we set our sights on new digs. I’m not certain the reasons behind all these moves from one end of town to the other. I don’t think we were run out of neighborhoods for too many dandelions or breaking a noise ordinance. We displayed our washing machine in the house, not the front porch, like a redneck might. It’s not like my parents had 17 annoying children harassing the neighbors, either. Three is a pretty normal number, and we definitely were quite angelic. So, why we moved from house to house, I don’t really know unless my dad has gypsy roots. This hopping around like rabbits resulted in purging possessions frequently, although I prefer the term “simplify” much better since the former sounds too much like something we do in a toilet.

In any case, I’ve learned to simplify along the way since for many years, I too carried this gypsy gene in my veins. Until this last house in which I’ve resided for the last 11 years, I had relocated 15 times in 15 years, a measly year in each place. Goodness, a year is only enough time to move in, unpack and begin looking for a new dwelling! I felt like a squirrel scrambling up one tree, unloading a few acorns, only to set his sights on the next tree, looking for that place to call home. I didn’t have time to become a packrat or a collector of Precious Moments or Lladro. An itinerant lifestyle doesn’t lend itself to piling up possessions like Adele collecting awards at the Grammy’s.  

So, now that I’ve managed to settle down in one domicile for almost an eternity, I’ve stockpiled, stuffed and stored belongings that otherwise would have been eliminated in one of my 40,000 moves. Four overflowing bookshelves, an army of toys and ancient relics from the past threatened a coup. Thus, I embarked on a journey to eradicate unnecessary items seeking to bully us from our dwelling. My first stop, the basement storage, which hosted not only Christmas décor, but also those important artifacts from yesteryear that neither hubby nor I could bear to part with. It goes without saying that I keep a few sentimental items from the kids’ baby years, not to mention those valuable high school year books with such meaningful comments as “stay sweet” and “wish’d I could’ve spent more time with you” from friends that I haven’t talked to in 30 years.

I’m not quite sure why the man of the house complains about my growing mountain of books while he clings to Accounting and Calculus textbooks from ancient times. Surely, combs with teeth missing don’t pack sentimental value. And, why does he continue to save ski maps of Aspen and Vale from 1982? What causes us to cling to these articles that sit uselessly in the dark?  It’s like those clothes I simply can’t discard because I might wear them—someday.  Lest I place all the blame on my poor partner, why on earth do I keep research papers from college or high school unless I need to spark a bonfire? Do I really want to show my daughter my piano evaluation that displays my hapless grade on practicing and dynamics (the very things she struggles with)?  I might not be a packrat in the truest sense of the word, but what objects do I keep hidden away…just.in.case—like the two indoor water fountains that we might display someday, or the million tote bags tucked away, or the tent we’ve never used (nor will we, if I have any say). The list is endless…

And so, I simplified the storage. I emptied boxes like my 20-year-old son eats cereal. Forty-old-combs and thirty-year-old maps disappeared, and the “we might use them someday” fountains recycled. The tent was miraculously saved for “one of those years”. The storage closet, now condensed and compact like a smart car, whereas before, navigating that room was like a soldier tiptoeing across a mine field. Boxes precariously positioned and items haphazardly strewn about endangered anyone entering the room.

Cleaning out unnecessary items is cathartic. Especially for the soul. What menacing matters jeopardize my heart? What clutters my conscience? Am I hiding, harboring or hanging onto something like a child refusing to unclench her favorite blanket or stuffed animal to be washed? Do I really think I can keep anything secret from the One who sees all?

“You have set our iniquities before you, our secret sins in the light of your presence.” Psalm 90:8

So often I convince myself that if no one else knows about my anger simmering like soup, God is oblivious to it as well. Then, I read words about God creating me in the secret place, and I remember nothing is hidden from my Creator.

My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place.When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body.”  Psalm 139:15-16

He, who created me, is intimately familiar with everything that makes me tick. As I ponder this verse, I comprehend how strangely comforting this truth is. The God of the Universe knows me—the terrible thoughts, the shady secrets, the awful attitudes—and loves me in spite of what lurks in my heart. While others might recoil, Jesus embraces me. He exposes my sin in the light of His presence and invites me to experience His forgiveness, like the woman caught in the act of adultery. Her sin uncovered and accusers gone, Jesus forgives and summons her to live differently—to expunge damaging deeds done in the dark.

And so, He calls all of us to walk in the light, to eradicate concealed cargo that we grip tightly to. As we let go, our hearts can be filled with His goodness and grace. Just as our storage compartments are expunged of unnecessary clutter, so our hearts are freed from those secret sins which weigh us down.

“Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”           Psalm 139:23-24

Longing for Spring

“Spring has sprung, the grass has riz’; see where all the pretty flowers iz”

I’m not quite sure where this quote originates, but my husband claims his father spouted this catchy phrase each year. And, though we barely had a winter in this place where snow days usually stack up like bills in the mailbox, I still look longingly for spring. In early March signs began blaring its return, daffodils waving in the early morning sun, trees bursting with blossoms, and the bluebird whacking its beak against my window pane attempting to destroy the bird in his reflection. Poor guy! He pings and pounds because he’s protecting the birdhouse for the female to lay her eggs. He must have a massive migraine.

Spring emerges with new life and brings hope to the world. Nature announces its arrival. Birds sing, dead-like weeping willow sticks flesh green, and evergreens spray fresh scent. My senses, dulled by the brown and gray of winter, awaken to bright splashes of yellow, green, purple and pink.

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.” (Proverbs 13:12)

In a purely seasonal sense, I’ve been sick all winter, longing for the renewal of life that comes with spring. Each year, I watch what looks dead sprout green and bloom color. The tangible signs of spring spark a sensation in my soul that someday my eternal longings will be fulfilled. 

Though I enjoy the earthly blessings God has given me—marriage, children, friendships, ministry—desires deep down lay dormant, waiting for what only heaven can offer.

“If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men.”

(1 Corinthians 15:9)

In his book, Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis says, “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”  As a child, I remember anticipating exciting events—vacations, play dates, grandma’s visits—and then it was over all too soon. The buildup to the event was often times more thrilling than the actual occasion. When the trip concluded, my friend returned home and grandma travelled back to California, I felt letdown. For all these experiences promised to be, my expectations weren’t met—my longings for more unquenched.  

Because “God has set eternity in the hearts of men” (Eccl. 3:11), no earthly encounter will fulfill us. God designed it that way—that we long for Him, fill up with Him, hope in Him. Even chocolate, albeit extremely satisfying, is simply a substitute!  I love C.S. Lewis’ words regarding our longings realized.

“Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it {longings}, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. If that is so, I must take care, on the one hand, never to despise, or be unthankful for, these earthly blessings, and on the other, never to mistake them for the something else of which they are only a kind of copy, or echo, or mirage. I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country, which I shall not find till after death; I must never let it get snowed under or turned aside; I must make it the main object of life to press on to that other country and to help others to do the same.”

So, while I revel in earthly blessings, like the beauty of spring, lunch with precious friends, time with my family, I realize that God has created me for more. My mind can’t begin to grasp anything more beautiful than blooming tulips, cascading waterfalls and snow-capped mountains. What God has planned in the life beyond is just a shadow of all that I experience here. And frankly, some of these occurences, like sickness, pain and death, I can live without! Yet, even all the goodness here can’t trump what God has in store there.

Until that time when God meets all of our longings, we wait for spring. Life may look bleak, but as sure as the sun rises every day, just below the soil, new green is getting ready to push up out of the ground. It’s patiently waiting for the right time. We keep hoping as we scan for that first shoot of green forcing its way to the light. The flower gains strength under the sun’s warmth as do we. Let us bask in the light of the Son.

“But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)

Called to Bless

No action may be as difficult as forgiving someone for pain inflicted. Whether the hurt comes from my own bad decisions or is the result of another’s poor decisions, forgiveness is challenging. The concept of “granting pardon for” or “ceasing to feel resentment against” or “cancelling the indebtedness of” rubs against my human nature. I’d rather the dirty, rotten scoundrel who twist the knife in my heart receive his or her just desserts—like a one way ticket to Siberia. Yet, God calls me to live counter to the culture and instead, return blessing for cursing, good for evil. Easy to spout; impossible to practice.

About 14 years ago, a woman broke my trust and caused devastating destruction in my life. Her actions caused the first domino to collapse in the subsequent trail of many. Though not entirely her fault, she inflicted wounds that pierced my heart like shards of glass. One day she simply showed up at my office wanting to talk. Stomach churning, I followed her out the door. We sat in her car while she explained—as if her words could in any fathomable way put a balm on the betrayal. Not a chance. Still, I knew the words I needed to speak, the words Jesus used when he faced his betrayers.

“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34)

She didn’t ask for forgiveness that I recall, but I offered it. I gave it away because forgiveness is “for-giving.” The words ruminating in my head for weeks prior were, “But if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” (Matthew 6:14) The Greek root word of “forgive” is “charis,” meaning “grace.” Because God graced me, I am commanded to extend that same grace to those who wrong me—even if they don’t ask to be forgiven.

Kelly Minter, author of The Fitting Room states, “Forgiveness is looking in the face of what our offenders have done, recognizing their wound for all that it is, and then choosing to forgive. Still. It has nothing to do with denying the wrong of those who hurt us but has everything to do with changing our hearts toward them:  No more offering up every ounce of our unoccupied thinking space for dreaming about their demise.” Bummer. I guess that one way ticket to Siberia is out of the question.

Forgiveness is not a feeling; it’s a choice. If I waited for warm, fuzzy feelings to accompany forgiveness, I’d still have a pile of grudges as high as the stack of clothes on my daughter’s bedroom floor. The action precedes the feeling. In all actuality, the feeling to forgive may never appear.

Forgiveness is a process. Just when I think I have forgiveness licked, some new event re-opens old wounds forcing me to re-examine my heart. And just for the record, the old adage, “Time heals all wounds” is grossly untrue. I’ve encountered plenty of people who have allowed bitterness to fester and grow like poison ivy. As they rehearse and regurgitate all the wrongs committed against them, they spew their toxin, infecting those around them with their poisonous words. Rather than recognizing the gigantic log in their eyes, they’ve pinpointed the microscopic speck in their offender’s eyes. The reality is God heals us, not time, but in time, He will heal us if we allow Him access to our hearts. For, the more our hearts soak in His lavish grace, the more we realize how desperately lost we are without it. Being stingy with grace causes a ripple effect as we realize unforgiveness costs our peace. “For if we haven’t received God’s forgiveness, we are weighed down by guilt and fear, and if we haven’t extended it, we are assaulted with anger and the agonizing need to get even.” (Kelly Minter)   

Forgiveness is not forgetting, but it is letting the offender off of my hook and letting God take care of it. “Forgiveness is about placing the wrongs against us, not back in the hands of our enemies, but in the hands of God…Forgiveness means laying down our sword of vengeance. Even praying God’s blessing upon the person who hurt us can be one of the most powerful balms to our souls.” (Kelly Minter)

Jesus said, “Bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.” (Luke 6:28)

The word “bless” literally means “to speak well of.” So, let me get this straight. I am supposed to speak well of those who wish evil against me? But I don’t want God to bless them! Not today anyway. Occasionally, when I’m in a particularly magnanimous mood, I can pray this way. When I feel generous and a bit good-natured, I send blessings. However, as I read this passage, it hits me square between the eyes. Jesus doesn’t say, “When you feel charitable, bless those who mistreat you.”  Like the Nike slogan, He says, “Just Do It!”

If the first part of the verse isn’t challenging enough, I’m supposed to pray for those who insult me, treat me abusively, use me despitefully, revile me, accuse me falsely and threaten me. That’s a command way above my pay grade. In my human frailty, I can’t possibly achieve this. And honestly, I don’t even want to! Still, I know that as a follower of Jesus, I can’t pick and choose which of His words to obey. So, I pray for the want to—to want to. I realize my example is One who committed no sin, yet was betrayed, abused and broken. I offended Him and still He died for me. How can I opt out of blessing those who curse me, when I myself have cursed Him in my words and actions?

As I rely on His help to accomplish this great task, of returning blessing for cursing, praying for abusing, God promises that I will inherit a blessing.

“Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing.” (1 Peter 3:9)

The act of blessing yields blessing, and who doesn’t desire that? The act of blessing not only changes me but opens up my heart to desire good for my enemy. At least, that’s what I’m hoping for because frankly, I’m not quite there yet.

Care to step into that realm of blessing for cursing together? If so, do this exercise with me:

“Father, I forgive _________________ for ________________. I pray that you bless ____________’s life. Help me to genuinely desire good things for _____________ and to “do what is right in the eyes of everybody.” (Romans 12:13) May I choose to extend grace even when that is not what I receive in return. Change my heart, O God and help me to see _______________ through your lens.”