Go The Distance

This week I’ve been in Indianapolis attending a convention for work. My family stayed behind at home. I was a little excited to have time to myself, for writing, thinking, spending time with the Lord and generally contemplating life; all the things that get interrupted at home.

Even without the interruptions I still haven’t been able to focus. Apparently I have inadvertently lugged along some superfluous habits that continue to vie for my attention; television, internet and chatting with friends. My pastor refers to these as contrived distractions. Like Martha, these distractions keep me from choosing what is better.

Luke 10:39-42(NIV)...She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.

I have been discouraged about my lack of progress this week. I can’t concentrate, my mind is lazy. I’m not even going to get into my physical laziness, we can discuss that at a later date.

Last night as I was praying about these shortcomings I heard God ask “Is your love lazy?” Since then I’ve been reflecting on this question. I believe it addresses the fulfillment of my calling. God has put a desire in my heart; a yearning to share His love with others through the telling of my own journey.

Pursuing this goal is tremendously difficult work for me. It involves uncovering memories that are so intense I wonder if it is worth the pain. Many times I want to give up trying. Oftentimes I willingly fall into the trap of contrived distractions.

Yet I know I can’t give up, I am called (or whispered) to “Go the distance.” I admit I am lazy in many areas of my life. All things being equal, I’ll take the easy route….most of the time. But I can’t be lazy in this task. I love Him too much to quit. And in order to bring good from my own agony I must persevere to tell of the light of God’s love even through the darkness.

Isaiah 38:17-19 (NIV) Surely it was for my benefit that I suffered such anguish. In your love you kept me from the pit of destruction; you have put all my sins behind your back. For the grave cannot praise you, death cannot sing your praise; those who go down to the pit cannot hope for your faithfulness. The living, the living—they praise you, as I am doing today; fathers tell their children about your faithfulness.

What The Heck...?

Tonight I am in Indianapolis to attend the National Government Services “Mission Possible” convention which begins tomorrow. – WOOT! as Alex would say signifying a sarcastic level of enthusiastic excitement.

I saw a peculiar thing this morning while I was driving here. I passed an older model van pulling a small camper. As I got along the side of the van I noticed that they had a window unit air conditioner installed in the back side window, and held in place with duct tape. It was the oddest thing and gave me a quick flash of the Beverly Hillbillies. I have been mulling over the reasoning of that van rolling down the highway with the a/c hanging out of the window.

This little conundrum has occupied a corner of my thoughts today. I don’t get why people do the things they do. If I let it, the uncertainty of not knowing will just eat at me like an itch I can’t reach. In the end, what difference does it make to me? But, I have an inquiring mind, as I told a friend of mine earlier tonight.

Right now I’m not watching the National Democratic Convention, (sorry Michele.) I am watching Intervention on A&E. Phil can’t understand why I watch a program about addicts. But this show allows me to move beyond seeing “addicts” to getting a glimpse of hurting people. It gives me answers and opens my heart in compassion for them.

It is so easy to judge others on the basis of our own lives. I also find it’s true that judgment can quickly turn to empathy once you know of their experiences. Unfortunately, we are not called to know each others’ stories in order to be kind and loving toward them. We are called feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty and invite in the lonely even when they don’t look like us.

And, maybe it’s a good thing that all people don’t look like me. Here’s what other drivers might have seen in my car during parts of my drive today; a woman, traveling alone but laughing hysterically, talking to herself or maybe even bopping in her seat. Because they weren’t in the car with me to hear the radio maybe they were also saying “What the heck…? It could certainly appear that I was wacked out – or “weird” to quote Alex.

Matthew 7:3-4 (NIV) “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?”

The Gift of Love

Bob was a man who has made a lasting impression on my life. I didn’t get to know him long enough; and I didn’t get to know him well enough. He passed away several years ago. I guess I’m thinking about Bob because last week would have been his birthday, and in honor of that each of our ushers at church wore a yellow rose in their lapel last Sunday.

When I started back to church after a long, self-imposed hiatus I came dragging a load of ugly baggage. Even though it was a heavy burden, I couldn’t relinquish the familiar weight. I was afraid of the “nakedness” I would feel if I didn’t have my insecurities to wrap around myself.

After I had been attending on Sunday mornings for a while I began to take Alex to the Wednesday night meal. Every week Bob was outside of the kitchen helping wipe down trays. I can just picture him, a tall and thin man, with a big grin on his face, a head of white hair, and wearing an apron with a dish towel in one hand and a tray in the other. I never saw him when he wasn’t smiling. He knew my name, and who I was right away, and acted as if we had been friends for years. Bob never let me get away with keeping my head down and trying not to be noticed. He always did notice. He never let a chance go by to compliment me, to let me know he was glad I was there; and he always made me feel special.

I truly thought Bob knew what the previous years of my life had been like and he was either trying making up for it, or trying to prove to me that I was a person worthy of kindness. Besides just being wonderful, I loved Bob for making me believe that I was special.

After Bob’s death as we recalled memories of him I was shocked to learn that Bob hadn’t see me as an outcast needing his confirmation. In those last years of his life as he was building up my self esteem I never even noticed he treated everyone the same way, making each person he came in contact with felt “special.” What a magnificent gift he had for loving each person he came in contact with without judgment and with his whole heart. I am honored to have known him and thank God for the privilege.

1 John 4:7 (NIV) Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.

Lessons from Cooper

Last summer we were at PetSmart, just looking, I promise, no plans whatsoever to adopt. (If it were up to Alex we would bring home a stray dog or cat every time we went.) But guess who fell in love-at-first-sight? I saw this little puppy with big ol’ ears and long legs, and he was just the cutest thing ever. We got him out and carried him around with us, we put him back in his crate….and we went back and got him out again. I really don’t know what it was about him that made me want to take him home with me, but I just couldn’t resist. Of course, Alex and Phil were all for it. So, we adopted Cooper.

Cooper is a handful. My explanation for this is because he is a boy. After all, our cats are girls and they aren’t any trouble, Sadie, our first dog, is a girl and she isn’t any trouble….but then there’s Cooper - thirty-two pounds of mischief wrapped up in fur. But he is, to me anyway, adorable.

Cooper chases our Sassy-cat, he eats cat food, he barks, a lot and ear-piercingly. He wants outside, he immediately barks to come back in, but when we open the door he runs off to the woods. He doesn’t know his place is on the floor and not the furniture. He chases our car. He eats box turtles out of their shells. (I’ve never seen that many turtles in the yard, but he sniffs them out somehow.)

Last fall every few days he proudly brought us different parts of a deer. On Thanksgiving morning he brought us a deer head; not just the skull, but the entire head. It made Phil almost sick to see it on our front porch. Maybe I have a sick sense of humor because it cracked me up. In the next few days he brought home an antler, the lower part of a leg and a big hunk of fur. A couple weeks later I saw him running into the yard and it looked like he had a broom in his mouth. When he got close enough for me to see I realized it was the spine and ribcage of a deer. If Phil hadn’t been putting all those “spare parts” in the trash, we could have almost made us a facimile of a deer to showcase in our living room.

This little, hyper bundle of bark with ears has taught me some things. Cooper is always so happy to see us he can hardly stand it. As soon as we come in the door after work or school he is jumping up to say hello. He wants us to know that we were missed and now he’s practically beside himself to see us again. He wants to be loved, he wants attention, and he wants to be in our laps, or snuggled up as close as he can.

Sometimes, Cooper leaves such a mess he just has to be punished. Like the time he chewed a half-full bottle of Pepto Bismol, which left a hot pink stain on the carpet, and on Sadie's rear - I guess she sat in it. Or when he found a roll of toilet tissue and completely unwound it; toilet papering our living room. But after he’s gotten a spank on the hind end he wants to know he’s forgiven.

Cooper is scared of thunder. If there is a storm he jumps onto the bed with us and shakes and whines. He tries to burrow himself underneath one of us for safety. And he cannot go to sleep until all is quiet again.

Yep, Cooper is a handful, but just so darn cute and affectionate we can’t help but to love him. Sometimes I think I should be more like Cooper towards God. I ought to bring Him gifts that are meaningful to me and lay them at His porch; ummm, I mean His feet.

Instead of taking God’s companionship for granted, I ought to be like Cooper, so happy to be with God that I can’t contain myself. I need to snuggle up with Him and give Him all my attention. I should desire to be in God’s presence at all times.

Like Cooper, I sometimes make a mess of things. And, sometimes it feels like God is giving me a little spank on my hind end. At these times I need to seek forgiveness and then be re-assured of His mercy.

When I face the storms of life I need to remind myself that God is my refuge. There is no need for me to shake and whine. God is there for me to find safety and comfort in time of trouble.

I picture God in His Heaven watching me saying “Yep, that Joan, she’s a handful, but look, isn’t she so darn cute when she runs to me? Isn’t she adorable when she spreads my love? Isn’t she precious because she’s my beloved daughter?”

Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

The Thrill of Victory!

This is day 6 of the 2008 Olympics. If you have been anywhere in sight, or sound of the TV you will have seen and/or heard of Michael Phelps. This young man is a swimming dynamo. He has earned the all-time Olympic record of 11 gold medals. So far this time around he is taking home five golds, and is working toward an historic 8 gold medals in the same Olympic games.

But even as amazing as Michael is, he is not the only outstanding competitor in Beijing. Spend any time viewing the coverage of the Olympics and you will see a great number of athletes who are incredibly talented. Besides being tremendously fit, there is another difference between them and us regular non-Olympic folk. It isn’t just the talent that got them to Beijing this summer. Oh they’re gifted of course, but they have also spent years working and training for this moment.

In order to enhance their God-given talents they practice other preparation methods in addition to training in their own sport. For example, swimmers also weight train. They can use cycling, running and resistance stretching to help strengthen their bodies. I read of a swimmer who works with a gymnast out of the pool, on his handstands and balancing to help with his strokes and turns in the pool.

Take Michael, he is an extraordinarily talented swimmer. The fact that he is a virtuoso in the pool though does not mean he can swing his lanky torso and long legs in a circle around the pommel horse. Being capable of an excellent flip turn at the end of a lap is not an indication of excellence in performing a back flip on the mat. By the same token World Champion gymnast Shawn Johnson most likely cannot power lift 260 lbs, or be an all-star on the basketball court. Clearly, Michael and Shawn are not gifted with the same talents. I am very grateful they, and all the other US Olympians have different skills so they can use their individual talents to represent us in all the different competitions.

Here are several lessons that can be learned from watching the Olympics

• We have a responsibility not to bury our talents, but to exercise them to increase. In being good stewards we will work and train our talent for the plans God has for us. Matthew 25:21 “His master replied, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!’
• In training our gift we must not neglect the benefits of cross training with other spiritual gift practices. We learn in 2 Peter chapter one, in order to participate in the divine nature of God we should make every effort to add to our faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge.
• Just like Michael and Shawn we each have different gifts to share, but each of us is gifted by God for the profit of all. As the Bible states in 1 Corinthians 12:4-7 There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of working, but the same God works all of them in all men. Now to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good.

Unfortunately, we can’t all be Olympic athletes bringing home the gold, or silver or even bronze medal. But we do have our own talents meticulously doled out by the Holy Spirit, in order for us to cultivate and to share, with our families, communities, and the world.

So don’t be discouraged if you can’t break a world swimming record like Michael Phelps, or twist and flip in the air a la Shawn Johnson. I promise you have other talents to perfect. In the meantime, get some popcorn, sit back, relax, and root your favorite team on to victory!

Rock Steady

Last summer my family drove to South Dakota. It was thrilling to experience a part of the United States that I had never seen before and there were many fascinating things to see on the journey. We stopped to see the Corn Palace in Mitchell, an Indian burial ground and dig, walked through a petrified forest and visited Wall Drug. We drove through the Badlands National Park which was amazing! You just don’t get landscapes like that here in Western Kentucky. We drove the flat land almost across the entire state on Highway 90. But then we turned to follow the signs to the Badlands National Park, drove a few more miles and suddenly the ground on either side of the road dropped into chasms of jagged rock, striped with the sediment of past eras. The shear precipices and spires that were formed from eons of erosion mesmerized me. (Click here for the official website of the Badlands National Park http://www.nps.gov/archive/badl/exp/home.htm)




We stayed outside of Keystone, South Dakota a short distance from Mount Rushmore in the middle of the black hills. One of my favorite parts of the trip was the day we went to Mount Rushmore. I know we’ve all seen pictures of this monument, but there is nothing like seeing it in person. A picture cannot capture the majesty of the carvings in the mountainside. From the first glimpse of it in the distance as we drove through the “hills” to walking the Avenue of Flags leading to the plaza and overlook, it was awe-inspiring. I am a bit of a nerd, but my heart was full of patriotism and love for my country when I saw that remarkable achievement. The sculptures were larger than I had anticipated, dwarfing even the tall trees down below.

When we left the park we drove Iron Mountain Road, a scenic byway through the mountains. The views were spectacular whether we were in the middle of a pine tree forest, or winding around hairpin curves with just a guardrail between our car and the side of the mountain. The road was planned around views of Mount Rushmore. Every so often we would round a curve, and there it would be, facing us in the bright sun. After leaving a particularly dark tunnel the road took a sharp turn to the left while the park service had cut a path through the trees straight ahead. The result was a scene of Mount Rushmore in the distance, perfectly framed by the mouth of the tunnel as we drove through.

The mountain was omnipresent that day, it seemed to be everywhere we turned. In our perception Mount Rushmore moved with us, however we know without a doubt that it remained firmly fixed and secured.

Isn’t that the same with God? The Bible refers to God as a Rock and it is easy to see why. God, like a mountain, is vast. He is a fortress, and a shelter against the storms of life. God is faithful and unchanging. He has been watching over us since the beginning of time. God is strong and will not shift when we lean on Him.

When I reflect on our day at Mount Rushmore I see similarities between the mountain and God. You can hear about God all your life, but until you experience Him personally you cannot capture His absolute majesty. From the first tentative steps as a believer, throughout your journey as you draw closer and learn more about God you see how awesome He is. He dwarfs even the most magnificent of earthly things.

Every where I turn God is there with me, through time spent in shadowy “forests” with tall trees of doubt looming over me. He is there when I feel I am on the very brink of the mountain’s edge and during the white knuckle hairpin turns of life. And, when I am in the blackest tunnel of despair I find His Light in the center dispelling the dark.

My heart swells with thanksgiving and praise when I realize how God loves me and how He saves me every day. I find mutual assurance with David as he sang:

Psalm 18:2 (NIV) The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.
Psalm 18:31 For who is God besides the Lord? And who is the Rock except our God?
Psalm 18:46 The Lord lives! Praise be to my Rock! Exalted be God my Savior!

It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Several years ago Staples aired a great commercial. It showed parents going down the aisles joyfully putting school supplies in the cart to the song “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.“ It was a clever use of music and had us all humming a Christmas carol in August, which was annoying, but it stuck in our heads. It amused me to see those parents who were so happy at the thought of getting their kids back in school, while the kids were sadly shuffling behind them.

It is that Wonderful Time of the Year again and my sweet little angel starts 8th grade tomorrow. The bus (hopefully) will come pick her up at 6:40 am, and bring her back home around 3:00 pm. After we registered yesterday Alex and her friends were in a texting frenzy about their schedules and their teachers; comparing notes about what they’ve heard about who’s nice, who’s strict, who’s easy and who gives lots of homework. It makes me glad that I’m not a teacher. I’m paranoid enough without a bunch of teenagers texting about me behind my back.

It also makes me happy that there are people who are led to teach our kids. I have friends who fall into that category; wonderful women (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!) who have been called to teach school. They take their calling very seriously and they care about their students. I know at least several, if not most, of these teachers know the name of every child in their school, and I have seen grown “kids” thrilled that these teachers still remember them long after they have graduated.

The definition of teach is: to impart knowledge or skill to somebody by instruction or example. Boy am I glad that there are those who can impart knowledge and skills to our children. I don’t have enough patience. When my daughter was young it was fun to teach her, she was anxious to learn, and she was compliant, plus she thought Mama knew everything - just the way I wanted. Unfortunately somewhere along the line things changed. Not only do I no longer know everything, I don’t know anything - afterall, she IS a teenager. Now the desire to learn has changed to the desire just to get by, and homework is done amidst great wailing and gnashing of teeth.

I don’t know how you teachers do it day after day. I know there are great rewards to reap from being a teacher, but I’m sure too that you are not thanked enough for all you do.

So, here’s to you teachers! I am indebted to you for having the patience that I lack. You inspire, love and influence our children and I’m grateful of the gifts you share. I pray that you each will have a blessed first day of school, and remember that you are appreciated.

I Got The Blues

I got the blues. Does that have a familiar ring to it? Picture little kids happily dancing and singing about the Kraft Macaroni and Cheese Blues. If only that were the type of blues that had hold of me I wouldn‘t be so miserable to live with. But I have what I like to call the Ecclesiastes Blues. What in the heck do I mean by that? Read on:

Ecclesiastes 1:2, 8-9 (NIV)“Meaningless! Meaningless!” says the Teacher. “Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.”

All streams flow into the sea, yet the sea is never full. To the place the streams come from, there they return again. All things are wearisome, more than one can say. The eye never has enough of seeing, nor the ear its fill of hearing. What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.

Not explanation enough? One of my Professors in college used to say “define that concept.” (Sidebar: Yes, this is the same one who taught me “lateral arabesque“ from an earlier blog.) I am burned out. Nothing is particularly wrong, but I’m physically and mentally tired. I want to lie down on my bed and sleep and veg out with the remote for about two weeks - or maybe longer. Unfortunately, that’s not realistic and it’s not going to happen. So what can I do? I can tell you what hasn’t helped. Having a short fuse, moping around and being cranky, and my favorite, slamming dirty dishes into the dishwasher. Hard to believe that none of these actions changes my attitude, although the last one at least helps to get the kitchen clean. This may come as a surprise, especially to my sisters, but I don’t enjoy living like a grump all the time. It’s pretty bad when even I get on my nerves.

On the other hand, I get the blues from time to time and they always pass. Like the verse above says “What has been will be again.”

But, Ecclesiastes 11:7-8 (NIV) also says:

Light is sweet, and it pleases the eyes to see the sun. However many years a man may live, let him enjoy them all. But let him remember the days of darkness, for they will be many.

What am I to take from this? I will have good days and bad days, and plenty of both. I need to remember my days of darkness because at the end of the dark there has always been light. It gives me hope. I may have the blues right now, but I’ve been here before, I know they will not last forever, after all, there is nothing new under the sun.