for a season for a reason for a time

I watched the fog roll over the fields, its heavy wetness bending the stalks at their tip and wrapping itself around my car, drawing in a deep breath I could feel the warmth of summer  mixed with the cooler air of fall fill my lungs, it was typical weather for this time of year, as summer gives way to autumn, the warm summer air fighting to hang on just a bit longer as the cooler air rolls in, the seasons are changing, as they do four times a year in my part of the country.  Eventually,  autumn will give way to winter, and winter to spring and spring to summer and summer to fall. Seasons change, they always do.

“Why should I take one when I am just going to have to give it back?” That is just stupid I thought to myself about the declaration of the man sitting in the pew behind me, he was nonchalant and unapologetic in what seemed to be a reasonable statement in a narrow perspective kind of way, refusing the small token gift the church was offering, because each person who took one will have to give it back at the end of the month.  From a human perspective I can understand his reasoning behind not taking the gift, yet it seemed like such a worldly cynical point of view. His remark led me to a new level of something that even as I write this I am not sure what that is, but I felt a restless anxiety stir inside of me, I felt sadness.  Sadness for a man who turned down a gift because he knew he wasn’t going be able to keep it so why take it to begin with? 

A few weeks ago I celebrated my 41^st birthday, the tenth anniversary of my father’s death and the one year mark since I started writing this blog, it was bitter and sweet all rolled together, I looked back on the journey God has taken my feet not just since I accepted Him as my Lord and Savior but also my journey over the past 41 years, it has been ever changing, ever evolving, but with each new place my feet have tread  God had been writing my story, through the many bad choices and the few good ones I made, through the mending of more than can I remember broken hearts, the despair of depression and the many gifts He has given and then asked me to give back, that has led me here, to this place I stand now.  I have ignored this blog for a good two weeks now, and I have been plucking away at this post for just as long as the fog of this new season envelopes me, clouding my vision as I settle in and make myself at home in this new season, knowing there is a reason, a purpose as to why He me put here, I look for the meaning of it in every step I take, every path that crosses mine, and every face I look into, knowing that this season too will come to end, eventually it be time to move on,  to give the gifts of this season back,  just like all the other seasons I have been through, but a lesson will be learned, blessings will be found and perhaps the opportunity to be a blessings to someone else.

I felt bad for this man that He could not see the potential of how big this small gift could be even it is for only a season, even if he has to give it back.   I can only imagine what this world would look like if we all refused the gifts God wanted to give us because the time may come when we will have to give it back, so why accept it to begin with?  How many blessings and opportunities to be a blessing we would miss out on because we refuse to accept a gift that was only meant to be ours for a season anyway.

 I was given a Cross necklace as a gift when I was baptized in August and I wear it almost every day, that tiny silver cross started a conversation about Jesus in an elevator, that tiny sliver cross that someone tried to give to me more than a year ago but I refused it because I didn’t like it, that gift of a silver cross that I first refused started a conversation in an elevator about Jesus almost a year later.  The day may come when He asks for my Cross back, to give to someone else, perhaps there are plans to use it to start a conversation in another elevator somewhere else, but it never really belonged to me anyway, it was a gift from God given to me through someone else, to use for season, for a reason, for a time.

words of power, words of destruction

I was hurt by the comments that were made, comments that in and of themselves were to a point, true. Comments based on a limited perspective  and not having all the information, an assumption was made, about me, that wasn’t true, and I was hurt, and if that weren’t enough, the comment was made in an e-mail message that included about ten other people. I was embarrassed and humiliated my mind was reeling, why would someone I thought I had a good relationship with, someone I considered a friend say such hurtful things that weren’t entirely true.

Being the Jesus girl I am I was going to speak her about it, privately of course, the conversation would stay between her and I and no one needed to know, when someone else who had read the e-mail talked to me about it, I expressed my confusion and hurt over it, “let it go” she instructed, “don’t say anything to her about and don’t let it bother you”.

Don’t let it bother me?! I felt I needed to defend myself, yes I made a mistake but it is not what you think, there is more to the story, my side of the story, I needed to set the record straight, and of course I was going to do it all Jesus like and all…

But really I wasn’t going to, my feelings were hurt, and when hurt feelings are involved, when they are still raw and sit heavy on your heart words are spoken that were never intended to be spoken, and that is where I was, I was on the verge of speaking words I wouldn’t say otherwise, because I was hurt and I wanted vindication, I needed to defend the person I know I am against the words that were spoken that said otherwise, even though what I planned to say to this person was going to be spoken in private the words would be out there lingering in the air, words that had the potential to change a relationship that I valued.

Our words hold tremendous power, more power than I think we even realize, their effects lingering long after they have parted our lips, long after we have forgotten that we spoke them, they have a ripple effect  that we will probably never see.  As I found out later the person who said those things about me, was spoken harshly to just hours before, unfair assumptions were made, assumptions that were not entirely accurate by a person who had unkind word spoken to them and through their mounting frustration took it out on my friend who in turn took it out on me, it was a chain reaction that left many in a puddle of confusion licking their wounds wondering what the heck happened! And it all started with harsh words by a nameless faceless person who was probably unaware of the flood gate they had opened and the numerous waterlogged bodies that they would leave in their wake.  

As long as we walk this side of heaven we will deal with and be the imperfect human beings God created us to be, at times we will be frustrated and angry, the grace and mercy we know we are called to extend to each other will battle it out with the unkind words that are begging to pass through our lips, and when they do we will feel better for about a minute, but regret will inevitably follow, and that is where I was, I wanted to respond, I wanted my day in court, at that moment I didn’t care how harsh my words would be I wanted her to know that what she did was not ok.

So I sat in a quiet place, my emotions fighting to control me, asking God to heal my hurt heart, and to remove the black soot of hardness that had wrapped itself around me, and He did, and then He released me to speak to my friend,  “How are you doing today?” I asked her, “You seem upset, can I help?”  Not sure of the reaction I would get, but an apology came and I was happy to have my friend again.

Our words are a mirror that reflects the condition of our hearts, and I can’t claim victory while my initial response was to give my offender a piece of my mind and coming this close to doing it, but it was a lesson learned in the power of our words. They can either build someone up or tear them down, they can be used to curse or bless. 

Proverbs 16:23-24 tells us that a wise man’s heart guides his words, and his lips promote instruction.  Pleasant words are a honeycomb sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.

Matthew 15:11 tells us that what goes in a man’s a mouth does not make him unclean, but what comes out of his mouth, that is what makes him unclean.

Matthew 15:18 tells us that the things that come out of the mouth come from the heart.

a common thread

He knows every star by name, every grain of sand, every mountain, every tree and every blade of grass.

And He knows you too, everything about you.  

He knew you before you were even a thought in your parents head, He knew when He was going to create you, He knew every word you would speak, every thought you would have in your head, He knew what your hair color, eye color and skin color were going to be, He knew the life you were going lead, the choices you would make and the consequences you would bear because of them.

He knows every person who would hurt you and every person you would hurt.

He has protected you from much but has also has let your heart be broken.

He knows it all, He knows each of His billions of children intimately by name, the ones that are close to Him, and the one that are far, the ones who have never heard about Him and the ones who have chosen to turn their back on Him.

He knows them and loves them.

He doesn’t love me or you any more than He loves the man sitting in a jail cell for taking someone’s life, or the prostitute on the street or the woman who chose to have an abortion or the alcoholic or the drug addict.

So often this world attaches the sin to the sinner, it defines people by what they have done, but we are not the sum total of our sins, we are connected to each other by a common thread, we are children of God uniquely created in His image.

No two people are exactly alike, there is no else who has your eyes, your nose, your hands, your mouth.

He carefully crafted only one of each of us and He saw something in what He created that was worth sending Jesus to die on Cross for.  So if there nothing else you find about a person to love, love them simply because they are a child of God someone Jesus saw worth dying for.    

there's a butterfly on my sandwich

My hair circled around my face as the warm air blew through the open windows of my car, it was just another evening as I rocketed down I94 on my way home from work, I had plans for what I was going to do when I got home, take a walk, get some writing done, pack my lunch for the next day, what I wasn't planning on was my rearview mirror riding home with me in my lap and spending the rest of the night trying to figure out how reattach it,  and the thinning and frayed strings that were loosely holding me together snapped. I am so sick of things going wrong, I wailed as I sat on the cement floor of my driveway looking strange and a bit pitiful to the passerby’s, looking as if they were seconds away from calling the padded wagon to come pick me up.  I couldn’t get my mirror reattached and I had to go to work the next day, I didn’t know what I was going to do.  I couldn’t go driving down the interstate with no mirror on my car, when a roll of duct tape caught my eye, and the next morning I rolled out of my garage with almost an entire roll of bright green duct tape keeping my mirror strapped to my windshield.  

The following day was the start of the weekend, and I had two days to figure out how to fix my latest conundrum, and I discovered it was quite an easy fix once I calmed down.  If you ever need to know how to catch a bat or reattach a rearview mirror, come see me, I am your girl. I know these things may seem small but they are only a few in a series of irritants that keep plaguing me, they stop for a while and then pick up again, and I am getting a little tired of it all. Start rolling a bunch of small stuff together and the ball becomes bigger, that is what it felt like, a big ball of small things steam rolling over me before I had time to jump out of the way.  

I know God had been trying to send me little blessings of comfort, the song Strong Enough to Save by Tenth Avenue north seemed to stream from the airwaves every time I turned the radio on, He bathed me in little breaths of peace at unexpected times, but I wasn’t much interested in His comfort I was interested in things not going wrong anymore, or at least not so often, I crossed my arms and stomped my feet and refused to speak to God until all this nonsense stopped, in other words, until I got my way, cause I’m real stubborn like that, at 40 years old I haven’t quite mastered the art of acting my age, my behavior was more like that of a two year old not getting a second ice cream cone, I was mad.

The day was beautiful when I stepped outside the doors intending to eat my lunch on the Riverwalk, days like that are quickly coming to an end and I am trying to soak in as many of them as possible, the sunlight felt warm on my face as my eyes adjusted to the brightly lit rays that were shining down on me,  the park bench that was nestled on the river’s edge sat empty, my favorite park bench because it comes complete with a little tree that provides some shade from the afternoon sun, my steps growing more anxious trying to reach the bench before someone else could claim it.  Letting out a deep breath as I unload myself onto the bench, the weight of what the world was bearing down on me going down with me, I reached inside my bag and unwrapped my sandwich from the cellophane while my stomach churned against the food I was about force into it, I hadn’t been hungry much lately, so tiny nibbles were all I could manage to eat. 

Then it swooped down from its perch on the leaf that hung above my head, flying things are not on my list of likes these days and I swat at anything that comes within 10 feet of me.  Its wings were bright yellow, the brightest yellow I think I had ever seen and it was coming in for the landing, right on the corner of my sandwich, it stayed for just a second or two before it realized where it was and started pumping its wings ready to take off again, and I watched it for a few more seconds as it glided off into the afternoon sky.

As long as we walk this earth we will have problems, some will fall down around us in a light mist while the swelling tide of others will threaten to overtake and crumble our foundation, it is through the storms that I become more aware of the tiny speckles of God’s handiwork, perhaps it is because through the storms or even the tiniest spray of mist that my focus becomes more clearly fixed on God rather than myself, I notice more of those moments of beauty that can only come from Him, those mighty blessings that He wraps me in everyday but have developed a habit of overlooking when my circumstances seem to be in perfect alignment and I am double timing it to the tune of my own agenda. 

Problems serve a multitude of purposes, sometimes they are used as discipline or correction, sometimes they are used to get our attention, sometimes they are used to teach us to learn to trust Him or strengthen our faith and sometimes they are used to realign our perspective, to tune us into always keeping our eyes up not just when the clouds loom overhead but also when the sunshine is burning brightly, because that sunshine has a way of blinding our vision, to look for the beauty of those moments that can only come from Him, when He lets us know that He is near, the beauty of a butterfly landing on our sandwich.  

the weaver and the potter

My fingers longed to glide across the keyboard, my heart overflowing with words that were desperately begging to be put on paper, but the words seemed to have sufficiently oozed from my brain by the time I got home from work, my head an empty abyss, void of the words that were ripping through it just a few hours earlier.  I longed to write, I ached to write, my greatest fear when I started my new job had come to pass, I worried about when I would find the time to write and time is now in short supply, when was I going to have time to write?

I feel empty, like a piece of me is missing when I don’t write.

It felt as if the world had punctured a hole in the little bubble I had created for myself and started to fill the air space around me, suffocating me, leaving my head spinning like a snow globe that had been shaken a little too hard, what is the meaning of all this, what was the point of everything if this was how it was going to end? It felt as if the carpet had been picked up and all my dreams were swept underneath it, crushed under the weight of the woven threads that lay heavily on top, this is not just about not having the time to write, but also about giving up the dream of starting over, a career change, going to school and becoming a teacher, I have to quit school, for now at least, I can start again next semester… maybe.

I am grateful for the job and I desperately needed it and I like going to work, and I work with absolutely lovely people, and even though this not where I see myself in the long term I still go in to work every day and work as if Jesus is my boss, but this isn’t what I had in mind, and although we were not given a spirit of fear I am afraid…

I sat on the bench of the river that flows in front of the office building where I work, I had a few minutes before I had to go inside and I spent those few minutes talking to God. 

Heavenly Father, I am so afraid, and I am tired of being afraid, I don’t understand what this is all about, is this how it is going to end?  Is it over?

Afraid that if this job doesn’t work out, I don’t where I will go next

Afraid of not knowing what is up ahead or where I am going, and I am left wondering if I am even going anywhere. 

I must admit I had thoughts of taking this blog down, wondering if this was God telling me my season of writing was done, it was time to quit.

I am jumbled mess of confusion these days, the view before me is hazy and foggy I am not sure what direction I am going in, I am not even sure if I should be writing anymore, when I didn’t think it could get any harder, it has and I have no idea what God is up to.  My faith that I thought was rock solid and unshakable is being stretched to the point of barely being able to hold me.

I was putting my faith in the wrong things, I thought if I had a job I would feel more stable, but I don't, I thought if I had someone to share in this burden with me I would somehow feel more secure but I don't have that person, I thought I had surrendered and given up control, but I didn't not completely, I thought a lot of things that were wrong, because jobs end, people change their minds and leave, things happen in this lilfe that are beyond our control, there is only One that never changes, He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow, Jesus.

My hope has to be in Jesus,

My trust has to be in Jesus,

My faith has to be in Jesus,

I have to put my life in the hands of Jesus, let Him be the weaver and potter of my life, Jesus is the only way, because I don't want to be afraid anymore.

 

twas the night before my baptism

Twas the night before my baptism and all was calm in the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse

A change of clothes were folded neatly with care
Placed in my bag knowing the baptism would soon be there

What is it that I see from the corner of my eye?

Something with wings darting through the evening sky  

It burst on the scene with no noise and no clatter

And I rose from my seat to see what was the matter

Too big for a butterfly, too small for a bird

What was this thing flying through my home unheard?

Could it really be?
A bat that I see?

It rose from my belly, an earth shattering scream

As I fled from the scene no shoes on my feet

I drove down the street in search of new digs for the night

While I reflected on my evening’s plight

Eventually darkness giving way to the morning light
 

The noise clapped through the sky in the new morning’s dew

Is that a thunderstorm I hear?
While a basset hound snored in my ear

Removing a paw from my face

I watched from the window as the raindrops picked up their pace

I peered at the wet ground soaked from the mornings wake

Wondering if I was going be dunked in the lake

I unlocked the front door and tiptoed inside

When suddenly sunlight ripped through the clouds like a tide

Stillness awaited me while my winged intruder settled in for its daytime nap

And I managed to capture it in a butterfly net.

I got myself good and prayed up before I went home Sunday morning, and unfortunately I had to miss church because I was a little busy bat hunting, but it turned out to be a beautiful day and about 60 of us were baptized yesterday.

the screwtape letters

The Screwtape Letters are a collection of letters from Uncle Screwtape, a senior demon, to his nephew Wormwood who is a novice demon in training. Wormwood is assigned the task of keeping the patient, a recent convert to Christianity from making advancements for the Kingdom of God (in this particular case, the Enemy). As I read through the book this week, I started musing at what a letter from Uncle Screwtape would say to today’s woman.  

Disclaimer: I am not trying to be the next C.S. Lewis, so humor me, ok?

My Dear Wormwood,

I note with grave concern that your patient has recently begun attending Bible study; this is definitely not a victory for our camp. While all is not lost, winning her back to our side has now become more difficult and it is of the utmost importance that you not take my instructions so naively this time.

You write that her particular area of weakness is her feelings of inadequacy, so it is imperative that you immobilize any advancement in this area. You must continue to encourage her to compare herself to others as this will feed her insecurities about her own abilities, if she feels she is incompetent moving forward for the Kingdom of the Enemy will become almost impossible because of her fear of rejection and failure.

Since He actually loves the little vermin and wants to have a deep connected relationship with them keep her busy doing good works for the Enemy, this may sound counter-productive, however keeping her busy thinking she must earn His love and acceptance will limit her time spent with Him out of her desire to do good deeds to prove her worthiness.

She has arsenal of past mistakes that you can use as weapons of mass destruction against her. Continually remind her of these mistakes and inevitably her shame will become too much for her handle and will negatively impact her relationship with the Enemy out of fear of not being good enough because of these mistakes.

As she continually works to prove herself worthy, corrupt her thoughts with her failures and shortcomings and remind her that she is too far gone to be of use to Him. Continually work to make her believe that the Enemy finds her unimportant and that she is unworthy of His love, this will cause her work harder trying to prove herself but ultimately she will grow tired and give up. She may still attend Church and her Bible study group but she will become so paralyzed in her fear of failure and inadequacy that further advancements will be impossible.

Of course a full extraction from these activities is our ultimate goal and will have to be closely monitored but if you follow my instructions closely I anticipate she will become frustrated and give up and drop out on her own without any further work on our part. I trust your next letter will be a pleasing report on the progress you are making.

Your affectionate uncle,

Screwtape

If you think you can’t do something

If you think you are too far gone to be of any use to Him

If you think you have made one too many mistakes

Chances are you are the perfect person for the job

He came for people like you, He died for people like you, He loved people like you, He healed people like you, He used people like you.

He took the least likely and made them likely, He took the insignificant and made them significant

Chances are you are exactly what He is looking for.