Friday, September 30, 2011

5-Minute Friday: Friends

5-Minute Friday time! ... where you just write for five minutes without worrying whether it's just right or not. I'm linking up with the Gypsy Mama for today's topic: Friends

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“I told her that she was so blessed to have friends like that,” she said to me speaking of her daughter…my sister…even though family is messy sometimes. Friends who visit…who cook, clean, comfort…friends to walk with her through the darkest hours of her life.

I reflect on my life…of my friends. They take on many shapes…many definitions…fill many roles. I’ve always thought myself one of few friends, and I kind’ve like it that way. Friendships take work. They take time and codling…things I really don’t have to give right now.

But then there are the friendships that don’t.

The friendships that span decades even when the meetings grow months and months apart. The friendships that only require a simple text: “Please pray…” The friendships—sisterhoods, really—that took years to discover yet mere moments…giggles…a few tears perhaps…to bind.

Most friendships come and go lasting only for awhile. But then there are the special ones…the ones that restore more than they require, refill more than they use, replenish more than they deplete. There are the special ones…and those are worth calling friend.

Stop.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Under the Circumstances

Tonight is the beginning of Rosh HaShanah…the first of the Jewish High Holydays. It’s a time when we’re commanded to hear the shofar blast—the trumpet of the Lord sound. It’s an awakening…a time when our spiritual ears are alert…a call to reflect on the previous year. Where did I go wrong? At what can I do better? It’s a time when God is very near to us…faithful to hear our hearts, hear our cries…to really see us where we are.

I just had a text conversation with a friend. It went something like this:

Me: “So shall My word be that goes forth from My mouth; It shall not return to Me void, But it shall accomplish what I please, And it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it.” Isaiah 55:11. God gave you a word! It will accomplish what He sent it to do.

Friend: I can’t believe you just sent me that scripture! Talk about confirmation! That was on my heart as I went to sleep last night.

Me: God sees you, Friend! He really sees you!

But even as I wrote the words, I couldn’t help but hear His voice. I see you, Jace. I really see you.

I haven’t posted in awhile. Truth is that I posted on Sunday, but after lying awake for hours Sunday night (and into Monday morning), I decided to take it down.

You see, I’ve been “under the circumstances” lately. And that post…while potentially encouraging to some…was written from my bleak position “under the circumstances.” It’s not a good place to be…under the circumstances. We’re called to a higher place…to a secret place. We’re called to cast our care, to take his yoke, to seek Him. We’re called to rejoice in all things, knowing that God is in control and that all things work together for good (Romans 8:28).

But sometimes…we need reminding.

Seek the Lord while He may be found. Call upon Him while He is near (Isaiah 55:6).

During the season of Rosh HaShanah, a time when God is readily found…when He’s so near at times I feel I can physically touch Him, may You seek Him. May you be reminded that He sees you…really sees you. And may you be comforted…over the circumstances.
Linking up with Internet Cafe for Word-filled Wednesdays.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Master of Emotions

I’ve been followed lately by this idea that feelings have no place in my life. Feelings. Such fickle little things. Happy. Sad. Bored. Excited. Discouraged. Depressed. Inspired. Rejected. How many days have I allowed to be determined by them?

“There is no word for feelings or mood in the Hebrew language.” I listen to Rabbi Daniel Lapin instruct me as I drive to work. I consider it, play it back, and listen again. “There is no word for feelings or mood in the Hebrew language.”

Hebrew. God’s language. That’s how much stock God put in human feelings. He didn’t even create a word for it. What does that mean exactly? God doesn’t even give lip service to my feelings…the very things I so often let dictate life around me. Hmmm…I grab my bag and run up the stairs, putting the thought on my mental shelf.

I run into Mardel’s…meeting a friend to shop for Bunko prizes…and I get no further than through the door. “Babies!” I exclaim. The display at the front of the store almost takes my breath away. Joyce Meyer’s new book: Living beyond Your Feelings. I’m a little weirded out. I walk by, hesitantly, twisting my head to read as I pass. I don’t pick it up. I don’t have to. “There is no word for feelings or mood in the Hebrew language.” I take the thought off my shelf. No word for feelings. Live beyond your feelings. Is it possible? I see my friend, and the thought goes back on the shelf for later consideration.

I can’t sleep. The minutes tick by: 3:33…3:56…4:18. I pick up my phone, check out Facebook. A poem on a friend’s wall:
 
If I feel depressed I will sing.
If I feel sad I will laugh.
If I feel ill I will double my labor
….
Today, I will be the master of my emotions.
 
I put my phone down. “There is no word for feelings or mood in the Hebrew language.” I think about it…consider it. Today, I will be the master of my emotions. God has no word for feelings. My feelings. I give so much energy to them. I devote so much time to them. And God considers them so insignificant, he didn’t even make a word to talk about the subject.
 
I think about books I’ve read, snippets seen. Love is a choice. It’s not a feeling. It’s a deliberate, everyday, giving of self…choosing to give of self. Joy is a choice. It’s a decision…to find God in everything…in the big, in the small, in the exciting, in the mundane. Thanksgiving is a choice. To be thankful. I have breath. I am alive to experience…whatever that experience may be.
 
And I begin to see…a faint hint of understanding. “There is no word for feelings or mood in the Hebrew language.” Our day is our choice. My day is my choice. And today, I will be the master of my emotions.


21. Revelation
22. BabyWise
23. Birthdays
24. Good friends on a warm summer’s night
25. Thanksgiving plans
26. Role models
27. Former students
28. Current students
29. Cake
30. Music
31. Oliver
32. Growing Kids God’s Way
33. Chance meetings
34. Fellow twin parents
35. Opportunities to encourage
36. Opportunities to be encouraged
37. 1000 Gifts
38. Good sleepers
39. Good eaters
40. A reliable baby sitter

Friday, September 16, 2011

True Joy

5-Minute Friday time! ... where you just write for five minutes without worrying whether it's just right or not. I'm linking up with the Gypsy Mama for today's topic: Joy

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...to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair... Isaiah 61:3

“Dinner’s at 6! Dinner’s at 6, not 7!” My husband frantically told me on the phone. It was 5:30, and I was across town picking up the boys. The boys…the boys who were outside when I pulled up…no shoes, leave-strewn clothing, stains of food down their fronts. My thought was to them. “Oh well…it’s living real, right?” I sighed. I shrugged. I hated that we would be meeting our potential new LifeGroup members from our church, and my boys looked less than stellar. They weren’t even wearing twin gear…my fault from the morning rush. Lack of planning.

I loaded the herd and took off. Halfway there… “what’s this? WHAT’S THIS?!?!” I pull the mirror down from behind the visor. “UGH!!! Why didn’t someone tell me I had a zit the size of Dallas emerging on my chin?! The least I could’ve done was borrowed some make-up.” Oh well…living real, right.

Skip to dinner. Chick-fil-a. Four families and all their beautiful, hair-out-of-place, snot-nosed kids. “You remind me of this beautiful girl I knew in high school. You could be twins.” She leaned across the table, her eyes a genuine smile.

Isn’t that just like God? To accept us just as we are. To make us feel a part even when we don’t. To take all our zit-faced, dirty messes and turn them into beautiful. And that, my friend, is true joy.

Stop.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Detective Work


7. At Oxford, Mary Russell concludes that theology and detective work are one and the same. In your opinion, how are the two subjects related?

My book club was dissecting The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, and we all sat there staring at each other as if the answer to this seemingly simple question could be found in the blank stares of our fellow readers. Obviously, this fictional protagonist knew something we did not. Perhaps that’s why she was chosen as Sherlock Holmes’ apprentice rather than any one of the thirteen of us who sat perplexed. The nature of the question alludes to the answer; the two are related, or it would have asked “if” not “how.” And as I made contact with the questioning eyes of *T* across from me, my spirit came alive.

“I totally get it!” I exclaimed with utter excitement.

Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you. James 4:8

We start with a request. God, help me….

That turns into a plea. God, please help me…

That transforms into a bargain. God, if you will only help me, I’ll…

And born from desperation is a need to see what He’ll do. What will God do? To what has He already agreed? My Bible flails open. Show me, God. Show me. Reveal yourself to me.

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

And there it is. Detective work.

Monday, September 12, 2011

My To-Do List


I sat reflecting on my day. My to-do list:

  1. Take the boys to Musik Garten. Check.
  2. Unload dishwasher. Check.
  3. Load it back. Check.
  4. Generally, clean kitchen. Check.
  5. Start and finish a load of laundry. Check.
  6. Fold all clothes piled on couch. Check.
  7. Sort boys’ closet, boxing up all 12-month clothes.  Check.
  8. Clean table in preparation for dinner. Check.
  9. Cook dinner (a new goal of mine.) Check. And it was good…check, check!
  10. Boys bathed. Devotions read. Both in bed fast asleep. Ahhhh…check.

Wow! For someone that meets the challenge of housework with the enthusiasm that one faces a colonoscopy, I was fairly impressed with the days’ accomplishments. So why couldn’t I shake the feeling that something was missing. “Lord, why do I feel like such a failure tonight?” I prayed, hoping He’d reveal the mystery.

I hear a soft whisper. Relationship. I didn’t get it. I’d started the day with Him. “God, did I not do enough? Did I not give enough time to you? Are you asking for more?” I went to bed frustrated and unsatisfied.

The next morning as I read through chapter four of Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World (this week’s Bible study from the Bible Café for Women), I found my answer.

But regardless of our temperament, regardless of our emotional preference, we are all called to intimacy with God….Just come as you are. As a child of God. Children, after all, love intimacy. (pp. 60-61)

Children. My children. Salem and Elijah.

Again, I looked at yesterday’s list, and my spirit is grieved. I started my day with them, and I ended my day with them, but where were they in between? They were around. I tended their needs. But I did little to build relationship with them. I did nothing to promote intimacy. I wonder as an adult how much they’ll care about my to-do list.

I take out today’s list and start over.

  1. Time with God. Check.
  2. Build intimacy with family….
I hear the sounds of Salem’s sweet morning babbles from down the hall, and I’m off to work on today’s list. 



  1. His renewed mercies.
  2. He did the grocery shopping.
  3. Napping babies
  4. A night cap
  5. Available friends
  6. Streaming church services
  7. Coffee
  8. He enjoys coffee, too.
  9. Fried chicken
  10. Good family
  11. Loose definitions
  12. Laughter
  13. Pack in plays
  14. Structure
  15. Flexibility
  16. My Mr. Fix It
  17. Hand-me-downs
  18. Watermelon & fruit dip
  19. That adorable smile
  20. That he tries to laugh even with tears streaming down his face.

Where Were You


Where were you when the world stopped turning on that September day?   --Alan Jackson
 

Watching the pre-game ceremonies of the inaugural Sunday night football game of the 2011 season, for a brief moment, I allow myself to remember…


I woke in time to make it to my 9 a.m. shift at the Texas Tech Library that Tuesday morning. A senior in college, I had nothing on my mind but the start of my final semester as an undergrad, my new boyfriend, and Joyce Meyer. Listening to her television broadcast, I tracked time by how much of her show had expired. Applying the last of my makeup, I stuffed books in my backpack, turned off the TV, and ran out the door with a last glance at the clock. Just enough time to make it. I hope there’s a parking spot…


I was annoyed. My favorite radio morning show had nothing but news. Try preset 2. News. Preset 3. More news. What is going on?!?! The Holy Spirit pricked my spirit. Jace, something big’s happening.


I stopped the car and drove back down the driveway. Slamming the car in park, I hurriedly unlocked the door to my garage efficiency apartment. I really don’t have time for this… By the time I engaged the television’s power button, I had two phone messages alerting me to the tragedy displayed before me.


All of a sudden, my library job wasn’t that important any longer. Stunned, I slowly moved to my car and gradually made my way to campus, listening intently to the radio broadcasts. The library that morning was fuller than I’d ever seen it. Students and faculty gathered around the big screens in the lobby. Classes were cancelled. People tried to process…to get through the day.


We moved in groups that day. We walked each other to class. We gathered together for lunch. We stood in clumps waiting for classes to start. At the day’s dawn, we were strangers. By day’s close, we were Americans…wounded, grieving, united.


Tonight on the screen in front of me, bagpipes sound out Amazing Grace and Old Glory herself covers the football field. My eyes water; my heart is burdened. For a brief moment, I allow myself to remember…


Friday, September 9, 2011

In Real Life






5-Minute Friday time! ... where you just write for five minutes without worrying whether it's just right or not. I'm linking up with the Gypsy Mama for today's topic: In Real Life

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Just yesterday I told a friend that I’ve really been concentrating on living my life on purpose. Choosing on purpose what I do with my time…what books I read, what television I watch, what friends I have. In July, after a year of watching nothing but 24 episodes on DVD and taking care of babies, I found myself discouraged and disgusted with what I was doing with my life. No wonder I was disgruntled. As thrilling as living through Jack Bauer’s life was, it was no living…not really. It wasn’t real.

So now, I’m living on purpose…really living…living real. I want my experiences to be with real people, with real feelings. I want real memories and to be able to tell real stories over the dinner table. I’m done with wasting breath in front of the television. I want to go to bed every night tired….tired from really living. From really laughing…from really crying…from really experiencing. I want to be tired from real life…from living real.

Stop.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Faith Like A Child


He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Matt. 18:2-4

I stood terrified in front of the scariest roller coaster I had ever seen. Had I known that my first trip to Six Flags would include facing one of my wildest fears, I wouldn’t have been so excited to go. I felt I had been duped by promises of big swings and merry-go-rounds. My parents knew of my fear of roller coasters, yet there I stood along with my mother wondering why she would knowingly torture me so.

The mile-long line wait was filled with desperate pleas that fell on deaf ears. I cried. I begged. I made promises that sentenced my five-year-old self to years of service. “Mom,” I pleaded. “If you won’t make me go on this, I’ll help you fold clothes EVERY TIME…EVERY TIME, Mom, and I won’t even fuss.” My bargaining attempts were met with chuckles and reassurance that a ride filled with death-defying drops and hills was going to be fun.

At that point, my faith that my mother had my best interests at heart waned. How could she do this to me? Why did I have to ride this stupid roller coaster? Didn’t she know? Couldn’t she see how petrified I was?

Finally, the dreaded time came; I was up next. As I watched the coaster holding loads of smiling faces draw to a stop in front of me, my heart thudded. There I stood, face to face with the thing I feared most.

“Folks,” the attendant’s voice boomed over the loud speaker. “We apologize for the inconvenience, but we’re closing the Judge Roy Scream down for some unforeseen technical issues.”

My mom looked at me in disbelief. “Jace, did you pray?” she asked, a slight smile in her voice. Giddy with the unexpected turn of events, I answered. “No, I didn’t have to. God saw my problem, and He just took care of it.”

Child-like faith. How many times in my life have I forgotten what God so concretely taught me as a five-year-old? That day at Six Flags, I wasn’t on my knees begging for intervention. I wasn’t in a church or in front of the altar. I hadn’t so much as whispered His name. But He saw me, and He took care of my problem. 

God desires desperately to meet our needs…every need…right where we are. He doesn’t need fancy prayers or spiritual formulas. All He requires is for us to cast our cares (1 Peter 5:7). To involve Him. To exercise a child-like faith. To say, “Here God. Here’s my problem. Please take care of it.” And then watch giddily as He does.

Monday, September 5, 2011

Too Great a Journey

 
“Arise and eat, because the journey is too great for you.” 1 Kings 19:7




In 1 Kings, we read the story of Elijah, a mighty prophet, who took a fierce stand for God and found his life on the line. Queen Jezebel had his number, and he was running in fear for his life. Feeling abandoned and alone, Elijah prayed for God to end his life, but He didn’t. Instead, He provided Elijah supernatural rest. The Bible doesn’t say it was supernatural, but I can only imagine that in his darkest hour with his life on the line, the last thing Elijah would have wanted to do was lie down and take a nap. So God provided him a peace that only He can—the “peace that surpasses all understanding”—and Elijah rested.

I love what follows. “And the angel of the Lord came back a second time, and touched him, and said, “Arise and eat, because the journey is too great for you.” The journey is too great for you. God knew. He understood. Even though Elijah was fleeing in fear…even though this great man of God, one who had just smote 450 prophets of Baal, had not the faith to withstand one woman…God was in his midst. Not only was God there, but He met Elijah’s needs…his basic, most physical needs…He met them.

*********************************************************

Standing in my principal’s office that February morning, my world shattered. “Your dad called, Jace. You need to call him back.” I looked desperately at my husband. My dad and I barely talked. Why was he calling me at work? Why was my husband, also a teacher, called to the office with me? I frantically went through scenarios in my head, and the only logical explanation I could come up with was that something had happened to my mom. “Please, God.” I silently begged. “Not my mom…anyone but mom.”

I was 26 years old, but I was still my momma’s baby. She was my rock, my best friend, my prayer warrior…largely my world. I talked to her every day…and most days multiple times. When we ended our conversation the night before, her last words were, “I’ll see you on email tomorrow. I love you.” That was an email that never came…that would never come. That was the last of my mom’s I-love-yous I would ever hear.

After a shaky phone call to my dad, one of my best friends and co-workers met me at my office. As I packed my schoolbag with essentials—a novel, my Bible, three boxes of Girl Scout cookies—she comforted me as only a true sister can. “Buckle your seatbelt,” she said, holding my shoulders and looking me square in the eye. “You’re in for a roller coaster ride.”

And she meant it. How many times throughout the following year did I hear those words echo in my ear? I didn’t feel the journey that awaited me was fair. I didn’t know how to grieve…I didn’t know how to live without my mother. I couldn’t do it. The journey ahead was just too much for me.

But like Elijah, my Father was there. He walked me every step of the way. When I needed comforted, I felt His loving arms wrap around me. When I needed joy, He opened my eyes to see little happinesses surrounding me. When I needed advice, He filled in the gaps with loving friends, who I’d not known.

Through that year, I experienced God in ways I’d never before imagined. Ann Voskamp, author of 1000 Gifts, states, “That which tears open our souls, those holes that splatter our sight, may actually become the thin, open places to see through the mess of this place to the heart-aching beauty beyond. To Him. To the God whom we endlessly crave” (p. 22).

On a cold February morning, my soul was ripped apart. But through the gaping, bleeding wound flowed the soothing healing balm of my Heavenly Father. The journey truly was too much for me, but as I rested in His arms…as I sank back and relaxed in Him…I found strength.



Saturday, September 3, 2011

Precious Gifts


As yet another toy went sailing through the air only to clang across the floor, I took in a deep breath and did my own version of “count to ten.” My 15-month-old twins were in the midst of pack-in-play time and finding it great joy to throw every one of their mind-stimulating toys across the floor to hear the noise they made as they rolled across the tile. Needless-to-say, after about the tenth little clangdy-clang-clang, my nerves were on edge.

“Fine!” I looked at them as if they were little adults. “When you finally have all your toys thrown out, you won’t have any more to play with.” When this didn’t have quite the behavior-changing effect I desired, I followed with “And when that timer goes off, you’re going to have to stay in there until Mommy picks up every one of those toys!” There, that’ll teach them!

But it didn’t. They continued until, sure enough, every one of those toys was scattered around the room, under the couch, in the kitchen, and through the office door. (It appears my little guys have quite an arm.) What’s more, they were ecstatic. They didn’t feel my frustration at all. They were never happier, and I was irritated at the pick-up job I had waiting for me when that timer finally rang.

And as I sat on the couch furiously folding a basket of baby laundry, I heard the most glorious sound. It was the giggles and at times all out laughter of my boys playing together. At times, the laughter would stop and be interspersed by the sheet rustling underneath them as they wrestled, but it wasn’t long before they were at it again, laughing in sheer delight. And my heart soared.

“Is this worth it?” I hear His soft voice whisper. “Is this worth the effort it takes to round up those little toys off the floor?” And immediately, I was humbled. To think, I almost missed it. Again, I was so consumed with me that I almost missed the gift He had waiting for me. The words I’d read earlier that morning came back to me. It’s easy to get discouraged by focusing on the negative.

I wonder how many of Adonai’s precious gifts I’ve missed by focusing on the negative. Each day, He gives us a gift of new life…a chance to start over…to wipe the slate clean and begin anew (Lamentations 3:22-23). Yet, how often do I miss it?

Father, please help me to open my eyes and my heart to see You…to see You in everything…even when it looks like you’re not there. Open my ears to hear Your tender voice as you gently correct me and get me back on track. Thank you for your love and grace…for your mercies that begin again each morning. Thank you for your precious gifts; open my eyes to see them.

Friday, September 2, 2011

Still


I was bored…bored with my life, bored with my friends (or lack thereof), bored with my job, bored with my hobbies. So I got busy…busy with new hobbies, busy with new friends, busy with a new job, and busy with new twin boys. I was so busy that I finally found my life merited one of those reference-sized Mom calendars…the kind that will organize everyone’s life around you, including your neighbor’s and the man’s in the convenient store down the street.

Leaving Barnes & Noble with that calendar, I couldn’t wait to get home to add all my so very important dates: book club, Mothers of Multiples meetings, lunch dates, birthdays and showers, and appointments of every kind—doctors, dentists, specialists. At the end of the hour, it was complete—my life neatly written in little boxes and lined rectangles. And I was so proud of it! I finally wasn’t bored anymore. A year prior, I would’ve had nothing to put in those lined little spaces, but now…? Now, I was important! I was busy! I was distracted!

In all my getting un-bored, I lost sight of the difference between the important and the urgent. Everyone around me was moved to my urgent list while my precious Heavenly Father was demoted to the important list…the “I’ll-get-to-it-when-I-have-a-minute” list. But my minutes never came. I was so busy giving my time to my new-found distractions, I didn’t even notice as my God-time slipped further and further down the list until He didn’t even make the list; all my lines were filled with other things.

In Luke 10:40, God says that Martha was “distracted with much serving” (NKJ). She was distracted by serving the Messiah! If God says that Martha’s choice to serve Jesus distracted her from “the good part” (v. 42), what was I? My distraction certainly didn’t involve Jesus (not blatantly, anyway). It centered around me! I was the center of my distraction; Jesus didn’t even make my Mom-sized calendar.

Not only did He not make my calendar, I was generally so tired during the week that by the time Sunday rolled around, all I wanted to do was have some rest time, some down time, some “me-time.” I couldn’t fathom the effort it would take to make it to church, so I happily excused it. “We’ll go next week…” And watched the babies play from my perch on the couch, coffee cup in hand.  

Week after week, month after month, I felt Him drift farther and farther away as I focused more and more on my distractions. Slowly, those distractions that I was so proud of became more and more of a chore. I found little time to read my monthly book club book, letting down my fellow members. I couldn’t find the time to accept an officer position in my Mother’s of Multiples group even though they really needed me, and I sort’ve wanted to do it. I found less and less joy in my family and shoved away the guilt as I gave a quick kiss and goodbye to the boys as I ran out to my next distraction…

“Still… Be still… Be still and know that I am God.” I hear His voice beckon me…His “still” small voice. “Dear daughter,” I hear. “I am here. I am here…still. Return to Me,” He says. “Schedule some time, and I will meet you there…still. Be still, my child. Be still and rest.”