Just a Taste

Have you ever thought about some of the things we say?  We say an awful lot of silly things and some are just plain untrue.  Most often I believe we say them because it is what we have heard all our life and we repeat them without realizing what we are saying.  Let's look at just one of those things.  I can pick on this one because I used to believe this 100%. 

"My mistakes have made me who I am."

Oh, sweet friend, you are who you are because of the GRACE of the Most High God!  You are who you are because He has plans for you and He isn't finished with you!  You are who you are because He is GOOD!  You are who you are because He is in the business of redemption, taking a mistake, something totally out of His will and His plan and bringing good from it.  He is touching your life and that verse in Psalm that says, "O taste and see that the Lord is good..."  well, He is giving you a taste!!  Give Him the praise He deserves for that!

I can look back at my life choices and see where I am now and KNOW that I shouldn't be here.  I should be dead.  I should be in jail.  I should be an alcoholic.  I should be anywhere but here.  But He is GOOD!  And when I think of all this I fall in love with Jesus all over again.  My blessings, my "good luck", whatever you want to call it has never had a thing in the world to do with me.  It has all been the grace and mercy of my wonderful Heavenly Father.

Please don't buy the lie that your mistakes have made you who you are.  My mistakes have never done anything for me except bring me heartache.  But my GOD has chosen to bring me to a place of healing and hope.  He has loved me and pursued me even in my most unlovable state.  Even when I didn't want anything to do with Him.  For that, I stand in awe of Him.  He will always be worthy of my praise for what He has already done. 

The enemy would love for us to say that we are who we are because of the mistakes we have made.  After all, if we are "here" because of mistakes doesn't that mean we are doing just fine on our own?  Or does it mean God is choosing to gives us that taste of His goodness and beckoning us to come closer to Him because He has so much more to offer us?

God is beckoning.  God is wooing.  God is showing His love for you by giving you just a glimpse of the wonderful things He wants to give to you.  But first we have to draw near to Him.  He will give us a taste but He is calling us to the banquet!  Come sit at the table!

"O taste and see that the Lord is good;

How blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!"

Psalm 34:8

Keep Calm And . . .

"I am never, EVER letting you go again!"

I cannot tell you how many times I heard this come from the mouth of my nine year old son.

And the most amazing part of this?  He was talking to his seven year old brother!  YES!!  Hard to believe, right?

What could inspire such devotion from two brothers who sometimes act like they would love nothing more than be an only child?

Fear.

Last weekend my boys decided they wanted to run the bases after a minor league baseball game.  So, after the game and the awesome post game fireworks, we made our way down to field level where no less than half the kids in the stadium crammed together for their chance to emulate their favorite player.

As the line moves forward and the kids all clamor to be first, the line becomes a wad.  They are bunched up around the girl trying to explain what they are getting ready to do.  Then she tells this mob to form ONE line; that no one will go until they are in a single line.

My oldest crams his body in with everyone else and manages to get in the first to middle part of the line.  My youngest, however, doesn't want to "skip" anyone so he heads to the back of the line.

Immediately, J.D. is in panic mode.  He cranes his neck, stands on his toes and waves his arms while trying to make eye contact with Jon.  When Jon finally spots his older brother a silent argument begins.  J.D. apparently wants Jon to come join him in the front of the line and Jon is adamant about staying where he is.  The fight continues until it is J.D.'s turn to run the bases.

When he gets done running the bases, J.D. finds us and only says, "Where's Jon?"  I point Jon out to him and J.D. is gone again to wait for his brother.

The reunion was heartwarming.  You would have thought they had been separated for a year.  They hugged each other so hard they almost fell over!  That is when I heard, "I am never, EVER letting you go again!"

And I probably heard it a hundred times after that!  J.D. and Jon talked of nothing else.  All. The. Way. Home.  They talked about how scared they were.  They tearfully exclaimed how much they loved each other and how they wouldn't know what to do without the other one.  They even made a plan for the next time they get separated.  Again - All. The. Way. Home. 

"Home" is 35 minutes away from the ball park.  It seemed like an eternity.

Now, don't think I'm terrible.  It was very sweet and I now know that no matter what my kids do to each other on a daily basis, that they really and truly love each other. (Yes, some days I have wondered!)  It does my heart good to know this.

But my boys were really in a panic over a situation that was already under control.  It wasn't a huge deal because my husband and I were watching them.  There is no possible way those two would not have been reunited.  We would not have left one at the ball park.  We had our eyes on both of them the WHOLE time.  But, somehow, the fear of the moment made them forget we were even there.

Isn't that the way we go through life with God?

Everything is gong fine until, well, it's just not.  As soon as that happens we let the fear and the panic take over.  We frantically try to control everything about the situation so the world doesn't end.  And then, when the dust settles and we realize we are still intact, we finally look up.

We look up and see Him.  In that moment, I know that I am not alone.  I know that I was never alone.  I also know that He had everything under control the entire time I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off.

What a relief!

You know what's an even bigger relief?  To be able to realize this BEFORE I let fear rule in my life.  I need this on one of those "Keep Calm and..." shirts.

But wait, God has already given me one of those:

"[Keep Calm] and Know That I Am God..."  Psalm 46:10

Maybe I will put this on a t-shirt after all!  :)


 

My Two Cents...

It seems everywhere I turn there is controversy.  Arguments over issues that, growing up as a child, used to be "no-brainers."  I see friends turn on friends, ugly words spoken and typed that cannot be taken back.  I have watched and listened in awestruck horror as we make our voices heard simply because it is our right to do so.  And, through it all, I have begun to ask myself how Jesus would respond to this if He still walked this earth. 
 Honestly, I don't know what He would do or what He would say.  I know it would be full of love but also full of Truth.  I know that I am tired of being silent but I want my response to honor Him and not simply gratify my desire to be right.  Hopefully this will do just that.

I believe in God.  The one true God, Jehovah-Jireh, God Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, the God-who-sees-me-right-where-I-am-but-loves-me-anyway.  That God.  I believe He created man and woman to be able to make new life through physical union.  I believe sex is a beautiful, remarkable gift from God that should be treasured and kept within the sanctity of marriage.  I believe that any life the Lord gives is holy and precious and should be protected.  I believe that any instruction that God has given has been given for my benefit and protection. 

I believe these things because I am a God-follower.  If you do not follow the same God I follow, I do not expect you to feel the same way.  I do not love you less because you disagree with me, however, I do disagree.  My heart is heavy for you and the pain and heartache I know living apart from God causes.  I know this pain because I have experienced it myself. 

I believe in Jesus Christ.  I believe that because He died for my choice to live "my way" and to "be my own person" that I have been made "right" in the sight of God.  I love Jesus for that sacrifice.  He has shown me grace and mercy that I will never be able to fully understand.  He extends that same grace and mercy to all who trust in Him.  It is because of this belief and trust that I love you. 

So, no matter our differences, no matter what you support that I cannot:  I love you.  It is that simple.  No harsh words.  No jostling to be right or politically correct.  God loves you.  He has provided a way for anybody to experience that insane, crazy love He has for them through Jesus.  He has given freedom.  He has given hope.  I believe this because I am a Christ- lover.

In this crazy, mixed up world I believe in the Sovereign God.  I do not fear the changes but that doesn't mean I have to like them, support them or believe in them.  Likewise, you do not have to like, support or believe mine either.  What does matter is this: You are precious in His sight, therefore, you are precious in mine.

"But God demonstrates His own love for us in this:  While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."  Romans 5:8

Summer in the South

Summer in the South
 
It's wet grass that glistens like promises
And drinking coffee while the birds clamor their morning to do lists.
It's steam coming off the asphalt as the humidity rises
And air that gets thicker as the days grow longer.
It's porch swings and sprinklers, Kool Aid mustaches and ice cold watermelon with friends.

It's - too - hot - to - do - anything naps in swaying hammocks
And lazy dogs lying in doorways.
It's kids' laughter pouring in from the back yard
And drinking sweet tea on a golden afternoon.
It's creeks, shirtless boys, baseball and sweat.

It's rolling thunder that brings fat, plopping rain drops
And wondering if the storm will last an hour or a minute.
It's the sound of distant lawn mowers
And the smell of fresh cut grass.
It's sizzling, sticky, sweet and time slows to a crawl.

It's sitting on back steps sipping muscadine wine with my honey
And watching the fireflies wink in the twilight.
It's time for family movie nights on couch cushions with popcorn
And thirty minute long "tucking-in" talks.
It's starry skies, crickets chirping and rings around the moon.

It is my treasure
And I cherish it all.

When His Deep Calls to Mine

It should be the most wonderful time of the year.  But for many people, including myself, the holiday season brings an unwelcome visitor.  Depression creeps in steals our joy and, try as we might, we can't seem to get it back.  The grayness is oppressive and heavy.  It feels as if we carry the weight of life on our shoulders.  It tugs us deeper and deeper into a storm of sadness and frustration.  But it didn't used to be this way.  I once reveled in this time of year with the gathering of friends and family, warmth and good wishes abounding and the contagious joy.  Then life happened.

 

I lost my Dad unexpectedly in December 2009.  The pain of his loss left me reeling that Christmas.  The following year in September my dad's dad lost his battle with leukemia and the year after that we lost my grandmother.  Memories of Christmases past haunted me.  Christmases would never be the same without these people.  And depression found a cozy place to stay.  Some days it was so intense that not even the excitement of my children lessened the ache inside.

 

But this year my holiday squatter never showed.  The boys were bouncing off the walls, we visited family, there was a new baby to play with, we sat with our church family and received the Lord's supper together and it was reverently beautiful.  The season was a wonderful mix of rowdy joy and blessed quietness. 

 

And then I get the call.

 

My other grandmother has had another mini stroke and is not recovering well.  Here comes the dread, here comes that sinking feeling and, in an instant, I am drowning in helplessness and fear.  Not again.

 

I feel like the psalmist in verse 3 of chapter 42 where he writes,

"My tears have been my food day and night, while they say to me all day long, 'Where is your God?'"

 

Exactly.  Where are You, God?  Why is this happening AGAIN?  Haven't I had enough?  I was just getting past the depression, my heart was healing and now THIS??  Where. Are. You?

 

It is then, in that honest wailing, that He calls to me.

 

Psalm 42:7, "Deep calls to deep at the sound of Your waterfalls; All Your breakers and Your waves have rolled over me."

 

With this verse, God reminds me that I am made in His image.  I am cut from he same cloth as the Almighty; I am a tiny, miniscule piece of His majesty.  And because of that link, when He calls my soul responds to Him.  Because He created me from Himself and not just dust, He is the only One that can soothe and satisfy the chaos and self pity that threatens to consume me.  He says that when the world threatens to sweep me away, it is His waterfall that washes over me instead.

 

The waterfall also reminds me of His infinite greatness.  A single drop of water can't do much but a waterfall can cut mighty canyons from the hardest rock.  A waterfall can move mountains.  That is the power of my God compared to what I can do on my own.  This is God asking me to let Him carry me.  This is God telling me I cannot and do not need to even attempt to walk this road alone.  It is Him reassuring me that He can shoulder what I cannot.

 

I don't know what the next few weeks and months will hold for me and my family.  I don't know what this development means for my grandmother.  But I know that His "deep" will continue to call to my "deep" and if I rest in His power and trust where His current takes me then I have the promise of the next verse as well. 

 

Psalm 42:8, "The Lord will command His lovingkindness in the daytime;

And His song will be with me in the night,

A prayer to the God of my life."

 

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, my friends!

Confessions of a Worship Seeker

I always thought I knew what worship was.  But this past year has changed everything I thought I knew.

For me, worship has always meant singing.  Music touches a place in my soul and brings with it an emotional response.  Singing is how I express my praise.

Or, rather, it was.  Almost a year ago I lost my voice.  I lost my ability to worship as well.  I was angry and seething with bitterness. I would stand in the service while the congregation sang around me and sob.

I lashed out at God, How am I supposed to praise you when it sounds so terrible?! 

God asked me, Do you sing because you love Me or because it sounds pretty?

I was struck.  I had never realized how much my worship depended on the quality of my voice, how much pride was hidden in the talent God had gifted to me.  I never realized how deep the rut ran that I had become stuck in.  Because I focused so much on music and that particular outlet of worship, I didn't know how to worship any other way.

 

That one incident has sparked a journey for me.  A journey to discover what true worship is and what it is not.

My husband and I are members of a Baptist church that we love.  He teases me and calls me a closet Pentecostal because sometimes I long for loud rejoicing.  I long for uplifted hands and the sounds of people praising the Lord in their prayer language.  My other half finds those styles of worship strange to say the least.  He doesn't doubt their validity or honesty, he just doesn't praise that way.

 

On the other end of the spectrum I have also been learning about more reverent rituals and services like Ash Wednesday, Lent and the life of Benedictine monks.  I am fascinated by the focus and worship found in quietness.

 

I have begun to realize just how multi-faceted worship is. It isn't confined to music and it isn't something that can be stuffed into a neat little package.  No single denomination has cornered the market on "proper worship."  God is not more pleased or less pleased with our adoration of Him in its different forms.

 

True worship is a kaleidoscope of every color in the spectrum that combine to make one shining, brilliant white!  Each form of worship, whether it be exuberant or reverent, is a part of that whole.  And just as we are dazzled to watch the colors in a kaleidoscope roll and change to make new designs, we could (if we let ourselves) be just as awe inspired when it comes to different kinds of worship.

 

I can crank up Skillet and praise the Lord with a "joyful noise" or I can weep at the beauty and depth of an old Baptist hymn.  Both are true.  Both are correct.  And maybe Skillet isn't your cup of tea.  That's okay!  It's still a part of the same whole.  

The same God that paints a different masterpiece in the sky every morning and evening has imparted to us the same creative spirit.  That creativity craves different outlets and has a need to be expressed as well as a need to be experienced.  When it comes to worship, while here on earth, it will look different because we are all different.  It will be diverse because we interpret God differently.

 

When we get to heaven, I don't believe we will be divided by worship preference.  We will not find a single Baptist hymnal or Christ Tomlin song (gasp!).  We will be singing, shouting, chanting, repeating the same song...a NEW song!  A song shaped by the innermost part of our being and formed in complete understanding of the Almighty God as we stand in His presence and praise Him!

And it will be reverent and holy.  It will be joyous and jubilant.  It will be complete and perfect.  It will be all the parts finally coming together and making the perfect whole!

 

   "Then I heard the sound of massed choirs, the sound of a mighty cataract, the sound of strong thunder: 'Hallelujah! The Master reigns, our God, the Sovereign-Strong!  

   Let us celebrate, let us rejoice, let us give him the glory! The Marriage of the Lamb has come; his Wife has made herself ready'" 

Revelation 19:6-7

 

He MUST Have Me Around for Entertainment...

If my husband were to walk in the door right now, I would have a lot of (insert voice of Ricky Ricardo here) 'splainin' to do.

Today, I ventured into the realm of domestic diva and attempted to make my own laundry soap.  I had attempted this on an earlier occasion trying the pioneer method of stirring until my arms felt like limp noodles to get all the lumps out.  Eventually I deemed it "good enough" and went on with the process.  Suffice it to say...it wasn't.

So today I decided to try a "no cook" method for the "domestically challenged."  I must say, I took a bit of offense to that title and decided I don't receive that.     

Anyway, off I go to prove that I am NOT domestically challenged with a proud tilt of my chin and a determined glint in my eye.  It didn't last long.

It began with trying to clean the flopped detergent out of the containers they were in.  What I got for my effort was a gloppy, clumpy mess in my sink that bubbles.  Nice.  On the other hand, it did make an alright sink cleaner.

Then I figured out that when I began the process, 48 hours ago, I had separated my bar of soap into two bags instead of putting the whole thing in one bag and inadvertently soaked the soap in 4 cups of water instead of 2.  Oops.  Now what?

I quickly think, Double batch!  I run to my closet and begin to dig out canning jars and THAT requires pulling everything out of my side of the closet to get to said jars.  As I am furiously unwrapping jars and throwing newspaper, I realize it won't work.  I do not have another bar of soap or another 48 hours handy in which to dissolve the soap.

Sigh.

Leaving jars strewn all over and my closet upended, I return to the kitchen.  Finally I decide to dissolve my other ingredients in half the amount of boiling water called for, add my watered down soap and hope for the best.  All went fairly well after that until I managed to get a jar not quite the right size for the blender and narrowly avoided a shower of detergent and glass!  Changed to another jar and blended.  Crisis over.  Whew...time for a rest.

Or so I think.

The phone rings.  It's the school nurse telling me my oldest son is sick and needs to be picked up.  Okay.  I am still in my Tweety Bird PJ's so this is not a welcomed development.  AND I still have to go to Walmart.  (No, it couldn't wait)

Now I'm home with a boy in the bed, jars everywhere, bedroom looking like the closet vomited its contents all over and I sit here blogging in the midst of my mess.  

When my honey gets home he'll get to hear this whole story and we will share a good laugh together.  It's part of what makes being married worth while.  To have someone who will laugh with you and even help clean up a mess or two.

You know, God loves us like that.

We can make some of the biggest messes but He's always there to pick up the pieces.  Even when we can't laugh about it, He's there with strong arms to hold us while we cry.  

Yesterday I ran across these verses and they touched my heart.  Today, shaking my head at myself, I am hearing them again in my mind and it is making me smile.

 "...I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have drawn you with lovingkindness. Again I will build you and you will be rebuilt, O virgin of Israel! Again you will take up your tambourines, and go forth to the dancers of the merrymakers."
~Jeremiah 31:3-4

God loves us with an everlasting and unfathomable love.  You may get irritated, frustrated, aggravated or just plain ugly during the course of a hectic and hair-raising day but remember that the Lover of your soul is always there waiting to embrace you and rebuild you.