Memories

It is deliciously cool outside today; a coffee-on-the-porch kind of day.  Man of the House and I have  lived in so many different climates in our years together, and each place, each home, has had those days when I just want to curl up with a hot drink, a blanket and a really good book. 

It had been twenty years between the time we had left the Desert Southwest and our return.  It surprised me how much I had forgotten about the desert.  The sights, the people, the different cacti, and the smell.  We were blessed to have a deep back porch on our condo where my sweet poodle and I could sit and enjoy the outdoors together, even on a rainy day.  In the South and Midwest (think Kansas), It can rain sideways, in circles, in sheets, and if you are on the porch or deck, you are definitely going to get wet.  However, in the desert, when it rains, it rains straight down. 

I remember that first good rain after our return.  I saw it moving across the desert from the south toward our neighborhood.  I could smell the dust that precedes the storm.  It brought back memories of monsoon season as a child, when we would have to go in the house from playing. Mom might have popped some popcorn and we would play board games or watch TV.  (Remember After School Specials?)  The rain never lasted very long, and with the windows open, we could feel the air cool off almost instantly. But it was the smell AFTER the rain that stayed strongest in my memories. The smell of greasewood and wet earth.  Memories of breathing deeply and smelling that fresh air all the way to my lungs and back.    You can’t bottle that smell. 

As my faithful companion and I sat on our porch the afternoon of that first rain, my mind rushed with memories.  My lungs were so happy to breath the fresh air.  I already had my coffee and a good book, so while the rain lasted, we just enjoyed every second of it.  I didn’t get up to get a sweater; the rain wouldn’t last that long.  I didn’t even warm up my coffee.  I just sat in that deliciously cool moment and thanked God for being so creative as to make even the rain in myriad ways.

And I also gave thanks for the memories. 

Actually written on January 1, 2010

Proverbs 4:20-27

I have thought many times about what legacy I would like to leave for my children. I know that a legacy is so much more than the material things we leave behind. I am blessed to have been given a legacy of loving and knowing God and His Son Jesus Christ. My parents were determined to raise us in a Christian home and I, too, have been given that legacy of determination.

There are so many scriptures that give us encouragement in our spiritual growth--our sanctification. I have considered many for this legacy that I wish to leave. My children are just now in their young adult years, making those life-decisions of career, marriage partner, spiritual depth, etc. Today being January 1st also causes me to reflect on what is "most important" for me to say or leave for these awesome young adults God has placed in my life.

I could tell them about being careful in decisions because each one can take you to a whole different outcome! I could make lists and give them something to check off and measure their growth. I could remind them of their spiritual heritage and exhort them to good deeds. However, as I look through scriptures today, I see one theme standing out: Love the Lord your God. Love for God inspires us to all the other things we "should" do. Love for God focuses on HIM, not me. Love for God makes decisions based on HIS pleasure, not mine. Love for God brings repentance for relationship's sake, not to ease MY guilt.

And so. my dear children, I leave the words of this scripture for you as 2010 begins. Enough said.

Making Lists

I feel like I am sitting on the edge of something. I feel the restlessness that springtime brings; trees are greening, flowers are blossoming, rains come softly on some days and angrily on others. We’re waiting, mostly impatiently, for the days to stay warm and get longer. I feel the need to make a list; is that funny? I’m making a list of all the things that are swimming around in my head, things I want to do before the sun goes down and the leaves fall once more.

• Take a family vaca to Washington DC and the beach
• Take a trip to Savannah
• Spend time with my Mom
• Spend time with my adult children
• Go through the junk in the basement
• Get the basement finished
• Fence the backyard and get Man of the House’s shop building up.
• Spend more time outside than in
• Lose some measurable weight
• Take the kids to the Grand Canyon
• Make all the recipes in one Pioneer Woman Cookbook

Realistically, all of these cannot be done in one season. I have already planned some of these and others are in the works, like the yard changes that Man of the House has been working on. However, as we are planning, dreaming, implementing our ideas, I can’t help but feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. We’ve been dreaming of having our own home for over 30 years. We’ve dreamed it so much that it seems almost surreal for us to actually be able to do it!

I believe that, at times, we all have dreams and ambitions that we are afraid will stay right there, in the dream box. Like my Pinterest boards, where I have three separate categories for different levels of home pins, we have the things we wish we could do, the things we can do “someday,” and the things we know we can and probably should be doing right now. I also think that procrastination is a response to fear: fear that I can’t really do these things well, or perfectly, or for others to see and criticize, so I procrastinate until it’s too late. Sound familiar?

It has taken me many years of fighting perfectionism that leads to procrastination to realize that it is okay to have list left over at the end of the day. You may have noticed quite a bit of time between today and the date of my last blog post. I took a few years hiatus due to a traumatic brain injury that I suffered. You want to talk about circumstances and experiences that will choke a perfectionist, this would be one. It is quite humbling to be in a situation where you cannot take care of your own personal needs, then to realize there are things you have enjoyed that you may never be able to do again. I know that others have it worse, don’t get me wrong. Change, no matter how life-altering, is difficult for most.

So, back to my list: Spring is coming on, and with it comes the hope of a new view, maybe even a new reality. Hang on, My Friends! By God’s grace, a new future is opening up for me, and I plan to share as much of it with you as is possible. Because, under all of the excuses, the procrastination, and the fear, is just imperfect Me splitting infinitives for posterity, if nothing else.

Letting God Really Lead

Psalm 119:105 keeps coming back to me again and again throughout my life. No kidding! In my five-year-old Sunday School class, we were given 5 verses to memorize in a month and if we did so, we would be given a full-size Bible. I took that challenge, memorized those verses, and still remember them today. One of them was Psalm 119:105: Thy Word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. Over the years, I have contemplated that verse many times. What strikes me most is that the lamp and the light are neither one spot lights. A lamp, especially in Biblical times, was an oil lamp, small and carried by hand from room to room. It could only light the small area where it was being held. Even now, to have a lamp in the room serves to light up the corner where it sits. We put a lamp by our bedside so we can read at night, but we do not intend to see clearly what is across the room.

“A light to my path” gives me the idea of a flashlight. The first overnight camp I went to as a youth was in the pines of southern Arizona mountains. The cabins were filled with beds and we had to go outside to the “bathhouse” to take showers and use the restroom. We took flashlights, but at night, the path to the bathhouse was still scary. The only thing that flashlight lit up was the next step we were taking. It did not shine bright enough to let us know if there were bears or other critters out in the trees. (There probably weren’t, but a young girl’s imagination can go wild!)

I have come to realize that no amount of my holding up that lamp or shining that flashlight out into the future is going to give me any more clear understanding of what is “out there” than the flashlight did at camp. What God asks me to do is trust Him for what is next. He shows me the very next step that He has provided for me. As I take that step, in faith, believing that HE IS WHO HE SAYS HE IS: the God Who Sees, He will then show me the next step, and the next, and then the next. And when I get to the end of that path, I will be able to see that HE has been faithful and taken me right where I needed to be!

If I had been able to shine that flashlight into the woods at camp, I may have seen raccoons, coyotes, bears, or even other campers heading in the same direction. I may never have stepped out of my cabin if I knew what was wandering around out there. But instead, I saw only the path to the place I needed to go. In the same way, God shows us only what we can process at the time. He takes care of what is “around” us and reminds us that if it were our business, He would tell us. (John 21:22)

So, the words of that first memory verse chime in with my first favorite hymn: Trust and Obey, for there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus but to Trust and Obey!

Daddy

I already have tears in my eyes when I just say the word, "Daddy." So many memories come sweeping through my mind. I am a visual person, so my thoughts are also pictures, videos if you will, of times I spent with my Daddy. Some memories include sitting on his lap and trying to breath in the same rhythm as he did. I remember him spending countless hours in our front yard trying to grow grass in the hard Arizona desert clay. He was the "cool preacher" that went out and recon-ed amazing day camps for our young people's church group during the summers. I remember two of his three returns from Viet Nam. He looked awesome in his uniforms! I remember that terrible haircut I got just a week before senior pictures and how he let me sit on his lap and cry-again. I like to remember the caring, loving times because I know that above all else, my Daddy loved his children. There were five of us, but he was known to say that he wouldn't give away any of us. He served his country with honor and zeal, he served his Lord Jesus with honor and zeal, and he led his home with honor and zeal.

Was he perfect? I suppose not. I choose not to remember the imperfect times because God was always so evident in his life that any imperfections were covered by grace quickly.

Lately my mind has been really camping on the role of Daddies in our society. I don't watch sit coms for many reasons, but one big reason is the way men are portrayed. Have you noticed? Spineless, whipped, beer-dependent idiots. Men who do stand up for Christ are usually seen as predators or radicals in the media or in shows or movies. With so many absentee fathers out there, it is no wonder our sons are confused about their roles.

Dads, the way you treat your children is going to be their view of the Heavenly Father. Do you understand that? Think about the meaning behind these verses:

“What man among you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask Him!" (Matthew 7:9-11)

It was natural for Jesus to liken the way we see our earthly fathers to the way we can view our heavenly Father.

Consider this: "And fathers, don’t stir up anger in your children, but bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord," Ephesians 6:4 and "Fathers, do not exasperate your children, so they won’t become discouraged." Colossians 3:21.
It would be a heavy burden to know that your children may have a harder time walking to the cross because of something we have done. Let me ease our guilty minds a little here by saying that this certainly is not referring to one (or a few) moments of out of control-ness. Jesus and Paul are referring to habitual actions that anger children and turn their hearts away from their dads. Out of control tempers, alcoholism, neglect, passive fathering, spiritual dehydration, emotional distance, you fill in the blanks.

My Daddy was not a perfect man. If he were still here, he would tell you this himself. But he was known for trying to serve Christ each day, each moment, of his adult life. He sought out the Lord and His ways, and in Dad's imperfection, he paved the way for his children to seek that same Lord. I have had the blessing of returning as an adult to some of the places he pastored when I was a child. People have told me:
"I still have notes in my Bible from your Dad's sermons."
"What I know about Scripture, I learned from your Dad."
"I still remember the things he taught us in Mission Workshop."
"All the sermons Granddad ever preached are right up there on that shelf."

The enemy of our souls really wants to take our families and make them into something different from God's plan because then it will be harder for our children and grandchildren to find Christ and eternal life. Take it seriously! I am SO GLAD my Daddy did! I hope my heart beats in time with his...and HIS.

Text: Fanny J. Crosby
Music: William J. Kirkpatrick



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A wonderful Savior is Jesus my Lord,
A wonderful Savior to me;
He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock,
Where rivers of pleasure I see.

He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock
That shadows a dry, thirsty land;
He hideth my life with the depths of His love,
And covers me there with His hand,
And covers me there with His hand.

A wonderful Savior is Jesus my Lord,
He taketh my burden away;
He holdeth me up, and I shall not be moved,
He giveth me strength as my day.

He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock
That shadows a dry, thirsty land;
He hideth my life with the depths of His love,
And covers me there with His hand,
And covers me there with His hand.

With numberless blessings each moment He crowns,
And filled with His fullness divine,
I sing in my rapture, oh, glory to God
For such a Redeemer as mine!

He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock
That shadows a dry, thirsty land;
He hideth my life with the depths of His love,
And covers me there with His hand,
And covers me there with His hand.

When clothed in His brightness, transported I rise
To meet Him in clouds of the sky,
His perfect salvation, His wonderful love
I'll shout with the millions on high.

He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock
That shadows a dry, thirsty land;
He hideth my life with the depths of His love,
And covers me there with His hand,
And covers me there with His hand.

Lord Jesus

As I lay my head down to sleep a couple nights ago, I began to say my prayer like I always do as I drift off at night. I give God the last few moments of my day and all my cares and concerns, my thoughts about the day just completed, and my thanks for blessings and grace go into our final discussion of the day. I have found that I sleep much better when I drift off listening to His replies.

So, this night, I began like always, "Lord Jesus..." and my thoughts just came to a stand-still. It was as if He was saying, "Yes? I'm here..." And He led me in a discussion about what I was saying every night in that simple greeting.

First, I call to Him as Lord. The first dictionary definition says Lord is a noun that means "a person who has authority, control, or power over others; a master, chief, or ruler." As I thought about my Lord, I realized that it has been just recently, within the last 7 years as a matter of fact, that I have actually given God the Lordship over my life. I trusted Him as my Savior a long time ago, and once in a while, I would give Him temporary charge over my life, but it was too easy for me to take back control or authority and try to find a better way on my own. Until my "better ways" turned to "bitter ways" and I finally realized that only by letting God have complete control of my life, letting Him be Lord, would I find true release.

It's called submission: not a very contemporary idea, but nonetheless, necessary toward maturity. At the end of each day, by addressing my Lord, I am reminding myself and reaffirming with Him that He is the Lord of my life. Phillipians 3:12-16 "Not that I have already reached the goal or am already fully mature, but I make every effort to take hold of it because I also have been taken hold of by Christ Jesus. Brothers, I do not yet consider myself to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: forgetting what is behind and reaching forward to what is ahead, I pursue as my goal the prize promised by God’s heavenly call in Christ Jesus. Therefore, all who are mature should think this way. And if you think differently about anything, God will reveal this to you also. In any case, we should live up to whatever truth we have attained." Once I realized the freedom in submission to Jesus as my Lord, I have desired to bracket each day in recognition of this truth.

After acknowledging my Lord, I call Him by name: Jesus. As I lay there that night, I found myself overwhelmed with all that the name of Jesus means to me. Since I was a small child, I have loved Jesus. He has been my friend, my confidante, my teacher, the lover of my soul (even when I didn't). He chases away fear, evil, doubt, and guilt just by the saying of his name. Jesus is the specific, unique, only Son of God (John 3:16). He is The Way to reconciliation with the Father (John 14:6). Jesus is strength when I am weak to do the things He asks me to do (2 Corinthians 12:9, Philippians 4:13).

Jesus is the One Who commissioned me, called me to ministry. Whatever form that ministry takes, in whatever season my life is in, I answer the call because of my love for Him. When I consider all that He has carried me through, all that He has shown me, the things we have faced with grace because He was leading, I have no other choice but to serve Him. John 14: 21 & 23, "The one who has My commands and keeps them is the one who loves Me. And the one who loves Me will be loved by My Father. I also will love him and will reveal Myself to him. Jesus answered, “If anyone loves Me, he will keep My word. My Father will love him, and We will come to him and make Our home with him."

So, one night, not so long ago, I addressed my prayer to "My Lord, Jesus," and He replied, "Enough said."