Dry Spell Showers

Occasionally I write essays for a collaborative writers' website. This was one I posted about  when "I feel awkward in my relationship with Jesus, like something’s not quite fitting..." To read the whole thing you can visit the link below for www.baaaaa.com .


When I read stories of people in the Bible, it’s like reading about old friends, people I once knew and still remember. Martha is no exception. In fact, I believe I owe Martha an apology.

For years, I identified with her sister Mary, the emotional, extravagant worshiper who ‘wasted’ her love on Jesus. I admired her passion and the depth of her love. I looked at Martha scurrying about the kitchen and shook my head, “Tsk, tsk.”

My judgment came from some self-righteous place in my heart that exalted the right brain, with all its passion, creativity and emotion. After all, that’s where I spent much of my time, so it must be the better half, right? I believed that extravagant, right-brain worship somehow pleased Jesus more than left-brain worship.

So, here it is: I’m in a dry place. No spiritual crisis of faith, just dry. It happens. These days, I can’t rely on my usual right-brain methods of connecting with Jesus. This extravagant worshiper is not so extravagant right now. Instead, I’m connecting with Jesus on a more intellectual plane. That’s not exactly new, because I’ve always been a nerd; the difference is, I was an emotional, messy, creative nerd. Now that my inner artist is on retreat, I feel awkward in my relationship with Jesus, like something’s not quite fitting.

Until I read about Martha.....To read more visit
http://baaaaa.com/2012/01/31/dry-spell-showers/#comments

Bruised Fruit Salsa

Occasionally I write essays for a collaborative writers' website. This was one I posted about being "bruised and battered on the outside—but teeming with possibilities and potential in the right hands. They just need someone with vision to come along and pluck them from the bin." To read the whole thing you can visit the link to www.baaaaa.com below.

We have a new produce store in our town. It’s reminiscent of a red-and-white-striped roadside stand, with air conditioning and doors that magically open when they sense my presence. My son and I visited on a day when a good portion of the produce was past its ‘sell by’ date. Bruised fruit sold at a deep discount, displaying a dance company of fruit flies. Blemished limes, soft tomatoes, spotted peppers, slightly brown cilantro, and fruit-fly-adorned red onions filled up my basket alongside several other selections. My mouth watered at the prospect of the culinary delight I had planned for my produce-stand rejects.

I could already envision the playful argument I would have with my husband, forbidding him to put the bowl of salsa to his lips like an umbrella drink. “That’s what the tortilla chips are for.”... To read the more go to  http://baaaaa.com/2012/06/12/bruised-fruit-salsa/#comments

Not settling for my own...

The prayers of a righteous man avail much (powerful and effective) (James 5:16).

 If the righteousness James is discussing was really my own then it wouldn't result in much at all- my righteousness is like filthy rags. However, it's not my own righteousness he is talking about but Christ's righteousness that I wear as a robe because I am a believer.

Christ's righteousness is like a blazing sun. When I pray, wearing the robes of Christ's righteousness that every believer is given through faith and grace, I can partner with God to usher in His will into this world and establish His kingdom now.

So pray for each other! It matters, it makes a difference. It's God's design that we ask Him to establish His kingdom in each other's lives. A kingdom of life that can affect our work, our home, our relationships. Our health, our daily duties and tasks. Our dreams, our cares, our concerns.

Not that we are asking Him to impose our will on our day but that we might welcome His will into our day.

And how much more will be affected in myself and in my life if I welcome His will into it rather then settle for my own will.

Literally Speaking: Ahab is to Moby Dick as Life is to Me

So I have another idea for some themed essays called "Literally Speaking" that will use some of my favorite literature to talk about...well, me. Me and life. Me and God. Me and meaningful stuff I'm sure. So this is the first one and it was originally posted on a Christian writer's blog called "Baaaaa- Bleats from God's sheep." The link for the whole thing can be found here...http://www.baaaaa.com. I would love it if you left a comment there or here but no obligation.***This site no longer exists but was a wonderful experience for me as a person trying to improve as a writer. I am forever grateful to my editor there, Catherine Fruisen (a.k.a. Violet Lemay)

Sometimes in life I feel like the Great White Whale being pursued relentlessly by Ahab. Tangled by ropes with harpoons piercing my side I plow through the ocean of life trying to take down my enemy and survive.

 

                Dramatic, I know. True?  Somewhat, not completely but that’s how I feel.  I’m exiting one of these literary inspired seasons right now. They usually start the same way.  A sudden increase in pesky gnat like annoyances and responsibilities I can’t hand off to someone else.  Not major problems, just a swarm of regular life tasks that must be dealt with all at once.  This is typically accompanied by a large number of people who need my help to accomplish their goals or fix their problems.  Then, when I’m not looking because I’m so busy with my ‘to do’ list, I hear, “Whale Ho!” and a harpoon pierces my hide.

 

                Harpoons take me by surprise either because of their mass or because of their tragic nature. They knock the wind out of me and this is usually when I can get into trouble. Like Melville’s whale I have a natural tendency to believe I have to take car life’s cares and tragedies on my own. That is my biggest mistake. I might as well post an “Open Season on Whales” sign.

 

                This is where the analogy falls apart. The reality is that I am not a lone beast out in the world being hunted by an evil maniacal hunter bent on my destruction with no recourse but to lash out and fight to survive or die trying.  The truth is I am not alone.  I am not responsible for taking out my enemy or deflecting the harpoons of life on my own.  I am much more than an animal that wanders through life on instinct but I sometimes live as if I believe this. 

 

I try to be my own source of life and strength.  It might seem to work for a little while but it doesn’t take long to find myself depleted like a branch cut off from a vine.  The flower blooms for a time but without the source of life that flows through the vine I soon wither and fade.

 

Jesus said he could do nothing apart from his father (John 5:19).  Nothing.  Author of Life.  Bright and Morning Star. Conqueror of Death. And he said he can do nothing if he is apart from the Father.  So why is it I live as if I can do what he couldn’t?  Somewhere along the way I forget what I know is true.

 

 "I am the true vine … remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.  "I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If anyone does not remain in me, he is like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned.” John 15:1, 4-6

 

And then it happens.  I hear His voice.  I’m nudged.  Reminded.  Maybe even knocked in the head really hard.  He gets my attention and I remember that life separated from him is more than lonely it is unnecessarily lifeless.  But when I surrender my mind, my will to him and say, “I give you everything. Even my inability to know how to live as the branch connected to you,” I receive a fresh flow of his life giving Spirit. I am no longer the whale thrashing in the sea but I am surrounded by an ocean of Peace. The whaling boats are on the surface but I am surrounded by him.

 

Now I find myself entering a season marked more by dependence and surrender than independence and striving.  Chances are at some point I will find myself being pursued again. Maybe next time it won’t take so many harpoons to remind me to dive deeper into his sea of life.

Too read the whole essay go to http://baaaaa.com/2012/10/16/ahab-is-to-moby-dick-as-life-is-to-me/

So much in common, I supposed.

I'm a clutz. A bonafide, verified, genuine clutz. I don't even have to try to get bruises because they come looking for me. That cartoon where Daffy Duck steps on a 2x4 and gets whacked in the bill. I've done that. I am not really surprised when I get slammed because I've come to expect it even if I don't see it coming.

But sometimes other things happen in life that feel like you just got whacked in the bill by a 2x4 and you are surprised. Brutally, flagrantly surprised. You really don't see it coming and not only did you not see it coming you never even thought it would come.

It happened this morning while I was erasing pages from my daughter's language arts workbook. Being the frugal mom that I am I purchased a used workbook that was adverised on a homeschool site. It said that a few pages had been filled in with a pencil, 'easily erased' it said. I said, 'sold'!  We've had if for several months and I've been erasing the pages as I need them.

Erasing someone elses words seems like a benign task, especially when they've been written lightly on a page by a child. A child that is my own child's age who is also home schooled like my own child. So much in common. A family that chose to school their child like our family did. I enter what I now realize may be a romanticized view of other people in the world. I assume we have so much in common and on the surface we do but then I see it.

I didn't really know what it was I was seeing at first. A child's scrawl over preprinted words on a page, I almost missed it. I started to erase those pencil marks written over a printed word in black and thought nothing of it but something didn't fit. I stopped and peered harder at what I saw.

No, that can't be right? I looked harder. I leaned in to the page really close to make sure my eyes weren't tricking me.

And there it was. Written over the word 'negro' was another word that began with 'n', ended with 'r' but there the similarities ended.

I don't have words to describe fully what I felt. Dismay is the closest word. My heart sank. I was filled with disbelief followed shortly by sadness.

Where did that word come from? How did that child even know the word? Where did they learn to spell it?

I must be cautious not to presume too much. They are strangers to me and there are many influences in a child's life.

It gave me great pause and made me soberly remember the mandate.

Raise up a child in the way he should go and he will not easily depart from it....

Defying Gravity: The pull of matter

My first in a series of essays about resisting the pull of this world.

I would have to say it is the whining that annoys me the most. In fact, annoying is not a strong enough word. Nor is irksome but they will have to do. When I hear that voice say, "Oh, can I have it? I really, really want it. I need it!" my neck gets tense and I have to close my eyes and count to ten before I do something rash. Like whip out my wallet.

I could say my kids whine (don't they all?) but I really have to look out for my own gimme attitude too. Let's face it, the pull of matter is strong. You know matter, it is also known as 'stuff' and it calls my name. How can I expect my kids to stop asking for stuff if I give in to the same material sirens calling to me? Over the years I have learned a few tricks to diffuse the allure of the shiny things at the mall.

Create a commercial desert. For the first 7 years of our marriage we did not have cable. It was one of those cost saving measures we took to keep me from working full time. Eventually we did have cable and we watched all types of nifty, educational and time waster shows. We had it for years. Then we cut it off, mostly. We get the local channels and streaming television and movies with Netflix, Hulu Plus and Youtube through our XBox.Clearly we have no shortage of entertainment but that is for another conversation. After a while I noticed the "gimmes" dramatically decreased from all of us. The secret? Our home is a commercial desert. Streaming services are either advertisement free or they are limited. So instead of my kids being bombarded by toy commercials from Disney clones they have to watch car insurance commercials.


Demagnetize the mall. The mall is a magnet for matter. Pretty obvious I know but let's be honest. Did you even know you needed that combination shiatsu massager seat warmer with bonus smoothie maker from Brookstone before you saw it at the mall? Well, maybe if you are from Wisconsin but I live in sub-tropical Georgia so I really don't need it. We used to hang out at the air conditioned play place weekly when the kids were little and were bombarded by the shiny stuff that lives there. Now we go less than once a month and usually with a plan. Even when I go to window shop with my preteen daughter I have a plan of which stores we will visit to minimize the pull of matter. Which brings me to the third thing I have learned about myself.

Disdain dens of discontent There are some stores that are on my personal no fly list. Primary reason? They make me discontent. This goes deeper than just wanting stuff. I actually become unhappy and lose my ability to choose contentment. I can be walking along enjoying my guilty pleasure (tall coffee with cream and a shot of hazelnut) feeling good about me without a second thought about my hair, make up or outfit when my eyes wander to the one store in the mall that calls out to me more than any other, The Limited. It isn't just the clothes but the image they are selling of a sophisticated, classic beauty that pulls at me. If I walk around that store I start comparing myself to the image they are selling and feel like I come up short. I almost begin to believe the lie that this is the image I want people to see and you know what? It really isn't. I want to be recognized for my heart, compassion, intelligence, creativity and character. When I forget that then I know to put up imaginary police tape around anything that feeds me a lie I will buy.

These are just a few practical choices that work for our family. What about yours? What do you do to resist the pull of matter?

The day after...

Happy day after Resurrection Day!

Can you imagine what it must have been like for Jesus' friends the day after the first Easter? Death has lost it's sting. The despair of a promise destroyed replaced with the hope of a future you never imagined possible.

Mystery, questions, uncertainty still abound but the hope of the truth of Christ brings an anchor to our rocking boat. We may not know with certainty what today or tomorrow may bring. We may not have assurance that our plans will come out as we have planned. But the 'plan' is not what we pin our hopes to. He has proven He is God and He has proven He loves US. Rest there a moment.

He loves you.

So if today brings calamity or if our plans end in what we see as failure the truth does not change.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/92531887@N04/12012616583/in/photostream/

He is God.
He loves me.
He is with me and He has not failed.

This is what I believe and it is the hope I cling to when the sun shines and when the night is dark. Easter has proven it.

I pray we are filled with the supernatural Hope that Christ has given us. I pray our mind is anchored to the Truth that His resurrection has assured. I pray we believe He loves us because what we believe is what we live. And to Him who is eternal be glory and honor forever. Amen.

"And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." Romans 5:5 

Break Up Lines

Break up lines

come from my lips

applying to the state of us.

"We've drifted apart,"

seems appropriate

but more honestly,

"It's not you, it's me."

You haven't gone anywhere,

Pursuer of my soul,

but I have.

Without going anywhere,

I have.

I feel this way sometimes about God. "Where have you gone?" is the question asked and felt but really I'm asking myself the question. He hasn't gone anywhere. Somewhere I slipped on the slopes of mundane and mediocrity. The everyday living of life without intentionality and purpose leads me to those slopes. Fortunately I don't slip too far off the mountain. It helps that he's holding his staff down to me to pull me back up. Renewed in my heart with the fresh memory of my inability to lead myself rightly I live purposefully and intentionally. Until I slip off the slope again. Usually because I got off his back. There I go again thinking I can lead myself but there he is again ready to carry me.