Thursday, October 26, 2006

Escape

Ten Places I'd Like to Be

10. With my mother, who is cruising down the Yangtze River in China right now.

9. Enjoying the food, ambiance and culture of Tuscany.

8. On a beach, soaking in the sun, hearing the soothing sound of water rippling in the background.

7. In a remote mountain cabin with nothing to do except sleep, read and sit by the fire.

6. Spending an afternoon with any of the amazing women I call my friends.

5. Playing around with my family for at least two weeks without thought to how much it would cost.

4. Having a leisurely dinner with stimulating conversation in a great restaurant among good friends.

3. Anywhere, alone, with my husband.

2. In my bed, under a cloud of blankets, for however long it takes to feel rested.

1. Exactly where I am, smack dab in the middle of God's will for me.

I wonder, can I be fulfilling His will for me when I am dreaming of being somewhere else? Why is escape so appealing? Could it be God has wired it into us so we run to Him?

I couldn't sleep last night. One of my kids wasn't feeling well and was laying on our bedroom floor tossing and turning. It had been a busy day and I thought, "C'mon, God, this is too much. Haven't we done enough today?" I wanted to escape, but knew if I left my bed, my daughter would wonder what I was doing and never get to sleep. I felt trapped. Since I've been trying to train myself to stay in bed and redeem the time in prayer instead of getting up and wasting it some other way, I dug my heels in and held on tight. I was tense and exhausted, even feeling a little nauseous when I said, "Okay, God, I don't know why we're here again, but I'll start praying." I was so tired I didn't have the energy to think of specific prayer requests, so instead I prayed, "Lord, make yourself real to ____________________" and filled in the blank with nearly everyone I knew. After about ten minutes of this, I felt my body relaxing. The pit in my stomach went away. The concern and frustration I had over my sick child subsided.

Entering His presence WAS the escape. What would I have missed if I had gone downstairs and messed around on my computer like I wanted to, instead of entering the holy sanctuary of Him? Sweet Peace.

Do you want to run away? Have you tried escaping to His presence instead? It's a lot cheaper and more meaningful.

Escaping to exotic locations for extended periods of time--thousands of dollars.

Running into the arms of Jesus whenever necessary--priceless.

Friday, October 20, 2006

True Love

I spent some time this week wondering if the time I invest in things really matters.

"Is it worth all this effort for the ten people who will care about it?" I asked God.

"What if I thought that way?" He replied.


"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving." (Colossians 3:23-24)

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

One Day

Today we're taking a little break from the norm. I hope you enjoy a dose of fiction.

One Day

“Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
1 Corinthians 13:12

Janie knew when she heard the door slam it had not been a good day. The slam was followed by the crash of Michael’s backpack on the kitchen table and Michael muttering something about a “stupid kid”. Welcome to the teen years, she thought. Who knew the drama would begin so soon after he hit the magic number thirteen?

“Hey, how was your day?” she asked, holding her breath for the answer.

“Just great,” he said, as he untied his shoe and kicked it across the room.

“What happened?”

“Johnny Nichols, that’s what happened.” Michael grumbled.

“Now what did he do?” Janie asked.

“He keeps jabbing at me with his stupid cracks until he sees me turning red, then points it out to his buddies and laughs. I hate that guy.”

“Now, Michael. . .”

“Mom, would you rather have me punch him out?” There was no need to clench his fist to make his point. It was all ready.

“No, I wouldn’t,” Janie conceded, “but you’ve got to find a way to let it roll off your back. You can’t let it bother you so much.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Have you prayed about it?”

“That’s what I don’t get, Mom, I have. I pray about it every night before I go to bed and every day on my way to school, but nothing changes. I don’t get God.”

“We’re not supposed to “get” God, Michael, we’re supposed to trust Him.”

“How? How am I supposed to do that, Mom?”

“You listen and believe Him when He says, ‘One day you will see what I see, My child. Press on.’”


Later, both sat at the kitchen table, she with a stack of bills, her checkbook and calculator in front of her, he with books scattered across the table. They were mirror images of each other, both leaning their heads on one hand, their gaze concentrated on a sheet of paper in front of them, a pencil tapping their cheeks.

It’s not adding up, Lord, Janie thought. How are we supposed to get through this month? Am I missing something?

I don’t get this, echoed Michael’s mind. Why can’t homework ever be easy? He screwed up his face and erased his last answer.

She sighed and ran through the figures again, with no change.

Why, Lord? We do what You ask. We try to honor You. Why do we always have this struggle? Her thoughts were interrupted with a grunt from her son. She looked up to see him tearing a hole in his paper with his eraser.

“What’s the matter?”

“Why do we have to do this stupid homework? When will I ever need to know this?”

“Do you need some help?”

“Sure,” he slid his book to her, “you do it.”

“You know I can’t do it for you. Then you’d learn nothing.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“I’m not. It’s not the best thing for you. Do you need some help?”

“No,” he admitted after a deep breath, “I know what to do. I just don’t want to do it.”

She slid his book back to him, “Give it another shot.”

“Okay,” he said, flipping to the next page in his notebook, “but why does it have to be so hard?”

One day you will understand. Keep going.” As the words left her mouth, Janie was compelled to look at the pile in front of her. “I get it, Lord,” she whispered.


Walking into the nursing home, Michael leaned in close to his mother and said quietly, “This place always smells funny.”

Janie smiled, but said nothing as she deliberately made her way down the hall.

“Hey, Mom,” she said entering a dimly lit room. The woman sitting in the chair squinted her eyes and stared at her.

“What do you want?” she asked, stuffing her mail under her thigh.

“We’re here to visit, Mom,” Janie said patiently.

“Why?”

“We wanted to see you.”

“Why? What do you want from me?” She used the newspaper to cover the cards sitting on the table next to her.

Janie noticed, but chose to let it pass. “We don’t want anything from you. How are you today, Mom?”

“Who are you?” the woman hollered.

“Mom, it’s me, Janie, and Michael came along today too.” She pointed to her son, standing sheepishly behind her.

“What’s he want?”

“Just to see his grandma.” She motioned for him to say something.

“Hi, Grandma,” Michael offered.

“Hmph.” She crossed her arms and looked in a different direction.

“We brought you some Lady Fingers. I know how you like them.” Janie opened the package and set them on top of the newspaper.

The woman stared at her, then to the cookies. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt anything,” she finally said, and helped herself.

“It’s a beautiful day outside. Would you like to take a walk?” Janie suggested.

The woman looked at Michael. “Is he coming?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, lead the way,” she said grabbing Janie’s arm with one hand and the Lady Fingers with the other.

They walked for a while and then brought her back to her room.

“Goodbye, Mom. I’ll check in on you tomorrow,” Janie said kissing her cheek.

“Now who are you?” her mother asked.


On the way home, Michael was unusually quiet.

“Something the matter?” Janie wondered aloud.

Michael shrugged his shoulders and stared out the car window.

“What is it, Michael?”

Michael ran his fingers through his hair and looked solemnly at his mother. “Why do you do that, Mom?”

“What do you mean? Why do I do what?”

“Isn’t it hard for you to see Grandma like that?” Michael asked.

“Yes, yes it is.”

“Then why do it? She doesn’t even know who you are. She wouldn’t know the difference.”

“I love her, Michael. I want to see her. Besides, God tells me to honor my parents. I honor her by visiting.”

“But she doesn’t know you.”

“Does that change what is right?

“But it’s hard on you, Mom. I see it. You act happy, but your eyes are sad.”

Janie parked the car, clicked the radio off and turned her body to face her son. “Life is full of hard stuff, stuff we don’t want to do, Michael. Jesus asks us to do things that are difficult, but we aren’t alone. It’s like your homework. I’m there to help you, but you still have to do it. The hard things help us learn to be better, to do a better job of pointing others God. You have to go forward and endure.”

“How do you push yourself to do it, Mom?”

“God tells me One day it will make sense. Don’t stop. I do it for one day.”


The house was quiet. Michael was in bed. Janie looked at her calendar, shook her head and jotted something on her “to do” list. Then she started the dishwasher, folded the last load of clothes from the dryer and decided to call it a day. Walking into her bedroom, her body was weary, but her mind was working overtime.

“There’s so much to do, Lord,” she prayed, “How will I get it all done? Help me do right by Michael and Mom. Show me how best to serve them. Show me what they need. And then there’s the whole money thing. Sometimes it seems like too much.”

At the sight of her bed she dropped to her knees.

“I’m so tired, Lord,” she continued, “What do You want from me? I’m giving You all I’ve got.” Her nose started to burn and a lump formed in her throat. “I need You, Lord. I can’t do this without You. Why does life have to be so hard?”

When she could contain them no longer, the tears began rolling down her cheeks. Her head dropped to her hands and she cried softly until she was startled by a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay, Mom?” Michael asked quietly.

“I’m fine, honey,” she said, briskly wiping the tears away, “What are you doing up?”

“I couldn’t sleep and saw your light on. Everything will be all right, Mom.”

“I know, honey, I’m just tired.”

One day, Mom. You have to keep going for one day.”

“Hmm?” she asked, still trying to gain her composure.

One day we’ll understand. One day it will all make sense. One day it will be clear. One day we’ll see how the hard times helped us learn. We can’t see it all now, but one day. . .”

Janie stared at her son, then grasped his face in her hands and kissed his cheek delicately. Her eyes began to sparkle and a smile crossed her lips. Turning to sit on the floor, she pulled Michael down next to her, put her arm around him and peered into their future.

One day,” she muttered, “imagine that. . .I can’t wait.”

Friday, October 13, 2006

When Easy is Not Best

Have you ever prayed about something for years and not gotten the answer you've wanted? Have you put all your trust in God and seen few results (at least not the ones you were looking for)? Do you, like me, often ask God, "Why can't it be easy, just this once?"

I admit I am jealous of people who pray for something for a short time and get the miraculous answer they're looking for. I try really hard to be happy for them, I do. But there's always so much I don't understand.

For instance, a woman in my Bible study group asked for prayer for her brother-in-law diagnosed with lung cancer. We prayed (along with many others, I'm sure) and he responded very well to treatment. The SAME Bible study group prayed for my own father with the SAME diagnosis and he only lived a few months. Why? What made the difference?

My husband and I have wanted to get rid of a rental house for seven years. This week, relatives of ours had a yen to sell their home and had it done before the sign made it in the yard. Why is it so easy for some people? No, that's not my real question. What I really want to know is, "God, why can't it be easy for me?"

Why does life have to be so hard? Why do I have to be the patient one? Why do thoughts continually run through my mind trying to figure everything out? Why do I have to feel everything so deeply? Why must I always wait on the Lord? The only answer I ever get is, "TRUST ME."

I must acknowledge I do see some progress in myself. I must have learned something having to wait on God. I don't sweat it like I used to when our renters are late in paying. When an unexpected car repair costs more than its original purchase price I think, "Okay, God, You're going to have to take care of that one," and don't lose any sleep over it. I rejoice over the deteriorating nature of my couch because I know God promises to meet my NEEDS. A new couch will soon be a NEED. See? Progress. Looking back, would I want things to have been easy and never grown? Mmmm. . .I don't think so.

This summer we saw the movie Click. It's about a man who obtains a remote which controls his life. He discovers he can fast forward through the tough stuff, the arguments, the mundane, the annoying. But as he gets in the habit of fast forwarding through these, he notices his life flashing before him. By the end of his life he realizes he has missed it all by avoiding what is hard. It was a good illustration that taking away the lows takes away our highs. We rejoice more when the road has been difficult than when it is smooth sailing. Just as I have greater joy in watching one of my kids conquer a fear than seeing them maintain, God delights in seeing us overcome. Our hard times give us reason to celebrate later.

And there is reward in getting through the tough stuff. I am stronger, wiser, more trusting. Every time I have to do something the "hard" way, I gain more confidence that God is my security net. There is no replacement for that kind of peace. It is a gift, albeit hard won. We are in training, people. It doesn't always feel good at the time, but it will be of tremendous benefit later.

"No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." (Hebrews 12:11)

I can't honestly say I'd ask for the tough stuff, but I won't bemoan it either. God knows what's best for me. He knows what will bring me the most good. I have to trust Him and do my best to trudge through the valleys. Who knows what might be on the other side?

Monday, October 09, 2006

Complete

I've had a song we're working on in choir stuck in my head for days. The lyrics are powerful and speak to my heart right now.

"Here I am, O God.
I bring this sacrifice: my open heart;
I offer up my life.
I look to You, Lord.
Your love that never ends restores me again.

So I lift my eyes to You, Lord.
In Your strength will I break through, Lord.
Touch me now, let Your love fall down on me,
and I will be complete in You.

Here I am, O God.
I bring this sacrifice: my open heart;
I offer up my life.
I look to You, Lord.
Your love that never ends restores me again.

So I lift my eyes to You, Lord.
And by faith I will walk on, Lord.
Then I'll see beyond my Calvary one day,
and I will be complete in;
I look to You, Lord.
Your love that never ends restores me again.

My Jesus, I love Thee,
I know Thou art mine;
For Thee, all the follies of sin I resign;
My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art Thou;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, 'tis now.

So I lift my eyes to You, Lord.
In Your strength will I break through, Lord.
Touch me now, let Your love fall down on me;
I know Your love dispels all my fears.
Through the storm I will hold on, Lord.
and by faith I will walk on, Lord.
Then I'll see beyond my Calvary one day,
and I will be complete in,
I will be complete in,
I will be complete in You."


I had a hard time figuring out what the phrase "Then I'll see beyond my Calvary one day" meant. The dear lady sitting next to me suggested it meant one day I'll see past the cross I bear now. One day I'll see why He gave me specific weaknesses or circumstances. One day I'll "get it" all. But until then, I WILL hold on. I WILL walk on in faith. I can be complete in His love. I spend so much time feeling inadequate, being complete in Him seems too good to be true, but I believe it is Biblical. What a promise.

"Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me." (Philippians 3:12)

Lord, I press on. Touch me now. Let Your love fall down on me. Make me complete.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

A Bump in My Road

So I'm cruising along, following the path laid out before me, when suddenly, without warning, I hit a bump, a HUGE bump. "How could this happen?" I ask myself over and over. I've observed all the regulations. I've been focused. I've not strayed from the road. I have never been more in tune with my "global positioning system". How could I hit such a bump?

Trying to figure out how it happened did not change the fact that it did. I had a choice to make. I could let the bump stop me and my journey or I could attempt to repair the damage, take a pit stop, refuel and get back in the car. Now I'm no dummy. I knew the right choice, but it was easier said than done. It required utter humility and acceptance that I won't get how God works sometimes. I gathered up my battered body and thanked God for the bump, not necesssarily with joy at first. But I noticed as I did what was right, my heart eventually caught up. I can honestly say I see many good things resulting from my bump experience now. I can say they were worth the pain. Don't you have to stand back in awe and wonder at how God does that?

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight." (Proverbs 3:5-6) The path may be straight, but some days it feels as though I'm walking over rocks with bare feet. It smarts a little, but I will not choose what appears to be an easier route. You see, deep down, I love God so much, I just have to get back in that car. I may not understand. I may feel shaken, but if I want to honor Him, I have to obey Him. If YOU love Him, you have to obey Him. You have to do what is right.

Romans 11:29 tells me, "for God's gifts and His call are irrevocable." I can't give them back (neither can you, by the way). I can't deny they exist. Whether I "feel" like it or not, I am responsible for them in the same way I am obligated to my children whether I feel like being a mother or not. My gifts and my calling are part of me. Your gifts and calling are part of you. We can't ignore them. We have to use them, no matter how hard it may be sometimes. We may be tired and not too crazy about how vulnerable they make us, but if we love Him, we will press on and use them.

God woke me up this morning with these gentle words: "I took you from the ends of the earth, from its farthest corners I called you. I said, 'You are my servant'; I have chosen you and have not rejected you. So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you." (Isaiah 41:9-10,13)

Mmmmm. Don't you just love that? Don't you want to believe it? I CHOOSE to believe it. Will you? Will you, along with me, take a deep breath and say, "Okay, Lord, lead the way"? I'm grabbing God's hand and officially getting back in my car now. I may be driving a little slower, but I'm picking up speed. I pray I see you on the road too. Hey, maybe we can car pool some time.