A Timely Tip from the TV

She thought she was pretty funny.

Our next door neighbor called us a couple of weekends ago--that frigid, nasty, and snowy Saturday we had in mid-January. She said she was calling to check on us. The TV news anchor had just suggested that viewers everywhere reach out to their elderly friends and family members to make sure they were safe and warm. Really?

I know I had a relatively big birthday this past year, but elderly? I’m not sure I’m ready to think of me or us in those terms just yet.  Besides, I grew up with my neighbor…we are practically the same age! It was all for fun, and we had a good laugh at ourselves, crotchety old codgers that we are becoming.

Although my friend was just joking around with us, her call gave me pause. After a few minutes of consideration, I made a few genuine calls myself. Were the older folks I care about okay? Were they safe and warm, plowed out and well provisioned? Was there anything they needed me to do for them, to go out and buy for them? It was a very good idea to check. That news guy got it right for a change.

I read a quote a while back that has stuck in my head. “Never lose sight of the fact that old age needs so little but needs that little so much,” Margaret Wilbur wisely observed. I think she’s on to something not so little. It’s huge, in fact. And not just for winter snow days.

As our elderly, truly elderly, loved ones age, their world shrinks and closes in on them dramatically. Their focus turns inward and ease and comfort rule the day. They eat less, notice less, socialize less, work less, and, yes, basically need less. Much less. A TV with a remote, some microwave meals in the freezer, a cranked up electric heater, a couple of tubes of BENGAY, an occasional phone call, a case or two of vanilla Ensure, and a boatload of pills—they are good to go.  Please don’t think me flippant. I have observed this, with a few variations, too often not to mark the inevitable pattern. Some of this is out of necessity, not being able to physically and/or mentally handle the challenges and rigors of the day-to-day. Some of it may even be a financial issue. Some of it is simply the inevitable aging process.

But, for whatever reason, gone are squeaky clean windows, well-manicured lawns, Clorox whites flapping on the line, canned peaches lining the shelf, dinners at Kentucky Fried Chicken, driving the camper to Florida to winter, Christmas cards, routine visits to ShopRite with the envelope brimming with coupons, and, sadly, even the weekly and dearly missed church services. The old is gone, the new has come. Things once sacred and uncompromising and obligatory are now optional and even considered unnecessary. These things no longer fall into the category of “needs.” A variety of food? An uncluttered living space? More than one change of clean clothing? A weekly shower? A bad credit report? Who cares?

While our loved one’s list of perceived “needs” may be shorter, those needs are quite costly for us, the caregivers or the concerned friends. Just keeping track of doctor visits and prescription drugs can be a full- time job. And then there is laundry, yard work, grocery shopping, housework, mail, personal hygiene, and bill paying…things now on the “noncompulsory” list for our older folks, things too difficult or painful or unimportant for them to deal with. But how compulsory for us! How big that “little” may become for those who seek to help.

Do you have a real elderly neighbor or friend? Do you know of a senior saint here at LFA that has no family to support him or her? Do you have an aging mom or dad or grandma or grandpa? Do you have a friend who is caring for someone dear? Max Lucado, in Grace for the Moment, Volume II, wrote something pertinent to this discussion. Have a look.

What is the sign of the saved? Their scholarship? Their willingness to go to foreign lands? Their ability to amass an audience and preach? Their skillful pens and hope-filled volumes? Their great miracles? No.

The sign of the saved is their love for the least.

Those put on the right hand of God will be those who gave food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, warmth to the lonely, clothing to the naked, comfort to the sick and friendship to the imprisoned.

Did you note how simple the works are? Jesus doesn’t say, “I was sick and you healed me…I was in prison and you liberated me…I was lonely and you built a retirement home for me.” He doesn’t say, “I was thirsty and you gave me spiritual counsel.”

No fanfare. No hoopla. No media coverage. Just good people doing good things.

I like that. It helps me know what I need to do.

Because it seems to me, then, that we as God’s people most effectively demonstrate just who we are, followers and lovers of King Jesus, by caring for and serving some of the “least,” in this case, His precious elderly. And we can accomplish that by doing the little things that they need so very much in their tiny worlds, even if it inconveniences us or consumes our time. We can also, I think, please the King when we encourage and/or assist a full-time caregiver, some of the most exhausted and loneliest people around.

Jesus said that whatever we do for the ones He called the “least,” we are actually doing it to Him. Can you even begin to imagine what that means, what that would look like, what that would cost? Talk about doing a good job! Talk about being faithful and intentional and diligent! Talk about patience, kindness, gentleness, and love! If that’s not a compelling reason for purposefully and whole-heartedly helping a little old lady or gentleman, then I don’t know what is!

So, call somebody the Spirit brings to mind today. He’s got someone, I’m sure. Grab a few groceries for him the next time you’re out. Bake some cookies. Rake some leaves for her. Get the mail. Visit. Offer a ride to the bank. Sit for a couple of hours with an elderly mama so her harried daughter can get her hair cut or have a coffee.  At the very least, call your mother! But don’t say it’s because she’s old—just a warning.

It’s little things. But they are things that mean so very much.  To your elderly neighbor and to King Jesus.

Yep, that newsman was right on target. So was my sweet neighbor.

Who knew?

This Will Have to Do

This Will Have To Do does not equal God’s Best For Us

It is part of our human nature to make assessments and determine what we think is best for us in a given moment.

The other morning as I was getting ready to go to work in the morning, I realized I had too many things in my hands. The day was cloudy, and it was raining very lightly. I placed several items inside the car, started the engine and before getting into the car I noticed the trash can needed to be brought in from the curbside. Since I did not want my glasses to get wet, I proceeded to take them off and placed them on top of the car. I went out of the garage, took care of the trash can and came back into the car—completely forgetting that I had placed the glasses on top of it. I drove out of our drive way and as soon as I approached the intersection, I hear a noise that was familiar, but I dismissed it thinking it was a twig caught underneath the car. Then on a second thought, I suddenly remembered that my glasses were on top of the car! I pulled over, and I was so thankful to find my glasses caught in the spoiler in the back of the car. I thought in retrospect what a stupid choice that had been. What would guarantee that I would remember something that was not a routine for my brain to quickly be prompted about again? 

Allow me to take you back to the exact moment when I took off my glasses and placed them on top of the car. I remember thinking for a split second, “This is not a good idea, but it will have to do.” Thankfully the outcome was not a loss of my glasses or the destruction thereof.

How many times in real life do we know what God desires for us to do, in order to choose life on his terms, but we tell ourselves I have a different idea of how to make this work and “this will have to do”? Have you been there? I have. And in some cases the consequences were less than desirable. I can think of occasions in my parenting where, in the midst of being angry at my daughter, I would recognize the option to slow down and think before speaking—which the Holy Spirit would offer to me in the moment. But what would I do? Regretfully, I would go right ahead and plow her with my words, and then pick up the pieces. Or the time when I was single and I refused to heed to the message God was giving me through several people about ending a relationship I was involved in. Convinced of how helpful that relationship would be in addressing some relational insecurities, I told myself again, “This will have to do.” Later on I had to deal with some painful consequences, including the pain I caused others in the process.

There is no question in my mind now that sin runs really deep at the point where we, very aware of our own destructive and proud choices, tell ourselves, “This will have to do.” If there is one strong deception sin brings with it all the time, it is the lie that the reward is worth the price even if it kills us in the process.

Here is were we go dead wrong. We talk ourselves into believing that what we deem sufficient or good at the moment is better than the life God offers us graciously. In the Bible, King Solomon affirmed it this way: “There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death.” (Proverbs 14:12).

So the next time the message plays in your head, “This will have to do,” I encourage you to stop, think and question that message. Then consider this better message pronounced by God: 

“Come, everyone who thirsts,

    come to the waters;

and he who has no money,

    come, buy and eat!

Come, buy wine and milk

    without money and without price.

 Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,

    and your labor for that which does not satisfy?

Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good,

    and delight yourselves in rich food.

 Incline your ear, and come to me;

    hear, that your soul may live;…”  —-(Isaiah 55)

The Art of Hearing

Here is how it unfolded today:

•       I am kindly reminded I have a blog due for LFA tomorrow.
•      A great recommendation from my best friend comes my way: How about you do it on “The Art of Hearing,” and I respond, “YES! That’s great!”
•       I then begin to think about that word HEARING, as I usually do when it’s blog time. Trying to see a neat acronym or some such thing that will draw the reader in!
•       Well, the coolest thing hit me: HEARING, in the verbal form, is accomplished through the EAR! The word is embedded into the middle of the word HEARING! Isn’t that interesting? Somebody do a word study and let me know if there’s any significance to that.

Anyhow, onto the blog for the week:) “The Art of Hearing”

I am going to do my best to practice the art of communicating well. And boy did it take practice.  The other piece is the Art of Hearing, the one that this blog will be focused on today.

I find that one of the biggest mistakes we make when it comes to hearing someone else, is the practice of conjuring up a whole litany of defense statements/excuses to come back at the person talking to us in order to get the victory in the “courtroom,” especially in conflict situations. Most of us do not like to be criticized due to the fact that we think we rarely do anything wrong! Therefore, it would not be our fault, which would avoid having to say, “I’m sorry for these things”, plus it requires the offender to take responsibility for their actions. It doesn’t stop there for people who follow Jesus. Also included in the Confession (I’m sorry for...) is repentance, which means turning away from that very thing that hurt the other person. It is a beautiful process of reconciliation that God has created for us to walk through when hurts arise. But, none of this can occur without learning how to really, I mean REALLY, listen to the other person.

A way to gauge how well you listen to someone else is to try this exercise. It’s called “Parrot Talk”. Here is how the exercise goes:

1. There will be the speaker (the one who has been offended)
2. There also is the listener (or the hearer for the sake of this blog)!
3. The speaker will follow this pattern: I feel ________________________ because you did not listen to what I was really saying about the issue I’m having with my boss (a feeling word is one word, ie- happy, sad, angry, etc).
4. The listener will then follow this pattern: I hear you saying that you feel __________________because I did not listen to what you were really saying about the issue you are having with your boss. Is that right?
5. The speaker can then say, “Yes. That is what I am saying.”
6. Sometimes, most times for that matter, I have worked with couples that it doesn’t go this smoothly. Most people, unless they have intentionally worked on the art of hearing, do not hear others well. Listen for people’s feeling. Listen to what they are saying to you, instead of creating immature arguments so you do not look so bad. All of us want to be heard. And when you know the other person has really heard you, is mature enough to take the responsibility that belongs to them, and work on the issue together, that is one of the basic building blocks of developing relationship.

There are times when I know I am not going to be a good listener when someone asks me to talk. It is my responsibility to set a boundary by letting them know that I am very interested in what they want to talk about, but now is not a good time due to my limitations (time, tired, etc.). At the same time, it is also my responsibility to give them some options of when I would be available to discuss things. In that, I have sent the message that I care. So in this case, it would be very important that the person, other than myself, be a good listener. That way they do not leave our interaction feeling blown off, since I did communicate how important they were, as well as the content they wanted to discuss.

I would encourage you all to check out these verses that have impacted my walk with Jesus is learning the Art of Hearing.

James 1:19 ESV “Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger;”

 Proverbs 12:15 ESV “The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man listens to advice.”

 Proverbs 18:13 ESV “If one gives an answer before he hears, it is his folly and shame.”

Proverbs 19:27 ESV “Cease to hear instruction, my son, and you will stray from the words of knowledge.”

 Proverbs 5:1-23 ESV “My son, be attentive to my wisdom; incline your ear to my understanding, that you may keep discretion, and your lips may guard knowledge. For the lips of a forbidden woman drip honey, and her speech is smoother than oil, but in the end she is bitter as wormwood, sharp as a two-edged sword. Her feet go down to death; her steps follow the path to Sheol; ...”

Proverbs 18:2 ESV “A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only in expressing his opinion.”

Be blessed friends and thanks for reading! 

Why Do We Pray?

As we begin a New Year, our thoughts can easily turn to the “essentials” of life. What are some realities I would like to regain this year? Perhaps you are thinking better stewardship of finances, healthy habits, relationships, personal growth, and the list can go on. Whether prayer is or is not on your list, I want to encourage you to read David Powlison’s blog. In this blog, Powlison explores what makes prayer drift from our lives, how do we communicate with God, and why do we need to pray in the first place. I found his insights refreshing and inspiring. Click here to read the full blog.

May God give you grace to help you enrich your communication and dependency on Him!

The Legacy of Pop

On December 31, 2016, New Year’s Eve, my mom’s dad, my beloved grandfather, went to be with the Lord. We had just visited him a few days before around Christmas, and he greeted me with a warm joyful smile and said, “I’ve been waiting for you to get here, Thor.” His aged frame was thinner and his hair was almost completely gone. His frail body was about to release his spirit to the Lord. There was a sense of peace and of joy. His full life was about to enter real fullness. He was on the doorstep of Heaven’s eternity. He died on New Year’s Eve.

Most of my personality traits come from my parents. My dad was a hard worker and loved people. He had a caring spirit for others and readily gave. My mom, besides raising us and teaching us the Scriptures (my mom made us memorize verses and passages), was a disciple and counselor of many women. She led many studies, prayed for many, and I watched our home and her time as a revolving door of discipleship.

My mom’s dad, my grandfather, AKA Pop, lived a few miles from us, with my grandmother. This was a privileged heritage (for me) to have my grandparents for 45 years. My grandmother, AKA Gram, just had her 87th birthday right after Pop passed. We spent a lot of time with them when I was growing up. Pop was a house painter, a carpenter, and an artist. In fact, he is (was) a world champion duck decoy carver. His decoys, which look very real, are considered by some to be some of the best ever. Every Christmas, Pop would take his son, his daughters, and his grandchildren, to the shelved wall and say, “Choose.” Sometimes he would pick one for you. Often, you just chose. These ducks were 120-150 hour labors of love. He gave out of what he did best. Tears would flow because no one could match his decoy gifts. They were valuable but had no price. They were in essence, priceless. This steady man who painted, worked with wood and carved like a genius, also hunted and fished. I won’t tell you how many times I fell in the spillway in the old Milford, Delaware, only to have Pop pull me out laughing. He wasn’t mad. He just laughed and would take me home to get changed. Then we would go right back out. My grandfather was a slow man. He was steadfast. He gave gifts of time and of wood, painted wood that has a beauty that is completely unparalleled and unmatched. You knew he loved you. I knew he loved me- and it was just because I was his first grandchild.

Pop’s life wasn’t without battles. He served in World War II as a medic in Normandy and throughout Europe. He battled alcohol the first half of his life, only to repent of this with some major pressure from Gram. I don’t recall him ever drinking. I see him in his chair and at his workshop desk, carving and etching and burning and painting under a bright light those decoys, those beloved priceless masterpieces. And I suspect that The Great Carpenter, our Savior and Lord, Christ Jesus, has already showed Pop a thing or two and made his work even better than here on earth.

In Memory of Roland Downes (1922-2016)

I Need MORE Christmas!!!

If there's anything I need to hear after the Christmas season this year, it's MORE of the Christmas season.

I'm not talking about hearing more requests for every single toy under the sun from my children, or more 'Chestnuts roasting on an open fire,' or more hilarious quotes from Elf, as much as I enjoy (some of) that stuff during December. OHHH NO! Along with the rest of America, I'm so over that version of Christmas now that it's January.

But what I desperately do need to hear, deep in my weary soul, is more of the message of Christmas as I move back into my regular post-holidays routine: Immanuel, God With Us. 

I desperately need to hear 'God With Us' as I switch back into the daily grind of my first year of homeschooling my two girls.

I desperately need to hear 'God With Us' as I look around the mess of a house that just went through Christmas and a trip to West Virginia, and I know the hours and effort it will take to get it all back to normal.

I desperately need to hear 'God With Us' when my natural tendency is to let my patience run thin with my children.

I desperately need to hear 'God With Us' when there are things in our marriage that I'd rather just ignore, but my husband and I need to talk out.

I desperately need to hear 'God With Us' when I don't understand what's going on inside of me, and I feel overwhelmed by my emotions.

I read a devotional thought from Paul Tripp a week or so ago that resonated with my need to know that Immanuel, God With Us, is still with ME, today, in the middle of the everyday things that threaten to overwhelm me:

“Jesus is named Emmanuel, not just because he came to earth once, but because he makes you the place where he dwells every day. This means he is present and active in all the mundane moments of your daily life.

In these small moments, he is delivering every redemptive promise he has made to you. In these unremarkable moments, he is working to rescue you from you and transform you into his likeness.

By sovereign grace, your Lord will place you in ten thousand little moments that are designed to take you beyond your character, wisdom and grace so that you’ll seek the help and hope that can only be found in him. In a lifelong process of change, he is undoing you and rebuilding you again - exactly what each one of us needs!”

— http://www.paultripp.com/wednesdays-word/posts/new-year-new-you

I love that thought, that the things that overwhelm me, are not necessarily my fault, or something that I should change and fix, but I can, instead, view them as graces from Immanuel, God With Us. He is intentionally and graciously bringing me to points where I am "beyond my character, wisdom and grace"...so that I look outside of ME...to HIM.

So that's what I really need to hear after the rush of the holiday season: MORE of Christmas. 

Happy New Year

Let me be the first to wish you a happy New Year a little early. What are your plans to celebrate? Hanging out well into the night with friends? Sitting at home watching the ball drop? Pulling the blinds and turning in early like usual? I used to hang out late with friends and usually go to Philadelphia for dinner and fireworks. Now, New Year’s celebration involves an early evening dance party in the kitchen with my husband and girls and normal bedtimes. Though different vibes, both experiences have been great. Although plans change every year, the one thing that stays the same is my time of reflection. As a deeply feeling, introspective person, that time of reflecting over the past year is like a holiday in itself for me. So, here is some of my year in review and what I‘ve learned. You’re welcome.

For starters, the word I would use to describe my experience of 2016 is BIG. This was a big year. It was riddled with experiences that packed a punch. Some were absolutely thrilling while others were devastating. Ah life! You crazy rollercoaster, you. Here are some of the joys and challenges of 2016:

1.    In May we took our first family road trip for Joel’s grandfather’s funeral. We received the    news of his funeral and left on the same day. While my husband was at work, I packed for    all four of us, rented a car, booked a hotel and then we picked him up and drove all night      to Kentucky. Still can’t believe we did that, but we are so glad we did.
2.    Joel started a new job as a second grade bilingual teacher. Huge answer to prayer!           
3.    As a teacher, Joel was off this summer for the first time since we have been married. It was a great time of rest and restoration for our family. We had extended time to slow down, breathe and enjoy.
4.    We took our first ever family vacation to the Poconos with my in-laws. The girls had a blast playing with cousins and looking at deer that would cross in front of the cabin every day. So fun!
5.    I received training to start my doula business. It was so freeing for me to step out after all this time and take a risk to try something new.

Challenges

1.     We have walked through two major health crises for my husband, including a recent 10-day hospital stay in October.
2.     We had to improvise for Alathea’s first birthday celebration because not only were both girls sick but Savanna had pneumonia. It was sad to see my two year old so sick and to feel bad that Alathea didn’t really get a party.
3.     We were not strangers to financial hardship.
4.     After four years at my church, I’m still trying to figure out where I fit and how to use my gifts. Sometimes I feel like a kid on their first day of kindergarten. Haha.

    Of course, this is not a comprehensive list but just some of the highlights. You may be thinking, “That’s nice, but so what?”

This process of writing allows me to take my honesty before the Lord to a new level. It’s one thing to have experienced something wonderful or something hard, but it is another thing to see it on paper. As I relive the “Thank you God!” moments and the “What the heck?!” moments, my heart feels freer than if I allow years and experiences to roll by without slowing down to capture them and assess my heart. I ask myself questions like, “Why was I so happy about that?” or “What was I relying on in that situation that made it extra hard?” As I do that and process the year with fresh eyes, something wonderful always happens; I get new perspective. In retrospect I am able to see God’s work in my life in ways that I was unable to in the moment. God becomes great, glorious, good and gracious again, putting the rest of my world in its proper place. So I move forward looking backward. I don’t want to forget God’s faithfulness, lessons learned or memories made. If God is for me and God is with me, then it will all make a great story someday, and I am looking forward to looking back on it again. 

Some Light Reading

These are some divided times.  If the aftermath of the recent election is any indication, tensions are not looking to ease any time soon. Racial tension, religious strife around the world, fake news, and angry mobs seem to dominate the headlines.  Then there are the heart-breaking images out of Aleppo, the assassination of a Russian ambassador, and a terror attack in Berlin.  

Just about the time when no one could blame you for losing hope, enter Christmas - a beautiful time of peace and celebration among the chaos and darkness of the world in which we live.  And it’s not only a time of joy for Christians.  It seems the rest of the world is ready for some light as well.  Did you happen to catch the worship song that was performed on network television’s Saturday Night Live this week? It wasn’t a joke or the mockery you’d expect from SNL; it was a prayerful, worshipful and powerful performance by the very well-respected musician, Chance the Rapper. It celebrated Jesus and Christmas, and the audience couldn’t get enough.  Or did you happen to see the news article about the Muslim businessman in Iran who erected the largest Christmas tree in Baghdad, to show solidarity with persecuted Christians?  It is easy for us to forget that a light in the darkness is visible to everyone, not just the ones who acknowledge its source.  

Let me say it again.  Christmas is a moment of beauty in a world of chaos.  I’m not necessarily talking about our own personal chaos, like busy schedules around the holidays, but real chaos, like the things I mentioned earlier.  This is a call to look beyond ourselves, our own agendas, our own messes, like looking above the immediate haze and seeing the bigger picture.  The world is ready for light and beauty and peace and rest.  The problem is that it is just as easy for us to bring more darkness, more division, more unrest.  As Christians, we often feel like we are on the defensive, like our liberties are being attacked and we need to fight for every inch.  Here’s the thing - Jesus was born into some pretty hostile territory, with a ruler that wanted him dead and a population that didn’t think it needed him.  But his message was to love your enemies.  The light that we can bring is love.  We can love the homeless, the drug addicts, the morally corrupt, the weak, the vulnerable, people who believe differently than we do, the poor in spirit, the poor in wallet, the broken, the oppressed.  The world is looking for light this Christmas, and they should see it reflecting off of us.

What better way to spend the holiday than truly loving the people around you.  Christmas is a time of beauty in an otherwise dark world, and we should be intentional in celebrating it well.  

Immanuel…Not Just a Christmas Story

I’m snuggled under the covers in an unfamiliar bed. I yawn and roll over to look out the window. It’s very early morning, and I am grateful I was able to finally sleep. I smile as I listen to Kenny’s soft snoring beside me; he, too, needed some good rest. A sharp crack of thunder shakes the somewhat shoddy structure of the motel we are in, and I close my eyes, delighting in its slow rumble across the valley. Rain! Thank you, Good Father. You are merciful.

In my mind, I hear the whisper, “Immanuel.” Yes, that’s it exactly. God is with us!  And He was with us yesterday and the day before that too. We couldn’t be more grateful.

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

It was almost time for the Eagles game on Monday Night Football. Kenny was restlessly reading one of his Louie L’Amour books by the fire, anxious for the game to begin; I was madly writing, trying to finish a blog for my website before settling in to watch Philadelphia battle Green Bay with him. I was still in my pajamas. I had been at my computer all day, loving the relaxation and inspiration I always find at our lovely timeshare in the Great Smoky Mountains. We were scheduled to be here for two whole weeks, a focused writing and regrouping escape from our hectic pace. Unbelievable! I was going to get a lot written! Already I felt refreshed and renewed. The beauty of the hazy mountains covered with the fading colors of fall always works, capturing my soul and filling me with hope and peace, refocusing me on the Creator.

Earlier in the evening, I had peeked out the window of our third-floor log villa. It was smoky outside; it had been all day. Sadly, there were wild fires near a favorite hiking spot, Chimney Tops, up in the beloved National Park. We had received a text notification about them around three in the afternoon, informing us that the management was monitoring the situation. What surprised me, though, as I peered into the hazy twilight, was the steady, bumper-to-bumper stream of glaring red tail lights that snaked down the winding main road of Westgate Resort, spilling out onto and jamming up the shady parkway connecting Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge. Where was everybody going…and why? Kenny thought that possibly folks were needlessly panicking because of the smoke and the hurricane-like winds that had blown in an hour or so earlier. Besides, the Eagles were coming on at 8:30. We went about our business until it was time to flip on the TV for kickoff.

The electricity blinked, shuddered, and failed. Only the weak flicker of my Cheerful Giver candle offered us any light at all; we were blanketed in an eerie blackness. Annoyed that we were going to miss the game, Kenny paced around the cozy living area. Amused, I settled on the couch with my fuzzy Eagle’s blanket. Ten minutes passed and Kenny’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Westgate. We were to evacuate. They had arranged accommodations outside of Gatlinburg. Oh, no. Really?

In the darkness, we stumbled around looking for what to take. I hurriedly dressed and fumbled along the bathroom sink and tub for my toiletries. Thinking this was just a precautionary measure and we would return the next day, we stuffed one change of clothes, our pajamas, and a few undergarments into our smaller carry-on suitcase. Kenny threw our pills and his phone cord into our snack basket, and I picked up my computer and my iPad. We were more puzzled than worried. I glanced out the window to find a deserted parking lot below. Had everyone received this text earlier? Why were we seemingly the only ones still here? I decided to go back into the bedroom and grab what I could when Kenny opened the front door to take a load down and get a flashlight from the car so we could actually see what we were doing.

His exclamation chilled me to the bone. “Oh, MY!” he fairly screamed. “Woody, you’ve got to see this. We’ve got to go NOW!” I rushed to the front porch. The entire mountain in front of us was ablaze. Like molten lava spewing from the boiling earth’s core, the flames and smoldering underbrush seemed to be pouring, persistent and unstoppable, down the hillside toward us. The sky glowed with an unfamiliar and angry orange-red, and we could see more fire exploding on both sides of our resort. The wind was relentless, tossing burning embers and sparks ruthlessly through the drought-parched landscape. We blew out the candle—ironically worried about starting a fire—and fled down the longest three flights of stairs ever constructed. Tossing our meager possessions in the backseat, Kenny kicked the car, a Ford Escape (more irony), into reverse and roared backward out onto the empty driveway.

Smoke smothered the car, and we couldn’t see a foot in front of us. From memory, Kenny plowed through the ash-filled cloud, hoping to be on blacktop, praying he would know when to turn, when to slow. A howling blast of 80 mile-an-hour wind cleared the roadway as we barreled through the abandoned security gate; the resort was a ghost town. Again, we wondered how everyone else had known to leave earlier. We hadn’t spent more than ten minutes getting out of our villa. There wasn’t anybody around. Quite suddenly, another car, then another, sped up behind us, their headlights bouncing and useless in the smoggy night. Okay. Somebody else just got the message. Their presence oddly comforted me. We weren’t alone here.

As we veered around the corner to Westgate’s exit, burning shrubs by the roadside fell across the driveway. Kenny paused only an instant then floored it. We raced through the flames, instantly engulfed in sooty smoke and searing heat. Safely out to the parkway, we could see the road to Gatlinburg was impassable, the trees and wires burning on both sides of the dual roadway. A frightened fireman frantically waved us to the right, down the one way side of the parkway toward Pigeon Forge--going the wrong way.  For several glorious minutes, we sped through the flying embers riding the gusty winds and bursting into flames around us. We plunged over and around blazing branches and whole smoldering trees that had crashed onto the desolate highway. I tried to breathe a sigh of relief, but my lungs were beginning to ache from the pervasive smoke filling the air. Kenny checked the Eagle’s score. I shook my head in disbelief. We prayed. Help us, Dear Father. Oh, we need you.

All at once, screeching around a sharp curve, our hearts sank. Dozens of ash-covered cars cluttered the winding road, their bright red tail lights signaling unwelcome messages of thwarted escape, of fear and of frustration. Why were we all stopped? What should we do now? We looked around to assess our already dismal situation. It was getting worse by the moment. Kenny checked the scores again. It was pretty dismal for the Eagles, too. The fires burning on both sides of us were encroaching with no penalty flags. Cars had moved in behind us, encroaching too; we were literally trapped. The only movement of vehicles over the next several minutes happened when drivers sought to maneuver closer together away from the steady onslaught of flames. Kenny said he felt we were in a crockpot that was very slowly heating up. The air was thick and we were feeling the heat. We prayed some more. We calmed each other with verses, long-known and loved. We sang old hymns. Kenny checked the score. Something about that calmed me too. In spite of our grim situation, the rest of the world was going on as usual. Kenny didn’t seem to be worried. He reached over and held my hand. Maybe things weren’t as desperate as they seemed to me.

Up until then, I think we were operating purely on instinct. We were adrenaline-driven to “flight,” set on automatic pilot. Every action had been rushed. Everything just happened. But sitting still in our little car, stuck in that long line of evacuees, we had time to really think. We had nothing else to do. The longer we sat, the closer the fires came. We could see and hear the violent wind fanning the flames toward us. And the fire marched on, devouring anything in its destructive path. I remembered marveling at how incredibly beautiful it all was. Then we prayed some more, realizing that flames now were within 3-5 feet of our car on both sides. They didn’t seem so lovely to me then.

Tentatively I whispered, “Do you think we should call the kids?” Kenny knew what I was really asking him. He nodded. “Eileen Beth, I don’t think we are going to get out of this.” We dialed Tracy, our oldest child, our only daughter, who lives far away in Idaho. Miraculously, we had cell service. Even more miraculously, I was able to steady my shaking fingers and remember how to make a call. I hadn’t realized up until then how nervous I really was; the casual and calm atmosphere that flooded our car belied the fears raging inside of me. But did they? Yes, there was a war going on, but peace and hope were definitely winning out. We smiled thinking that no matter how this would end, we were together and we would be fine. No, if we were to die, we would be even better than fine; we’d be fantastic! We’d be with JESUS!

It was precious to have this truth to hold on to. It was also precious to talk to Tracy and pretty much say goodbye. We explained our grim situation and asked her to call her two brothers in case we didn’t have a chance. We asked them all to pray for rescue and for rain. We hung up, expressing our deep love for our family. We agreed that God had blessed us incredibly and that we were so thankful for our love and life together. We prayed ourselves. Thank you for Your peace that passes all understanding, Father. Please rescue us; we know You can. Please send rain. But Your will be done. We trust You. We know You are near.

When we looked up, Kenny shook his head incredulously. “The wind has changed!” As we watched, the flames that had been moments away from eagerly lapping at our tires—just stalled. The threatening gusts were now pushing the fire away from us. No, that’s wrong. It wasn’t the gusts that did that. It very clearly was GOD, Lord over the wind. HE pushed the fire away from us.  And, as if that weren’t enough, the smoke cleared enough that we noticed (He showed us!) a pull-off/parking area alongside of us that we had not seen before. We nosed out of our place in line and were able to drive more than 200 feet forward; we were out of immediate danger. The wind continued blocking the advance of the fire. Those cars behind us also moved in to the pull-off in relief. Amazed and grateful, we realized that flames no longer surrounded us. The ridge to our left had already burned and we were buffered by another vehicle; on our right side, fire was raging on the other road, a good distance from us. Peace filled our hearts. God was answering the fervent prayers of our children and grandchildren who, we found out later, had specifically prayed about the wind and for a way of escape to open up. We felt like we were in a protective bubble, the eye of the storm, the hollow of His hand. You’re a good, good Father! You are right here with us, aren’t You?

As we waited, I tried to call our sons, KJ and Greg. I couldn’t get the phone to do what I wanted. I was shaky and my eyes burned. Soon, texts and calls from our kids, words of love and encouragement, prayers for our rescue, began to pour in. How precious! They all knew. I thought about each one with sheer delight and prayed for them to love Jesus. A firefighter appeared, walking toward us from the blocked roadway in front of us. We had noticed the revolving lights from emergency vehicles dancing on the trees far ahead of us and assumed that something had happened up there to trigger the blockade. Kenny rolled down the window, choking in smoke, and asked the young man what was going on. He told us of a car on fire, downed wires, and falling trees. Emergency workers were frantically working to get us all through safely. We watched him walk back to the inferno behind us and tears welled up in our eyes. We couldn’t wait to get out of the fire and save our lives; he was walking bravely into the fire and risking his. Humbling. We prayed for him; we prayed for all of them. True heroes.

And then we were moving. Three firetrucks edged by us on the rocky shoulder. The dam was breached. One by one, with incredible courtesy, the line of cars slid forward, soberly passing the blackened shell of a car that had been pushed aside by the rescue workers so the rest of us could squeeze by. Like a flighty thoroughbred out of the gate, we fairly flew down the parkway, the road empty before us. We marveled how quickly those ahead of us had disappeared into the smoky distance.  But we were not out of the woods yet…literally. At each twist and turn of the exit route, flames leapt out at us from the burning shrubs and trees that lined the road. Fiery branches fell around us.  Smoke slowed us. It was raining embers, ash and soot. Downed trees still burning toppled in front of us and we drove right through the flames. Brush caught under our car, and we were dragging it along our escape path, hoping and praying it wasn’t burning. We were too afraid to stop and see.

Pigeon Forge came into view, and I was giddy with relief and gratitude. We pulled over to remove the debris and call our family. It started to rain!

The fire hadn’t gotten this far, though the hills on the edge of town glowed the orange-red warning of impending doom. We had traveled about 4 miles to get here from Westgate. It had taken us nearly an hour, the longest and most stressful hour I had experienced in a very long time. I think we were both crying.  I know we were rejoicing in our Savior. And so were our kids. We KNOW He rescued us--again. He was with us every single minute. Thank you, Mighty and Merciful Father!

His name is Immanuel, God with us. His Presence is a present we get to enjoy every single day. He’s not just for Christmas. He’s not just for life-threatening wildfires. He’s for right now.

 Aren’t you grateful too?

What Do You Need The Most Today?

Have you ever wondered what is it that you need the most? This is a question we can all answer differently each new day. Sometimes I think what I need the most is comfort, peace, rest, fulfillment, good health, friends, respect, a good laugh, affirmation, space, self-control, freedom, God’s presence, His Word, or even clarity of mind. What would your own list look like?

Recently I was reading the 130th chapter of the book of Psalms. In this Psalm, I was reminded of some key realities we constantly need: God’s attentiveness to us, forgiveness, steadfast love and redemption.

Can you see the importance each one of these have? As a created, fragile being, I need the attentiveness of my Creator who is able to address my deepest concerns and needs. As a broken human being who is prone to choose life outside of God and wrongly impact other people through my choices or responses, I need forgiveness that restores me to God and others. As a dependent creature who looks for significance, acceptance and purpose, I need the steadfast love that only God can offer me. And as a person whose default mode is to be self-focused, self-guided and self-fulfilled, I need a redeemer. All these realities make the more sense when I recognized that my current address is a world that is broken and decaying (Romans 8:21).

Furthermore, how vulnerable do we become when we don’t experience these realities in God? If I relinquish God’s attentiveness to me, His forgiveness, His steadfast love and His redemption, I am quickly prone to look for substitutes that follow my own interpretation, strategies and imaginations.

So for today, may God help us interact with his attentiveness to us; may God help us live honestly before Him and others so we can practice confession and the need to ask for forgiveness; may God help us be rooted in His steadfast love so we can see everything through the unfailing, present and merciful love of God; and may God help us to bring our brokenness to Him and collaborate with His transformative work in our lives.

“I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits,

    and in his word I put my hope.” (Psalm 130:5)

God Loves Joan

Today I had a life-changing experience. I was sitting in the waiting room, waiting for my 9:15am pain management doctor appointment. Sitting all around me were people that have developed painful disorders such as myself. Others have experienced traumatic accidents that have changed their lives, possibly forever. And others unfortunately are not there for health reasons but to get their next drug fix. That is the reality of Pain Management offices.

As I sat there waiting, a woman came in. She was very disfigured, hunched over at about 4 1/2 feet tall, with eyes pointing outward and not straight as to see well. Her hands were very gnarled. Her frame was emaciated, with legs the size of my arms. Her nails were longer and filled with dirt underneath. She was dressed in a nice pink and gray hoodie with a matching pink hair tie. She writhed in pain as she sat down across from me about 10 feet away. You could see the shame she carried with her. People were staring. You could almost here them thinking, “Who is that?” or even, “What is that?”

Watching her from across the room, I began to pray for her. She was carrying a heavy load, several bags and her purse. It was obvious the weight of the bags were increasing her pain levels, but I did not feel led by the Holy Spirit to move toward her. I thought I needed to instruct her about the bags she was carrying in order to decrease her pain. But what gave me the right to invade her world and immediately think I have to teach her something because I know and she doesn’t? Who am I to jump to that conclusion? As I prayed from a distance, God began to let me know ‘who I was called to be’ in this unique situation. The words from the Bible kept going through my mind ‘the least of these,’ ‘the least of these.’ 

Yesterday, Pastor Erik Howard preached a message at Christ Community Church about God’s command for all Christians, those who have placed faith in Jesus, to Go. His points were:

1. Lost people matter to God.

2. We are called to go.

3. We experience Beauty disguised as brokenness, as we go, through demonstration and proclamation.

It’s not just a command for those who are in Christian leadership roles, pastors, teachers, etc. It’s for everyone who follows Jesus. The message resounded in my ears as I sat there: Go, Go, Go to the least of these.

Matthew 25:40 (ESV)

And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’

I asked God, “Am I to approach her? Be Jesus to her, in the best way I know how?” The answer came after praying silently for about 10 minutes. Right here in front of everyone? The Holy Spirit said a resounding YES. GO TO HER. And I went. I sat down and touched her. I then introduced myself as Lois and asked what her name was. She attempted to look over with a painful glance as her neck was in a rigid horizontal position from her body. She smiled and was able to get the word “Joan” out of her mouth. She proceeded to writhe in pain as her neck would arch backward and her back would throw the rest of her body forward. She would slump way down in her chair to get it under control when the spasms would stop.

It was painful for me to watch. I couldn’t help her with that area, but I followed the Holy Spirit’s lead on how He had called me to help her, Joan. She had a name. She was created by God and has a purpose, even in her pain and disfigurement. As I sat there, she then said, “People won’t talk to me. People don’t like me because of what I look like.” Everything came to a halt inside of me. She shared a part of her everyday life experience and what she deals with. What a place of such hurt and rejection. That hit me deeply when she said that. She continued to try and get words out. She was desperate for someone, SOMEONE TO SEE HER, SOMEONE TO SHOW HER LOVE, even if it was only going to be for a matter of minutes on November 28, 2016.

I began to talk with her and ask her about herself. She then asked me, in her broken speech pattern, if I was ready for Christmas. I said I am always ready because it is all about Jesus, and I love celebrating Him. She agreed. She shared with me the diseases she has. She asked what I had, so I shared it with her. As she talked, I was hoping to learn about her situation to see if there was any way our church body, Living Faith Alliance, could support her. I was also hoping her talking with me would be a respite from her pain, even for only a few minutes.

I commented on her nice sweatshirt and matching hair tie. She got a huge smile on her face. She then said her grandmother was a designer and her mother owned a dress shop. I also learned of her own daughter’s drinking problems and that she is now in a halfway house. She has six grandchildren, four boys and two girls, ages 4-13. At that moment, it was like a blanket of shame came over her. She said, “You’re so nice. I’m sorry to dump all this on you.” I was taken back. I assured her that she was actually a blessing to Me, that I really wanted to hear her story and appreciated her telling me. She then continued the difficult action of talking.

She told me she is an agoraphobic, which is: an anxiety disorder characterized by symptoms of anxiety in situations where the person perceives the environment to be unsafe with no easy way to get away. These situations can include open spaces, public transit, shopping malls, or simply being outside the home.

So, the drive from Rio Grande is “murder for her” she said. But she is challenging herself to go to the doctor and Walmart. She also sees a counselor in Rio Grande but lives with an abusive ex-husband and is convinced they need each other. She assured me he doesn’t lay hands on her, but she has lived in the homeless shelter and they are there for her whenever she wants to leave the abuse that occurs where she lives.

I spoke into her life that God loves her and has purposes for her as well. I then asked her if I could pray for her. She held my hand tightly. I held hers tightly as well. I prayed and then she was able to get her eyes to come my way and said, “I want to pray for you.” As she tried to start, she couldn’t get the words out, so we met eyes and said Amen. A minute later, the doctor called her name. It was a powerful experience. I can honestly say that all I was dealing with physically became second. I wanted to make sure Joan got the help she needed. Praise God for her.

Joan may not know it, but God did something in me because of her.

It is vital to learn to hear the Holy Spirit’s prompting. If I moved on my own whim or desire to “help” out somebody with an obvious need, that could have been a traumatic experience for her. As she said, she’s an agoraphobic, terrified to leave her home, which is a result of trauma. So to have a person she doesn’t know come and sit by her and start talking could have driven her back to her trauma. The Spirit prompted and I went. Walk according to the Spirit. The result was beautiful. As Pastor Erik said, “We experience Beauty disguised as brokenness, as we GO.” 

Blessings, Friends!

What's Next?

Not to be maudlin, but at the edge of eighty-five it seems that I find myself considering the aspect of death more often than I did at, say, forty. There are jokes: “I want to die in my sleep like my father, not yelling and screaming like the other people in the car!” There is a country song with lyrics which state that “Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to go now!”  And that one is me, I guess.

It’s not that I’m afraid of dying; what is there to fear, with all the fantastic promises that our Jesus gives us! It’s just that I love, love, love my family and my friends, and, difficult as life can sometimes be, I’m used to it! I like being alive!

A few weeks ago I spent a week in the hospital. I wasn’t really sick sick; I had a touch of pneumonia, but the real thing was that somewhere in my lungs something started to bleed just a tiny bit, and they deemed it advisable to find out where and why. Consensus was that somewhere down there tissue that I had damaged by smoking for 20 years 40 years ago had sprung a leak.

Even with all the tests they never did find out exactly where this was happening,  not that it matters very much. But you can see that this episode might have prompted me to wonder just how I might die, when I do. Maybe sort of like drowning? Peaceful.

But if I could choose, I’d pick my Mom. I remembered my mother, the night she died. She was 102, in her own home, lying on her own bed, and as her breaths came more and more slowly she had this sweet smile on her face, and she was saying, “Oh my! ….. Oh my! …… Oh my! …”  How I would love to know what glorious things she was seeing in those her last moments of life on this earth.

I know that I will be ushered into the presence of the Jesus I love, that He has a home for me there, and that I will be with Him forever! I will have the mind of Christ! What does that mean?! I will again see my Nana and everyone who went ahead of me, even the Old Testament prophets and everyone I’ve read about in the Word! And there will be no evil, not anywhere! I can’t even imagine it, not with this mind! And Time; how will it be different? God created time for us here on earth! And our new bodies! No canes, no oxygen tanks to lug around! And how about His thousand year reign on earth? And the Rapture! So many questions, finally answered! I can’t wait!

Oh, wait a minute, wait a minute! Yes I can wait! I can wait in peace, because I trust so absolutely in the truth that GOD IS IN CHARGE!! Yes, He is! And we are so very, very blessed to have this God who sent His only Son to die to save us!

PRAISE GOD!

Underrated and Underestimated: Ezra

For the past several months, I decided to study the character and history of Nehemiah.  It was here that I encountered the scribe-priest Ezra.  Of Ezra, we read:

 He had prepared his heart to seek the law of the LORD, and to do it, and to teach in Israel  statutes and judgments (Ezra 7:10).

Ezra was considered very mighty in the Scriptures.  His own heart had been gripped by the truth of God's Word.  Writes HA Ironside in his commentary on Ezra:

 The Lord not only prepared Ezra's head, but his heart. His inmost being was brought  under the sway of the truth of God.  His affections were controlled by Scripture (p.44)

The bent of Ezra's life was Scripture.  It permeated his soul.  His heart was preoccupied with the Lord and with what the Lord had to say.  Ezra did not treat truth casually.  His mind and heart took seriously what he was entrusted with.  He made it his responsibility to:

•  Put the Word to heart (SOUL PERMEATED)
•  DO it in the life he lived (LIVED OUT ACTIVELY)
•  Teach and instruct others (EXPLAINED TO MAKE SENSE
•  Entrust #3 to others who are defined by #1 and #2 (REPRODUCE/REPEAT)

Ezra refused to treat the truth casually.  He walked the people through confession and a marked moment of repentance through the profound yet simple reading of the Scriptures.  He read the Word ALOUD to the people (I love this!).  There is a reference in the book of Nehemiah that he read from dawn till noon.  Imagine that?!  I think we fear in our time-driven culture that people would never show up if we read the Word for an hour, let alone 5-6.  But the people's hearts were gripped, and they wept over the Word.  Ezra spoke, repeated, and explained it.  He appointed others to do the same.  It transformed the people and affected the culture.

If curiosity has grabbed your heart and you want to know more, pick up your Bible and read Ezra and Nehemiah.  I think you will be drawn in by the courage of these men and how their hearts resonated with the truth for God's Great Plan for His Chosen People, Israel.  Let your own soul be gripped by these underrated and very underestimated men of God.

More Important Than the Task

We've spent a lot of time hanging out with my siblings and their kids this summer. What that means for my two children is that we've given them a lot of space to run around the house with the 'cousin pack.' They spend less time directly interacting with my husband and me, more time without direct adult leadership. It's definitely affected my youngest daughter, Bethany. I've noticed that she's started to enjoy her new-found independence a little too much.

For example, one delightful little mannerism that she's started implementing recently is a somewhat sneaky defiance. It's very quiet and subtle. I'll say something like, "Bethany, come here. We're going to change you out of your PJ's into your day clothes." Her reply is the quietest, mumble-y-iest, little "No" that I've ever heard. 

And I'll be honest, my gut reaction is just to ignore the quiet "No," and fly right over the defiance because it's so quiet. I'd tend to not even address it and just start stripping off her PJ's and shoving her day clothes onto her. 

And in some respects, that response is somewhat good. Because it's not like I said, "Oh, OK, I get it, Bethany. You don't want to get dressed. OK, you can just go to church in your PJ's." It's great that I don't let her 'rule' in that way. And it's also great that I don't reason with her: "Oh, Bethany, let me tell you all the reasons that you can't wear your PJ's to church. This reason, and this reason, and that reason....now do you understand?? Can you please agree with what Mommy is thinking and come get your day clothes on? Please?" That would be letting her take the role of a parent, and I've come so far in my parenting that that is my not my first response.

But. I'd propose that even though it's great that ultimately she's still doing what I want her to do when I just sweep her along in the wave of what I want by shoving her clothes onto her, I'm still missing so much. 

Because in that moment, the training that her little heart so desperately needs is SO MUCH MORE IMPORTANT than the task of getting her dressed and out the door.

I so often miss, or even ignore, opportunities to train my children to choose the life-giving, safe path of willful obedience because I'm so focused on the task that needs to get done. In this situation of Bethie saying her quiet "No," it's a GREAT opportunity for me to stop what I'm doing, get down at her level, and give her a quick and appropriate consequence for choosing to defy in the smallest of ways. Because even if the defiance is small and quiet, it's still defiance. And when I call the quiet "No" defiance, I don't mean that I should bend her over my knee and give her a spanking or send her to time-out for the rest of the day. No! I'm saying that this moment offers a beautiful opportunity to RESCUE her from the dangers of disobedience and quiet defiance. 

So here's how I can rescue her. I can stop what I'm doing, crouch down to her eye level, and say calmly and gently, and yet firmly, "Bethany, you may not say "No" to Mommy. Please go put your nose up against the wall." She will probably be sad. She will probably not like it. But in that moment, I am rescuing her from the dangers of defiance by 'speaking' in a way that she, as a three-year-old, can understand. It's physical, it's right away, and it's appropriate. I wouldn't necessarily choose that consequence if I was in a room full of people, but if we're at home alone, it's a great way to let her know that her reply was unacceptable. And after she stands at the wall for about 15 seconds, I would call her to come back to me, and I'd say, looking right into her eyes, "Bethie, you cannot say "No" to Mommy when I tell you it's time to take your PJ's off. You must say, "OK, Mommy." Let's practice that now. I'll tell you it's time to take your PJ's off, and you say, "OK, Mommy." Here we go." And then I'd practice it with her. 

It doesn't take long. But it does require me to intentionally stop the flow of what I'm doing and value the training of my daughter more than the task of what I'm doing. 

The little moments of the day are so important. It's the compilation of all the little moments that add up to the big moments and the broad sweeping strokes of what our children learn from us. As a mom, I can so often forget that the little moments are important because I just want to get the tasks done, to make it through the day with as little interruption and bother as possible. But I need to remember that the most important task of all is training my children. And doing that will often involve letting go of the less important tasks, and crouching down in the middle of what I'm doing and teaching my child how to obey.

Parenting a Difficult Child

"Some of the most burdensome moments for a parent are when it is clear to those around you that your child is defiant or difficult. What are other people thinking? What does this say about me as a parent?" 

If the above statement and questions describe what you are experiencing in your parenting, then take a look at this blog from CCEF. 

Nerd Gospel: You are the CSS to my HTML

In computer programming, there is a language called HTML.  You've probably heard of it.  It's the language that nearly every website is built on.  In fact, if you right-click on this page, and go to "view source," much of what you'll see is HTML.  Since the very early days of the internet, HTML has been a staple.  Through most of the 90's, the adolescent years of the internet, those blocky GeoCities sites, Myspace, and AltaVista were all coded in pure HTML. Then something almost magical happened.  The advent of CSS.  It's been called the "Holy Grail" of website programming.  It ushered in the modern era of the internet.  Sites looked astonishingly better, were much easier to navigate, and gained a level of visual engagement that had never been accomplished before.

At the risk of putting half of you to sleep, I tell this anecdote because it parallels my spiritual journey.  CSS does not replace HTML, it breathes life into it.  There was once a language that was adequate, that no one really minded, that was serviceable, but looking back, was just a shell of what it someday would be.  It took something outside of itself to radically alter the landscape and forever change the experience. 

For a long time, I lived with an HTML spiritual reality, where vanilla was the flavor of the month, every month, and the people around me looked like me and functioned like me, and it was nice.  It was serviceable.  But there were holes in the tapestry (sorry to mix metaphors), there were bugs in the code.  I knew that there were unanswered questions that my spiritual life to that point couldn't address.  If God is a God of wonder and might and amazing revelation, why wasn't I experiencing any of that?  

My code had been written, from the moment of my birth, to experience God.  But over time, that experience became more and more limiting.  The politics of faith, the pretense of every question already asked and answered, the scaffold of a culture built to reinforce the spiritual status quo.  All of this left me with a benign faith.  Then, maybe ten years ago, I got my first glimpse of someone doing faith differently.  It was my CSS moment.  It was the first time I realized that God was not limited by the constraints that we put around him, that my boring faith wasn't a result of a boring Jesus, but that truly seeking him could breathe life, CSS-style, into my HTML existence.  I felt free to ask the questions, seek the truth, and shed the falsehoods I'd long been believing.  

I am still the same person I have always been, just like eBay has always been eBay.  But looking at eBay form 1996, it is more than evident that something is different.  CSS changed everything.  In my life, discovering the Jesus I'd never known, has been the CSS to my HTML.

Always Give Something

I watched his quivering lips and I knew the tears weren’t far behind. He sighed and continued with his story, choking out the words, wanting to communicate in spite of his unpredictable emotions. Yep. That’s why I love him so much--crusty and tough on the outside, a soft, squishy marshmallow within. And he’s not embarrassed by it.

It was Week #4 of our Thursday evening Truth for Living Course. We were presenting a video series, Marriage Oneness, by Tim Lundy, a speaker associated with Family Life Today. Good stuff. Yes, that’s a shameless plug. Our incredible Marriage Team had finished serving a delicious pot roast dinner by candlelight and, over homemade pumpkin cheesecake, our twenty precious couples listened attentively to Tim explain the urgency of oneness in handling family finances.

Before referencing much of Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace University material, Tim suggested that nearly all of the Bible’s 2300 plus verses about money could be arranged into four major categories represented simply by four words: live, give, save, and limit. Now I’m not going to rehearse all of Tim’s teaching here mostly because I am hoping you will take the course next fall, but the second word, giving, was about what you would expect. His bullet point read, “Always give something.” The first verses he pointed to were Acts 20:35 and Proverbs 3:9.

“Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, that He Himself said,‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’”                                                                                                                  “Honor the LORD from your wealth and from the first of all your produce.”

Tim was presenting this important biblical theme of giving…and the tithe in Scripture was ten per cent of one’s income. To encourage those who have never considered this mandate, he suggested beginning by giving something regularly. We need to understand that our wise and loving Father tenderly cares for the needs of His lost, poor, sick, orphaned, widowed, and sojourning children here on earth, the advancement of His Kingdom, and the work of His church through the generosity and obedience of other of His children. That’s why tithing to His church is so urgent and important. To emphasize the point, my dear husband, Kenny, wanted to share a personal story I had long ago forgotten. Soon we both were sniffing through grateful tears.

Kenny grew up here in South Jersey, the second of seven children, all born within nine very busy years. His dad had a steady job but also needed to farm, working long hours to feed and care for his family. Money was tight. Very tight.

Kenny’s mom had grown up in a home where tithing was part of her family’s DNA, but that was not the case in his dad’s family. This difference was occasionally the source of contention between his parents. One day, not long after the family had begun to attend a new church (MINE!), Kenny’s father was convicted in a sermon about his practice of not tithing to the church, not giving back a bit of what God had so often and so kindly given to him and to his family. That day, his father, by faith, not knowing how they would ever afford it, began to give a tithe to God.

Within two weeks, my future father-in-law’s boss called him into his office and offered him a 25% increase in pay—an incredible and unexpected raise that more than covered the money he had pledged in his heart to give away! Plus, there was left-over money for his children and his very happy wife. What a blessing!

I just love how God works…how he affirms our steps of faith and encourages our obedience. And seven wide-eyed children got to witness the goodness of their Heavenly Father in response to the faith of their earthly one. More than fifty years later, with a lump in his throat, one of those kids got to tell the story of how his dad learned to give. A quiet roomful of people listened. And heard.  

Now I don’t tell you this story so you think that there is some magical formula here and you rashly begin to give to get. No, this is one man’s story. Your story is not the same. God knows the motivations of each of our hearts.

I relate it again because of its simplicity and its beauty…and because I believe it explains clearly what the Father thinks about our gifts. They please Him. Our faith pleases Him. Our gifts, I think, are a demonstration, a visible representation of that unseen faith growing inside us.  It shows Him we are not trusting in our money; we are trusting in Him alone to take care of us. That’s just what He wants. That’s just what we need.

The multiplied gifts of His people are a huge benefit to others too. Our contributions finance the ministry and outreach of His local church, the advancement of His Kingdom abroad, and the healing and restoration of broken people everywhere. What a glorious plan!

And it all begins with one man or one woman’s decision to trust God and give.

I can only imagine how my Father-in-law’s tithe, combined with other faithful givers, has been used over these many decades. How many street kids have been fed? How many Bibles have been translated or given?  How much medicine has been dispensed in jungle hospitals? How many lives have been transformed by the Gospel? How many churches have been built? It’s amazing to think about. It’s a great story, a story that influenced at least one little boy to become a giver too.

That begs the question. Is somebody watching you?

“Freely you have received; freely give.”  (Matthew 10:8)   

Let The Redeemed Of The Lord Say So

There is no situation in which we may find ourselves that the redeeming work of God cannot reach. And the distance between our current situation and God’s help is our cry for help! 

I have been reading Psalm 107 recently as well as a devotional book alongside that touches on different applications we can draw from this passage. What an encouraging passage this is! 42 verses packed with different life scenarios where people were facing some form of challenge or distress and they experience God’s help in miraculous ways. The last verse wraps it all up with a very personal exhortation.

Are you in trouble? The Lord can help!

Are you isolated, scattered or exiled? The Lord can gather.

Are you wandering with no place to dwell and in distress? The Lord can set you on a straight path and deliver you.

Are you sitting in darkness and in the shadow of death? Are you a prisoner of either? The Lord can burst your bonds apart!

Is your heart rebelling against God or even despising his counsel? The Lord can bow or bend your heart toward him.

Are your sinful ways making you despise wisdom (another way to describe foolishness!)? 

Are your own iniquities increasing your afflictions? 

Is your current situation generating a lot of fears? Is your future looking pretty bleak? Are the waves beyond you? The Lord has power to raise the wind and the waves, and he also has the power to still them and bring you to a safe haven!

Are you facing impossibilities? Or are you being led by God to enter something that, humanly speaking, does not make any sense? The Lord can turn rivers into deserts and vice versa. He can also help people get established and experience the richness of life in places where signs of life are the last thing you see right now.

Oh but wait, as if this was not enough, God does not put up forever with the oppression of his people. The Lord “pours contempt on princes and makes them wander in trackless wastes” when they oppress his people. Furthermore, “He raises up the needy out of affliction and makes their families like flocks.”

So how powerful can God be over our current situations? Very powerful! Consistent with how he works, “He sent out his word and healed them, and delivered them from their destruction.” (20) Words from God become conduits of his power. He pronounces realities into being. That is amazing!

No wonder the recurring response of those who experience the redemption of God in some way is to thank him for his steadfast love and “his wondrous works to the children of man!”

It is no wonder that the Psalmist ends this passage with the most appropriate exhortation:

“Whoever is wise, let him attend to these things; let them consider the steadfast love of the Lord.” I am not sure if only the wise are positioned to attend these things or if anyone who attends to these things becomes wise. Regardless of what the right conclusion is, the exhortation is the same for everyone: consider the steadfast love of God.

How is God showing you his steadfast love today? Or, how do you need his steadfast love in your life?

The distance between your current situation and his help is just a cry for help away!

Learning to Surf the Waves

I spent some time down at the shore this summer. As a kid, we would spend every summer down in Ocean City, NJ. I grew up with a single mom who had a beautician shop connected to our tiny apartment over my grandparents’ house. We didn’t have much money, so I learned to work for everything I had. Mom tells the story of one Christmas she was able to buy me a saddle for my little pony I had worked for. The first words out of my mouth when I saw it under the tree were, “Do I have to pay for it?”.

In order for us to go down to the shore, I was allowed to have a little brown bank out in her beauty shop that her customers would put tips in all year. When the bank got full, I knew how much extra spending money we would have for the shore. It was exciting to count it out. Then, the best part would come. I would eagerly anticipate what I would do once I got down on the boardwalk. I had to get my raft, the heavy blue canvas one with the bright yellow ends. You may know the one! Then onto the 5 and dime to get my ever so popular shark bracelet. The bright white one that was so cool to wear. I was now ready to take on the waves.

As our family would take the walk to the beach from Plymouth Place, between 7th and 8th Street, I would be so excited to tackle the challenging waves. The bigger the better. Oh, I loved it. I honestly cannot remember any instruction of what I could or couldn’t do out there, except swim in front of the lifeguards. My snazzy raft and I, paddling out to the deep where the waves were crashing in. I would sit there on the top my raft feeling good. I was probably 10 or 11 years old, thinking I was one of those surfers. My board was just softer and safer than theirs! LOL

As I would look out onto the horizon; I would spot the waves rolling in, getting bigger and bigger. The bigger they were, the farther I could ride it in was the idea. Picture it, the white caps rolling in, my heart pounding faster and faster with excitement, and then boom, I hit the top of the wave and start sailing into shore. But then bam, I go head over heals onto the ocean floor, floundering and rolling over and over. Scrapes and little bruises would result, but a fun story would emerge. Battle scars! ‘Time to hit the waves again’, I would say! I was determined to learn how to stay on that raft and surf the waves, having a blast rather than hitting the ocean floor, which was hard, rocky, painful and unattractive.

I never thought that those raft experiences as a child would teach me a basic truth about life. It goes something like this: before I got really serious about following Jesus Christ, I repeatedly hit the hard, rocky, painful and unattractive floor of life. I would stay down there for days, weeks, months and even years. Yes, I went to church. Yes, I professed to be a Christian. But I was not seriously following Jesus into every area of life. Following Jesus meant that I had to ask Him about everything. How I should use my finances, where He wanted me to live, what car to buy, what career path to take, what ministries to serve in. You get the idea. It meant I couldn’t call the shots for my life anymore. I would be handing my life over to Him. I actually thought I had done that when I got saved, but with more inspection, I realized I hadn’t. I was still holding on and not surrendering my whole life to Him. I had to make a decision. Am I going to follow what the Bible says or am I going to continue to pick and choose what I consider comfortable and on the rest I would use my veto power? As long as I used my veto power I would always hit the ocean floor. Not because God wanted that. It was simply a consequence of my choices. When I finally got serious about following Jesus, I began a new healing journey.

During that journey I came to understand that I could learn to surf life’s waves and not get so beat up by life’s twists, turns, ups and downs. Let me explain.

The Bible says in John 16:3 “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

It also says this:

1 John 5:4 For everyone who has been born of God overcomes the world. And this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith.

John 16:33 I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

James 1:12 Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.

Isn’t that amazing!! It’s like riding on the top of that white cap wave, riding it in when you know full well that the ocean floor is right below you, with the capability to rough you up for a long time.

I am not saying that in all of life’s circumstances you will be able to ride the wave in. There are things that knock me down, so many times and I roll a bit. But I have to grab those scriptures, choose to believe what they say and know what they mean- not just read them and hope something will happen. I have to intentionally choose to believe what they are saying. It is then, and only then, that I am able to climb back up on the top of my life raft, which is built on the solid rock of Jesus Christ and His promises for me. That is how I continue to surf life’s waves and spend smaller amounts of time on the ocean floor.

Last weekend I was down on the beach in Ocean City watching a whole group of surfers. They were really great. When they wiped out, it was quite something, but they loved it. It was evident on their faces. Joy. That’s what I saw. That’s what I want. To continue to learn how to experience that joy the Bible promises, as we are able to grasp.

Revelation 12:11 And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives unto the death. Amen

Blessings Friends,

Loi

The Gospel That Can Guide Parenting And Change A Family

Recently I came across the newest book Paul Tripp released on parenting (Parenting: The 14 Gospel Principles That Can Radically Change Your Family). I really would like to recommend this book. Paul Tripp has brought into one place many of his key teachings regarding parenting. This time, he is approaching it from the point of view of 14 gospel principles that can, as Tripp affirms, "radically change your family". Click here to read more about this sound and helpful resource designed for those who are parenting, work with children or have a chance to influence children. A free excerpt from the book can be obtained by visiting the link. For a Kindle version click here.

Sincerely,

Diego Cuartas