I'm a Human Doing. Thoughts on Prayer.

(long one. no apologies.)

If you've come across me here before or know me in "real" life...you'll know my battle with being a performance-oriented do-er. It's one thing to struggle with that in the day-to-day life, but what about when it permeates my spiritual walk, too? God and I have had some talks about this need to mine to produce and be affirmed...constantly.

On one particular occassion a few years back, I was scurrying around preparing for a youth service at the church where I worked. I had done a good job on this night of delegating to volunteers--so good a job, in fact, that I worked myself right into having not a task to accomplish as the service began. What an odd feeling it was. Just the freedom to BE in the service and not worry about what needed to happen next. But my reaction to this freedom was the problem. The music began, and I started churning about what I might have forgotten, what else could be done...when God hit me upside the head with a thought just as clear as day. "Be a worshipper, Shelley." He didn't want me to engage with anything but HIM at that moment.

I tend to find this is the case. We want to know what we can do FOR Him, BECAUSE OF Him, or IN HIS NAME...instead of just being near to Him and letting Him move us to doing. The "being" needs to come well before the "doing."

So, our church had a week of 24/7 prayer last week. We all signed up for an hour-long slot and were asked to go to a particular prayer center in downtown Charlotte. Can do. Sign me up! I do very well with clear expectations. Jerod and I signed up for an hour each, in back-to-back time slots between 8 - 10 pm. We're there.

I expected a cold, dark room with a pillow...maybe a candle...and just some quiet for the Lord to reveal all His great and wonderful plans to me. I expected maybe to sing Hallelujah while doing arms gestures the moment I walked in the door. Instant epiphanies! I don't know what all I expected...but those were darn near close.

As we entered the space, we were greeted by a familiar couple coming off a two-three hour stint in the center. They explained a bit of what was there, and left us to it. There were stations, information, cozy chairs...there was dim lighting, beautiful decor...a shabby-chic, thrift-store, well-worn secret spot feeling...like "The Secret Garden," but with candles and ottomans instead of flowers. There were cubbies and DVD's, paints, paper, and Bibles, post it notes to write down secrets and names and prayer requests...and then there was me. Very overwhelmed. Here I expected to have a pillow and Jesus...and here is all this stuff...TO DO!!!!! I didn't know whether to cry or cheer. "But I didn't come here to DO!" I thought. "I came here to PRAY!"

I immediately set about going through the cubbies, putting on headphones for DVD's on various topics, such as discipleship, forgiveness, etc. I found myself at odds with the whole experience at first. I didn't come to listen to a person! I came to listen to GOD!!!! These quotes and photos and books and videos are all very cool, but they make me think about how I could re-create such a thing...that's a great font...where did they find that picture?...I love this chair...it was all becoming a project for me somehow.

God at this point is probably just chuckling at my denseness.

After being somewhat annoyed and trying to figure out how to open myself up to this prayer process, I finally ended up in a corner cubby. Most of what I remember about it is that the one word, "SUBMIT" was taped to the wall there. And there was a journal, filled with handwritten prayers/thoughts/quotes/verses and magazine clippings...like someone had emptied thoughts from his/her creative brain onto paper and gathered them all in a book. "What the heck...let's look at that. I'm not getting much else out of this yet..."

And, forty minutes into my first hour...I finally realized I had yet to PRAY (at the prayer center...I know!). As I pored through the journal, the Lord FINALLY was able to get through to me. The first thing that jumped off the page: "How can you lead others by still waters when you are in perpetual motion?" OK. Time to get serious. I continued to read, prayerfully now...asking the Lord to speak. Of course He did. He always will when we get still and quiet our brains and bodies and ask Him to.

Thankfully, Jerod and I chose to combine our hour slots and be in the space at the same time...so I had another hour and some change to get myself in the right frame of mind. Prayer can be so difficult for do-ers because it insists on your BEING first. You can't switch the two. You can't come into His presence with a to-do list and expect to get anything DONE. You have to come to him empty-handed. He does the work. That's why He says "my yoke is easy and my burden is light." He does the heavy lifting if we let Him!!! And that, my friends, is why RESTING in HIM and PRAYING is the best doing we can do. Start there, and the other stuff will make more sense. What He asks us to do will be more effective and less frustrating and just less...busy.

So, I've been singing this song lately...especially at the beginning of my prayer time:

Breathe in Your presence...Breathe out my prayers

A Holy Reunion

You whisper in my ear.

I long to see Your face,

I long to hear Your voice,

Wrap me in Your presence, Oh Lord.

Let it Rain!

sidebar: I seem to be posting a lot with audio-visual effects. If you can play this, please do. It makes a nice accompaniment to the post. If you really want the full effect of the blog today, sing along.

I know first-hand the need for rain. We have been in exceptional drought conditions for over a year now in South Carolina. Silly as it sounds, I had to watch my sweet little plants wither up to nothing because we felt the need to conserve so we could do things like brush our teeth and clothes. I remember watching the red clay earth dry up and crack open last summer...then, when we had a 10-minute flash shower after months of nearly nothing, I remember running outside and doing a rain-jig on the front lawn (this is not a metaphor...I literally was doing a jig! The Tall One didn't know whether to laugh or commit me.). I remember another day that some threatening clouds came overhead, looking as if they might release the needed water onto our thirsty ground. I sang this song at the top of my lungs as I stood in my doorway, hopeful and expecting.

And my soul has been singing this song for months, years, maybe my whole life. And the Lord is faithful to answer the cry. And recently, I think, He has loaded the rain clouds with His truth and grace and power. But I wasn't expecting to get such a flood. There's nothing worse sometimes than being caught in a rainstorm unprepared...you just have to resign yourself to complete drenching. Typically, you resist by trying to find something just to cover your head...an overhang...a newspaper...you try to protect your cell phone...etc. But even if you're not expecting it and it seems a pain at first, you give in. Let the mighty truths of God come crashing to earth, splashing all around you. The big ideas of His grace falling all around, soaking you from stem to stern. You know that it will wash off your make-up and ruin your hair...but that's quite the point. Instead of hiding from the rain of God, we should run out into it, embracing all the possibilities that it brings for growth and its life-giving power...it will heal the dry cracks in our soul...we focus on little more than the rain itself...washing away the stilted air and filth that has built up in the drought. And the beautiful thing for a crier like me...no one even notices your tears in the rain! And then, after the rain...abundance!

Isaiah 30:23-26 (The Message)

God will provide rain for the seeds you sow. The grain that grows will be abundant. Your cattle will range far and wide. Oblivious to war and earthquake, the oxen and donkeys you use for hauling and plowing will be fed well near running brooks that flow freely from mountains and hills. Better yet, on the Day God heals his people of the wounds and bruises from the time of punishment, moonlight will flare into sunlight, and sunlight, like a whole week of sunshine at once, will flood the land.

LET IT RAIN!!!!!!!!

You consume me...

...moving through me. Like a burning flame running through my veins...click to listen and see a favorite song of old.

I started this thought in an email to a friend today...and liked it well enough to elaborate...

Oh, to be able to dance upon His clouds of grace without fear of falling! Instead, we trudge in meadows of mud, finding delight in what we can see on the ground...getting bogged down more often than not. We admire some nice flower or a moment of sunshine as a ray kisses our face. Content with a fleeting moment of beauty in an otherwise sloggy hike. Imagine the freedom of dancing on clouds of grace...lighter than air! Which one would you like to describe your spiritual "walk?" Will we rest in his grace and his ability to maneuver us, or will be be content to have small moments of grace and continue our striving with heavy feet? I want to be consumed by His grace, close to His face. Close enough to know when He turns to the right or left. To feel His breath. To know that however He consumes me, it will be for my good. But if He does not consume me, I am destined to the misery of the in-between.

Report on the report and thoughts on community

Well, I must say everyone pulled through with the Annual Report...albeit at the last minute. But, at the last minute is far better than AFTER the last minute. :) Go team!! I think we were finally hitting our stride as a group, despite the fact that all have very different styles. It was good to be stretched to design in a way that's different from your natural inclinations. It was good to have to come to a middle ground, so to speak, and blend our ideas. It was really entertaining to watch as three very opinionated people and two "just tell me what you want" people tried to decide on themes, colors, concepts, etc. I was desperate to sit back and let it roll. But you can only fight your nature so much.
It's interesting to watch "community" dynamics. Wherever that community may happen--in a class, at a job, on a committee, or at church. It is in all of our natures to compare and compete to some degree. You may never say it, but often you think "My idea was better than his..." or "So-and-so isn't working as hard on this as I am..." What I have to remind myself: we are all learning. We all have some valuable ideas. We all have contributions. Even the people that I may think are in left field...we should all be open to listening and learning from those whom we think have nothing to teach. Competition among a community is a killer. It kills ideas and creativity. It creates drama. It is the face of selfish ambition. Instead, we should find a place of encouragement and inspiration...a healthy competition to do one's personal best while making the rest of the group look good at the same time. Selfless ambition. Lofty goal. Hard to attain. Let's try, shall we?

What did I do to deserve group projects?

...just a whine about another group project...this time, an Annual Report. If I don't die of boredom first, I might explode from the sheer torturous plight of working with people who don't even check their email and don't do their work.

Whine over. I will not detail the agony on the blog. I might show you some of the design work though. :)


Next topic: Tuesday Furniture Funny

We are searching high and low for a petite accent chair for a particular place in the living room. Mostly because it's a smallish room, and all of our furniture is B-I-G. We have a few finalists, but no clear winners yet. So, just a funny moment when Jerod entered a local furniture store yesterday (without me).

"Hi, may I help you?" furniture store lady asked.
"Yes, I'm looking for a small chair." Jerod replied.
Craning her neck to see the full 6'11" frame, she replied, astonished..."YOU'RE looking for a SMALL chair????"

Good times.

Group Project, Eye Twitch, other Fun

I know I should quit writing about this group project at some point...but my eye is still twitching from the sheer agony of it all! We submitted it last night. I must say, one of the guys really pulled out some good stuff at the last minute. I was mucho impressed. I was caught in an epic struggle to lead this group. They appointed me leader; I did not volunteer. Probably because they knew I was the type of person to get an eye twitch if things weren't going well! One lady in the group just refused to be led. She did her own thing without regard to the group...which is not so good when the assignment is come up with an ad campaign. All parts need to look very similar to one another. Wild cards are not in play, kids!!

I'll share the idea with you, as I was proud of what we ended up with. The premise was a product of the entire group, with about 80% of the art direction at my discretion--fonts, colors, illustrations, etc. Our basic idea was to create an environmental awareness campaign for the fictional "National Environmental Council" with a series of ads. We based it on the "This Little Piggy" nursery rhyme and showed our pig poster boy doing all kinds of horrible environmentally-unsound things. The slogan was then, "Don't be a pig."

Here is an ad and a book cover that I created, and a billboard idea from another team member. The book would be used in public schools and/or sold at retail stores. We also created reuseable shopping bags, recycle bins, and apparel whose proceeds would help the NEC:

Whew! Glad that's over!

Otis is ALIVE!

I blogged too soon, dear friends. The fish named Otis is back! He must have gotten caught in something in the pond and wiggled free, as he showed up for breakfast on Monday morning. Jerod has been tending to him in a "hospital" tank...I know...it's a fish. But he seems happy and healthy. It's weird how one can become so attached to a little living creature like a fish.

Group project presentation is tonight. I am not hopeful. My eye is twitching, and I've been having stress dreams about having to re-design everyone's work. Control-freak? Me? My teacher called me "Type-A" on Tuesday. TYPE A? Really? I know I'm a driven, task-oriented person, but I don't think I'm particularly impatient or a stress junkie. I have really worked on being more in the moment with PEOPLE rather than focusing all of my attention on tasks to do. I am a perfectionist about stuff I produce...so...compared to people in the class who don't BEGIN working on their designs until the day they are due...I guess I would come across as Type A. However, I did just take a test online: "Are you a Type A?" and tested in the middle closer to Type B (laid back, etc.). Is there anything wrong with wanting things to be right and well-executed? As long as people aren't being well-executed, I suppose...

Randoms

1. Group project status: of course, I'm the only one who showed up with what I was supposed to on Thursday. So, we went with my idea since it was the ONLY IDEA THAT CAME TO CLASS! Still, our overall theme is good. I'm interested to see what everyone else contributes. I want to believe in group projects, I do!

2. I am convinced that Nacho Cheese Doritos have an addictive agent in the cheesy powder. Studies should be done. I will volunteer for the study.

3. We had a fish go missing from our wee pond despite the faux heron that is supposed to ward off evil fishing-birds. His name was Otis, and he was an Oranda. R.I.P. Otis. We loved you.









4. I love my small group at church. Fairly random comment, but we are learning so much from each other and I enjoy their company. Yay! Small group!

5. I have to go now and make some sandwiches for my ice cream social tonight. :) I scream, you scream, we all scream for ICE CREAM!!!

Declaration of In(ter)dependence and Group Projects

I began a blog last week with the lofty goal of re-writing the Declaration of Independence as a declaration of INTERdependence within the kingdom of God. Being the Fourth of July week, I thought it appropriate. But I didn't get very far...

When in the course of human events it becomes necessary to seek out spiritual bonds that are greater than those of any government and to assume among the powers of heaven the station which requires those of the Kingdom of God to mutually submit to one another. The Laws of God and the Laws of the Earth are distinctly separate entities, which those of the Faith should recognize, despite causes that would compel us to retreat and separate from one another; we should run toward one another with the intent to declare the sins and missteps that cause separation from God.


We hold these truths to be self-evident through careful reading of the Scriptures. That all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are the right to take up a cross and deny their lives, liberty within the Law of God, and the pursuit of a Higher calling despite the unhappiness it can bring in the temporary life. To secure these rights, we might look to government, but it is a deeply flawed system that works on laws contrary to those of the Kingdom of God. We shall be both citizens of the state and of the Kingdom, working toward the greater good for both and for our fellow men.

That's all I wrote.
I revive it because this week I went to class, and my teacher said two words that make my blood run cold. "GROUP PROJECT." I'm sorry, what? Do you mean that I have to work with these people? People who don't turn things in on time and use ugly fonts? Really?
That has ALWAYS been my reaction to group projects. Prideful? Yes. Snotty? Yes. Justifiable? Maybe. Or maybe not. The Lord has been desperate to get me to understand interdependence. He keeps bringing me back around to it. There is no escaping the community aspect of a Christian walk. To summarize in short order...you can't be a Christian unless you have people around you to show you how to walk and to whom you practice extending the grace of God. It's all a group project. (excuse me as I break out into hives)

So, I'm waving the flag of interdependence. Even in my class project. I've opened myself up to the process. I will listen, extend grace, pray for inspiration and compassion, lay down my pride and selfish ambition. Lay down my right to perfection. Overlook imperfections in others. Give up my "right" to be offended. Watch out for my fellow students, both in the word and in the class. Give guidance when needed. Accept guidance when I need it. And on and on.

Surprisingly, I shut my mouth in class. Our group came up with a darn fine idea for an ad campaign. I'm going to let it play out with these ideas in mind, and see what beauty can come from allowing the Lord to be Lord in my heart and my hands and my mouth. I don't like it. But I think it works.

Oh My Shins!

The sun is setting over the palm trees, and we are listening to the sounds of the Starship Enterprise fighting off a Borg attack in the hotel room. Possible correction: Jerod is engaged in the Borg attack, while I am happily keeping company with the laptop.

Sometimes travel-logs can be tedious, the online version of looking at someone's vacation slides. But then, you are not trapped in my dark living room looking at pictures of me in front of every cool thing I experienced and you did not...so get your click on if you find me uninteresting. :)

Several things I've learned during my stay in Orlando. I love ordered lists, even when there is no need for ordering, so I shall order.

Number One: If I were dropped on a tropical island by an airplane crash (hmmm...might I be thinking of my favorite show?)...the first thing I would think about, and probably continue to think about for days on end would be the lack of air-conditioning. Next to antibiotics, I believe air-conditioning to be the greatest invention of the 20th century. Go Universal for having almost all of your lines in the glorious coolant-relieved air.
Number Two: I must have every square inch of exposed skin slathered in copious amounts of sunscreen before venturing outdoors. I am the same color as a light bulb. I did a good job on this trip. I have, in the past, forgotten sunscreen on various individual parts of my body. You'd be surprised what five hours on the beach will do to the tender skin behind your knees when they are fried beyond recognition. Simple walking becomes difficult. I succeeded in my slathering! Hurrah!
Number Three: People will wear anything, everything, and not enough when they are on vacation. I saw a pregnant woman (like 8 mos. preggie) in a bikini in the park. Um, lady...every ride advises you NOT to ride...why are you here? And why are you wearing a bikini when you're not swimming? Flip flops were also in abundance. Podiatrists are going to have a field day in about ten years. Yes, I am getting old. And I have been to the podiatrist. He fixed up my Fred-Flintstone-flat-feet. Podiatry would be a good field to get into based on what I saw people walking around in. Flat, dollar store flip flops. That's my version of hell.
Number Four: English people are taking over Orlando. Rightfully so, since the dollar is meager compared to the mighty pound. They feel like they're paying halvsies for everything. I'm so silly. I still like to stand near them in line and hear them talk. Humidity was a common theme of discussion.
Number Five: Flat irons for the hair are irrelevant here. I found waves I didn't know I could grow.
Number Six: After hours of walking around in the heat and waiting in lines, the bed sucked me under as if in coma state for several hours of bona fide naptastic awesome rest. There was no fighting the coma. You had to surrender.
Number Seven: We are intrigued by the climate here. As avid plant-lovers, we toured a botanical garden (great respite from the overload of the noisy parks). What we found there were plants that could eat humans if they so chose. (Hello, THE HAPPENING?) The winters must be so mild and the climate semi-tropical...so things grow to the size of...well, me! There was a peace lily (for my non-plant people...those are the ubiquitous green houseplants that shoot up a white lily-like flower) that was taller than I am!! In the ground. Cactuses and houseplants, all growing to about 10x the size we normally see. Bizarre and scary.
(annoying Star Trek music in the background...Has Jean-Luc Picard been assimilated by the Borg? What to do?)
Number Eight: I love roller coasters. There's no way around it. Poor Tall One cannot ride them due to equilibrium issues and impending motion sickness. I want to have a roller coaster in my backyard. How fabulous. I would ride it every day before my coffee.
I have no more numbers. The post title just comes from the recurring theme of our conversation every time we stood up or walked for the first four days. OH MY SHINS! Concrete can be mean and play dirty.
Vacation is fabulous. We did not get to Sea World this time, but have had a BLAST regardless. I will meet Shamu one day!! Hurrah. And tomorrow, back to the real world...class tomorrow night and then back to work. Ahhhh...vacay forever.

Sunny Orlando...I'm coming!

I'm leaving...on a jet plane...

Tomorrow...Tomorrow...I love ya...tomorrow...You're only a daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay aaaaaaaa-waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!



It's generally good to start off a post with song, isn't it? Just because you can't hear it, doesn't mean I'm not singing loud enough.



Off to sunny and hot Orlando tomorrow for some R & R (I plan to nap liberally and read liberally). What a blessing to be able to get away, enjoy some entertainment, soak up precious time with the Tall One, and eat vacation foods.



I'll be back armed with photos, a sunburned scalp (seriously...as if anything could be whiter than my face, I think my scalp is glow-in-the-dark white), and sore feet. Perhaps there will be adventures to share. In the midst of days when I rush around to finish projects for school or work, I am thankful to have some days when my decisions center around riding a ride, eating a burger or chicken?, and how long can I afford to nap in the middle of the day. Luxurious frivolities. I really hope to see Shamu and get his autograph. You have no idea what a hero he is to me.

Ain't Happening

SPOILER ALERT. If you intend to see "The Happening" by M. Night Shymalan and do not want any spoilers...LEAVE NOW. You have been warned.

This is the single-worst movie I've ever seen. Any movie that makes you laugh at people committing suicide in mass should earn that title. We did, however, come up with some theories as to why it is soooooo bad:
1. It's all a joke. Spoof for Friday the 13th. M. Night having some fun at our expense and the expense of the production company, because this one will TANK in ticket sales.
2. M Night is Al Gore's lover. The alternate title for this movie is "An Inconvenient Truth: Revenge of the Fig Leaves"
3. M Night made a comedy without a laugh track just to see what it would do to people.
4. He realized during the filming that he had no actual story, so he added in as many creative suicide scenes as he could fit into the film, just for kicks and good times.
5. M Night just wanted to make a rated R film, so he and his drinking buddies played a game one night..."1000 ways to Snuff out your Life"
6. This movie is M Night's cry for help. Friends are planning an intervention over the weekend.
7. M Night is tired of the pressure to be the next Spielberg, and this film is an homage to his own career suicide. He just wants to be left in peace, people!
8. The crucial scene was cut from our copy of the movie. Don't go to the Pineville theatre. They have the wrong copy!
9. We should have been given a secret serum to drink that would have made this movie make some sense. We declined to drink the thick flourescent drink they were handing out at the door. Our bad.
10. M Night's houseplants have been ganging up on him in the middle of the night...and by houseplants, I mean WEED. The weed is talking to the M Night, y'all.

Worst. Movie. Ever.
The lines were delivered with all the panache of a beige throw pillow. None of the dialogue was believeable...I mean, not even REMOTELY. Most of our packed theatre was just laughing by the end. The only scary part was at the home of Mrs. Jones (dang, another bad "Jones" movie this month...what up Joneses?). The doll and the woman were far scarier than the is-it-the-plants? story line and the not-at-all-scary breezes. And, did anyone notice the row of houseplants in the window at the end? I would not be harboring anything with chlorophyll in my home...I am sorely disappointed in this once-Genius who seems to be walking a fine line between amazing and skydiving with no parachute. Splat.

Landsford Canal trip, Memorial Day

Spider Lilies are in bloom! They are wondrous to behold! Go behold them!

A few thoughts...

Sometimes I wait to write a blog until I am bursting with ideas. And sometimes I start out with no real idea at all. Lucky for you...here I am without an idea. But I don't like to neglect the blog, as it's like a friend to me now.
We made our annual trek to see the Spider Lilies in the Catawba River. (see photos) I'm not sure why we have to go see them every year. It's some reassurance that man has not wiped yet another species off the planet. These lilies only grow in Alabama, Georgia, and South Carolina because their habitats have been decimated everywhere else. And we like to hike...and Jerod REALLY likes to see snakes in the wild. Last year, on our Memorial Day trek, we spotted no less than seven snakes, and a new type that Jerod did not know about. His eyes lit up like it was Christmas at the curious orange-bellied slithering thing. I will never understand this part of him. The little boy with a pocket-full of frogs lives on. No snakes this year, save one curled up far away in a tree. I tend to beep when I see a snake in the wild. Yes, I am at a complete loss for words, and just stand still pointing and beeping. Or once, I ran up the hill so fast, Jerod just saw my dust cloud go by. I have no use for the snake family.
Jerod has just three days left of school (pause for wild cheering from the stands)!!! I love it when he's home for summer. The dishes are magically done when I come home, the yard is all spruced up, and I get daily reports on what all he has accomplished. He accomplishes things I did not know needing doing such as trimming the middle branches of the maple tree and rigging up a solar light for the pond. He is his own "honey-do" list. No complaints here. If I could get a job that paid crazy amounts of money, I would let him stay home all day and whack away at a list.
Near the top of my summer list:
Do something about my junk room, I mean office. I am ashamed at my own ability to close a door and pretend that the pile of junk doesn't exist. I think the magazines have babies in there when we're not looking. Also on the summer list would be reading "Song of Solomon" by Toni Morrison. But I'll have to find it in the junk room first. "I know you're in there!!" I tell it sometimes, "I'm going to read you if I ever find you." I'm truly afraid that my small dog will go in and never come back out.
LOST is finally over for the year. I will miss my Lost friends (you know, the ones who live in the TV!). I cried at parts of the show as I squeezed the skin off Jerod's knobby knee. He didn't seem to mind. I don't understand how I'm going to make it until January for new episodes.
At least I'll have "Pushing Daisies..." It's renewed for Fall, and one of my favorite new shows. Quirky, mirthful, and slightly twisted...what more does one need in her entertainment? Give it look-see in September. Be a fan.
I am a fan of being well-rested. I think I'll put my tired bones to bed now that I've said everything on my mind worth publishing ("THIS is what was worth publishing??" you ask). Yes, it's all I have. Toodle-lee-do.

Be Quiet.

We are formally finished with our church covenant. I mentioned it back in January...(I'll pause while you search the archives...)
Anywho...part of our covenant time was to include fasting one day a week for a 24-hour period. I take medication every day for blood sugar control, so the idea of fasting food wasn't working for me--in the sense that if I let my blood sugar drop, I become very nauseated, sweaty, cold--to the point that I can barely eat if I try to. I tried fasting food a few years ago, and by about 4 pm, I truly thought someone was going to have to take me to the hospital. I say all of that to say...I wanted to participate. I did not want to just dismiss the notion all together! The point was to do a physical/food fast. What to do?
I deemed it ok to do a noise/media fast instead. It worked toward the same end of making space and time for God. It shut out what I often use as a replacement for God-time. Every Sunday night the TV/stereo would go off at 7 pm. Most of these evenings I was able to spend a chunk of time reading, writing, listening, talking, etc. On Monday, even though the work day included some natural noise, there was no internet radio or itunes going in the background...
I started looking back at my journal entries from the past few months (I write SOME things you don't get to see!), I realized that the Lord had spoken very clearly...when I allowed Him to. Know what He said?
Be Still.
Profound, huh?
That was the crux of it. Each entry seemed to have that idea as a theme in some way. Yes, I know He has already said that in Psalm 46:10, "Be still and know that I am God." Of all the verses in the Bible, I do have that one hanging on a wall in my house.
But what does it mean to "be still?"
The Lord has been desperately trying to teach me how to REST...in HIM. The kind of rest that has nothing to do with lying on a beach all day reading a book, and "getting away from it all." But active resting that comes from submitting my plans to Him, trusting Him to take care of me and mine, and allowing Him to oversee my spiritual progress. The kind of rest that comes from laying down my need to plan every little thing, to run around trying to take care of everything, and trying to be a good Christian by my own sheer will. He promises to GIVE US REST (note He does not offer up a cruise to the Bahamas--the idea seems to be that He will teach us how to live lives of rest).
I was so struck by how THE MESSAGE put this verse from Matthew 11:28-30:
"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."

My resting not only helps me RECOGNIZE that He's God, it allows me to ACKNOWLEDGE that He is God. Many of us believe that God exists, but so many of us try to do His job by steering our own lives and activities. We essentially strip Him of His omnipotence when we fill our days with mindless activity and banter that leaves no room for Him to BE (fill in the blank) for us. We have so much to say that we squeeze Him out of our conversations. We have so many things on the to do list that we shut Him out of even our errands. We have to watch this or that, and are content to let the TV tell us what to think or do or what to buy or what is cool.
If I had any of this down pat, I wouldn't be writing such a painfully long blog entry about it. He has been working on me for five months, and I still struggle to let Him BE.

Goodbye, Dottie Rambo

Just last night, I was reminiscing about my childhood plays and musicals to Jerod. I grew up on small stages, singing and trying to act...one of my favorite of these church musicals was "Down by the Creek Bank."
Sadly, I read online this morning that the composer of this musical and 2500 other gospel songs that comprise the soundtrack of my childhood passed away yesterday. Dottie Rambo was 74. Her myspace page had not been updated as of this morning, but here is a link.

http://www.myspace.com/dottierambo

She wrote the Sandi Patty favorite "We Shall Behold Him." And the song from "The Preacher's Wife," "I Go to the Rock." I was privileged to see her live on several occasions as a child.
Certainly, she was not well-known outside of our own Pentecostal/music circles, but she was a prolific writer who had in recent years overcome much personal tragedy with her marriage and her health. I have sung many of her songs...

Below is the news story and some details about her life.

The Nitty Gritty Gospel

As if I could boil it down to bullet points...but here's a messy list of things rolling around in my head...Jesus was not joking when He laid out his church plan.

What I have learned in the last few weeks or have had reiterated to my soul:

1. My life is not my own. I signed up for the Jesus Journey, and I meant it. He has my passport, He's my travel agent, and He guides my steps.
2. My life belongs to others in my local church. My actions (or lack thereof) affect them. They have the right and responsibility to call me out when I take control of my Jesus Journey. (see Matt. 18)
3. I have to practice and accept unlimited forgiveness TO others and FROM God. I cannot hold on to anything like bitterness that will weigh me down as I travel. I have to trust my community to help me, to forgive me, and to pray for me. I have to forgive myself as I allow Jesus to forgive me, too.
4. I don't like all of this community stuff. It's so much easier to be fake, allow people to think I have it all together, and never ask for help. It's easier to breeze through each day without thinking of anyone but myself and "mine." It's easier to lift up my own needs.
5. I have to learn to embrace community. It is a discipline just like praying, reading, and worshipping. It will not come naturally to this self-reliant person. It runs contrary to the independent nationalism that has been bred in me. It runs against the "put on a smiling face" Christianity that I let myself get caught up in. "Never let them see you sweat." "Never let them see you fall." "Never let your guard down." Fight this propensity at all costs!!!!
6. "We cannot be saved apart from the church." I think that being saved is a daily process by which we are formed into Jesus' image. It unfolds like a great novel, with twists and turns and surprises and lulls and OTHER CHARACTERS who serve as protagonists and sometimes antagonists...but the Author weaves it all together magically. Salvation is not a moment in time. Salvation spreads out over our lives until we allow it to permeate our every action.
7. We learn about God's character by seeing it and practicing it. We learn about the depth of God's forgiveness when we realize our own need for forgiveness and then practice extending that grace. We learn about compassion when we receive it from another's hand. We can only learn to really love by loving and being loved...by PEOPLE. Our measly extensions of God's character are his character on display. None of this can really happen in isolation.
8. God can really work on us when we give up selfish ambition. When our way is not the only way...when our path is at His discretion. When we allow our dreams to conform to a God-shaped destiny. When we pray, "Not my will, but thy will be done," just as Jesus did when facing his darkest moment.
9. Jesus knows how deep and twisted we are, and longs for us to be free from prisons we've built for ourselves. Forgiveness is liberating. Extending undeserved mercy is empowering. Seeking the "kingdom" will bring blessings that we don't even know how to ask for. We turned "What would Jesus do?" into a bracelet and a fad...but the question remains...and the answer is usually..."the opposite of my first inclination!"
10. The Gospel has nothing to do with ceasing to sin or abating sinful practices. (shock and awe...I hear it rustling through your mind!) It has nothing to do with a scorecard that you keep in your pocket to compare yourselves to others as more or less sinful than they are. It is a powerful, life-changing walk that moves you to meditate and follow the Words of Christ and to imitate the character of God. In doing so, you find yourself less and less prone to OOPS! and more prone toward grace and compassion and...community.
Blast it!!! Community may be the hardest discipline of all. It leaves no room for pretense, no allowance for acting, but it's at the heart of a Gospel. "Whoever loves his brother lives in the light, and there is nothing in him to him stumble." 1 John 2:10
He is "OUR Father, who art in Heaven..." Not "MY Father..." Dang. I think it's easier to think of Him as all MINE in my little corner of my little world.

Goodbye April, Hello MAY

...But more on the title later...
Life is a lot like whitewater rafting. Indulge me a moment, even if you've never been. I have been numerous times. Most of the rafting adventures I've taken have been wholly pleasant...sky overhead, open water before, trees, birds, some rapids to excite and break up the monotony. Pure relaxation with a wee bit of adrenaline. THE BEST. But this month in life has been a lot like a particularly scary trip I took a few years back on the New River in West Virginia.
I knew at the beginning of the trip that it was not going to turn out well. Everyone in my raft was a beginner...no biggie? Well, that included the guide. (yikes!) It was maybe one of her first few trips as a guide, so she was sandwiched between two more experienced guides. I had already been dumped into a small whirling eddy and promptly snatched up by my dear friend Reggie. My faith in "Katie" the guide was diminishing with each rapid. I had been on rivers--many of the largest in the Southeast--enough to know some things about when to paddle hard right and what to avoid. It seemed she kept putting us in precarious situations. The clincher came on the rapid known as "Miller's Folly." It is the longest rapid on that stretch of the New River. It is about a 3 or 4 on the rapid scale (don't know the exact name for that). Katie was steering us to the right. The boat ahead and the boat behind were going left. I asked my last fateful question of the day, "Katie, why are the other boats going left and we're not???" She replied that the right pass was easier. Enter sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. We found ourselves pinned against a 12 foot boulder on my side (the right-hand side) of the raft (I was in the very front of a seven man raft). The water was flowing underneath us pretty swiftly, and we really needed to put some weight down on the left and catch the current to move us on. Just as everyone realized we were stuck, Katie yelled for everyone to LEAN RIGHT!!!!! Lean right? I just barely had time to think about what that meant before I found myself kissing the boulder, under the raft and in the water. OH...gurgle...slurp...gurgle...MY...gasp...gurgle...GOD! gasp. Every time I could catch air I looked around for the rescue rope...someone on a rock to help...I looked back at Greg, whose look of panic I will never forget as he bobbed down the river. "Keep your toes up...down river..." I kept telling myself. And then I remembered the phrase that saved my life I really think. "Whenever you see the sky, take a deep breath," Amos the experienced guide had told us on the bus. I remembered it, and DID it. I was in a washing machine of river water, unable to keep my body in any position, trying desperately to keep my toes up...where were my toes? I was completely disoriented...then I saw a huge rock in front of me...I was headed straight for it. Would I bounce off? Would I get lodged somehow and pulled under? I had so many clear thoughts, including asking Jesus to let me die instead of live maimed in some way. I really am not being dramatic for the blog's sake. I really did experience all these things, and had some pretty good late-night panic attacks about it for months afterward. I still get a little sweaty when I see lots of moving water (Niagara Falls was some decent therapy).
No one threw me a rope, but I "swam" through the quarter-mile rapids and made it to the first raft, who pulled me in, choking and spitting and shaking. My boss, Daryl, looked like he was about to cry because his guide wouldn't let him jump in the water to help us. It was too dangerous. They were just going to have to watch us struggle until we came through to safer waters, and pray that we did make it.
(man, that was long story to make a point, wasn't it?)
April has been a lot like that trip. I feel like I've been dumped in the river. I have a Life Vest (capitalization intentional), but not much else but rough waters and lots of gasping when I see the sky and go back under the murky water for some more tumbling. My grandmother's passing, about 20 work events in 30 days, two classes in which everything came due at once, birthdays, births, small-group leading (or lack thereof), prayers, confusion, following, reading, and culminating with a lovely car break-in on the 29th... I have literally felt like I have been rafting without a raft.
Stress and the continual piling on can really take you on a journey. It will make you pray more or hide from everything. Or cry. I have cried remarkably little this month...odd for me, indeed. But God has shown Himself. "I'm your Life Vest, Shelley!" I don't know why we get dumped in the river sometimes, maybe so we'll learn to hang on to the life vest and keep our toes up. We learn the value of our lives, and the lives of those on the sidelines praying and watching us bob in the water. But we have to do some swimming and praying ourselves. I had to DECIDE that God was in control, even though it didn't feel that way. I had to DECLARE that He is working everything out for my good. I had to KNOW that He is God. It has been hard to be still this month...I have been eating in my car, making phone calls between work and dinner and class...trying to keep ties with people who are dear because their lives aren't necessarily stopping because mine has been turned upside down. Whew. I don't know if it's all over, but here's to hoping. I know that God is a good and experienced guide and that all of this contributes to my makeover in His image. Lord, let me see some sky...I need to breathe You in.

Granny

Dear Granny,

What a life you led. The first in your family to get saved and then you up and brought your parents to church, all before you were even a teenager. And then, to strike out for another city...traveling from East Chicago to Minneapolis for Bible College in the 1930's! How adventurous, and maybe a little scary it must have been. What I know of the intervening years is a patchwork of mom's memories and bits of stories I remember. Married to the handsome boy with the wavy jet black hair you met at bible college. Five children, whom I'm sure kept you busy. Especially if they were anything then like they are now! A lot of bumps in the road...long hours of taking the bus to work, taking care of your family, and loving a husband who didn't understand your worth.

I loved to eat your food, to sit around your freshly-decorated kitchen (it was always changing with the latest fashions), to hear your stories about school and what-not. To see your eyes light up at the prospect of chocolate, to see you talk about your grandkids... Your traveling adventures always meant a little doll from an exotic land or a bracelet and stories of places that I would hope to see someday too. Thank you for giving my mom a sense of faith and faithfulness, despite the curve balls life threw you. Your paranoia of others made me chuckle sometimes, but also was a light on your soul of the pain you had endured that made you fearful.

But you knew God, what am I saying...YOU KNOW GOD! And there you are, in His presence today...dancing before him with fresh lungs, sturdy legs, and a light-heartedness that you were not afforded down here. So we said goodbye as you crossed over Jordan...I tried my darndest to "sing you out..." but it was hard with the eyes of my family staring at me, the stillness of the room, and my meager voice breaking through the quiet. I hope you heard me trying to muster some feeling of it being well with my soul. It is well with my soul, because I know you can catch your breath, and use it to praise Jesus. I'm a little late in my remembering you with words, but I have thought of you each day since the 4th. Here's to a life well-lived, Dorothy Mae Whitsell Stevens. Rest in eternal peace. 9/25/20 - 4/4/08

LOST IS BACK

Tonight. 10 pm Eastern. ABC. Couldn't be more excited.

Random ad

Sometimes I see things that make me just scratch my head and wonder, "What the heck?" Here is one of those things. Pizza hut sent me an email advertising their "restaurant quality" pasta. Now, Pizza Hut IS a restaurant, so why wouldn't it be "restaurant quality?" That just seems redundantly redundant, doesn't it? I hope that whatever they sell would be "restaurant quality." (and just for kicks, is that quality as opposed to the really crappy food that I can make for myself at home?)

Am I missing something?

Idol Worship

So, I'm a day late and a dollar short as the saying goes. I'm usually an avid watcher of everything "American Idol," but after a long family-funeral weekend and trying to catch up on work and school, I didn't have the energy to catch the three hour plus "Idol Gives Back" marathon last week. I did hear about the finale of "Shout to the Lord," so I checked it out. I gotta say...wow. This is one of those worship ballads that never fails to move me. I don't care what those contestants believe, they were using a God-given gift to worship the Lord. Their hearts and minds may not be there yet, but I feel the Lord was glorified through this performance. Truth is truth and it is all God's truth.
Here's the video:

Wearing busyness like a badge

I was a brownie. That's a really young girl scout for those who are not in the know. I had the whole suit. At the time, they had a shirt with a cross-over tie thingie, sock tassles, and the whole gig. But my favorite part of the outfit was the sash that held the badges! A proud display that you could wear across your chest so everyone could see what skills you know and what you've earned. Well, when you put it that way...of course, as a young 7-year-old I was ready to earn every one they offered. It really didn't matter what I learned from it. The most important thing was to earn the badge and have Mom sew it on the sash!!! There was a lovely trio of badges that fit together to make a half-circle. You received one for each year in the troup. I can honestly remember the internal drive in grades 1-3 of needing to earn more badges than anyone else in my troup. My mom was definitely not pushing me...I would pore through my manual to see what I could accomplish to earn badges. And there were pins! JEWELRY! It really was the excitement of my young world to earn such things. I did virtually the same thing in children's church. We could memorize Scriptures and creeds to earn points to spend in a "store." I rocked the memorization so I could rack up on erasers, pencils, stickers, and buttons.

I forget how much I like to wear "busyness" like a badge. Something I've always done...played the martyr to my too-full schedule, practically doing an over-dramatic Victorian fainting spell when anyone asks me how things are going. What is up with that? Why do I thrive on zoom-zoom-zoom and being overworked? I think that as a producer personality, I can point to something tangible to prove my worth. Somehow, if I am making lots of commotion and generating something--schoolwork, events, etc.--then I am being a valuable citizen (in my own mind). It makes me look better to you out there.

I am busy right now. But I will not, cannot, keep giving in to the myth that busier is better. It is not. My soul isn't at rest when I have filled my plate beyond capacity. I will do whatever I can to get through these next few weeks without melting down. I will not try to wear it as a badge, because it's not a badge that the Kingdom of Heaven gives out...just the kingdom of the world. I am working on this thing of not comparing myself to others to prove my worth, but receiving my worth from the Lord. The Lord likes me still and silent and poised to hear Him. I haven't yet earned my "Be still and know" badge. I think those get handed out in nuggets of wisdom, in acts of compassion, and in moments of sincerity that come from the being still and the knowing. Ah, but earning badges seems so much easier to me.

Red Rocks Amphitheatre--AMAZING.

Denver Pics--in and around Denver

One more thing that drives me crazy...

Of course, once you make a list of 21 things that drive you crazy (see post from earlier in March), more and more things pop in your head. I had an older fellow in one of my classes this week ask me if anything ever made me angry, as I always seemed calm to him (Jerod might disagree!).

But then, it happened again yesterday. One of the few things that really does send me over the edge for some reason...

I'm sitting at a RED light, waiting to take a right. There is oncoming traffic. I wait until the coast is clear. The traffic seems to stop, but I'm waiting a second to make sure that the opposite lane won't be turning left into my lanes before I proceed. Because, dang it! I have the right to make sure I will not be creamed when I decide to turn my 2-ton vehicle into traffic!!!!!!!!!!! So DO NOT HONK AT ME BECAUSE I DON'T TAKE A RIGHT ON RED WHEN YOU THINK I SHOULD!!!!! Do not, do not, do not. If you are sitting behind me, and honk at me...I really will just sit there then until the light turns good and green. Because I'm the driver, and it's my life and my car that I'm still paying off...

I made sure to tell Fred that this action makes me sincerely angry. He smiled and thanked me for being human. Funny. He should see me when I spill something or I'm running late for something...Let's just say I'm still working on these things...Like yesterday...I shook the blue cheese dressing to get the last few drops out...and the lid wasn't completely screwed on...BLUE CHEESE EXPLOSION ON THE FLOOR, COUNTER, ETC. Sigh. These are petty things, to be sure...but don't they seem to take a lifetime to overcome?

LOSTIES...we have a hiatus...

To get us by for the next few weeks without LOST, here's a link to my favorite LOST blogger. Just good, solid, and funny recaps with some thoughts about implications...no crazy theories that make your head spin (remember, when your head spins, just walk away at a heading of 325 degrees...you will find rescue!).

http://www.longlivelocke.blogspot.com/
I check out her re-caps every week, as it helps me sort out what exactly happened. Don't forget to scroll over the photos, as she (Erica, the blogger) always codes a funny caption.

And for a detailed encyclopedic and indexed site about various characters, themes, theories, and spoilers...
http://www.lostpedia.com/wiki/Main_Page

Just doing what I can to fuel your addictions!

Thoughts while shopping...

A leisurely Saturday afternoon at the mall and shoe store provided me with endless mental entertainment...I am having a conversation with you in my head if you are out and about while I am.

(disclaimer...I do not have a 2-year-old child, so it's easy for me to make assessments about what I would do. I realize that I am "judging" with little knowledge of the challenges of reining in the equivalent of a hurricane-force of energy.)

In Rack Room Shoes, Rock Hill:

Mom: "Caden, sit down."
Caden: "Sttaaaaaaaaaaaaaaacy!"
Stacy: "Caden, stay right beside me."
Caden: full-force running around the chairs in the opposite direction of Aunt Stacy.
Caden proceeds to bounce back and forth between mommy and auntie for a full ten minutes. They were looking in separate aisles. I am in the clearance section trying to determine if it's unwise to purchase wedge shoes that do not bend on the bottom. "Will these hurt my feet if they don't bend?" I think.
"Mooooommmmy, NO!" thoughts interrupted by Caden.
"Aunt Staaaaaccccccyyyyyyyy!" Caden yells, full voice.
"Let's use our inside voice, Caden." I think. "I should leave the unbendy shoes here. Sounds good now...but my flat feet will suffer later..."
I notice that now neither Aunt Stacy nor Mommy has an eye on the two year old. But his four year old sister is trying to take over the duty. That's not working out well.
"Caden, SIT IN THAT CHAIR!" says Mommy.
"Stacy!!!!!!!!!!" Caden cries, trying to play one off the other. This ploy must have worked for him in the past.
Five more minutes of back-and-forth...pleas to sit still, or stay beside me, or not to touch, etc. I am pondering a really sweet pair of beige wedges that DO bend on the bottom, determining whether I should pay so much for sandals...
Caden is coming toward me pushing a chair in front of him down the aisle at a high velocity. There isn't a Mommy or Auntie in sight. Oooh. Busted. He is found out!! Just before he runs over my foot.
"Maybe two-year-old boys cannot 'behave' in shoe stores when it's 75 degrees and sunny out. Maybe he should be in a field running out all that energy," I think. "Can I justify bronze sandals that are the sexiest things I've ever seen and look like they were made for my feet? How many brown-ish sandals are too many brown-ish sandals? What can brown do for me?"
Caden is still pitting Mommy against Stacy...big, big sister is getting their opinions on a fetching pair of white sandals. She obviously can keep pace with the shopping sisters. Middle sister and Caden are dangerously close to a large pile of Croc knock-offs on an end-cap.
"I bet those look like those cardboard bricks to him..." I think, still pondering my sexy brown wedges that kind-of bend on the bottom.
They DO look like something to be knocked over, as he and middle sister successfully topple the entire stack of probably 25 boxes of croc wannabes.
It takes Mommy a minute to figure out what the collosal crash is.
"CADEN. SIT DOWN RIGHT NOW!" She nearly yells.
"Why should he?" I think, "You haven't enforced the sitting or the staying close for at least the last fifteen minutes that I've been here. You have merely asked, and when he doesn't respond, you let him go to Aunt Stacy. He's smart, lady, this is working in his favor." I think piously. "And I don't need brown sandals today, sexy or not...maybe they'll go on sale in a few weeks."
Mommy proceeds to command Caden and middle sister to the chairs that they were only recently pushing around the store like shopping carts. She then squats down to set up all the boxes again and restore them to their former end-stack glory.
"What a deal for those kids...they smash over the boxes, which HAD to be fun...and Mommy cleans up the mess. Why aren't the kids cleaning up the mess with her?" I wonder.
Middle sister is quick to make sure Mommy knows it's ALL Caden's fault. Caden might finally be realizing that he should do something that Mommy says to do...
Nope. By the time I decide that all the Rack Room sandals can stay at Rack Room today, he is running down another aisle, unsupervised, with Mommy yelling after him..."CADEN! Come back here."
I am tired for her. Shoe shopping is hard enough without unruly 2-year-olds. But I also wonder if she isn't making life hard on herself. I guess maybe one day I'll find out if my pious musings about two-year-olds will come back to bite me on my sore toe that I earned from wearing wedges that don't bend.

Then there's the one about the two teen-age sisters who fight in the dressing room next to me... The short version is this:
"You're a brat."
"You better listen to me. I'm in charge."
"No you're not. Linda is..."
"Well, Linda isn't in here. I am."
"You're ugly."
"I am not. I'm prettier than you."
"Ugly."
Now, girls, you're both being ugly...
"At least I have a boyfriend and I'm allowed to have a boyfriend."
"So?"
"You look stupid in that shirt."
"You look stupid in everything. I'm going back out."
"Go find Linda."
"You can't tell me what to do."
Man, this is a cute shirt...I bet it doesn't need ironing. I totally need this...
"Can to."
"Can not. I'm going to find Linda."
"'Cause I told you to."
They walk out fighting. I'm hoping they look back on these days fondly and don't say anything to each other that causes permanent damage. I think boys break each other's noses, and girls fight in dressing rooms (I fought with my mom, who of course had NO TASTE when I was 14 - 17 years old). They will end up sharing everything they bought yesterday...

Shopping is fun!

Denver Dance Died

I've just returned from Denver, and should already be in bed, getting my body clock adjusted. We went to cheer on our Eagles in the first-round NCAA Tournament. And cheer we did...but when the bottom fell out in the second half, we mostly sat. Stunned. I am not a player on the team, so I won't surmise what factors might have prompted the smack-down. It wasn't just the losing, it was the extreme loss that was painful.

Denver, however, has many charms to offer. A quick drive westward produces mining towns, snow-capped mountains, and winding roads. An unexpected joy too, was a visit with my cousin, who has lived far away since we were young teenagers...so our visits have been far and few between. We keep up mostly by email these days, but how great to hang with your cuz in her 'hood. (hee hee)

I am adding something to my as yet non-existent life "to do" list...see a great concert at Red Rocks Amphitheatre (I'll post pics soon)...I was hoping we might win our game and get to stay around for Easter Sunrise service there. It is God's little gift to Denver, and they have made the most of it. I sang a few bars of "Climb Every Mountain" on the stage to test the acoustics and just to say I had. My jello legs held me up despite the bazillion stairs we had just scaled. There are a few places in the world that seem to be natural sanctuaries meant for worship. Red Rocks is one of those. Driving on a squiggly road at 10,000 feet is also pretty cool.

So, we returned defeated, deflated, but Denver-ated. It was a good trip, all in all. I am thankful for the opportunity and a for few days out of the rat race. And now, I'm thankful for my flat pillow, my doggie foot-warmer, and the kind of quiet that only your own home can provide for restful sleep.

Good night.

Whatsoever things are lovely...

That is part of a great scripture I had to memorize when I was a Missionette. (don't know about missionettes? it's like girl scouts for the Assemblies of God denomination...we earned badges and everything! good times)

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Philippians 4:8

So, a wee bit chastised by said verse, I feel compelled to balance out the thingsthatdrivemecrazy list with a wee list of things I find delightful. Surely not such a hard thing to do! (and it occurs to me I could very nearly just write the opposite of the other list's points...but I shan't...I shall try to be more original...and these are not ordered, merely writing them as I think of them...don't think me a heretic if my number one is not about Jesus)

1. Not having to set an alarm clock
2. Coffee with hot chocolate in it on Saturday morning in pj's
3. Knowing that my husband loves me...even though I know I am so fault-full
4. The merest thought of the magnitude of God's love and grace
5. Being nice to strangers
6. When patience wins over impatience
7. green plants in my house
8. Finishing a project
9. Tulips of any color
10. Taking a moment to take a picture of something just because I find it lovely or interesting
11. family time at Christmas
12. the sound of crickets and smell of freshly cut grass in early Summer
13. hearing Sarah DeShields talk--not only does she have an awesome Scottish accent, she seems to emanate an ethereal grace
14. a lowercase letter "j"
15. warm sun on my face
16. warm chocolate chip cookies and a mug o' milk
17. getting frosted mini wheats with lots of sugar on the one side
18. finding unexpected money in coat pockets or purses
19. when Jerod answers the phone with his lovey, silly voice just for me
20. France/Mont St. Michel/Paris/Ste. Chapelle/Chenonceau--I could live in France
21. Discovering that the "youth" I've worked with are all grown-up with amazing thoughts, ambitious endeavors, and lives that follow Christ--it's beautiful to see that work in progress
22. Painted toenails and sandals when the chill leaves
23. Birkenstocks, Birkenstocks, Birkenstocks
24. Tax refunds
25. a clean house at the beginning of the weekend
26. Almost anything that is ORANGE, except oompa loompas (I might add oompa loompas to the previous post!)

Wow. I could really go on and on!!! Thank you, Lord, for lovely things. They all must be a reflection of You somehow.

I'm trying so hard, but...

...sometimes I just want to let the ugly part of my brain out of its cage. I'm moving toward a place of greater patience and fewer judgements...so I'm hoping this tiny vent will serve to blow off some steam, and will help me keep moving forward. And some of these are things I do, so I'm being all-access here.

Things that drive me crazy:
1. When people don't use blinkers
2. When people make NO ATTEMPT to recycle, even when they own a recycling bin, or their office recycles.
3. Being late (even when it's me)
4. People who don't RSVP when invited to an event that asks for an RSVP...it's not rocket science!
5. Really dirty public restrooms
6. Forgetting to tape episodes of "LOST"...it's not the same watching it online
7. When people use the Bible to support a hate agenda (notice I'm not hating them, as that would be the same thing they're doing...but they are allowed to drive me crazy)
8. Finding a coupon in my purse a day after buying the item full price
9. Melted chocolate
10. When people pick up their cell phone to tell you they don't have time to talk...let it go to voicemail!!! Call me back when you DO have time!!!
11. (you didn't think I could stop at 10, did you?) Scuffing my awesome new shoes the very first time I wear them
12. The smell of paperwhites (it's a flower that smells like kerosene)
13. Any "news" of Britney Spears right now...let's get out of her weave, I mean hair
14. Quick edits or commercials that surprise you with something really disgusting, like someone reaching his/her hand into a bloody orifice or eating a giant bug, etc. Give me some warning!!
15. Itchy tags in clothing
16. Ugly power point presentations and most templates for power point
17. ...The fact that most convenience snack foods I like seem to be carbohydrate-laden
18. Being sneezed or coughed upon
19. When people say "The number 'B' (with any letter)" or "6 a.m. in the morning"
20. Poor grammar on television, especially news and pop music (see post from a few months back)
22. When people number things and skip a number


That should about do it. I will post something lovely after this to balance the hateration.

Oh, I wanna dance with somebody!

There are those days that are just right. Today was one of those days. We've been avid fans of the Winthrop Eagles since our days as students on campus...but especially in the past few years as I've gone back to work there and we're in the thick of it. The Men's Basketball Team has been playing hard this year, but has had some trouble against one particular team...UNC-Asheville. Asheville has a great team, complete with the tallest player in college basketball at 7'7" and some outstanding shooters. We lost to them twice in the regular season and tied them for first place in the conference. When I say "lost," you should read "got creamed." So, when the two teams met again today for the conference championship, we were slightly hopeful, but mostly just that we would not get our hineys handed to us on a platter. The Eagles came out in fine form...the basketball seemed to magically find the net over and over, while the Bulldogs couldn't get their shoot on at all. It was all too wonderful to watch. We stood and cheered ourselves hoarse at the screen, jumping up and down...high-fiving...dancing around. It was fantastic. Yes, it's a little orange ball and a net, but a triumph for a team who lost a teammate this year and their coach. I love the Eagles, win or lose, they have lots of heart. GO EAGLES GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Gospel Truth-what a gem

It has taken me over 30 years. But at least it's happening! I am finally starting to clear away the Christianese clutter and uncover a vibrant, real, true, and lasting faith. Much like when folks are treasure-hunting and digging in the ground...they uncover something that looks like it might be valuable...a ruby or emerald...that's been there all along...but has been heretofore covered with dirt, grass, and the like. But it's amazing what the gem can look like when the dirt is washed, the stone is polished and cut just so! It looks like a whole new jewel!!
So, here I am. I've been carrying this dusty, rough-cut jewel around since I was five, but didn't know exactly how beautiful a thing it was. It has at various times been covered in a film of name-it-claim-it vending machine Jesus rhetoric, a heavy coating of left-behind-mark-of-the-beast-cut-my-head-off fear of the Anti-Christ, moral-majority-everyone-should-be-a-Republican dust, be-externally-holy-or-else-you're-excommunicated sludge, you-have-faith-because-of-what-you-don't-do/drink/listen-to grime, etc. (And if none of that hyper-hyphenation made sense to you, thank your Lord!) Likely, in our country, however, at least one of those hyper-hyphenations rings true, whether you've lived smack in the middle of it or been smacked by it in some way. I would go so far as to call it American Evangelical brainwashing, even though some of it is obviously not all bad...most of it does not really look a thing like the Kingdom of God that Jesus describes. The Kingdom of God that is "at hand"...meaning it should be happening in each of us NOW. Not when the clouds split open and we all meet Him in the air on some glad morning.
I can understand how previous generations have had their minds on what is to come, generations of enslaved African-Americans who got through the day by singing about "across the Jordan" and having a "crown up in a that Kingdom." Early Pentecostals, whose lives were transformed by Jesus, yearning for the "sweet Beulah land" and flying away.
So, I'll give you all that. The whole of this American religious conversation and its movements have a root in something real, a real desire to see the world righted through political agendas, increased wealth, "turn or burn" fear factors, a drive toward holiness...Yes, and amen to those who see that the world is turning on an unholy axis! It solidifies the notion of original sin and that we are in need of something or someone to save us.
But we've missed the point. We've been so busy trying to build roads to God that we've missed the fact that there is no need for a road. He's HERE. He came here, and He lives here in the heart of His followers. When we FOLLOW him, rather than try to find a methodical way to get to Him, He will do the work of transforming the world around us. He will draw people to Himself, convict them of their sins, convince them of their need for Him and for His grace. He will extend love through us, heal broken hearts and broken bodies. He will revolutionize the political system, but not the way we think of it.
"But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." (Matt. 6:33) His system is bizarro world to us. My Pastor wrote some modern beatitudes. This is what the Kingdom of God should look like NOW, HERE, on EARTH. This is what we will look like when we follow Him. It's not what we strive for, it's what He will mold us into. It's worth nothing less than everything we have.
My jewel is starting to look less grimy every day! Thank you Lord for revealing YOUR truths, for washing the filth off that has been accumulating...for revealing your beauty and for shining.

If only all the world were a musical...

A recent conversation with Michelle reminded me of my longing to live, even for one day, in a world that operates like a musical. I kind of do this at home, though my musical selections haven't much to do with the moment. I go from singing Heart to Hymns in nanoseconds. One of my most annoying traits (to me) is the fact that I sometimes can only sing about two lines of any given song before I (A) start making up my own lyrics or (B) sing nonsense until I get to words I know again.
In musicals, life can be navigated with a mere song. The poor scarecrow laments his pure stupidity and inability to make any decisions with "If I Only Had a Brain." Sadly, I hum this under my breath when I meet certain people. (shameful, yes) Maria makes it all better when the Von Trapp children pile on her bed during a storm by singing, "My Favorite Things" {extraneous side-bar: this song is NOT a Christmas song, please stop playing it in the Christmas rotation}. Even a rainstorm is made lovely with Gene Kelly's "Singing in the Rain" and accompanying tap dance.
A song about a flat, brown state becomes exciting with "Oooooooook-lahoma, where the wind comes sweeping down the plain..." Life would be easier to live if we could just whip out the perfect song, sing it with gusto and back-up dancers, arms wide open to possibilities.
But we got all post-modern and realized that life was more layered and complicated and cliches are no longer cool or relevant. BUMMER!
Singing out loud is good for the soul. It makes your heart hum along...even if you can't sing, we've learned from American Idol that that is not such a hardship...as long as YOU believe you can sing (and do so in the privacy of your shower or car).
Most people REALLY LOVE or REALLY HATE a good musical. This hate sentiment...I do not understand. What a wonderful world it would be if anytime we felt like it, all time would stand still for a moment, the orchestra would swell, and we could belt out "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" or "I Could Have Danced All Night" or "Can't Help Lovin' dat Man." As long as we all took turns and backed each other up with good backing vocals, what's the harm? Musicals for President, 2008!

One more jumped out of the lifeboat.

I've been reading some Donald Miller along with my chapters of Matthew, and it's as though he knew I'd be reading the Beatitudes (Matt. 5) along with his book. The book of which I speak is Searching for God Knows What. I've had it for quite a while, and just recently finally picked it up. I could go on for days about Miller's spot-on writing style--how he so very casually seems to be able to target the holes in my theology and heart and fill them with God's truths. He is an amazing human. More on that in a moment...
But what strikes me today is yet another story of a probable fractured soul who has taken lives as well as his own in a final statement to the world. After a whirlwind Thursday, we did not have time to turn on the TV and get any news yesterday, so when I awoke, I saw another mass-shooting/suicide unfolding before my eyes, this time in Illinois. And so many would dismiss this fellow as just another "crazy." Notwithstanding the possibility of mental illness, I see him as someone who was likely marginalized and disregarded by his peers and/or family. We will probably see his story unfold much in the way of the Christmas mall shooter, Virginia Tech, YWAM/Colorado, and Columbine scenerios. I feel so sorry for these people who obviously have not had a community who listen to them, support them, and provide direction for them. They feel the need to make a final statement and to get an audience at any cost.
Miller unpacks a "lifeboat" theory in his book...a loose analogy of our living our lives as though we're in a lifeboat with a few too many people to make the lifeboat effective...so someone has to go or be sacrificed in order to keep the whole boat afloat and rescue the remaining ones. We all live in such a way as to secure our "worthiness" to survive. The smart act smarter, the lovely display their beauty, the holy judge and look down upon the less righteous (irony intended), etc. We group ourselves in ways to secure a slightly higher spot in the pecking order. We all have someone that we perceived as less-fill-in-the-blank than we are, and so we feel secure in our position. Or, if we are not getting enough affirmation, we find ways to prove our worth through performance/achievement, beauty creams (or worst-case scenerio plastic surgery that pulls our wrinkles behind our hairlines and draws the skin up from the toes, plumpers that make the smile look forced and the eyes surprised--SCARY!), or we buy things that make us look/feel successful--gadgets, toys, and the like. Of course, I could expound upon this idea ad infinitum, but you get the drift. We are all in a self-worth race and are desperate to prove that we are not the loser, the one who gets thrown over the side and left for the sharks.
My Pastor often refers to God's Kingdom as "a Kingdom upside-down." That is, completely opposite of the earthly kingdoms we understand. It's true...everything about capitalism and every other -ism flies in the face of Scripture. Miller asserts that indeed this is true in the lifeboat. We are all looking around the boat, desperate to prove our own case, when the Scriptural method of finding our self-worth is to let the Creator TELL us who we are. Not who we are in comparison to others, but who we are TO HIM. What HE has created us to accomplish, whom HE has called us to serve. By listening to HIS voice, following HIS word, and reveling in HIS affirmation, we are then able to repair a fractured society instead of participating in the fractured-ness.
Jesus never hung out in the lifeboat. He didn't hang out with the up-and-comers, the religious folks, the beautiful people. He hung out with the marginalized, the sinners, the tax-collectors, the prostitutes...because He didn't have anything to lose. He listened to his Father. His Father told him who He was and what He had to accomplish. He didn't play games for political power, though he certainly could have. He didn't use the crowds of people who followed him around to get rich, though he could have. He was simple and loving. He reminded us that the meek inherit the earth, that the poor in spirit will see the Kingdom of God, that those who mourn will be comforted. He tells us to hunger and thirst for God alone. None of those kinds of people last very long in the lifeboat. Those are the people who are not listened to in our society, whose isolation feeds mental illness, who are not being reached by the light of Christ, by the church--communities that are supposed to be healing and reaching out to the marginalized. We are missing something with our version of Christianity. I think we are missing the real boat in our attempt to cling to the only boat that feels familiar. Even though on that "life"boat (misnomer) we will all eventually sink.

Refine Me-a prayer

a fine and lovely song that popped into my head during Jesus time...you really should hear it sung, but this will do--I suppose.

I come into this place
Burning to receive your peace
I come with my own chains from wars I've fought for my own selfish gain
You're my God and my Father
I've accepted your Son
But my soul feels so empty now
What have I become?
Lord, come with your fire, burn my desires; refine me
Lord, my will has deceived me
Please come and free me
Refine me
My heart can't see when I only look at me
My soul can't hear when I only think of my own fears
They are gone in a moment; You're forever the same
Why did I look away from You?
How can I speak Your name?
Lord, come with Your fire, burn my desires; refine me
Lord, my will has deceived me
Please come and free me
Come rescue this child
For I long to be reconciled to You
It's all I can do to give my heart and soul to You
And pray, and pray, oh I will pray
Lord, come with Your fire, burn my desires; refine me
Lord, my will has deceived me
Please come and free me
Come rescue this child
For I long to be reconciled to You
Refine me, refine me
Refine me, refine me

Words/Music by Kim Bontrager
Recorded by Jennifer Knapp on "Kansas"

Pave Paradise and put up a Parking Lot

In the name of Woods, I beg you! Stop clearing trees for more shopping centers and beige cracker-box vinyl siding houses on postage stamp lots!!!!!!!!!!
Isn't that a lovely reaction to my drive in the "country" today? We wove our way over to Waxhaw (say that sentence three times fast), featuring mostly-enjoyable scenery, some cows, older homes on hills...but my oh me. They have basically sheared the stretch of land between Historic Downtown Waxhaw and Marvin road. Waxhawians (?) certainly should have some amenities, as their ranks threaten to take over the world...but does every corner have to be a Target-RackRoom-Michaels comporium? On a two lane road that's the only way and the only way out? I'm not even a city planner by trade, and I can tell you this is all adding up to be a great big mess. I was ever-so-sad to drive by a friend of mine's road, which used to be hard to find "go over the bridge, pass the murky forest, and turn right at the cupboard shop." Some mean bulldozer has eliminated the murky forest for what I'm assuming will be a Super Target. (for the record...LOVE Target) But the price of growth there seems far too high. I am sad for the people who moved to the sticks over 20 years ago and now find their beautiful Tara-like home overlooking the Harris Teeter/CVS flourescent show.
We will look back on this era of expansion when everyone deserved a Harris Teeter (grocery, in case you don't live around here) within four minutes of his/her home...and be sad that we paved paradise and put up a parking lot. Especially as we gasp for breatheable AIR because the only trees left are in museums!
(rant over, you may now return to your regularly scheduled programming)

I have been a spastic wind-up toy.

It's true. Let me tell you how I know.

We've signed up for a great experiment at church. As a church, we are all covenanting (is that a word) to spend at least 30 minutes in prayer/journaling/Scripture-reading every day. We will fast for one 24-hour period each week, and we will participate in a small group (for many reasons, but not the least of which is to have folks to hold us accountable for above activities).

Our focus Scripturally is the Book of Matthew. I have been reading and digesting it, with the help of Dr. Hauerwas. I am only on Chapter 2, as I am trying my best to digest slowly and not race through like a speed-eating champion. I tend to read fast with momentary comprehension, so I am fighting the good fight to "read deeply."

In Chapter 2, at some point in my life, I underlined all the times Matthew uses the word dream. This chapter is basically about the birth of Christ, his parents, King Herod, and wise men. Obviously something big is going down, so God makes sure everyone understands what should happen by speaking to them in dreams...

...wise men--God warns them in a dream not to return to Herod

...Joseph--he must have slept A LOT! In this chapter alone, he has three distinct directives in dreams...

1. Go to Egypt. Herod is hunting baby boys.

2. Return to Israel. Herod is dead.

3. No, really. It's ok to go back, but settle in Galilee.

And even with all of these specific directives, it mentions that "Joseph is afraid." I mean, this guy has had angels show up in his bedroom! He KNOWS the Lord is real, the Lord is speaking to him, etc. And he still has room for fear. (side note: I wonder how frightening it would be to know that you are parenting the Son of God? Did Jesus need "parenting?" I imagine he never got dragged into a fast food restroom and given the what-for! Were his siblings jealous that he never got in trouble? "Jesus is perfect...he never gets a spanking..." I could go on for hours...)

All of that to say. The Lord is always speaking to us. He is desperate to get through to us, to tell us where to go, what to say, when to do this or that...and that He loves us, he has plans for us...What I have realized in reading just this chapter. I have not rested enough in quiet places to hear God's voice so distinctly. I saw a clear picture of myself as a little wind-up toy, as you might get with a Happy Meal. You wind them 'til you can't wind anymore, and watch them zip around in every direction until they tucker out. Yup. That's me. And while I'm buzzing, I'm rarely listening to God...until I get tuckered out and still...worn out by life and desperate for an answer and clear direction. No more buzzing about. Wind up toys are for kids.

Dear old Donald Miller recounts a story in which a friend tells him reality is like wine...not for children. And the reality is, I cannot continue letting my life live me while squeezing in devotions, short prayers for help, and quiet moments. I need to grow up in the Lord, and discipline my spiritual life, not because I want something...but because He wants me. Not the wind-up toy me, but a real, live, present me...devoted and fueled up for the long haul.

Those wind-up toys always end up breaking anyway.