How's Your Father Doing??

What a long weekend it was! We left on Thursday and drove south to visit colleges for our daughter, and then on Friday arrived on our son's college campus to attend his Graduation Ceremony on Saturday. We went from the highs of celebration to the lows of exhaustion, from the highs of the powerful commencement address that stirred our souls, to the lows of the late night packing up of his dorm room. Late, late night.

And then early, early morning we were up to prepare for a long 14 hour drive home that turned into a harrowing 17 hour drive--extended and lengthened due to all the stops along the way to check on four weary travelers in two cars, the one car overloaded with a car-top carrier and bursting out the seams.

I still haven't recovered. In fact, my left eye burst a blood vessel in the white of my eye, so I look as ravaged by stress as I actually feel. And though Safety Bill really took on the whole responsibility of the packing and the driving, I could not shake the Anxiety that rose within me. I hadn't slept well before we took the trip, and I certainly didn't sleep well during the trip.

I'm not sure if sleeplessness precedes an Anxiety Attack or if it's the ultimate outcome of it-- but either way, I was a mess. And I knew I was.

You should have heard my prayers late that night as Bill labored past midnight to get our son packed up before the 9am deadline the next morning. I prayed like a desperate person. I prayed about all the things that were burdening me-- and the trip home was only the tip of the iceberg. Launching a son into the world as a fully functioning adult is no easy thing, for some parents. There were financial burdens (since we were maxed out after four years of college, and now had a daughter heading to college in a year). I felt like a conglomeration of crisis points had converged and been presented to me to suddenly solve. I wasn't thinking rationally, really. And I was conjecturing all the worst case scenarios. And so I prayed frantically and pleadingly. It wasn't a pretty sight, and I certainly don't think it was music to God's ears.

You see, HE was listening to me, alright. But God was concerned about my state of mind and my well-being and He could tell...I was not well. And you see, I'm a reflection of who God is because I'm His child. He's my Heavenly Father. I'm told in Scripture, repeatedly, not to worry, and I'm supposed to know that God cares for my every need.

But the way that I was praying, as the hours got later and my physical reserves depleted themselves, sounded like I was frantically trying to get God's attention. I felt desperate to get a measure of peace, and I couldn't seem to access that promised peace. And so I prayed harder but in reality I might have been doing more pleading than praying. And I'm not so sure that a child pleading for her Father to help is a good reflection on that Father.

GOOD Fathers hear their children, the minute they call. Good Fathers WANT to help their children, and want to alleviate their fears. If you have a good father, people can tell: they look at you and see that you're well cared for, that you have a healthy self-esteem, that you are obviously loved and you know that you are.

Every time you call on your Father, the way you call Him says something about you....and something about Him. Think about that for a minute, because this isn't a judgment statement but rather a statement about reflection.

What do we reflect when we pray? Obviously when we are in trouble, when we are situationally anxious or worried, we won't always immediately express the confidence that we would normally have in God because our adrenaline is coursing through us, and our fight-or-flight response is heightened. But for the most part, if we have learned to trust God, if we have learned to rely upon Him, we should be able to express a measure of that even in our desperate prayers. Because our relationship with our Father is the Constant, and not the variable, our times of crisis-praying should still reflect, in some way, what we know is true about that relationship.

So as I prayed late into the night, that night...I began to hear myself. I heard the frantic tone in my voice ( I pray out loud). I heard the circuitous pleading. I heard the troubled voice of a child who does not know that God is listening, already responding, already deeply involved in her situation.

And I started to pray differently. I began to quote the promises in Scripture. I began to declare Who God says, in His Word, that He IS--not the way that I felt, in that moment, that He was (which was far away, inaccessible, hard to reach). I began to pray differently because I realized I sounded like an abandoned child. I sounded like a child who'd been living on the streets, hand to mouth, without a guardian or protector or Defender. And while I felt like one, in that moment (because Anxiety will run you into Dark, into the Deep Unknown of Despair), still I knew that I had a good heavenly Father--not a bad One, not an incompetent One.

I'm a reflection of Him. I'm a child, and spiritually speaking, though I'm supposed to mature, I still will always be a child in the sense of me belonging to Someone who created me. He's the eternal Father and always will be One. This aspect of our relationship will always be there.

And so every time I pray, how I pray will reflect what our relationship is like, and what kind of a Father I have, what kind of a child I am.

This is no small thing. What kind of a Heavenly Father do you have?? How do you know Him to act towards you? Do you understand His heart's motive? When He is silent, do you think that means He is also uncaring and cold? Your resulting conclusion will reflect what kind of a child you are, and what kind of a father you think God is.

Let me remind you, in case you're going through a crisis, in case you're feeling very anxious or worried or stressed out: God definitely cares about you, and does not want you to feel anxious or worried. He knows that you and I will battle these awful feelings that cause our stomachs to feel sick and our heads to ache and our fingers to tremble--but He does not want you to feel this horrible emotional pain because He does not want you to feel UN-Loved. Loved children are secure. Children who know they are loved feel loved.

What good is it if Somebody loves you- but you don't feel like they love you?? 1 Corinthians 13 begins with "If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal." I'd like to add, that if you have a Heavenly Father who loves you, but you don't feel love, then you are--in your mind-- an unloved child. And what does that solve? What does that reflect? Unloved children have horrible parents. and children don't get to choose their biological parents, so it's not the child's fault if he or she is not loved by the parent. No child should be un-loved. Maybe the definition of "child" should really be "one who is loved."

And friend, you are loved. You have a Father who is merciful and constant in His watch over you. He tells us, in His word, over and over, not to worry. He does not want us consumed with anxiety. He wants to to be at peace, and to be at peace with Him- because "He himself is our peace" Eph.2:14.

He is our Peace. He is our Father. Call on Him today. Try out the voice of a child who is loved. Start speaking the words of a child who knows he can ask, freely, for help. Try asking boldly, because Your Father loves it when you trust that He is Good.

And when you bump into an old friend who asks you how your Father is doing, tell your friend what you've been learning about your heavenly father (even if they were asking about your human father).

Tell your friend that your Father is doing well...and therefore so are you.

Between Two Worlds

I've just spent the last hour trying to clean out my email inbox. (I'm still getting these warnings that the mailbox is precariously full, though.) This is more a statement about my inability to make quick decisions about what is necessary and what is superfluous in life, than it is a question of pressing the delete button over and over. These are the things that weigh us down in life--I'm convinced of that. When your garbage cans and email inboxes are overflowing, it means things have caught up with you.

I've got more than spring cleaning on my mind, lately. It seems like it's time for me to do a little soul searching too; or maybe you would call it a re-balancing, like the way they re-balance the tires on your car so that uneven weight distribution doesn't cause noticeable vibrations.

I've spent a bit of time over the last week reviewing some news stories and videos about the Japanese people and their state of emergency after the earthquake and tsunami. They are not dealing with petty things like cleaning out email inboxes. They are dealing with issues of survival. They are trying to find someplace solid on which to stand. They're looking for lost loved ones and dealing with a death toll that some say is hovering near 22,000.

What can I learn from the Japanese? They are going through hell right now. They are learning to cope, to endure, to overcome. Everything is critical in their life right now.

I do not face these same challenges. But I'm called to the same actions of persevering, enduring, overcoming. In light of their overwhelming pain right now, the light bulb has gone on in my brain: it's called Perspective. I see things differently. I realize that I have some challenges in life, but I am not challenged to the point of death and despair. I realize that there are things I don't want to do in life, but I am not dealing with the daunting undesirable task of searching through dead bodies so that I can identify a loved one. I'm not in a season of crisis. I'm not, in any way, at the end of my rope, so to speak.

So on behalf of those who are in crisis, I contribute to the Red Cross relief efforts through my local grocery store. But more than that, I pray--for divine help, miraculous strength, a way...where there seems to be no way. And then I also set my mind about how I will deal with the challenges in my life. I want to have the right attitude, the right undercurrent of thought about every big and small problem: this is just an obstacle, a minor issue, a relational blip, a financial challenge; and I can deal with this.

It's not a feeling of guilt that teaches me this perspective. And it's not so much relief either--relief that I'm not living through the aftermath of catastrophe-- but it's the understanding that in between those two opposing worlds of guilt and relief is the healthy balance of an appreciation for Life, sweet and full, messy and frustrating, challenging and precious.

I think our Japanese friends would tell us this, that when all is said and done, a hand in yours, an embrace of comfort, an understanding look, a listening ear--these are the things we all cherish, no matter what season of life we're in. This is what Life is--the flow and the undertow, the crisis and the calm after the storm, and everything else in between that makes us look up for help and then reach out for those around us.... gratefully.

To the Point

A couple years ago when my husband Bill was doing some carpentry work for this sweet Italian man named Vic, Bill came home from work one day with a little saying of Vic's that we still use to this day. Bill had been telling him about a project he was working on and how he was almost done with it. Vic slapped him vigorously on the shoulder and said, "Good for you!"- but he meant this. He really did.He was beaming as he said it. His eyes lit up, Bill said.

Now Bill and I say this a lot. Over little accomplishments and big ones. To our children, to our friends. It's probably the modern day equivalent of that Scripture verse about rejoicing with those who rejoice.

I like things that get right to the point; sayings that are short and sweet... and powerful.

Back when I was pregnant with my son and we were living up in the White mountains of New Hampshire, there was another sweet, funny man in our life- Mr. Kaminsky. He lived below us on a little hill- you could see his house from our picture window. We had a hyper Springer Spaniel named Spenser who got loose quite frequently or would pull out of our grasp and go running through the streets and jump on people. But Mr. Kaminsky loved Spenser, and every morning there Mr. Kaminsky would be, tottering on his cane, very unsteady on his feet, standing out in his front yard and calling up to us, "Let 'em go!! Just let him go!!"

That's what we say to each other when we're flooded with worries or concerns- "Let em go!" That's what we encourage our loved ones with when they've got that anxious look on their face- "Just let 'em go!"

And then this week, I read Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird for the umpteenth time. I told Bill I'm in love with Anne Lamott. She can say the most brilliant of things in the most self effacing way. She gets right to the point about things, and in dealing with her own insecurity and pettiness, she touches on mine. Like the way she talks about criticism and how some people relish giving it to you. If someone is "too strident or adamant, ditch the sucker," she says, only partially tongue-in-cheek.

Then she shares the story of how she went shopping for a dress to wear on a date, and her friend Pammy went with her. Pammy was dying of cancer, in a wheelchair, wearing a wig. Annie kept trying on dresses , asking what every normal woman asks, "Do you think this makes my hips look too big?" and Pammy answered, short and sweet, to the point- "Anne? I really don't think you have that kind of time."

It just might be that these three pithy sayings are all you need to respond to someone. No matter what the problem is, what you're facing, what you're rejoicing over, what you're going through, one of these saying is appropriate.

For those celebrating today, for those who've won a victory- "GOOD FOR YOU!!"

For those of my readers overwhelmed with worries- "Let 'em go! Just let 'em go!!"

And for anyone dealing with spiraling morale or diminishing confidence, or for those questioning their sanity or capability (like I am), just look in the mirror and admonish yourself, "I really don't think you have time for that."

Take a Deep Breath

Wonderful things and terrible things happen in the middle of the night. Every mother knows this. Oh, the thoughts that run through your head at that time of the night- namely 3am- when your 19 year old son is not home yet: you think of the worst, pray for the best, and get ready to give that kid of yours a real talking to when he finally does drive in at 4am.

Only as soon as I heard his car pull in, I turned over in bed, heaved a sigh of relief and a prayer of thanks, and decided to give him the talking-to at lunch time. Or whenever he was going to wake up and tell me all about the concert he went to and how great it was and didn't-I-like-his-t shirt and all that. He'll smile at me and kid me about my overwhelming concern for him, and I'll sigh and roll my eyes at him and care only that he is alive and well and testing the boundaries of freedom, safety, and life. That kid of mine keeps me hurdling through life, yelping out prayers, looking upward with frantic eyes at times, and stumbling...forward...hopefully.

Now my soon-to-be-15 year old daughter does just the opposite. She organizes me. Prods my memory. Reminds me to take the bread out of the oven before I burn it. Cleans her room routinely and smiles while she does it. Tells me not to forget the doctor appointment. And all that. Her way of grabbing life by the throat and engaging it is not quite the way my son does it. Hallelujah for the small reprieves God throws our way.

But I do learn from both my kids. My son teaches me to take the foot off the brake and press on the gas. My daughter reminds me of the safety of stop signs. It's like I have two voices reminding me to "Get going!" and "Go safely" all at the same time- and I'm not sure you can always do both.

You can't always navigate safely and avoid all danger. Sometimes you can avoid a good amount of trouble- but you shouldn't think you'll never have a sleepless night or a frantic day of waiting for good news. But nor should you think that careful planning and good thinking can't help you sail on a little more safely and surely- even as you sing "Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life".

Good mental health is the awareness that life is a bit dangerous- and that you don't develop a sick love for danger, but maybe a bit of respect for the way that danger makes your heart beat faster to the point that you remember how very alive you are. Too much safety and sameness can make you as powerful as a clogged drain and as dull as an overstuffed cat.

Speaking of cats, my gardener brother is thinking of getting one (or a dog) so that his garden won't be overun with voles. But after yesterday, I think I wouldn't mind having a couple of those cute mice-like creatures in my backyard (especially since I have nothing growing there but weeds).

I saved the life of a vole yesterday. As soon as I spotted it in my brother's garden, I regretted exclaiming what I saw because my brother protected his green organic paradise with a vengeance. I pleaded for its life.

"We'll have to move it far away from the garden, then- if you don't want me to kill it" he said.

I grabbed an empty pail and he prodded it and plopped it in the pail. It was still.

"You gave it a concussion!" I wailed.

"Nah, he's just staying quiet cause he's afraid".

Fear not, I thought compassionately- trying to convey to this creature that it would not end badly. But how do you let a little vole know that though he feels in great danger, that the hand holding the bucket is a gentle one- not a striking one.

We drove down the street, pulled into a little parking lot next to some woods, opened the car door, and turned over the bucket. The vole sat there. Stunned. Dazed. Afraid. Delirious with joy, perhaps. He was alive. The moment of danger had passed. He would go on another day.

And that's what I'm doing today.

Home Base Bliss

Thank God for the birds chirping outside or I would forget it's Spring. Sometimes I'm wrestling with issues from my past like someone dealing with snow removal and the snow never stops coming. There's got to be a time and place when you just forget "dealing" with stuff and you decide to just breathe, take a deep breath, smile, relax, and be -what feels like to you- slightly irresponsible and carefree.

Harry is content and at peace- and that is amazing because he got clipped and shorn the other day, like a sheep at the shearers. But this was a different experience for him. The truth is, the grooming place where I had been taking him really didn't care to have Harry return. They said they would groom him if I really needed to bring him in, but there was a sound of resignation in the woman's voice when she said it. I knew what she meant: don't bring that skitzy, nervous, pooping dog in here, please!

So I didn't. I found someone who comes to your home, parks in your driveway, and clips and cleans your dog from the little shelter of her minivan equipped with doggy bath, generator, air conditioner, grooming table. And this sweet woman was not some battle ax of a woman, but a sweet talking blonde wisp of a thing. Harry loved her.

She spent three hours in her van with him and when he emerged, he looked like a little lamb, and acted like one too. He wasn't cowering and acting neurotic and rushing to a corner to hide for three days, like he would have if I had taken him somewhere to get groomed.

"He kept staring out the van window and he knew where he was, so he didn't seem to be that scared" she told me.

It's good to feel like you know where you are- that you're safe at home base. I do happen to know several people who struggle with fear of leaving home, fear of open spaces, fearing of treading new ground in new places. I have a lot of empathy for anyone who struggles to come out of their shell, out of their home, out of their past.

It's a lot of work to clip a nervous dog- and its a lot of work to stabilize someone who is nervous and full of anxiety but maybe doesn't have all the words to aptly describe why they're experiencing what they're experiencing.

My husband and daughter and I are celebrating our dog's recent experience with Success. This past grooming experience was successful. The dog is no longer matted and dirty and his ears are clean and healthy now. But more than that, he's not traumatized or further induced to avoid the groomer with even more hysteria. No, he might just walk out, the next time, and greet the groomer happily, and jump into her doggy spa van and let her do her thing.

So I'm thinking that maybe I should also try to deal with the things that scare me or trouble me by deciding if I really do need to deal with them head on, feet first, plunging into them like a scared swimmer jumping into ice cold water. Maybe there's a way to find better places, better relationships, better scenarios. Maybe I can spend more time authorizing myself to choose better and choose wisely so I spend less time as a victim or as a unwilling participant in a scene that I didn't have to enter.

All this wisdom and musing can be attributed to the fact that I got to observe my dog go through something that, this time, wasn't an ordeal. This time it was palatable. Next time it might even be enjoyable.

And that's what I'm heading for: enjoying life, enjoying the fruit of the labor of my hands, enjoying the journey. Because there's choices along the way. And I want to make good ones. I don't always get to choose what I'm going to go through- but when I do, I want to choose well.

Now I'm off to walk the dog and notice the birds chirping. It's a good day.

It's Right Under Your Nose

Our son, away at college, misses home- but not that much. He's enjoying his life down south, his classes, his social times with friends. I couldn't be happier about his happiness. As he approaches the end of his freshman year at college, it's clear he is in the right place, he sees that he is, and we are all feeling the results of that truth: peace, contentment, a sense of satisfaction and relief and thanksgiving to God.

Sometimes you can tell what is making you happy. Sometimes you don't know what is causing your unhappiness and frustration. And sometimes things are good- but you just don't realize it- and the answer is right under your nose.

I was so touched by this Scripture passage I was reading this morning because Jesus is lamenting over His people not seeing, not realizing, what they have when they have it. He's their Answer. He's their Prince of Peace. And yet they missed this truth. He cries out to the city,"..."If you had known in this day, even you, the things which make for peace! But now they have been hidden from your eyes" (Luke 19:42).

What makes for peace in your life? For me, it's a day when my dog is not disturbed and causing problems, my daughter's home school lessons are going smoothly, my bills are paid, my creativity is unleashed and my possibilities are still open, my future looks bright, my health is good, my loved ones are well,... I guess it does take a lot to make me happy! Maybe happiness isn't the word, but it does seem to take a strong combination of things to give me a real sense of peace and well being.

Or I could just focus on the Lord, and see Him for who He is and Where He is in my life - which is everywhere- and take a deep breath and feel so blessed about what I know, what I really know.

What do you know, right now, about what brings you peace? What do you see in front of you- and what don't you see? Because the reason I ask this is that I'm starting to realize there are many things I haven't been seeing yet they have been right in front of me. And apparently this is an age-old problem that humans have. We're slow to perceive the blessing and the presence of God. Jerusalem, the city of God's favor, missed the greatest Eternal Favor of all time: Jesus Christ Himself sent to be their Redeemer.

It's one thing to sort of see something, it's another thing to absolutely know it and therefore you live as though you know this truth. That's what that word means in the verse "If only you had known...". And the things which lead to peace, quietness, and inner well being and a sense of rest and relief from anxiety- well, these things are all wrapped up in One being. He is Our Peace.
He brings us peace. The things which lead to peace are not hard to find. He is not hard to find.

And that's what I'm seeing, right in front of me, today. That's Who is knocking at the door of my heart- and I see Him, and I'm taking a deep breath of peace. It feels good.

At the Car Wash

Continuing on with paradoxes and the problems and peculiarities associated with paradoxes, Harry desperately needs to go to the groomer- and the groomer is the last place he should go right now. Harry is too anxious to be separated from me for even one moment. I know this for a fact. The way Harry handles problems is to completely reveal how upset he is in whatever way seems natural to him. That's all I'll say there. He's a wreck.

But he's always been a sensitive dog. That's why he had three owners and one foster mother before he came to be our sweet furry boy. Sensitive dogs (and people) need sensitivity. And Life just doles out punches, kicks, hard times, good times, anxious times, Instability. Harry feels unstable. Yet he's matted, needs a good bath and a complete clipping- and he'd need to go to that dreaded place, the groomers, to get it all done.

Hmmm. What should I do? I'm tempted to ask the pet store where he goes to get clipped if I could leave him in the grooming room, yet croon a soothing tune to him over the store loudspeaker and see if my voice keeps him calm enough to bear the unbearable.

I got my car oil changed yesterday, and that means my car got a free car wash at the same time. I just love the place where I take my car- they made it so easy to get routine work done on your car by sweetening the venture with free hot coffee, news on the overhead T.V. in the waiting room, and then a free car wash after your oil is changed. I always watch the car go through the different stations and never tire of the seeing the process of something grimy transforming into something sparkling clean.

The last small chunk of snow in my front yard is about to disappear today. The sun is out and it should get warm enough today (in the 40's?) to melt that last bit of winter away. I feel like a kid again with all the possibilities that Spring brings. I hope to impart that sense of hope and excitement to Harry- enough to get him through the process of being transformed, himself, from smelly matted dog to the clipped little lamb that he is. At least in my eyes he is. I see him for the sweet sensitive soul that he is.

What we have to go through in order to become sweet smelling and beautiful may be a bit arduous. I think of the different brushes and cleaning wands and hanging cloths at the car wash whirling around and soaping and buffeting the car and then buffing it until its clean and I can feel like that car at times. There can be an agony and an angst as all this buffing and cleaning and purifying goes on.

Perhaps as we go through the process of getting cleaned up, God delights in not only seeing what emerges in the end, but in how beautiful the process, in and of itself, is. It's called Transformation. Redemption. Renewal. Hope.

And if we can see this process as a beautiful one, it just might be because we can hear God's voice whispering to us, or even singing to us over the heavenly loudspeaker, even as we're getting buffeted and cleaned and blessed enough to come out of the mess into the Son shine.

Simply Irresistible!

Another winter storm has hit our area and we have yet to find out if this will be anything significant or if it will just be a day of shoveling and ice removal and then we're back to normal. Normal, for us here in the North, is a variety of things, but one thing it's not is sunshine and sweet breezes. Not in the winter, at least.

When I brought up the topic of vulnerability the other day, I guess I was indirectly trying to grapple with the issue of "What is normal or healthy?" concerning vulnerability, and there was some resulting comments that made us look at two things. There's our vulnerability to people, and then there's vulnerability with God.

I'm not so sure the word transparency is exactly equal in meaning with the word vulnerability, and I bring that up only because Christians seem to value some degree of transparency and accountability with each other. Scripture seems to indicate we should have the type of relationships where there is some give and take going on in what we see in each other, how we help each other (remembering to take the plank out of our own eye first before we remove the splinter in some one's eye, for example).

I've been transparent with people, some times more than others, in some settings more than in other settings. I've been glad I've been transparent, and then there have been times I wasn't rosy with joy at the outcome when I shared freely. That's life. That's how the cookie crumbles, I think. But I've never really doubted that transparency and relational honesty isn't good for me. I know its a good thing.

Being vulnerable with people is, I think, a whole 'nother thing. The word suggests a complete openness and exposure of self as in the case of a deer out in an open field on the first day of hunting season. Nothing glorious or good would happen to that deer based on its vulnerability to the hunters.

But with God, I would dare to be that deer in the open field and let Him be the hunter. He doesn't hunt with a gun. God is the Hound of Heaven after our heart. He's the lover of our soul and I don't think we're aware of that enough. If we were, we would be freely open and trusting and expose all of who we are to Him.

I don't think we make ourselves vulnerable with God unless we are absolutely assured that nothing negative can come from this act. If we make ourselves vulnerable with friends or family, or are exposed to human opinion and perspective, our vulnerability can result in some negative, terrible outcomes as well as positive beautiful results.

But there is nothing negative, hurtful or damaging- ever- that occurs when we make ourselves vulnerable with God. It is absolutely impossible to receive harm from Him when we are drawing close to Him. And one thought that I recently had due to something I heard in one of Dave Schmelzer's sermons is that God is attracted to our faith exerted, to our reaching out for Him. He finds our faith almost "irresistible".

Perhaps one aspect, one flavor of faith, is vulnerability. God might just find our vulnerability irresistible. I expose my weaknesses in God's sight and I bring myself before Him without any hiding, fudging, twisting of the truth. I make myself vulnerable and open before God. I do this out of faith. I might initially want to shrink back and not do this (make myself vulnerable) if I fear a "Holy God of Wrath" and do not see Him as the Abba Father who makes us right in His sight, who knows all about my weaknesses before I have verbally shared with Him what I painfully "see" about myself. But we are not of those who shrink back and are afraid, Scripture says. We are not.

We are bold as a lion, and as wide open before Him as trusting children who fear absolutely nothing from the One who loves them without end. It's a joy to be vulnerable when you are with Someone who can not, in their own nature, take advantage of your state and make you rue the day you trusted Him. THAT will never happen when you make yourself vulnerable to God.

All this to let you know that I have enjoyed the most amazing week or two. I've had more joy and lightness of being than I've had in a long time. Not that any major big things have happened, but there's been an increasing pull towards God's perspective of me and an accompanying willingness on my part to go for broke, loosen up and let it all out. With God. I'm not sure that I'm sharing any more than I normally do, or that I'm being any more honest with Him than I normally am.

It's more that I'm sharing everything with Him in a way that speaks boldness and trust even as I am wide open and exposed. I'm conscious that I am willingly making myself vulnerable in His presence. And yet there's a sense that He drew me in with absolute reassurance that nothing but good would come from this type of engagement with Him.

God made it a win-win situation for me. He's just too amazing for words.

All Kinds of Victory

The last couple nights I have slept terribly. I wake up with a throbbing heavy head, feeling exhausted and confused. Can't remember what I dreamt. There are no symbols or images in my mind to help me understand what I was grappling with in my sleep. Whatever answer I was trying to find, I didn't find it in my dreams.

I spent yesterday sighing a lot. Not good. For me that is the tinge of something near to depression. But its just a tinge; like a spot of mold on your cheddar cheese, and you decide it's only a spot and wipe it off...and then eat the rest of the cheese. And so yesterday I kept wiping off that tinge of darkness that hovered near me. I kept going over lessons with Abby, giving her a vocab test, making us a healthy lunch, running out to the post office and then grocery store later in the afternoon. But I did all this with the sheerest of determination and grit- like a cowboy on a dry dusty trail who finds out the trail is longer than he expected and so he digs in, he keeps going, but he feels lost.


It didn't help that in the morning I was reading the early news about the election results, and I was scanning forums and sites where people were writing words of exultation as well as scathing words of hostility, viciousness, and attack . One man won a presidency, there was a victory-and yet there was a lot of alarm, fear, and despair. I tried not to let this plague of distress enter my newly found grateful-thankful mindset...but it did. I felt my optimism and my happy outlook burst like a balloon that was shot at by a nasty little boy with a slightly evil grin. Even at the grocery store, it seemed like people were rude and mean, and children were out of control and screaming and flailing. One little boy was threatening to run out in the road and the mother was nervously trying to placate him as well as keep him alive at the same time.

"I never had to do that," I told Abby as we headed to the car with our groceries.

"Never had to do what?" she asked.

"I never had to worry about Alex acting up and throwing tantrums and terrifying strangers who passed by. He was a pretty mild kid," I paused in my reverie and then smiled at her. "But he made up for all that in his teenage years, didn't he?!". I wanted her to know that I try not to idealize the past. There are all kinds of pasts: the recent past, the real past, the long-ago past, the past that never really occurred but we keep thinking it did.

Here's why I often return to the past- cause that's when I can see God's hand, His presence, a lot better than I can see it in my "now". Like right now, I know He's with me, that He's for me, but is He in front of me paving the way? Because I often feel like I am in uncharted territory, stumbling forward only to look back for His approval of my direction and seeing that He is not there.

"Why do you look for the living among the dead?...He is not here" the angel said (Luke 24). Why do I keep looking back to see if I can find answers for my future? My past can't help me go forward- especially if I am often repeating it! And if I repeat a lesson that I already learned, that I thought I learned, then where exactly am I- in the past, or in the future regretfully remembering the past?

Either way my feet are dogged by memory, by the good memory of seeing how God intervened, and by regret over how bad it was, over how bad I was. But at least I am pretty clear on what happened in my past. I am not clear on what is happening now. If God is in front of me paving the way, I can't see Him, that's for sure. I can't always feel His presence. I only feel my frantic beating heart on those days where I wake up in a hostile world and remember that I have to go out into it. I do hear His words, though, calling to me from up ahead: Do it afraid, Lauren. Do it afraid.

And if I stumble ahead and go grocery shopping and grade a test and make dinner- even though I'm thinking Does any of this matter- if I do all this feeling wretched and dry and short on air, I find that this pleases Him. This. It's so ironic. I feel queasy and unstable- but He sees, instead, a beautiful sight. He calls it....Faith.

"And without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is and that He is a rewarder of those who seek Him"(Hebrews 11:6). It's just that it seems God always wants to reward me with more opportunities to get to know Him, more chances to stumble ahead, and that's not exactly the Reward I had in mind.

I had in mind a warm blanket and a soft chair; a chance to exult in my recent victory of faith (Lord, I was grateful and optimistic for three whole days!). I had in mind a soothing, "Well done, my child". And instead I hear Him say- from ahead- "Now let's go onward, shall we?".

And so that's what I do.

Ride it Out

If you feel like you're in a sea of trouble, you just might be. It doesn't ever help for someone to tell you that you're not at risk... when you really are. I haven't even read the headlines this morning nor has the stock market opened and plunged further. But I already know I'm at risk. We all are.

That's why I'm remembering how my daughter Abby tackled the waves on a cold, gray day this past summer vacation- and how my husband and my son and I sat on the beach and watched her. My idea was to stay safe on the beach, dry but not warm, because the wind was fierce and angry that day. Her idea was to go right into the foam and fuss of it all and experience it that way.

I think that's all I can say today. It's another cold, gray fall morning, and I'm remembering that cold, gray summer day at the beach not too long ago. I'm remembering that the beach was almost deserted, that the wind chilled us down to the bones, and that my daughter entered in to the sea and rode the waves and smiled because she was not afraid.

"Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand." Is. 41:10

Read the Headlines

I wonder if we Americans are really in touch with the raging undercurrent of economic anxiety this nation is feeling. This past week I was dealing with my own situational concerns: a son sick with potential pneumonia based 13 hours away at college, a highly sensitive dog who had to be clipped down to the skin at the Groomers, a home schooled teenage daughter in need of more social interaction and who was just plain tired of me being her teacher- after only three weeks of home schooling.

I was aware of the news headlines, the dire straights that certain banks were in, the predicament that we all are in- but I couldn't do anything about these big, huge economic concerns. My own concerns were in front of me, and I was just trying to figure out what was required of me. What was I supposed to do, and what was I supposed to let God handle?

In the end, I saw my son miraculously recover from what would normally have taken chest x-rays and antibiotics to deal with. I saw my daughter end the school week yesterday with a smile on her face after a jaunt to the local mall with a friend and then an easy supper of pizza and wings where Bill, Abby and I enjoyed what I call our "happy meal" and Harry calls his sad meal- because he doesn't get a scrap of anything. When I say that this dog is delicate, you have no idea. The least bit of a change to his diet, and we all know in a very pungent way that he can't handle the change.

The changes in our nation right now are so upsetting and nauseating to so many that I imagine many have not been able to sleep or eat, much less have a happy meal. Our family already lives at a higher risk level than some families do because my husband is self-employed, we have no pension or retirement fund, and we've journeyed this way for so long now that I am used to the constant underlying pressure of living close to the edge financially. I don't enjoy it nor do I ever welcome it with open arms, but I have fully accepted that this is how we travel, so to speak- a bit like vagabonds living in a comfy suburban world with strange, out-of-this world beliefs that are best expressed in verses from melodies like "God will make a way, where there seems to be no way" and "Jehoval Jireh, My Provider, His Grace is sufficient for me".

But I still feel the tension and the wobbliness of what's going on nationally, economically, politically. There's a great amount of fear in our nation that's trying to go undetected so that the tidal wave of crisis and change doesn't become unnecessarily bigger than what it has to be. I think we want to be brave and stoic but many of us feel vulnerable, at risk more than ever, and shaky- whether we're employed, retired, unemployed, self-employed or just starting out.

I think this might be a good place to be- in touch with reality, in touch with the fact that we've never been so high and mighty that we've eliminated Risk and secured the big Guarantee. We don't want to feel vulnerable, but since when have we not been exposed to situations bigger than our control, mountains seemingly impossible to climb, rough choppy seas that should overwhelm a tiny boat?

This is walking-on-water time. Being in your little boat isn't any safer when you're in the midst of a turbulent, thrashing storm. I think walking on water may just be the thing we were born to do. It may just be exactly what God has called us to do- anytime we are tempted to hold back and hole up. Instead, God says, Hold On...to Me.

How to Make Him Smile

You never know when something is an opportunity or a distraction until you do a bit of investigation. We received a letter in the mail, recently, saying that someone referred my daughter, Abby, to a local girl's pageant. It was a bit confusing, the letter. It seemed like it was talking about a type of beauty pageant- only they made references to it being a pageant based on personality. Hmmmm. Only one way to find out what this was all about: we decided to go to the information meeting. It was set for Saturday.

It turns out that it was not something we would get involved with- for many reasons. But we did have an enjoyable experience watching what was presented, listening to the details, and investigating what the bottom line was all about.

As we drove home, my daughter explained what the personal interview was like. She was told she needed to walk towards the panel of judges with her eyes on them, projecting confidence, and then sit down while they asked her three questions. It all happened within a couple minutes, she said. (And they were going to evaluate on just that?)

"Did you maintain eye contact with the judges as you walked toward them?" I asked.

"Yes, " she said. "Only they weren't looking at me. They were scribbling notes on a piece of paper, probably notes about the girl who had just gone before me. They didn't see that I was looking at them." My daughter is pretty discerning about the way life is: that first impressions are noted, that people do judge a book by its cover, and that she really isn't into "all that". So we headed to the community pool for some fun in the sun, and put all this pageant stuff behind us.

It was interesting, though, this morning, when I was reading in Hebrews chapter 4 and 5. We are not to have "an evil heart of unbelief". And with confidence, we are told to "come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need". To come boldly means to come without reservation, with unreserved utterance, candor, cheerful courage. Why would we be cheerful and courageous in approaching God with our requests for help? Why would we have our eyes on Him, expectant and hopeful, as we walk towards Him- just as my daughter did when she approached the panel of judges?

Could it be that cheerful courage is the sign, the external evidence, that we know Whom we have believed in and are persuaded that He is able to keep that which we have committed to Him- our faith, our trust, our reliance on Him?(2 Tim. 1:12) Now, those judges did not see my daughter looking confidently at them. They are human. They miss things. We all do.

But God never misses a saint looking expectantly at Him- never! But sadly true as well is the fact that He sees when we have averted our eyes, when we have failed to trust Him, failed to believe that He is our Help in times of trouble. "'...O you of little faith!' What a stinging pain must shoot through the disciples as they surely thought to themselves, "We missed the mark again!'. And what a sharp pain will go through us when we realize that we could have produced complete and utter joy in the heart of Jesus by remaining absolutely confident in Him, in spite of what we were facing"(My Utmost for His Highest 8/12).

The thought that I could produce joy in the heart of Jesus by letting Him see my eyes are on Him, my confidence is in Him, and I am walking towards Him expectant of His available help- well, that makes my day! I'm all set to go out and bring a smile of joy to Him by simply letting Him see that no where but Him do my eyes rest, no One but Him do I trust in to make me able to run this race and not be weary, to walk courageously onward and not faint.

He Leadeth Me

It often comes down to one word- expectation. What we expect, we look for. What we expect to receive, we get ready to receive: our hands are out, our hands are open, our eyes are raised heavenward.

My expectation, lately, has been that I will get through "this"; "this" referring to the flood of small take-downs that have occurred these last couple months. I got a call from the doctor the other day and he said, "You don't have Mono again; but you do have a very low red blood cell count. I can see why you almost fainted the other day." It was nice to have someone confirm that you are not a wilting violet of your own volition, but rather, sometimes life comes at you hard and you fall down.

"We fall down and we get up, we fall down and we get up; and the saints are just the sinners who fall down...and get up." Yes, that's the song for me, right now. That beautiful chorus is going through my mind- and with that soothing chorus going through my mind I won't let my heart be troubled by the events and disturbances I recently went through.

You see, I had asked God, several months ago, to confirm what direction I should take, where to go and what to do. I thought God was going to answer my request by leading me directly TO the right place, the right setting. But no, God decided to confirm the direction for me to take by confirming where I don't belong, what I should not be concentrating on, what isn't working in my life.

I never requested that God lead me through only positive events- but that's because I just didn't think that leading someone onward and upward would ever necessitate leading them through painful or negative circumstances. I just simply,and maybe naively, asked Him to lead me- and then some surprising encounters happened, some upsetting events occurred, and I was dismayed and surprised and floored by it all. I shouldn't have been. I should have expected that I would wind up quoting what Job said: "But He knows the way that I take; When He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold" (Job 23:10).

Why God deems it necessary to refine and try us, I'm not real sure. I do see that something glorious does happen when we are roughed up by upsetting events and difficult circumstances: I see that the troubling events we go through cause us to trust Him MORE. During these difficult times we often see Him more clearly because we are desperately looking for Him. These tough times are, indeed, tinged with His glory, and therefore could even be called glorious- because HE is WITH us, and He has something good in mind when we are tried and refined. He has a glorious outcome in mind.

God is not a Sadist. He takes no pleasure in our suffering. But He does take pleasure in seeing us learn to differentiate good from evil, and in our learning to value His help, value His perspective, and therefore not be dismayed when trouble rocks our boat. Trouble may rock our boat, but He guides the boat.

My boat has been rocking, lately. I've been surprised by difficult times- and my health is the least of the problems. Feeling faint and weak (part of being Anemic) only adds to me feeling needy and ready for God's help.

But feeling expectant that His help is coming- and that even though the going has been rough, that His help has already come- well, that makes me stay in my rocky boat with my hands stretched out, my eyes heavenward, expectant of His whisper of a wind that will nudge my boat onward, safely, to the shore.

Comfort Food

The best comfort food, for me, is an omelette of mushrooms, onions, and Swiss cheese, with toast (the kind of buttered toast that actually crunches loudly when you bite into it) and tangerine-orange juice. That's perfect comfort food for your every morning, and it's generally what I eat almost every weekday morning. (Weekends I just have coffee, first thing, and maybe a bit of toast). As for midday meals and midnight comfort food, there are other things you can eat but I can't think of what they are right now. That's because for me, mornings are the key turning point of my day. Mornings are when I need food that will satisfy my body, and spiritual food for thought that will take me onward through the day.

God's idea of comfort food is an altogether different story. When you ask God to comfort you, while He often gives that satisfying peace and consolation that is so soothing to the soul, the real comforting work of God (d0ne through the Holy Spirit) is challenging, convicting, and a bit unpleasant- at least to the initial taste. I think it's because when we ask God for comfort, we are in a predicament, or we've gone through a storm, and we are just looking for a bit of relief and consolation. He wants more than that for us.

God's idea of comfort involves the remedying of our thinking and our understanding. He wants to comfort us but not placate us or keep us as foolish children making the same mistakes over and over. God's way of comforting us is to liberate us (Isaiah 61:1-2, Gal. 5:1). And for God to liberate us from bad patterns or strongholds or erroneous beliefs means He has to shake things up a little and get us out of our deadly comfort zones into His Comfort Zone of true Freedom and Progress. God comforts us with the Truth of things, not with flimsy hugs that do not open our eyes to see what we must see.

I have often asked God to comfort me, and then later on found out that I really asked Him to bring me to a new level of understanding. I just didn't realize at first that that was what I wanted. We ask God, often, for things that we think are good for us, and fortunately God answers us by giving us what we are asking for along with what we forgot to ask for. After all, we don't know what we do not yet know. We don't always know where we are lacking. We don't always see when we are asking for a touch of something when we really should be asking for a flood of it. Asking boldly and riotously, even.

When I comfort my children, my instinct is to soothe and to settle them down. When my daughter is sick, I make lots of hot tea, toast, and pile on warm blankets, lots of reassurance that she doesn't need to worry about a thing, and that I will take care of everything while she is "down for the count". When my son is sick, he just wants to sleep and enjoys me feeding him, dispensing the medicine, and generally letting him be. I know how to comfort my kids. And now that they're on the mend, they're back to pushing away my maternal smotherings.

But when I want God to comfort me, I am now asking , directly, for something different. He sees that I've grown up a little and that I am not expecting His comforting touches like I used to. Now I am expecting His comforting presence and His power- and He is expecting me to understand that He wants to comfort me in a way that might not initially feel good.

When He sheds light on a situation, I see things that I may not want to see. When He teaches me to discern- because we are commanded to- I may have to deal with what I am now "seeing". There will be decisions to make, and there will be a type of navigation through uncharted stormy seas that I would never, on my own, decide to go through.

But He comforts me. He comforts me with His counsel and His challenge that I must grow up and go up...higher. Mountain climbers cannot stay in a tent and have comforting massages all day. No, they have to get up, gear up, and set their sights on that peak that is calling them. They are comforted by the fact that their job is to climb mountains. Their calling is to go up higher. And like that mountain climber, God's presence and His whispers of instruction are so comforting to my soul, that my shaky knees take heart, and I too take a deep breath, and get ready to climb...higher.

What's Ahead?

It's Friday, gray and almost rainy. It's the conclusion of many things and the beginning of some wonderful new things. That's life in general; and that's how my personal life seems to be right now. We're winding up some things, nearing the completion of my son's senior year of high school, anticipating the beginning of some new things, and feeling surprisingly at peace in the midst of all this change.

If there's anything that I've gotten used to- it's the fact that things are always changing. The good and bad of that? New, good things can spring up like a gorgeous flower that suddenly appears. The bad thing about change: you're in a constant state of trying to internally prepare and it's hard to prepare for what you do not know, do not yet see.

I think about that favorite verse of many- in Jeremiah- that underscores what I'm dealing with currently:

Jer. 29:11 (NIV) "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

In the Message version, we see this aspect of God's heart for His people, His concern that they KNOW what He is up to :

10-11This is God's Word on the subject: "As soon as Babylon's seventy years are up and not a day before, I'll show up and take care of you as I promised and bring you back home. I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for.

I just love how the Message version singles out the underlying truth that God is expressing here: He knows what He is doing! He has "it all planned out". He's got a way for us to take. And His intention is that we KNOW He is leading us, guiding us- into the unknown, yes, but into His grace and His care and His plan as well.

For those who are in the midst of change, those who are about to graduate and go on to something new, those who are about to move or about to change roles, whatever the change is- we've got a God who knows what He is doing. Prosperity- in this case- is the full realization of God's abounding grace and provision in such a way that we can look forward, look up, and greet the future with a sense of adventure and awe. Because what God has in mind is, ultimately, good.

Under the Sunlight

Yesterday Mu and I met for breakfast. We tried to not overstay our welcome at the restaurant, and after an hour or so, we took our conversation out into the parking lot. We stood there, talking, letting the sun warm us from the tips of our heads to our toes.

"Now I know why the Druids- was it the Druids?- worshipped the sun. I mean, isn't this sunlight incredible after a long winter?" she said.

I teased her about going pagan on me but I could laugh about this because my friend Mu is very sincere about digging into God's truth, asking good questions, searching for wisdom.

We were feeling light-hearted and happy yesterday. She celebrated the resolution our family had come to: our son, Alex, was going off to the college of his choice, far away, down south- and right where he should be. It all came together. God closed some doors and opened wide this door- and though this college is 13 hours away by car, it is dear to my heart already. When Alex and I visited in January we felt "at home" there, and the Media Communications program there is tops. My son is going to "go for it" and I'm whooping it up and celebrating this open road before him. I'll cry, later, when I miss him. But now it's time to anticipate how good it will be.

In the afternoon, I visited "Mother Joy"- a woman on our Women's LIFE Ministry Team. This lady is an older woman of faith, a bold explorer, a joy and a delight. She is recuperating after a fall. But this woman- though she is ...shall we say "advanced in years"?- is young at heart. I came to visit her and encourage her in her recovery, but she bolstered my spirits, my resolve to be a trooper for the Lord. I won't even list all the things she's been through, and yet she sits there, smiling, proclaiming how good God has been to her. Her joy is evidence that she has experienced the "goodness of God in the land of the living"- because this woman is alive in her faith, her expectation of good. And because she believes that she will receive good from God, she is quick to perceive it.

One of my favorite verses having to do with joy and fruitful living is Psalm 128:2 -
"You shall eat the fruit of the labor of your hands; you shall be happy, and it shall be well with you."

Obviously there are seasons in our life that we feel more well than at other times. There are times when we are reaping after years of sowing- such as parents who after 18 years are seeing their child go off to college, full of hope and expectation.

Then there are seasons in our life that we just want to get through. Sometimes I am about to rejoice over a victory and I remember a problem that I have. That's when I admonish myself, "Lauren- you shall be happy, and it shall be well with you." My part in the picture is to fully relish being a child of God who has no doubt that God can work it all out...in His timing...in His perfect plan.

My active faith sometimes requires me to spend time out in the sunshine, relishing the warmth and the joy I feel in that moment, knowing that it's part of God's plan for me to know how good I have it. I have a good God who loves me, is watching over me. I can trust Him. My responsibility is to perceive how His light makes the path before me become clear. I'm not supposed to live in darkness. And every chance I get to experience the sunlight, to lift my face to its warmth in gratitude, I'm supposed to remember the God who thought up the whole idea of light, of a shining sun that warms the earth. I'm supposed to remember that I haven't even begun to understand the warmth and the generosity of His loving heart toward me.

The Look Says it All

This is Mr. Woodhouse, Emma's father in that famous Jane Austen book, EMMA. He cracks me up. This guy is hysterically neurotic but very much out there with all his neuroses and fears. At least we can tell where he is at. We don't have a picture of a strong jawline and mental sobriety and then find out the guy is a fearful wimp. No, we can tell straight off what he is like.

I think I look like him- on one of my bad days. This is what I look like when I've had a scare about something. The look of fear or alarm is not a pretty sight. Unfortunately, there are enough things to alarm us in this world that we could have plenty of opportunities to wear this face.

I would rather look like this woman; I mean, have this look on my face:

Now this is a quiet , pensive look, a relaxed, thoughtful look that shows Emma to be gently contemplating something. Gently, I say.

I have been doing a little gentle thinking, myself, lately- but I have a ways to go before I look like her. Still, if I sort through some issues in my life, look at the goals I've had and determine if I am anywhere close to reaching them, I might have a look on my face that is close to hers. I want to be vigorous in my questing after important, worthy goals, but I don't want to look panicked and fearful about where I am at. More than looks, I want to have the reality of inner confidence and conviction of truth inside me.

I want to be as bold as a lion (Prov. 28:1)- not timid or besieged by fear. But as far as Heaven is concerned, when God looks down, I hope He sees the smiling face of a relaxed, trusting lamb.

Austen Mania Explained

Masterpiece Classic, February 10, 17, & 23 at 9 p.m. EST

I only watched part of Masterpiece Theatre's Pride and Prejudice last night. I've seen this movie so many times I can repeat the lines from several scenes, word for word. Next to Persuasion and Sense and Sensibility, this movie is one of my favorites.

Whether you're into Jane Austen's books and regency romances or not, you should notice that there's a bit of mania going on lately about this world of quiet romance, bucolic countryside, and grand houses filled with people dining or dancing. I've read a couple of Austen-like novels recently. And I think there'll be more coming- more books and movies and maybe even T shirts that read "Austen Addict" or "Give me Mr. Darcy or I'll Die!".

I'm not saying that I'm an Austen Addict, but I can see why people are flocking to these books and these movies, eager to escape this world we are in. In our world, houses are not filled with beautiful sculptures and long dining room tables with the help waiting to serve you your tea. In our world, we don't have men in white ruffled shirts who know how to politely converse with a woman, watching their language and their tone of voice lest some damsel feel distraught.

Yes, there were a lot of horrific things happening in the days of Jane Austen, but those were not highlighted in her books. Instead, we see scenes of lively conversations and strolls through the vast fields behind grand houses. We feel the love that is expressed between a certain two who are aware of something between them. We get to be enveloped in a beautiful world where it is quiet, at times, and slower paced.

Maybe,more than anything, it's this quieter life that we long for. Whispered conversations while sitting on a bench, chatting with a friend while walking arm in arm, sipping tea with a loved one and not having to rush off to our next appointment.

As it is, it's supper time and there is no hired help, so off I must go to make the meal. Harry is barking loudly, outside, wanting to come in. I have to do several loads of laundry. And I promised I would make a banana bread for Bill and the kids. So no more musing here about Jane Austen's blissful world.

Besides, true bliss is having your future secured, your past forgiven, your today covered with His overflowing grace. I'm sure that the Lord is the One I should turn to- not Jane Austen- to get what my heart is longing for.

"He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters. He restores my soul..." Psalm 23:2,3

Battle Song

Yesterday afternoon, after church, Abby and I went grocery shopping. I don't normally have the radio on but this time I was playing a worship CD. We approached the supermarket and the song, "God is in control" was rising to a crescendo. I was driving with one hand on the wheel, the other hand waving around, lifted upwards. I sang out the words with gusto.

"Mom, do you have to be so....loud?" Abby asked, noticing the other drivers looking at us as we pulled into the parking lot.

"Would you rather I be somber and quiet?" I asked her with a smile. I had a quick flashback to all the times I was with my mom and she got exuberant in her faith. I remember wishing I could shrink into the seat. Now I realize my Mom was singing her battle song- and many times she sung it completely by faith, by absolute will to keep pressing in for the strength and power God would offer her.

One of my favorite verses from the Psalms is "Sounds of rejoicing resound in the tents of the righteous" (Psalm 118"15). Or in my case, they often resound in my car while I'm driving. Often I'll shout and sing as though the walls of oppression fall down depending on the decibel level of my song of praise going up.

But I wasn't singing or shouting on Thursday. As the plane took off for Kentucky, on Thursday afternoon, what I was telling God quietly was this: I believe you, Lord. I believe in You. I trust you. I was not asking God to do anything for me because I knew that there was something I needed to do first. "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusteth in thee". This is what I wanted to do for God- believe Him. Trust Him.

We arrived in the little college town and got dropped off at the bed and breakfast I was staying at. (Alex was going to stay in the dorm). It was cold, dark, and quiet. But when Alex and I walked to the campus and entered the upstairs meeting room where all the prospective students and admission reps were gathered, we walked into a warm, welcoming environment. The DVD they showed about the college made me feel like my son would come alive at this school. I started to see that this weekend was going to reveal some interesting things, answer some questions we had about where we each belonged, and what we did with our gifts and our abilities.

The next morning, I went down to the little dining room at the B&B for breakfast. The sun was streaming in. I sat down at a long table and within minutes was enveloped in conversation about children, college choices, the spiritual environment of the school. People shared their church backgrounds and what ministries they were involved in. These were my brothers and sisters in Christ. I had only just met them, and immediately we were fellowshipping. We were each sharing our story of where we were at, what we were hoping for, what were involved with.

Later that morning, on campus, Alex and I went to chapel. The sun streamed in through the stained glass windows, flooding the old chapel with warmth and light. On the pulpit, a contemporary worship team was belting out their song with passion, singing out their heart to God. Then the guest speaker got up to share a message. And as he spoke, God spoke to my heart as well......

(To be continued)

Searching for Home in a World on the Move

My husband, Bill, and I had our first date when he came to my parents' house to see me during a college winter break. We went downstairs to the finished basement, a rec room with old furniture and a ping-pong table. We sat on the old brown couch with nubby fabric, sharing our hopes and dreams with each other. I remember feeling comfortable and safe with Bill. I remember the somewhat pungent smell of the old couch. And I remember when we talked how we both were aching for home- a home of our own. He wanted to build a house, and I wanted to nest in one, decorate it, and fill it with all the things that would make me smile with joy.

What we wound up doing instead, after we were married, was moving- a lot. We moved twenty times in twenty-three years of marriage. The early moves were due to seminary housing constraints and internships in pastoral ministry. Then the moves were to small pastorates in New England in hopes of revitalizing them. After finally deciding to leave the renewal ministry, we needed to find a way to make a living. So we entered the world of rehabbing houses: buying a home, moving into it, fixing it up, and selling it. We were young. We were hopeful. And we kept moving onward.

If someone had told me when I, Lauren the Homebody, was a child, that I would marry and spend the next twenty plus years in a continual state of moving onward but never really settling down, I would have barricaded myself in my room and dared someone to drag me out of there! But God knew the journey He had for me. The Lord knew the temptation I had to make my home base my refuge- to the point that I might never want to venture out.

Many of us struggle with this. After all, we live in a precarious world. Ever since 9/11, Americans have been increasingly aware of feeling at risk in a scary world. Some people escape from the stress and the tension of our times by imagining that perfect home they can create, the place where they will, then, be safe and sound.

The rise of Jane Austen’s popularity and the demand for British dramas depicting grand homes and the sweet social graces of yesterday are not the only signs that we long for a place where we will feel at peace. Home renovation has become a national pastime, with day time cable shows covering every aspect of home revitalization, interior decorating, gourmet cooking, custom closet organization, entertaining secrets, and more.

The idea is that we can create a perfect place to come home to, subtly implying that then we will experience comfort and security, the promise of perfect peace. Then we will have no fears, no insecurity, no alarm. (And we have our intricate, expensive home security systems to help with this!)

We, as Christians, know where our perfect peace should be. We know it’s in Him, our Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. Sometimes, though, we want something more concrete to touch, to look at, to nest in. Sometimes we want a tangible fortress, a secure, rock solid home. The Psalmist shares how we all long for the place where we will be eternally comforted, protected and at peace- in the presence of the living God.

“How lovely is your dwelling place, O LORD Almighty! My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the LORD; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God. Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young— a place near your altar, O LORD Almighty, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you” (Psalm 84:1-4 NIV).

Sometimes waiting to get to His House, our eternal home, is too much waiting for us. We want to nest and find our complete security in our home, right now.

I’ve had many nests in many places. When I look back at each time we would get ready to move, I realize the thing that kept me going, that enabled me to make it through that draining process of packing and moving, was the fact that I looked forward to my next house. I envisioned it beautifully decorated with gleaming new fixtures and warm welcoming rooms. I held that image in my mind as a child clutches its security blanket.

I believe God has allowed me to be stretched in this area of moving and learning to make every house we lived in a temporary home. He desires to see me enlarged in my focus, in my longing.

God knows the desire we have to settle down, to feel safe and secure at home. He gave us this “nesting” desire. But our frenzied pursuit of the perfect home could very well be an indication that we haven’t fully rested all our hope on the Eternal Home we have ahead of us. This desire for nesting, for making a house into a home, is an indicator of our heart’s true desire. It’s an appetite for an eternal safety and security, really. We will find it realized fully on the day we stand in awe of Him, having arrived at our final Home.

Until then, I pursue with delight the things that help turn each house into a home. I enjoy baking bread and pies, decorating with vivid colors, having an afternoon teatime with my beautiful antique cups and saucers. I creatively plan how to beautify each house. I do the best that I can with each house we live in.

But no home will ever satisfy me perfectly and eternally. That Home awaits me, and I keep my eyes heavenward ... every time we move.