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.

The Real Thing

Peace to you all!

I feel like a hippie from the sixties, when I say that. But they didn't have a monopoly on the concept of peace, nor a perfect understanding of it. I refuse to let it be an expression pertaining to only them.

Jesus said, "I am leaving you at peace. I am giving you my own peace. I am not giving it to you as the world gives. So don't let your hearts be troubled, and don't be afraid." (John 14:27)

If you get a moment's peace from your kids' fighting and bickering, it might really be just a moment. If your marriage enjoys some peace, it might be because there have been no "issues" that have recently arisen. And if the world experiences a ceasefire in some region of some country, the fighting will cease for a season, but just for a season.

There is no lasting peace in this world. There is no lasting peace created by the world. There's only One person who not only holds continual peace for you, but who IS actual Peace, Himself. But if you feel frustrated that you haven't tapped into His peace, remember: He doesn't give it the way the world gives it.

If Jesus left you with peace, HE LEFT YOU WITH PEACE. Don't let anyone take it away from you. He gave you peace of heart and mind. It is flavored and imbued with His essence. Christ was never alarmed or fretful when He walked this earth. He was presented with many opportunities and reasons to be anxious or upset, but He did not give in to anxiety or agitation. So if He says He gave you peace, this is a quality Peace He has given you! This is an abiding powerful peace that you can rest upon and lean on and cling to and soak in!

It's YOURS-- He gave it to you. And He hasn't changed His mind. It's still yours. You see, the world and your kids and your daily problems will give you a moment's peace or a bit of peace now and then, but they can't give you lasting peace. They really can't even GIVE you peace, period, because they did not create the concept of peace nor are they able to hand you the actual substance of peace.

HE IS OUR PEACE, the Bible tells us. If I want God's continual presence in my life, then I should also expect the manifestation of peace. I can walk in peace even in unsettling circumstances. I can lay hold of this peace with my mind set on receiving what has already been given to me.

I will not be anxious or troubled. Say that again. I will not fear. I will not be anxious or troubled. I HAVE HIS PEACE.

"Great peace have they who love your law, and nothing can make them stumble," Psalm 119:165 tells us. What kind of peace have you been given? Great peace. Abundant peace. You're in good standing. You won't fall or stumble about. You are not orphaned or without resources. You are not in hot water! If you have Peace, you have the promise of His love, His favor.

You've got the peace that passes understanding, which means that people won't be able to figure out why you're so relaxed, so expectant of good, so capable of not only making it through the day, but making it through the day like the day was made just for you.

This is the day the Lord has made, and yes, we can be glad in it-- because we've got peace like a river. I know the source of the river. But as to where my peace goes, that remains to be seen.

You see, I'm taking it with me, wherever I go.

Let's Chat about That

Fearless. Just the word itself makes you stand tall and boldly. Read Max Lucado's new book, Fearless, and you'll really get charged up. If he never did anything more than feel the need to address this crushing tidal wave that infiltrates society and our homes and our lives, he did a good thing. But of course Max Lucado did more than contemplate the topic of fear- he went on to write another solid book that many will love and savor and return to, time and again, when the force of fear strikes.

Chapter One was my favorite. I love how he depicts the story of Jesus and the disciples in the boat, and Jesus' "premeditated slumber...In full knowledge of the coming storm, Jesus decided it was siesta time...". Can you grasp that fact without seeing Jesus as heartless? If anything, maybe it was in view of our becoming bold and stout hearted that Jesus slumbers through a storm so our fears will arise and speak out and be known. He does want to know what we are afraid of. He can handle it. And He will handle it- whatever it is that is crushing us with fear.

One of the best lines of the book, and it's in chapter one, is when Lucado voices for us our problem with how fear takes hold of us- sometimes even as we are calling out to God. "We begin to wonder if love lives in heaven."

"If God can sleep in our storms, if his eyes stay shut when our eyes grow wide, if he permits storms after we get on his boat, does he care?" Yes, He cares- and somehow we've got to ask for Him to demonstrate this. He does not get offended when we do this.

For us to know that Love does indeed live in heaven, and that this Love will see us through what we go through on earth, we've got to tell God everything we fear. It's not just your blessings that you should count, it's also your fears- and perhaps its best if we "Name them one by one."

We've been told that what you concentrate on grows bigger. But it's also true that what you hide in the corner of your mind and heart surges in reality. Nothing goes away by pretending it is not there.

So tell God your fears. Talk about them with Him. It just may be that the more you tell God everything on your heart, that you will wind up being the one slumbering blissfully as He handles the raging storm around you.

When You're Unclear ........................... about Faith, Doubt, Fear

On a more serious note (well, certainly more serious than how to avoid baking disasters - see last post) I never realized how many forms of unbelief were out there. And not just "out there" but in me as well. Seeds of doubt and seeds of faith have been germinating deep inside me and now I'm paying the price for this ruinous combination.

You just can't go forward in life- when you're taking steps backwards at the same time. Without realizing it, I have been participating in a dance where confident belief takes the first step, doubt and hesitation take the next, reproach for my unbelief takes another forward step, and then downright skeptical and harsh unbelief go next. This is an ugly dance. (What can I say? Not since my disco days have I been noted for any grace on the dance floor.But back in the late '70s and early '80's, I was quite the thing, whirling around on the dance floor and feeling alive while I dance to "Staying Alive").

It isn't just making a decision about my daughter's place of schooling that has got me in a tizzy, but add to that employment and financial decisions, not to mention our house on the market and whether we should "push" harder to get it sold, and I've got a number of decisions to make. My husband and I, together, have these joint decisions, and then we each, separately, have our individual career paths to consider.

So I've been praying. Slightly pleading. And proclaiming a lot of God's promises. And then perjuring myself when I doubt and reconsider whether God is really on my side. Oh, I know He loves me and all that, but sometimes there's something in me that suspects God's love is a tortuous type that majors in trials and minors in grace.

I've been studying these words, trying to get to the root of them: Faith, Doubt, Unbelief. I never knew there were so many ways one could disbelieve God- but there are. You can downright refuse to believe, or you can start out believing and then waver in unbelief, or you can believe God and then reconsider whether you were right to believe a certain thing, or you can reconsider and suspect that God is after something else in you.

The more introverted type- such as I am- tend to do a lot of inner thinking that surges and rises and torments, and nobody knows that you are exhausting yourself to death in trying to figure out what to do, what to believe, what decision means you are operating in Faith.

There are at least four words, in the New Testament, that have to do with the word doubt or unbelief- but that have distinct definitions. You can't just tell someone not to doubt without explaining what Doubt looks like, and what Faith would mean in their situation.

There's lack of faith or being uncertain in faith- before you make a decision. Then there's a type of unbelief that has to do with lacking confidence in God's will to help you, or His ability to help you. Then there's skepticism- which causes you to reconsider your faith , your prayers that you sent up with smoke signals and lots of pleading. And then, of course, there's the worst kind of unbelief which is the obstinate refusal to believe God, a superior type of thinking that mocks God's abilities when compared to your own.

I imagine there's countless ways to believe and to disbelieve God. But at the root of our expressed faith or unbelief are the reasons why we will, won't, choose to, can't, wish we could, BELIEVE GOD. Everyone has a unique set of circumstance, personal history, mounting inner conflicts, and reasons why they are where they are- when it comes to walking in faith and moving mountains by faith.

Here's where I encourage myself. It seems God deals more stringently with those who refuse to believe or are skeptical to believe. (Repentance is the prescribed cure for these nasty expressions of arrogance or bitterness). Then there's God's gentle wooing ways with those who are confused (and we do a great job of confusing ourselves), and with those who are vacillating- like Peter who confidently stepped out of the boat, in faith, and began walking on water and THEN realized he wasn't a water-walker by birth. Faith rises up and tells us we can be more than what we were- and Doubt reminds us that what we were was, at least, safe.

So what I am now doing is every time I am battling doubt, fear, unbelief, as I try to make some big decisions, I question what is at the root of it all. Is it an issue of what I can do, or an issue of my estimation of God's ability and His will or intention towards me? Am I dragging my feet when it comes to trusting Him or am I refusing to trust? Cause where I fall and stagger, He is merciful. But where I stand and fold my arms across my chest in stubborn refusal to believe or even try, He is not pleased. He is not running towards me- because I am not running towards Him.

So never mind the actual decisions I need to make. I gotta get down to the nitty gritty root of my decision-making system. It beeps a red alert when Doubt rises and Skepticism grows. And I've got to pay attention to how I decide, not the where and the when. Because the question of Faith (do I operate by it?) is the question that's answered by how we're living right now.

Swine Flu and The Things That Matter to You

Education is good, but too much information- which can come through education- might be overwhelming. If you want to be an informed, upstanding good citizen, you should listen to the nightly news. If you want to be sane, sober minded and healthy with peace and perspective, you might not want to listen to the nightly news- at least not listen to it too much. It's a coin toss, really.

Wow, what a ride we are having in this nation. It's been a roller coaster. Between the upheaval in the economy, the drastic downturn in the stock market, the escalating unemployment rate, the horrific housing market, and now the threat of swine flu, we are all asking ourselves if we mistakenly woke up in the middle of a nightmare! And if that is the case, it seems we're trying to find a way to get back to restful sleep so that we can possibly wake up in a better part of this dream. When will things get better? Can they get better?

I'm not a medical expert, and I'm not a financial seer, and I'm not a prominent government leader with power to make some fast concrete changes that would affect the masses, so I may not seem to be anyone you should listen to. And you shouldn't listen to me if I speak from my own insight and human perspective.

But let's just see if we can tap into the great mysterious underground of God's Wisdom and Love and see if we can find something very concrete to stand on here. Nobody is looking for another Kum-by-ya song or some rote prayer or some foolish human proclamation of peace when there is no peace. It seems we're all looking for the most concrete, most grounded thing we can stand on- at least in these times.

This is not what we were looking for years ago. Years ago what we were looking for was an exhilarating ride into greatness or wealth. We were looking for fast trips and luxury and more and more things to satisfy our longing for More. Some of us were looking for career advancement, recognition. Some of us were looking for romance or for Mr. Right- and the T.V. show, The Bachelor, became a great fun way to vicariously help someone find their true love. In years past, rock solid BORING stability was not what we were looking for.

But that's what many of us are looking for now. Peaceful days. A Cook out with true friends and loved ones by our side. A glance at our kids and a sigh of relief that they're all healthy and safe. A look at our bank account and a feeling of peace that there's enough- not much- but enough, enough to pay bills. A job to go to- never mind it being a great job or having a promising future. These are the things that we are finally content with. And we're content with these simple things, now, because we're in scary times. And scary times make people take inventory of what is the most needed in their life.

I think, then, that we might possibly be in the best of possible times- only because we are grounded into reality, called upon to take an account of our life and of what is true and what is necessary and what is loved; only because we are experiencing tremors and rumblings and de-stabilizing events and so we want the most rock solid thing that we can find now. We want Stability. We want Strength. We want Security... and where is it??!

It's Here. HE IS here, I should say. God is with us.

God is a safe place to hide, ready to help when we need him.
We stand fearless at the cliff-edge of doom,
courageous in seastorm and earthquake,
Before the rush and roar of oceans,
the tremors that shift mountains.

Jacob-wrestling God fights for us,
God-of-Angel-Armies protects us. Psalm 46:1-3

I love how Brenda Waggoner brought up a powerful quote from Oswald Chambers, in her book Fairy Tale Faith: "Oswald Chambers says that if we are to have 'staying power during the alarm moments of life,' we have to be grounded in God's basic truths." We are experiencing the "alarm moments of life." Right now.

Well some of us have been spouting off Bible quotes about God's love for years, some of us have been writing about how God is Powerful and that we should believe in Him, and some of us have been aware that there is a God who created the world and that He supposedly is Able to Keep us From Falling- but now we are going to have to live those beliefs as purposefully and intently as a marathon runner trains and zeros in on that last mile.

We've got to be pit bulls of the Faith, not pampered and spoiled poodles. We've got to laugh in the face of danger, not at any one's misfortune and not because we are insane or foolish- but because when our laughter rings out, by faith, God laughs too. Joy electrifies a troubled situation. Peace permeates the prison and the locked doors split open. People walk out into the sun shine and declare they are not going to be afraid. Not while they know the most amazing truth that God not only will reign and be Strong- but that He will reign in their life and be Strong on their behalf.

Tough Times and Tenacious People

Yesterday at church there was a lady behind me warbling sweetly as we sang an old hymn that made me think of my Nana. My Nana could really sing. I remember her belting out that hymn through rosy lipsticked lips- the lower lip bearing a black mark from biting down on it all the time in worry.

She worried a lot. And she had her reasons. She had her challenges because of life with a man who had his particular challenges with alcohol. But by the time I was hanging around their house, as a child, my Papa wasn't drinking anymore. But the black mark on Nanas lip was still there.

I thought of all this while we were worshipping. Well, I was trying to worship. But my mind was wondering. I got thinking about the lineage I come from. Women with strong character, big problems, and plenty to deal with. My Mom battles depression. I have battled Fear and Anxiety. And when I say battle, I do mean battle.

Becoming lion-hearted while at the same time becoming a gentle lamb who can be led by God is no easy thing. We have to do our battling while we are staying tender hearted, and I haven't figured out how to do that perfectly yet.

But I have to say that I do feel fit for these times we are in. I think God has made us ready for whatever we face. It's a done deal, in a way- and yet we also ask Him to make us fit for battle, make us stout hearted and unafraid. And He does both. He already made a way for us, and He continues to make a way, blazing through tough uncharted territory- in our eyes- and planting vineyards in the middle of deserts.

Today I'm coloring my hair (it's long overdue) and I'm putting on some bright lipstick. At the same time, I've got my battle gear on. I'm all set for the wonder and the wild time that each day is.

It's good to be alive.

A Certain Economy

Be careful about reading news headlines that scream out shocking truths about the economy. They're meant to scare you. They're pretty much the truth. They're meant to jolt you awake. But they're not meant to minister to your spirit. And you need that just as much as you need truthful information about our economy.

There's a certain veracity to the argument that our nation's economy is on a roller coaster descent of frightening means. Like a roller coaster that got mad and fed up with staying on track and now its off track, and plunging downward. And the fact that its shocking everybody with its plunge makes the roller coaster slightly pleased. It can't help itself. It was telling everyone that it was coming off the tracks and no one was listening.

But then there's another economy that we have to consider. And I was reminded of this at church yesterday. There's God's Economy. And in this economy, the headlines never scream for attention, never delight in evil and in scaring people. There are sober warnings in God's economy- such as you reap what you sow. Such as -be careful to take the plank out of your own eye before you help someone with their lack of vision. And in God's economy, there is an assurance of harvest after a sowing has taken place. What there is not in God's economy is an absolute time table laid out that tells you exactly when this harvest occurs, exactly when everything takes place.

I felt a lifting in my spirits yesterday. That happens when people pray for you. That happens when the yoke of fear gets broken. That often happens when you get together with other people who are honestly and earnestly seeking the Lord. I think we've found a church home. I think we're home now- even if we're still journeying onward.

There's this guy at our church who sits near the back usually. He has a low voice, a soothing voice. And all throughout the worship time- times of exuberant singing and times of beautiful repetitive singing of a certain chorus- this guy will interject his heartfelt exclamations of truth. "You're the King of Kings and we love you" or "You're worthy of praise" or in the case of yesterday, "You've lit our fire, Lord." Oh, yes. That He has.

And God can light a fire of faith in you that rages stronger than the frightening news of a troubled economy. God's economy and its truths can be your internal compass. And while the effects of our natural economy do hit us, hard at times, we still can decide which economy has the most influence over us, over our state of mind, our sense of well being.

In God's economy, those who sow- even while weeping- eventually come to a place of reaping a harvest. Psalm 126 reminds of this. Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy.He who continually goes forth weeping, bearing seed for sowing, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.

My favorite part of that verse is actually just one word- doubtless. Without a doubt. Cause everything in our natural economy tells you that you don't have assurance of anything. So everyone is filled with fear and doubt. But in God's economy, there's Someone eternally solvent who is backing up every single one of His promises. He will have the ultimate say. His kingdom economy is stable and just. No one can sow in faith and come back empty handed. I say that without a doubt in His mind.

Wild Turkeys and Wisdom

This is exactly what I saw yesterday afternoon. Well, not in this caricature form- it was the real thing. A huge wild turkey was pounding away at the basement window of our house, looking like he was frantically trying to come into the house!

But I didn't know that this is what it was, at first. It was such a racket and such a pounding noise that I heard, that I soberly told Abby, "Wait here, and if I don't come back up in five minutes, call 911". I was going to go downstairs and check out what I heard. I honestly thought it was either a bold thief or that the UPS guy had gotten stuck in my garage or something and was hysterically pounding on the door.

So I went downstairs and there in front of me was this huge wild turkey. I have to tell you that they are the most ridiculous looking of all birds: tiny, tiny head, flubbery red thing rolling around their neck, huge wings waving but getting them no where really- just short little distances. This turkey was apparently in a crazed panic, that's all I could think. While the others (there were about twenty of them in my backyard) kept their distance and strolled around the yard eating whatever specks they saw on the ground, this bird was slamming himself against the window and going for...what? Did he think if he came into the house that I would offer him a cup of tea and a foot massage? This silly bird's cousin was going to be on our Thanksgiving dinner table in another month or so! So why was he approaching our house and pounding on the window to come in?

The things we do when we're flustered- you don't want to know. We've all been there. If I get upset and panicky, I lose all sense of the ground under my feet. I know all about flapping my wings only to get a few inches further into my panic than I already am. I know all about persistent, frantic action that not only gets me no where but actually takes me into dangerous territory. So when I looked at that wild turkey repetitively pounding himself against the window, I thought, you poor silly thing. Please, God, don't let that be me.

I had actually just quoted this verse to a friend recently, and it suddenly came back to me, "He who walks with the wise grows wise, but a companion of fools suffers harm" (Prov 13:20). I had mentioned this verse to my friend when we were discussing how to choose the right advisors, the right financial experts, to listen to. In this crumbling economy, how do you know who really has the right advice? Nobody knows what tomorrow will bring. Yet there's the sense that we have to do what we can, when we can, to preserve our assets and protect what little we may have. That's why everyone's sense of alarm is up. Some of us are so riled up by panic that we could look crazy and act rashly. I don't want to do that. And Mr. Turkey was kind enough to remind me of that.

I think the Wise are those who do walk, and not race about frantically. The Wise are able to take step by step through dangerous and critical times because they don't carry the weight of the world-or the future of the world- on their shoulders. They walk with Him, the One who holds the future. And anyone who knows Him well can walk steadily when the times get crazy and people start to act like wild turkeys.

Thanks to Mr. Turkey, I have gotten a picture of what I could look like if I "lose" it. I don't want to lose it. I don't want to panic or fear. I want to walk, wisely, and trustingly- even if I have to keep taking a deep breath every step I take.

Vocabulary and Vacation Time Lessons

Okay, so I did want to hole up this morning, like a turtle cloistered in its shell, but I made myself shower and then make the bed. I did it, by faith, and then I was glad.

Next I'll be going over new vocabulary words with Abby, thankfully saying good-bye to last week's words of holocaust, annihilate, recluse, cloister, pandemonium. There's been enough pandemonium, nationally and world wide, to last us for quite a while. But we also had two important vocabulary words that I treasure right now: omnipotence and omnipresent. And even though I don't literally see God everywhere, He is- and He's powerful and capable of taking us through any kind of storm that comes our way.

I've decided to also mentally and pictorially re-visit our vacation time we enjoyed this summer because I think there's more lessons for me to glean. I remember coming home from our week at the North Shore feeling changed; not just refreshed, but literally renewed. I had a new way of looking at things, and a new hope that I was not as lost as I had felt I was.

And now with the way things are in the political and economic world, I need to know, more than ever, that I am not lost, that I am not rising or falling in security and strength according to the world's estimation of how things are. One minute the news tells us that we've passed a bill and things should go well, the next minute the headlines shout out that all is plunging like a roller coaster car falling off its tracks. I could feel very lost right now- if the news, the world markets, the leaders of this world dictate my future. But they don't.

So here I am, ready to go through Abby's lessons for the day, and it seems God has a lesson plan for me as well. According to those wonderful memories of our vacation, He is taking me through the simple steps of seeing something in its reality and acknowledging the application for my life.

God is reminding me of the turtle we fell in love with on our vacation. We picked him up and held him, and he didn't creep back into his shell in fear. He poked his head out and I think he was actually smiling. He must have known that the strong loving hands that held him would never let him fall or crash.

And that's all you have to know, sometimes: that when the world is shaky, God's hands are not. He holds you, firmly, lovingly, and you are therefore more than okay.

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.

My Hand in His

When my son, Alex, and I first visited his college campus, we arrived in the early evening and it was cold, dark, and dreary in the town. Very dark. There were hardly any street lights illuminating our way as walked from the bed and breakfast we were staying at to the college campus down the street. I thought to myself, I don't like this and its cold and dark, and I turned to my son and said, "We're only here a couple days and then we are going home." I felt relieved at that thought, that he and I would leave the place that made us feel uncomfortable and cold and go to the place where we felt "safe and secure from all alarm".

But when we walked into the campus building, up the stairs into the student lounge area, we walked into warmth and light and friendship and new beginnings. Within hours I knew that this is where my son was going to be going to college. I knew it and I felt sure that it would be good. And it is good. But now it's hard.

My son is sick with a cold. That's nothing, as far as news, for most people. But to the mother of a preemie, the mother of a son who spent nights in emergency rooms struggling to breathe, the mother of a son who gets quiet and pale when a simple cold takes him down with asthma or pneumonia, this is knee-shaking news. This is going where I do not want to go: I am at a loss to help him the way I have always intervened when he was sick. I cannot assess how bad it is, from where I am. I can only hear his voice, by phone, and feel the fear inside me; the kind of fear that makes me nauseous with worry so that I only half hear what my daughter is saying to me when she asks me a question about her history lesson.

I feel cornered by God- because this is what I had dreaded and what I had known I would go through. I knew my son would be far away at a college campus and I would be reduced to a distant doctor's assessment of his health, with me assessing his health by phone call. That I would be trying to gauge, from a distance, where my son was at as far as the critical nature of breathing, just breathing.

I believe God does not want me to fear. In my head I know this. I believe God loves and cares for my son. But HOW do I get through this? I don't want to go through this. I don't like this kind of trial, this challenge He presents to me so that I can learn to not only trust Him, but trust Him as I am learning to trust Him.

"'A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master'(Matthew 10:24). In other words, the same things that happened to our Lord will happen to us on our way to to our 'Jerusalem' "(My Utmost for His Highest). I imagine that Christ knew where He was called to go, knew what lay ahead for Him, yet that doesn't mean He enjoyed the route, that He grinned and laughed on His way. No one smiles at a trial ahead of them, however big or small it may seem to others. Sometimes people, loved ones even, cannot understand what makes you quake in your boots. What we go through, we go through with shaking, cold hands that others may not see, but God feels them, He holds them, "for He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust" (Ps 103:14).

And as long as He intimately knows what its like to battle fear, to have to go where we do not want to go, then I can be comforted by Him. I can let Him lead me through a trial, across a mountain and up the difficult side, so that I can know the heights of His love, the depth of His comforting peace. I know in the end I will not have to say that I enjoyed the journey, but that the outcome of the journey was worth it all.

Free Indeed

Last night my daughter and I watched Dr. Phil ( on T.V.) address the problems of Anorexia and Bulimia. It was agonizing to watch. The stories of these young women were enough to make you wonder if anyone, in this world, feels safe, loved, and hopeful.

Anorexia and Bulimia are two kinds of battles people have with not just the desire to be thin, but really, more the desire to be in control, to be safe, to be loved, to distract yourself with a ritual of purging or exercising or counting every calorie so that the real enemy inside you is temporarily quieted. I know. This is what I battled a long time ago.

Sometimes I even think that it really wasn't me, couldn't have been me, who frantically ran miles every day, ate a bit of cauliflower and some water for her main meal, and did exercises on her bed, at night, for hours. Sometimes it seems like this confused young woman was someone else- because I don't feel the terror or the frantic searching for control that I once felt. But I know it was me. I have photos to prove it was me.

The most memorable photo is the one where I am standing in front of our home and my sister has put up a sign that says "Welcome Home" and I am there, a smile on the face but not in the heart, and standing there-stick thin. I had just returned from my year of study abroad in Spain, but I had also returned having battled something that sprang up, supposedly, out of nowhere. Anorexia was its name but I could have called it so many other things as well: terror, a sudden realization that I was alone, culture shock, isolation, the need to control one tiny thing in my life even if everything else seemed out of control.

That's all I want to say for now about this problem I had so many years ago. I only bring it up now because last night was the first time I talked about it with my thirteen year old daughter. I wanted her to know that I had battled Anorexia, yes; but that I had also battled Fear, Anxiety, Depression, and Self Hatred. I wanted her to know that my strong confidence, now (which sometimes breaks down) is something that comes out of weakness. That "when I am weak, then He is strong" and God is strong enough to get you through the times when you don't even want to be strong, when you don't even want to succeed. God is adept at dealing with our self-sabotage.

Because I feel strong (for the most part), because I feel safe (very much so) and because I am certain of God's love for me, His desire for good for my life, I now look back and wonder how I could not have known these liberating truths. But I remember that its easy to get lost, its common to know hurt and pain and by not dealing with it, let it fester within and then manifest outwardly, someday, on a day you least expect, in a way you never thought.

I remember. God tells us to remember. How many times, just in Deuteronomy 8 alone, does He tell us to remember what we've gone through, remember what He has brought us out of, remember WHERE we are going. We are going to a promised land. And in this land, fear does not reign, sickness does not reign, and hearts are at peace, minds are at rest, because in this land, faith shall be sight. For me, I have decided that it is possible to used to the fact that this land is to be my homeland. That I am to be at peace, even now- and nothing shall rob me of my birthright.

"He who the Son sets free is free indeed." In getting free, I must remember that staying free is also the goal. It's the reality I should know. And I fix my sights on that. He tells me to do so. I want to agree with God, agree with what He has for me.

He'll always make a way for me to get there.

Battle Strategy

I somehow knew this battle was coming. I'm not talking about a confrontation with my teenage son, or with any other person. This is one of those battles with the unseen realm. Sometimes a combination of challenges, along with a sudden realization that you live precariously on the edge, along with the darker days of the dead of winter- all combine to leave you shaky on your feet, dry in the mouth. You wonder what in the world just hit you?!

I can't even tell you all the factors involved in this scene. Some I can share and some are private. When you're blogging, you have to continually decide what is helpful to share, what is humorous or sad, and what confidences would betray your soul if you shared them too early or too frequently with the world at large.

In a nut shell, I just am suddenly in the midst of upheaval. That's what you need to know. And what I'm battling for is stability, hope, and the confident conviction that my hope in God will not be in vain. Traveling on a small regional plane in a couple days does not help me right now. This adds to my feeling of being up the air about so many things. Having a self employed husband in the remodeling/housing industry which is critically failing right now- that doesn't help me feel grounded. Our part in helping our son get through college- that is so overwhelming right now. And then add in wanting to be a freelance writer, wanting to take that blessedly unstable career track? Am I crazy? I've never felt more sane, but so unsafe.

So I call out to God for His counsel, His strengthening presence. "This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast,..." says Hebrews 6:19. My NKJV commentary says, "An anchor is only as secure as that to which it is fastened." Hold on tight,Lauren- I tell myself. Hold onto Him and you can't go wrong.

"For you have need of endurance" begins Hebrews 10:36. Hupomone is the word in Biblical Greek. "It describes the capacity to continue to bear up under difficult circumstances not with passive complacency but with a hopeful fortitude that actively resists weariness and defeat."

That's the word, then, for this hour, this battle: Hupomone. Now I think hopeful fortitude has a certain look to it. It reminds me of an adult with a backpack on, who walks around with a smile and a helium balloon in their hand. They have a burden they're carrying, so to speak. But they are actively displaying a hope so boldly that they almost look ridiculous. Adults generally don't love walking around with childlike joy and a balloon in their hand. It singles you out of the crowd. Makes you look a little bit strange. People roll your eyes at you. "Don't get your hopes up" is a constant silent admonition we tell each other in the adult world.

Well, I have two choices. I can go down with the ship- let my emotions overwhelm me and suffocate me. I can feel like I'm drowning in fear or despair, gulping in water, flailing my arms as I go down, down, down with the feeling of the weight of the world on me.

Or I can let hope arise. It's a gutsy thing to do. Hope will lift you, cause you to rise up. You're anchored to Him and Christ has not remained in the grave. He has risen- just as He said He would. You're fixing your eyes on Him with all you've got. It doesn't matter what is causing you to feel down, overwhelmed, or dismayed. If you're in a battle, you're the one who knows what you feel like, what you need.

You and I need to bear up under difficult times. But we have the capacity to do so. He gave it to us. So I'm not casting away my confidence. I'm not silently (and supposedly heroically) going down with the ship. I'm reaching out with faith toward the One who can lift me up. You may just spot me carrying a balloon bobbing up high in the sky. I've got to do that. It's not a party I'm at. It's a battle. But I've got what it takes to wage war. He has given me hope.

"And hope does not disappoint us....".

Brave New Blogging World

Mu and I now have the same cell phone service provider. This could be serious trouble. We always connect, as it is, at least one day a week for an hour or two (or three, if they haven't kicked us out of the place). Face to face, steaming coffee wafting up between us, we relish the comfort of not holding back our thoughts from each other. But now we can connect whenever we want, by cell phone. It's free- since we have the same provider.

It's that sense that we are able to easily be in touch that comforts and stabilizes me. Mu dispenses advice that is tailor made for me. But more than that, knowing her- over these last five plus years- has been a form of accountability for my pursuits and dreams as well. Her memory is sharp. She never forgets a longing that I voice, a goal that I mention, or a dream that I start to describe. For some reason, I "see" myself more clearly when I am with her. I don't fudge on who I am and what I am purposing to do. I usually feel bolder and ready to "strike when the iron is hot".

The problem is that the iron cools quickly when I don't have her near to affirm that I haven't lost all my marbles in opening up my heart and my mouth every time I write or speak. But I can't have Mu on call 24 hours a day. And there are many times when I am with other people or writing something down to share with a group, and suddenly I am aware of how hard it is to honestly disclose what I am thinking, what I really feel, and who I am. The cost of self-disclosure comes up again. I have to ask myself once more, Now what's the price I have to pay here to say this?

There's a power and a danger in self-disclosure. This is an increasingly Tell-All World. But no one talks about the havoc that is wrought when people bare their souls in a moment of exuberant freedom, forgetting the morning-after feeling of alarm and confusion over what they have done.

Some people carefully share intimate details of their lives, knowing what the cost is to themselves and their families. Some people have been gearing up for years to share more and more of themselves in a concerted effort to be authentic and free from the heavy constraints of a privacy that really is just another wall.

No one can push you any farther than where you are, in this journey. No one should. If you blog, every time you share about your life, you have committed to the page something the entire world could potentially read. Authors have to deal with this when they write a memoir or share their journey through a dark time in their life. Even just sharing with a potential friend something about yourself is an act of self-disclosure that you can later feel glad over or regret.

Say the word Friendship and some think it's two men going hunting together, or two women gabbing together about shopping and make-up. (Just for the record, Mu and I think that going out shopping for clothes is about exciting as getting a hangnail removed). Friendships are about self-disclosure and connecting- and connecting is a powerful and sometimes dangerous thing. (Ask an electrician about this).

Connecting with the world through blogging is the new frontier. Am I ready to share more of myself with the world? And why, exactly, would I do this? These are the questions I am asking. Never mind if I asked these already, some time ago. They have surfaced again.

(To be continued tomorrow...)

The Privilege of Boldness

Bear with me in these next couple months. I am going full tilt into an old English, Jane Austen World where proper behavior, tea time, and dashing suitors are all the rage and hope. Now stay with me, Men (any men who are reading this), there is something in this post for you, I promise. I will get to that in a moment.

For the next three months, starting this Sunday night, we will have Masterpiece Theatre's broadcast of The Complete Jane Austen-all six of her novels in full color drama before our eyes. I don't remember when I fell in love with this fascinating world. But there are signs of my fascination with it everywhere you look in my house: I collect English tea cups and old silver, my one niece bought me a beautiful hardcover collection of Jane Austen's work as a Christmas present last year, I drink PG Tips tea (direct from England), and read all of Rosamunde Pilcher's novels over the years. I loved the new book out, A Journey with Jane Austen by Lori Smith.

I even recently entered this contest: "Pretend you are one of Jane Austen's parents. Describe in two or three sentences the kind of gentleman that would be worthy to win Jane's hand in marriage. What sort of man would you accept as a suitable husband for our favorite author?" over at Jane Austen Today . (See the Poll on the left side of the page and vote for me if you like my description!)

This proper world of courtesy and restrained emotion is fascinating to me. I often try to picture myself in this world, and I see myself stumbling about in a long dress with a tight bodice, not so much spilling my tea at tea time but spilling the beans about what I am thinking, what I want, what I hope for. You don't do that- in this world where formality and decorous behavior are all the rage.

It would be too bold to share what you really want, to declare your deepest feelings to a friend, or to even try to get another to join in with you in dreaming out loud and in declaring your New Year's resolutions or your aspirations. "Catherine sometimes started at the boldness of her own surmises, and sometimes hoped or feared that she had gone too far; but they were supported by such appearances as made their dismissal impossible"-Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey, Chapter VIII.

Nobody would be startled at my boldness if I lived in Jane Austen's day. My supposed boldness would be unmistakably evident to everyone's chagrin. But that really isn't boldness of spirit. That's more of a lack of social propriety, of being clumsy or foolish in sharing what others do not discuss.

I am not bold enough, of that I am sure. I lack total confidence and absolute assurance of God's power at work in me, and especially His desire to freely grant my requests. After all, there is that Scripture verse from 1 John 5:14 about asking anything "according to His will"- knowing that He hears us. Thus, the problem. Most of us get stuck in indecision about whether we're asking "according His will".

This treasure of 1 John 5:14,15 is the landscape of our hope and ideal. But we are stuck trying to access this treasure chest due to "knowing our place". We think our place is the world of those who appear humble, those who wait for God to speak out our thoughts and remind us of what we want. We think about boldly going into His throne room. Then we remember who we are, what we fear, our lack of intimately knowing His will- and we retreat.

I often read this passage, gasp at its magnitude, and then think about how I could appropriate this...another day.

"And this is the confidence (the assurance, the privilege of boldness) which we have in Him: [we are sure] that if we ask anything (make any request) according to His will (in agreement with His own plan), He listens to and hears us. And if (since) we [positively] know that He listens to us in whatever we ask, we also know [with settled and absolute knowledge] that we have [granted us as our present possessions] the requests made of Him." (Amplified version).

Alas, it is too much! (Said in a dramatic expression from Jane Austen's day). How can we get close to the meaning of this passage when words like assurance, boldness, positively know, settled and absolute knowledge- get in the way? Who has that kind of confidence about how they live, how they approach God? The only thing that provokes me to think I could ever be so bold as to go to God and confidently ask of Him my heart's desire- knowing that it was within His will- is to think of all of Paul's confident convictions. Here's one- "for I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day." 2 Tim 1:12

Then there's his confidence and boldness about the way, and where, he was serving God, in 2 Corinthians 10. He was confident that he was laboring where he should, and even confident about trying to go onward, making sure that onward meant laboring where no one had yet gone. "Then there will be no question of our boasting about work done in someone else’s territory" 2 Cor. 10:13-16.

I think I can ask God to help me know where to labor, what gifts and talents I can use for Him in a place where people need to be encouraged- because this is according to His will. I can ask God to work with me, forming and shaping me into a person who can boldly state that she knows Whom she has believed in- and she is absolutely persuaded and convinced that God is going to take her all the way Home. But first there is a journey, a cross country pilgrimage. First there is new territory to go to- where no man has gone before.

Somewhat boldly I circle around and come back to talk to God again. "Are you sure you want me to approach you boldly, confidently?" I fear falling into arrogance- and I think many fear this too. But I fear even more never being a child of God who exercises the privilege of boldness.

So before I zero in any more on my specific requests (that's coming), I want to make sure that I look at that passage again and stand there in amazement at what He offers. Free access to Him. The knowledge that He hears me when I talk with Him and ask Him for help. I can confidently call Him "Father".

He offers me the privilege of boldness. And in spite of how bold I would look in Jane Austen's world, I still have a LOT to learn.

What Do You Want?

I'm beginning to see a pattern here: the new year starts and I am sleeping less. Every night there are obstacles that get in the way of a sound night's sleep. I'm not really perturbed by this. I'm mainly curious as to whether God is trying to tell me something, such as- "you sleep too much or too long", or "it's a myth that you need 7 or 8 hours a night" or "Talk to me, Lauren". If God is trying to talk to me, I'm just wondering why we can't have our chats in the day time.

Last night Bill snored and coughed all night. Alex didn't get to sleep till after 1am because he was studying for a test today. I heard him in the hallway, opening kitchen cupboards looking for snacks, running water in the bathroom sink. I hear every single noise, the mice scratching in the walls (when they decide to visit) ,and every creaking sound the house makes- but I apparently am not hearing God.

I flopped in bed last night, fully spent- and happily spent- from teaching the LIFE workshop at church. I expected to drift off to sleep, but it was more of a drifting in and out of sleep that occurred- all night long.

There is only one thing I do hear God saying to me. It's a very unsettling question. I know God is speaking this because of the book I just happen to be reading. It's an older book (2000)by an author who is quite popular now. This is John Eldredge's book, The Journey of Desire: Searching for the Life We've Only Dreamed of. I knew this book was for me; expressly for me to read at this point and season of my life. I opened the book up this morning and continued on. And then I read it. I read the question that has been haunting me. I see this question now, here in the pages of the book.

"What do you want?" That's the question. That's what God has been asking me for a while, now. And since I have not fully answered God, I think He is waking me up at night so we can discuss this lack of response on my part. It's very easy for me to get frustrated with my life and to lament that I am not progressing or that I am not fruitful enough. But then I have to face the question of "What do you want...specifically?" That's when I slowly start to back away from the question. I thought I had answered that years ago.

Eldredge recounts the biblical story of the disabled man lying by the pool of Bethesda, in chapter three, "Dare We Desire?" He speaks about Jesus asking the man, "Do you want to get well?" and how Jesus was probing for more than just the response, "Of course I do." Years of longing for something- and then not seeing it happen- had changed the man, had caused him "to lose any vital heart-connection to what he wanted."

Later, Eldredge discusses the story of the prodigal son and his return home to a feast and celebration, while the son who had dutifully remained sulked and stormed over receiving no party in his name. "He tells his father...that all these years he hasn't gotten a thing in return for his life of service. The father's reply cuts to the chase: 'All that is mine has always been yours.' In other words, 'You never asked.' "

I'm almost thinking that God is allowing my sleep to be interrupted so that He might get me at a weakened state, unguarded and vulnerable. What will I tell God in those midnight hours? Will I voice the dreams of my heart, and then brace myself to be disappointed again; that I must wait, and then wait longer? Or will I tell God it's too late that He asks me what I want because I'm older, less energetic, not wanting to take risks as quickly as I used to, and that in my mind, it's as if Lazarus is dead. If Lazarus is dead, why is Jesus visiting me? What comfort could He offer me if the one I love, or the thing I long for, is dead?

"But even now...." Yes, that's what rises to my lips in stubborn faith- as it did to Martha's lips. She told Jesus, "But even now I know that whatever You ask of God, God will give You." (John 11:22) Even now, in spite of what I see, or in spite of the stench of dead dreams or of delayed dreams- dreams delayed so long that they are moldy and lifeless- even now, I will believe You, Lord. I will believe you to the point that I am ruthless in my eagerness to tell you all I long for, to tell you again what I once told you years ago.

I refuse to be like the third steward who hid his one talent while the others went out, risked, and multiplied what they had. I refuse to be suspicious of God handing out talents and think He is somehow trying to get me to dare to dream- only to rip the dream out of my hands. The third steward who hid his talent thought he knew the master's heart, was convinced the master was hard and mean, not extravagant in grace if the steward had fallen while trying to fly.

"There is this hurt and angry place inside, a very old wound... Life has not turned out the way we want, and we know God could have handled things differently. Even though we may profess at one level a genuine faith in him, at another level we are like the third servant. Our obedience is not so much out of love as it is out of carefulness. 'Just tell me what to do, God, and I'll do it.' " (Eldredge).

God is refusing to hear my request, "What do you want me to do, Lord?" as a genuine request spoken out of eager love and faith. He sees that I'm just being careful and cautious when I ask God what He wants next from me. Perhaps God sees that it's time I answer His question, "Lauren, What do you want?". My reply will be telling. It will indicate how big of a heart I think He has, how much grace and overcoming power I believe He doles out to His children.

My reply will tell God more than just the specifics of my dream. It will tell God that I believe Him for more. That I believe Him to be generous and giving and so forgiving of any botched up steps I take on my way to living out a dream...a dream that that He planted in me in the first place.

In Spite of the Mess

My living room, right now, is crammed full of boxes and shopping bags. It's not a large room and it looks even smaller right now. But soon, within four or five hours, there may be a decorated Christmas tree with twinkling lights, and a few presents wrapped and situated under the tree. Just to start with. I will have Christmas carols playing, and I might even get adventurous enough to tackle a baking project today. (It won't be dinner rolls, I can tell you that for sure).

It's bitter cold out today and we're all holed up in our little house, and none more so than Harry, our dog. He still has not recovered from his trip to the groomers and the shearing he underwent. He's nervous and skitzy, shaking himself constantly, running from room to room, and going out to pee constantly. My blonde mop of a dog is gone and in his place is this skinny thing that is acting neurotic and inconsolable.

When he's unsettled, I feel a bit more unsettled. So it will fall to me to speak soothingly to him, pet him a bit more softly and put some kisses on his forehead and keep telling him, "You're alright. You're okay. Really." I'm hoping he will believe me- even though he could be secretly seething with resentment for me having taken him to the place that was his undoing. But that's the sad thing. Dogs don't seethe with resentment. They bear the injustices quietly, their big eyes looking at you with a question of "How could you?"

He doesn't understand that this was a necessary thing. The clipping had to be done. The cleaning out of his ears, the shampooing and the brushing- it was all necessary. And then he would, of course, come home to me. He should know that by now- he always comes home to us. But he came home different than when he left. He came home troubled and fretful. And it's going to take him some days to get his old relaxed feeling, his equilibrium, back.

I completely understand that. Anytime I experience change- positive or negative- it takes me a bit to process what just happened. Just as I feel adept at coping with a situation, I get the news of something new that will affect me. It can be good news or bad news. I still have to adapt to the changes it will bring to my life.

If we go back to the subject of the apostle Paul's contentment with abundance as well as with times of lack, we see that the apostle really had a divine enablement in coping with not just these two extremes, but just coping with change, period.

For some people, going from Thanksgiving Day one day, and waking up the next day into the whoosh of full blown Christmas shopping, festive plans for merry making and holiday baking- it can be a little much to process. It's a change that can be a bit hard on the system- and that is not insulting the meaning of Christmas. It's simply explaining our human, physical reality.

I don't want to aim for perfection in setting the physical scene for Christmas. Because even if I decorate beautifully, the kids will throw the pillows on the floor, the dog will probably throw up on the couch, and I will bake something, at some point, and leave it too long in the oven. As the smoke fills the room and the smoke detector goes off, shrieking its outcry of judgment that I have burned something yet again, I will look around and survey the mess. I don't want to conclude, incorrectly, that I have failed to welcome Christ into our home, just because of the mess around me. I want to acknowledge my reality, but then I want to anticipate something more than what I see.

The original Christmas Day- the day of Christ's birth- did not contain detailed menu planning, shopping, decorating, Christmas tree decorating, dealing with relatives.... The scene, instead, was a hay encrusted manger, smelly animals, a woman in physical pain - giving birth, and then....wonder.

Wonder can be experienced, quite literally, in spite of the mess we're in. Or maybe it's precisely because we are in such a mess, that the wonder of God's miracle comes to us.

When You See my Scars

It's Saturday morning, and it's time to clean house. I mean, really clean it- and not just pretend I am. It would help if I went out and bought a vacuum cleaner that actually works, instead of using the one I have that smokes and growls loudly as I push it across the carpet, making a lot of noise,but doing...nothing. I need to clean out my overflowing bedroom closet and sort things around my desk. It is an absolute mess, my room.

And the kitchen- that should be attended to. If I look out the window, I'm inspired enough to keep washing the pots and pans, scrub counters, contemplate the view, and reflect on my life while my hands are in sudsy, hot water.

As long as I am not the one in hot water right now, then I can handle having a messy house. But I can't handle having a mess of a soul. I can't cope if I have hidden emotions, not dealt with, and lies of the soul that I want to cling to- that no one would know are there. And who helps you really do a deep soul cleaning? There is no commercial service that can come in and clean up your soul- in one day.

So while I clean house today, I may just sort out some old ideas I have been holding onto. I may let go of some things. In the case of my book proposal on dealing with depression, I have to decide if "this" is the book that should be written.

It may be that I am more like my old vacuum cleaner than I realize. It may be that I am working and looking like I am "doing" something. But the reality is that I could just be giving off a lot of smoke and not accomplishing what I set out to do.

My Book Proposal came out of a workshop series I taught on last year. There was a great response to it. But not because I am some expert- although you usually look like an expert if you share on something that has not taken you down for the count- and kept you down. Women wanted to hear someone just talk about the biggies of fear, anxiety, depression and worry.

I think some women were not so much looking for answers to these issues, but were looking for someone just to say that she struggled with them. This person- me- had to look reasonably sane, and hopeful; had to be someone who made it so far, in spite of these emotions and realities dogging their journey. So I stood there, last year, during this 4 week series, as a reflection of hope to these women. I was a symbol of success to them mainly by the fact that I was still standing. That's what they needed to see- someone who could talk about painful realities and stand, smiling, not scarred to the bone.

I'm not disfigured by fear anymore. But I do have scars. And that's what people want to see. Usually that's what encourages them, helps them know that you are real, and that they - being real- can make it on this journey through dark cavernous places.

Edward Shillito expressed this truth in his poem, Jesus of the Scars:

If we have never sought, we seek Thee now:
Thine eyes burn through the dark, our only stars;
We must have sight of thorn-pricks on Thy brow,
We must have Thee, O Jesus of the Scars.

The heavens frighten us; they are too calm;
In all the universe we have no place.
Our wounds are hurting us; where is the balm?
Lord Jesus, by Thy Scars, we claim Thy grace.
....
The other gods were strong; but Thou wast weak;
They rode, but Thou didst stumble to a throne;
But to our wounds only God's wounds can speak,
And not a god has wounds, but Thou alone.

So when people see me stumbling about in attempts to clean house, in my effort to draw near to God, they may be encouraged by how it looks to the eye to be made whole. It looks like a mess, often. You stand, somewhat exposed or raw. You share how you asked God, Put the salve here please. This is where it hurts.

That's why the books I will write have to be centered on...reality. I will have to zero in, even tighter, on things we normally back away from. I will have to be ruthless and daring. That doesn't come naturally to me- in spite of how some see me.

We are clamoring to know answers. Some of us are more in reach of these answers simply because we have put an honest hand out, raised it up, waved it furiously, and God came running. Or it least it seemed He came running.

The reality is, He was there all along. We just sensed His arrival because our eyes were suddenly opened, and we saw Him there. And then we took a stand, with Him supporting us. Or we wrote a book, daring to share with the world...what the world somehow knows, yet yearns to hear again and again.

There is a balm in Gilead. There is a salve that takes away the stain- but never takes away the scars. Take heart, though.Share those scars with the world. He meant for you to do so.

Baking, Bull Riding, and Beyond

It's been quite a day. I can't think of a better day to help me heal from the mess that yesterday was. The baking went okay, but everything else was chaotic- interpersonal relationships, communication catastrophes, mishaps and frustration, a teenager at odds with his mother, a daughter just trying to bake madeleines with her mom without getting her mom snatched away into a bru-ha with her son. A quiet husband- who could have spoken up and intervened to make peace, but chose the way he thought I should have taken- silent retreat. I do not retreat well- and I've got to learn how. Every battle raid is also a potential time for retreat- you've just got to know what's the right thing to do. Thank God for the evening and for fatigue- I slipped into sleep just knowing I was living a very real life with real problems. And then I slipped into la-la land and slumbered blissfully.

But today- what a glorious day. We all woke up and and by the time we got in the car for church, we were grinning at each other, happy to be at peace with each other again, thankful for grace for the day and forgiveness for the past. We get to church, and my husband and I were asked to pray for people as they came forward for prayer. (It was a special service at church). Praying for broken people with messy lives- oh, we know and understand what that's like. As I heard TD Jakes preach on TV the other night- you've got a beautiful, clean perfect life?- that's wonderful, I honor you, I applaud you- but you can't help me! Let me talk to someone who's been there, who knows what its like to live hurt and broken and get healed. Nobody wants to talk to a sinless saint- and besides, there aren't any!

Then we came home from church and took our daughter to the orchard (while suddenly studious, re-inspired son got to work on college applications)and ate hot cider doughnuts dripping with grease. (A bit of grease is good for you- it oils up your old joints). We came home, and I'm reading in bed when Bill yells up to me from downstairs, "Honey, your bull riding is on TV!!"

Now I am a fanatic about bull riding. My demeanor looks conservative but I am a wild bull rider inside.I love elegant tea parties, but I also get all excited about sweating ,brave men climbing on top of a 2000 lb. bull called Snortin' Harry or Kill Me Now (I made those up). All you have to do is stay on for 8 seconds- or possibly get stomped on, dragged around the arena, and get your guts kicked out of you. It is not for the faint of heart.

And deep inside, that's all I want to be- not faint of heart. Not a scaredy cat. Not someone who ducks out of the way instead of grabbing a charging bull by the horns.

Because in this life, you've got to be bold as a lion, tough as a bull, and tender hearted as a mother who can feel the pain in loving and letting go,

and go on anyhow.