Changing My Mind

(Sorry this is a long one! If you don't want to read it, but want to see a great picture, scroll down to the bottom and click on the last link about the squirrel!)

I’d like to think that I’m always open to the Lord changing my way of thinking about things. If I’m honest, though, I know that a statement like that probably isn’t true – I’m not sure I’m truly 100% open to anything all the time. I do have a bit of a stubborn streak. It runs in the family (but don’t ask us about it, we’ll just vehemently deny it). I can at least admit, however, that I should be open to learning new things about “old” stuff from Him.

It seems like lately He’s been in a mode (of sorts – I’m not entirely sure that God has “modes”) of revamping how I look at things, and I’m starting to like it. Take quiet times, for instance. I’ve always thought that a quiet time consisted of sitting down in a quiet place (hence the name), alone with the Lord reading His word and praying to Him. Sure, sometimes for me it also involves reading a devotional or doing some kind of study, but for the most part a “quiet time” has generally had a very distinct flavor about it. Until the other night, of course.

I love going to MSNBC.com and looking at The Week In Pictures slideshow. I don’t know, maybe it’s just a lazy way of catching up on the news, but I’ve always had an appreciation for un-staged photography. There’s something just so fascinating and real about pausing a completely unpredictable moment and getting to analyze every little detail about that split second moment. I could look at pictures like the ones they post in that slideshow for hours – and I have spent many days in the past doing just that.

Well I hadn’t been on MSNBC in a while, so I thought I’d check it out the other night. Shane was studying for a lesson and the boys were already in bed, so why not, right? I mean, I had lesson plans to make too, but why do that when you can mindlessly browse photography from around the world? So I dived in, never once expecting that the next 45 minutes or so would be a profound conversation with Jesus.

It started out slowly, as almost knee-jerk reactions to landscape and nature shots.

Boy, Papa, that sure is pretty. Wow – thank you for sunrises and snow. That’s the funniest picture of a squirrel I’ve ever seen in my life!!

But it soon changed to something much deeper.

A shot of a dozen or more babies sleeping on the same mat in an orphanage in the Congo, their parents torn from them and lost in a ridiculous civil war. Oh Father, please comfort them.

An aerial few of hundreds of baby chicks left to starve as part of a planned solution to prevent the avian flu. This is Your creation and I’m not sure we’re doing a great job of taking care of it.

The face of a beautiful young woman lying dead on the shore of a land that someone decided she didn’t belong in. Oh Papa, I’m so sorry. Your daughter was beautiful, and I know you love her.

Images of Jewish settlers in Israel being forcefully evicted from their homes by police in full riot gear. Lord! Your people! Your treasured possession – how your heart must break for them and long for them to once again gather under your wing.

I was having a deep, intimate time of communion with our Lord over pictures and the news. It seemed surreal. Someone else was in the room just feet away, I didn’t have a Bible anywhere near me, the pictures weren’t anything you’d see in a stained glass wall at church, there weren’t any worship songs playing or formal prayers being said – it was just a time of sharing in smiles and heartaches with the Lord.

And then it got personal.

First I saw this picture. A woman in New York completely unable to cram herself in her car on Black Friday because of all the toys she and the person I assumed was driving the car (you couldn’t see that far into the car for all the bags and boxes) had bought at Toys R Us.

Then I saw this one. The wide, innocent eyes of a young boy in the Congo staring at the camera, one hand holding a pile of flour and the other desperately scraping more out of the gravel and dirt. His beautiful, dark face splashed with the white dust of his treasured meal. A treasured meal. Flour scraped out of the dirt. I was stunned.

Immediately I thought of the three bags of flour I had in my own pantry, two of which I’m going to have to throw out because they are past date. He would be overwhelmed to have those stale remains. Then I thought of the contrast of the picture of the lady in New York. He’s eating dirty, raw flour, and we are drowning in a wealth of toys and presents we don’t even need this Christmas.

I spent some time that evening just standing in front of our pantry looking at all the excess we have stored up in there. I wished I could find that little boy and just give him the whole thing. I wished I could bring him and his family to live with us in a place where people throw out stuff every day that they are literally dying to have. I decided that we would at least honor him by living out of our pantry for the next few weeks when it’s just our family in the house. Why do we need more than what we already have?

Believe it or not, I’m not through with this post. I’ve learned more than I have room for here or you have patience to read, I’m sure. And God’s still working on me – those images still marinating in my brain. Just this morning He taught me something new along these line in His Word, bringing new light to a verse that has been a personal favorite for about 14 years. But it will have to wait until next time.

I hope you have a great Christmas if I don’t get to write again before that time. Remember why we’re celebrating, and Who it is all about.

And if you really do want to see the funniest picture of a squirrel I’ve ever seen in my life, click here.

Change of Plans

Yeah, so I had my plans all laid out this morning – go to Target and finish Christmas shopping, then to Panera to write for a couple of hours before my lunch date. I didn’t even eat breakfast because I was anticipating that pumpkin muffin and hot tea that has become my Tuesday morning fare as of late. Going there seems to be the best way for me to get any writing done.

And then my tire went flat.

I’m thankful that it wasn’t flat (or at least I didn’t notice it being flat) before school, so that Big Brother (much to his dismay) didn’t have to miss anything. No, it made it all the way to Little Man’s preschool, presenting itself in all its pancake-ness to me when I left the building thinking I was finally free to live life on my terms for a while.

So now, instead of eating a muffin and sipping on a hot cuppa to the delightful sounds of classical music and friendly chatter, I’m stuck in a waiting room with half a computer battery and no food, surrounded by the acrid stench of rubber and listening to Handy Manny playing on the TV despite the fact that the only two year old in the room is the only one not even watching. But I’m not bitter….

Actually, I have no right to be bitter. When I sat on my couch this morning and prayed (between sleepy nods as my body tried desperately to drift back into a deep slumber), I told the Lord that He alone is King in my life, and that I wanted to live my life in submission to Him today. I guess He took me seriously, huh?

The truth is that I got up this morning and budgeted my day according to what I thought needed to happen. I pre-spent money and time that wasn’t even really mine in the first place. So what that I thought I was going to sit down and write something for His honor and His glory? If that’s not what He had in mind then who am I to argue?

I thought I was “supposed” to be browsing the aisles of Target and happily clicking away without regard to hunger or a power supply at Panera, but apparently I wasn’t. Apparently I was supposed to spend my morning sitting in a cold, smelly tire shop, waiting to learn just how many Christmas presents I would have had to put back anyway in order to afford the bill that’s coming my way (because with our van, it’s never just a tire). Why? Was that it? The money? Or am I being kept from some horrible, unforeseen accident or an encounter with someone I wasn’t supposed to talk to? On the other hand could I be here to encounter these people for some reason?

Who knows. And who should know, anyway? When God changes our circumstances, it’s because He has a good reason. If He sees fit to share that reason with us, then we should feel blessed. If not, then we should just be thankful that He is the Great I AM, and that He always knows what’s best.

I’m clinging to that thought today, and trying to be thankful for cold waiting rooms and smelly tires. There’s a plan, and it’s much bigger than mine was to go shopping and eat muffins. I just hope I can find it in me to be thankful if that plan eventually involves a gigantic bill….

Oh Father, I love that you’re bigger than me and my little faith!

***Update: Just so you know, it definitely wasn’t just a tire. Apparently that was $645 we didn’t need for anything else! I actually am thankful that we were able to pay it, and that I knew that bill was coming. Remember “The Rule”? Yeah, someone just gave us some cash for Christmas the other day, so I knew something like this would happen. When the guy told me how much the bill was, I just laughed. He apologized for the bad news, but I told him it was ok because I had honestly expected it! I’m just wondering why “The Rule” was a few hundred dollars over what we were given this time…does that mean there’s more cash in our future to fill in the hole? We shall see, we shall see.

Dieting? Well, It's Elementary, Really.

Wow – have I got a diet plan for you. Not that you need to be on a diet…. I’m just saying, this is an incredibly affective way to lose weight. Best thing is – it’s cheap and you don’t have to cook a thing. Are you ready for this?

I call it the Elementary Diet (oh boy, I hope that’s not trademarked somewhere….I can’t afford a lawyer….). This is how it works. Step one is to plan a day to attend lunch with your Kindergartener. Don’t have one in Kindergarten? That’s ok. Call your closest elementary school and tell them you want to volunteer to let the Kindergarten classroom assistant take a lunch off. Trust me – they won’t turn you down.

Next, show up at the school and find your lunch partner. Obviously this would be your own kid if you are a K-grade room parent, but if it’s not, then look for the one kid whose parents actually needed that memo sent home in the first nine weeks about the need for children to take a bath every day (yes, by the way, that memo was real – I still have it). Don’t worry, you’ll know how to spot him – he looks a little like Pigpen from the Peanuts. By the way, you will notice that lunch starts at 10:30, so you won’t be needing breakfast that morning. See? It’s already working and you haven’t even done anything yet!

Now saddle up in line behind your little one (or Pigpen), and grab a nice melamine tray full of gelatinous meat (if you’re lucky they’ll throw in some gravy), heat-lamped turnip greens and “California blend” veggies (seriously, do people in California even eat this stuff? I don’t think so). Oh, and don’t forget to grab a roll and a box of slightly chilled milk on the way out. Now, simply sit back and let the magic work itself.

You will find, ironically, that the actual food you have loaded onto your tray doesn’t really have anything to do with the diet itself. In fact, you may even find that even though it somewhat resembles the same exact food you ate in elementary school (leading you to wonder if they just have a gigantic never-ending storehouse of 25 year old freeze-dried food somewhere), today’s mystery dishes are now much healthier. They actually contain vitamins and proteins found in real produce and meat, and (believe it or not) tend to taste somewhat good. But don’t worry, you won’t have to fret over wanting seconds you’ll never be allowed to obtain. Trust me.

It is at this point that the diet truly begins in full swing. All you have to do is keep your eyes open. Watch the girl in front of you squish reconstituted mashed potatoes through the gap in her teeth. Check out the kid who is trying desperately to be funny by unsuccessfully shoving an orange peel the size of a small football into his mouth. Observe your neighbor spreading butter all over his ham before he eats it, simply because he ran out of bread and hasn’t figured out – yet – that he could just eat the butter out of the little cup all by itself (don’t worry – come back next week. He’ll have figured it out by then).

Then take a gander at the rest of the table. The kid who puts ketchup on everything – including his pears. The one with the stuffy nose who feels the need to unstuff it right at the table. The girl whose loving mom knows that she likes lots of mayonnaise spread on the lunchmeat before it’s wrapped around the pickle. The boy who seriously thinks his chocolate milk tastes better with peas in it. Oh yeah, I said peas. And all the while, notice that any somewhat tantalizing aromas that may have risen from your own tray have been blocked by the hand you have to keep throwing next to your nose every time Pigpen leans across you to tell your neighbor something that usually involves the phrase “Hey, watch what I can do!” (don’t watch, by the way. This is a diet plan, not a prescription for permanent self-starvation).

Even if you do decide to close your eyes for a moment or two and choke down some good ‘ole county government fare, don’t worry, you haven’t blown anything yet – the diet’s not even over. The torture will only last about 20 or 30 minutes, and then it will be time to prance your tray over to the wash window. This is the real grand finale – the icing on the cake, if you will. Check out what the lunch ladies do with all that left-over, ketchup-laden, partially-chewed decadence. Oh yeah, they throw it all together into this little trough that leads to a garbage disposal, where it backs up and lingers in a pile of spooge and nastiness, all the while begging for a violent shove of the scrapper to send it into the rotating blades of horror and put it out of its misery. Mmmm, just like mom used to make, huh? Well, guess what? There goes all hopes of wanting to eat dinner, and possibly even breakfast the next morning. See how it works?

Do this just a couple of times a month and the memories alone will be enough to keep the weight off for years. I’m really looking forward to fitting into those size 6 Diamond Cut jeans I couldn’t get rid of after monster-huge baby #1 (they were really new when I got pregnant…who wants to get rid of perfectly brand new jeans? Even if they are hmmfnumabah sizes too small….ahem….). Just a few more lunch dates, and I’ll be there….I just know it….

Happy eating, friends!

Um, Thanks?

Last weekend Little Man came home from church with a treasure box he had made in Sunday School. It's a small, round wooden box with the words "I'm thankful for..." penned around the lid and a few flashy jewels glued on top by the little guy himself. Inside was a single piece of paper telling us what he is most thankful for in this life. You want to know what it said?

"...my kitty who throws up and vomits."

Yeah, buddy - me too. Meee toooo.

Happy Thanksgiving, whatever you're thankful for!


-Samantha

A Little Buried Treasure

I was looking through Proverbs 31 the other day in preparation for a talk I was giving on a retreat. I hate to admit it, but sometimes when I read that Psalm I think I’m just a glutton for punishment, because I always find myself deeply entrenched in the sin of comparison. And comparing yourself with Super Woman is hardly ever a feat that lands you anywhere near on top. So it was with great caution that I stepped into the description of the epitome of all women, and in that spirit I found a little treasure – a new mark of character to strive for that I don’t think is too far out of my reach for once.

It was in the middle of verse 28 that I found this tiny gem, sandwiched between the parts of Wonder Woman’s resume that tell of her never eating the bread of idleness and pretty much surpassing every other female in existence in her perfection (ok, are you catching a hint of bitterness and jealousy? I’m telling you, this may be the one Psalm that actually causes me to sin…). There, in those tiny words “Her children arise and call her blessed” I found my sparkling glimmer of hope.

Now wait a minute – don’t think for a second that I’m about to say that my kids will ever hang from a lamppost in the middle of town square and shout my praises to the masses. I’m not delusional, friends. No, no. This is definitely one of those times when the original language tweaked something deeper than our own English translation was able to convey to my heart (and you thought I was starting to lose it…well, fear not – “it” is all here in it’s glory).

Just for kicks I looked up that Hebrew word used there for “call (her) blessed”, and do you know what I found? It actually means “to call someone ‘blessed’”. Shocking, I know. But then the definition goes on to say that it also is used in other instances to call someone “happy”. Hmmm. Let the conviction games begin!

I immediately started to wonder if my children would “rise up and called me happy” to anyone, ever. And I have to admit that I think one of them would most of the time. He’s the one that doesn’t get in trouble a lot, so to him, life is pretty happy. But the other one? Yeah, I don’t think Little Man would exactly use “happy” as his chosen adjective for Dear Old Mom.

Just the other day we were watching a movie together when a character on screen started yelling in frustration over something. In his cute little stutter, Little Man turned to me and asked, “Why wh- why that man yellin’?” I told him it was because he was just upset over something, and without hesitating he asked, “Wike you?”

Ouch.

But you know, I actually think that’s something I can work on. In fact, I think the Lord’s been dealing with my heart on this subject a lot lately. He’s been gently teaching me about appreciating people and things, resting in Him, enjoying His presence and – yes – not losing it so much with my three year old. I’d say He’s definitely leading me in a direction that could result in a lot more happiness in my home.

For quite some time the greatest desire of my heart has been to experience unhindered joy in the Lord, of which happiness is a mere byproduct. Now, I know that doesn’t mean that every day would look like the filming of a Brady Bunch song (you know – from those later episodes when they thought it was a good idea to be in a singing group together…until You Know Who’s voice changed and ruined everything…), but I don’t think that’s what real “happiness” is all about anyway. I think it has a lot more to do with the state of your mind and the place of your heart.

I also know that our enemy just read these words I’ve written and would love nothing else than to knock this “silly” little notion out of my head forever. But I pray that the Lord would protect me from his schemes and let me take joy in the fact that my Dad really is bigger and stronger than that bully, and that He’s already beat his tail all over the playground and back.

Yes, I think happiness – in the right, Christ-led sense of the word – is attainable, even for me (despite what my youngest might think). It's in there somewhere, buried beneath the yelling and gnashing of teeth that is seen most often around bed times and in Target or Wal-Mart. With a little help from the Lord I'll be able to dig it up and present it as a treasure to my sons. And I’m looking forward to laughing when my sons stand up in the presence of witnesses and declare: “My mom may not be the Proverbs 31 woman, but she’s happy!”

Oh, what a fun day that will be!

Delight And Rest

I've just returned from a day of solitude - 24 hours of silence and being alone with the Lord - and I have to say that it was sweet and wonderful. I've mentioned on here, oh, I don't know, about a million times lately that I've been overwhelmed with living at the speed of life the past few months, and it was definitely time for a break. Honestly, no vacation in the world could have been more refreshing for my soul!

The Lord allowed me a lot of sweet rest and sleep, and then He had a specific word for me: "Delight in me. Enjoy me!" Up until yesterday I had always thought that "delighting in the Lord" was a suggestion. You know, like, "Try taking a warm bath to relax...it works for me!" But He very clearly showed me in His word that delighting in Him and enjoying Him is just as much of a command as "do good" or "turn from evil".

The scripture He had me focus the most on was Psalm 37. He definitely had some peace to speak into my heart concerning economy-type things through these verses, which maybe I'll get a chance to write about soon. If you read Psalm 37, you might see that it can be fairly easily broken down into two categories: commands and promises. Even all the stuff in there about what happens to wicked people can really be chalked up on the "promises" side of the board. And when you do that with the whole psalm, you'll very quickly see that "delight" and "enjoy" show up as commands.

Now we would never, ever think of "turning from evil" as a strong suggestion that we could simply take or leave at our own whim, would we? I mean, that doesn't even seem like a remote point of negotiation in the kingdom of our Lord, does it? Well what if He is just as serious about us delighting in Him? I'm beginning to think that He is.

How amazing is our God that He would command us to stop and enjoy Him. To take a break and breathe a deep, calming breath of His presence. I'd love for you to stop right now and think of something that you really, really enjoy - something that is your special escape from the reality of life. You got that picture in your head? For me it's a warm, candle-lit bath and chocolate truffles (shallow, I know - but it works for me...). As much joy and satisfaction and release that moment or thing or experience gives you - that is what God is commanding you to experience with Him. Amazing thought, isn't it?

I'm really looking forward to figuring out how to make enjoying the Lord a routine part of my spiritual discipline, and I'm excited to see how it might look! But most of all, I'm thankful for a God and Father who delights in me and wants me to enjoy and delight in Him so much that He commands it. What an amazing God we serve!

WIGIAT? I think I know...

I was sitting in the pickup line at school the other day when I saw a bumper sticker that really made me think. No, it wasn’t the one mini van’s giant red Darth Vader head my kids are so envious of, it was one I’d actually not seen yet. At first glance, it simply said, “WIGIAT”.

As I sat there and thought, Wigi-what?, and assumed that it probably had something to do with our current president (as about half the bumper stickers around here that have anything to do with the letter W do), I noticed that it said something else in very small print underneath those letters. I had to nearly snuggle up in their backseat to read it, but somehow I was able to make it out just short of hitting their rear bumper. It read:

“WHERE IS GOD IN ALL THIS”

It was kind of a disturbing thought to begin with, then I saw the “Jesus fish” not too far above it on the back door. At that point I was really disturbed.

I kind of wanted to get out of the car and remind her where God is in all this. God is exactly where He’s always been, and right where He belongs: on His throne.

Psalm 29:10 says, “The Lord sits enthroned over the flood; the Lord is enthroned as King forever”, and I believe it. Yes, our world is a mess. And yes, it would appear that we are drowning in it. But that doesn’t mean that God has forgotten us or disappeared. He sees us and He knows our hurt and confusion. He feels our pain and is deeply saddened by our fears. This is far from the Eden He designed for us, and He can’t wait to step in and take us home.

So why doesn’t He do something about it? Because He’s perfect and patient and just, and so much in love with us that He can’t. Doesn’t seem to make sense, does it? 2 Peter 3:9 tells us why it should make perfect sense: “The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.” He’s waiting for us to believe so we can come home.

I must admit, though, that some days I feel selfishly feel like enough people believe that He needs to come back and save us all from the rest of us who don’t, you know? But that’s just one more reason in a long line of reasons why I am so very, very glad that I am not God. He alone is perfect, and He alone knows the hearts of men. He already knows the perfect time to step in and make Himself known to even those who refuse to believe. It’s been marked on His calendar since before the beginning of time, and you can rest assured that He won’t forget or be a minute late. Our God is perfect and perfectly on time.

So where is God in all this? Right where He should be. And to those of us who do believe, that place is closer to us than our next breath. Through the Holy Spirit we have uninterrupted access to the Lord our God, who works tirelessly in and through us each day to strengthen our faith and lead others to believe in His name. He hasn't gone anywhere.

After having a few days to think about this, I’m considering making a rebuttal sticker. Maybe if I did it would say something like “GSIRH” (GOD SAYS, “I’M RIGHT HERE”), or WIOFIAT (WHERE IS OUR FAITH IN ALL THIS). But maybe it should simply just say “I AM” – because that’s all we really need to know. God is and was and always will be. Ultimately, we have nothing to fear.

That being said; Come Lord Jesus, Come. The flood is rising…