A Thankful Heart

Image from: http://follow2serve.wordpress.com/2012/11/19/thanksgiving-and-mondays/

It's been almost five months since that phone call that froze my heart. It's been almost five months since I stood outside watching them load my son on a helicopter to fly him to another hospital better equipped to save his life. It's been almost five months since a doctor stood in the ICU explaining how much damage had been done to Tim's liver in the wreck. It's been almost five months since the ER nurse that first cared for him went home crying after her shift and told her husband that Tim likely wouldn't make it. It's been almost five months. It feels like yesterday and it feels like ten years ago. So much has happened in five months.

Today, just five months later, Tim seems perfectly healthy. There's a tiny scar from the chest tube, and a couple miniscule scars from IVs, but that's all the outward sign that he ever skirted the edge of the Valley of Death. Over the last five months, God has knit his liver back together, returned full function to it, and healed his lungs. The last obstacle Tim was dealing with was the big collection of blood in the liver. Today, we learned that in the last three months, it has reduced by half. Today, that same doctor that stood in the ICU with a grave face telling us how dangerous the liver damage was stood smiling and telling us he was releasing Tim. Five months ago, Dr. Tartt stood by Tim's bed and told him to avoid moving as much as possible so the liver could clot and stop hemorrhaging. Today, he stood by Tim and told him to do whatever activities he was comfortable doing. What a difference a few months can make. Actually, what a difference God makes!

I'll never know how many prayers were lifted on Tim's behalf. We got hundreds of phone calls, emails, texts, and Facebook messages telling us people were praying. I heard from people from churches I'd never even heard of saying Tim was on their prayer list. The archery community stepped up and did a fund raiser for his medical bills and we got cards from people Tim had shot with across the state. I'll never know how many people prayed for Tim. But God does. He heard every single prayer, counted every tear, touched every heart. And He chose to answer our prayers with the outcome we had been praying for. And for that, I am forever, deeply, beyond description, thankful. There are no words to describe the feeling of watching your child nearly die. And there's no description for the feeling you get when you understand that your child will live. I know some of you have stood in my place. I know some of you didn't get the answer you had begged God for, but instead, heard the awful crushing news. I can't pretend to know what that's like.

Here's what I know for certain. God is good. And He is good all the time. When He answers our prayers in the way we asked, He is good. And when He says no, He is good. And when He says wait, He is good. And when we have no idea what He is doing, when we just can't understand why He is letting something happen, when our world is crashing down around us, He is still good. Our inability to see the big picture does not change His goodness.

This week is Thanksgiving. Many people across our land will lift prayers to God to thank him for all He's done for them, provided for them, and helped them. My family has so much to be thankful for every year, but even more so this year. And regardless of the circumstances you find yourself in, you too have much for which to be thankful.

Thursday, millions of “Thank you, God” prayers will ascend. I wonder how many will be said this Wednesday though. Or this Friday. Or next week. It is so very easy to take things for granted when they are going smoothly. It's easy to just cry out to God for help when we are desperate and forget to return in gratefulness when our situation changes, just as nine out of the ten lepers did when Jesus healed them. But living a life of gratitude, finding things to be thankful for every day, regardless of our circumstances, changes us. It changes our outlook, it reminds us of our dependence on God for all things, and it keeps us looking up toward Him rather than focusing on ourselves. Thanksgiving should not be reserved for a day, or even a week, or even just the month of November. It should be our attitude every day, every minute.

I have a long way to go to get to the “all gratitude, all the time” place in my life. I hope I'm making progress. I hope you are too. And I wish you a blessed Thanksgiving, knowing that if you are reading this, I have thanked God for placing you in my life.

Oh No! I Forgot To Socialize the Kids

This is our third year homeschooling and over the years, I've discovered there are a few predictable responses when people find out we homeschool. The reactions vary from laughable to annoying to downright offensive. One thing seems certain though. Everyone appears to have an opinion on the subject and they usually want to share it with me.

One we hear often is “Wow, that's great. I have so much respect for you. You must have so much patience.” Now, I appreciate your respect, I really do. But patience? Nope, not really. I don't have any more patience than any other teacher would have, or a bus driver, or the receptionist that has to answer stupid questions all day, or the police officer that has heard the same excuse a thousand times. I'm not extra patient, but when you are doing what God has instructed you to do, you will find that you are able to do what is needed. People sometimes respond with some form of “Wow, I could never do that!” That's ok. I probably wouldn't want to do your job either. I try to refrain from saying that though, because it sounds kind of snotty. I mean seriously, you do THAT all day? All week long? Ugh!

Often we are asked why we took our kids out of school. We have been asked if we hate public school or if we are trying to keep our kids from all bad influences. No, we don't hate schools. Yes, we do hate some of the things that go on there. No, we are under no delusion that we can prevent all bad influences, but yes, we do want to keep as many away from our kids as we can. Don't you? I mean, who wants their kids exposed to bad influences. I want to ask this questioner if they are even listening to themselves. I also try to keep my kids from drinking bleach. Call me weird.

Then there are the testers we meet. These are the people who want to quiz my kids to see if they are “smart” because they are home-schooled. This is so odd. I never see them doing this to traditionally schooled kids, but they feel right at ease quizzing my kids on random facts to see what they are learning. This goes along with the belief that if a home-schooled kid isn't brilliant, the parent must be failing at teaching. Or if they are shy, or overactive, or withdrawn, or talkative, etc, it must be because they are not socialized at school. Yet when I look at traditionally schooled kids, you know what I see? Kids that are really smart, or not so much, or average. Kids that are shy, or bold, or talkative, or withdrawn, or overactive. Kids are unique and individual, regardless of where or how they are schooled.

Finally, there are people who think we keep our kids home so we can indoctrinate them with our religion. This is only half true. I absolutely intend to indoctrinate my kids with Christian teachings. Absolutely! But I did this when they were in school too. And the Bible instructs us to do so. Train up a child in the way he should go......sound familiar? Every Christian is responsible for the spiritual instruction of their kids, and if you leave it up to someone else, whether church, school, preacher, teacher, or other, you are failing in that responsibility.

These reactions to homeschooling are things I've had to get used to. But they parallel reactions we Christians get from the outside world. There are people who consider it child abuse to teach kids about religion and believe that we should let them make up their own minds when they are adults. There are people who will quiz you on Bible facts to see if you know it all. There are people who think we are hiding from the real world inside our churches. There are people who claim they respect the way we live but think they could never live up to the church standards (another whole devotional right there, so I won't even address it.) There are people who look at our personality and decide it is because we are “church people” that we are....whatever personality trait they are against. There are people who think we must have it all together or never have problems because we have Jesus. Yeah, I wish! Some of the reactions from non-believers come from genuine curiosity or respect. Some from fear, hate, or prejudice. Some is a push back against the convictions they themselves are feeling when in our presence, which comes not from our behavior but from the Holy Spirit working on them.

Here's the take-away. I homeschool because it's what's best for my family. I don't judge you on the way you school your kids. Let's just respect and support one another, ok? I am a Christian. I don't judge you for not being one, if you aren't. Once upon a time, I wasn't one either. Let's just respect and support one another however we can, ok? I will tell you about how Jesus has changed my life though, because it's awesome. Or, if you are a Christian, I am not here to criticize your walk and I'd appreciate it if you refrained from doing so to me. I have stumbles and struggles too. Let's help lift each other up, ok? We have gotten so busy putting people into categories that we have lost Jesus' mission....to make disciples, to glorify God, to care for the needy, and to LOVE. Let's get back to it.

One Split Second

     One decision. That's all it takes to change your entire life and the lives of those around you. An everyday decision that you have made a hundred times can have unintended consequences on a given day. That's what happened a couple of weeks ago. Tim decided to ride the four wheeler with his friends when I wasn't home. He decided to ride up the same hill he's ridden up hundreds of times. This time, he didn't make it. In a split second, an everyday decision turned into a life or death situation.

     The four wheeler crushed his liver, caused internal bleeding, and damaged his lungs. On the outside, he looked okay A few minor scratches, the imprint of the handlebars on his abdomen, but mostly okay. The damage was all inside. The x rays and CT scans showed the scary truth. The doctor's face and tone of voice portrayed the seriousness of what we couldn't see. The helicopter arriving to fly Tim to another hospital drove home how much trouble his body was in. If you have never watched your child being loaded into a helicopter and flying away to a hospital, you can not understand the dread that fills your being. In that moment, when you don't know if you will see them alive again, your heart is a rock in your chest, you can't breathe, you can't think....all you can do is try to fight the terror and drive on auto-pilot to the hospital. And pray. In that moment, when you can't even think of words, you can cry out to the Holy Spirit to give you words, to Jesus to save your baby, to God to be your rock.

     Tim lived. Those are words I never expected to say, never expected there to be a question. But that's our reality. He lived. It was very close. He almost didn't. The first morning in the ICU, one of the ER nurses came to visit and said he just wanted to see Tim, that he'd worried about him all night, and just wasn't sure he'd still be with us that morning. It was sweet of him, but a blow to us. It's hard for your mind to deny the seriousness of the situation when an ER nurse tells you he thought your child would die overnight. Our first morning in a regular room, two of the ICU nurses came to check on him, to be sure he was still improving. They too made comments about how close a call it was and how worried they'd been about him. It touched us that they cared so much.

     The prayers of hundreds pounded on heaven's gate. I got word out as soon as possible, because I wanted, needed people praying. People responded in droves, lifting up prayers for Tim, and for us, pleading for his life, his health, our peace. Those prayers held us up, kept us going, kept me from dissolving into a sobbing fearful doubting mess. God, in his infinite mercy, spared Tim's life and is restoring his health. We will never know how many people lifted a prayer for him. We've heard from dozens of people that he is on their church's prayer list, that their class prayed for him, that their friends have been praying. Many dozens of people have been following his updates on Facebook and passing it along to their friends, people we don't know, who have been praying for him. God's people have been a mighty voice asking for Tim's healing. We could never express our gratitude enough.

     One decision. One split second. That's all it takes to change your life, and those around you. We can't live our lives in fear of making a wrong decision and we can't put our kids in a bubble. We try to make wise decisions, but know that sometimes, things go wrong. Therefore, we must be prepared for eternity. A dear friend told me in the ICU waiting room that even though it wasn't going to come to it, at least we did know Tim's salvation was sure. She was right. It was a comfort to know that if my worst nightmare came to pass, I could be sure Tim's soul would be secure. We aren't promised tomorrow, or the next hour, or the next second. Be very sure your salvation is secured.

     Finally, I know this devotional is a little rambling and disjointed. Writing makes me vulnerable. I never sugar coat things for you. I allow you to see my faults, my weaknesses, my frailty because being authentic is the only way I know to be and the only way I can impact others. Even though Tim is home and improving, I'm still emotional. I've kept myself busy so I don't have to think about what could have been. But sitting down to write, that opens it all up. So I ask you indulgence this week. And I thank each of you for the prayers I know you've spoken on our behalf.

Work On the Inside Shows On the Outside

       It was that time again. I was at the dentist for my last appointment needed to correct substandard care I'd been getting from another dentist. For the years I had been seeing the unnamed dentist, I was happy. Quite happy, in fact. He'd never given me a shot. I rarely needed anything more than a cleaning. On the couple occasions when he'd found a cavity, he pushed some filling material in it without much drilling and without me needing any anesthesia. He said this was all that was needed. I believed him, mostly because I really wanted to. But finally, the nagging feeling in my mind surged forward enough that I started to question this reality. With no other dentist had I been able to go so long without a real filling, and never had I gotten such glowing reports on my teeth. See, I have the very thinnest of enamel on my teeth, the result of over-fluoridation of the water supply when my mother was pregnant with me. And that means cavities have been a normal part of my life, my entire life. So a dentist telling me all was well, time and again, felt great, but part of me knew it didn't seem right.
       Finally, when an old filling came out, I searched out a new dentist. I learned that this filling came out because there was a cavity around it that had not been repaired, for a long while. I found out I had two cracked teeth with bad fillings which ended up needing crowns. I found out there were cavities in several other teeth, and they weren't new. They should have been evident on the x-rays for at least several of my appointments. Even I could see them on the x-rays. And so began a year-long journey of replacing bad fillings, getting crowns, and getting new fillings on the cavities that had been ignored. And this, this was to be the last filling, and it was on the top, which meant it was much easier to deaden and should go easy. You can probably guess that not all went well.
       The actual appointment went great. The tooth deadened immediately, which is unusual for me. The drilling, filling, filing, and smoothing went great. My eye felt weird, but I didn’t worry about it much. I paid my bill, and started to leave. A lady in the waiting room spoke to me, I answered and smiled......and she laughed. Odd, I thought. So when I got in my car, I looked in the mirror and smiled. And laughed. One whole half of my face didn't work at all. At ALL!! It did look funny. After I got home, and Ashley and Scott had their laugh, I went on about the day. But my face didn't....not for quite a few hours. It took about six hours before my face started working correctly. But it didn't end there. It stayed swollen like a chipmunk for two days. And now, five days later, it still has a golf ball sized bruise on my cheek. Perhaps you can understand why I hate to visit the dentist. The oddest things happen to me, and I won't even go into all the trouble they usually have getting my teeth to deaden.
       Here's what I found interesting. If the paralysis, swelling, and bruising had not been present, no one would have known I'd had work done. But in this case, work done on the inside was reflected on the outside. I started thinking about my Christian walk. What is done in my soul, in my mind and heart, in my life, will show on the outside. If I am maturing in my faith, people should be able to see that by the way I live. If I am growing more like Christ, that should be evident to those around me. If I am stagnant in my walk, that will show too. Luke 6:45 tells us “A good person produces good things from the treasury of a good heart, and an evil person produces evil things from the treasury of an evil heart. What you say flows from what is in your heart.” What is inside us comes out. It shows on the outside. A good vine produces good fruit while a bad vine can only produce bad fruit.
       What happens inside me will show in the way I live. So it comes down to what do I want my life to be. Do I want to be a weak, marginal Christian who just gets by, or do I want to be filled with God's power, love, grace, mercy, and wisdom? I can say whatever I want, but that is worth nothing. If I truly long for the Christian life God wants me to have, I will work for it. I will read my Bible, spend time in prayer, attend church, and have a real relationship with Jesus. It's completely up to me. And you will know my decision as you see me either grow and mature, or stagnate, or even retreat. I pray you will see me grow, and I hope you will join me in the journey.

Like a Chicken on a June Bug

Seventeen two day old chickens. That's what became the source of great amusement in my life over the last week or so.  I've had chickens before but never brand new, just hatched babies. Who knew how positively hilarious they could be! They are still at the age that they need a heat lamp, even though it's so hot outside that my skin tries to melt off when I walk out of the air conditioning. And as it turns out, horseflies love the heat lamp. They can't keep away from it. It draws them like, well, like a moth to a light. That saying could easily be changed to horseflies to lights. I also knew that chickens liked bugs, (chickens on a June bug, anybody?), but I really had no idea that two day old chicks could snag a horsefly in mid-flight. They can, and they are quite adept at it. Here's the part that has kept me amused for the last week. It becomes a soccer match. One chick catches the horsefly and, with it in his mouth, runs as fast as fast can be, round and round, back and forth, all around. The other sixteen chicks give chase. Some run behind him, others set up and wait till he comes by, but all eyes are on the chick with the horsefly. When another chick snatches the horsefly out of the first one's mouth, it starts again, in another direction, with sixteen chicks chasing the new possessor of the horsefly. Round and round they go, with the horsefly changing hands, er beaks, like some crazy speed fueled soccer game. It only ends when one of the chicks manages to swallow the bug, or another unfortunate horsefly enters the arena. It's better than ESPN.

It makes me think of how we humans act sometimes. One of our neighbors gets a new car, a new boat, a promotion, a bigger house, a younger wife, or his kids are in the honor society. Do we sit back and congratulate him, resting in our own accomplishments? No, we decide WE need the newest, biggest, best toy, or start to wonder why our spouse has let themselves go, or why our kid isn't in the gifted program. Instead of enjoying what we do have, we start to feel dissatisfied. We feel like we don't have what we deserve. We chase after someone else's life as if it were the one thing that could make us happy. We look like a little chick running behind them, hoping to snatch the prize from their beaks.

But what if....? What if instead of chasing after things, material or personal, accomplishments, etc....what if we were so filled with Jesus that people were chasing after us to get our prize? What if the way we exhibited our love for Jesus was so strong, so pure, and so desirable that others could not resist? And what if instead of running from them to keep it to ourselves, we ran to them and offered it up? What if we knew that we had an endless supply, and that sharing it with others would actually increase our own supply? Not just knew it in our heads, but believed it in our hearts so strongly that we lived that way? Can you imagine what that would be like?

I can, because I've seen it. Read the New Testament. Jesus lived his life in such a way that people up and left their jobs, their families, their homes, everything, just to follow him. There was nothing on this earth that could keep them away. They wanted what he had, what he was, and they followed after him like little chicks. Everyone? No, not at all. Just the ones who truly desired to be like him and were willing to give up self. And then he was gone. Did everyone go away, give up? No, the disciples kept running to people, offering them the prize they knew they had, and the one they knew others needed. They understood what they had and how important it was to share it. They didn't just share it with the people who happened into their church. No, they went out seeking others. They wanted everyone to have their gift so much, that they gave up their very lives to spread the gospel.

What, or who, are you chasing? Are you so satisfied with Jesus that you resist the siren call of coveting others' lives, possessions, and talents? And are you so aware of the value of the gift you have, the gospel, that you share it openly, willingly, with everyone, not waiting for them to ask for something they don't know they need, but explaining why they do? Consider it and see if there are some changes you need to make.

Time To Break Camp And Move On

The capacity of human beings to adapt to circumstances is incredible. Have you ever watched footage of shelling in a war zone? I am always amazed to see people walking around, going to the market, walking to school, hanging out their laundry. There are bombs falling around them and they are going on with their day. Why? They've adapted to a new normal. Things have to be done, and so they just do them. What about people living in neighborhoods where drug deals are commonplace, gangs control the streets, and drive by shootings are regular occurrences? There are kids playing, people going to work, and moms sitting at the kitchen table helping kids finish homework. How? They've adapted to what is normal in their lives. Think about the family that is dealing with a loved one with a terminal disease, the woman in an abusive relationship, the person suffering debilitating depression, the homeless, the soldier who is shot at every day. Humans find a way to live with astonishing circumstances, and continue on.

Sometimes adapting is positive. Life does indeed have to go on. We can't just stop everything because of difficult circumstances. But sometimes, adapting can lead to accepting things we could change if we tried. Working in the mental health field, one of the most frustrating things was trying to help people realize how sick they really were. Perhaps they'd been depressed for years, and since it had worsened slowly over time, they couldn't see how far they had really fallen. And when you can't see you are in a hole, you don't look for help, or even accept help that is offered. People that have addictions often don't recognize how much of their life it has overtaken. People with mental illness and emotional disorders are masters of adapting to what is normal for them, and not seeing reality.

In a similar way, people who are lost don't recognize their need for a Savior. And people who are backslidden don't recognize how far they've moved away from God. And so they rest there. They set up camp and plant their flag and refuse to move. They become complacent. They accept things the way they are, and even begin to like it there. It is comfortable. It is familiar. It's not frightening, because they know what to expect there. And so, while God has much better things in mind for them, they instead stay stalled in their misery. They remain right where they are, and adapt to the circumstances, and therefore, miss the blessings God has waiting, just ahead if they would just step forward in faith.

Faith is action. Saying “I believe” is easy. Doing something based on that belief is where real faith lies. Look around you. Have you been camped in the same comfortable spot, refusing to move for a while now? Is God urging you to move forward? Don't let complacency and acceptance become your downfall. 

The Cheese Stands Alone

Today, I thought I'd share an oldie, but a goodie. I wrote this one when Ashley was 3, back in 2007. Seeing all the young adults graduate this week has made me nostalgic. For the seniors, and all of us, it is good to know that we have Someone who goes with us, always.

Image from http://josiesniece.blogspot.com

I've been reading books of nursery rhymes to Ashley lately, and teaching them to her, just as parents have done throughout the years. They are like old familiar friends from childhood. They have nice rhythm and rhyme. They bring back memories of carefree days, youthful innocence, and uninhabited laughter. I think they are as much fun for me as they are for her.

But as I read them, I have to wonder about them. What kind of weirdos wrote these things? I'm not even going to start on fairy tales....that's a whole other ball game. Sticking to nursery rhymes, think about them. For the most part they make no sense. There is no story line, no moral, no reason for the things that happen. “Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon. The little dog laughed to see such a sight, and the dish ran away with the spoon.” Why did the cat have a fiddle, and was his playing so bad that the cow jumped all the way over the moon to get away? And why a cow? Cow can't even jump. Why not an animal that might have a chance at jumping over the moon....maybe a kangaroo, or a rabbit....or how about a flea? I can’t think of any fleas in nursery rhymes, although there are spiders and flies. There are also a disproportionate number of mice. There are the three blind mice that lose their tails to the butcher's wife, which is kind of sad and shows that she is either really sadistic, or has really bad aim. There are the three mice that ran up the clock, but we don't know why. We just know that when the clock strikes, they run back down. Also, notice mice often come in threes. That may help you if you are setting mouse traps.

There is also a mouse in the farmer in the dell. I remember singing this little ditty when I was small, but now I notice it leaves many questions unanswered. Let me refresh your memory. “The farmer in the dell, the farmer in the dell, hi ho the dairy-o, the farmer in the dell.” The song goes on, with the farmer taking his wife, the wife taking the child, the child taking the dog, the dog taking the cat, the cat taking the mouse, the mouse taking the cheese, but the cheese stands alone. We don't know where they are all going, how they are getting there, or why. I'd like to know where they found a dog, at cat and mouse that don't chase each other and a wife that doesn't mind a mouse as a traveling companion. But notice this...none of them are alone. They all have someone they can take, except of course for the cheese, who is probably dinner anyway. None of us are ever alone either. We all have Someone we can take, anywhere, everywhere, always, regardless of where we are going and why. And not only does our Someone go with us, He helps us, supports us, guides us, advises us, protects us, and loves us along the way. In fact, He never leaves us. He doesn't fall asleep on the job like little boy blue. He doesn't run away like Georgie Porgy or little Miss Muffett. And while Mary had a little lamb, we are His little lambs.

Our lives are not nursery rhymes, which is good, because they don't seem to end happily very often. But just like the songs had an author who created the characters and put them in their situations, we have an Author who created us and placed us exactly where He wanted us. Fortunately, our Author isn't just trying to make a funny song with no concern for the characters' best interests. All He asks in return is all we are and all we have. That may seem like a lot, but the truth is, once we give that to Him, He gives us so much more in return. God's math defies our scientific laws.

Nursery rhymes are fun. Children love them and just enjoy them for their fun and simplicity. They don't questions the wheres, whys, or hows. And that's good. They'll have plenty of questions to worry about as they grow up. I'm thankful for their innocence, trust, and fun spirit. I'm also thankful for the questioning mind God gave me. Most of all, I'm thankful for God's endless love.

We Just Have a Few Questions, Ma'am

“Mom, there's some men here. I think it's the police.” Those words got my attention real quick. What on earth? I stepped into the garage to find two men in green uniforms standing with arms folded, two green pick-ups in the yard, and a very confused look on my face. Before I could process it, they said they were looking for Scott. “We just have some questions, ma’am.” At least they were unfailingly polite. After explaining that he was at work and wouldn't be home for another five hours, they said they'd wait. In my yard. For five hours. Things just got real!

It took some doing to find out what they even wanted, because Scott's the one they wanted to question. They told me they were there about the white turkey. I said ok. Ashley piped up and informed them it was a “boy turkey”. They seemed surprised and I started to understand. Yep, white turkey, had a beard, had some spurs, makes it a male, right? Not necessarily, they informed me. Thirty percent of hens have beards. I don't hunt turkeys. I'm a deer hunting girl, and if it has horns I WILL assume it is a buck and I will put it in my freezer. Turkeys are too much trouble for me but apparently you have to examine their tiny little beady heads to determine if it's male. From a distance, while they are moving around and while you are trying to stay hidden from an animal that has the best eyesight of anything we hunt, you are to check the head. Perhaps with a scope you could. We bow hunt.

The storm of the century, (well, the month anyway) was rolling in. Tornadoes had hit the day before and more were expected, so this worked in my favor. The game wardens didn't really want to sit in my yard all day and wait on the tornadoes. They let me know their boss wanted to verify the turkey wasn't on the premises. I told them, AGAIN, that it was in the freezer in Pine Hill and I would quite gladly take them to it. Nope, need to search my freezers first. I pulled open the doors and invited them to knock themselves out. I asked them to let me know if they found anything that looked interesting for supper. One of the freezers in the garage is full of hides that Scott donates to taxidermists. They examined each and every one of them. They went through the bags of meat we'd had processed, taking out every package, to be sure nothing was hidden beneath it. They were quite thorough. When they finished the freezers, they asked to be taken to the white turkey. They followed us to Pine Hill, and took the turkey out of the freezer to examine it, where they discovered that yes, indeed, it did have a beard and spurs. They couldn't get to much of the head, because it was frozen beneath the wing, but they finally decided that if it was a hen, it was an honest mistake and they'd let it go. This is when one of them pulled out a folder and showed me why they were there. Scott and Tim, proud of the solid white turkey which was quite legal, had posted pictures on hunting websites. Someone tipped the game wardens that it was a hen, and they had to investigate. Then they showed me the search warrants for my freezers. Search warrants people! Imagine how that feels. They thanked me for not making them use the warrants I didn't know they had. I told them we had absolutely nothing to hide. They said that was evident in the way I let them search. They let us go home where it took me hours to get my emotions in check. I was shaken, and annoyed, and thankful.

I knew we had not done anything wrong, on purpose. But there are so many regulations, it is easy to miss one. It's the first white turkey Scott had killed and he had looked it up before he killed it, but who knows what other laws we may not know about. Knowing they suspected we were criminals felt awful. Knowing they had gone to a judge and gotten search warrants? Wow, I can't even convey what that feels like. The whole thing felt like we were trying to prove our innocence when we didn't even know the charges. It was scary. Innocent people do go to jail sometimes.

I'm so grateful that God doesn't work that way. He doesn't sit back, trying to catch us sinning. He doesn't arrive on our doorsteps and demand we prove our innocence. He isn't vindictive or grudge-bearing. His desire when we've sinned is to restore a right relationship, not to punish. And His laws are straight forward and unchanging. I don't have to worry that I broke one that I had never even heard of or that had changed since the last time I read them. No, God is unchanging, faithful, forgiving, and compassionate.

The game wardens were professional and polite. They were doing their job. I have no hard feelings toward them. But I have a whole new view of those who are accused. Accusations do not equate to guilt. This is why our legal system demands proof. And though it is not a perfect system, it's still the best one out there. 

No More Brace Face

Today was an exciting day in the Fletcher household. After 2 ¼ years, Tim got his braces off. His teeth are now straight, which makes his mama happy, and he can now eat apples, sticky foods, popcorn, and even gum, which makes him happy. It was a long and often painful process, not to mention expensive, but in the end, it was all worth it to see that perfect smile.

Having braces is no fun. I hated them when I had them just as much as Tim hated his. They are uncomfortable at best, and painful at worst. Just when they stop hurting, you have to get them adjusted, which results in raw sore lips and mouth and aching teeth and jaws. You are constantly aware of them, of the things you are forbidden to eat because of them, and of the siren call of those forbidden foods trying to lure you in to sneak that which you should not have. You are conscious of them when having your picture made, when you smile at people, and when you speak. As I said, they are no fun.

I find the braces to be an interesting analogy of our walk with the Lord and to His corrections. We want to be like Jesus, perfect, sinless, spotless, but we are crooked, sinful, and broken. The only way to reach a more perfect state is though His correcting us, but we don't look forward to it. Oh, we want the end result. We want to look in the mirror and be proud of what we see. But the process for getting there? It's often no fun. We have to see our broken, sinful, crooked life and make changes in order to reach a more Christ-like existence. But it's not easy. Those changes can hurt. They can be frustrating and hard and take a long time. They can make us conscious of our failures, and that is unpleasant to face. They can leave us raw, and sore, and aching. They can make us feel the siren call of the forbidden fruits we are trying to avoid. Yes, those changes can be painful and difficult. But we can not grow without them. And just like with braces, when you finally stop the aching as you reach one goal, it's time to make another change, to make another adjustment, starting the process over again. We don't quit just because we accomplished one improvement.

One thing we noticed with the braces was that the adjustments at the beginning were much more painful than those toward the end. This is because the changes that needed to be made at the beginning were greater than those at the end. The same is true with our walk with Christ. In the beginning, we have great need for enormous change. But as we become more and more like Him, our short-comings tend to be smaller. If we are continuing to strive to be like Him, then we catch new issues before they become big issues, so they are dealt with quicker and easier. And we trust the process more, and fight it less.

Finally, Tim was less than pleased to learn he would have to wear retainers to help keep his teeth from migrating. After all that time, money, pain, and trouble, we certainly don't want that work to be in vain. Our walk with Christ is the same. We must do something to keep us from falling back into our old ways. What do we use as retainers? Prayer. Bible reading. Worship. Church. Spiritual mentors. More prayer.

Over the next days and weeks, Tim will get used to not having the braces. He will be able to enjoy eating some of his favorite foods with greater ease. He will get used to a nice smile reflecting back from the mirror. He will enjoy the ease of brushing his teeth without navigating miles of metal. And he will be tempted to become complacent with his routines. He will not want to wear the retainers, because they are irritating and inconvenient and unpleasant. And the danger is that the teeth will begin to ease back into their old positions. The movement is so slow, glacial really, that he won't notice until one day when he tries to put his retainer in and it won't fit. In the same way, when we overcome a weakness, a sin area, we are tempted to bask in our accomplishment and become complacent. And we don't notice the sin creeping back in until one day, we are shocked when we find ourselves doing that thing we thought we'd never do again.

Braces are a blessing. They correct problems, improve our smiles and our lives, and prevent further deterioration. They are not pleasant while you have them, but the results are worth the effort. God's corrections are a blessing. They correct problems, improve our lives, and prevent further distance from Him. They also are not pleasant while they are happening, but the results are well worth the discomfort. Thank God for His work in our lives.

Christian Peeps

Do you have a favorite Easter candy? Some people love Cadbury Eggs, others can't resist biting the ears off a chocolate bunny. I'm a simple jelly bean kind of girl. Scott is a huge lover of Peeps. I don't understand the devotion to a stale marshmallow covered in colored sugar cut into a cute shape, but it turns out that I'm in the minority on this one. According to their website, Peeps have been the most popular non-chocolate Easter candy for the last decade, and over 4.2 billion are sold each year. That's a lot of marshmallows! Who would have dreamed that a little handmade treat that took 27 hours to make in the 1950s would turn into an empire, with a following of over 200 fan websites, or that the Peep would become gourmet favorites as fondues, pizza toppings, crème brulee ingredients, and cappuccino toppings? Can ice cream be far behind? By the way, it now takes only 6 minutes to make a chick. Modern machinery is amazing.

I'm afraid that there are far too many Christians with Peep-like attributes. Too often we put on a lovely colored sugar coating to hide our bland, soft, insubstantial inner self. We say the right things, we act the right way in public, and we hide behind sweet but shallow interpretations of our faith. But the truth is that the marshmallow middle still shows through in even the best coated Peep, and even the best act a Christian puts on allows glimpses into the real person inside. If we only 'act' like a Christian, we end up only fooling ourselves. If we do not mature spiritually, we remain soft and gooey on the inside, with little to offer others. But if we dispense with the pretty covering and work to deepen our faith, increase our knowledge, and grow our relationship with our Lord, then we become solid inside, knowing what we believe and why, and willing and able to share it with others.

I'm afraid peep describes many Christians in another way too. We each should be broadcasting the most important message there is to as many people as we can. And yet, barely a peep. We share recipes, hunting and fishing and golf and football stories, pictures of our kids, news of a great sale, stories of awful experiences, and even the mundane details of our everyday lives with other people. But the Gospel? Barely a peep. I've had people I was barely acquainted with tell me amazingly personal things about their life, medical problems, family, and financial issues. But the Gospel? Rarely a peep. Are we as God's people going to be peeps, or trumpeters? Whisperers or announcers? Timid or bold? Useful to the Kingdom or insignificant? I want to be a bold announcer, trumpeter, broadcaster. I never want to be a peep.

Today, we celebrate Easter, the holiday that is most meaningful to me. Christmas is only the beginning of the story. Without Easter, nothing else matters. The enemies thought they won when they killed Jesus, but they could not keep Him dead. The grave couldn't hold Him. Death couldn't restrain Him. Satan couldn't beat Him. And because of this, we are victors too. Jesus won the battle for us, without our help. We didn't do it, but we benefit from it.


Easter Sunday: the day we loudly proclaim “He's alive!!, He's alive!!! He's alive and I'm forgiven, heaven's gates are open wide!” It's the day we celebrate His, and through Him our own victory over death and sin. But don't stop proclaiming it tomorrow when the eggs are all gone and the crosses come down and life returns to normal. Proclaim His resurrection tomorrow, and the next day, and next week and next month. Proclaim it to everyone, always. It's the balm a hurting world needs. So be a trumpeter instead of a peep.

Ow, Ow, Ow

I had a dental procedure last week that resulted in a great deal of pain, which has been my main focus over the last 8 days. An interesting thing about tooth pain is how pervasive it is. If your leg hurts, you try to avoid walking on it, prop it up, put a heating pad on it perhaps. If your stomach hurts, you may eat soothing foods or take some Pepto or Tums to help the problem. If your head hurts, you close your eyes, massage your temples, take a nap even. If your teeth hurt, you.....suffer. There really is very little you can do to stop the pain. They did give me pain meds, but it wore off every 3-4 hours, setting up a vicious cycle. Heat, cold, eating, starving....nothing really helps. Sleep only comes in 3 hour increments as the medication waxes and wanes. The pain in my mouth eventually caused enough stress that I got savage headaches along with pain in the entire right side of my face. By the time I went back to the dentist a week later to ask for help, I was sleep deprived, short-tempered, quick to cry, and generally pitiful. The constant onslaught of pain had really worn me down.

When you are in a lot of pain, it becomes your main focus. It's nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. It's hard to care about anything else. It turns your focus inward, toward yourself. All you care about is making the pain stop. It doesn't matter that you have a million things to do, a family to care for, a job to finish.....the pain stays at the forefront of your mind, using up your attention, energy, and patience.

My pain was physical, and relatively short-lived. I know there are so many people suffering from long-term severe pain. I know people who are suffering physically, emotionally, and mentally. My heart hurts for them, and for the way pain is relentless. Whether it comes from a physical ailment or loss of a loved one or depression, the pain is very real and it negatively affects the quality of life.

One of the things I noticed while in pain is that, having a medical background, I look for concrete things to reduce the pain. I had medication, I tried heat, I tried salty water, I even tried Yarrow plant, which was a lot like chewing slightly minty grass and not especially pleasant. It wasn't until I was reduced to tears, laying in bed and ready to dissolve that I would remember to ask the Great Physician for help. I had a number of friends send messages that they were praying for me, and it would prompt me to pray for me too. During this time, I realized that I am quick to send up prayers for others, and yet, I fail to ask for help for myself. This is not some noble trait where I don't want to bother God over my needs. Rather, it is a failure on my part to trust him and to turn to him first. It is not wrong for me to try other methods to help, but it is wrong when I turn to them exclusively, or when I go to God as a last resort.

The other thing that really hit home with me during this minor trial in my life was how important it was for others to pray. When I couldn't think through the pain to pray for help, others did it for me. As I think back over the hardest times in my life, I know that having people praying carried me. When Tim was a tiny mite and was in the hospital with pneumonia, though they didn't yet know what it was, I called on friends to pray, because I couldn't even think of words to say. When my grandmother died and my heart was crushed, friends held me up with their prayers. When my dad was so very sick in the hospital and I was terrified I might lose him, the prayers of many sustained me. Knowing that people were lifting me up made all the difference.

Pain, regardless of the type or cause, fear, anxiety...they all take our focus off God and turn it inside. The remedy is prayer. We have to remember to go to God first for our needs. And we need to remember how important it is to pray for others in need, and to let them know you are lifting them up. It can make all the difference in the world.

The Death of a Vile Man

Fred Phelps passed away on March 19, 2014. You may not know his name, but I bet you know his works. He was the founder of Westboro Baptist Church, the group famous for picketing at funerals and demonstrating anywhere a camera might be found. Of all the sins in the world, they have laser-focused in on homosexuality, declaring that God hates homosexuals and anyone else who doesn't also hate them. They use the most vile language to get their point across, and are as hurtful as possible along the way. Phelps was a man filled with anger and hatred, fear and arrogance. He did an immeasurable amount of damage in God's name, without really knowing God at all.

Phelps's family has been torn apart by his beliefs. Most of his so called church members are family, and anyone who leaves the church is kicked out of the family. This extended even to his death in that his own children who had left the church were prevented from seeing him on his death bed by church members. Phelps's beliefs hurt a lot of people personally, but they also did a lot of damage to believers in general. His group was quick to appear where publicity could be found, and because of their hate-filled message, reporters were quick to seek them out. They became the poster children for the world's view that Christians are intolerant and that intolerance leads to oppression, hatefulness, and harm. Many have been judged by the actions of a few, even though the few did not really represent the many. No one in the media seemed to bother with the fact that, though Westboro claimed to be Baptist, they did not display ANY of the characteristics that makes one Baptist. Their beliefs were not in line with any Christian beliefs. How many people, searching for something bigger than themselves, interested in God, looked at the news and decided they wanted no part of it after seeing what so-called Christians did?

In case it wasn't clear, I did not like Fred Phelps. I hate everything he did, everything he stood for, and all of the damage he left in his wake. As the daughter of a veteran with great respect for those who serve our country, I am incensed at those who would dare to protest at a service person's funeral. As a person of faith, I hate the way they have twisted the message of love, repentance and salvation into a message of hatred and exclusion. I am not sorry that he's gone, and I pray his church dissolves, although I know that isn't likely as there was already new leadership in place before he died.

I am not sorry that he's gone, but I am sad that he died without the Truth. I saw lots of people celebrating his death, and making comments about wanting to protest his funeral, but when I heard of his death, I was saddened that another one was lost forever. Celebrating his death, protesting at his funeral....those are the same actions he would have carried out, and as Christians, we can't let that infect us. We can not lower ourselves to the same depravity that we despised in him. We can't condemn his lack of love and compassion, and then show the same lack of love and compassion toward him and his family. We must love our enemies, and we should feel sorrow when anyone, anyone at all, is lost in darkness. God desires all to be saved, and so should we.

It's hard. There are people, like Phelps, like Bin Laden, like rapists and murderers and child abusers, that are easy to hate, hard to love, and even harder to want to see saved. There is a reason people say “There's a special place in hell for someone like that.” Our human nature wants to see the vilest people punished, and we want them punished into eternity. We don't feel like they deserve to be saved. They were evil, and they deserve hell. News flash: so did you. So did I. So did we all. I never flew a plane into a building. I never picketed at a funeral or spewed hateful language at someone whose lifestyle I disagree with. I never killed someone or hurt a child. But I've committed other sins, quite a long list of them in fact. And according to God's word, it only takes ONE for me to deserve an eternity apart from Him. One lie. One time not honoring my parents. One time not honoring God. Just one. And that one sin is enough to condemn me to the same fate it is easy to wish on Phelps or Bin Laden or Manson.

When I did not deserve it, Jesus died for me. He died for you. And He died for Fred Phelps too. Let's show His love to the world by not hating as Phelps did, but desiring all to know the Truth. Let's be the light on the hill we are called to be.

Don't Be a Bubblehead

Some people have pets that just lay in their laps and snuggle. We have characters. Our latest additions to our family are no different. Bonnie and Clyde, two kittens Ashley got for Christmas, are aptly named, as they are quite the trouble makers. They play the piano at night, and between me and you, their concerto needs some work. They rearrange things for us, like ALL the books from the bookshelf that they decided looked nicer spread out on the floor in the hall. And woe to the person who leaves papers laying anywhere, because those slide on the floor, and therefore, may or may not ever be found again, wherever the kittens got bored. I'd say nothing they do surprises me anymore, but Wednesday Bonnie managed to surprise me.

Ashley and I were on the way home from piano lessons when Tim called, laughing hysterically to let me know Bonnie was in a predicament. I arrived home to find her lying in Ashley's room, happily playing with toys....with a hamster ball stuck on her head. The gerbil was safely in his cage, but it seems Bonnie decided to stick her head all the way in the ball next to the cage, just to check it out. Before we got home, she had tried to visit with Psycho Kitty, who generally is her buddy. But seeing the bubble headed monster coming at him made him completely lose his mind. He fled like the hounds of hell were after him, and Bonnie gave chase. Psycho Kitty finally made it Tim's bed, and poor Bubble Headed Bonnie couldn't make the jump. So she wandered off to play. I found her lying in the floor, playing with toys and with Clyde looking at her in pity. She was happy to scratch at her toys, but got aggravated when she couldn't get them to her mouth to bite. Clyde kept patting her head, or her bubble, confused. The whole situation was hilarious.

Before you think we are just cruel, yes, Tim did his best to get the ball off before I got home, but it was stuck fast. I oiled Bonnie's head and neck, but it still wouldn't slide off. Finally, we had to cut the ball off her head. She took all of this in stride, like it was just another day. The worst part of the ordeal for her was having to get a bath to wash the oil out of her fur. I must say I didn't particularly enjoy that either. Ever bathe a cat? It's like juggling a running chainsaw!

I wonder what Bonnie saw from within the ball. While it is transparent, it is cheap plastic, kinda wavy, and it has air slots in sections, so the view is segmented. I can't imagine it is a clear view. And yet, it didn't seem to bother her. I began thinking about how many people have a distorted worldview and how they don't notice it. Your worldview is very important. It is the lens through which you view everything and it affects your understanding, interpretation, and reactions. A person with a humanistic worldview will see things things quite differently than one with a Christian worldview. And if you see God as a benevolent grandfather type, you will think differently than someone who sees God as aloof, or vengeful, or unknowable.

Because your worldview affects so much of your life, it is important that you know what you believe, and why you believe that. Is it because it's truth that you learned in the Bible, or is it because it's how your family believes? Too many people have been led astray by just going with the flow, not making sure that what they believed was founded in the Bible's truth. Believing something sincerely doesn't make it truth. As wonderful as your own parent's may have been, that doesn't make their views truth. Just because your favorite preacher said it, doesn't make it truth. Be certain that your belief system does not contain flaws, because it really does color every decision you make. Are you certain your view is not distorted?

One Hand Clapping

There is a game show, Cash Cab, on the Discovery Channel, where they surprise people who get in the cab by having them answer questions for cash on the way to their destination. Miss three questions and you are out on the street, looking for a new cab. I watched an episode a while back that made me think. One of the questions was about an ancient question from Zen Buddhism: “What is the sound of one hand clapping?”. They mentioned that it was the subject of great debate. I thought it was ridiculous to spend time debating such a silly question, but especially silly as a debate amongst religious “masters”. But then I remembered that famous question, “How many angels can dance on the point of a pin?” This debate became so big that the pope actually appointed St. Thomas Aquinas to use logic to decide if angels were material or spiritual to decide if they could dance on a pin.

People love to debate things, even things that seem to be useless or ridiculous. If a tree falls in the forest and there is no one around to hear it, does it make a sound? If an author writes a great novel and there is no one alive at the time who is able to fully comprehend or appreciate it, is it still a great novel? OK, before I get a phone call trying to explain to me the actual importance of such questions, let me just say I do understand the underlying issues that actually are important, and that these debates have led to scientific thought and discoveries, philosophical and religious ideas, and that thinking is always a good thing (for most people anyway). These just aren't the questions that I spend a lot of time on. Granted, I am not a philosopher or a theologian or even a great mind, so there's no reason for me to ponder them excessively.

The Bible leads any thinking person to questions we could never answer. How is it possible for God to have always existed? How can He not have been created? Where did He come from if no one made Him? Oh wait, He didn't come from anywhere because He always existed. OK, He could always exist because He created time...before He created time, there was no time, so there was no “time” for Him to have not existed in. But wait, if He created time, to us there would be a time before time was created, but to Him, not being bound by time, is there such a thing as a time before He created time?Uh...moving on. What did He do before He created us? Did He have other projects? Does He have other projects now? Is there another universe somewhere with other beings He created, maybe even having their own time that is different from ours? (OK, the time thing bugs me.). Why didn't the termites eat a hole in the ark? Where is the garden of Eden? What happened to the flaming swords and cherubim who were set as guards when Adam and Eve were evicted? After they were evicted, did Adam and Eve ever stand outside looking at what they'd lost and wish for the good old days? Did their children or grandchildren ever try to go in, and thus encounter the cherubim or swords? And what happened to the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil? OK, now my brain hurts and I need to go rest it.

It may be interesting to ponder such things, and even debate some of them. For the most part, it is harmless. It only becomes a problem when we let it divide us as Christians or we let it take the place of more serious Bible study and time with God. So let your mind ask questions you can't answer on the small stuff, but be certain you have a firm understanding of what and why you believe the big things: who God is, how to be saved, why Jesus came, etc. And if you figure the whole “time before time” thing out, let me know so my brain can rest.

photo credit: darkmatter via photopin cc

Loving the Unlovable

Last week, I talked about a lesson we could learn from a difficult situation my children and I are encountering. I discussed how the actions of a church member reflects on their church and on Christianity in general. This week, I'd like to look at a lesson we can learn from being on the other side of the behavior...the victims, as it were.

As I mentioned last week, a group of us are being treated in a way we feel is extremely unfair and unkind. It's always surprising to be mistreated, but when it is at the hands of other Christians, it seems shocking to us. How could those who claim to love Christ treat others in such a way? And yet, one only has to look a short way into the history of Christianity to find us hurting one another. It's not a new phenomenon, and sadly, it continues. A few years ago when I had been absolutely crushed by a couple of Christian women, a friend sagely told me that “Christian soldiers are the only ones that stab their own in the back.” The fact that that's a saying is telling, and it's not a good story it tells.

After “the last straw” event occurred in the situation I mentioned last week, and we had to go back to that place the next week, (and again, I apologize for the ambiguity, but I have no desire to disparage either the people or the church I am dealing with), Ashley and I had a good talk. She really didn't want to go, and I honestly didn't either, although I was trying to mask that feeling for her sake. She was upset that we had to go back to a place we obviously weren't wanted. She was angry at being mistreated. She was hurt and disillusioned and all the other feelings that come with being ten years old and having experienced so little of the world's ugliness to this point. As I explained that we still had to go, Bible verses started coming to me. Thank you, Holy Spirit! Luke 6 tells us “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone slaps you on one cheek, turn to them the other also. If someone takes your coat, do not withhold your shirt from them. Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you.” We read this to our children. We preach it from the pulpits. We spout it to others who are in distress. But do we live it? Ashley and I talked about what it means to do good to those who hate you, and to bless those who curse you. We talked about treating people with grace, even when they don't deserve it, because of course, that's when they need grace. We talked about God's grace extended to us all. And that led to something beautiful.

Unfairness. I think the unfairness of the situation is what was the real sticking point here. If we have a disagreement with someone, if we have done something back to them, if we have contributed to the situation in some way, we can understand being treated badly. But when we really have done nothing at all that we can see, it just feels more unfair. And here's where the Holy Spirit really stepped in to give me words. We may not have wronged these particular people. We may not have actually contributed to the dispute this time. But we have wronged people. We have hurt others, sinned against them, sometimes accidentally and sometimes fully on purpose. We are sinners. Jesus, on the other hand, never once sinned. He never once wronged anyone, and yet he was treated beyond unfairly. It hurts us in a special way when we are mistreated and we feel we were right, but imagine if you'd never, ever, wronged anyone. Ever! Jesus' whole life, His very human existence, was an exercise of grace and mercy to save the very people who hated him. He never sinned, and yet people spit on Him, threw things, hit Him, beat Him, said the vilest of things to and about Him. They placed the crown of thorns upon His precious head, they pounded nails in His flesh, they hoisted Him up on the cross, and they continued to hurl insult and blasphemy upon Him. And He responded, not in indignation or anger or despair, but in love and forgiveness. Even as they continued to mock Him, He implored His father to forgive them. We read these words, we know the stories, and yet, saying them aloud, trying to convey to Ashley how unfairly He was treated, and how minor our injury is compared to His, was so powerful. Tears snaked down my face as I tried to express the emotion to her. No story is more powerful. Hatred and fear and evil met love and forgiveness, and grace prevailed. We need more love and forgiveness, and less righteous indignation. We need more mercy and grace. We need more Jesus.

I won't mislead you and say all the hurt went away in that moment. But it lessened. And it continues to lessen as we continue to focus on loving others, even as Jesus loves us at our most unlovable times.

Examine Your Reflection

My kids and I are currently dealing with an ugly situation. I'm being purposely vague so I apologize for the lack of details, but the point here is not to identify the people who are acting in such a way, but what we can learn from it. The basic situation is that our group has to use another church's building. Even though we pay them for the use of the facilities, over the last several months, a couple of staff members of that church have become progressively more hostile and unkind. Last week it got bad enough that something had to be done. I don't know how it will all play out, but for the time being, we are still meeting there. There are dozens of lessons we could talk about relating to this situation, but I want to cover just one this week, and it's an important one.

How we as church members act reflects on our entire church. I will admit that I have very hard feelings at this point toward the church in question. The staff members we have dealt with have treated us like second class citizens at best. They have made us walk in the rain to enter a specific door, rather than the one that was open for them. They have left ugly signs on doors. They have left us standing in the cold. I won't say more, but it goes on and on. In speaking with the other people in our group who are experiencing this treatment, we all feel angry, hurt, and disgusted. We feel like we've gone above and beyond to make the situation work, but we are getting nothing from the other side but meanness. It is very easy to paint the entire church as hostile and unfriendly. But you know, I realized the other day, when I finally got my emotions out of the way, that we really don't know how many people in the church even know this is happening. There had been talk of “I can't believe their preacher lets them treat people like this,” and “I wonder how they welcome visitors here.” There was even some mocking of the church's motto which is prominently displayed on a sign out front, because it certainly wasn't being lived out by those we encountered. But emotion aside, we really don't know if the preacher knew what was happening before we finally had enough and he was contacted. We don't know that a single church member other than the two staff we'd dealt with had any clue this was going on. My point, however, is that it was very easy to think that they all were like the ones who are unkind. Whether we like it or not, as members of a church, we represent our church to those we encounter. They base their opinion of our church on those they meet. When they go to lunch and overhear folks trash talking the other church members, it makes a bad impression. When they hear you talking to your friend about how long winded the preacher is, how you don't like the music, how the Sunday School teacher doesn't study enough....those things do not make them want to visit your church. And if they do visit, and no one speaks to them, or conversely, they feel like they are being interrogated, that certainly doesn't encourage a repeat visit. Our behavior may be keeping them out of church. It's easy to say that folks will use any excuse to stay home, and that can be true, but that doesn't give us free reign to act like heathens, literally. We are supposed to be Christ-like, at all times, to all people. Cattiness, hostility, or indifference to people has no place in any Christian’s life.

In an even bigger sense, we represent Christians in general. Westboro Baptist Church has done enormous damage to the view others hold of Christians, because their behavior is decidedly not Christian at all. But they are the ones that show up on the news and everyone sees, and that's who they base their opinion on. All Catholic priests are not pedophiles, but non-Catholics judge the entire Catholic church as if they were. All televangelists are not adulterous money-grubbing thieves, but those who are tarnish the image for all. We must remember that we represent Christ to those in the world. What image are we projecting?

The situation with the church I mentioned above will get worked out eventually, one way or another. And I am praying for God to remind all of us to extend grace to one another. I don't want to harbor resentment or bitterness. It will take a little time for the damage to be mended, but I want to use it to grow in grace and mercy. And I will take the lessons to heart and remember that my behavior reflects on my church, and my Lord. I only want to reflect His love.

Cooking Up a Disaster

Some of you may know that I kind of like to cook. I'm not so much on cooking peas and cornbread every day, but I'd rather try new recipes. My family, for the most part, enjoys being my guinea pigs. I'm not expecting to get my own Food Network show anytime soon, but usually what I cook gets eaten. I'm also one of those people who looks at most recipes as suggestions. I can recognize what ingredients or spices my family is likely not to enjoy, and I can substitute something else that we will like. Or, I may see that it needs bacon or cheese (most recipes do, by the way). Around ninety-five percent of the time, it turns out well. Sometimes, the dogs get a meal. Experiments work that way. That's part of the fun. I used to collect cookbooks, but the internet has been a benefit to my recipe collection. I can now collect thousands, maybe millions of recipes, and they don't clutter up my kitchen anymore.

I love reading recipes on the internet, but I often get aggravated. You see, I find recipes I like, and I should just stop there. But no, I feel compelled to read the comments others have made below the recipe. I'm not sure why I torture myself this way. Every once in a while, I get a nugget of inspiration from the comments. Someone may share some helpful tip, like that you can shred cooked chicken breasts with a mixer rather than the time consuming two fork method. But the few helpful tips I get don't compare with the comments from the people I like to call the lazies and the whiners (sometimes also known as the dummies when I'm not feeling generous).

The lazies don't want to try anything on their own, but they also don't want to follow the recipe. They comment along the lines of “The recipe calls for chicken, but all I have is veal. Will that work?” Or “Sure it says use defrosted ground beef, but mine's frozen, so can I throw it in the crock pot anyway? How do I adjust the cooking time for that?” Or my favorite: “It calls for ¾ teaspoon of cocoa, but I don't have a measuring spoon that says ¾. What do I do? And can I use Nestle Quick instead?” They want someone else to do their figuring for them, to try their substitutions for them, and to think for them so they don't have to bother. They seem to think it's the recipe writer's responsibility to rework the recipe for their individual circumstances. They are annoying, but they are still better than the whiners.

The whiners get to me. They go their own way, but then want to gripe about how it didn't work, as if it is the recipe writer's fault. They swap out sour cream for cream of chicken soup, add ½ cup of hot sauce, throw in some sugar, cut the water in half because it sounds like too much, and increase the cooking time by an extra 30 minutes because they read one time that someone went blind from eating food that wasn't quite done. Then they complain that it didn't turn out good, was a waste of their money, and the recipe author is obviously a hack.

Some recipe posters are nice and try to answer questions. Others just ignore the comments, likely to save their sanity. I'm afraid I might have a sarcastic response or two if it were me. But the whole situation makes me think of how we treat God sometimes. We like to go our own way, and complain to Him when it doesn't work out. “Sure God, I felt you telling me not to date that person, so I married them. And now they've treated me so bad. How could you let this happen to me?” “Well, God, I know you don't like this particular behavior, but I only do it because (insert lame excuse here). Surely you won't hold that against me, right?” Or “I know it's not the right way to act, God, but every one else is doing it and I don't want to seem weird. If I ask you to make it all turn out ok, then I'm covered, right?”

God's law is His law. It's not situational. It isn't individual. It's not relative. Asking Him to make it all right when you do something wrong isn't going to change His mind, or remove natural consequences. If we are too lazy to learn His law, or if we insist on doing things our way, then we certainly have no right to complain when we pay the price for our actions. If we insist on cooking up a disaster, God will let us.

What about you? Are you following God's recipe for righteous living, or are you going rogue?

Would You Prefer Life As A Robot?

We had a field trip to tour the Hyundai plant in Montgomery this week, and it was truly astounding. The plant manufactures only two car models, and they put out somewhere around 1,100 cars per day. PER DAY!! That number is astonishing to me. It only takes a car 18 hours to be completed from start to finish, and that includes the nine or so hours it takes for the paint to dry. I do not remember how many individual parts they told us it takes to make the car (somewhere over 3000), but I do know it's unbelievable it can be finished in that amount of time. The plant was the picture of efficiency. It is an assembly line of a magnitude that is hard to imagine without seeing it for yourself. Every single thing they do, every movement they make is designed to make things move more efficiently. There are some 400 robots that perform tasks to make it move faster, safer, and more precisely. The front seats are placed inside the vehicle by robots to prevent strain on a human worker, and to place them exactly in line. The windshield is precisely placed by a robot. There are even carts that pick up supplies and take them to stations, following paths laid out by cables under the floor, completely unmanned. The workers on the production line do one job for about two hours, making the same movement over and over and over. Then they move to another job for another two hours, now making a new movement over and over and over. This is to keep them from getting bored, fatigued, or inattentive. It may be a new movement, but it is still a very small difference. Imagine spending two hours just placing one part on a vehicle, over and over, and then the next two hours placing a different part. Every day, the same thing. There is no time to goof off, no time for chatter, no time for building a relationship with the person next to you on the line. You pick up a part, put it on, pick up a part, put it on. So basically, at the plant you have robots and you have people who act like robots.

I understand why the company has it's workers perform in this manner. The more efficient they can be, the more profitable the company is, the safer the workers are, the higher the quality and safety of the car, and the less room for mistakes. It makes sense, from the company's point of view. But from a human view, I can't imagine anything more dreary than doing one thing all...day....long. Being a somewhat creative person, the lack of individuality here would make me nuts. I do see where some people would enjoy the structure of never having to think or make a decision, never having to wonder what to do next. I am not that person. I thrive on spontaneity.

Sometimes people ask why God would give people choices. Why does He give them the option to be disobedient and then punish them for disobeying? It is a valid question, but it all comes down to love. The Hyundai worker doesn't install the glove box door because he likes Hyundai, or because he likes the car. He doesn't even do it because he likes the way it looks or he loves glove boxes with doors. He does it because he has to. He has no choice if he wants to keep his job. If God forced us to obey Him by not giving us another option, that would not be obedience. If we have no other option than to serve Him, that is not love. He desires our love, devotion, and adoration. None of those can be coerced. They must be given freely. As a mother, I am not impressed when my child does something because I am standing over them making them do it. In fact, I'm annoyed that I had to do so. But I am thrilled when they spontaneously do something that shows they are thinking of others. That is love. I am moved when they obey me when they don't know I know about it. That is devotion. I turn mushy when they do something to show they love me. That is adoration, on a small scale. God gave us choices, so that we could choose love. It makes life messier, more uncertain, and sometimes more difficult, but it also makes it worth living. Thank you Lord. And I do indeed love and adore You.

I'll Never Leave You (Unless You Don't Get In the Car)

It was a cold, windy, and dreary night. I was anxious to get in the car and get warm. I jumped in the passenger side and cranked up the heater. Tim was driving, and Ashley started to get in the back, but as we will see, she apparently decided to talk to one of her friends and closed the door as she walked off to say something. We left the church, on the way to get gas, and I started telling the kids about choir practice. “We're singing the song you like Ashley, the one we listened to all week on the new CD.” Silence from the backseat. I sigh, thinking she's pretending to be asleep. I continue a conversation with Tim as we get to the main highway. I finally ask Ashley about some clothes she was supposed to get from a friend that night. Silence. I look back, but can't see her because I think she is behind me. I see a lump, and think she is curled up, still pretending to sleep. Aggravated, I threaten to take her tablet away if she doesn't answer me. Silence. And everything explodes in my head, because I KNOW something is not right if she won't answer to that threat. I twist around and see that the lump is actually a pile of jackets. Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness! I scream at Tim to go back, he has left my baby at church. By now we are at the 4-way stop of 10 and 5 and he's trying to figure out how to turn around legally. Now he wants to drive correctly??!! I make him spin the car around in the road and told him if the cops see us, they can follow us to church and deal with me, manic-mama. In my head, I see my baby, who in reality is ten and not a baby at all except to me, crying in the parking lot, crushed that we left her, thinking we won't come back, afraid, sobbing, terrified. Yes, I know, she's at church, the safest place I know, and there were people still there, and she'd be fine. I knew that in my head, but in my heart? In my heart I feel the pain of my baby girl, abandoned. Mama guilt is powerful.

When we finally make it back to church, after what felt like endless hours, although I suspect it was closer to two minutes, I find Ashley inside, along with several church members. Safe. Warm. Cared for. Loved. Did I mention safe? I could laugh at how ridiculous the situation was, and relieve all that built up stress. I could laugh when Ricky told me to take my phone off silent, he'd been trying to call me. Of course, the good church member I am, I had turned it off during church and choir practice. I never remember to turn it back on, they need to make a timer app for that. (Note to self: invent timer app for that and get rich, spend that money on tracking devices for my kids.) I could laugh, because it all turned out OK. And I could joke that I deserve the Mom-of-the-Year award. Hey, if Al Gore can win the Nobel Prize for his global warming work and President Obama can win the Nobel Peace Prize for.... um.....whatever it was, I should win an award of great honor for forgetting my child, right?

On the way home, as I was “explaining” to Tim that the driver is responsible for making sure everyone is in and buckled up, and I was “explaining” to Ashley that you don't start to get in, and then leave without telling anyone, and I was thanking God profusely for taking care of all of us, I couldn't help but think about how glad I am that He never misplaces us. He doesn't forget us somewhere, though it does feel like it sometimes. Ask the Israelites, stuck in slavery in Egypt for 400 years. Ask the man who's lost his job, the childless wife, the couple that fights constantly, the parent of the wayward child, the elderly person in the nursing home who no one visits and they just want to go home to Jesus. Sometimes it does feel like God has forgotten where we are and what we are going through. But He hasn't. I won't give you some pat answer for why people suffer. That's too deep for this devotion, but I will tell you with all certainty that God has not forsaken you, forgotten you, or overlooked you. I may have misplaced my Ashley for a short time, but God has not left you.