Walking Along Unaware

Walking along the road, they are talking about all that has happened in the last few days.  Jesus catches up to them---but, they don't recognized Him.  They are unaware.  Pain of all sorts can do that---make us unaware.  Habits can do that---making us unaware.  Busyness, screens, agendas... all this and more can make us very unaware.  

He catches up to them and asks what they are talking about...  (Luke 24:13-35)

As you go about your day, walking along in life, ...chatting with your friends, your kids, your spouse.  As you think thoughts in your head---re-hearse conversations you have had or will have or will never have....  As you respond to or write posts on social media...    

I hear Him gently asking...  Stephanie, what are you discussing?  

Think about yourself and your conversations, your internal dialogues today and yesterday. 

 ~~~

Can you stop for a minute to hear Jesus asking you to tell Him what you are talking about, thinking about, interacting with?  What are you discussing?  What are you 'talking about'?

Stop for a minute and tell Him.  Explain to Him what you are discussing...  what has been happening... 

~~~ 

I can imagine these disciples are feeling so so many different things.  What might they have been feeling in that moment?  ...Anger, sadness, despair, confusion, fear, bewilderment, overwhelmed, traumatized, disappointment...

They tell Jesus that "we had hoped"... 

I read these words, and I am stopped in my tracks.  

Stephanie, what had (have) you hoped...?  What were you hoping for... or are you hoping for...?  

As I sat with this question, I could feel the disappointment, frustration, despair in my chest as I allowed myself to process my dashed hopes.   Old... and new.  Feelings are not for judging, they are just for feeling. Emotions are God -given data points that allow us to know ourselves and, if allowed, they are avenues to be closer to the Lord.  

~~~

Can you stop for a minute and figure out what you are feeling?  What have you been feeling today, yesterday, this week?  Have you hoped for something?  Are you feeling any frustration?  Confusion?  Sadness?

Stop and tell Jesus what you are feeling.  Is there something you had hoped?  Explain to Him your heart, your emotions, your pain.  

~~~

Jesus responds to their explanation of their thoughts and emotions with a correction and a call to think rightly.  Just to be clear, He doesn't leave them there.  He stays with them... and just gently calls them to account for their thoughts and their 'remembering'.  In fact, He calls them to remember.  He responds to them with Truth...   He reminds them of what He has told them before.  And, He reminds them of what has been True forever.  

~~~

Can you apologized to the Lord for any unbelief and foolishness in your heart or mind that might accompany or come alongside the emotions you feel?  Are there untrue things your are thinking and believing?  

Can you ask Jesus to speak His True Words over you... your thoughts, your feelings...  ?  

Sit for a few long moments and ask the Spirit to speak Words of Truth.  What would You say to me, Lord?  Speak, Lord, I am listening.  Give this time and quiet.  

~~~

After Jesus speaks Truth to them...  they want more.  They want more of Him.  More of His presence.  They are desperate for more of Jesus.  The disciples invite Him to come, be with them, stay with them, eat with them.  And, He says yes!

~~~

Can you ask Jesus to join you as you go about your day.  As you walk along the road today, as you sit, as you rise, as you eat, play, read, discuss...  can you ask Jesus to stay with you?  

Take a few moments and ask for more of Him.  Ask for more of His Spirit.  Ask Him to teach you to pray and to abide in His presence, His love, and His Word.

~~~

"Were not our hearts burning within us as he talked with us on the road...  It is true!  He has risen!"  (Luke 24: 32-34) 

As you go about your day, keep your heart aware of it's response to Him... Keep on the look out! 

He is alive and with you always!  

Hope Springs

Hope Springs 

I look outside and I wonder if I have lost them all

Vines, plants, bushes tended and laboured over with love, 

Life seems utterly sucked out of them. 

Wind battered, frost bit, brittle they look back at me with pale face. 

Look again, my child.  

I hear the Gardener's quiet whisper. 

Do you see the green?  

I lean close.  I search and look with my pale face and aging eyes. 

Just barely.   Ever so slight, I see the smallest green bud appearing.

Amidst the woody, lost-looking bits, I see life. 

Can these dry bones live?  He whispers

My heart yields, 'Only You know, Lord!?'  

Later, as if a reminder, the song wafts through my speakers.  

This soul-singer speaks of his furrowed, torn-open-heart. 

My heart nods an emphathic "yes" in recognition. 

I, too, feel a bit battered and worn.   

Ripped holes makes space for seed, he sings. 

Will what looks so-very-dead rise again?  

Do you see the green?  I hear the whisper, again. 

I look and see this smallest spark of life and I will hope.  

"Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone, 

but in every leaf in springtime"

~ Martin Luther

Andrew Peterson's The Sower's Song 

I Protest

I was listening to Sara Groves, "Why It Matters", this morning... 

And... I had an epiphany.  

Why it Matters

Funny word... epiphany.  Sounds so BIG or so WOW.  But, actually, it usually comes very quietly and very softly.  It's an awakening.  It's simple awareness.  While listening to this ode to creativity written by Sara Groves twenty years ago, I became keenly aware of why I blog, why I paint, ...maybe why I live my every single day.  I guess that is big-awareness!

I wrote Why I Blog in August, 2011...  ten years ago.  In that post, I explore my need and desire to connect and be known.  This was why I started blogging.  This need and hunger to be known is still in me, of course.  But, I am realising that through the years, my motivation and reason for blogging is different now.  Or, at least, 'added to'.  Yes, I want you to know me and I need a place to process what God is doing in my life.  But, NOW...  I find that my blog is a bit of a protest.  

Yep, a place of protest.  

In my small way, in this very small place...  I protest.   I protest the darkness and hopelessness that seems to invade our every day lives with songs and sounds of death, destruction, and theft.  I long to speak life, creation, and generosity.  

I protest the idea that Christians are stupid/silly, ignorant, bigoted, and hypocritical.  I long to speak of wisdom and truth.  I want to write about the true things that invade my life.  I long to speak of where I see the truest things--- beauty, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness and sacrificial love--- invading the world all around me.  I protest with my desire to be authentic and vulnerable here.  I want to share struggle and pain and triumph and ambiguity--- all of which are the reality of most of the Christians I know.   I don't have all the answers at all!  I have a journey to walk.  I protest with my offerings of my own journey into being loved and loving others with Christ's unfailing, unbounded love.  

Am I sometimes very stupid/silly?  Ignorant? Bigoted? and Hypocritical… yes, of course!  We all are.  You are, too.  But, you and I are SO SO much more than that.  And, certainly that is not even close to ALL that I am.   So, I protest to these labels over me and over the thousands of Christians world wide--- spread far across cultures, denominations, generations, and this beautiful globe.  

I protest.   

I protest the idea that music, art, and writing must always be perfect like a photo, or always moody and dark, or only ever filled with happiness.   I protest!  I want to write about the real things.  My blog is full of questions, wrestling, dark frustrations, light moments, and bold truths that I still struggle to fully live out.   Our lives, ...our real lives... are so multi coloured! 

I protest that small things don't matter.  I protest that only things that ----cost much, or are 'liked much', or are 'celebrated' or are held up and noted---  that only these things matter.  This small place.  This very small life.  My life.  And, yours... they matter.  

I believe it matters that when I smiled yesterday on my walk... making every effort to pass by each individual, look them in the eyes, and smile.  I believe that THAT matters.  It certainly mattered to me.  And, I believe that it matters to them.  Their small lives. 

Because, I know that each life is small.  ...even the celebrated ones.  But, each life, each and every single life matters!  I believe that each one of us was created on purpose inside our mother's womb.  You.  Me.  Every.  One.  

So, I protest here.  

Like Sara Groves sings--- thank you Sara for again singing my soul----  "tell me of the beauty of the beauty...  speak to me until I understand...  like a rampart for the soul... like a single cup of water...  why it matters!"  

I want to be known, yes. 

But, I also want to speak of the beauty of the beauty.  I want to offer you, my friends, my sister, my brother, ...and those I do not know that read here...  I offer you this single cup of water:  

God is so very, very good.  He is powerful and knows all.  God is faithful.  His love endures forever.  He is love.  He acts in love.  His very nature is love.  His justice is love.  His justice is right and righteous.  He is active and alive.  He offers peace.  He gives us all we need for joy.  He speaks and wants to speak to His people.  He is making and continues to make...   

May these words be a cup of water for your soul today. 

Let us, my friends... add to the beauty and offer a small cup of water to each other!!  

Go Looking For It!

I live in a country where it rains a lot.  I mean... it seriously rains...  a ...lot.    

An awful lot!

Growing up in California, where it is daily 75 degrees and sunny, this can still be hard for me from time to time.  

One thing I have learned in these 10+ years in this rainy land is---that with rain comes the opportunity for a rainbow!  One never knows when it will come...  but, with rain comes the hope.   Without rain, rainbows aren't even a possibility!  

I have a funny habit that has developed over the years.  When it starts to rain, I go looking for the rainbow.  Today, instinctively, when the downpour started, I ran to front window and then to the back window--- feeling like a child looking for Santa's sleigh in the sky.  

At the back window, I could feel my heart drop just a bit.  I was disappointed when no rainbow was found.  But, ...then I had this inclination...  this whisper in my heart...  Just wait a minute.  

So, I waited.  A minute...  such a short time.  But, it took effort.  Waiting is not easy for any of us.  

Then it appeared.

The waited for...  it appeared.  My rainbow.  It felt personal.  Such a beautiful result of rain.  

My rainbow!

This rainbow doesn't distract from the reality that with rain comes mud--- oh! so much yuck, muck and mud.  With rain comes mould, mildew, sickness, slippery walk ways and bone-chilling-cold--- oh! such deep cold.  The rainbow doesn't take away from the 'yuck' that comes with so much rain.  

The beauty found in any moment doesn't lessen the pain.  But it adds to...  It adds some joy to the equation.  The equation now includes breath-taking, moving, dramatic skies, sound of rushing and pelting water, and green fields that stay green all year round.   Reality is balanced by these moments of joy.  

One small moment.  

I could have missed it, if I hadn't gone looking for it.  

Looking.  And waiting.  I waited in hope.  

It's been a 'rainy' year--- this 2020, hasn't it?  And, 2021...  is deep in muck and mud.  Our nightly news is bone-chilling with no end in sight.  

Join me in looking for the shadows in the skies as an artist might look.  Look for the green fields of strength and endurance in each other.  Listen for the sounds of life amidst the pain.   They are there.  I promise.  

Promise.  

Let's look--- hope and wait for the rainbows.  We have no promise they will come today. But, we can always hunt for them.  Hunt and look with me, today, will you?  

------

Yep... I have written on this topic A LOT!  Here...  and here...   I guess it's still impacting me today.  Nothing new under the sun--- especially rainbows!

Sabbatical Reflections: Words on a Page #25 Unseen

 Unseen

Two people

inhabit the same space.

Disconnected.

Coordinates identical.

Yet so very distant.

Untouched.

How can you sit there?

Across a table.  

Arms length and acres apart. 

Am I an apparition?

Sitting here, facing you.

You look but do not see.

Even as my sound enters your ears.

Vocalization unheard.  Unnoted.

You hear but do not listen. 

Please just respond.  Please remark.

Please look at me.

See and try to understand.

Why won't you ask?

Where is your curiosity?

Will you refuse to know me?

If I am here, or not,

A cut-out.

Or, a picture would suffice.  

Written September 2020

Sabbatical Reflections: Words on a Page #9 How I See

 How I See

When did it begin?

This way of thinking

This way of seeing myself.

Like Lewis' green lady, I step

outside myself 

and I look. 

Rather than simple 'being', 

I become observer

I watch. I evaluate and I judge.

Unlike his lady, I don't like what I see

My gaze doesn't lift.

My mouth doesn't form in satisfaction.

Written June 2020

Sabbatical Reflections: Words on a Page #3 "Meaning...full or less"

 

Meaning...less or full

One, two, three, four... seven days.

The ebb and flow of the days as they merge together into a week, 

Each day unique, but intertwined and to be joined.

One, two, ...

One day full of light and life. 

Eyes see.  Ears hear.

Hearts awake and connected.

Laughter and dance trickle through.

Then a shift.  A flow.  

Dark rushes into the next...

Two, three, four...

Light seems hard to find.

Blind or blank stares.

Fingernails on a chalkboard.

Distance and frustration.

The walls feel close.  The air thin.  

The boundaries unstable. 

The ebb of light. 

The flow of darkness.

Three, four, five

One day full, the next empty. 

How have I been, you ask?  

Seven days...

Conflux of emotions make one week.  

Can happy and sad live in the same week?  The very same day?  

Solomon called each day "hevel"

A vapour.  A breath.  

There is a time for everything... 

Highs and lows.  

One week recedes and retreats.

Swirls and surges. 

Intertwined.  Merging together...

One, two, three, four...

Written May 2020

Sabbatical Reflections: Words on a Page #1 "To See and Hear"

 

To See and Hear

There are sounds and sights

I never did see.

Missed wisps, lost colour, 

All passed by with movement and noise.  

I paint these moments every day, He says. 

I ring these bells and sing this song each evening. 

So many. …no, most...

Most miss the wisps of colour, 

the sights and sounds of My love.  

May 2020

Stop the Madness

I can get pretty locked up in my head.  My thoughts can be so busy, random, critical, and full-on.  Through the years, I have become more and more aware of this buzzing reality that can be my brain...  awareness has been key to freedom from it, for sure.

But, even attentiveness and practicing God's Presence, doesn't always stop the madness.  I can go from peaceful knowledge of God's now Presence and, in the blink of an eye, I find myself lost again in the fast paced brain buzzing.  Before I know it, I am locked in a cycle of hurried thinking--- way too much thinking and very unproductively.

I find that there are different ways or kinds of thought.  This cycle of buzzing is not helpful, it is harmful thought.  These busy, burdened and even berating thoughts are unproductive thinking.  They feel more like chaos than order.  They are filled with lies and falsehood instead of truth.  And, often they cause anxiety, as opposed to peace.  The enemies of my soul play a huge part in this battle---  the adversary and my flesh--- fighting against the love, joy, peace and patience of the Spirit.

I found myself in this very cycle this week.  It doesn't really matter the topic or topics of thought--- it is just that my mind is bursting with unproductive and busy thoughts.  Like Martha of old, I am "worried about a great many things". 

Psalm 84 caught my attention on Wednesday...  the whole of the Psalm.  But, also one particular phrase jumped at me with clarity.  "whose hearts are set on a pilgrimage...they go from strength to strength" (Psalm 84:5-7).  The Psalmists are talking about the Presence of God.  They are rejoicing in their experience of dwelling with Him--- or in Him, His temple. 

In this Psalm, the Sons of Korah, are sharing about the blessedness ('esher'=happiness) that is with those who remain and abide in God.  We know that, as His people, we are now His temple.  He dwells within us through His Spirit!  We, then, have this happiness always available to us.  We can abide in His love.  Always!

With the phrase "whose heart is set on pilgrimage" the Lord seemed to be reminding me that the direction I was pointed was important.  A pilgrim is going somewhere.  She is pointed in a very clear direction, with purpose in their journey.  I could feel the gentle rebuke of God's heart...  Where or to Whom is your heart, your mind and your soul pointed, Stephanie?  Where is your mind headed?  

In most cases, when my mind is buzzing with unproductive and unhelpful thought, I am most definitely pointed inward.  I am looking at me...  either in the negative, the positive, or just the practical... my eyes are downward or inward.  If I am not inwardly focused, I am focused just on my immediate earthly reality:  the very same "many things" that Martha was buzzing about.  I am headed in a circular race to get the next thing done, to fix this or that, only to start over again to fix the next thing and do this or figure out that.  It is a rat race in my head.  My own personal torture device!

The old adage comes to mind:  "Worry is like a rocking chair.  You move but go nowhere."

It is good to look up and out.  It is very good to stop--- to Sabbath ("to cease")---and look at Him.   It is not only good, it is essential and life giving.  I must stop the madness.  Just cease.  Just cease, sit, and ask myself, prayerfully, "What do you actually think?! What is true?"  In response to this question, I wrote in my journal today: I think and know He is---  and then followed it with all that He is---all that is True about my amazing God and Savior.

He is righteous.  He is good.  He is loving.  He is faithful.  He is covenant and steadfast.  He is wise.  He is aware.  He sees.  He knows.  He loves.  He judges rightly.  ... the list went on and on.

When I get locked in the hurried and heavy thinking of my running mind, this productive truth-thinking stabilizes me.  His truth---who He is, and who I am because of Him--- is an anchor for my soul and most definitely for my mind.  I can feel the order and equilibrium immediately.  This is indeed my "one needful thing" (Luke 10:42).  Every day.  Every moment of every day.

"You will keep in perfect peace all whose thoughts are fixed on You!" (Isaiah 26:3)

Follow Me Into the Kitchen

These were my very thoughts today.  I offer this old post... re-posted...as a testimony of how we continue to learn the same things over and over again!  -----

I have had a particular image bouncing around in my head for a while now.   This picture came to my mind again today, as I was praying.  How do I describe what I see?

In my mind's eye I see Jesus walking into my kitchen and I am following Him.  I follow Him into the kitchen and watch Him pull up His long draping sleeve.  He dives His hands into my sink full of soapy water and dirty dishes. Dirty dishes.  Then, I follow Him.  I pull up my sleeves, dive my hands in and wash those dishes.   Together.  We finish the dishes and then He turns and walks into my hallway... headed for the closet---the vacuum cleaner.  I follow.  We vacuum.  Together.

Like two oxen plowing a field, we are yoked together.  Beautifully bound in unity, we work together as one. His strength making all compensation for my weaknesses.  His wisdom directing our work.   His Presence bringing Light and Joy and Peace.

Him and me.  Bound together because of His gift of grace and my choice to follow.

When Jesus physically walked the earth over 2000 years ago, He said, "Come and follow me".  And, they did.  James, John, Peter, and Thaddeus...  they followed Him.  They watched Him and did what He did, with Him.  They ate together and slept next to each other.  They walked and talked and did.  

Together.  Bound together because of His love and their desire to be with Him.

When Jesus physically left the earth, He reminded these friends--his followers--- that He would always be with them.  Always Present.  Always near.

Today, He reminds me.  Me, His friend, His follower... He reminds me that He is always with me.  He offers me Himself---His very Presence.

Come and follow me, Stephanie, He says to me today.

He invites you, too!  Follow Me into your kitchen, your schooling, your phone call and your errands.  I will be with you always! 

"As for me, the nearness of God is my good."  Psalm 73:28

-----

edited and re-posted from original post dated November 7, 2012

Sit With Me

Below I offer you an un-edited re-post of a blog I wrote August, 2016.

-------

Take a load off.  Sit for a while.  Rest... 

Sabbath is really, really important to God.  Plain and simple.  He makes no bones about it.  His commandment of Sabbath is uber-important.  Reading through the Old Testament, it would be hard to miss this clear theme.

I was struck again with this idea when reading in Numbers 15.  Throughout the Old Testament, God offers, over and over, a 'way out' or an avenue for forgiveness from sin.  In this chapter, He enunciates the pathway for recovery and forgiveness for unintentional sin.  And, then, BAM... right in the middle of the passage, we read about the "Sabbath-Breaker" who is to be put out of the camp and stoned to death.  No restitution is offered.  There was no-way back from THIS sin.  What, Lord!?  

Sabbath is clearly really, really important to God.  I wouldn't even attempt to count how often He reiterates this truth in the Old Testament; but, indeed, He does again, and again.  

In Numbers 15, we are given clarity as to why this Sabbath-breaker is punished.  His sin was deliberate, Scripture tells us.  Rebellious.  He had contempt for God's commands.  "He has despised the word of the Lord." (Numbers 15:31)

But what was he actually rebelling against?  What was He despising exactly?  What was offensive to him... this condemned man?  A day-off!?  For Sabbath is a day of rest.  No work.  A day for worship. Quiet.  Why in the world would he (or we) rebel against that?  

(Now, let me just pause here and make very clear that I believe, as a child of God and one covered by the blood of Jesus, I am no longer under the law.  I know and believe that Christ died for intentional and unintentional sin!  And His blood covers all rebellion, curses, iniquity, and transgressions... and every thing in between.  ...just in case you were worried.   But, that doesn't lessen the reality of God's heart and character being the same today, yesterday and tomorrow. So, I also believe, this conversation is immensely important.)

So, why in the world would this man rebel against rest, quiet and no work?  

Or, more poignantly, what do I resist or despise the gift of Sabbath?  

Ezekiel 20: 12 says, "I gave them (a gift!) my Sabbath as a sign between me and them that they might know I am the Lord (note the why behind the giving) who sanctifies them." 

In Mark 2:27 Jesus reiterates this theme that Sabbath is for men--- a gift.  Made and given for us... for our benefit.  Not a legal law to remain under, but instead a gift to receive.  Or not.  

When reading and sitting with this idea, I was struck by the end of the Ezekiel verse--- I am the Lord who sanctifies them. I looked up the word sanctify and found this definition:  "the state of proper functioning".  In the Webster definition it adds, for clarity sake, "a pen is sanctified when it is used to write"

I wrote down in my journal:  "pens are sanctified when writing.  People are sanctified when used for the purpose God intends---living according to His design. People are sanctified when living with God."  Sabbath is part of our proper functioning as human beings.  Part of our very purpose here on earth is to rest, worship, and enjoy God!  It is what we are made for.  

When I don't live in the rhythm of Sabbath rest, I am living in an unnatural way.  A rebellious way.  It is anti-human to work non-stop.  Sabbath is clearly very important gift from God to man.  

Do I despise it?  Fight it?  And, if so, why?  

Just sit for a while and enter His rest.

------
I re-post this as I pack up and head out for a 4 day silent, quiet retreat with God!!  ...I will sit and rest awhile, Lord.  I will receive Your gift to me!  

What is Your Kryptonite?

My kryptonite is "making mistakes" or "doing it wrong"*.

I know, to some personalities, this sounds absurd...  "We all make mistakes", you might say.  All the time everyone makes mistakes, right?  But, for me, even the smallest of mistakes can bring a shame storm of hurricane proportions which ravages my soul.

Other personalities have other kryptonite... for some its vulnerability or powerlessness.  For others, their weak spot is being misunderstood, or a broken relationship, or conflict.  My kryptonite is doing it wrong.

Like Superman, the moment I become aware of my misstep, my soul begins to writhe in pain and I struggle for strength or breath.   Like a green death rock, the mistake is chained around my neck and I can hardly think straight.  I know this sounds overly dramatic.  ...but, it really isn't.  Do you know that feeling of shame?  The hot pouring shame that makes you shake inside and out... call it embarrassment, call it guilt, call it anger (it looks so many shades of green).  Shame seems to take over, ransacking the limbic system of our brain and shutting down the prefrontal cortex that helps us to think rightly!

Whatever your kryptonite is... whatever triggers the shame for you, we all know that hot, breathless place where we either want to fight, freeze or fly away.  In the midst, you just want to disappear... "crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head... go to sleep and never wake up" (exactly how I used to describe it as a teenager).

Well, yes... I do make mistakes all the time... just like everyone else!  And recently, to add insult to injury, I have been making a lot of mistakes.  I mean, a lot.  From small, "nothing" mistakes... to pretty big, significant mistakes... I have been tripping over my own two feet for a few weeks now.

The last mistake was five keys off the right note--- singing in front of a group of people at our town's Open Mic night (another effort in my life to be brave and have fun).  We had planned the song in one key... but, printed the song sheets in a totally (5 key different!) key.  Hmmm...  Yeah, it didn't go so well, as you can imagine.

After sitting down, I could feel the hot shame-filled bucket pour over my head.  I began to shake.  Anger.  Tears welling.  I wanted to disappear... run away, hide under that table.  All I could think was "Never again!!"  Never. Never. Again.  I won't put myself in this position again.  THIS is what brave brings! Never!

The storm lasted in and out through the whole evening, following me into my restless sleeping.  Tossing in the night, I would awake and literally put my hands over my face--- hiding from whom exactly?!?  Myself.  God?    Tossing and turning, I would groan.

I do understand that for some of you reading this, you may think it a bit odd...  why would the wrong note sung in a song bring such pain?  But, weren't we all a bit confused and watched in disbelief when Lex Luthor would chain up Superman with a green rock!  What?  Come on, Superman, it's just a glowing green rock!

Remember, mistakes are my kryptonite.

In the midst of it all, and through the whole night, here and there I also became aware of a still, very small voice that whispered an invitation.  I remember barely hearing its faint words... and almost completely ignoring it... just as I sat down.  After the song finished and I sat---right as the bucket of shame splashed around me at the table when I sat down, I heard it.  It was so quiet.  Almost in the distance...

A still small whisper...  There is another way.  

Stephanie, there is another way.

As I have been prayerfully processing my weeks of wrongs and my discomfort, I have been asking Father about this other way.  Is it another way to sit in or feel shame?  Is it another way to respond entirely to mistakes or doing wrong?  What is the other way, Lord?  

I am certain the answer isn't that I won't have kryptonite----or any weakness.  (Although that would be fabulous!)  For, I know, in my weakness, He is strong!  So, nope... perfection isn't an option.  (Dang it!)

Now, I am asking God to continue to show me the other way of reacting or a new way of seeing Mr. Luthor... What is the other way, Lord, while the kryptonite is being chained around my neck? 

Just for fun... have a gander at the clip of old---bring back childhood memories:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OkSaAhbceBk



*For those who know the Enneagram tool, I am a One.  

Rugged, rough places in My Soul

I felt deep sadness.  I know his words were not meant to hurt.  He would never intentionally want to hurt me, I know this.  But, instantly, I could feel the pain welling.  The tears rose, slowly brimming at the edge---threatening to spill over.  Later, in the quietness and stillness of the morning hours, I could let them pour forth.  Sadness.  Just deep, profound sadness.  

Learning to stay curious about my emotions has been life changing.  I am so grateful for this gift.  

Why, Lord?  Not an intellectual question, as such... but, a soul question.  A question of wonder, awe, and simple curiosity.  I am asking God, the One who knows and sees all, to show me to me.  

Why, Lord?  Why did his words pain me so?  

It's old... deep, and old.  

Old, past wounds were surfacing with the simple scratch of his now words.  They touched something deep.  They touched a young me.  They hurt.  Not because he was hurting me.  They hurt because there was a painful spot, deep within, that was being poked.  Call it scars.  Call it a sore spot.  His words touched something before...  

But, we've looked at these many times, Lord.  

Yes, many, many times.  

So, why is this coming up again?  Why, Lord?  It feels so fresh.  Show me, Lord.  Show me, me.  

My life is dripping with abundance.  Truly.   So, why this sadness today?  It's not about today.

I asked and I sat.  I cried and I prayed.  I journaled.  I picked up the Scriptures and He opened my eyes, again, to His big, grand why-plan...  

In Isaiah 40, God speaks so tenderly to the heart of His people.  He tells them to be comforted. Comfort, comfort we hear Him say.  What comes in the next section surprised me and jumped off the page at me today...   They can be comforted because their sin is forgiven AND because..."Every valley shall be raised up.  Every mountain will be made low.  Every rugged and crooked place straight.  The rough places will be made a plain."(Isaiah 40:4)

This is WHY... this is the why-plan God is activating in my life as I stay curious about my painful, wounded past hurts.  

The truth is, in all of us---every. single. one.--- there are valley places, crooked places, and rough places in our souls.  He loving heart is to smooth us out.  He is clearing out the debris.  He is straightening out the wrong, bent parts of me.  Making me... inside me... a straight, plain place.  He is making me a green pasture.  

The words said to me this morning were not meant to hurt me, I know that.  They were innocent words that happened to fall upon a crooked place in me.  In the quiet and the stillness of moments with God, I can visit those crooked, bent places and have a look.  With Him, I can look intently at the pain.  I see the data point that is my strong, painful emotions.  I stay curious and ask the Spirit of the Lord, who knows all things, to show to me, myself.  And, I trust His work to raise up those valleys.  

Have Your good and loving way in me, Lord!  

Grab Your Hammer

The look on his face was priceless.  At 16 years old, my son is well accustomed to doing his own laundry. Yesterday, his dad, as an act of love and kindness folded his clean clothes. It was just a mundane moment of love... not difficult for Dad, right?  It took only minutes of his time.  But, to my son... it was a gift.

We heard the surprise and confusion in his voice, calling from upstairs, "Did you fold my laundry, Mom?"  Nope, I said.  It was Dad.

The look on his face, as he ran downstairs, was beautiful- such gratefulness.
One small act of love.  One small gift received.

My husband had told me that morning he had felt God's nudge to do it.  He quickly and quietly obeyed this prompting.  ...and reaped a tender moment with his boy.

The giving of love, the receiving of love.  Did that small act matter yesterday?  Did that count?

We tend to enumerate and count big things in our world, don't we?  There are certain 'big things' that we take note of and admire---changing the world kind of "big" things.  We count and keep track of the biggies.  Money, fame, admiration, beauty, service, and "likes" all are important if they are BIG.  Numbers.  Growing numbers.  If they can be counted or named.  Seen.

But, what if...

What if it really is just the small and mundane things that matter?

Are we all sold a bill of goods in the idea that we have to all do something "big" and significant?  How often have I heard a call to "change the world!" (the whole world, really!?) or, as a child, the mantra "you could even be President!"  Big things.  Presidential things.  Important things.

What if its just simply about the day-to-day, every day things of life... the cooking dinner, talking to a friend, driving to work, answering email,  'hello' to the shop attendant, praying, reading, exercising, cleaning the kitchen, sweeping a back porch...  these every day life realities--- what if they are truly the highest moments- ripe with the most significance?

I am reading a book right now that is stirring in me and prompting such profound discontent.  The book is titled and propagated as a book on contemplation, prayer, and journeying with God.  I read the author's continual reminders of all the 'big' things she has done and is doing because of, or alongside, her contemplation and prayer.  Almost as if prayer leads to doing great things.  Sprinkled and spread within the nooks and crannies of her writing are the assertion of work-with-impact in significant places.

What if prayer doesn't lead to great things... what if prayer is a great thing?

My small life, in a very small place,... my one-person-at-a-time, one moment-at-a-time life...  has been screaming at me as I read--- voices accusing me of laziness, not-enoughness, and nothingness.  Does it matter that I spent time in prayer today---praying for one small person in a small place?  Is that work of significance?  This critical voice tells me that my small life is less than.  What if that voice is lying to me?  What if...?

What if...

Twice this week I happened upon the story of Noah in Genesis.  At first glance, I felt the tug of this "huge" thing that Noah did.  Right?  It felt like an affirmation and nod to the accusations I have been feeling.  Noah had a huge impact!  He saved humanity from extinction, for goodness sake!  Or did he?

As I have been digging in and reading further, another thought has occurred to me---another Voice.

What did Noah actually do?  God saw the future.  God spoke.  God brought the animals.  God closed the door.  God brought the rain and sustained the little boat above the waves.  Really, when it comes down to it...Noah just built a boat.

He built a boat.

He picked up a hammer and some nails...  and made a really large boat.  That is actually what he did.

People build boats every day.  Right?  Johnny Cash wrote some songs and sung them.  Stephen King put some words on a screen.  And, Monet took some color and splashed it about---beautifully---on a canvas, or two.  But, actually, Cash, King, Monet and Noah really just lived their everyday life... eating, drinking, sleeping, cleaning, and living lives.  For better or worse, they danced their dance.  Just like you and me.

Color on a page.  Words on a screen.  Songs on an instrument.  A nail and a hammer.

With this thinking in mind, a new phrase sits with me now when I think about Noah's story. There is a profound and huge statement in Genesis 6:22... "Noah did precisely everything the Lord commanded him to do".

There it is!  That's it, right?!

My husband, yesterday, felt God's whisper to fold laundry...  and he obeyed.  If writing Scripture today, would God inspire the words, "And Dave did precisely everything the Lord commanded him to do."

Oh, how I long for this to be true of me!

The "whatever you do, whatever you eat or drink, do it all to the glory of God"(1 Corinthians 10:31) and "whatever you do, word or deed, do it all in the name of Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father" (Colossians 3:17)

What if I was like Noah... I go about my day, listening to God's command and doing "exactly what God commanded". What if I pick up my hammer and nails and build a boat?  What if my task today is to pray?  What if He nudges me to worship?  What if my folding laundry life is the big thing for today... the obedient, worshipful, honoring thing that God would have me do.

What is the look on God's face when we obey and actually do what He wants, I wonder?  I would guess its profoundly beautiful and priceless.

Time Travel

"You would think you'd get used to it...right?!" 

Yes, yes... one would think! 

It was a passing comment in response to my exclamation and exasperation about the time travel and jet lag that was plaguing me. 

I have been officially traveling, as a living, for nearly 25 years.  One might think I would get used to it.  But, I haven't. 

I have indeed become better acquainted with the challenges.  I have gotten much better at managing the sleepless nights, the hours on an airplane, and the dizzy feeling and nausea that I experience for days after arriving in a new time zone.  But, the truth is... I was not made to rush from one world to another.  It just feels unnatural. 

It feels jarring.  Jerking.  Shocking, in the least. 

Like Lucy stepping through C.S. Lewis' wardrobe, I feel the disruption intensely when I feel the new ground under my feet.  I get confused.  I get utterly confused--- in my soul--- as I step into the new world. 

I have felt confused for days now   Out of step.  Out of whack.  Where am I?  Was I actually in Asia, just three days ago? 

Age old struggles rear their ugly head and I feel like I don't quite know how to act, to think, or sometimes even... to pray. 

I told someone yesterday that "my soul has yet to catch up with my body".  (I stole that phrase ages ago from a preacher who travels!)  My body is here.  My physical actions are well rehearsed and accurate.  But, I just don't 'feel' here.  It's like Stephanie hasn't quite arrived in this new land. 

And, I feel this most every time I travel. 

No, I am not used to it.

Driving in the car yesterday, I was listening to a favorite song.  As the words washed over me and my mouth moved with the lyrics... there was a single moment in time where I started to "feel" the words of the song.  Tears welled on the edge of my heart and my eyes.  Almost like my 'self' started to finally engage.  In that moment, I had the funny, passing thought... 

"Oh!  There you are!"  

Defrosting.  Awakening.  Catching up...

I think today I finally feel a bit more here.  Able to know again how to act, to think... and, this morning, knowing again how to pray. 

I don't think we are made to time travel.  The stretching of myself between lands, peoples, cultures, time zones, and such distance feels unnatural.  ...almost like I was created for one garden.  One beautiful garden.

You will commonly hear me say to my daughter... who lives 5,332 miles away from me (not that I've counted...ha!)  "We were supposed to live in tents next door to each other...  always". 

I don't know. 

But, I do know that I am certainly not used to it...  I also know that, in time, my soul will catch up with my body.

My Advent

There are days when it all feels very heavy and dark.  The world.  The news.  The sadness.

But, today, I awoke with a sadness that was almost oppressive.  Sadness seemed to hang around my neck as I rose from bed.  It pulled me down and filled my chest as I sipped my coffee.  Grief sat in my throat as I ate and weighed heavy as I walked to church.  As worship began, the tears hung heavy in my eyes...  slow, big, fat, hot tears.

Heavy, dark sadness.

I was sad... deeply saddened by the state of my heart.

Simply put, in my life, there is a certain way of thinking and seeing that is just wrong.  Profoundly wrong.  I know it is wrong; and yet, I still think the crooked thoughts and see with these darkened eyes.  There seems to be nothing I can do to change it.   Years, my heart cries.  Years and years I have seen this way and battled against it.   Years, Lord!  I cry out...longing for this to be changed.

I even know why I might naturally think this way...   I am aware.  I know the history--- I understand the where it came from.  God has shown me.   And, that has helped.   Awareness is definitely good.

But, still.  Still, I can't shift it.  I can't seem to change or fix the pattern.  My friend refers to these places as tectonic plates in our souls.  I seriously need an big 'ol 8.0 to shake these set ways of seeing.  Where can I go and what can I do?

It was one moment in time...

One swift moment.  This morning, in the midst of this heavy grief over my sin...

One young man reading one well-known passage in Scripture. 

A phrase.  A line from the text.  The Word jumped out of his teenage mouth into my dark heart and there was instantaneous light.  I felt it.  One beautiful moment...   Truth and light.

I quickly found the passage to read it again.  I couldn't take my eyes off it!  I read and read.  As I read the Word, I could literally feel the surge of hope.  I could feel the light swelling and pushing out the sadness.

"Every valley shall be raised up.  Every hill made low.  The rough ground shall become level and the rugged places a plain." (Isaiah 40:4)

Rugged and rough places.  Dark valleys...

In my minds eye I could see the rough and rugged reality of my soul--- these wrong ways of thinking and the dark valleys where my eyes could not see rightly.

My soul.  Rough.  Rugged.  Thorny and full of stones.

As if I could hear the Spirit of the Lord this morning saying over me, "Make a straight path for our God!" (Isaiah 40:3)  He commands it.  The Lord wills it.  Over me, He speaks...  I will make it level!  

In me.  In and over these rough places.  In me... a straight path.  Level ground.  A green plain.  A straight pathway for the glory of the Lord.

This is the gospel.  This is what Jesus has done for me.  This is what Jesus is doing in me...   The now and the 'not yet'.  He has shifted.  He will shift.  And, He continues to shift the rocks and make way for His way in and through me.  I have seen it.  I will continue to see it.

Light shone into my darkness this morning.  This morning, I, once again, saw a great light.  The darkness will not overcome it.  He is making all things new.  This will shift.  This will change.

There are days when it all feels very heavy.  Yes.

Today, I will wait.  I will hope and I will watch for the Lord.  With joy, now, hovering over my head and light filling out the spaces of my heart---I wait.

My advent. 

"And then, imperceptibly, it was death and winter that yielded, and life and spring stood at the door and beckoned." ~ Elizabeth Goudge, Towers in the Midst

A Lil' Sentence Does a Whole Lot of Good

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It didn't feel inappropriate or untoward.

It did surprise me, though.  It caught me off guard.

An older man, slightly humped and bald with wisps of grey hair around his ears walked passed me... maybe we was nearing 80 years old?

When we passed on the sidewalk, I smiled at him.  His face immediately lit up---bright and beautiful--- he seemed to grow younger by 20 years.  As he looked up he immediately said, "Well, you are the prettiest thing I have seen today!"

I literally felt the shock of his words and quickly replied, "Thank you, you are very sweet!"  Then we went about our day...  Me moving forward, the gentleman walking the other way.

Our paths crossed for only a moment.

In the first moments after we passed I prayerfully wondered if his comment was inappropriate.  In our current world---which is over-sensual and over-sexualized; with such an emphasis placed on outward appearance---was this wrong for him to say such a thing to a stranger?   I wasn't sure.

But, a few steps further down the road and I could literally feel myself walking taller and with more confidence.  I felt younger, too.  A bit of the child in me seemed touched and maybe even dancing.  The strength and energy in my stride caught my attention.  How had one little sentence brought such a significant subconscious response from my heart, my body... my very being?

It is hard to estimate and count what this little, kind compliment did for my soul.

I kept prayerfully wondering... watching my thoughts with curiosity...  A few steps further down my path, I pondered if this was my ugly-sided vanity rearing it's head.   Could be.  But, this felt different.  This felt purer.  This felt sweet.  Who can know their own heart, truly?  (Jeremiah 17:9)  Only God knows.

As I prayed, though, and walked a few steps further... I had a simple thought:  Words are powerful.

This man crossed my path for one very short moment.  And, his words had power.  They impacted me before I could 'think'.  His words had taken affect before my conscious mind was even aware.  My response to his sentence was something to 'look back on' and wonder about.  His words had a distinctly positive and uplifting impact.   At least, it felt positive.

What might my words do today?  What might I say to my husband, my son or my daughter?  What might I say to my neighbor or the stranger at the store?  Can I use my mouth to bring about blessing!?  Can I lift someone's head and help them to walk just a little bit taller?

It didn't cost that man anything to compliment me.  In fact, I would venture, from the look on his face, that it befitted his soul to offer me that rose.  He moved onward a bit taller, too. 

Lord, use me to bolster and to bless!  Father, help my mouth... all I say...to be used to raise up and to lift.  Fill me with Your Spirit, Your love and Your thoughts about this beautiful world and the beauty that fills each face.  "For out of the same mouths come blessing and cursing, brothers... it should not be!" (James 3:10)

Rehearse the Truth

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Be careful not to forget, God says.

Do not forget... you are free.  I brought you out of slavery.  You are free!!  (Deuteronomy 6:12)

He tells His kids that He will give them comfy, warm houses with full cupboards.  He knows they will sit in quiet, green pastures. Good food.  Good drink.  Full bellies.  God gives and God also knows.

In that place... in a place of abundance... we must be super careful!  (Deuteronomy 6:10-12)

Be careful not to forget Me. 

How easily I forget.  He knows this of me.  In my comfy home, with my full belly... I can forget. How compassionate and full-knowing He is! He not only knows my forgetful heart; but, He offers a way to remedy the problem. He tells me how not to forget...

He helps our feeble, amnesia-prone hearts.  

Remember, He says.  

Recount.  Rehearse.  Remind.  

And He gives us lovely, practical suggestions as to how to remember!  Love me, He says and talk about Me all the time.  Know my Word and tell others all day, every day, about it. Write it down. Paste it on your walls.  Put it right there in front of your face.  (Deuteronomy 6:4-9)  Talk about it when you get up.  Talk about it when you sit down.  When you walk out and about, talk about Me. (Deuteronomy 11: 18-20)

He understands that we forget.  So...He says, as you go about your day--- your mundane, every day tasks like walking, sitting, eating--- while you go, talk about Me.  Speak the truth.  Tell yourself the truth. Tell yourself and tell others the love-filled, hope-arousing, peace-giving Truth!  

Today, I remember.  I remember what God has done in 2016.  I recount, with my family, what He has done in years past.   I remember His goodness, His salvation, His grace, His gifts of love and sacrifice.

I remember my freedom.  

We will recount.  We will rehearse and remind each other.  

Lord, I will be careful to not forget You!  My faithful, loving, kind Father... today, I remember!  

Missin' the Miraclulous

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At least three times a day I might just miss a miracle.

From fork to mouth, often without really thinking deeply about the realities of provision, I eat.  I know (somewhere solid and certain), in my head, that God has provided this food for me.  His provision is a gift.  But, how often is that provision a miracle?  How often do I miss the miracle of His gifts?

Reading together as a church Sunday morning in Mark 6:30-44, we were reminded of this truth of miraculous every-day-provision.  Jesus sees a hungry crowd and His very hungry disciples.  He knows they are in need.  Jesus sees this, not with disdain or as a bother, but with compassion.  He gets it.  He gets it and then He does something about it.

"He knows you need these things!"  (Luke 12:22-34)

Jesus takes a few loaves and some fish and feeds at least 5,000 mouths.  All the while, the crowd is told to sit down and eat.  Eat and enjoy!  Be satisfied.  So, they do.  They sit and have a nice little picnic, food slowly-but-surely distributed among them. In reality, they don't have a clue what is going on behind the scenes.  We get no indication that they are told that Jesus just miraculously expanded a few loaves of bread by, at least, 1,000 times.  They just miss it.  Hand to mouth provision and they don't see a thing.  They just eat.

Sitting comfortably, eating until they are satisfied... they simply enjoy a meal.  They enjoy a miracle and haven't any notion that heaven just moved and laws of nature shifted to provide the food that warms their stomachs.   They miss the miraculous.

How often are the heavens shifting for my belly, I wonder?  ...for my hunger and my thirst?

I don't want to miss it.  Open my eyes, Lord.  I want to see more!  Help me to see Your miracles every day.  Help me to walk aware and in awe of your daily provision of bread.  You are my good, good Shepherd.  

"Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who brings forth bread from the earth."  ~Jewish Prayer

Hangover Headache and Heartache

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I have a hangover today.  

In this case it wasn't from a blog post, it was a *good* conversation that sent me internally puking.  I am reeling from a very real conversation and a "revealing" of some of my darkest yuck.  I shared my true self and now I feel the regret.  It still happens... regularly, these hang-overs---as I push into vulnerability and explore gut-honesty with myself and others.  

I chose it---and by God's grace, I will continue to choose it.  But, now I am feeling the consequences.  So, I re-post this blog entry from November, 2012, because I could easily have written it today.  

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"A vulnerability hangover" is what author and researcher, Brene' Brown calls it...

I have never been drunk.  So, I have never actually had a proper hangover; therefore, I can't say I know what one feels like.  But, I am guessing it isn't very comfortable!  I have heard a few stories and seen my share of instances.  So, I gather from the puking, purging and pounding-head that a hangover is never a positive things.

A vulnerability hangover isn't fun either.

Too much vulnerability... and you are destined for a sickening hangover!

Let's just say that each time I write a particularly vulnerable blog post---write something deep, hard, or ugly--- I experience the incredible urge to purge!

Within 2 hours of writing and "publishing" my post, I have this desire to go online and delete the post immediately.  Thoughts like:  "Too much", "too raw", "too weak"... pour over my mind.  If I resist the urge to "purge" the post, I then want to "purge" the blog...  "I just need to stop blogging".  "This is stupid".  "People don't want to read and hear this..."

And, if I resist the urge to delete my blog; then, the final 'hangover' symptom is to write a "nice" post.

There are nicer posts, right?  Posts that are true and right and encouraging.  I like those posts, too.  There are blog posts---still honest and real posts---about God's blessings, His gifts, His peace and His Word.  But, after I share one of my "I cried" or "I am in pain" posts--- I desperately want to get on quickly and write a "nice" post.  This last vulnerability-hangover-urge is an attempt to let you all know, "I am okay."  With a "nice" post, I assure you (and me) that "I am not in pain all the time".

I have resisted urge #1, and #2.  So, I am officially saying it now---without writing a "nice" post...

Readers, I am okay!

Did I need to say that?  I don't know.  But, the gut-wrenching urge within me was to communicate to you, my friends and readers, that I am not "the sick person", "the weak person", or "the messy person".  When the fact of the matter is... I am.

Why do I feel the deepest urge to write "I am okay... don't worry about me"?  Or, elsewhere--- other times in my life---why do I need to back away and tell you, "Please don't be bothered about me!"?

I am pretty sure it is because at some point in my life (probably more than one point!), I believed the lie that I am supposed to be perfect.  I am supposed to be "okay".  Not weak.  Not in-process.  Not a bother.  And, certainly, not messy.

Well, the truth is... I really am okay.  I am well.  And, happy.  And, at peace today.

But, it is also truth that I am a bit messy, too!!  Both.  And.

But, none-the-less, vulnerability and weakness are hard for me.   I talked to the Lord about this today--- can I just delete that post or this blog, Lord?  ... I felt prompted to keep on sharing, keep on posting, and keep on getting drunk on vulnerability.  Courage to share weakness is one cure to perfectionism!

And, so I "drink" the healthy carrot-orange-alka selzer juice concoction of this blog post to bring a little healing to my hangover!

That said, right about now I am feeling a bit over-vulnerable---tipsy, you might say----so give me about 4 hours and I will be sick with my vulnerability hangover from this post...

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Maybe I will write soon about the blessings, growth and strength that have come with deep honesty and, the pushing into, vulnerability.   The benefits are innumerable and priceless, to be sure.  Maybe I will share...  but, today, I am just reeling a bit.