1. Post rules on your blog.
2. Answer the six “4″ items.
3. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving them a comment.
4 Things I Did Yesterday: Went to work, packed up part of the kitchen, had dinner with Jeff & Amy +3, spent first night back in my house
4 Things I Look Forward to: Ladies Bible Class, the Open, unconsciousness, heaven
4 Things On My Wish List: Books, ipod dock, unconsciousness, personal vegetable cutter
4 Restaurants I like: Carino's, Glazed Honey Ham, Taco Bell (YES, I like Taco Bell!!!), The Burger House
4 Favorite TV Shows: Scrubs, 24, Arrested Development, The Secret Life of the American Teenager
4 People I Tag (You’re it): Susan, Tim, um . . . . ????
Friday, December 19, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Grace Sufficient & New Resolve
(This is post is quite long. Consider yourself warned.)
I have been contemplating the apostle Paul a lot lately. This contemplation was prompted by some frustrations about things I’m experiencing in my life right now and an ongoing discussion with a friend whose wisdom is greater than my own. I have a thorn in my flesh, a plague on my spirit, so who better could understand such things than Paul? My thorn is clinical depression. It is something I have struggled with for most of my life. I don’t know that this is the place to elaborate on how much I wrestle with it, but I will say that it is a hard road to walk as it affects mood, physical well-being, perception, and relationships.
At the beginning of 2008, some very special friends and I decided to ask God for one thing that we wanted for ourselves, one thing that He would do in our lives this year. My request was to be completely healed of this wretched affliction. I was tired. Tired of what it does to me, tired of it affecting all aspects of my life. If anyone can make me well, it is the One who made me. So I began to pray every single day that God remove this thorn from me. For a while there in early Spring, I thought that He was granting my request. I was feeling so good and not having bad nights anymore . . . it was wonderful while it lasted and now we are at the final few weeks of 2008. I’ve felt pretty low and have had a lot more bad nights since the Spring, the most recent being two nights ago.
What is God doing with me? I wondered. Why am I not healed? Am I not praying right? How could He possibly want me to live this way? Couldn’t I do more for Him, be more for Him if I were healthy in spirit? These and thoughts in this vein have been tormenting me for weeks now. I realize that the year is not over yet and that God could do something really amazing in the days that are left. It was these thoughts that prompted the dialogue with my much wiser friend in Christ, who reminded me of Paul’s struggle in 2 Corinthians 12:7-10. Paul says his thorn was a “messenger of Satan”—reminiscent of Job, perhaps?—that kept him from becoming arrogant. “Concerning this I entreated the Lord three times that it might depart from me. And He has said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you . . .’” 2 Cor. 12:8 & 9 (NAS) Did this comfort Paul or make it easier to deal with his affliction? Or was it just truth that Paul had to hold onto when he wanted to give up or give in? These were questions that my friend put to me as he tried to help me make sense of my own struggle. 2 Corinthians 12:7-10 seems to indicate it made it easier for Paul, but we only really know what the Word tells us. Personally, I think he must have clung to those words at times when there was nothing else to be done.
What I envy in Paul’s situation, is that God spoke to him directly . . . ”My grace is sufficient . . .” Except for the notion of actually being spoken to by God likely scaring me to literal death, I feel I could endure anything if He’d just say to me, ”My daughter, this is the way it has to be.” God said it. That settles it, right? As it is, I have found that I have an easier time of it if I just live as though He’s said so.
I had an epiphany in Bible class today. We were studying Luke 9:51-62 and how Jesus “resolutely set His face to go to Jerusalem” knowing full well what awaited Him there: betrayal, torture, a trial, and death. He was going to do what He was sent by the Father to do. Not only that, He was resolved to do it. “Unwavering adherence to one’s purpose” was one definition I found for resolve. It fit nicely with the lesson today because Jesus didn’t let anything deter this final journey to Jerusalem. Not the unwelcoming Samaritans, not the fact that He had no place to lay His head, not His family, not His simpler past before He began His ministry, and not the horrors He knew He would face at the end of the road. His purpose was to put an end to the enslaving power of sin once and for all, to die for His creation—you and me. The point? That if He could do all of that for us, should there be any concerns about what it will cost us to follow Him?
That’s when all these thoughts muddling around in my head went “click” into place. I was able to see, really see, how God’s grace has been sufficient for me, how it would always be. My friend had suggested that I adjust my prayers for healing to say, “God, take this cup from me, but if You choose not to, use it to Your glory.” I know that He has used it because of Barb, a Canadian woman I met through an online support group, who put on Christ this past summer. I never would have met Barb if not for this thorn. There are a lot of things in my life that would be completely different were it not for my struggle with depression. I would perhaps have had a lot less heartache, but I finally realize that I would be missing so much more. I don’t know that I would have ever come to the Open. I don’t know that I would have taken the road that led me to be a school teacher. I don’t know that my relationship with God would be what it is today. I don’t know that I would be so utterly certain of my own salvation, if not for this thorn. What I do know is that I can't imagine my life without these things and I would not trade them.
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (NIV) I found my healing today. Not in actual terms, rather in my understanding. And I have found a new resolve: If Jesus can go through what He went through for my sake on the cross, I can live with depression for His sake and follow Him. My prayer is that He will in every circumstance be glorified through it. I will not be deterred by what others—family & friends—say or do. I will not waver because of inconvenience, discomfort, fear, or pain. I will not look back. I am resolved.
I have been contemplating the apostle Paul a lot lately. This contemplation was prompted by some frustrations about things I’m experiencing in my life right now and an ongoing discussion with a friend whose wisdom is greater than my own. I have a thorn in my flesh, a plague on my spirit, so who better could understand such things than Paul? My thorn is clinical depression. It is something I have struggled with for most of my life. I don’t know that this is the place to elaborate on how much I wrestle with it, but I will say that it is a hard road to walk as it affects mood, physical well-being, perception, and relationships.
At the beginning of 2008, some very special friends and I decided to ask God for one thing that we wanted for ourselves, one thing that He would do in our lives this year. My request was to be completely healed of this wretched affliction. I was tired. Tired of what it does to me, tired of it affecting all aspects of my life. If anyone can make me well, it is the One who made me. So I began to pray every single day that God remove this thorn from me. For a while there in early Spring, I thought that He was granting my request. I was feeling so good and not having bad nights anymore . . . it was wonderful while it lasted and now we are at the final few weeks of 2008. I’ve felt pretty low and have had a lot more bad nights since the Spring, the most recent being two nights ago.
What is God doing with me? I wondered. Why am I not healed? Am I not praying right? How could He possibly want me to live this way? Couldn’t I do more for Him, be more for Him if I were healthy in spirit? These and thoughts in this vein have been tormenting me for weeks now. I realize that the year is not over yet and that God could do something really amazing in the days that are left. It was these thoughts that prompted the dialogue with my much wiser friend in Christ, who reminded me of Paul’s struggle in 2 Corinthians 12:7-10. Paul says his thorn was a “messenger of Satan”—reminiscent of Job, perhaps?—that kept him from becoming arrogant. “Concerning this I entreated the Lord three times that it might depart from me. And He has said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you . . .’” 2 Cor. 12:8 & 9 (NAS) Did this comfort Paul or make it easier to deal with his affliction? Or was it just truth that Paul had to hold onto when he wanted to give up or give in? These were questions that my friend put to me as he tried to help me make sense of my own struggle. 2 Corinthians 12:7-10 seems to indicate it made it easier for Paul, but we only really know what the Word tells us. Personally, I think he must have clung to those words at times when there was nothing else to be done.
What I envy in Paul’s situation, is that God spoke to him directly . . . ”My grace is sufficient . . .” Except for the notion of actually being spoken to by God likely scaring me to literal death, I feel I could endure anything if He’d just say to me, ”My daughter, this is the way it has to be.” God said it. That settles it, right? As it is, I have found that I have an easier time of it if I just live as though He’s said so.
I had an epiphany in Bible class today. We were studying Luke 9:51-62 and how Jesus “resolutely set His face to go to Jerusalem” knowing full well what awaited Him there: betrayal, torture, a trial, and death. He was going to do what He was sent by the Father to do. Not only that, He was resolved to do it. “Unwavering adherence to one’s purpose” was one definition I found for resolve. It fit nicely with the lesson today because Jesus didn’t let anything deter this final journey to Jerusalem. Not the unwelcoming Samaritans, not the fact that He had no place to lay His head, not His family, not His simpler past before He began His ministry, and not the horrors He knew He would face at the end of the road. His purpose was to put an end to the enslaving power of sin once and for all, to die for His creation—you and me. The point? That if He could do all of that for us, should there be any concerns about what it will cost us to follow Him?
That’s when all these thoughts muddling around in my head went “click” into place. I was able to see, really see, how God’s grace has been sufficient for me, how it would always be. My friend had suggested that I adjust my prayers for healing to say, “God, take this cup from me, but if You choose not to, use it to Your glory.” I know that He has used it because of Barb, a Canadian woman I met through an online support group, who put on Christ this past summer. I never would have met Barb if not for this thorn. There are a lot of things in my life that would be completely different were it not for my struggle with depression. I would perhaps have had a lot less heartache, but I finally realize that I would be missing so much more. I don’t know that I would have ever come to the Open. I don’t know that I would have taken the road that led me to be a school teacher. I don’t know that my relationship with God would be what it is today. I don’t know that I would be so utterly certain of my own salvation, if not for this thorn. What I do know is that I can't imagine my life without these things and I would not trade them.
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (NIV) I found my healing today. Not in actual terms, rather in my understanding. And I have found a new resolve: If Jesus can go through what He went through for my sake on the cross, I can live with depression for His sake and follow Him. My prayer is that He will in every circumstance be glorified through it. I will not be deterred by what others—family & friends—say or do. I will not waver because of inconvenience, discomfort, fear, or pain. I will not look back. I am resolved.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Why I Hate the Mall
I hate the mall because it is the road to hell . . . hell being financial ruin in this scenario. What I really hate are the kiosks that run down the middle of each concourse of the mall. I had a plan tonight, a single-minded plan to go in, get what I needed--some Love Shack body spray from the GAP and dinner at Chick-Fil-A--and get out. As a general practice for many years now, I don't make a lot of eye-contact with people. Why? I don't know, don't want to appear that I'm staring, don't want to see gorgeous men react to me staring, don't want to encourage scary men to approach me, don't want anyone to steal my soul . . . ? I've realized however that I could miss a lot of things if I don't look people in the eye: eye color, facial features, hair color, approximate height/weight of potential criminals. I would be useless as a witness to a crime because I don't look people in the face. So I've begun to make a point of looking people in the eye more here lately.
When in comes to being in the mall, this application flies out the window, especially where those people manning the kiosks are concerned. Let me be specific here, I'm talking about the foreigners. My fellow, native-born American citizens just sit and and wait for you to approach them. My fellow American immigrants view eye-contact as and invitation that they must RSVP at all costs. I walked out of GAP and she was standing at her kiosk, lotion locked, loaded, and ready to fire. Our eyes met and I was cornered. I let her lotion my hands, I let her buff my nail and soften a cuticle, and then firmly told her I wasn't interested. So she turned it up a notch, she let me smell all the fabulous scents the fabulous lotion came in. Then she whipped out the entire kit in the scent I liked best. I remained firm--I'm not spending $70 bucks on a mani/pedicure kit! She came down to $40, "just for you" and I told her she was Satan, but that I'd do it so she'd let me go. I gave her my credit card and before she ran it she looked at my face thoughtfully. Before I know it she has a q-tip and is dabbing this cold, cream-like gel under my left eye. She tells me about the eye gel, that it is made from natural ingredients, which she lists, but I can't really understand each one because of her accent. Then she shows me a magnified mirror and says, "Tell me if you notice difference." I look carefully and . . . are my? . . . holy moly! My laugh lines are smoother and less noticeable on my left eye than my right!!!
Now, I'm just completely undone. Totally sucker-punched and unable to walk away without that gel . . . HOW much? $120?!?!?!?? I said, "No way! There is just no way I can conscience spending that kind of money on eye gel!" I'm but a poor, country school teacher! She comes down $20 and offers to throw in the mani/pedi-kit "as gift for you." Yeah, still can't do that. She asked me which I wanted more, the eye gel or the kit. The eye gel, of course! She comes down to $75 for the gel & the kit is "my gift to you." I said, "You ARE the devil!" She plays mock shock really well, "I'm an angel!" She rings it all up and puts in a bag for me. I find out she's Israeli, not Russian as I had first guessed. She acts insulted, but seriously, in this town? You don't run into Israelis everyday. "Can I go now?" I ask, I really am defeated. "Yes," she says, "hug?" I hug her and get back on my path to Chick-Fil-A. As I am walking past the kiosk with the fabulous hair straighteners, the young foreign chap working that gig catches my eye . . . DANG IT!!! Stop looking people in the eye! "Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asks charmingly. I smile and tell him that I really have to keep going. He must be invisibly leashed to that booth because he only chased me so far down the concourse, gave me a disdainful glare for refusing him, and returned to his post to make eye contact with some other unwitting soul.
As I walk out with my dinner, intended and unintended purchases, I heave a great sigh. I sigh because I hate the mall and the fact that I didn't have the strength or enough appreciation for my laugh lines to say no. I also shake my head because it just underscores the fact that in some places, eye-contact is completely overrated.
When in comes to being in the mall, this application flies out the window, especially where those people manning the kiosks are concerned. Let me be specific here, I'm talking about the foreigners. My fellow, native-born American citizens just sit and and wait for you to approach them. My fellow American immigrants view eye-contact as and invitation that they must RSVP at all costs. I walked out of GAP and she was standing at her kiosk, lotion locked, loaded, and ready to fire. Our eyes met and I was cornered. I let her lotion my hands, I let her buff my nail and soften a cuticle, and then firmly told her I wasn't interested. So she turned it up a notch, she let me smell all the fabulous scents the fabulous lotion came in. Then she whipped out the entire kit in the scent I liked best. I remained firm--I'm not spending $70 bucks on a mani/pedicure kit! She came down to $40, "just for you" and I told her she was Satan, but that I'd do it so she'd let me go. I gave her my credit card and before she ran it she looked at my face thoughtfully. Before I know it she has a q-tip and is dabbing this cold, cream-like gel under my left eye. She tells me about the eye gel, that it is made from natural ingredients, which she lists, but I can't really understand each one because of her accent. Then she shows me a magnified mirror and says, "Tell me if you notice difference." I look carefully and . . . are my? . . . holy moly! My laugh lines are smoother and less noticeable on my left eye than my right!!!
Now, I'm just completely undone. Totally sucker-punched and unable to walk away without that gel . . . HOW much? $120?!?!?!?? I said, "No way! There is just no way I can conscience spending that kind of money on eye gel!" I'm but a poor, country school teacher! She comes down $20 and offers to throw in the mani/pedi-kit "as gift for you." Yeah, still can't do that. She asked me which I wanted more, the eye gel or the kit. The eye gel, of course! She comes down to $75 for the gel & the kit is "my gift to you." I said, "You ARE the devil!" She plays mock shock really well, "I'm an angel!" She rings it all up and puts in a bag for me. I find out she's Israeli, not Russian as I had first guessed. She acts insulted, but seriously, in this town? You don't run into Israelis everyday. "Can I go now?" I ask, I really am defeated. "Yes," she says, "hug?" I hug her and get back on my path to Chick-Fil-A. As I am walking past the kiosk with the fabulous hair straighteners, the young foreign chap working that gig catches my eye . . . DANG IT!!! Stop looking people in the eye! "Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asks charmingly. I smile and tell him that I really have to keep going. He must be invisibly leashed to that booth because he only chased me so far down the concourse, gave me a disdainful glare for refusing him, and returned to his post to make eye contact with some other unwitting soul.
As I walk out with my dinner, intended and unintended purchases, I heave a great sigh. I sigh because I hate the mall and the fact that I didn't have the strength or enough appreciation for my laugh lines to say no. I also shake my head because it just underscores the fact that in some places, eye-contact is completely overrated.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Brave in the Attempt
A few years ago before I became a Life Skills teacher, I went with the high school Life Skills class as a sponsor for the Special Olympics Summer Games. My friend Bonnie was the head coach and needed some extra help. If you've never attended a Special Olympics event, I highly recommend it. There is nothing like it. A couple of weeks ago, at Bonnie's behest, I volunteered to work part of the Special Olympics Bowling competition. I was feeling pretty low that day and had considered backing out, but I followed through and was so glad I did. It really lifted my spirits.
One of the things I love most about Special Olympics is the Athlete Oath: "Let me win. But if I cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt." One of the guys in the group I was overseeing had "Being brave in the attempt" on the back of his t-shirt. It is an amazing experience to watch people with disabilities give their all in athletic endeavors. They are so focused and determined and the joy on their faces when they achieve their goal . . . I find myself envying them. I see how much the athletes struggle just to roll a bowling ball. They don't care about what they look like, they just want to make the strike.
It humbles me.
I'm struggling with some things at the moment, primarily depression and sleep issues. Those things affect how I perceive my world, my life. I am frustrated over the things I've always longed for and don't have. I'm wrestling with my weight because the doctor told me I need to lose quite a bit by May. I'm weary of the thoughts in my head that keep assaulting what I know is the truth. I'm tired of being afraid and everything seeming so hard . . . and then I spend time with Special Olympic athletes.
No matter how hard I may have to fight in my own life, I will never have to fight as hard as they. Do they want to win every game they play? Maybe, but in being brave in the attempt they can be proud of themselves for not letting their struggles and limitations hold them back. I let everything hold me back. And then there is that oath, that oath that sounds more like a prayer: "Let me win. But if I cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt." Of all the words that I could use to describe myself, "brave" does not make the list.
I know that I cannot heal from things if I don't put in the work. I know that I will never have the things that I want if I never try. Perhaps I am not meant to be healed. Perhaps the things I want were never intended for me. Here is what I know: By the grace of God through the blood of Christ I have already won. But I still have to be here until He calls me home, so here is my prayer:
"Father, let me live--REALLY live as though I have already won.
But if I stumble while living, help me be brave in the attempt."
One of the things I love most about Special Olympics is the Athlete Oath: "Let me win. But if I cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt." One of the guys in the group I was overseeing had "Being brave in the attempt" on the back of his t-shirt. It is an amazing experience to watch people with disabilities give their all in athletic endeavors. They are so focused and determined and the joy on their faces when they achieve their goal . . . I find myself envying them. I see how much the athletes struggle just to roll a bowling ball. They don't care about what they look like, they just want to make the strike.
It humbles me.
I'm struggling with some things at the moment, primarily depression and sleep issues. Those things affect how I perceive my world, my life. I am frustrated over the things I've always longed for and don't have. I'm wrestling with my weight because the doctor told me I need to lose quite a bit by May. I'm weary of the thoughts in my head that keep assaulting what I know is the truth. I'm tired of being afraid and everything seeming so hard . . . and then I spend time with Special Olympic athletes.
No matter how hard I may have to fight in my own life, I will never have to fight as hard as they. Do they want to win every game they play? Maybe, but in being brave in the attempt they can be proud of themselves for not letting their struggles and limitations hold them back. I let everything hold me back. And then there is that oath, that oath that sounds more like a prayer: "Let me win. But if I cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt." Of all the words that I could use to describe myself, "brave" does not make the list.
I know that I cannot heal from things if I don't put in the work. I know that I will never have the things that I want if I never try. Perhaps I am not meant to be healed. Perhaps the things I want were never intended for me. Here is what I know: By the grace of God through the blood of Christ I have already won. But I still have to be here until He calls me home, so here is my prayer:
"Father, let me live--REALLY live as though I have already won.
But if I stumble while living, help me be brave in the attempt."
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Mavericks in a World Gone Rogue
Given the political uproar in our great nation of late, I thought I'd make use of a recurring term in all that din: "maverick". I laugh when I think about Tina Fey's Sarah Pallin on Saturday Night Live saying that she and McCain would get "all mavericky" once they made it to the White House. Often "rogue" is used in a similar context as maverick, but the words are quite different. A maverick is someone who doesn't conform to the standards around them. A rogue is someone who delights in evil, a villain. We live in a world gone rogue. Sin abounds, is overlooked, and sometimes--more often than not, in truth--is glamorized and glorified. Tolerance is the new buzz word. And people who care nothing for God's word or His ways will be the first to quote, "Judge not, lest you be judged. . ." (Matt 7:1ff) How those words have paralyzed God's people into ineffectiveness and apathy.
I was talking with a friend the other day about this very thing. Someone was doing wrong and someone else, fully aware of its utter inappropriateness said, "Well, I shouldn't judge . . . " My friend was incensed at this response. "People are so afraid of being 'judgmental'--wrong is wrong!" As God's people we are obligated to call wrong what it is. Even more than that we are obligated to call wrong what God calls it: sin. It should bother us as it bothers Him. Understand, though, that we are equally obligated to treat sinners as God does, as well, with love and grace. Anything God did in the Bible to bring sinners to repentance was done in love. Sometimes, especially in the Old Testament it is hard to comprehend how God's actions toward His Hebrews could be loving.
I've recently begun a study in Isaiah, an undertaking that daunts me. Isaiah is a challenging book to read and understand. I've avoided it for years because I didn't think I was smart enough on one hand and on the other hand, I was pretty sure it would not only confuse me but also scare the heck out of me. I know a lot of harrowing events were occurring in Israel during Isaiah's lifetime, so I wasn't sure that I wanted to really get up close and personal with those things. However, in my studies over the last year or so, I've come across many comforting, inspiring verses in Isaiah. My curiosity began to get the better of me as I learned more about the way God loves and has always loved His own. To help me in my endeavor, I've enlisted the help of Jim McGuiggan's The Book of Isaiah. So far, I have yet to get to the actual book of Isaiah part. McGuiggan lays out some important information necessary in understanding Isaiah in the beginning of the study.
He mentions God's response to sin saying, "In dealing with sin, God is not being loveless. Holiness is love refusing to live at peace with sin!"
Those words put God's love for Israel into a context that I had never grasped before. He loved them so much, but they continued to reject His love. He was going to save them in spite of themselves, so He spared a remnant from destruction and promised them a Savior who would free them from the oppression of sin for all time. Jesus showed them God's love in a way they could truly see. He healed their wounds, physical and spiritual, and gave Himself as the ultimate sin offering. In a world of spiritual apathy, Jesus was a maverick who inspired renewal. In a time of legalistic practice that could never save souls, Jesus restored humanity to its Creator.
We find ourselves in a similar situation today as God's people: A world of tolerance that confuses acceptance with approval. Paul admonishes us in Romans 12:2 "Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world . . ." This world where political correctness is prized over truth and righteousness. We are the mavericks in this world of self-gratification. Called by God to call sin by its name and to teach His truth in love. It's time to get mavericky!
I was talking with a friend the other day about this very thing. Someone was doing wrong and someone else, fully aware of its utter inappropriateness said, "Well, I shouldn't judge . . . " My friend was incensed at this response. "People are so afraid of being 'judgmental'--wrong is wrong!" As God's people we are obligated to call wrong what it is. Even more than that we are obligated to call wrong what God calls it: sin. It should bother us as it bothers Him. Understand, though, that we are equally obligated to treat sinners as God does, as well, with love and grace. Anything God did in the Bible to bring sinners to repentance was done in love. Sometimes, especially in the Old Testament it is hard to comprehend how God's actions toward His Hebrews could be loving.
I've recently begun a study in Isaiah, an undertaking that daunts me. Isaiah is a challenging book to read and understand. I've avoided it for years because I didn't think I was smart enough on one hand and on the other hand, I was pretty sure it would not only confuse me but also scare the heck out of me. I know a lot of harrowing events were occurring in Israel during Isaiah's lifetime, so I wasn't sure that I wanted to really get up close and personal with those things. However, in my studies over the last year or so, I've come across many comforting, inspiring verses in Isaiah. My curiosity began to get the better of me as I learned more about the way God loves and has always loved His own. To help me in my endeavor, I've enlisted the help of Jim McGuiggan's The Book of Isaiah. So far, I have yet to get to the actual book of Isaiah part. McGuiggan lays out some important information necessary in understanding Isaiah in the beginning of the study.
He mentions God's response to sin saying, "In dealing with sin, God is not being loveless. Holiness is love refusing to live at peace with sin!"
Those words put God's love for Israel into a context that I had never grasped before. He loved them so much, but they continued to reject His love. He was going to save them in spite of themselves, so He spared a remnant from destruction and promised them a Savior who would free them from the oppression of sin for all time. Jesus showed them God's love in a way they could truly see. He healed their wounds, physical and spiritual, and gave Himself as the ultimate sin offering. In a world of spiritual apathy, Jesus was a maverick who inspired renewal. In a time of legalistic practice that could never save souls, Jesus restored humanity to its Creator.
We find ourselves in a similar situation today as God's people: A world of tolerance that confuses acceptance with approval. Paul admonishes us in Romans 12:2 "Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world . . ." This world where political correctness is prized over truth and righteousness. We are the mavericks in this world of self-gratification. Called by God to call sin by its name and to teach His truth in love. It's time to get mavericky!
Monday, June 16, 2008
The Motion Picture Soundtrack
I think most people know my favorite band is Sister Hazel. It's true. I also love movie soundtracks. I think one of the most fun jobs in the world would be to be the person who gets to pick the music for a full-length feature film. To find the right song to convey what the characters in a film are struggling through or rejoicing over. Let's face it, music is a powerful force in movies. It can make a scary film scarier, a funny film funnier, and a film about the triumph of the human spirit downright victorious. And long after the movie is over, the movie soundtrack brings back those moments in the film that made us laugh, scream, or cry.
If my life were to be on film, Sister Hazel would consume most of the soundtrack of my life . . . mingled with a good deal of '80's pop. One song that would definitely make the voluminous compilation of "Lisa: The Motion Picture Soundtrack" is the inspiration for the title of this blog. Here follow the lyrics . . .
World Inside My Head
On the road to safe
I kinda tripped along the way
It just seemed like a nasty hassle
The path was greener on the one less traveled
That's where I remained
People so high they think
I can't hear the whispers
I can see it falling off their face
Their trying to shoot down my plane of grace
It seems like it's already hard enough
But the paint on me is beginning to dry
And it's not what I wanted to be
The weight on me
Is Hanging on to a weary angel
So tell me what it is about me
Where did everybody go without me
So, I like to fantasize
And watch the sunrise like it's a big surprise
Life moves and I stopped to taste it
I drank it up till it left me wasted
But my rains have bled
A softer red
Oh you should see the world inside my head
You can shackle me away
And try to wrap around my dreamer
I feel better when I paint my days
With purple seas
And left out grays
Strange is just a different point of view
But the paint on me is starting to dry
And it's not what I wanted to be
The weight on me
Is holding onto a weary angel
[Chorus]
I feel better when I paint my days
With purple seas
And left out grays
Strange is just a different point of view
But the pain on me is beginning to dry
And it's not what I want it to be
So wait on me
Wait on me
[Chorus]
(Richard N. Marx; Jeff Beres; Ryan Newell; Mark E. Trojanowski; Andrew Copeland; Ken Block; Skidd Mills)
What songs would make it on to the soundtrack of your life?
If my life were to be on film, Sister Hazel would consume most of the soundtrack of my life . . . mingled with a good deal of '80's pop. One song that would definitely make the voluminous compilation of "Lisa: The Motion Picture Soundtrack" is the inspiration for the title of this blog. Here follow the lyrics . . .
World Inside My Head
On the road to safe
I kinda tripped along the way
It just seemed like a nasty hassle
The path was greener on the one less traveled
That's where I remained
People so high they think
I can't hear the whispers
I can see it falling off their face
Their trying to shoot down my plane of grace
It seems like it's already hard enough
But the paint on me is beginning to dry
And it's not what I wanted to be
The weight on me
Is Hanging on to a weary angel
So tell me what it is about me
Where did everybody go without me
So, I like to fantasize
And watch the sunrise like it's a big surprise
Life moves and I stopped to taste it
I drank it up till it left me wasted
But my rains have bled
A softer red
Oh you should see the world inside my head
You can shackle me away
And try to wrap around my dreamer
I feel better when I paint my days
With purple seas
And left out grays
Strange is just a different point of view
But the paint on me is starting to dry
And it's not what I wanted to be
The weight on me
Is holding onto a weary angel
[Chorus]
I feel better when I paint my days
With purple seas
And left out grays
Strange is just a different point of view
But the pain on me is beginning to dry
And it's not what I want it to be
So wait on me
Wait on me
[Chorus]
(Richard N. Marx; Jeff Beres; Ryan Newell; Mark E. Trojanowski; Andrew Copeland; Ken Block; Skidd Mills)
What songs would make it on to the soundtrack of your life?
Friday, May 30, 2008
Mourning
I've been out of touch with the blog world the past couple of months. A lot's been happening in my world and the world inside my head . . . deep thoughts aplenty! I just haven't really known what to do with them. My grandfather passed away in April. It was a time of mixed emotions for me and my family. My grandfather suffered most of his life from schizophrenia and alcoholism and in his last years Parkinson's and Alzheimer's. My memories of him are tainted with fear and distrust, primarily because I didn't understand what was wrong with him and why he acted the way that he did. I used to think I would feel relieved when he passed, but I was sad. Sad about the relationship we never had or would ever have. Sad that I didn't know as a child what I know now about mental illness (silly, I know), wondering that if maybe I had, could I have given him more hope than what I was able to provide in my ignorance and fear? Sad that he had to suffer what he suffered, trapped in his head, lost and alone. I can't do anything about any of that now, I know, but the thoughts are there lurking as I work to move forward.
Today was the last day of school and with the end of this school-year came the end of many other things. In the weeks leading up to this end, I have had many ask me if I was ready for school to be out. My answer was "no". I wasn't ready for the end. I will be losing 3 students that I've had for 3 years. That was pretty rough, but I intend to keep up with them, so I didn't feel so bereft over them. The thing that I've been dreading most is the departure of "Triple-J": Jack, Jim, and John. Jack is my principal who is moving to a school up north to be Assistant Principle for high school, I believe. Jack is a godly man and a wonderful leader. He pushed to get a Life Skills class in his building and the kids loved him. He provided a sense of security and safety on his campus, and he strove to inspire his teachers to give their all to the children they served. I loved working in his building and will miss him. Jim was the school counselor. He had a quiet strength. He was a magic balm for Sonny. When no one else could get through to Sonny, Jim could. He's going to be the counselor for the high school and I've informed him that I will be calling him when I need help with Sonny next year with the expectation of his full and immediate cooperation. He laughed and said he'd be ready. A good man, a good heart that I'm going to miss being so accessible.
And then there was John. John was one of my teaching assistants and an answer to prayer. When I learned last summer that I would be losing one of my assistants from the year before, I immediately began praying for a new one. I had come to realize that God has been looking after me since I started teaching, regardless of how much I was communicating with Him. I said half-hearted prayers when it came to the acquisition of teaching assistants right before I met them, "Please, God let us get along well!" The Lord provided every single time, more than I could have hoped for. I thought, "What will He do for me if I pray with my whole heart?" So I did, and so came the answer in John. John was the best thing that has happened to my class. He is an amazing, positive male role model for my students, primarily boys. He taught them the importance of working hard, telling the truth, and taking responsibility for themselves--all things that I've taught them for 3 years, but in a way that only a man could succeed. John was creative, coming up with activities to do with them on the spot that were fun and educational at the same time. They never resisted doing anything Mr. John suggested. One day he taught them all how to write their names in Greek. He was trustworthy, patient, and everything I prayed for ("immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine . . . "). I never worried about being gone because John was there. He was a tremendous blessing and I will miss him and the stability and balance he brought to my classroom.
So I've been in mourning. So much in life is beyond our control, I know, but sometimes a person needs to just have a good cry over it in order to move forward. I mourn my grandfather, but I gained a deeper understanding of the vital importance of compassion and grace in our world. I mourn the end of a chapter in my teaching career under phenomenal leadership. I mourn the end of a good team running my classroom. I mourn the loss of a few good men. Like David, upon the looming death of the first child he had with Bathsheba, I mourn. When the child finally passed, David got up, cleaned up, and got on with things because there was nothing more he could do. In the same way: the year is over, I've said my goodbyes, and my mourning will end. I will get up tomorrow and get on with things. I will get on my knees and start praying about the year to come. I will pray for my new leadership and my new teaching assistants with wholehearted faith, knowing that God will provide.
Today was the last day of school and with the end of this school-year came the end of many other things. In the weeks leading up to this end, I have had many ask me if I was ready for school to be out. My answer was "no". I wasn't ready for the end. I will be losing 3 students that I've had for 3 years. That was pretty rough, but I intend to keep up with them, so I didn't feel so bereft over them. The thing that I've been dreading most is the departure of "Triple-J": Jack, Jim, and John. Jack is my principal who is moving to a school up north to be Assistant Principle for high school, I believe. Jack is a godly man and a wonderful leader. He pushed to get a Life Skills class in his building and the kids loved him. He provided a sense of security and safety on his campus, and he strove to inspire his teachers to give their all to the children they served. I loved working in his building and will miss him. Jim was the school counselor. He had a quiet strength. He was a magic balm for Sonny. When no one else could get through to Sonny, Jim could. He's going to be the counselor for the high school and I've informed him that I will be calling him when I need help with Sonny next year with the expectation of his full and immediate cooperation. He laughed and said he'd be ready. A good man, a good heart that I'm going to miss being so accessible.
And then there was John. John was one of my teaching assistants and an answer to prayer. When I learned last summer that I would be losing one of my assistants from the year before, I immediately began praying for a new one. I had come to realize that God has been looking after me since I started teaching, regardless of how much I was communicating with Him. I said half-hearted prayers when it came to the acquisition of teaching assistants right before I met them, "Please, God let us get along well!" The Lord provided every single time, more than I could have hoped for. I thought, "What will He do for me if I pray with my whole heart?" So I did, and so came the answer in John. John was the best thing that has happened to my class. He is an amazing, positive male role model for my students, primarily boys. He taught them the importance of working hard, telling the truth, and taking responsibility for themselves--all things that I've taught them for 3 years, but in a way that only a man could succeed. John was creative, coming up with activities to do with them on the spot that were fun and educational at the same time. They never resisted doing anything Mr. John suggested. One day he taught them all how to write their names in Greek. He was trustworthy, patient, and everything I prayed for ("immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine . . . "). I never worried about being gone because John was there. He was a tremendous blessing and I will miss him and the stability and balance he brought to my classroom.
So I've been in mourning. So much in life is beyond our control, I know, but sometimes a person needs to just have a good cry over it in order to move forward. I mourn my grandfather, but I gained a deeper understanding of the vital importance of compassion and grace in our world. I mourn the end of a chapter in my teaching career under phenomenal leadership. I mourn the end of a good team running my classroom. I mourn the loss of a few good men. Like David, upon the looming death of the first child he had with Bathsheba, I mourn. When the child finally passed, David got up, cleaned up, and got on with things because there was nothing more he could do. In the same way: the year is over, I've said my goodbyes, and my mourning will end. I will get up tomorrow and get on with things. I will get on my knees and start praying about the year to come. I will pray for my new leadership and my new teaching assistants with wholehearted faith, knowing that God will provide.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Deep Thoughts at the Garage Sale
I had a garage sale this weekend. I wonder at some of the things I have acquired over the years. Wonder why I kept it, that is. There were several items I can remember buying just a few years, and in some cases, months ago. For some reason, I thought they were things I couldn’t live without at the time. So dire was that need apparently, that I don’t feel a wrench as I write “25 cents” on a fluorescent sticker and place it on a handbag that cost me $30.
I know why I have kept all that stuff, rather why I “keep” stuff. It’s mostly because I don’t want to let go. Most of the items in this sale are things I’ve had for a very long time: a little doll someone gave me on my birthday, the scarves my grandmother used to keep in her drawer, some trinket I picked up in Scotland. They all connect me to someone or something, some place in time—someone, something, some place I hope to experience once more. I suppose that somewhere inside I feel that if I let go of these things, I am giving up that hope of return. I know that isn’t necessarily true, but it’s something I’ve always wrestled with.
There comes a time when you just have to let go, be it an item you’ve outgrown, the dream of a distant country, or a relationship you hoped to one day restore. Too often we hold on to things long after we’ve had to give them up, long after they have in whatever manner let go of us. Myself, I have spent hours, days, years even lamenting decisions I have made, friends I have lost, places in time that are gone forever except in my memory. “Why?” I wonder now. “Why did I hold on for so long . . . to something that wasn’t holding on to me?” Letting go doesn’t minimize the significance of an event or person in our lives. God closes the door on aspects of our lives so that we can focus on what He has planned for us, which is usually better than anything we could conceive ourselves. It’s still hard, though.
I resolved not to make any New Year’s resolutions this year. But since everyday in Christ is New Year’s Day, I’m resolved to work on not holding on to things that aren’t holding on to me. I want to stop being consumed by all that I can’t leave behind and be ready for what God has in store for me. It’s a good thing every day is New Year’s Day because it’s going to take a lot of New Year’s Days to get this one down.
I know why I have kept all that stuff, rather why I “keep” stuff. It’s mostly because I don’t want to let go. Most of the items in this sale are things I’ve had for a very long time: a little doll someone gave me on my birthday, the scarves my grandmother used to keep in her drawer, some trinket I picked up in Scotland. They all connect me to someone or something, some place in time—someone, something, some place I hope to experience once more. I suppose that somewhere inside I feel that if I let go of these things, I am giving up that hope of return. I know that isn’t necessarily true, but it’s something I’ve always wrestled with.
There comes a time when you just have to let go, be it an item you’ve outgrown, the dream of a distant country, or a relationship you hoped to one day restore. Too often we hold on to things long after we’ve had to give them up, long after they have in whatever manner let go of us. Myself, I have spent hours, days, years even lamenting decisions I have made, friends I have lost, places in time that are gone forever except in my memory. “Why?” I wonder now. “Why did I hold on for so long . . . to something that wasn’t holding on to me?” Letting go doesn’t minimize the significance of an event or person in our lives. God closes the door on aspects of our lives so that we can focus on what He has planned for us, which is usually better than anything we could conceive ourselves. It’s still hard, though.
I resolved not to make any New Year’s resolutions this year. But since everyday in Christ is New Year’s Day, I’m resolved to work on not holding on to things that aren’t holding on to me. I want to stop being consumed by all that I can’t leave behind and be ready for what God has in store for me. It’s a good thing every day is New Year’s Day because it’s going to take a lot of New Year’s Days to get this one down.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
The Grocery Store Format
I was at the grocery store the other evening. I decided to go to a different United than the one I have frequented for nearly 10 years because it's slightly closer to my apartment by about 30 seconds. I was almost immediately frustrated the moment I walked in. I would like to know how the powers that be in grocer chains decide what the layout will be for an individual store. To me it makes sense to build them them to have the exact same floorplan and stock arrangement. Now, I can understand the desire to cater to the neighborhood and the diversity therein, but is it too much to ask that the bittersweet chocolate always be directly across aisle from the cake mixes? Cannot the Mediterranean dried apricots be at the end of canned fruit and juice aisle in every store?
The thing that really struck me was the sign for Aisle 2: Religious Candles, Salsa, Mexican, Pasta, Spaghetti Sauce. Religious candles? I had to go check to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. Sure enough, at the end of Aisle 2A, just past the Mexican soda pop and across from the Noodle Roni was a collection of candles swathed in religious iconography. I didn't notice any saints for lost and confused grocery shoppers, one that might help me find the bittersweet chocolate.
Then I went to the one where I usually shop because at the very least I'll see that handsome management chap who I enjoy looking at. I was on a quest for mascarpone cheese to put in my tiramisu cake. I'd seen there before many times, but could I find it this trip? Nope. Not only that, I couldn't find any religious candles with patron saints to help me in my search. What is the deal, United people? It became a true quest as I sought out at the Wal-mart on West 82nd and Milwaukee, the Market Street on 82nd and Frankford and finally discovered my prize at the Original Market Street on 50th and Indiana. OK, so they cater to neighborhoods and all, but couldn't they make them the least bit familiar to the person who doesn't frequently shop there, but has to out of necessity. It's hard to get around in a strange place when you're far from home!
The thing that really struck me was the sign for Aisle 2: Religious Candles, Salsa, Mexican, Pasta, Spaghetti Sauce. Religious candles? I had to go check to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. Sure enough, at the end of Aisle 2A, just past the Mexican soda pop and across from the Noodle Roni was a collection of candles swathed in religious iconography. I didn't notice any saints for lost and confused grocery shoppers, one that might help me find the bittersweet chocolate.
Then I went to the one where I usually shop because at the very least I'll see that handsome management chap who I enjoy looking at. I was on a quest for mascarpone cheese to put in my tiramisu cake. I'd seen there before many times, but could I find it this trip? Nope. Not only that, I couldn't find any religious candles with patron saints to help me in my search. What is the deal, United people? It became a true quest as I sought out at the Wal-mart on West 82nd and Milwaukee, the Market Street on 82nd and Frankford and finally discovered my prize at the Original Market Street on 50th and Indiana. OK, so they cater to neighborhoods and all, but couldn't they make them the least bit familiar to the person who doesn't frequently shop there, but has to out of necessity. It's hard to get around in a strange place when you're far from home!
Thursday, January 17, 2008
All That We Ask or Imagine (and He really means ALL)
"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever!"
Ephesians 3:20-21 has long been a favorite verse of mine. It often energizes my prayer life as it reminds me Who I'm bringing my requests to. "Immeasurably more . . ." Doesn't it make you think big? Really, really BIG. Not only BIG, but bigger--more than we could ask, more than we could imagine. My brain hurts.
I've been thinking a lot about my time as a teacher in the last 5 years. I've also been thinking a lot about the things I don't ask for that God does for me, little things that it doesn't occur to me to imagine. I needed to get some work done on my car this week and it was going to take most of the day. When the brother still lived here, I could count on him to follow me to the repair shop, take me to work, and bring me back. Even now that he's moved, there are still people I could call on for help, but I hesitate to ask because it's not a small inconvenience to pick me up from the repair shop at 7a.m., drive me to the next town for work, drive back into Lubbock for wherever they work, come back out to get me, and then bring back into to town. Whew! I know many people who would gladly do that for me and wouldn't want me to think twice about it, but it's still a lot to ask.
So I asked Emma. Emma teaches in the classroom right next door to mine. She has been a tremendous help to me over the last few years as I've sought to navigate the the treacherous waters of Special Education and all of its paperwork. More than that, she has become a tremendous friend. Emma also lives just down the road from me and has helped me a couple of times now to get to work and back when I have found myself needing transportation. I've often heard it is no coincidence that we are in the time and place we find ourselves. It's no coincidence that I started getting to know Emma in workshops and meetings a year before I'd be working in her building. Or that my classroom ended up being right next door to hers and she lives in Lubbock, just down the street from me. Am I saying that God provided Emma so I could have a ride to school when my car needed new tires? No. But He provided Emma and in providing Emma, He has taken care of me. He provided a model, an advisor, a mentor, a friend, and something as insignificant as a ride to work. As grateful as I am for Emma's generous spirit, I am more grateful for the 30 minutes of visiting in the car that I got with a friend with whom I don't get enough time. Nothing is insignificant about that.
Ephesians 3:20-21 has long been a favorite verse of mine. It often energizes my prayer life as it reminds me Who I'm bringing my requests to. "Immeasurably more . . ." Doesn't it make you think big? Really, really BIG. Not only BIG, but bigger--more than we could ask, more than we could imagine. My brain hurts.
I've been thinking a lot about my time as a teacher in the last 5 years. I've also been thinking a lot about the things I don't ask for that God does for me, little things that it doesn't occur to me to imagine. I needed to get some work done on my car this week and it was going to take most of the day. When the brother still lived here, I could count on him to follow me to the repair shop, take me to work, and bring me back. Even now that he's moved, there are still people I could call on for help, but I hesitate to ask because it's not a small inconvenience to pick me up from the repair shop at 7a.m., drive me to the next town for work, drive back into Lubbock for wherever they work, come back out to get me, and then bring back into to town. Whew! I know many people who would gladly do that for me and wouldn't want me to think twice about it, but it's still a lot to ask.
So I asked Emma. Emma teaches in the classroom right next door to mine. She has been a tremendous help to me over the last few years as I've sought to navigate the the treacherous waters of Special Education and all of its paperwork. More than that, she has become a tremendous friend. Emma also lives just down the road from me and has helped me a couple of times now to get to work and back when I have found myself needing transportation. I've often heard it is no coincidence that we are in the time and place we find ourselves. It's no coincidence that I started getting to know Emma in workshops and meetings a year before I'd be working in her building. Or that my classroom ended up being right next door to hers and she lives in Lubbock, just down the street from me. Am I saying that God provided Emma so I could have a ride to school when my car needed new tires? No. But He provided Emma and in providing Emma, He has taken care of me. He provided a model, an advisor, a mentor, a friend, and something as insignificant as a ride to work. As grateful as I am for Emma's generous spirit, I am more grateful for the 30 minutes of visiting in the car that I got with a friend with whom I don't get enough time. Nothing is insignificant about that.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
My Favorite Things . . . Top Fives
Happy New Year! I contemplated writing something thought-provoking and profound. I think, though, that I'd prefer to talk about the things in life that I enjoy and learn a little more about things that you all enjoy. Stealing from the John Cusack flick "High Fidelity", here are some of my Top Fives.
Females in Literature:
1. Hermione Granger--Harry Potter Series
2. Elizabeth Bennett--Pride and Prejudice
3. Eowyn--Lord of the Rings Trilogy
4. Anne Shirley--Anne of Green Gables
5. Beatrice--Much Ado About Nothing
Comedic Characters in Film:
1. Captain Jack Sparrow--Pirates of the Caribbean
2. Dorie--Finding Nemo
3. Spike--Notting Hill
4. Billy Mack--Love Actually
5. Stuart McKenzie (dad)--So, I Married An Axe Murderer
If I Could Have Been Anything Else:
1. Women's Auxillary Ferrying Service Pilot--WWII
2. Figure Skater
3. 1940's-50's Dancer in Movie Musical
4. Master Chef
5. The person who determines the music in movie sequences
Things I Hope to Do:
1. Hike the West Highland Way in Scotland.
2. Visit Ireland
3. Hike Mt. Fuji
4. Visit Prince Edward Island
5. Go to Disneyworld
This is all about fun, people. You can list as few or as many as you want. Thanks for reading this last year. I wish all of you a wonderful, blessed 2008!
Females in Literature:
1. Hermione Granger--Harry Potter Series
2. Elizabeth Bennett--Pride and Prejudice
3. Eowyn--Lord of the Rings Trilogy
4. Anne Shirley--Anne of Green Gables
5. Beatrice--Much Ado About Nothing
Comedic Characters in Film:
1. Captain Jack Sparrow--Pirates of the Caribbean
2. Dorie--Finding Nemo
3. Spike--Notting Hill
4. Billy Mack--Love Actually
5. Stuart McKenzie (dad)--So, I Married An Axe Murderer
If I Could Have Been Anything Else:
1. Women's Auxillary Ferrying Service Pilot--WWII
2. Figure Skater
3. 1940's-50's Dancer in Movie Musical
4. Master Chef
5. The person who determines the music in movie sequences
Things I Hope to Do:
1. Hike the West Highland Way in Scotland.
2. Visit Ireland
3. Hike Mt. Fuji
4. Visit Prince Edward Island
5. Go to Disneyworld
This is all about fun, people. You can list as few or as many as you want. Thanks for reading this last year. I wish all of you a wonderful, blessed 2008!
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