Category Archives: Uncategorized

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63,072,000

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Today is our wedding anniversary.

63,072,000 seconds

1,051,200 minutes

17,520 hours

731 days

104 weeks

24 months

2 years

I am so blessed to be married to this man who just wants to take care of me.

I will always be grateful for this man who opens doors for me,  pulls out my chair and prepares my first cup of coffee every morning.

I am so happy that this mans works so hard, but still finds ways to make me laugh.

I will never underestimate the value of the man who loves and serves all of our adult children.

I will never take for granted this man who is so passionate about our life together.

He is my friend, my confidante, my joy, my lover, my husband.  I love him more that I did two years ago, more than I thought possible.

Here’s to the rest of our lives together.  Whether it’s for 1 second or 1 Billion seconds, I am so glad we get to spend it together!

wedding2015

“24 Wives, understand and support your husbands in ways that show your support for Christ. The husband provides leadership to his wife the way Christ does to his church, not by domineering but by cherishing. So just as the church submits to Christ as he exercises such leadership, wives should likewise submit to their husbands.

25-28 Husbands, go all out in your love for your wives, exactly as Christ did for the church—a love marked by giving, not getting. Christ’s love makes the church whole. His words evoke her beauty. Everything he does and says is designed to bring the best out of her, dressing her in dazzling white silk, radiant with holiness. And that is how husbands ought to love their wives. They’re really doing themselves a favor—since they’re already “one” in marriage.

29-33 No one abuses his own body, does he? No, he feeds and pampers it. That’s how Christ treats us, the church, since we are part of his body. And this is why a man leaves father and mother and cherishes his wife. No longer two, they become “one flesh.” This is a huge mystery, and I don’t pretend to understand it all. What is clearest to me is the way Christ treats the church. And this provides a good picture of how each husband is to treat his wife, loving himself in loving her, and how each wife is to honor her husband.”

Ephesians 5:24-33 MSG

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Service or Performance: Does it Matter

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During the aftermath of Hurricane Harvey, we have all seen acts of service for others affected by the storm. Churches, organizations, businesses and first responders have all banded together to do what is needed to evacuate and to provide food and shelter to storm victims. Teams of people from schools, religious organizations, neighborhoods as well as out-of-state volunteers have come into the area to clear out debris and start the recovery process. The response has been immediate and awe-inspiring. The servant’s heart has had ample use this month.  The opportunities for selfless service have been endless as have the opportunities for those seeking the limelight of recognition.  Does the motive for serving matter?

Having a servant’s heart means to put other’s needs ahead of our own.  A person with a servant’s heart doesn’t look for rewards or recognition or even gratitude.  In our social media heavy world, we walk a fine line between giving information  and seeking recognition.  There were many, many groups posting on the various social sites about helping after the storm.  These posts were important because they  got information out to those that needed it in a rather efficient manner.  Volunteers were organized.  Needs were recognized.  It worked pretty well.  There were lots of photo ops with people working and helping both neighbors and strangers.  Our city came together to help.  As the days passed, I began to see more “LOOK AT ME” posts.  The transition was gradual, but the “where can I help” posts became selfies touting “look what I did today”.  The photo ops were still there, but the focus was changing to “ME”.  Needs were still being addressed.  So, I kept asking myself, “Does it matter why we serve?”

This is a question I ask myself, quite often for some very different reasons.  I have years of experience leading worship in churches.  I started singing in church when I was 5 years old and sang “Little Baby in a Manger” at the Christmas Program.  I’ve sung solos and in groups.  I’ve played the piano and the organ for several congregations.  I’ve even played my trombone on several occasions.  I know that I can sing.  When leading others in worship, I had to review my own motives every week.  Was I singing because I wanted God to be honored or was I really enjoying the spot-light?  To be honest, there was a little of both most of the time.  I love music and I love to sing.  During a season of my life, the only reason I had to be in a worship service was because “I” was on stage.  I did not participate in anything else.  I realized that I wanted (maybe even needed) the reward of recognition that came through performing on Sundays.  But, there were also times when the greatest worship time I received was in rehearsing to lead others in worship.  It was in those moments when I KNEW that God had given me a purpose.

In the 80’s, I heard a sermon that addressed the many people who had come to salvation through the work of some well-known and fallen evangelists.  Jim and Tammy Bakker & Jimmy Swaggart were known as ministers of God’s word.  They built their ministry serving others and reaching out to others in need.  The Bible was taught.  People were saved.  But supporting the ministry became the primary need.  People were no longer encouraged to be involved in their local church.  Once the performers became more important than the God they served, things came crashing down.   A lot of people were hurt and  turned their backs on God as a result.  I believe we have to look at our own motives for every act of service.

In most cases, I don’t know that it matters to anyone else why we choose to serve others.  As long as we are meeting the needs of those around us, we are fulfilling a purpose.  In the end, though, we have to stand before God and give an account of our lives.  I will have to own up to the times that I was more interested in the praise of others than I was in following Him as a servant.  I will have to admit the times I was fishing for a compliment.  I will have to confess the moments when I wanted my star to shine brighter than any other.  I will have to face the moments when performance and not service was my primary goal.

 

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A Great Man

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I have known a few great men in my life.  A great man teaches by just the way they live each day.  Today, the world lost another truly great man, James Streit.

I first remember Mr. Streit when we went to find out about band in the 5th grade. My mother and I were looking at the various instruments and someone asked “What instruments will you need?”  and he replied, trombones.  And that made my decision.  I was going to play the trombone.  When my own children began band, I realized how truly patient Mr. Streit was with we beginners.  We weren’t nearly as good as we thought, but Mr. Streit always made us feel like we were superior!

As a sixth grader, Mr. Streit was my home room teacher as well as my Texas History teacher.  That was the first year that the Crowell Marching Band made all  I’s at contest.  Our home room class made posters and had a little “coke” party for Mr. Streit that day.  I’ll never forget his bashful grin and little laugh when he walked into the room.

Mr. Streit encouraged all of us to go to band tryouts.  The first year I went to tryouts, there were only 5 of us.  By the time I was a junior in high school, we took 2 school buses to the tryouts.  Mr. Streit worked with every student.  It didn’t matter if you had a gift for music or if you couldn’t “carry a tune in a bucket”, he treated us all the same.

There are several things that immediately bring Mr. Streit to mind: 1) circles, 2) the songs “Light my Fire” and “Sweet Caroline” and 3) music stands.

We learned so many circle drills during my 6 years in the CHS band.  (Yes, 6 years.  We started marching as 7th graders.)  We did circles with crosses in the middle.  We did circles with bands running from one to the other.  We did a circle and a square.  We did a 4 circle drill.  While there were other songs that we used for circle drills, “Light my Fire” is the one that sticks in my mind.  When I hear it, I am immediately transported to the practice field with little flags marking our circles and the positions.  The time he spent prepping our shows was amazing.  We learned several shows through the season, not just one and he always stressed that we were a concert band that marched.  And, “Sweet Caroline”.  On my, how many times did we play that one as the band sweetheart or the homecoming queen and their courts were walked across the field.  I can almost feel the breeze and see the lights of the stadium even now.

One of my favorite memories involved Mr. Streit’s music stand.  One of the things that anyone that had Mr. Streit in band will always remember is his temper.  Mr. Streit was a very calm, very nice man.  But, as the stress level rose, so did his breaking point.  We all knew that at some point during marching season, the megaphone would go flying.  It was never thrown at anyone in particular, just at the ground in frustration.  There would be stomping and yelling.  Then, he would regain his composure (and we would try not to snicker) and rehearsal would resume with a new focus.  Similarly, during concert season, we came to expect a blowup.  When he reached the end of his patience with our antics and/or lack of attention, Mr. Streit would pick up his music stand and band it on the floor.  Sometimes, several times to get our attention.  There were several of us, including Mr. Streit’s son Scott, that spent our study hall in the band hall.  Sometimes, we practiced.  Sometimes, we sorted music or ran errands.  Usually, we just wanted out of study hall.  On this particular day, we knew that Mr. Streit was nearing his breaking point.  So, “someone” loosened the screws that held the music stand together.  That afternoon during our band period, we went out of our way to be annoying.  Finally, Mr. Streit had enough.  He picked up the music stand, but this time it fell apart in his hands;   the sound of metal pieces falling across the floor.  He stood there for a moment and then looked up.   For a moment, I thought he might throw the remains at us as tried to hold back the giggles.  He blushed, shook his head and laughed with us.

The highest honor that a band could received was to be named the state honor band.  In 1975-1976, the Crowell High School Band was the ranking Class A All State Honor Band.  In the fall of ’75, we began preparing for the marching season and our TMEA concert.  That meant, full rehearsals in the mornings before school started as well as our normal afternoon band period and our Tuesday night rehearsal.  We worked hard.  There were sectionals in our band hall as well as in  Wichita Falls.  We had clinicians that came and heard us and made suggestions.  The low brass clinician was Mr. Charles Enloe.  We went to Wichita Falls several times to rehearse with him.  After one session, we were back in our band and we began playing Chorale and Capriccio.  There’s a section that was all trombone.  Mr. Enloe had taught us to blast that section out.  The first time we did it in rehearsal, Mr. Streit stopped us and told  us “Not to do that!”.  The next time Mr. Enloe was around, he was quite upset when we didn’t play like he had directed.  This went on for a few sessions.  Finally, Mr. Enloe did a band clinic and we played the section like Mr. Streit had directed.  Mr. Enloe landed right in the middle of the trombone section giving us quite a tongue lashing.  I can still see Mr. Streit walking around the gym behind Mr. Enloe looking back at me rather sheepishly during this time.  He did admit to Mr. Enloe that we were following his directions.  We played it Mr. Enloe’s way from then on.

I am so blessed to have had Mr. Streit in my life.  I was an adult with kids before many of the things he taught me really came to light.  He taught me that people will rise to your expectations.  He taught me that you treat everyone as if they are the best.  He taught me not to play favorites.  There are students that Mr. Streit touched that had never felt important or valuable.  He instilled value in his students.  He invested his time and energy in building the best students he could and built the best program in the area.  I can only try to impart the same things to the people who come across my path.  Thank you Mr. Streit.  You were more that just a band director.  You were an example of goodness and kindness.

Our world is better for having known James Streit.  He will be missed.

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When Church is a Building

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When you hear talk about “the church”, what comes to mind?  Is it a building with a steeple with a cross on top?  Do you think of a place for weddings or funerals?  Does a picture of intolerance come to mind? Or, do you think of a group of people who make up the body of Christ?

Most of the times when I hear “the church” discussed, it’s a synonym for “organized religion.”  Over and over, it has been said “I can worship God on my own.  I don’t need organized religion telling me what to do.”  “The church” is seen as another  entity that will try to control the way they think, or dress or behave.  And, in all honesty, that fear comes based on some history.

At various times, “the church” has been identified as judgmental and negative.  Having grown up in the Baptist church, there always seemed to be “nos” that we had to remember.   As a teen, it seemed that if it was fun, we weren’t allowed to participate.  Many of the rules that were laid out were not Biblically based.  When we would question why we couldn’t dance, the answers were vague and very unconvincing.  Alcohol was another hazy area.  We were definitely told “NO!” but all through the Bible, we saw examples of drinking wine.  As a young teen, I was told by a church teacher that the wine mentioned in the Bible “didn’t have alcohol added yet. ”  this worked for a little while with me, but eventually I figured out that this was false.  I don’t believe that my Sunday School teacher lied to me.  She just stated what she believed to be true.   I wonder how many people were dissuaded from following Christ because of the numerous rules and regulations that were enforced by “the church”?  Now, please don’t misunderstand, I believe that there are sins that need to be corrected.  And, I believe that we need to stand up for what we believe.  However, when the message becomes “you have to do it this way to be accepted”, then, we lose the message that God loves and transforms people, and we have a problem.

Too often, we spend out time trying to correct the unchurched and fix their issues.  when, in reality, it’s the people within the walls of the “church” that need to be corrected.  We need to lose our “holier than thou” attitudes.  Once again, I have a confession:  I LOVE big churches and chapels.  I enjoy organ music and old hymns.  I was taught to respect the inner sanctum of the sanctuary:  no running, no jumping, no food, no drinks, etc.  As an adult, I’ve come to understand that God doesn’t stay in the sanctuary.  I’ve learned to worship in a school, a strip center, a movie theater or a gym.  It’s not the place  that needs to be revered, but God Himself.

I currently attend church in a movie theater.  Today, was the 4 year anniversary of meeting there.  The first Sunday, there were 85 people.  Today, we fill the theater for 2 services and that doesn’t count the theaters used for the children.   God meets us there.  He doesn’t mind the drinks and food (yes, sometimes popcorn) in the theater during worship.  He doesn’t mind hearing the sound track from the neighboring movie theater in the background of our service.  He works in spite of it all.  This has been a big change for me.  I’m used to regular services, in a permanent building with Sunday School classes at 9:45.  We have 2 services and Life Groups that meet during the week.  And, we are growing.   We have no plans to build. And, I’m glad.

I’ve witnessed time and time again when churches lose sight of their calling after they become a building.  The time during the funding and building phase is a time of goal setting and dreams.  Everyone is excited about what God is doing.  Miracles often are seen during this time of faith and growth.  Then the building is dedicated.  And, the excitement wanes.  There are arguments about the use and colors.  The struggle to pay the bills and the upkeep becomes primary.  The differing views on what is sacred and what is not causes issues.  And, I think, worst of all it becomes comfortable.  There’s no longer the push to grow and stretch and stand on faith.

The Houston area has had a hard week.  Hurricane Harvey has destroyed much in it’s  path.  This week has been at time to see that “the church” is not building.  The Church is a body of believers that work together to spread the love and forgiveness of God.  We’ve seen examples of this from all over the city.  We’ve seen churches opened for people to come in and take shelter.  We’ve had the opportunity to be a living, breathing example to others in our community, both inside and outside of the church.  We are still being given the opportunity to  be more than a building.

The Church is more than a building.  It’s more than a denomination.  We are challenged to prove to the people around us that our God is relevant, that we are more than an organized religion.  Let’s take the challenge!

 

 

 

 

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But, I Want to be Angry!

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I am beginning to avoid reading anything from the news to social media these days.  Everywhere I turn, someone is tearing down someone else.  It’s bad enough when it’s people that I do not know, but when life long friends take to social media to bash other life long friends (either openly or passively), I cringe.  I’m not going to weigh in on the “controversy du jour”.  It really doesn’t matter what the issue is or is not.  The reason changes weekly if not daily, but the voices, the criticism, the anger never change.  I’ve reconciled myself to the fact that there are some who are just angry and need to have something or someone on which to focus that anger.

I believe in free speech.  I believe in candor and honesty.  I also believe that a little tact goes a long, long way to promote the unity of opposing sides.  I enjoy a healthy debate.  I think discussions are pivotal to a healthy community and world.  But, mud-slinging and name calling are not be part of it.  Social media does very little to foster productive discussions and usually just fans the flames of both sides.  My opinion may not matter to you, but it does to me.  I have been known to adjust my views when presented with a calm and rational argument.  Continuous bashing and belittling of others’ convictions or opinions (right or wrong) are perceived as anything but calm or rational.  I had a supervisor who mentored me in my younger days to pick my battles carefully.  I learned to take a deep breathe and step away for a bit to collect my thoughts BEFORE I bulldozed through the issue.  I discovered that I usually got much better acceptance and cooperation this way and the outcome was often what I wanted in the beginning.  The path to get there was just a little different.

So, take a breathe.  Calm down.  Anger is debilitating to the bearer and often counter-productive.  As many old grandpappies have said, “You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”

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Gray is not for Cakes

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I have always loved the color PURPLE!  I’m drawn to the color in everything from clothes to décor.  I have my favorite purple sweatshirt with my name on the front.  My dad helped me paint my trombone case purple.  I had a purple furry coat.  I just loved the color.  And, I still do today.

When I was about 10 years old, my parents and younger sister took an October trip to the Ozark Mountains.  My brother and I stayed with my grandparents and my Aunt Ruth, who was just a few years older than me.  My birthday was very near this time, so Ruth and I decided we needed to make a birthday cake.  And of course, I wanted a purple cake.  We did not have access to the myriad of food coloring products that are available today.  We had the box of 4 basic food colors from the grocery store: red, green, yellow & blue.  My aunt was in Junior High, so we knew that we could mix the red and the blue to get a beautiful color of purple.  We mixed the cake (from scratch) and then added the food coloring.  The cake was more lavender than truly purple, but that was okay.  After transferring our batter to the pans, we decided that swirls of color would be even better.  So, we added drops of all of the colors to the cake in the pans and stirred it around.  We stirred a little too much we would discover later.  The  beautiful purple cake I had envisioned was more gray than purple.  There were flecks of color here and there, but over all, it was a gray cake.  It tasted great, but it was not very appealing to the eye.

I am going the Bible chronologically this year.  Recently, I’ve been in the books of 2 Kings and 2 Chronicles.  The various kings for both Israel and Judah are listed and their history is recorded.  I found it interesting that each account included one of these statements:  “as far as God was concerned, he lived a bad life” or “in God’s opinion he was a good king” or “… did what pleased God for as long as he lived (even so he did not . . .)”  There were several kings that were just bad.  They worshiped other gods and led the people to do the same.  There were a few kings that did what God decreed and destroyed the other temples and led the people to worship Jehovah only.  And then there were the kings that lived the way God decreed, but allowed the people to continue to live in sin by worshiping other gods.  These were the “grey” kings.  If you kept your eyes closed or didn’t look too closely, they were good kings.  But, they didn’t follow God completely.  They failed the people they were chosen to lead.

When I look at my own life, I wonder if my life is “gray” when God looks at it.  I don’t think I’m living a bad life where God is concerned.   But, do I live in a way that pleases God?  Am I a royal purple follower of Christ and His commandments? Or, do I slip into the “grey” area that encompasses too many things?  Have I become so desensitized to the sins around me that I just don’t realize it?  Is political correctness the center of my focus or is God’s word?  Do I show compassion to everyone or just to the people I “like” in that moment?

I think we all like to believe that we are on the side of right.  I don’t know anyone that deliberately takes a stand that they believe is wrong.  However, we can’t all be right about everything.  Just as the early kings of Judah and Israel condoned the sex-and-religion worship by allowing temples to be built to worship the gods of fertility, we condone everything that makes us uncomfortable by NOT speaking up.  It’s just easier to live our own lives and ignore those around us.  I’m not advocating throwing stones at others.  I do firmly believe that we are to be kind and compassionate to those around us.  But, do those around you know what you believe?  Do they see someone who God is blessing when they see you?  Do you take a stand on a daily basis or is the act of attending Sunday and/or Wednesday services enough of a witness?  Is your relationship with God based solely on the current crisis in your life or do you spend time with Him daily regardless of circumstances?

Too many additions and too little knowledge/experience, made my birthday cake grey.  I don’t want my life to be gray.  I want the knowledge that comes from reading the scriptures.  I want to experience everything that God has to offer.  I want to follow Him completely and to exclude anything that is outside of His will.  That’s doesn’t mean I wont make mistakes.  (I can promise you I will make plenty of them!)  It does mean that I will stay aware and correct any mistakes with God’s help.  It does mean that I may have to give up some things.  I may have to get up a little earlier to spend time with God.  I may not get to sleep in on Sundays because I NEED to be in church worshipping with others.  I may have to give up my reliance on “finger-crossing” and “quick prayers” to really spend time with God to learn what I need to know.  I may have to learn to be part of the crowd and not in the spot-light where others can see me and comment on how wonderful I am.

Gray is a popular color for walls.  But, I don’t recommend it for birthday cakes.  Or life.

 

 

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The “F” Word

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It’s not what you think.  It’s not THAT “F” word.  It’s the “F” word that we fear, that we try to escape.   And, it’s the “F” word commonly accepted and used in our own self-talk.  To which “F” word am I referring?  FAILURE!  No one sets out to be a failure.  To fail is not acceptable in most areas of life.  Yet, how often do you or I accept failure as a way of living?  Why do we allow our own minds to attach failure to so much of our lives?  Why?

I struggle with depression.  I’m also an “overachiever”.  After my late husband’s death, feeling down became “normal.”  Just being able to get out of bed or a day without tears was a good day.   I learned to cope.  I convinced myself I was okay.  Because, I needed to be okay.  To be anything else, was to be weak.  I could not and would not be weak.  That was failing.  I read the books.  I did all the things I was told I needed to do (except counseling!) I moved on with my life.  I didn’t excel at life, but I was living.

Do you know some symptoms of an overachiever?  These taken are from John Eliot, Ph.D., a clinical professor in human performance at Texas A&M University and author of Overachievement.

  1. It’s all about the outcome:  Overachievers view failure more as a personal reflection on themselves
  2. You secretly think you’re not good enough:  While some people will “self-sabotage” when they feel inadequate, overachievers stake their identities on performance in order to conquer self-doubt.
  3. There is a short list of things you want to be good at: and that list only includes things you know you’ll be judged on.
  4. Criticism is the worst:  It all goes back to the fear of failure — overachievers’ public enemy No. 1 is criticism, because it implies that they failed at something.
  5. You’re very future-focused:  Because overachievers are constantly trying to avoid bad outcomes, they are heavily focused on the future — and as a result, often neglect the present.
  6. You feel anxious a lot:  Constantly worrying about what the future holds and achieving everything that needs to be achieved is a recipe for stress.
  7. You’re a perfectionist:  Overachievers may also be concerned about being a perfect spouse or parent, or having a perfect home.
  8. In high school, you were the one in 15 clubs:  They had an A in every class, participated in every club and went to music lessons and sports practices — all in the name of a strong college application.
  9. Being able to provide your child with all the opportunities in the world has more to do with your fear of being a bad parent, and less to do with helping your child realize his or her interests and passions.  All parents, to some extent, feel the need to “do it all” for their kids. But overachievers tend to do it big — attending every PTA meeting, making goodies for the bake sales, volunteering in class, constantly checking up with the child’s teacher — because they care so much about being the best parents.
  10. Crunch-time is the worst time:  When the stakes are high, “the overachiever tends to make mistakes in that situation, and are more out to choke because they’re so concerned with the outcome.

I never quite live up to the ideals that I picture for myself.  The smallest glitch can send me into a tailspin:  I’m not a good mother, I’m failing as a wife, I’m just not good enough.  I struggle with the fear of being utterly alone and unloved, of not being good enough to earn the love of those for whom I care so deeply.  I’m caught in a whirlwind of needing to be the best and feeling like a failure at every turn.  This, in turn, leads to anxiety and depression.

I am fortunate.  I have a husband that is constantly reassuring me.  I have friends that love and support me and are always there with words of encouragement.  I have a counselor that listens to my irrational fears and helps me see the truth.  I don’t want to be a victim of the “F” word.  I struggle each day to see value in myself and my actions.

I’m encouraged when I read  that others in the Bible suffered bouts of depression.  David wrote in Psalm 38: 21-22:

Don’t dump me, God;
    my God, don’t stand me up.
Hurry and help me;
    I want some wide-open space in my life!

There are several scriptures that talk about anxiety and trust.  Believe me, I’ve read them all.  I go to those verses when I’m overwhelmed with the daily concerns of life, when I am confronted with my lack of perfection.  I don’t want to fail.  I will not fail.  God is with me every step of the way.  I must look to His strength and remember it is through His love that I am made perfect.

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Invisible

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invisible

Do you ever feel invisible?

Are there times your voice is not heard?  Is it because you do not speak up?  Or are the other voices and sounds drowning you out?

Do you ever want to be, maybe even need to be,  invisible?

When I was newly widowed, there were many times I felt invisible.  I didn’t fit into any group.  I was no longer married, but wasn’t quite single, either.  My friends were still in the married group.  I moved from “part of the group” to “third wheel” status in the blink of an eye.  I didn’t know how to be seen.  Others seemed to look through me, not ever seeing the ME that stood there.  I didn’t know how to be seen, because I didn’t know how to see myself.   I watched as others buzzed around and wondered how I could be so lonely in a such a busy group of people.  I didn’t know how speak up,  it was easier to fade away than to endure the pain of living in the world in which I no longer belonged.

One can be invisible for lots of reasons.  When another’s need to be recognized  is louder and more aggressive than your own, their need pushes all others out-of-the-way.  I feel the shutters begin to close in around me.  My opinion doesn’t matter.  My voice in not important.  Even the facts and information that I know are dismissed and discounted if they are not in agreement.  I am forced to disappear within myself to avoid further conflict.  It is often that very need to avoid conflict that pushes me further onto the sidelines.  When I am helpless to change anything, when  I’m caught on the carousel of life and there’s no way to regain control, I disappear.

There are times when I try to blend into the background.   There are other times when I need desperately to be heard,  to be seen.  But, I’m  invisible.   It’s as if I’m speaking in an unknown language or wearing the cloak of invisibility.  No one is listening.  No one sees me.  Regardless of how hard I try, I cannot break through.  I begin to believe that I’m truly invisible, that I truly do not matter.  And, that is the real problem.  I accept the invisibility.  I stop trying.  I fade away.

We need to be aware of those invisible people that surround us.  The invisible person may be that homeless person that has become a part of the background.  The invisible person may be the senior citizen that tells the same stories over and over and over again.  The invisible person may be the widow that reminds you how fragile life is.  The invisible person may be a friend or family member that refuses to see things your way causing you to rethink your own ideas or decisions. Invisible people surround us.  They work in the deli’s in our offices.  They stand on the street corners.  They are our neighbors, our friends, our family.  We need to put on our “X-ray vision” and find those invisible people.  We need to see them.  Listen to them.  We need to care.

God, investigate my life;
    get all the facts firsthand.
I’m an open book to you;
    even from a distance, you know what I’m thinking.
You know when I leave and when I get back;
    I’m never out of your sight.
You know everything I’m going to say
    before I start the first sentence.
I look behind me and you’re there,
    then up ahead and you’re there, too—
    your reassuring presence, coming and going.
This is too much, too wonderful—
    I can’t take it all in!

 Is there anyplace I can go to avoid your Spirit?
    to be out of your sight?
If I climb to the sky, you’re there!
    If I go underground, you’re there!
If I flew on morning’s wings
    to the far western horizon,
You’d find me in a minute—
    you’re already there waiting!
Then I said to myself, “Oh, he even sees me in the dark!
    At night I’m immersed in the light!”
It’s a fact: darkness isn’t dark to you;
    night and day, darkness and light, they’re all the same to you.

Psalm 139 :1-12  MSG

 

 

Unknown's avatar

Joy

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beau.jpg

Beau (aka Travis) waiting for his morning belly rub.

Travis was rescued from death.  Literally.  Estimated to be about 7 months old when he was found at a construction site, Travis was so sick they didn’t think he would survive the night.  He had hookworms that had drained most of his lifeblood from him.  He had an injury to his left eye that left a cloudy ulceration.  He couldn’t lift his head.  He received transfusions for 3 days.  For weeks, he wouldn’t even open his injured eye.  He was kept in isolation since he was weak and couldn’t see very well.  He was given food and water, vitamins, eye-drops, worming medication.  He began to recover.  He willingly took his vitamins and sat very still for his eye-drops.  Given any opportunity to snuggle up to his rescuer, he did.  He craved attention.

 

I first saw his picture on the PUPS website.   I was hooked.  I talked to his caregiver and got the information she had: his estimated age, his size and temperament with other dogs, and his house training.   I found out that Travis would be neutered on Tuesday and available for adoption the following Saturday.  I was at the Petsmart that Saturday to meet  him as soon as they were setup.  And I took Travis home with me that day.

Travis is now called Beauregard (Beau for short).  It didn’t take him long to make himself at home with our other fur-babies.  His eye is healed and after a few visits with the vet, he’s up to date on all of his shots and worm free.  He has a tag with his name and my phone number on it as well as a microchip, so he cannot be lost.  He is a little ball of energy.  He rolls and plays with the other dogs.  Every morning, after his potty break outside, he comes back to my room to find me.  I can hear his tags tinkling together as he runs down the hall and comes and lays at my feet.  When I call his name, he rolls over and wiggles in anticipation of the belly rub he’s about to receive.  I pick him up and cuddle him and get my morning kisses and then he’s off to breakfast.

Beau reminds me how I should react to time with my Father.  I was saved from death by the blood of my Savior.  He has taken care of me and prepared me for life in this harsh world.  It is through God’s loving care that I have survived the grievous events in my life.  I allow the world to suck the very life out of me.  I struggle to see where I am headed. But, I don’t always go to my loving Father with excitement, anticipating His loving attention.  Many times, I’m distracted by other “things” in my life.  I don’t have time or I’m sure I can handle this one myself.  I forget to spend time with Him.

But, He comes to my rescue, time and time again.  And I remember His tenderness and His love.  My name is engraved in His book of life.  I will never be out of His sight.  I realize that it is time with my Heavenly Father that I crave.  I spend time in His word.  I pray and listen for His guidance.  And, yes, I beg, plead, cry and complain about all that is “unfair” with my life.  He’s always there to correct me when I’m wrong, to provide for my every need and to always love me.

It took a squirmy, cuddly rescued puppy to remind me that I just have to go to God.  He’s waiting with every thing I can need or imagine.

I’m thanking you, God, from a full heart,
    I’m writing the book on your wonders.
I’m whistling, laughing, and jumping for joy;
    I’m singing your song, High God. 

Psalm 9:1-2 MSG

Unknown's avatar

Forgiveness, Tolerance & Acceptance

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Forgiveness is something we all want and usually expect,  but we often find it difficult to give; especially when it comes to forgiving ourselves.  This verse is one that come to mind when I don’t seem to be getting the forgiveness I think I deserve:

 “In prayer there is a connection between what God does and what you do. You can’t get forgiveness from God, for instance, without also forgiving others. If you refuse to do your part, you cut yourself off from God’s part.”  Matthew 6:14-15 The Message

I don’t like to think about this verse when I am angry and need to forgive, however.  I’ve been told my entire life to “forgive and forget” when I am offended or hurt.  That’s really hard for me to do.  I think I’m good at forgiving, until something new arises and I all those old memories come flooding back.  I don’t always realize that I’m holding a grudge, but it’s there.  Forgiveness is something that I have to work on everyday.  When that old grudge rears its ugly head, I must remind myself that it’s been forgiven and move on into the light of life.

I find that I have a hard time forgiving when the offense is against someone who I love.  If one of my kids or my husband, one of my siblings or my parents are the object of ridicule, unjust criticism, rumor or other attacks either physically or emotionally, I want to punish the person responsible. History has proven that retribution doesn’t always pan out the way I would like, it just leads to more hurt.  And the cycle is repeated over and over and over.

“Don’t hit back; discover beauty in everyone. If you’ve got it in you, get along with everybody. Don’t insist on getting even; that’s not for you to do. “I’ll do the judging,” says God. “I’ll take care of it.”  Our Scriptures tell us that if you see your enemy hungry, go buy that person lunch, or if he’s thirsty, get him a drink. Your generosity will surprise him with goodness. Don’t let evil get the best of you; get the best of evil by doing good.” Romans 12:19-20 The Message

I am learning each day that I must forgive.  Even (especially) when the other person involved is not aware that they need forgiveness.  Words are thrown carelessly around.  We talk about anything and everything without a thought to what those words may mean to the listener.  Hearing another woman wish her husband was gone caused pain to me as a widow.  My children react when they hear others complain about their parents and/or step-parents.  We need to be aware of the audience and be sensitive to others.

We say what we “think” others want to hear.  Unfortunately, social media is used to broadcast our every thought and action.  Inconsistencies are highlighted because of it.  Keeping our stories straight is very difficult these days.  If I say I cannot go to dinner with you because I don’t feel well and then post on social media my night out on the town with someone else, you probably would be hurt.  The trust between us would be broken. And I may never realize there was a problem. What if I go out of my way to help someone and they thank me profusely; then, I find out that they complained about my interference to a mutual friend.  I’m probably not going to help or trust as easily the next time.  And, I must forgive that person and tolerate their inconsistent behaviors.

Tolerance has become a big part of forgiveness for me.  There are things that offend me, that make me angry.  Being angry is hard work.  I don’t tolerate half-truths very well.  My nature is to point out the white lie very loudly.  However, I’ve come to understand that sometimes, people are conditioned to say just enough to get by.  It’s the  way they have survived:  by saying what they perceive is expected of them.  It’s usually not meant as hurtful.  And, I need to learn to be tolerant of the behavior and earn their trust so we don’t have to tell half-truths any longer.

I continue to learn how to tolerate  and to forgive those that need to tear everyone around them down in order to feel bigger.  These are the gossips that grab any shred of information and blow it up to destroy another person’s reputation.  The gossip  may have begun with a shred of truth, but it rarely is accurate.  It’s not meant to tell the truth.  It’s meant to help the teller feel better about their own fallacies.  We have all been victims of rumors and gossip and one time or another.  And, I would venture to say, we have all gossiped as well.  I struggle with forgiving the back-stabbers, the ones that smile to your face and tear you down when you walk away.  But, I’m working on it.

“Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger in the dirt. They kept at him, badgering him. He straightened up and said, “The sinless one among you, go first: Throw the stone.” Bending down again, he wrote some more in the dirt.”  John 8:  The Message

I fear that one of the biggest issues we all encounter is accepting forgiveness.  When we have wronged another, it can be very uncomfortable and maybe even awkward.  It’s hard to ask for or accept any forgiveness.  Sometimes, we don’t believe that we deserve that  forgiveness.  And, I find it especially hard to forgive myself for stupid decisions and mistakes.  I have only to look at the example of Jesus to see how important forgiveness is.  He gave His very life so I could be forgiven.

“If we claim that we’re free of sin, we’re only fooling ourselves. A claim like that is errant nonsense. On the other hand, if we admit our sins—make a clean breast of them—he won’t let us down; he’ll be true to himself. He’ll forgive our sins and purge us of all wrongdoing. If we claim that we’ve never sinned, we out-and-out contradict God—make a liar out of him. A claim like that only shows off our ignorance of God.”  1 John 1:8-10  The Message

So, why do I find it so hard to give or accept forgiveness?  Why do I continue to hurt others with my words and actions?  Why do I gossip?  What makes me better than anyone else?  Each day, I decide anew to be the more like Christ in my actions and deeds.  I strive daily to do my best to forgive any wrongs of others, to be tolerant of those that just don’t “get it” and to accept the forgiveness I am given.  It’s hard.  I fail. I try again.  God continues to work on me.  What about you?