“Blueberry Blessings” “Anxiety and Abiding” Those are the titles I came up with as crafted these blogs in my head. When I began this blog, I decided a realistic expectation would be posting monthly. But since time marches on even when I fall out of step, and since I am my own “drum major,” I decided I could conduct myself any way I desired, and blog only when needed. I forgot to listen to the cadence of the Holy Spirit, who was telling me to “just do it.” So I shake off the guilt and tell myself “Ain’t nothin’ to it but to do it.” I shake off the metaphors, realize that God is beyond what I can describe, and I just listen…I hear him say “It’s okay, you don’t have to let others into your mind now,” and again when he says “Now’s the time.” So I begin my therapeutic reflection.
Blueberry Blessings. All I can remember about the day that I thought of this title is that it was late summer, school was about to start, and in a rush in my kitchen I spilled a carton of fresh blueberries on the floor in front of the fridge. At that moment, I realized that I could either curse and throw them all away, or gather them up with the dirt and dog hair that seems to be plentiful in my house, and put them back in the fridge with a promise to wash them thoroughly before serving them. That is what I did, but my blue-eyed blueberry lover of a son beat me to it and ate them right out of the carton. He lesson I remembered – focus on the blessings, and try not to let the dog hair get you down.
And now it’s the time to reflect on “Anxiety and Abiding”
So I’ll start with defining my terms. Anxiety in its current usage today definitely has a negative connotation. When I think about the definition of anxiety, I think of worry with a capital A, which moves it to the front of the alphabet. Worry and nagging fears annoy, but anxiety has the taste of some kind of official diagnosis. It’s almost as if worry takes up residence and decides to stay. One of the definitions that came up when I googled the term was “a multi-symptom response to a perceived threat or danger” (can’t cite my source, oh well).
But being anxious about something can also be good, as in “I’m anxious to get started, let’s go!” I can even put both of them in the same sentence – I’m anxious to get to heaven, but if I’m not careful, my Anxiety will get me there faster.
Answers .com, the world’s leaning Q & A site defines “abiding” as follows:
adj. Lasting for a long time; enduring: an abiding love of music.
N. noun form “abode”, as in “my humble abode” to dwell
v., a·bode (ə-bōd'), or a·bid·ed, a·bid·ing, a·bides.
v.tr.
1. To wait patiently for: "I will abide the coming of my lord" (Tennyson).
2. To withstand: a thermoplastic that will abide rough use and great heat.
v.intr.
1. To remain in a place.
2. To continue to be sure or firm; endure.
3. To dwell or sojourn.
idiom: abide by
To conform to; comply with: abide by the rules; had to abide by the judge's decision
One of my favorite hymns comes to mind - “Abide with Me Fast Falls the Eventide.” Is a prayer for the Lord to abide with me, in verse 2 especially – “I need thy presence every passing hour, What but thy grace can foil the tempter’s power?” Here is the powerful truth - God’s grace is the antidote to the lies that sneaky little voice in our heads that says, “you’ll never get there, your goals are like lofty dreams – like clouds blown away…” And Grace answers with the truth, “It’s okay, yes I gave you dreams, and parts of them may blow away, but what I want to keep, I’ll keep, for I made the wind, and I made you too, and the essence of you – the beautiful soul that is my masterpiece, that I love, I preserve, and I will abide there. I am sure and firm, I endure. I have made your heart my dwelling place, now come home – to that place in your heart, and abide in me. Be sure of me, waiting patiently for my plan to unfold, and abide by the law, and as you seek to hear my voice first, and do not despise preaching or his word, honor others, worship me, and you will see that I am there too – shining through and covering you with Grace to not fear failure but I will allow you to excel in my name.”
I’m not sure if God speaks in such long run-on sentences, but I have a feeling it doesn’t bother him to do so.
Life in Laura's Mind
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
Goals, Addictions and Grace
STUPID!!! I can’t log in to my blogger account, too many stinkin’ passwords to remember (didn’t want anyone impersonating me, so I made up a REALLY secure password, … DUH!) And Facebook – well you think I could find the wall post where I listed my web address? Not without looking at flair, putting birthdays on my virtual calendar and being goaded into taking a ridiculous IQ test because 4 people in my town think I’m STUPID! Well, tell me something I didn’t know!
Ok, so now that I got all of my acceptable expletives and self-depreciating humor out of my system, on to the real business of blogging…
The book, The Last Addiction, Why Self Help is Not Enough, by psychologist Sharon A. Hearsh has deeply affected my thinking in the past few weeks. Hearsh writes:
“What keeps those who struggle with addiction in a prison of negativity, self-hatred, and alienation from others? It’s the last addiction, a belief that I must somehow be good enough and an honest realization that no matter how hard I try, I can’t do it. When these two beliefs stand alone - I must do it and I can’t do it -the natural response is self-contempt...The sense of being forgiven - forgiven for my failures, my foolish attempts, my lifelong strategies of being in control - does not result from my effort. That’s the last addiction. It comes only from openness.”
Hence, my blog – a relatively safe place to reveal the thoughts and struggles in my mind and soul, to admit my weaknesses and even laugh at blunders. Allowing myself to put myself down reveals that self-contempt I feel when I mess up. The openness I allow myself in this blog is my attempt to defeat the “last addiction.” And I see now that the only antidote to that tireless monster is Grace. I need it, at times desperately. Only whe I see my desperate need for help, does the Holy Spirit nudges herself gently into my consciousness, softly and gently reminding me of lessons I’ve learned before (John 14:26). And so I see, with serendipitous clarity, how the Father’s love cascades down on me, cleansing and refreshing me. And I see how Jesus, our brother, longed to gather me as a hen her chicks, and when I wasn’t willing, he still sacrificed Himself for me.
And so, even though I haven’t met my goal of completing a short blog before midnight, I have begun the process, trying to be faithful, and praising God for the epiphany I’ve experienced in the trying – namely that it’s not about me, but about that beautiful 3-in-1 being we call Abba, Lord & Savior, and Holy and Mysterious Counselor…. Prince of Peace, King of Kings, Alpha and Omega, Immanuel – God with us, Jehovah Jiarah, Adonai, … Goodnight… You ARE The Man!
Hearsh, Sharon A., The Last Addiction, Why Self Help is Not Enough (Colorado Springs, CO: Waterbrook Press, 2008), p. 122.
Ok, so now that I got all of my acceptable expletives and self-depreciating humor out of my system, on to the real business of blogging…
The book, The Last Addiction, Why Self Help is Not Enough, by psychologist Sharon A. Hearsh has deeply affected my thinking in the past few weeks. Hearsh writes:
“What keeps those who struggle with addiction in a prison of negativity, self-hatred, and alienation from others? It’s the last addiction, a belief that I must somehow be good enough and an honest realization that no matter how hard I try, I can’t do it. When these two beliefs stand alone - I must do it and I can’t do it -the natural response is self-contempt...The sense of being forgiven - forgiven for my failures, my foolish attempts, my lifelong strategies of being in control - does not result from my effort. That’s the last addiction. It comes only from openness.”
Hence, my blog – a relatively safe place to reveal the thoughts and struggles in my mind and soul, to admit my weaknesses and even laugh at blunders. Allowing myself to put myself down reveals that self-contempt I feel when I mess up. The openness I allow myself in this blog is my attempt to defeat the “last addiction.” And I see now that the only antidote to that tireless monster is Grace. I need it, at times desperately. Only whe I see my desperate need for help, does the Holy Spirit nudges herself gently into my consciousness, softly and gently reminding me of lessons I’ve learned before (John 14:26). And so I see, with serendipitous clarity, how the Father’s love cascades down on me, cleansing and refreshing me. And I see how Jesus, our brother, longed to gather me as a hen her chicks, and when I wasn’t willing, he still sacrificed Himself for me.
And so, even though I haven’t met my goal of completing a short blog before midnight, I have begun the process, trying to be faithful, and praising God for the epiphany I’ve experienced in the trying – namely that it’s not about me, but about that beautiful 3-in-1 being we call Abba, Lord & Savior, and Holy and Mysterious Counselor…. Prince of Peace, King of Kings, Alpha and Omega, Immanuel – God with us, Jehovah Jiarah, Adonai, … Goodnight… You ARE The Man!
Hearsh, Sharon A., The Last Addiction, Why Self Help is Not Enough (Colorado Springs, CO: Waterbrook Press, 2008), p. 122.
Monday, May 4, 2009
hobbling along
So, here I am again, with my cup of sleepytime tea and thoughts coursing through my head that need to "disentangle themselves over the lips and through the fingertips" (that's from Chuck Swindoll, but I think he was quoting someone else). First, a reading/listening list:
- Phillip Yancy, What's So Amazing About Grace, the chapter on how to enjoy grace without abusing it.
- The Last Addiction, author's name and subtitle will be added @ a future post
- Steve Brown's teaching this week on prayer in his current series Welcome to the Family
And a few words about me and the issue of "best friends." As I was growing up in rural SE Pennsylvania, it was my fervent prayer that a family with a girl would move into our neighborhood. Eagle Manor was one of those subdivisions that was developed by a man who had 2 house plans -- almost identical except for the number of bedrooms. About half the lots were developed before he paused to take a breath, and so my brothers and all the other neighborhood kids (mostly boys) would ride their bikes over the "dirt mountains" left by construction crews, while I either tagged along or took the dog for long walks through the cornfields and woods surrounding us. There were 2 girls that were a year or 2 younger than me, and for awhile we played together, the three of us, but when three became a crowd, I was the one who left. The upside was that I had little competition when it came to babysitting jobs, the downside is that I learned to be more comfortable with books and my diaries than with girls my age.
When I went to the consolidated jr. high, I expanded my circle of friend to girls who lived further away, but somehow seemed to be the 3rd person out again. The summer between my 8th and 9th grade year, my Mom grew tired of my feelings getting repeatedly hurt, and counselled me strongly to reach out and find new friends. I took her advice and read every article I could find in Seventeen magazine about how to start conversations and meet new people. On the first day of 9th grade, God put 2 new friends in my path, and gave me the courage to talk to them after we got dressed in our hideous PE uniforms. Those years of late jr. high and earlyHS forged strong friendships that still survive to this day. Somewhere in my Sr. year, after we had moved to a small NW Ohio town, I realized that the ups and downs of relationships can destry your equilibrium if you let it. I decided not to let my day be destroyed if someone did or didn't say hi to me, sit by me, or wait for me between classes. I began to seek and find the contentment that comes from knowing the deep abiding love of God.
Fast Forward 20-odd years to my days of teaching preschool, and I hear "Are you my best friend?" "No S--- is my best friend." "Teacher, M--- doesn't want to be my best friend!" Exasperated, I make a lesson out of it--"I don't want anybody to say best friend in this classroom. Who is the only person who never does anyting wrong?" As if on cue, they chorus, "JESUS!" "Yes," I say. "He is the BEST friend, and because of that we can ALL be friends."
It seemed so easy when I was standing with a bunch of 4 year olds who seemed to know the answers. But as I try to navigate this complicated world of women's friendships, I sometimes marvel at how hard we make it. Several analogies come to mind -- the dance of friendships, stepping on one another's toes and backing off. Kids these days often talk about their personal space as a "bubble," and the image of blowing bubbles in the summertime comes to mind. Sometimes whole group of bubbles form a clump, and sometimes just a few join together, but with a line of boundary making it obvious that there are two, not one. Sometimes a smaller one attaches to a larger. As I follow this analogy, I think of God breathing his breath into us, and us floating along on our way ... the analogy only takes us so far...
Grace, relationships and other addictions, and our #1 best friend. My prayer these days goes something like this, "Lord, make me want you more than anything else -- more than a morning of sleeping in, more than a the finest chocolate, more than the pats on the back by my collegues, even more than the warm fuzzies I feel when I notice the blessings of working in a Chrstian school. Because, doggone it Lord, these people you've surrounded me with can take the joy right out of serving you. Stink." And again, I hear Him say, "Come, my dear child, and rest with me. Give it up, it's ok. Just want me, and the serving will follow. Just let me fill you to overflowing, and my joy will bubble up and spill over you all. Just let me love you the most, because I know you the best. Let me remind you that though I own the universe, I knit you together, I know your deepest longings, and I find great delight when you open them to me, for I am quite fond of you."
At least that's what I think He says, it sounds like Him. I'm learning to listen.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Udpate
In case you're wondering, Life in my mind still is going on, I just haven't had the discipline to sit down and reflect at the computer. One of the reasons I started this blogging thing is because I heard an interview with Micheal Spencer (aka "The Internet Monk") on Steve Brown Etc. One of the reasons he cited for blogging was that he was frustrated with the publishing process, and wanted to find a place to practice the craft of writing. This encouraged me, eventhough I am just a fledgling writer who is frustrated with the craft itself!!! It takes some real disipline, like most things worth doing, and I'm struggling to find a way to fit it in amid juggling kids' schedules, piles of laundry, plan books for my classes, and taking care of the people I love, including myself.
But if writing is a gift of mine, and blogging is an answer to my prayer to find an outlet and an audience fot it, then what is stopping me? The words from Oswald Chamber classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest hit me right between the eyes today -- from the Feb. 20 devotion, "Dreaming about a thing in order to do it is right, but dreaming about it when we should be doing it is wrong. ... Dreaming after God has spoken is an indication that we do not trust Him."
God has given me the dream -- ever since I was a girl I delighted in reading books, for in them I found a place where I could find companionship. As a pre-teen I began writing as a way to vent my thoughts and feelings. As a teenager I dreamt of seeing my own words in print. During that time, I spent many weekends at my grandparents house. We drove 20-30 minutes down Little Conestoga road, and for about 24 hours I relished the attention I received as the only nearby granddaughter. I found a place where I could escape the near constant teasing and bickering of my four brothers, and enjoy the freedom to sleep in on Saturday mornings (and fix french toast with powdered sugar and syryp!!) In the spare room where I slept on those visits was an antique witing desk, at which I dreamt I would some day write the "Great American Novel." This was, and is, with many "visions and revisions," my dream -- a God-given dream.
So, afer reading Chambers words today, I swallow hard, let everything else wait a moment or two, and sit to blog. What follows may be just ramdom musings, rambling, and seemingly incoherent thoughts, but out of it all, it is my prayer that some insights will emerge.
This spring, my husband and I spent a weekend in Memphis. One of the musicians at a blues cafe described the musical history of Memphis this way (and I paraphrase) -- It's where the poor black south met the poor white south, and the unique blend of rhythm, gospel, blues, and soul music was born. I got to thinking about that, and how I as a middle-class white woman, have grown to appreciate that sort of music, and even became comfortable on Beale Street. A line from Christian Contemporary song by Casting Crowns comes to mind "My Jesus would never be accepted in my church. The blood and dirt on his feet might stain the carpet...He spent his time with thieves and robbers...I think that he'd prefer Beale Street to this stained glass crowd." The freedom that has come from living in God's Grace has allowed me to be comfortable there -- conversing with the belhops and shoe shines in the hotel lobby, smiling and chatting with the housekeeper as she cleaned our hotel room and the cashier who rang me up at the gift shop. How did I get there, and does that make me more Christ-like? Hmmm... I'm not sure how I got there, but I think it has something to do with giving up the persona that I'm a middle-class white woman who efficiently administers the daily tasks for a family of six, and still takes the time to work-out, fix homemade meals, keep a spotless house, carefully preserve all those childish art projects, bring home a healthy paycheck, and do it all with a smile. I totally give it up!!! I can't fake it anymore, and most of the time I don't even try. I refuse to live with the guilt and shame that I don't measure up. Maybe I have friends in low places because I have been in low places.
Wow. Now if I left it there, you wouldn't believe me, or maybe you'd at least wonder. "What could she possibly have done?" I won't go into that now, but I'll just end with a quote from Steve Brown of Keylife Ministries (www.keylife.org) --"The only people that ever get any better are the people that realize that if they NEVER get any better, God will still love them." Now isn't that a relief? The pressure is off. God's love is not performance based. He uses us despite our weakness, and sometimes even because of them, because then His strength takes over.
So, GO GOD -- this girl is done for now.
But if writing is a gift of mine, and blogging is an answer to my prayer to find an outlet and an audience fot it, then what is stopping me? The words from Oswald Chamber classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest hit me right between the eyes today -- from the Feb. 20 devotion, "Dreaming about a thing in order to do it is right, but dreaming about it when we should be doing it is wrong. ... Dreaming after God has spoken is an indication that we do not trust Him."
God has given me the dream -- ever since I was a girl I delighted in reading books, for in them I found a place where I could find companionship. As a pre-teen I began writing as a way to vent my thoughts and feelings. As a teenager I dreamt of seeing my own words in print. During that time, I spent many weekends at my grandparents house. We drove 20-30 minutes down Little Conestoga road, and for about 24 hours I relished the attention I received as the only nearby granddaughter. I found a place where I could escape the near constant teasing and bickering of my four brothers, and enjoy the freedom to sleep in on Saturday mornings (and fix french toast with powdered sugar and syryp!!) In the spare room where I slept on those visits was an antique witing desk, at which I dreamt I would some day write the "Great American Novel." This was, and is, with many "visions and revisions," my dream -- a God-given dream.
So, afer reading Chambers words today, I swallow hard, let everything else wait a moment or two, and sit to blog. What follows may be just ramdom musings, rambling, and seemingly incoherent thoughts, but out of it all, it is my prayer that some insights will emerge.
This spring, my husband and I spent a weekend in Memphis. One of the musicians at a blues cafe described the musical history of Memphis this way (and I paraphrase) -- It's where the poor black south met the poor white south, and the unique blend of rhythm, gospel, blues, and soul music was born. I got to thinking about that, and how I as a middle-class white woman, have grown to appreciate that sort of music, and even became comfortable on Beale Street. A line from Christian Contemporary song by Casting Crowns comes to mind "My Jesus would never be accepted in my church. The blood and dirt on his feet might stain the carpet...He spent his time with thieves and robbers...I think that he'd prefer Beale Street to this stained glass crowd." The freedom that has come from living in God's Grace has allowed me to be comfortable there -- conversing with the belhops and shoe shines in the hotel lobby, smiling and chatting with the housekeeper as she cleaned our hotel room and the cashier who rang me up at the gift shop. How did I get there, and does that make me more Christ-like? Hmmm... I'm not sure how I got there, but I think it has something to do with giving up the persona that I'm a middle-class white woman who efficiently administers the daily tasks for a family of six, and still takes the time to work-out, fix homemade meals, keep a spotless house, carefully preserve all those childish art projects, bring home a healthy paycheck, and do it all with a smile. I totally give it up!!! I can't fake it anymore, and most of the time I don't even try. I refuse to live with the guilt and shame that I don't measure up. Maybe I have friends in low places because I have been in low places.
Wow. Now if I left it there, you wouldn't believe me, or maybe you'd at least wonder. "What could she possibly have done?" I won't go into that now, but I'll just end with a quote from Steve Brown of Keylife Ministries (www.keylife.org) --"The only people that ever get any better are the people that realize that if they NEVER get any better, God will still love them." Now isn't that a relief? The pressure is off. God's love is not performance based. He uses us despite our weakness, and sometimes even because of them, because then His strength takes over.
So, GO GOD -- this girl is done for now.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Ok, so I'm lying in bed, dead dog tired, but mind working on how to improve my organizational system in the laundry room and therby declutter my kitchen table and impress visiting relatives, and I realize that if I don't do something else I will make myself crazy. So back to the theme of GRACE-
I just want to say how wonderful it is to be focusing on Grace this time of year. Our church has made that the theme for this Lenten season, and I find it wonderfully refreshing when I'm used to focusing on how I am a poor miserable sinner in need of Christ's gruesome death (boy I really must be stinkin' rotten, ... but hey, at least not as bad as so and so, that's why I'm giving up sweets). Of course I am a stinkin miserabe rotten sinner, and I have felt it in the past weeks -- in the form of nagging screaming wife and teacher, half-a___ed co-worker, cheating dieter, binger, sleepy whining childish wimp ... you get the idea. That is a harsh and honest assessment, and definitely not the whole picture either. I'm not just being humble about that. When someone else lovingly pointed out how miserable I was, I got even madder and self-pitying -- how dare she say that, how insensitive! Can you believe she actually said that?! It took another person to point it out before it finally hit me between the eyes -- it's not about me -- GET OVER YOURSELF! But how?? How can I talk myself out of this funk when as soon as I do, someone else does something inconsiderate and I lose it again? Surely I am beyond help. C'mon, Lord, is this really how you want me?!
I hear the deep rumbling clearing of his throat. Uh, yeah.
You've GOT to be kidding, Lord, I am so completly helpless!
The deep voice softens, My child, I know, come sit with me for a bit. There now. Remember when...
And slowly I open myself the the gentle whispering of the Spirit when He reminds me of what He taught me before (John 14:6). His love really is unconditional, and we can't do anything to make him proud or disappoint him. He accomplishes his work through us, but that's not nearly as important as the work he accomplishes IN us, especially when we wear ourselves out trying to do his work for him.
Maybe that's the most profound lesson of all. Lord, get ME out of the way, and please show me how you can work.
But I've found I can't really remove myself from the picture until I am assured that I really am taken care of. How can I be an agent of God's Grace when I don't feel I receive it from those around me? But here is the key-- the QBQ (question behind the question) -- What can I do right now to improve this situation? Answer -- soak it up from God's word, and then JUST DO IT. I read a chapter of Yancy's What's so Amazing About Grace and really soaked in those truths. Then by God's grace, I did it. I stood in the middle of the kitchen floor the next morning while the family was getting ready and announced in my military-mom voice, "I just want everyone in this room to know that I love them." Then I tackle hugged the closest child, which just happened to be the teen I had most recently screamed at the night before. My family members probably thought I was crazy, obnoxious, or both. At school I declared the day a "hug day," and it was wonderful to give and receive hugs from students and co-workers (I got pig-piled by the PK/K class!).
No magic formula -- life was still stressful, others were still inconsiderate, and I still had to ask forgiveness and give it. But I've realized it's all about looking for the QBQ, and finding the answer in Christ's obnoxiously extravagant Grace. I received it again at the Lord's Table tonight in the most touching communion time I've had in maybe 20 years. While the congregation sang Just as I am I raised my voice with them, and wanted to shout AMEN when we said the post-communion canticle ...for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared before the face of all people, ... glory be to the Father, and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end. AMEN!!!
It's impossible to re-capture the feeling of that moment, but it is my prayer that I will feel that again soon. Nevertheless, it's not about feeling, but about truth. By the miracle of his Spirit, I caught a fuller glimpse of His love. I will pray that I will not doubt in the dark what He's taught me in this light.
I just want to say how wonderful it is to be focusing on Grace this time of year. Our church has made that the theme for this Lenten season, and I find it wonderfully refreshing when I'm used to focusing on how I am a poor miserable sinner in need of Christ's gruesome death (boy I really must be stinkin' rotten, ... but hey, at least not as bad as so and so, that's why I'm giving up sweets). Of course I am a stinkin miserabe rotten sinner, and I have felt it in the past weeks -- in the form of nagging screaming wife and teacher, half-a___ed co-worker, cheating dieter, binger, sleepy whining childish wimp ... you get the idea. That is a harsh and honest assessment, and definitely not the whole picture either. I'm not just being humble about that. When someone else lovingly pointed out how miserable I was, I got even madder and self-pitying -- how dare she say that, how insensitive! Can you believe she actually said that?! It took another person to point it out before it finally hit me between the eyes -- it's not about me -- GET OVER YOURSELF! But how?? How can I talk myself out of this funk when as soon as I do, someone else does something inconsiderate and I lose it again? Surely I am beyond help. C'mon, Lord, is this really how you want me?!
I hear the deep rumbling clearing of his throat. Uh, yeah.
You've GOT to be kidding, Lord, I am so completly helpless!
The deep voice softens, My child, I know, come sit with me for a bit. There now. Remember when...
And slowly I open myself the the gentle whispering of the Spirit when He reminds me of what He taught me before (John 14:6). His love really is unconditional, and we can't do anything to make him proud or disappoint him. He accomplishes his work through us, but that's not nearly as important as the work he accomplishes IN us, especially when we wear ourselves out trying to do his work for him.
Maybe that's the most profound lesson of all. Lord, get ME out of the way, and please show me how you can work.
But I've found I can't really remove myself from the picture until I am assured that I really am taken care of. How can I be an agent of God's Grace when I don't feel I receive it from those around me? But here is the key-- the QBQ (question behind the question) -- What can I do right now to improve this situation? Answer -- soak it up from God's word, and then JUST DO IT. I read a chapter of Yancy's What's so Amazing About Grace and really soaked in those truths. Then by God's grace, I did it. I stood in the middle of the kitchen floor the next morning while the family was getting ready and announced in my military-mom voice, "I just want everyone in this room to know that I love them." Then I tackle hugged the closest child, which just happened to be the teen I had most recently screamed at the night before. My family members probably thought I was crazy, obnoxious, or both. At school I declared the day a "hug day," and it was wonderful to give and receive hugs from students and co-workers (I got pig-piled by the PK/K class!).
No magic formula -- life was still stressful, others were still inconsiderate, and I still had to ask forgiveness and give it. But I've realized it's all about looking for the QBQ, and finding the answer in Christ's obnoxiously extravagant Grace. I received it again at the Lord's Table tonight in the most touching communion time I've had in maybe 20 years. While the congregation sang Just as I am I raised my voice with them, and wanted to shout AMEN when we said the post-communion canticle ...for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared before the face of all people, ... glory be to the Father, and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end. AMEN!!!
It's impossible to re-capture the feeling of that moment, but it is my prayer that I will feel that again soon. Nevertheless, it's not about feeling, but about truth. By the miracle of his Spirit, I caught a fuller glimpse of His love. I will pray that I will not doubt in the dark what He's taught me in this light.
Day 1 ... cont'd
Here I am again! I knew treading on the waters of technology could be dangerous! I started this post desribing what I expect the topics will be, and then tried to see if I could change my blog's title to something more about my faith journey -- "Life on the road with Laura" -- no, too much life a band tour. "Inside Laura's Faith walk" -- no alliterative flair ... so lacking and brilliant idea or the tech-know-how to change it, it stays "Life in Laura's Mind," with a probable emphasis on working through issues of faith as it applies to my life. I start again, after failing to retrieve and edit my first post ...
The deep booming voice of Dr. Walter Keller is resounding in my mind... when he was the liturgist for services at the Chapel of the Ressureection @ VU, he would interrupt the time of Confession with the words of Hebrews 1:1: "In many and various ways, God spoke to his people of old through the prophets, (and the congregation would respond) but now in these last days, he has spoken to us through his Son." I have found that Jesus speaks through just as many and various ways -- early morning musings, tearful prayers, soft spoken words among friends, books from wise Christians who've gone before, snippets of sermons and radios broadcasts, song lyrics, and on that rare but treasured occasion, bits of dreams that cling to the underside of my mind for days following...like this one :
This morning I woke from an image of a large family room style kitchen area, where members of my past and present church family were gathering for coffee hour. I've been daydreaming about a new kitchen, and the colors of this new church space were just that -- bright, cheerful yellow, crisp white, clear aqua blue -- surrounded by groupings of comfortable furniture where people lounged an chatted. In this dream, I was designing a logo for this new space in my head, and as I was thinking, someon spoke -- We need to have a name for this place -- and someone else suggested the very name I was considering -- "the Free Cafe" the verse below referencing our Freedom in Christ. It was a plae of Grace, where hanging your feet over the edge of the furniture is ok, and eating in the living room is allowed. Someone was insisting that we should NOT cut the whole donuts in half, but allow the children to eat a whole one. I started to scold my children as I saw their mouths full of powdered jelly filled pasteries. Someone commented that we'll never get the people to move from here to Bible study, and then suggested we just hold our small groups there. As I woke, I began to flesh out this idea -- the Free Cafe -- can there really be a place like that? What would it really be like? People's cast off furniture that could tolerate a coffee or juice spill? No, that's not the look I'm going for ... warm chocolate brown leather couches with end tables... a tiled area around the open bar, bar stools and round tables for 2-3, end tables, a plant or two, accent lamps, ottomans ... in the middle but off to the side a little a free standing fire place like @ Panera, with devotion readings and a stray comic or two scattered on the hearth, at the far end a small stage with a keyboard and stool for an acoustic guitar, for community coffee houses or for leading worship ... on the other end an open kitchen with a large island, cupboards underneath with labels, where no one will be removed from the action while serving, a counter where heart to heart talks can talk place like they do in many a bar, here with a different focus...finally glass ways on one side, where the whole world walking by can see that THIS IS THE PLACE TO BE.
Here I am again! I knew treading on the waters of technology could be dangerous! I started this post desribing what I expect the topics will be, and then tried to see if I could change my blog's title to something more about my faith journey -- "Life on the road with Laura" -- no, too much life a band tour. "Inside Laura's Faith walk" -- no alliterative flair ... so lacking and brilliant idea or the tech-know-how to change it, it stays "Life in Laura's Mind," with a probable emphasis on working through issues of faith as it applies to my life. I start again, after failing to retrieve and edit my first post ...
The deep booming voice of Dr. Walter Keller is resounding in my mind... when he was the liturgist for services at the Chapel of the Ressureection @ VU, he would interrupt the time of Confession with the words of Hebrews 1:1: "In many and various ways, God spoke to his people of old through the prophets, (and the congregation would respond) but now in these last days, he has spoken to us through his Son." I have found that Jesus speaks through just as many and various ways -- early morning musings, tearful prayers, soft spoken words among friends, books from wise Christians who've gone before, snippets of sermons and radios broadcasts, song lyrics, and on that rare but treasured occasion, bits of dreams that cling to the underside of my mind for days following...like this one :
This morning I woke from an image of a large family room style kitchen area, where members of my past and present church family were gathering for coffee hour. I've been daydreaming about a new kitchen, and the colors of this new church space were just that -- bright, cheerful yellow, crisp white, clear aqua blue -- surrounded by groupings of comfortable furniture where people lounged an chatted. In this dream, I was designing a logo for this new space in my head, and as I was thinking, someon spoke -- We need to have a name for this place -- and someone else suggested the very name I was considering -- "the Free Cafe" the verse below referencing our Freedom in Christ. It was a plae of Grace, where hanging your feet over the edge of the furniture is ok, and eating in the living room is allowed. Someone was insisting that we should NOT cut the whole donuts in half, but allow the children to eat a whole one. I started to scold my children as I saw their mouths full of powdered jelly filled pasteries. Someone commented that we'll never get the people to move from here to Bible study, and then suggested we just hold our small groups there. As I woke, I began to flesh out this idea -- the Free Cafe -- can there really be a place like that? What would it really be like? People's cast off furniture that could tolerate a coffee or juice spill? No, that's not the look I'm going for ... warm chocolate brown leather couches with end tables... a tiled area around the open bar, bar stools and round tables for 2-3, end tables, a plant or two, accent lamps, ottomans ... in the middle but off to the side a little a free standing fire place like @ Panera, with devotion readings and a stray comic or two scattered on the hearth, at the far end a small stage with a keyboard and stool for an acoustic guitar, for community coffee houses or for leading worship ... on the other end an open kitchen with a large island, cupboards underneath with labels, where no one will be removed from the action while serving, a counter where heart to heart talks can talk place like they do in many a bar, here with a different focus...finally glass ways on one side, where the whole world walking by can see that THIS IS THE PLACE TO BE.
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