Priebe Post-Christmas Post 2015

 The task of decorating for Christmas changes each year.  As kids leave and get busy with their schedules, my motivation seemed to leave with them.  I had to make myself begin sorting through the incredible mismatch of ornaments. 

Before me I saw the styrofoam snowball covered in glitter, and noticed what looked like tiny teeth marks - a little critter must have made his way inside the bin in the basement. Contrast that with what I saw next - the cut glass Waterford ornament depicting Mary and Joseph. I was almost ready to pack it all in, overwhelmed with the pressure of making Christmas just right. 

As I blinked back tears, the thought occurred to me - how much of our life is a mismatched juxtaposition of our messy efforts and the finest and most beautiful? Who's to say which is more valuable?  The macaroni ornaments with nibbles from mice tell a story just as much as the crystal. 

We have a tendency to put the best and most beautiful forward.  I do it too – just remembering past Christmas letters and Facebook posts convicts me.  But if it weren’t for the messiness of life – the struggles and our attempts to make it right - we wouldn’t have a need for a Savior to come at all.  And though we like to think the soft glow around the holy family gathered in the manger, I’m sure it wasn’t all that great. 

So, I’m not ashamed of our mismatched collection of ornaments. I hung the tattered ornaments on the tree, alongside the fine art ornaments, and then packed them away neatly so I could do it again next year. 

Even in January, it’s important to remember that He took on our messy humanity to bring us to His glory. 

So as I look back on 2014, I see highlights, and struggles.  I won’t detail the struggles; it’s just not polite. But know that Jesus takes them – ours and yours – and weaves them into something greater. That’s the beauty of Christmas, and that beauty is with us throughout the year.

Tension Tamer Morning

This isn't snow; it's hail. It's little balls of ice, layers upon layers of frozen condensate, each layer representing a trip through the stratosphere high above the earth. And behind the gathering of hail is a sugar baby watermelon waiting to be harvested. Underneath the rich green rind, we hope to find bright red flesh, sweet with summer goodness.

I love the juxtaposition that this morning brings - the heavy blanket of gray clouds against the brilliant gold of the leaves, the hurried irritation of the search for clean clothes against the hopeful truth of the music on the radio. As I sit sipping my "tension tamer" tea (a great blend by Celestial Seasonings), I consider the ever present tension of our world - the unsettling reality of grief & suffering against the calm, confident joy of the unseen victorious one.

Though the day came before I was ready, & I longed to cuddle deeper into my cozy covers, I am grateful that God granted me this glimpse of the eternal.

You Are How You Look...Or Are You?

I spent much of the past 3 days in warm sweats and fuzzy socks. The fireplace drew me like a magnet, and the easy chair had a great view of the television. Even though my laptop was charged, I spent much more time playing Words with Friends than planning lessons or developing our new literacy program. I just wasn't feeling terribly productive.
               I did venture out into the cold on Tuesday. Though school was still closed, I dressed in warm work clothes and headed to the library. I made my list and got down to business. It amazed me how much of a difference a change of scenery and attire affected my productivity.

It can also work the other way for me. There are times when I feel and act pretty confident, and then I look in the mirror. My hair is flat, my complexion is uneven, my eye make-up smeared. It's a shocking reality check. What was I thinking acting like I was "with-it" when actually I look like this?!
              I've been on FaceTime and Skype a handful of times. Every time it shocks me how uncomfortable I feel when I see myself as the caller sees me.  Even though I look in the mirror every day without flinching, something about a camera just brings out the worst.  Inevitably I have to quickly finger comb my hair and adjust the phone or computer to reflect the best vantage point.

I heard a story the other day about a young entrepreneur in Mogadishu.    There was no dry-cleaner in that city, and anyone who wanted to get anything dry cleaned would have to fly to the nearest city with a dry-cleaner.  Once he opened his dry-cleaning business, people were wearing suits again.  It made a difference.

Dress codes in schools and at work…Uniforms...The clothes make the man.  What we wear affects the way we feel about ourselves.  Buying bathing suits is a least favorite chore for most women, because, as my friend says, “Women over 40 just look better with clothes on.”  Our culture affirms that appearance is important.

 What you wear is much easier to change than how you look, but even that is possible. Plastic surgery and airbrushing are commonplace. We recently had a family portrait taken, and we gladly paid the extra cost for retouching – “to soften lines, even skin tone, and remove blemishes.”

I read an interview this week with Mireille Guiliana, author of French Women Don’t Get Facelifts (click here to read the interview). Her one sentence description of this book is “Aging with Style and Attitude.”  There is something to be said about embracing your age and the natural changes that come with each stage of life. 

That's how the woman discussed in Proverbs chapter 31 lives; “She is clothed in strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come”(Prov. 31:25). Her confidence comes not from the clothes she wears, but from the Lord.  She is not worried about the future or what she look like, much less her laugh lines.

Though I want to be thinner, I want more to be confident in my standing as a daughter of the King.  I want to be like her. 

2014

It's a new year, with new possibilities.

The cynic says, "Resolutions don't change you.  You'll never change.  Your resolution will last a month if you're lucky."

But hope wins out today, and I resolve to post regularly (realism keeps me from saying weekly, but that is my aim.)

I plan on posting a question on Facebook, then a few days later, sharing my thoughts on the topic.

The post I just completed addressed the question, "What do you imagine in the expression on God's face when He looks at you?"

Enjoy!

Longing

“She’s got a way about her…” Billy Joel’s smooth voice floated through the car. (Click here for a video)  I was with a girlfriend and we were headed to work.  I spoke my thoughts, “Wouldn't it be something to have a man say that about you?”

There are other songs that floated through my head as I thought about that – the Beatles' classic, “Something,” (click here to listen and view the lyrics) and James Taylor’s “Something in the Way She Moves.” (here's a recent performance of this song) Men singing longingly, describing some ethereal quality about a woman that makes them whole, completes them. I want that quality, and though I know it’s unhealthy (and somewhat creepy) for someone to say they can’t live without you, I want a man to yearn for me like that.

There are things about Hollywood’s version of love that set us up for disappointment.  The image of finding your soul mate, completing each other’s sentences and walking off into the sunset is missing the reality of the little irritations that go along with sharing a life together, much less the gaping wounds that two people can inflict on one another.

And yet, I don’t think Hollywood was the original author of this image of perfect love.  It began in the Garden of Eden, when God say that it wasn't good for man to be alone, and he made a helper that was "just right for him"(Gen. 2:18b, NLT).   When Adam saw his specially created just right for him bride, he exclaimed, 

“At last! This one is bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh!  She will be called woman, because she was taken from man” (Gen. 2:23, NLT).

This must be the model from which the on-line dating services try so hard to imitate…the original definition of “Soul Mate.”

So, we have the template, we have the ideal in our heads, and we yearn for it, write songs about it, and when something goes wrong in a relationship we thought was so right, we lament, “I guess s/he wasn't THE ONE.”

We know the reason.  The Garden of Eden is no more, as dirty thing called SIN entered the picture, and thus we have need for a Savior. 

But we don’t like to admit our need.  In our American glorification of independence and autonomy, we like to think we can make it alone. There are songs about that too.  Think Simon and Garfunkel, “I am a Rock, I am an Island.”   After being hurt, we shore up our defenses and declare ourselves sufficient unto ourselves.

Now what does God think of this?  My question for the week was “What do you imagine is the expression on God’s face when He looks at you?” I like to think that He looks at me with loving longing, yearning for me to come to Him for completion.

Because He is the one who completes me.  He has no desperate need for me, just love. And though he provided me with one who is “just right for me,” He is the one who mends those riffs between man and woman, filling in the empty spaces left when the puzzle pieces of two lives don’t exactly fit.

And so I look to Him.

Inertia to Momentum

Ugh.  I feel stuck again.  There is this incredible inertia that is like a magnet holding me down in bed in the morning, or drawing me to food or fiction ...

I can function in this mode -- I am getting to work on time (sometimes barely), and I have managed so far to keep the family's clothes clean... but I have this nagging feeling that God wants more from me than a life in which I am just "functioning."

What has given me hope is a reminder from a new friend that "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms" (Eph 6:12).  My struggle isn't even against my own flesh, though it would seem so.  The struggle is against the Enemy, and there is no way I can fight that battle on my own.  In an ironic turn of truth, self-control is not possible without surrender.

In my word study on self-control, and the old fashioned-sounding synonym "temperance," I found that it was only used 4 times in three verses in the New Testament, and one of those times was in reference to Pauls' behavior.  The other references are Galations 5:22 (the Fruit of the Spirit), and 1 Peter 1:6.  What struck me is a verse later on in 1 Peter - "He that lacketh these things (knowledge, temperance, patience, godliness) is blind and has forgotten that he was purged from his old sins" (1:9).

Boy doesn't that hit the nail on the head.  We HAVE been cleansed, but we so easily forget it!  "As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool repeats his folly" (Prov. 26:11).  That is such a vivid word picture -- maybe if that comes to mind when the alarm goes off, I can run from it like the stinking smelly regurgitated sin it is.

And perhaps that is how inertia is turned into momentum.

Shalom

Shalom (שָׁלוֹם) is a Hebrew and Jewish word meaning peace, Nothing missing, Nothing broken, wellbeing, and complete^{[1] [2] [3]}, and used to mean hello, and goodbye. (http://www.websters-online-dictionary.org)

 I have been captivated by this word, particularly in the way it implies wholeness.  I thought of it while reading David James Duncan’s novel The Brothers K, when Kincaid, the main character, describes his vision of the Kingdom of God.  In the beautiful treeless landscape of heaven there are several pools.  He approaches one, hoping to escape from the group, and he sees a miniature version of the world he is on, including

…a boy who must correspond to- or perhaps even be, me.  He was like me, he was exactly like me. Yet he wasn’t me at all.  There was none of my confusion in him, none of my nervousness, nothing the least bit sad or dull or hesitant.  His features were mine exactly, with a single, all-encompassing difference: they had that indescribable quality – the kingdom quality. He belonged to the world or worlds around him as surely as the greenness belongs to the grass, and the longer I looked at him, the longer we watched each other, the more I felt like a huge sloppy cartoon caricature of the being who the boy in the pool really was. (p. 84)

 I’ve come to believe that the Kingdom of God within each of us contains a version of ourselves with the kingdom quality, and part of our purpose in life is to discover that vision and rise above sloppy earthly caricatures of our kingdom selves.  Before you dismiss this thought as sacrilegious, let me acknowledge that the vision is God inspired, and only with the sure knowledge of God’s unconditional love can we rise above the fear of failure and live boldly as the people we were made to be.

It reminds me also of a truth expressed by Steve Brown, one of my favorite podcasters.  He asserts that almost anything of value is a by-product of something else.  If we search for this vision, we will be miserable.  But if we live our lives in thanksgiving to the God of the universe, we will discover along the way our unique giftedness and calling. 

So as a greeting to you all, I say Shalom, and in that beautiful word I express the confidence that you are more than what I see with these earthly eyes.  Shalom.

Infirmities, Grace and the Strength of Enough

Wow.  I love this site. www.blueletterbible.org .  As I was reading a response from my last post, I took a closer look at 2 Cor. 12:9.  It opened up this verse, and it blew me away.  This is how.

And He said, my GRACE (favor, good will, loving-kindness, the merciful kindness by which God, exerting his holy influence upon souls, turns them to Christ, keeps, strengthens, increases them in Christian faith, knowledge, affection, and kindles them to the exercise of the Christian virtues), is SUFFICIENT (possessing unfailing strength, enough) for thee, for my strength (dynamis -- the word says it all -- power inherent in God the creator) is made complete, fulfilled in my weakness (inability to understand, do, resist or bear).

Let's take just that chunk -  
Grace - not just "God's Riches At Christ's Expense," or an undeserved gift, but so much more! Amazing how that one word encompasses not just God's kindness (as if that were a small thing), but also the influence He has on our souls to turn us to Him, where He will keep and even strengthen us.  

And did you catch that part about ENOUGH?  That isn't the picture of having just the right amount of milk for everyone to have one full glass.  There is strength there -- unfailing strength -- that doesn't just fill a need, it wipes it out!  And though that need may rise up again, though that spot may again become empty, God's GRACE is strong enough to draw us back to Him. 

When I look at this verse and think about my original question of serving even when I feel empty and dry, the answer becomes clear. If I come empty hoping to be filled by the strokes of positive affirmation from others, or even from the satisfaction of expressing a thought well, I will be self-seeking in my service. My emptiness must be filled by Christ and Him alone.  Only there can I find enough.

And God's power being made perfect or complete in our weakness?  Does this imply that in order for God to act in us with all His power, we must allow our weakness to be evident?  It almost sounds as if God's power is NOT complete (in us) if we don't allow for our own weakness. Wow.  Doesn't that turn you on your head.  Doesn't leave room for any posturing, does it?

Therefore I will glory (boast, be happy with or without reason) all the more in my weakness, or my inabilities, that the power of Christ -- dynamis -- may rest -- not just rest, but take up residence -- in me.

So my weaknesses -- my places of emptiness --  shouldn't cause me shame, but they should cause me joy, because THAT'S where I will see God's power -- His DYN-O-MITE power -- the same power that did so many healing miracles -- take possession of the country of my heart. 


I should be glad that I've discovered and admitted to these places of emptiness?!  That's where God's power will go?  I see the image my soul covered with deep crevice of dryness and emptiness, and of water seeking the deepest point...and then a little trickle of water becoming a stream and a mighty rushing wave of immense power  -- power that is a  enough and creative and kind, merciful and gracious, that incredible hydraulic power -- becoming a wild rushing wave pulling us, tossing us and holding us to Himself, and we are embraced in a roaring tidal wave of Love.  That is what fills our emptiness, over and over again.

I am ready, I am desperate to be filled and changed.

This is transformational truth. Most certainly.

If you have a few minutes, take a look at this clip from Youtube -- it's powerful waves set to a song by Gregorian called "Nothing Else Matters."

Generosity and Emptiness

I've found a wonderful new tool to help me understand the Bible better.  It also makes me look smart.  It's www.blueletterbible.org .  There you can look up a verse in any version you want, and then by clicking the little "C" button in the left margin, you can expand that verse to include the Greek (or Hebrew) words that go with the English words.  Click further, and you can see what other verses include the word in question, and how it is translated into English in other contexts.  Fascinating stuff for a word nerd like me.

Of course I found out about this tool from a podcast interview of Keri Wyatt Kent on Midday Connection.  She actually takes a word each week and studies it in this way -- what does the Bible say about the word "afraid," "bless," "burden," or "call"? Click on the following link if you want to read more - http://www.moodyradio.org/brd_ProgramMainPage.aspx?id=73036

The word I'm looking at today is ἁπλότης (haplotēs), which occurs 8 times in 8 verses in the Greek concordance of the NASB. (see, don't I sound brilliant?).  In 2 Cor. 9:11, which is where I started, it is translated as generosity: You will be made rich in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion, and through us your generosity will result in thanksgiving to God. But in 2 Cor. 11:3, it's translated as simplicity: But I am afraid that just as Eve was deceived by the serpent's cunning, your minds may somehow be led astray from [your simplicity and purity of ] devotion to Christ.   The definition of the Greek word is "singleness, simplicity, mental honesty, free from pretense and hypocrisy, sincerity, not self-seeking, openness of heart manifesting itself by generosity."  Wow, that's of lot of meaning packed into one word!

What started me on this path is the question of stewardship.  We just finished up a message series on stewardship at church,  www.messiahgrh,org , and that combined with the prospect of taking on more leadership at church has prompted the following questions - Is it ever appropriate to serve at church to fill a need in yourself?  For example, if I have a need to be recognized and praised for my gifts, is it appropriate to use those gifts in service to the church in order to receive that recognition and praise? 

Intuitively I know what the answer is.  Our service should not be self-seeking.  The definition of generosity above confirms that.  Our service should come from a heart overflowing in thankfulness to God, not from a place of emptiness and need.

But mental honesty also dictates that we do have needs.  I sometimes feel like my needs are gaping holes in my soul.  Can the act of service fill those holes?   How can I even serve when I feel so empty? Or, will riches come back to me if I give even though I feel as if I have nothing?  Can I sow generously in hopes of also reaping generously (2 Cor. 9:6)?

This study took me also to 2 Cor. 9:13 - "Because of the service by which you have proved yourselves, men will praise God for the obedience that accompanies your confession of the gospel of Christ, and for your generosity in sharing with them and with everyone else."  I decided to look up the word "service" in this verse.  It's διακονία diakonia, which is translated also as ministry, in terms of proclaiming and promoting religion, as well a distributing food to the needy, and preparing food.  This word is used to describe what distracts Martha when Jesus visited.  Interestingly enough, this word also describes both what the disciples decided to delegate (the distribution of food), and what they devoted themselves to -- the ministry of the word.  It can both distract and result in thanksgiving.

So, from all this study, do I have any answers?  Not really.  Part of me feels badly when I admit that I have an emptiness in my soul.  There's an accusing voice that says, "And you call yourself a Christian?"  But does that admission disqualify me from service?  Or does it simply indicate that I need to take that feeling of emptiness to God for Him to fill?  And then, can I serve in such a way that admits my weakness and shows others where to go for healing?  I think this is mental honesty, freedom from pretense and hypocrisy, and an openness of heart that I hope will lead to generosity.

Mouse in the Manger

It was summer.
Emotions were as high as the humidity.
I escaped to the underground
to pack away Christmas.

(January was dark that year).

Into the box went 3 Magi,
One with his head dangling
- a super glue repair job too old –
Two donkeys…
I brushed away mouse droppings from the table
as I wrapped them in tissue paper
decades old.

That couldn’t be all, but
on the table all I saw
were Christmas mugs and
wooden Advent calendar puzzles.

There, under the bubble wrap,
were Mary and Joseph
posed in forever adoration
and holy awe.

I pulled it aside, and
There! The smiling babe...
Right between the pine scented candle
and the angel with the broken wing.

I wondered…does our experience of God
–the Christ –
belong under the bubble wrap,

Or is ok for it to be among rodent turds?

I pondered this as I wrapped them up-
to sleep in dark boxes
for half a year.

Laura's Lessons - an introduction

This is a draft of the introduction to a non-fiction work I am planning. The working title is Laura's Lessons - again the alliteration works for me with that title.

The inspiration came from several sources. I love to listen to podcasts, and one of my favorites is Moody's Midday Connection http://www.moodyradio.org/middayconnection.aspx . Jan Silvious is a frequent guest on that talk show, and some time in 2010 I heard an interview with her about her book, Same Life, New Story. http://www.jansilvious.com/ The theme of the book, which I have since purchased, is how changing your perspective on your story, and God's part in writing it, is key to changing your life. A more recent podcast (May 2010) was an interview with therapist Margo Tirado on the topic of what happens when a woman finds her voice. http://margotirado.com/ During that interview she talked about the exercise of with making a sign for yourself - a short description of what you believe about yourself. As you examine those, you learn to replace those statements that we've assumed where true with the real truth of God's word.

So anyway.... that's the back story...it inspired me to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and explore this...I wrote and wrote into the night, several nights over about a week's time. One day while I sat in the dentist's chair I came up with that working title, as well as chapter titles. The reason I use my name in the title is because of the meaning that has become so important to me in my journey. Laura comes from the Greek for laurel, which is what they would use to make a victory wreath to place on the head of a champion. This book is to be about how I came to see myself as victorious. It involves an inspired discipline of seeing myself as "victorious" rather than any one of the variety of nicknames thoughtless people threw at me. It has become a way for me to lift up that laurel crown of victory, and show others how, by God's Grace and inspiration, it can be done.

I wrote several chapters in those nights, many of which refer to things I've already written or scenes I remember but only described with a phrase or two, so obviously they will need to be fleshed out. I am taking to heart the advice of my Literacy League supervisor to not show up at work so often, so as not to spread myself too thin. I will take that personal time to work on these chapters of my life -- finding the lessons, finding my voice -- and God's voice...and sharing it here. I welcome your comments -- either by e-mail or as posted comments (you have to register for an account, but all it requires is an e-mail, I think).

Easter in the Rearview mirror

This is a long overdue posting of a blog I began in late May -- I think it applies just as well now that we're looking at Advent in the distance as it did looking at Easter in the rearview mirror.

This is a quote from a book by Richard Russo called Empire Falls. We hear the story of the declining town of Empire Falls from the point of view of Miles Roby. In this selection, he speaks of a lonely teenage boy who is befriended by his daughter, Tick.

If Jesus had gone away, things in Galilee would have returned to normal, just as her father had promised they would soon in Empire Falls. ..No one could want this boy, this child who had dangled from a laundry bag inside a closet, not to exist. Merely for him not to exist here, because here has proven to be the wrong place. She feels like Jesus' disciples must've felt. They never wanted him crucified, of course, but what a relief it must have been when the stone was rolled across the entrance to the tomb, sealing everything shut so they could go back to being fishermen, which is what they knew how to do, rather than fishers of men, which they didn't. No wonder they didn't recognize him later on the road to Damascus. They didn't want to any more than Tick wants to welcome this poor boy back into their midst. (p. 446-447)

This is not a Christian book, but isn't that a stiking comparison? How would it have felt to be the disciples, to have had your life disrupted for 3 years, and then for it all to turn out so different than you had hoped ("we had hoped that He was the Messiah," they told Jesus)... how they must have wanted to just put the whole confusing thing behind them.

And us? How has Jesus disrupted your life? Don't you sometimes wish you could just live like the rest of the world, and turn away from what He's calling you to? It can be so uncertain, so unsettling, following that voice you think you hear on a way you think you might be called to... toward something you're not sure you can handle...Kind of like that feeling right before your foot touches the ground... most of the time you don't think about it, but there's that time when you forget how many steps there are, and the landing isn't where you expect it to be.

But then I think, "what else is there?" I could go back to living the way I was. It's familiar, so familiar that I can do it in my sleep. I have. I fill the emptiness inside with noise and sensations, then go back to mindlessly living. But I have known another way. I have known the feeling of adventure, and I wake in anticipation of what God will do next. Even if those moments are in the background faraway, there is a knowledge you can't unknow, a knowledge that God will show up, that actually He never left, and He's waiting to show me a better way, bit by bit, and He will walk beside me.

And so I determine to keep listening, to stay awake, to move, to watch and see.

Attitude of Gratitude

I heard a speaker on one of my favorite podcasts talk about gratitude. She said she learned recently that when a person "sits" in that place of gratitude, his brain chemistry actually changes. This change requires more than just a passing thought, but dwelling on those grateful thoughts for an extended time. Not just once a year while gathered around the table with family. Not just as you write the obligatory thank you notes. But instead intentionally recalling all the things that generate gratitude.
Whenever I got to feeling down as a teenager about how things weren't going my way, my Dad used to say, "Count your blessings." Sometimes it would say it in an exasperated voice, because teenage girls caught up in drama can be exasperating, and I know for a fact I was no exception. But other times it would be a more gentle reminder, and it brought to mind his granddad's table prayer, which we recited in part at our table growing up -- "Give us thankful hearts, Our Father, for all these many blessings..." it began. Gratitude was something he was taught, and he passed it down to me, as we hope to pass it on to our children.

That same speaker pointed out that in Old Testament times, the children of Israel were taught through the marking of seasons and festivals to recall all that the Lord had done for them. Psalm 103 is just one of the many scriptural examples of how David encouraged others to "count their blessings," to intentionally turn their thoughts to all the good things the Lord has done - here it is from the New International Version -


Praise the LORD, my soul;
all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
2 Praise the LORD, my soul,
and forget not all his benefits—
3 who forgives all your sins
and heals all your diseases,
4 who redeems your life from the pit
and crowns you with love and compassion,
5 who satisfies your desires with good things
so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.

The LORD works righteousness
and justice for all the oppressed.

7 He made known his ways to Moses,
his deeds to the people of Israel:
8 The LORD is compassionate and gracious,
slow to anger, abounding in love.
9 He will not always accuse,
nor will he harbor his anger forever;
10 he does not treat us as our sins deserve
or repay us according to our iniquities.
11 For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is his love for those who fear him;
12 as far as the east is from the west,
so far has he removed our transgressions from us.

13 As a father has compassion on his children,
so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him;
14 for he knows how we are formed,
he remembers that we are dust.
15 The life of mortals is like grass,
they flourish like a flower of the field;
16 the wind blows over it and it is gone,
and its place remembers it no more.
17 But from everlasting to everlasting
the LORD’s love is with those who fear him,
and his righteousness with their children’s children—
18 with those who keep his covenant
and remember to obey his precepts.

19 The LORD has established his throne in heaven,
and his kingdom rules over all.

20 Praise the LORD, you his angels,
you mighty ones who do his bidding,
who obey his word.
21 Praise the LORD, all his heavenly hosts,
you his servants who do his will.
22 Praise the LORD, all his works
everywhere in his dominion.

Praise the LORD, my soul.

There are so many blessings to ponder in those 22 verses I cannot even begin to comment...but back to that speaker on the podcast -- just think what would happen if we read that psalm and "parked our minds" there for moments everyday? Would our brain chemistry actually change? Would we be less stressed, less likely to snap at people, more likely to smile?

And of course this is the most important question on my mind at my age,

Would my smile lines deepen and become more pronounced than my frown lines?

Spark

"It only takes a spark..." Raise your hand if you remember singing that song at church camps and youth group meetings in the 80's! It takes you back, doesn't it? But remember the refrain -- "that's how it is with God's love, once you've experienced it. You want to sing, it's fresh like spring, you want to pass it on..." That's what I'm tying to remember -- We were made for more than this. I want to remember that buring in my belly that's like fire -- not like the acidy one I feel when I've over eaten, but like the stirring I feel when I'm passionate about something!

I've found that Sparkpeople.com is a good place to find motivation to live a healthy lifestyle, and interact with others who are doing the same. It's free, and it has thousands of members - Check it out -- my sparkpage is href="http://www.sparkpeople.com/mypage.asp?id=LAURALOUPRIEBE">

Come Thou Fount

Last night we attended our Lenten Midweek services. Mostly, I guess I wanted to eat without cooking, I guess, but I also wanted to see my husband and see what the theme "Pause" could do for me. The hymns, oh, the hymns... we've turned away from these hymns to more popular music from Christian radio, but there is something in those hymns that nourishes me in a way the other cannot. Come thou Fount of Ever'y Blessing, verse 3 - "O to grace how great a debtor daily I'm constrained to be. Let thy goodness, like a fetter, bind my wanderingheart to thee. Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love! Here's my heart, o take and seal it; seal it for thy courts above." How that hymn writer way back in the 1700's could put his finger on how I feel right now is a mystery to me. It seems that my experience is common to believers everywhere, at every time. That is a comfort. Can I give my heart to the Lord in worship and then take it back the next day? I want, Lord, for you to indeed seal it, as I know you can, but you do give us the freedom to go our own way. Lord let that way never lead me so far that I cannot run back into your arms.

He Pushes, She Speaks

Ok, so this blog is a low pressure way to practice my craft, but as you can see from the frequency of my posts, I could use a little pressure. I used to think about pressure and creativity as unrelatied -- we can only creat when we're relaxed and peaceful, I thought. But that is not the case -- like a lump of clay on the potters wheel, the pressure is what shapes you. The heat of the fire is what makes the creation lasting and useful. So though I am trying to discipline myself to write more regularly, my discipline can only take me so far... and that's not very far most days. So enter Lysa TerKeurst and her blog, delivered daily to my e-mail. I can picture her at her "sticky farm table" in the early morning hours, searching the scriptures and reflecting on God's word, and thne sharing those reflections with us, her readers. And I am convicted. My table is not a farm table, it's probably sticky more often than not, and it's commonly covered with mail and school papers, catalogs and book, under which my Bible remains unopened, because in the early morning hours I'm trying desperately to grab a few more quiet moments between my warm cozy sheets. The other day I read about the "She Speaks" conference, and the opportunity to win a scholarship to this conference which offers many promises -- Lysa writes, "you will receive the tools and the confidence to answer God’s call on your life. You will learn how to make the most of your messages, the nuts and bolts of speaking, writing, leading and influencing, and have the opportunity to meet with some of today’s top Christian publishers." I don't know if I'm anywhere near ready for that, but I do know that I have within me the need to write... sometimes is a burning desire, and sometimes I try to quench it with other things... but it's still there, and ignoring it is nothing short of disobedience. Obeying that desire and stetching myself is necessary, yeilding to the pressure and going forth into the world with what I have been given -- that is my calling. Dear Lord, enable me hear that call, and to answer with courage and faith.

Comeback

I raced down the steps as the electronic chime rang through the house for the third time -- where is that phone!! The answering machine picked up by the time I reached the family room, and my long distance friend was finishing up her message. Ah-ha! I grabbed it. "I'm here! I'm here!" I hollered into the receiver. Silence. Aw, man!Now I would have to call back, balancing my slim cell phone to my ear to avoid the long-distance charges from our land line. Drat.

Sometimes my life feels like that -- like I'm just about to grab the secret to all my issues and it slips through my fingers. I once attended a cartooning class with my son, and I drew a cartoon of a little girl running down the street as the icecream truck pulls away. Double drat.

But there are also times, thank the good Lord, that life offers a sort of re-do. I've heard this quote several times recently - "every set back is a set up for a comeback." Thank you God, for Your faithfulness is new every morning.

So I am becoming reaquainted with the girl I referenced in the last blog -- maybe not as victorious as I'd like, but she's making progress. Yet I find another bothersome phenomenon -- We cope with life challenging issues by numbing ourselves with a variety of substances and activities. When you stop doing that, those challenging issues resurface, sometimes with a vengance. So here I am, though I have controlled my eating, I find I don't really like the way I interact with those I love the most. Am I better sleepy and chubby? By no means, but wow, is this annoying!

If I could draw a cartoon now, I'd draw a picture of myself staring into the mirror, hair ascew, face blemished and mascara smudged. The caption would read, "I hate it when I feel pretty good about myself until I look in the mirror."

All I can do is quote Matt Maher as he's quoting scripture - "Your grace is enough heaven reaching down to us. Your grace is enough for me...I'm covered in your love." And this is the soundtrack of my life right now.

Freedom and Addictions

I sit here with my belly over full, and my heart aching with shame. Since the end of December I have stuffed myself beyond fullness. Why? What am I looking to sooth with food? I look and find no answers, only a jumble of rationalizations, habits, and less than ideal circumstances that always lead me to food and paradoxically, to emptiness.

I’ve been reading Walter Wangerin Jr.’s novel Paul. Currently I am in the midst of the debate between Paul and the other Jews about circumcision and dietary restrictions. Paul insists that Gentiles should not be required to follow the Jewish tradition of circumcision, because to put that obligation on them diminishes the Gospel. Jesus is enough. It is for freedom that Christ set us free. Yet then there is the matter of dietary restrictions. Circumcision is for the Jews and not the Gentiles, but just as the Jews will follow the circumcision tradition, so they also follow the tradition of not eating certain foods. When eating with Jews, shouldn’t the Gentiles follow those rules as well? Paul says no, that is obedience, not freedom!

And I wonder, are obedience and freedom mutually exclusive? I guess the difference lies in what comes before -- obedience out of fear of punishment is completely different than obedience motivated by love. In one case, one might appear obedient because he hasn’t gotten caught. In the other, one is clearly aware of his lack of obedience because it is so small in comparison to the love. One compares himself to others, saying, “At least I’m not as bad as so and so.” The other weeps tears of regret at one hurtful act.

And freedom? Am I free to eat as much as I want? I find that as soon as I agree and say yes, I am no longer free. I am captive to that craving, and further more, captive by the emptiness that follows. What a wretched soul am I!

Real freedom is this - I am free resist the lies of this world. I am free to return to the fountain of Grace after I have once again searched for satisfaction elsewhere. I am free not of the consequences, but of the tendency to let them define me. God does not define us by our failures, instead he sees us as the person we will become. Oh, how I long to catch a glimpse of that victorious believer!

Anticipation

That bit of an Advent sermon stays with me, even now as even Epiphany has passed. We prayed “Increase in us an anticipation of Your coming.” Advent is about the discipline of waiting, something so foreign in this instant society. Loosely quoting someone that our pastoral intern quoted in that sermon, “The only thing more wonderful than the event of Christ’s coming is the waiting for that wonderful event.”

That Sunday in Advent the words of that classic hymn spoke to me as well “O Come, O come Immanuel, and ransom captive Israel.” I questioned to myself “what inside of me is captive? “ The answer I found was this -- Hope is captive. Hope and the bold prayer for sweet reunion. Captive by the reality of “bitterness, envy and strife.” Captive by the reality of wounds -- both those that I have inflicted and those I have sustained. And following on that is the longing -- the longing I am afraid to give voice to because I cannot bear to hope and be disappointed again -- the longing to be embraced in the arms of those I have hurt, and the longing to finally forget the hurts I have had to forgive.

The reunion I long for is more than joining hands around a proverbial campfire and singing “Kum Ba Yah.” It’s a reunion that not just joins what has been separated, but instead makes something new and wonderful out of the broken pieces. Like a mosaic made of broken tiles, one which perhaps forms a cross, perhaps a chalice and loaf, perhaps a crashing wave of love…or perhaps something even more grand and wonderful than I can imagine. Will I see it this side of heaven? Don’t know… but I do know that God’s faithfulness is everywhere (Psalm 19, 108)

So I’m left here with my feet stuck firmly in the mud of that reality, and the sometime clear, sometimes faint vision of something more. And here is where I have to make myself forget the slights - real or imagined - and forgive. How do I make myself? The same way a house plant strains toward the light. Because of who I am, something in me knows that I need that healing light. But also because of who I am, I see places where I am deemed unworthy. Quickly on the heals of that thought, I have to find evidence of unmerited favor. It grates me to think of the crippled orphan that I was, and the grieving parents who swooped in to save me. I hate to think of the debt of gratitude that I can never repay. I still hear the ever-present “I love you” at the end of every phone call, and even when that doesn’t ring true, even when that human love shows itself imperfect, I turn my heart to faith, that stubborn optimism that cling to the truth knowing that without it I will surely perish.

So with the eyes of faith I say that some day my biological mother and father will meet my “real” parents, and that they will see beyond the walls of class, political party, lifestyle and beliefs to the people, the those who gave DNA, faith, tears, love dreams, and time … gave all of those things and more to me, or to just the idea of me … the baby and child and the woman who is all me. That each will see the sacrifice that was made as something divine, and that we’ll all be flooded with a holy awe, so much so that others will see and hear of it and say, “Wow, God. Wow. This could only be you, God. Wow.”

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

It happened to me -- October 2010

I never thought I would be one of the ones who would tell a story about opening a piece of mail and finding a check at just the right time. I am bursting to tell the story -- the story of the tears pricking my eyes as I read the accompanying letter, of the letting go as I read on and those tears became a stream of joy bubbling up from a well within that I had feared had gone dry...but first I must back up a few days...

I have had 2 minor car accidents in the past week caused by cell phone use, and several other recent close calls which God used to wake me up. As a result, I imposed a strict no phone policy, and have promised my family that I will abide by it and pay a hefty fine to them if I don't. I even printed a sign for my dashboard to remind me - color printing & graphics to get the message across! These accidents have not only woken me up, but also have placed an addition strain on our finances, at just the worst time -- health insurance changes at John's work for 2011, another minor car accident for him on the very same day as one of mine (his wasn‘t caused by cell phone usage, but a deer), and lastly upcoming major surgery for our oldest son.

That is the background which made the following events even more impactful.

My husband came from a pastor’s family -- good German Lutherans whose stubbornness makes faith unshakeable and frugality second nature. Throughout his growing up years, the family took only camping vacations which were often cancelled because of a congregation member’s untimely death. In the family of four children, extra curricular activities were restricted because high school was a time to work to save for college. Shortly after he proposed to me, my future husband apologetically explained to me that with him, I would acquire his unpaid student loans. Having grown up privileged by comparison, that didn’t register with me at all. The frugality of his family life as a child was not just out of necessity, but also so that his parents could travel together after they retired. As it happened, his father died before retirement. His widowed mother did travel quite frequently, but now at 85, she has begun to disburse her savings regularly to each of her children. She receives so much joy in the giving, and because she is still with us, we avoid the inheritance tax. We never know when it will be our turn to receive, nor do we know the amount.

I was reaching for my cell phone as I was backing out of the driveway, and I ran over our mailbox. The following day, we received a letter from Grandma. When I saw the typewritten letter and the check, I knew I should read the letter before looking closely at the check. That’s the background...the prickling of tears, and the letting go as joy bubbled forth...

In the next several days, I thought a lot about my mother-in-law. We had received checks like this before, but somehow this was different. After we read the letter, we decided to share it with our children. What an impact it made! The letter talked about their plans to travel together, the travels that she enjoyed after his death, and about how no matter how bad things were financially, they never reduced their giving to their church. This is her legacy -- a legacy of being faithful, of accepting life as it comes, of holding loosely to the things of this world, of giving freely. As we passed around the check to each child, we saw their eyes widen. Our oldest wondered, “How did they do that in those days?“ As I shared their comments with the giver, she just couldn't keep from giggling!

In keeping with the spirit of the gift, we first discussed what we would do with the portion that we decided to give away. As each child made their suggestions, I took notes. Finally, each had an amount that they could give to the charity of their choice. They wrote their own checks, which I signed.

And I marveled at how yes, it had happened to me, to us.