We ladies didn't get to have our Spring Bible Study because someone was really sick and apparently thought that was more fun than hanging out with friends. Alas. Plans for fall are already taking shape in my head if that makes anyone feel better.
In April I was invited to an area meeting of Precept leaders, and Kay Arthur was there to speak. This was the second time I've heard her speak live, and I must admit that I love this lady! She is wise, and she is REAL. I love it when ministry people are real. Don't you? I don't have time for fake. I was also inspired to commit to an in-depth Bible study. And where is the best place to go for those??? Why, Precept Ministries of course! I chose 2 Samuel. In the fall of 2006 I taught 1 Samuel and absolutely loved it. Due to a new work schedule and the crazy year that followed 2 Samuel was placed on the back burner. So, it's a study I've been waiting to do and now seemed the perfect time. Plus, I already had the book.
As usual, I'm always amazed at what I learn from these studies. Many of you know that I love being in the Old Testament. Talk about real people. Oh my. Sometimes I want to hide my face from their shame -- like it's worse than mine or something. It makes my heart leap with joy to know that my God is real, and He knows us well, and He isn't shocked by our thoughts or actions. Disappointed maybe, but not shocked.
Lesson 5 begins tomorrow. Today I just wanted to share a few new things I've learned thru Lesson 4. Later in the week I'll come back and share some other things with you which are much deeper and require more time. Three page blogs are hard for me to read.
One of the first things I learned is that 2 Samuel has a much different feel to it. It's bloodier. It's more heartbreaking. I didn't know that Uriah the Hittite was one of David's mighty men. It adds a completely different emotion to the story of David and Bathsheba. This man had fought with David for years as he fled from Saul. Uriah was still a valiant warrior and was serving David faithfully. How arrogant we all become when we think our relationship with God is on such a plane that we can do no evil thing. Gut wrenching betrayal.
I've always had a problem with God striking Uzzah dead when he reached out to keep the ark of the covenant from falling. It's been one of those little burrs that irritate and nag -- you know the kind -- well, if you're honest you know. I learned that David moved the ark without first learning God's instructions for moving the ark. The ark was sacred. It represented the holy place of God. There were very definite instructions, meticulous instructions, for everything ark related. And David did not follow those instructions. So many lessons in this passage. I now have an understanding of why God did what He did. More later.
I've also discovered that many of David's key people were related to him somehow. Joab, David's right hand man, was also his nephew. Fascinating. And Ahithophel, David's counselor who conspired with Absalom to take the throne from David, was Bathsheba's grandfather. Oh what tangled webs we weave.
For some reason I've always pictured Absalom as a young man when he decides to take the kingdom away from David. No. Today's culture might call it a mid-life crisis. Absalom lived in peace with his father after their 'reconciliation' for FORTY years before he acted. You know, Absalom also waited to get even with Amnon on behalf of his sister, Tamar. He was a schemer and an avenger. Forty years he waited. Amazing.
These are just a few of the facts. The ramifications of these and the practical, spiritual lessons to be gleaned from these events are vast. I can hardly wait to share.
Kay Arthur always tells us that in order to truly worship the God of scripture we must know His character. And how else to you learn God's character than by studying His Word? Precept upon precept. That's how you do it. What an adventure!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Goofy Things
I have been instructed by my children and a few others to stop going down memory lane. Nathan told me yesterday that he's had enough of that lane to last for quite some time. So in order to bring a little humor to the table I've been thinking of all the goofy things that have happened to us over the years. Kristi thinks this should be a book -- not just a blog post. Unfortunately my memory is not that good. But here's a few things that should, at the very least, bring a smile to your face.
Just because Kristi thought this was such a grand idea, I'll start with her favorite story. When she introduces Jeanna to new friends she always adds this story as a sidebar. Jeanna and I are both SO impressed with this -- NOT! When Jeanna was in kindergarten she came home and told me that later in the week they were having "Dress-Up Day." It sounded like great fun to me and with her input on the day of the 'event' we dressed her up as a clown. She wore a red gingham clown suit (it even had a ruffle that went around her neck), we 'painted' her face, and put her hair in various 'pigtails'. She was a really cute clown. We took pictures of her and Jason standing by the front door before her Dad took her to school.
Later that afternoon Jason and I headed to the school for the quarterly awards program. Uh-oh. My cute little clown daughter should have been wearing one of her frilly pinafore dresses and her black patent leathers. Poor baby, if it wasn't enough that her mother dressed her as a clown, she had earned several awards and kept having to get up in front of the entire school. Oh, the shame of it all. Maybe she learned to be tough because of her mother, and not because of her brothers. Yikes.
The summer after Jason's kindergarten year we went and stayed a week in Colorado with my cousin and her family. I came from downstairs one morning and noticed none of the kids were in the house. I asked where they were and was told they were outside riding the 4-wheeler. As I'm looking around - noticing that ALL of the adults were inside - I began to rise up off the sofa to go supervise. As I am rising, my mother happens to glance out the window and screams, "oh my gosh, they've just run over Jason with the 4-wheeler!" Yep, we all know that 6, 8, and 9 year-olds should not be unsupervised around mechanical equipment. And ours, being the dare devils that they are (I would say were, but it would be untrue), were playing chicken. Jason just forgot to jump back out of the way quickly enough. Thankfully, he was not badly injured. No broken bones, just a cut on the head which bled like crazy and required two stitches.
Fast forward to Jason's 7th grade year. He's playing football for the first time and his back starts bothering him. We take him to a specialist (that's a whole other story) who sends us elsewhere to have x-rays taken. We get the x-rays back and as the doctor is looking at them says, "were you ever in a car accident or anything like that when you were younger?" Jason and I look at him blankly, and we both said, "No." His 7th lumbar was broken. The doctor said it isn't uncommon but most people don't find out about it until they are in their late 20's and playing golf. (which was the forbidden sport in my household at that time-another story) We go home, Jason calls his Grandma to tell her the news, and the first thing out of her mouth was, "oh, I bet that happened when you got run over by the 4-wheeler, huh?" Good grief. Made a big impression didn't it? I'm not sure we ever shared that story with the doctor. Some days it's just best to remain silent. Have mercy.
One night after some some event we were all congregating back at the house. Nathan and Jason had gone by Taco Villa for dinner. Mike, Jeanna, and I were already home. We three were standing out on the front porch watching it rain and watching the clouds. That's what West Texans do when that wet stuff comes down -- we stop everything and watch -- it's amazing. It was beginning to rain in earnest when Nathan and Jason arrived with the food. They jumped out of the car and ran towards the house. Mike was standing with his arm propped up on the bricks. Nathan thought Mike was holding the glass screen door open for him and Jason. Mike wasn't holding the door open. Nathan put his head down as if he were going under Mike's arm and ran right through that glass door - forehead first. Nathan ran through the entry way then dove onto the carpet and slid. He ended up with a couple of pieces of glass embedded in his arm and glass was all over him.
The screen was made of safety glass, so mostly it just crumbled. It took awhile to get the glass off of Nathan and make sure he was okay. We ended up in the emergency room so the glass could be removed from his arm and a few stitches later we were back home. He had torn a small hole in the knee of his khaki's from the slide, but other than his arm there were no more cuts - a few nicks, but nothing else. Well, he did have a knot on his forehead. (grimace) To this day there is no screen door at that house. We would go to Home Depot to look at glass doors, and I would turn green. Alas.
There are other stories. Soccer injuries, baseball injuries, New Year's Eve preparation injuries. Jeanna was at IBC helping decorate for the student New Year's Eve party. She and Corey started trash talking and Corey started 'punching'. The problem was that he made contact with Jeanna's front teeth -- she had had her braces off about three months. (they were playing - this wasn't new behavior) Yep, poor Corey will never live that down. Sorry dear.
Oh, and since we started with Kristi's favorite we'll end with a Kristi story. We were all in Amarillo to pack her and Nathan for their move to Fort Worth. She and Trent were arguing about something and whatever Trent said to her made her mad. Mike and Nathan were both wearing Texas Tech gray hoodies. Kristi turned around to slug Nathan in the back -- only it wasn't Nathan -- it was Michael. If only we had a picture of the absolute look of horror on her face when she realized it was Michael. Trent, Vickie, and I literally hit the floor laughing. Mike turned around and gave her the funniest look. She didn't know whether to cry, laugh, or cuss. Nathan and Ron were stunned. The rest of the week Mike moaned about the 'bruises' on his back. She would turn beet red -- and still does when reminded. Too funny. Especially when both of the daughter-in-laws are always telling us they don't want 'that look' from Michael.
There probably is some deep spiritual significance in those stories -- but I don't know what it would be. Sometimes you just gotta laugh, cause it's funny. or something.
Just because Kristi thought this was such a grand idea, I'll start with her favorite story. When she introduces Jeanna to new friends she always adds this story as a sidebar. Jeanna and I are both SO impressed with this -- NOT! When Jeanna was in kindergarten she came home and told me that later in the week they were having "Dress-Up Day." It sounded like great fun to me and with her input on the day of the 'event' we dressed her up as a clown. She wore a red gingham clown suit (it even had a ruffle that went around her neck), we 'painted' her face, and put her hair in various 'pigtails'. She was a really cute clown. We took pictures of her and Jason standing by the front door before her Dad took her to school.
Later that afternoon Jason and I headed to the school for the quarterly awards program. Uh-oh. My cute little clown daughter should have been wearing one of her frilly pinafore dresses and her black patent leathers. Poor baby, if it wasn't enough that her mother dressed her as a clown, she had earned several awards and kept having to get up in front of the entire school. Oh, the shame of it all. Maybe she learned to be tough because of her mother, and not because of her brothers. Yikes.
The summer after Jason's kindergarten year we went and stayed a week in Colorado with my cousin and her family. I came from downstairs one morning and noticed none of the kids were in the house. I asked where they were and was told they were outside riding the 4-wheeler. As I'm looking around - noticing that ALL of the adults were inside - I began to rise up off the sofa to go supervise. As I am rising, my mother happens to glance out the window and screams, "oh my gosh, they've just run over Jason with the 4-wheeler!" Yep, we all know that 6, 8, and 9 year-olds should not be unsupervised around mechanical equipment. And ours, being the dare devils that they are (I would say were, but it would be untrue), were playing chicken. Jason just forgot to jump back out of the way quickly enough. Thankfully, he was not badly injured. No broken bones, just a cut on the head which bled like crazy and required two stitches.
Fast forward to Jason's 7th grade year. He's playing football for the first time and his back starts bothering him. We take him to a specialist (that's a whole other story) who sends us elsewhere to have x-rays taken. We get the x-rays back and as the doctor is looking at them says, "were you ever in a car accident or anything like that when you were younger?" Jason and I look at him blankly, and we both said, "No." His 7th lumbar was broken. The doctor said it isn't uncommon but most people don't find out about it until they are in their late 20's and playing golf. (which was the forbidden sport in my household at that time-another story) We go home, Jason calls his Grandma to tell her the news, and the first thing out of her mouth was, "oh, I bet that happened when you got run over by the 4-wheeler, huh?" Good grief. Made a big impression didn't it? I'm not sure we ever shared that story with the doctor. Some days it's just best to remain silent. Have mercy.
One night after some some event we were all congregating back at the house. Nathan and Jason had gone by Taco Villa for dinner. Mike, Jeanna, and I were already home. We three were standing out on the front porch watching it rain and watching the clouds. That's what West Texans do when that wet stuff comes down -- we stop everything and watch -- it's amazing. It was beginning to rain in earnest when Nathan and Jason arrived with the food. They jumped out of the car and ran towards the house. Mike was standing with his arm propped up on the bricks. Nathan thought Mike was holding the glass screen door open for him and Jason. Mike wasn't holding the door open. Nathan put his head down as if he were going under Mike's arm and ran right through that glass door - forehead first. Nathan ran through the entry way then dove onto the carpet and slid. He ended up with a couple of pieces of glass embedded in his arm and glass was all over him.
The screen was made of safety glass, so mostly it just crumbled. It took awhile to get the glass off of Nathan and make sure he was okay. We ended up in the emergency room so the glass could be removed from his arm and a few stitches later we were back home. He had torn a small hole in the knee of his khaki's from the slide, but other than his arm there were no more cuts - a few nicks, but nothing else. Well, he did have a knot on his forehead. (grimace) To this day there is no screen door at that house. We would go to Home Depot to look at glass doors, and I would turn green. Alas.
There are other stories. Soccer injuries, baseball injuries, New Year's Eve preparation injuries. Jeanna was at IBC helping decorate for the student New Year's Eve party. She and Corey started trash talking and Corey started 'punching'. The problem was that he made contact with Jeanna's front teeth -- she had had her braces off about three months. (they were playing - this wasn't new behavior) Yep, poor Corey will never live that down. Sorry dear.
Oh, and since we started with Kristi's favorite we'll end with a Kristi story. We were all in Amarillo to pack her and Nathan for their move to Fort Worth. She and Trent were arguing about something and whatever Trent said to her made her mad. Mike and Nathan were both wearing Texas Tech gray hoodies. Kristi turned around to slug Nathan in the back -- only it wasn't Nathan -- it was Michael. If only we had a picture of the absolute look of horror on her face when she realized it was Michael. Trent, Vickie, and I literally hit the floor laughing. Mike turned around and gave her the funniest look. She didn't know whether to cry, laugh, or cuss. Nathan and Ron were stunned. The rest of the week Mike moaned about the 'bruises' on his back. She would turn beet red -- and still does when reminded. Too funny. Especially when both of the daughter-in-laws are always telling us they don't want 'that look' from Michael.
There probably is some deep spiritual significance in those stories -- but I don't know what it would be. Sometimes you just gotta laugh, cause it's funny. or something.
Friday, March 25, 2011
When You Just Don't Know
Not too long ago a friend of mine asked if she and I could find a Bible study on love and work through it together. After a little research I found a study I thought would be appropriate. It requires some homework, but not much, and of course we both like that. While completing one of the segments this week I had an 'aha' moment. Not sure how you guys feel about those, but I find them quite refreshing.
The passage was in Genesis where God tells Abraham to take Isaac up the mountain and sacrifice him. And Abraham does just what every parent would do. He gets the wood ready, packs everything up, rounds up Isaac and a few servants, and heads for the mountain. He doesn't ask any questions. He doesn't argue with God. He just goes. Can you believe that??? (okay, just in case you haven't caught onto the sarcasm, I don't know any parents who would do that)
Do you think Isaac might have been a little nervous? I mean, he asks his Dad where's the lamb? And Abraham tells him God will provide one. But then, when your Dad puts the wood on the altar and ties you up and puts you on top of the wood, well, I don't know about you, but I'd be not so impressed. And somehow, I'm thinking Isaac isn't too much different than us. Wow.
And then, just in the nick of time, God intervenes. Whew! We were getting worried there weren't we? And we learn that God was testing Abraham. And God tells Abraham, "I just wanted to see if you would withhold your son, your only son from Me." Yes, there all kinds of lessons in this passage. But what struck me is the fact that God walked Abraham through each step to see if he was willing to give Him Isaac, and then wham, never mind, I just wanted to see what you would do.
Everyone remembers 9/11/2001, where you were, how you felt, what you feared, etc. Nathan and Jeanna were going to school at Texas Tech. They were very involved in the Baptist Student Ministry (BSM) and actually had a Bible study that night. (Tuesday night - regular Bible study night) While they were there, one of their friends who was a semester missionary in New York City called. She was safe, but she was telling all of them how great the need was. That night after her call, a group of college students decided they needed to pack up and head to NYC to help in any way they could.
Later that night, we get a phone call. Yep, you guessed it, they were part of the group. The plan was still in its early stages, so Mike and I slept fine that night, which was good, because the morning would bring a totally different kind of day. The calls started early the next morning. I had barely made it to work when they started calling. I spent most of the day in the back part of our office on my knees, draped over a chair, with the phone at my ear. They would call with this plan, and with that plan, and this idea, and that idea. There were classes to withdraw from, leases to be broken, money to be gathered, and the list went on and on and on.
We immediately sent out an SOS for prayer. I was on the phone with Brian Swiggart, our youth pastor at the time, almost as much as I was with Nathan, Jeanna, or Michael. Mike and I met for lunch to discuss the logistics of how we would get a group of college students and their stuff to NYC. They couldn't fly, we would have to drive them. We contacted Terry, Mike's brother, for prayer support and wise counsel. He was very gracious and offered to work on funds if the decision was to go. I left work early that day and drove over to Mom and Dad's to get some encouragement from them. It was insane.
When it came down to it, the decision was made not to go. Too many were dropping out due to parental pressure, and because of the way the group was organized it would be too difficult if it wasn't a team effort. Jeanna called me at 4:30 pm to tell me they weren't going. I know I cried, but I couldn't tell you why. It was an emotional day.
When we moved to OKC I had the opportunity to speak with one of the other students about this whole ordeal. It's been a topic of conversation in our household from time to time. What in the world was that about? Ryan told me how disappointed he had been that his parents hadn't supported the plan. After graduation he had moved to Seattle and ran into someone who had gone for ministry purposes. He shared that the regret of not going was more intense after that. Bummer.
But you know what? I don't think it was about the students as much as I think it was about the parents. I think there are seven sets of parents that were tested that day. I've almost come to the conclusion that regardless the trip would have never occurred. And when I was reading the story of Abraham and Isaac this week it was as though a huge bell went off indicating that sometimes it's all about the test. You could call it the test of faith. Whoa! Really God? All of that was just a test? And I was reminded of other times we have been put through the steps.
Mike and I passed that particular test, but trust me, there have been others that we flunked big time. How about you? Do you hold on to things and people so tightly that God would have to chisel them away? Would you allow that circumstance to cause bitterness and anger towards God? Is it such a fearful thing to trust a mighty God? Some days, the answer would have to be a resounding YES.
But maybe, just maybe, He can say to us, "Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him, for now I know that you fear God, seeing you have not withheld your son . . .from Me."
The passage was in Genesis where God tells Abraham to take Isaac up the mountain and sacrifice him. And Abraham does just what every parent would do. He gets the wood ready, packs everything up, rounds up Isaac and a few servants, and heads for the mountain. He doesn't ask any questions. He doesn't argue with God. He just goes. Can you believe that??? (okay, just in case you haven't caught onto the sarcasm, I don't know any parents who would do that)
Do you think Isaac might have been a little nervous? I mean, he asks his Dad where's the lamb? And Abraham tells him God will provide one. But then, when your Dad puts the wood on the altar and ties you up and puts you on top of the wood, well, I don't know about you, but I'd be not so impressed. And somehow, I'm thinking Isaac isn't too much different than us. Wow.
And then, just in the nick of time, God intervenes. Whew! We were getting worried there weren't we? And we learn that God was testing Abraham. And God tells Abraham, "I just wanted to see if you would withhold your son, your only son from Me." Yes, there all kinds of lessons in this passage. But what struck me is the fact that God walked Abraham through each step to see if he was willing to give Him Isaac, and then wham, never mind, I just wanted to see what you would do.
Everyone remembers 9/11/2001, where you were, how you felt, what you feared, etc. Nathan and Jeanna were going to school at Texas Tech. They were very involved in the Baptist Student Ministry (BSM) and actually had a Bible study that night. (Tuesday night - regular Bible study night) While they were there, one of their friends who was a semester missionary in New York City called. She was safe, but she was telling all of them how great the need was. That night after her call, a group of college students decided they needed to pack up and head to NYC to help in any way they could.
Later that night, we get a phone call. Yep, you guessed it, they were part of the group. The plan was still in its early stages, so Mike and I slept fine that night, which was good, because the morning would bring a totally different kind of day. The calls started early the next morning. I had barely made it to work when they started calling. I spent most of the day in the back part of our office on my knees, draped over a chair, with the phone at my ear. They would call with this plan, and with that plan, and this idea, and that idea. There were classes to withdraw from, leases to be broken, money to be gathered, and the list went on and on and on.
We immediately sent out an SOS for prayer. I was on the phone with Brian Swiggart, our youth pastor at the time, almost as much as I was with Nathan, Jeanna, or Michael. Mike and I met for lunch to discuss the logistics of how we would get a group of college students and their stuff to NYC. They couldn't fly, we would have to drive them. We contacted Terry, Mike's brother, for prayer support and wise counsel. He was very gracious and offered to work on funds if the decision was to go. I left work early that day and drove over to Mom and Dad's to get some encouragement from them. It was insane.
When it came down to it, the decision was made not to go. Too many were dropping out due to parental pressure, and because of the way the group was organized it would be too difficult if it wasn't a team effort. Jeanna called me at 4:30 pm to tell me they weren't going. I know I cried, but I couldn't tell you why. It was an emotional day.
When we moved to OKC I had the opportunity to speak with one of the other students about this whole ordeal. It's been a topic of conversation in our household from time to time. What in the world was that about? Ryan told me how disappointed he had been that his parents hadn't supported the plan. After graduation he had moved to Seattle and ran into someone who had gone for ministry purposes. He shared that the regret of not going was more intense after that. Bummer.
But you know what? I don't think it was about the students as much as I think it was about the parents. I think there are seven sets of parents that were tested that day. I've almost come to the conclusion that regardless the trip would have never occurred. And when I was reading the story of Abraham and Isaac this week it was as though a huge bell went off indicating that sometimes it's all about the test. You could call it the test of faith. Whoa! Really God? All of that was just a test? And I was reminded of other times we have been put through the steps.
Mike and I passed that particular test, but trust me, there have been others that we flunked big time. How about you? Do you hold on to things and people so tightly that God would have to chisel them away? Would you allow that circumstance to cause bitterness and anger towards God? Is it such a fearful thing to trust a mighty God? Some days, the answer would have to be a resounding YES.
But maybe, just maybe, He can say to us, "Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him, for now I know that you fear God, seeing you have not withheld your son . . .from Me."
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Faithfulness from a Mighty God
Well, now that February is almost over I'm almost feeling normal. (I can just hear those who know me best saying, "Normal? You've never been normal in your life!" Alas.) I don't recall ever missing such a big block of life at one time. Two weeks in bed and another week wondering why I wasn't is no way to start the new year. I have learned that not even upon my worst enemy would I ever wish a sinus infection. Pain, and then more pain, and maybe I'm just a wuss. Again, alas.
So, this week I've tried to take it easy, which isn't hard when you have no strength to do anything for more than 30 minutes at a time. Our pastor reminded us on Facebook that RADICALIS 2011 was happening (an annual conference hosted by Saddleback Church) so I tuned in. It was just what the doctor ordered - an encouragement to the soul and the spirit and a reminder from God that it's not about me. Dang it!
While listening in on-line I tackled a chore I"ve been putting off for years. That would be going through and organizing all of our photos. It's easier to scrapbook if you have them in order, right? So of course, you guessed it, I've been walking down memory lane again. But that's the purpose of taking all those pictures isn't it?
There are several things that have caught my attention going through all of those photos. One is that we were BUSY. Oh my gosh, BUSY. Children at home make you BUSY. Have mercy. I must pray harder for my friends who are in that phase of their life right now.
Another thing that struck me is that we had two years (and maybe more) that were traumatic - life changing - painful - oh dear God are we going to survive this - kind of years. One of those was in 1992. We lost three family members that year. The first was in February (hmmm). Our brother-in-law lost his courageous battle with cancer. Our kids and their kids were not only close in age, but they were close as in friends. I remember Jason staying with them over the weekends before and then being so sad that he almost always had to come home from school on Mondays. I remember one of the reasons he made it that year was that his second grade teacher's husband was fighting a similar battle, and I know for a fact that they shed tears together on more than one occasion. It was hard. It hurt. It left us wounded.
In May, Mike's Aunt Melva lost her battle with brain cancer. We were still wounded, and the pain went a little deeper. Her funeral was almost harder than Bill's because with his we had had time to grieve as a family before the service. We did not have that luxury with her service. It was hard. It hurt. It wounded.
Then in December, right before finals Granny Ray died. She was Mike's grandmother. And so yet again, there were tears to shed, and hurts to heal. And we couldn't just shed tears for her at that point. There was another round of tears for Bill and for Melva. Grief sometimes likes to come and stay.
There were other hard things that year. For the first time since having children I had to return to work full-time. I spent March, April, and May in El Paso during the week for job training. In December, the week that Granny Ray died I had the flu. Thought I was going to die then too, but thankfully the duration was only four days. I was feeling better just in time to get in the car and head to Arkansas. Nathan and Lori had transitioned to junior high that year, which is traumatic in and of itself.
Now there were times of comic relief as well. This family that I'm apart of has learned to grieve well. We tell people that we are professional grievers-we've got this thing down to a science. Melva was to be buried in Arkansas. May is in the middle of baseball season, and we had three boys that were playing. We headed to Arkansas about 10 pm one night after a round of baseball games.
We just knew the kids would keep us awake. Oh no, by Big Spring every last one of them was out for the count. It was up to Donna and I to keep Michael awake all night. Remember that it was Bill Clinton's first year in office, and he had resided in the small town of Hope, Arkansas. And, as luck would have it, that's where Mike's family is from, and of course, that's where we were headed. And, if you know my husband at all, you know he detested Bill Clinton from the beginning.
As we are getting closer and closer to Arkansas Donna and I saw that we might have a problem. All along the interstate were big signs saying, "Welcome to Arkansas, Home of William Jefferson Clinton, President of the United States." We were terrified that Mike would read those signs and we would do a u-turn in the median and head back to Dallas. Michael scowled all the way into Hope while Donna and I laughed like drunken sailors. Have mercy.
You know, we survived that year, every last one of us. We survived because we knew a God who could be trusted. We survived because people we didn't even know were praying for us. We survived because life goes on, and it's not about us, or even any of those we lost that year. There are days I still grieve over them.
I can also say that because of that pivotal year not only was my faith strengthened, but so was the faith of my children. I think that year was the year God became VERY real to each one of them. It was no longer their parents' faith - it became their faith, and He became their God. I would love to say that it was easy, but it wasn't. We asked the hard questions, and we struggled. And yes, our kids knew we were struggling.
As we've talked and walked through the years things come up, and the parallel to that year is so very obvious. And the lessons we learned still hold true. God is the same, yesterday, today, and forever.
Because we have a faithful God and a mighty God, we also made it through the firestorm that was 2007. There were many people praying for us that year too. Friends, family, and tons we don't even know. Thank you.
One of the conference speakers said that if you've ever wrestled with God you'll never be the same. He was right. Jacob had a limp for the rest of his life after his encounter with God. The speaker even said to beware of someone who claims to be a man of God who doesn't walk with a limp. Intriguing thought. Our family has limp-ers, and when we forget God reminds us. Do you have a limp? God is faithful. God is mighty. And He would love to wrestle with you so that you can learn first-hand that He is faithful, and He is mighty.
So, this week I've tried to take it easy, which isn't hard when you have no strength to do anything for more than 30 minutes at a time. Our pastor reminded us on Facebook that RADICALIS 2011 was happening (an annual conference hosted by Saddleback Church) so I tuned in. It was just what the doctor ordered - an encouragement to the soul and the spirit and a reminder from God that it's not about me. Dang it!
While listening in on-line I tackled a chore I"ve been putting off for years. That would be going through and organizing all of our photos. It's easier to scrapbook if you have them in order, right? So of course, you guessed it, I've been walking down memory lane again. But that's the purpose of taking all those pictures isn't it?
There are several things that have caught my attention going through all of those photos. One is that we were BUSY. Oh my gosh, BUSY. Children at home make you BUSY. Have mercy. I must pray harder for my friends who are in that phase of their life right now.
Another thing that struck me is that we had two years (and maybe more) that were traumatic - life changing - painful - oh dear God are we going to survive this - kind of years. One of those was in 1992. We lost three family members that year. The first was in February (hmmm). Our brother-in-law lost his courageous battle with cancer. Our kids and their kids were not only close in age, but they were close as in friends. I remember Jason staying with them over the weekends before and then being so sad that he almost always had to come home from school on Mondays. I remember one of the reasons he made it that year was that his second grade teacher's husband was fighting a similar battle, and I know for a fact that they shed tears together on more than one occasion. It was hard. It hurt. It left us wounded.
In May, Mike's Aunt Melva lost her battle with brain cancer. We were still wounded, and the pain went a little deeper. Her funeral was almost harder than Bill's because with his we had had time to grieve as a family before the service. We did not have that luxury with her service. It was hard. It hurt. It wounded.
Then in December, right before finals Granny Ray died. She was Mike's grandmother. And so yet again, there were tears to shed, and hurts to heal. And we couldn't just shed tears for her at that point. There was another round of tears for Bill and for Melva. Grief sometimes likes to come and stay.
There were other hard things that year. For the first time since having children I had to return to work full-time. I spent March, April, and May in El Paso during the week for job training. In December, the week that Granny Ray died I had the flu. Thought I was going to die then too, but thankfully the duration was only four days. I was feeling better just in time to get in the car and head to Arkansas. Nathan and Lori had transitioned to junior high that year, which is traumatic in and of itself.
Now there were times of comic relief as well. This family that I'm apart of has learned to grieve well. We tell people that we are professional grievers-we've got this thing down to a science. Melva was to be buried in Arkansas. May is in the middle of baseball season, and we had three boys that were playing. We headed to Arkansas about 10 pm one night after a round of baseball games.
We just knew the kids would keep us awake. Oh no, by Big Spring every last one of them was out for the count. It was up to Donna and I to keep Michael awake all night. Remember that it was Bill Clinton's first year in office, and he had resided in the small town of Hope, Arkansas. And, as luck would have it, that's where Mike's family is from, and of course, that's where we were headed. And, if you know my husband at all, you know he detested Bill Clinton from the beginning.
As we are getting closer and closer to Arkansas Donna and I saw that we might have a problem. All along the interstate were big signs saying, "Welcome to Arkansas, Home of William Jefferson Clinton, President of the United States." We were terrified that Mike would read those signs and we would do a u-turn in the median and head back to Dallas. Michael scowled all the way into Hope while Donna and I laughed like drunken sailors. Have mercy.
You know, we survived that year, every last one of us. We survived because we knew a God who could be trusted. We survived because people we didn't even know were praying for us. We survived because life goes on, and it's not about us, or even any of those we lost that year. There are days I still grieve over them.
I can also say that because of that pivotal year not only was my faith strengthened, but so was the faith of my children. I think that year was the year God became VERY real to each one of them. It was no longer their parents' faith - it became their faith, and He became their God. I would love to say that it was easy, but it wasn't. We asked the hard questions, and we struggled. And yes, our kids knew we were struggling.
As we've talked and walked through the years things come up, and the parallel to that year is so very obvious. And the lessons we learned still hold true. God is the same, yesterday, today, and forever.
Because we have a faithful God and a mighty God, we also made it through the firestorm that was 2007. There were many people praying for us that year too. Friends, family, and tons we don't even know. Thank you.
One of the conference speakers said that if you've ever wrestled with God you'll never be the same. He was right. Jacob had a limp for the rest of his life after his encounter with God. The speaker even said to beware of someone who claims to be a man of God who doesn't walk with a limp. Intriguing thought. Our family has limp-ers, and when we forget God reminds us. Do you have a limp? God is faithful. God is mighty. And He would love to wrestle with you so that you can learn first-hand that He is faithful, and He is mighty.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Freedom and Joy
Freedom. It's not a word I take lightly. I suspect it has a different meaning for each of us, depending on where we've been and what life has dealt us.
For some it has a patriotic ring; a love of country and the ability to speak what's on your mind. Or the ability to work in a way that emphasizes your talents, interests, and desires. Or the ability to vote for whomever or whatever you choose in any election in which you choose to participate. Or the ability to not vote at all.
For most kids I've known or worked with it has more to do with freedom from rules imposed by their parents or some other authority figure in their world. I was always amazed at how each one of them thought they were the only ones whose parents hindered their freedom -- a rite of passage I think. I was more intrigued with those in foster care who felt that in a 'real' family the rules wouldn't be nearly as confining. To some extent they were right, but not in the areas they would have expected. It was a continual source of debate, and unfortunately for some, their quest for 'freedom' ended tragically. Heartbreaking still for those of us who love them and want for them the very best.
For still others freedom is a financial goal, a life in which they are able to do what they please whenever and however they choose without the restraint of work requirements and not having to use all of their funds just to pay the bills. Enough money to play and not be dependent on anyone else.
For me freedom is probably some of all of the above and much more. In the spring of 1986 while going through intense substance abuse counseling for addiction issues in our family, I was given permission to no longer be the peacemaker and to no longer be manipulated by guilt. That was the beginning of my journey to freedom.
It has not always been a pleasant journey. I have disappointed many, fought many others, and made some enemies along the way. I also like to think that I've encouraged a few, challenged some to a new way of thinking, and brought hope to those held captive.
My freedom is more about living in the real world, with a real God, who is relevant and not afraid of the hard questions. It's about leaving shame and guilt behind. It's more about 'being' than about 'doing'. It's about not trying to force a round peg into a square hole. It's about not focusing on the 'thou shalt nots' and focusing on Christ and the abundant life He offers. It's about living in peace even in the midst of horrific chaos. It's about knowing who ultimately has your back. It's about knowing the God of the universe who longs for a relationship with each of us and doesn't care if our quiet time is in the morning or in the evening (or if we use KJV or NIV or ESV or . . .). And I've learned that dancing unto the Lord is a precious gift.
Galatians 5:1 "For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery."
John 14:6 "Jesus said to him, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."
John 8:32 "and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."
John 8:36 "So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed."
Freedom. Joy. Peace. He offers them all. Come and see . . .
For some it has a patriotic ring; a love of country and the ability to speak what's on your mind. Or the ability to work in a way that emphasizes your talents, interests, and desires. Or the ability to vote for whomever or whatever you choose in any election in which you choose to participate. Or the ability to not vote at all.
For most kids I've known or worked with it has more to do with freedom from rules imposed by their parents or some other authority figure in their world. I was always amazed at how each one of them thought they were the only ones whose parents hindered their freedom -- a rite of passage I think. I was more intrigued with those in foster care who felt that in a 'real' family the rules wouldn't be nearly as confining. To some extent they were right, but not in the areas they would have expected. It was a continual source of debate, and unfortunately for some, their quest for 'freedom' ended tragically. Heartbreaking still for those of us who love them and want for them the very best.
For still others freedom is a financial goal, a life in which they are able to do what they please whenever and however they choose without the restraint of work requirements and not having to use all of their funds just to pay the bills. Enough money to play and not be dependent on anyone else.
For me freedom is probably some of all of the above and much more. In the spring of 1986 while going through intense substance abuse counseling for addiction issues in our family, I was given permission to no longer be the peacemaker and to no longer be manipulated by guilt. That was the beginning of my journey to freedom.
It has not always been a pleasant journey. I have disappointed many, fought many others, and made some enemies along the way. I also like to think that I've encouraged a few, challenged some to a new way of thinking, and brought hope to those held captive.
My freedom is more about living in the real world, with a real God, who is relevant and not afraid of the hard questions. It's about leaving shame and guilt behind. It's more about 'being' than about 'doing'. It's about not trying to force a round peg into a square hole. It's about not focusing on the 'thou shalt nots' and focusing on Christ and the abundant life He offers. It's about living in peace even in the midst of horrific chaos. It's about knowing who ultimately has your back. It's about knowing the God of the universe who longs for a relationship with each of us and doesn't care if our quiet time is in the morning or in the evening (or if we use KJV or NIV or ESV or . . .). And I've learned that dancing unto the Lord is a precious gift.
Galatians 5:1 "For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery."
John 14:6 "Jesus said to him, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."
John 8:32 "and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."
John 8:36 "So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed."
Freedom. Joy. Peace. He offers them all. Come and see . . .
Thursday, December 16, 2010
It's Christmas!!!
The tree is up, the house is decorated, the cards are sent, most of the gifts purchased (even a few wrapped), and menus are loosely planned. Yesterday I finally got most of my Christmas music uploaded to iTunes and made a playlist for my iPod. By the time I figure the iPod out completely there will be something else . . . alas. I am missing a few of my Christmas CDs which makes me sad. How can you have a rockin' Christmas without Chicago? Dang it!
This morning I've been listening to that playlist. Everything from John Berry singing O Holy Night to someone else singing Dominic the Donkey (heehaw heehaw). Yes, there must be variety or I would surely die. And then came Mercy Me singing their version of The Little Drummer Boy and Casting Crowns singing While You Were Sleeping. Wow. I was blown away by the simplicity and cutting truth of the lyrics.
I don't know about you, but I'm really good at making excuses before God. Lots of times I lean heavily on the passage in Psalm 103:13 & 14. As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion on those who fear Him. For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust. But Mercy Me's version of The Little Drummer Boy has the vocalist singing, "I'll play my best for you, I'll play my best for Christ."
Casting Crowns reminds us in one line how far from Truth we've come and how crazy is this world in which we live. ". . . Looks like another silent night, As we're sung to sleep by philosophies, that save the trees and kill the children . . ." Paul warns us in Colossians to not be taken captive by philosophy and empty deceit.
This Christmas may we bring our BEST to Christ, and may we be salt and light to those captives who long to be set free.
Merry Christmas from our house to yours.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Good Times
Denise Kelly introduced me to Creative Memories the summer before Nathan's senior year in high school. There were several reasons for my excitement about the company. One, there was finally a way to capture the essence of the photo not just on film, but with journaling as well. Two, maybe, just maybe, we could do something with the thousands of pictures we had in boxes. Three, the products are designed to last -- a very long time. (anybody else have faded pictures in sticky books?) I determined during our very first meeting that I would create a senior album for each one of the kids. And, I did. And each one received their book within the year of their high school graduation. (one of my more amazing accomplishments I think)
Mike and I are getting the house ready for lots of company next week. Thanksgiving is my very favorite holiday. Fellowship and food--the gift of family, friendship, and fun without the bother and stress of Christmas. While we were rearranging furniture we ran across a box of things his siblings had gathered for him after Grandma died. We have plenty of space in a filing cabinet we use and the decision was made to file it away at a later time.
This afternoon that was my task. I found birth announcements for several of Mike's cousins and a note to Mike from a friend at church who had pinned him during his induction into Permian High School's National Honor Society. There were church bulletins from special events and even one from Bacon Heights in Lubbock. There were obituaries of those we've loved and lost. There were thank you notes from several that Pop and Gram had blessed in some way through the years. There was even a picture one of the kids had drawn of Pop's work. There were report cards and scholarship letters. Lots of memories.
But what sparked my interest the most were the photographs. Several of our first Christmas as a married couple. I'd forgotten Donna and I were so thin back in the day. (What happened?) There were pictures of Mike growing up. Baseball, football, birthdays were all marked by pictures. There was one of him in his baseball uniform standing in front of the infamous storage shed. (he and Terry used to 'shoot' Donna off of it) My favorite has to be one of him and Granny Ray grinning at each other the night he graduated from high school. Priceless. I wonder what the secret was? There's a picture of Mike, Donna, and Terry as little guys. Michael may have been five. I was mesmerized by their hands. Each little hand was telling its own story.
There were other photos. Several taken of Pop and Gram during happier times. The last few years so overshadowed my memories that I had forgotten other times--the good times.
I know everyone doesn't like to record memories the way I do. And really, I don't mean for this to be a Creative Memories commercial, but have you collected a few things and made notes about them? Some day your family will be going through your stuff. Will there be items there to remind them of the good times? Will there be pictures but no stories to go with them? The 'why' answered for the shared grin? I hope so. Today I was unexpectedly blessed by pictures from the past. It might have been better if there were a few stories written somewhere about those pictures!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)