Thankful Thursday...or Friday

Yep, I did it again. I’m a day late for Thankful Thursday. But since it’s my blog and I get to make the rules, I’m saying it’s all good (It's good to be queen :-) Here’s what I’m thankful for this week:

1. I’m thankful that my dad and I went out to dinner this week. Just the two of us. We enjoyed a good meal and free flowing conversation…so much so we closed the restaurant. It’s not something we normally do, but I’m so glad we did.
   
   
2. I’ve been feeling crappy for over a week and am thankful I’m going to the doctor today. I’ve self-diagnosed myself with piglet flu (a minor version of swine flu). I’m also thanking God in advance for a super-strength cough medicine that will tame this monster cough.
   
   
3. I’m thankful I go to a mission-minded church. This past weekend we collected 90 Thanksgiving baskets for two local aid organizations. Even given the poor economy, our church family responded generously, giving 10% more baskets than last year.
   On Tuesday, two of my friends and I helped deliver baskets to Interfaith Housing Group, one of the organizations our church was supporting. We were incredibly blessed to meet Interfaith’s coordinator, hear a bit of her remarkable story and learn about the grass-roots organization. Our church was the only one who gave Thanksgiving baskets to Interfaith and as a result 60+ of their client families will now enjoy a delicious, nutritious, home cooked meal on Thanksgiving. Think of all the churches all over the country reaching out in the same way—and how many families will be reached as a result. Remarkable!
   
   
4. I’m keenly aware that life ebbs and flows, especially as a parent, but I’m so thankful my kids are doing well this year in school. Both are thriving in their new schools (middle school and high school), embracing the workload and meeting new friends.

5. I’m thankful my husband made it home last night from a business trip to Atlanta. After an FAA glitch froze all air travel in the morning, bad weather in Philadelphia added further delays in the evening and a seating snafu left him without a seat, I was happy he arrived home, late and worn out, but safe.

Of course Thanksgiving is next week, so all our thoughts will turn to counting our blessings. I'll consider this a warm-up.

What are you thankful for this week?

"Never walk away from someone who deserves help; your hand is God's hand for that person. Don't tell your neighbor 'Maybe some other time' or 'Try me tomorrow' when the money's right there in your pocket." (Proverbs 3:27-28, MSG)

Visit Truth 4 the Journey for more Thankful Thursday.

Book Review: Kabul24

You might say you have faith. But how would you respond if God called you to the mission field…to a country hostile to Christians…like Afghanistan? What if you said yes, and after years of humanitarian work the Taliban destroys it all in minutes…and takes you and your co-workers hostage…and imprisons you in some of the most sqaulid prisons in the country?

Would you drown in a sea of despair? Or would you cling to hope?

Kabul24 tells such a tale. Eight Christian men and women from Western countries and sixteen native Afghanis worked side by side to provide humanitarian aid to Afghan refugees. By feeding, teaching, housing and loving these displaced people, Shelter Now International didn’t preach the gospel, they lived it.

They were peacemakers and problem solvers in a country filled with chaos and conflict. Yet that didn’t matter to the Taliban. In 2001 the Taliban wanted to rid the country of anyone who posed, or seemed to pose, a threat to their rule or Islam. Topping their list was Shelter Now International.

With little warning, the Taliban kidnapped the SNI workers, destroyed their projects, and held them in prisons filled with filth and fear. The SNI Eight, as they called themselves, lived with complete uncertainty about their future. Then the 9/11 attacks occurred and they found themselves behind enemy lines and at the epicenter of the massive Allied bombing raids that followed. Death, at the hands of the Taliban or from Allied bombs, seemed a given.

The SNI Eight lived a daily diet of terror. But in the midst of captivity, they didn’t just survive, they thrived. With an unshakable faith in the sovereign hand of God, they sang, read the Bible, prayed and worshipped in their tiny cells. They lifted each other up and clung to hope that God would deliver them.

Kabul24 is the remarkable true account of faith and hope despite circumstances and likely outcomes. While the writing is clumsy at times, the writers paint a fascinating picture of an Afghanistan you won’t read about in the news and give a fly-on-the-wall look at the Taliban and the Muslim culture—very important insights for the world we live in.

Inspirational, informative and riveting, I thoroughly enjoyed reading Kabul24 and highly recommend it.

100% Fat-free Truth

I posted this devotional at Exemplify Online this week.


“Test everything. Hold on to the good.” (1 Thessalonians 5:21)

With hot coffee in hand I looked for the amenities to make my java light and sweet just the way I like it. Hmm, let’s see…sugar, milk, fat-free half and half. Fat-free half and half?! I scratched my head in confusion. How can this be?

Just as its name suggests, half and half contains two ingredients, milk and cream. Half of one, half of the other. That’s why it’s so creamy and delicious—and fattening. It simply cannot be low fat.

But the impostor creamer looked like half and half, it smelled like half and half, and the package said it actually was half and half. So it must be. Right? Read more…

The Insignificance Antidote

The blog’s been quiet lately. The words haven’t been there. The ideas not fully formed. The confidence waning.

The silence has caused me to ask once again, “Why do I blog? Am I wasting my time?”

Do you have any idea how many Christian blogs there are? So many lovely, women (and men) tapping away at their keyboards sharing their hearts, insights, experiences, tips and even recipes.

I don’t do well in crowds. I tend to let the most vocal/entertaining/charming take over while I quietly step away and observe.

There are plenty of bloggers out there far more talented, outgoing and engaging than me. Some attract quite a crowd. I pretend I don’t notice or it doesn’t matter, but I do and it does. Not because it’s a competition (although I’m extremely competitive, so maybe it is), but because I wonder, “Why not me?”

In the blogging venue, in particular, I lose track of what’s important. I take my eyes off Jesus and put them on me. I check, compare, measure how I stack up against others. I tie my value to how many readers/comments/hits/ followers I have. And I think others do it so much better, so why bother.

I wonder, Do I add anything to my little corner of the blogosphere? Do others see God through my words or am I adding to the noise? If I quietly stepped away would anyone even notice?

Typically this is when I’d cue the violins to add background music for a big ol’ pity party. But, I refuse to go there—or send out invitations. But, I stand at the edge of the pit, knowing how easy it is to fall or be pushed in.

I have listened to enough heart-to-heart conversations and observed enough life around me to know that for many of us, our greatest fear is being insignificant. That we don't matter. We fear that at the end of the day our contributions won’t make a difference and if we quietly stepped away few would notice.

The enemy loves this kind of attitude. He schemes for ways to push us to the sidelines so we wallow in doubt, fear, anxiety, jealousy and depression. Because when we’re there, we can’t do much good for the Kingdom. Satan’s done his job.

Well, we have a choice—to struggle in our humanity or reach for the divine.

When Jesus came He didn’t seek out the most popular, charming, attractive or qualified. He went to the sidelines and picked from the cast offs. To them He said, “Come, follow me.” (Matthew 4:19) And when they did, He used them for great things. But let's not forget how much His followers struggled with doubt, fear, rejection, pain, discouragement and much more.

It looks like we’re in good company!

Once again on this writing journey, I’m faced with a choice: to give up because the road’s not filled with applause or press on in the silence.

Why do I blog? Because God’s given me an ability to write and for now it’s one way I can, and I’ve connected with wonderful people—friends—who keep me coming back. I believe God cares more that I’m faithful with the gifts He’s given me than how large my audience is. Because even if I reach just one, isn't that enough?

From time to time I need these wake-up calls to reassess and refocus. I need the reminder that one day I’ll stand before my Maker and account for my life. He'll ask, “What have you done with the talents I entrusted to you?” (Matthew 25:14-30)

Will my answer bring condemnation like the foolish servant who dug a hole and hid his talents out of fear and returned exactly what he'd been given... or applause like the good and faithful servant who doubled what he'd been given?

When we live a life set on multiplying the gifts God's given us surely we've discovered the best insignificance antidote out there.

Lord, I pray as I write, talk and serve that my sole purpose is to make your name famous. Extract me from my need for acceptance, admiration and accomplishment. Help me set my sights on you and you alone.

How are you investing the talents God’s given you? Even the tiniest pebble thrown into a pond ripples far beyond the point of impact.

photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/hebergersite/3630587687/

What’s Old is New

Ever since my son was little he’s been banging out the beat of his internal soundtrack on his highchair, the kitchen table, the walls, whatever. When the time came for him to try out to play drums in the school band, we weren’t surprised he made it. “You were made to play the drums,” I told him.

This summer Dan and I took the plunge and bought him a full drum set. Honestly I think playing the drums ranks up at the top of “cool things to know how to do” and the idea of watching my son play in a band makes me giddy.

Although before the band comes the practice. Well…I thought one snare drum was loud. Ha! An entire drumset shakes the house of its foundation! I’m constantly yelling down to the basement, “Are you practicing or just playing as loudly as you can?”

Yesterday was a big day. After weeks of learning rolls and combinations his drum teacher introduced an actual song. As I sat upstairs waiting during his lesson, I wondered what song it might be. Soon the all-too-familiar piano intro from Bob Seger’s Old Time Rock and Roll reached my ears and transported me all the way back to 1983.

Filled with nostalgia, I vividly recalled a certain handsome young man sliding across his living room flood clad in an oxford cloth short and tighty-whities, lip synching, dancing and playing air guitar. I chuckled at the memory. Oh, to be young again!

On the drive home I asked my son, “Had you ever heard that song before?”

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Did you know it was popular when I was a kid?” And I explained the iconic scene that remains forever embedded in my youth.

Recognition sparked and he replied, “Yeah, that’s how it was when David Archuleta did it.”

“David Archuleta?!”

“On the Guitar Hero commercial,” he said.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, “Oh, there’s so much I still need to teach you!”

As I evolve in my faith I’m constantly discovering new truths and insights and finding new ways to worship, pray and understand. How easily I forget that while this journey is new to me, I walk the same path as centuries of believers who came before. As the Bible says, “we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith.” (Hebrews 12:1, NLT)

Like with music and art, each generation looks to find Jesus in ways that resonate with their circumstances and experiences. We rediscover, redefine, reinvent—what’s old is new and what’s new is old. We add our voice to the conversation.

Thankfully while our points of view may change with the times, God doesn’t. He's remains the great I Am, yesterday, today and tomorrow.

I imagine visiting with saints of yore—like Oswald Chambers, Martin Luther, St. Augustine and the apostle Paul—and sharing the new things happening in my faith and in my church.

With an eye roll one would say, “That?! We were doing that when I was a youngster back in 300A.D.!

Then they’d chuckle and chime in, “Stick with us kid, there’s so much we need to teach you!”

There is a Season

Thank you for your compassion, sympathy, and caring comments and emails on my last two posts. I shared them with Kirsten’s husband John. You blessed him. And you blessed me.


Day and night.
Spring and fall.
Hello and goodbye.
Laughter and tears.
Love and loss.
Birth and death.

Life ebbs and flows. Bringing the good with the bad, the abundant with the lean. Giving and taking away. Again and again.

For better or worse, nothing remains the same.

Some moments/days/seasons shine in unending brilliance. Others bring storm after storm that drench/disorient/destroy. Some people get more of one than the other, without explanation or fairness. I don’t know why, I just know that it is.

This weekend I witnessed the highest highs and lowest lows. By Monday my insides felt buffeted and bruised, yet bolstered. My emotions stretched to their limits.

On Saturday we laid to rest our dear friend Kirsten. A blanket of grief covered the service and we all cried a river of tears. Our hearts breaking for her family, lost without their center. But the Spirit of God moved among us, bringing hope and peace despite the circumstances. I saw faith.

The next day Dan and I attended the wedding of friends—giddy in love with each other, but even more in love with Jesus. Their passion contagious to all who gathered. Family and friends sharing tears of joy. Parents saying goodbye. Young lovers starting anew. I saw hope.

On Monday, we welcomed a new little one into our family. The miracle of new life so perfect and pure. This sweet blessing from above bringing joy and hope and the promise of new beginnings. I saw love.

In three days, in the best and the worst, I saw our humanity intertwined with the divine. I felt the touch of the Almighty.

You and I are part of something much larger than ourselves. We journey together, connected by hearts and history and happenstance. Life ebbs and flows, sometimes seeming random, chaotic, unfair, lucky or fated. But as the Bible says,

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1-9)

Even though we cannot fully understand God’s ways or timing, it doesn’t make His plans any less perfect. Or His presence any less real. In every time there is love—from our heavenly Father and from one another. One day the tides of life will end and El Roi, the God who sees, will wipe the tears from our eyes. “There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (Rev. 21:4)

Life ebbs and flows, and love holds it together.

Into the Arms of Jesus

Yesterday Jesus called home our dear friend Kirsten.

Surrounded by the love of her husband, daughters and our pastor, and covered in prayer, she passed from this life into the embrace of our heavenly Father. A moment filled with overwhelming sadness, but also incredible beauty.

During her lengthy, but dignified battle with cancer, her church family, neighbors, long-time friends and many others surrounded Kirsten and her family with an outpouring of love shown through home made meals, prayers, visits, child care, hand holding, hugs and tears. All these actions stand as vivid testimony to her joyful, generous and grace-filled spirit. She loved freely and laughed often (long before these phrases became cliché). Though her time with us was cut short, Kirsten leaves behind a legacy of a life well-lived and well-loved. She was a friend to all, best friend to many.

Kirsten battled this dreaded disease the same way she lived her life—with grace and dignity. And by her, and her husband John’s, courageous and faith-filled example, showed us how to do the same. A lesson we’d rather not have learned, but one that will likely serve us well in the future.

I feel so blessed to have known Kirsten and call her friend. I'm humbled to have been invited into the sacred spaces of her last days. And I am overwhelmed that God prepared my heart, bolstered my faith and allowed me the privilege to enter into this experience because several years I couldn’t have. It would have been too much.

Death is unfamiliar territory for me. As the reality of loss began to sink in this morning, I thought about her husband and young daughters. I wondered how the sun had the audacity to rise. How could birds and squirrels forage for food? People scurry about their business? Life continue on? Don't they know?

It is the beginning of a new normal. We will never know this side of heaven “Why?” But I have faith that even this God will redeem for His glory. I have seen glimpses of that already.

Kirsten’s passing leaves a hole that we will forever hold dear—a space of joy and laughter and love. I’m sure she entered the gates of heaven and found Jesus waiting to welcome her home, “Kirsten, my child. Well done, good and faithful servant.”