Angry. Sad. Angry. Sad. Glad.

I am alternately angry and sad today.  I keep reminding myself that satan is a loser.  He does not win.  That is good and comforting truth for the long run, but here, today, in the short run, I'm just mad.  And sad.  He does not fight fair.  When I recognize the work of evil coming against me, I am annoyed.  I roll my eyes and feel foolish for letting my feathers get ruffled, and make a fresh determination to fix my eyes on Jesus.  Today, however, I recognize that someone near to me is under attack in a very unfair way, and I'm so angry.  And sad.  
I'd be angry and sad if it was just this one person.  But the fact that this comes after a string of similar stories coming from godly people all around me, just has me fit to be tied today.
And just when I think the anger or the sadness might take over, another emotions sneaks up on me.  Joy.
Here's the deal about spiritual warfare.  There's lots of stuff I don't know about it, but there's one thing I know for sure.  It only comes when I'm headed in the right direction.  Satan and his demons couldn't care less when I'm walking in disobedience or living a mediocre life that's not going to impact anyone here or in eternity.  And, the only way I can rejoice over that fact is when my relationship with Jesus is such that pleasing Him truly matters more to me than living in ease and without pain or trial.  And, I praise God that the friends I've shared that thought with today have agreed with me.  Jesus is better.

I John 4:4 Proverbs 18:10 I Peter 5:6-10 Matthew 5:12 II Timothy 3:12-4:5 Hebrews 1:2-3

Praying about Storms

I have a lot of family that live on the south Texas coast, all the way from South Padre Island to Corpus Christi to Houston.  I am naturally concerned anytime a hurricane enters the Gulf of Mexico, aware that someone about whom I care deeply could be affected.  This week, as the world watches Tropical Storm Alex travel into the Gulf, I have received a number of emails suggesting that we pray for it to miss the Rio Grande Valley or Corpus Christi, hoping that the trajectories showing the storm take a southern turn are correct.  And, it's occurred to me that this is a difficult thing for me to pray.  I can pray that my loved ones are safe.  I can pray that the storm dissipates in the Gulf.  I can pray that the winds die down or that structures withstand the force.  I cannot pray that the storm miss them and hit others, particularly, that it miss the US Coast and hit Mexico.  Not only does Mexico have a much higher poverty rate than most of the US, statistics say that less than 2% of its population claim to be born again Christians.  I cannot find it in me to pray for a devastating storm to pass over my loved ones who have means to protect themselves and/or get out of the way as well as eternal security in their relationship with Jesus Christ and hope that it strikes others much more likely to lose their homes and/or their lives with much higher consequences at stake.  I just can't do it.  :-/

Love and Humility

For someone who averages about one trip to the doctor's office every 12-18 months, 2010 is shaping up to be a very odd year.  In the first six months that I have lived alone, I've already been to the doctor 3 times for three very different issues, and I have had to ask for help from others on several different occasions.  It's never a good thing when the doctor looks at you and says, "You're single, right?  Live alone?  Do you have a very good friend nearby?":-/  Asking for help is hard enough. Asking for help when you're nauseated or in pain or need wound care at odd or inconvenient hours is an entirely different level of humility.  And, both times, I have come away from the experience with one repeating thought, "I have been loved well."  It's the only way I know to say it.  I am deeply moved by the realization that I have been blessed with friends who love me when I have absolutely nothing to give in return.  In those moments, I am completely without offering.  I feel terribly unworthy, unlovable -- and yet, that is when I know better, deeper, most profoundly that I am, in the most simple term, loved.  It seems to me that when we're "on top of the world" everyone "loves" us, but it's when we're hanging out in the depths that it is a priceless thing to find a friend still standing close.

Reflecting on the Beatitudes

<sup>Tonight at The Commons, we were "dragging the hook of the kingdom" through Matthew 5:1-10, more commonly known as The Beatitudes.  Corey, who was leading the conversation, did an excellent job of helping us gain a more clear understanding of what each of the statements means, 


Blessed are the poor in spirit, those who recognize their own poverty of spirit and need for a Savior</sup>
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven, they get to live in the present reality and future hope of God's reign.
Blessed are those who mourn, those who grieve over their sin and how it grieves the heart of God
for they will be comforted, they will know that God's grace is deeper than their sin.
Blessed are the meek, those who have a humble disposition before the Lord
for they will inherit the earth, they will be lifted up in due time. 
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those who seek God for relationship's sake rather than their own glory
for they will be filled, they will have as much of Him as they desire.
Blessed are the merciful, those who demonstrate toward others 
for the will be shown mercy, they will see understand with greater clarity the mercy they've been shown.
Blessed are the pure in heart, those whose heart intentions and actions are aligned with their desire to please God
for they will see God, they will recognize God at work in and around them and experience an increased intimacy with Him
Blessed are the peacemakers, those who actively strive to convey the message of reconciliation between God and man
for they will be called sons of God, they will be known as God's children carrying out His message.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, those who suffer for choosing to live rightly set apart as unto the Lord
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven, they live - both now and in eternity - under the blessed rule and reign of Christ.

The most profound thing that occurred to me tonight as we looked at this very familiar passage came toward the end of our conversation.  I'd been jotting down notes, and all of a sudden, I looked down the list of " "beatitudes" and noticed a pattern.  I believe there may very well be a progression as you move through the list.

Those who recognize their poverty of spirit, mourn over their sin, and therefore, adopt a disposition of humility before God.  The humbled and aware of their need, they hunger and thirst for right relationship with God.  Having been granted the the gift of that righteousness that is not their own but the gift of God, they freely demonstrate mercy toward others in need of the same gift.  Their righteousness allows them to approach God with purity of heart and mind and to commit themselves to proclaiming the message of peace with God (reconciliation) for which they are persecuted, yet able to rejoice having inherited an eternal reward.

I don't know if this makes sense to anyone else, but it really resonated with me.  As we looked over the list and began discussing which ones we were "good" at or "bad" at, I began to think about my own life and realize that until I truly understood "poor in Spirit" and my need for a Savior, I never stood a chance at understanding or developing anything else on the list.  I couldn't mourn over my sin apart from that understanding.  I couldn't be humble before the Lord as long as I was still clinging to pride.  I couldn't hunger and thirst for Christ's righteousness until I understood that I had none of my own.  I couldn't show mercy to others until I understood how much mercy I'd been shown.  I couldn't align my heart with my actions in a pure way before the Lord until I understood that obedience was about a desire to please Him not impress Him or others.  I couldn't actively proclaim the message of peace until I'd experienced genuine peace with God.  And, I'd never rejoice through persecution if I didn't consider the rule and reign of my precious Savior to be the utmost reward.

New Morning, New Attitude

Can I just say that I personally think one of the most brilliant things God ever did was create mornings?  I mean seriously.  We get to start over every single day.
I woke up this morning and not a single thing had changed about my circumstances and the things that had me so miserably frustrated last night, but somehow, knowing I had a whole new day to approach it energized me afresh.  I got to lay there before I even opened my eyes and repent of all of yesterday's temper tantrums and commit afresh to walking graciously through whatever today brings.  I got to wash my face and brush my teeth and pick out clean clothes and remind myself of all the things that do matter and repent of all the things that don't.
And, I was reminded of Psalm 17:15, As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness.

Some People Don't Believe I Get Grumpy

My morning began with the song "Blessed Be Your Name."  As we sang the line, Blessed be your name when the sun's shining down on me, when the world's all as it should be ... I thought, "Yes!  That's today, Lord.  Things are GOOD.  You are good.  Blessed be your name!"  I didn't think it lightly, either.  I've sung that song plenty of times with tears streaming down my face as I choked out the words Blessed be your name on a road marked with suffering, though there's pain in the offering, Blessed be your name. I never take for granted the days when I can sing the words with joy.  

After church, I met my mom and dad for lunch, and felt really privileged to be able to actually buy their meal for once!  We had a great visit, and I was in a great mood as I got back to my apartment early in the afternoon.

Then I discovered the broken hot water heater I called maintenance about had not been fixed.  And the cover to the light fixture in the shower was still laying on the bathroom floor.  Then I lost my phone and was forced to use facebook to find someone to call it for me which always frustrates me.  My day was going downhill fast.  I had a brief recovery when Erin and I made a trip to the mall for some window shopping and a snowcone.  But, I came back home to fix dinner and had a mom-question.  I reached for my phone, sitting on top of my purse on the counter just over my kitchen sink.  As I pulled the phone away from the purse, it slipped from my hand, bounced off the counter top, and dropped right to the bottom of the coffee pot full of water sitting in the sink.  And, now it is dead.  And, I am in a seriously foul mood.  And I can't even call and whine about it to anyone - which is by far the worst punishment for a verbal processor. 

Earlier, I was shopping online for a new laptop I've convinced myself I really do need.  Now, I'm shopping for a replacement phone instead because when I bought this one about 8 months ago, I told myself (and the store clerk) in one of my more genius moments that I didn't want insurance since I'd never used my cell phone insurance in the past and this was by far the cheapest phone I'd bought yet, so I definitely wasn't going to insure it.  Doh!

I want to just be grumpy.  I want to believe I have an excuse to just be grumpy.  And throw a big ol' pity party.  And wallow in it.  Dia would tell me to go in the closet and pick out a new attitude.  My mom would tell me to put my big girl panties on and deal with it.  My great grandmother would have told me I could get glad in the same clothes I got mad in.  Angela would tell me a sad story about finding a spider in her house, and hope feeling sorry for her made me feel less pitiful for me (it didn't).

And, all evening long, a bridge keeps playing in my head ... You give and take away, You give and take away, My heart will choose to say: Blessed be Your name! 

This is not a road marked with suffering.  It's just a hitch in my giddy-up.  I do think I'll go to bed early and hope things look better in the morning, though -- just in case. 

By the way, the hot water mysteriously started working again about 30 minutes ago.  

I Call Him Daddy

A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows,is God in his holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families,he leads forth the prisoners with singing ... Psalm 68:5-6

Father's Day sometimes makes me feel a little guilty.  I had no say in choosing my father, and yet, I managed to get one of the finest men around -- and I'm the ONLY one in the whole world who gets to call him Daddy.  It's staggering really when I think about it.  And, it makes me feel like I'm bragging when I talk about him - 'cause I kinda am.  


However, it's impossible in my line of work -- or really, just as a citizen of humanity -- not to think about those who don't have this wonderful swelling pride that bubbles up at Father's Day.  Unfortunately, I often feel like I know more people than not who don't exactly feel all warm and fuzzy when this day roles around. 

This year, as I've thought about something new I could say about my wondeful Dad, I've been thinking about his influence in the lives of others.  David Horton is a world class counselor, mentor, and friend.  And, he's funny.  People seek him out on a regular basis because of this.  And, he patiently listens and provides wise and gentle feedback. 

This Father's Day, I may be the only one who gets to call him "Daddy" but I am aware that there are many whom the Lord has blessed by placing him in their paths, giving them a surrogate father and family - some for a season, others for a life time.  And, I know, that like me, they too will have a clearer picture of their Heavenly Father because of it.

Coming Up Short

In the practice of confession this week, I was treading very slowly, choosing my words with extra care. My sister finally said, "spit it out, my ears can handle it!"  Chagrined, I admitted, "it's not your ears I worry about; it's my own dignity I'm still trying to preserve."  I've thought about that conversation a lot.  The absurdity of my attempts to confess my own wickedness while maintaining some semblance of respectability would be comical if it were not so pitiable.

She graciously heard what I needed to say, listened carefully, without passing judgment, then boiled it all down to a simple statement that I hope will haunt me for a long time to come.  "At some point, you're going to have to decide if you love your sin or if you love Christ."

I've known for a long time now that I am guilty of stopping short of radical.  I want enough of Jesus to be usable.  Even better, I want to be "blessable."  But, I always shy away from crossing the line into radical.
The problem is, there's no such thing.  I've drawn a false line.  I can't be usable or blessable without being radical.  I can be dignified.  I can have the respect of persons.  I can own nice things.  I can hold honored positions. I can bask in my meager accomplishments.  But, I cannot be Spirit-filled, Christlike, God-glorifiying without full surrender of myself, my will, and my delusions of dignity.

It is a strange thing to fear and yet crave the humbling that I know must come.  I cannot pray daily to love what God loves and hate what He hates, then expect that He would allow any amount of pride to go unmortified.

May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world. Galatians 6:14

Adventures in Volunteer Direction

At the very top of the application we have all new volunteers fill out, there are three blanks:

Date of Application: ___________ Orientation: ________________ Tour: ___________________

To be fair, most people don't know what to put in those second two categories, so they generally leave them blank.  (They are places for me to mark the date and initials of the person who provides the volunteer orientation and tour.)

Occasionally, though, some over-achiever decides to think really hard and make their best guess at what goes in those blanks.  Generally, I get a "yes" or "no" next to the tour line, and more often than you'd imagine I get the word "straight" next to orientation.  Today, however, I picked up an application with the word "black" next to orientation.

Seriously?  A) I don't think it's remotely appropriate or necessary for me to know someone's race or ethnicity in order for them to volunteer for us.  B)  If I were going to ask for that information in an application, would I really put it on the very top line of the form?  And refer to it as "orientation"?  Really???

And I was worried my job wouldn't be as interesting working with volunteers rather than clients ...

Papa's Antics

It has been well-documented on this blog that I love my Papa -- and that I might be a little bit like him.  This weekend, my family is gathering to celebrate my cousin Gina's wedding, and the festivities began today.  While I arrived in Harlingen this morning, I didn't get to see Papa until dinner time.  But, in the last four hours, he's provided more bloggable entertainment than I'll ever be able to record if I wait until I get home!

1.  He showed up at dinner with a mini satellite TV in his shirt pocket.  FOX News was glowing from his chest, and blaring, but he was so wound up, he didn't even hear it, just kept talking over it until we asked him to turn it down.  Then, he muted the TV but left it turned on and kept right on talking.  Karen captured the moment for me -- if you look closely at Papa's left shirt pocket, you'll see what I'm talking about. (Pay no attention to Gina -- not only is she the bride, today was also her birthday, so she was hamming it up!)

2.  Papa was so excited about meeting new "family" -- Gina's in-laws -- that he talked nonstop throughout our entire meal.  The rest of us were eating ice cream before he'd even looked down to take a bite. At one point, Uncle Vance, stole his plate.  When Papa looked down, a little confused, Nana asked him, "Gene, did you eat your sandwich?"  And he honestly said, "I don't know.  I think I might have."  LOL!  We packed the sandwich up in a to-go box, and he brought it home, then offered it to me as a late night snack -- it's still sitting on the counter.

3.  On the ride home from dinner Papa informed me that he's got someone he wants me to meet.  I'm thinking a lady in their church who does women's ministry or something like this ... He then proceeds to tell me about a "fine young man" in their congregation that loves Jesus.  Papa knows this because this man carries his Bible with him (to church) and it looks like it's been used.  He hopes this man will come to Gina's wedding because Papa invited him.  Those of you who think match-making parents are trouble -- just wait till your grandparents get in on the game!

4.  At the house, where Nana and Papa have lived for a good 25 years, he proceeded to show me the way around, including lessons on how to leave the light on in the bathroom in case I think I might need it in the middle of the night, how to turn the a/c up and down, and how to use their home phone (even after I told him I had my cell phone with me). 

5.  Nana and I were sitting on my bed visiting when Papa came to get me to rescue him from his "computer emergency."  He'd somehow gotten a folder full of pictures stuck in the sidebar of his desktop and couldn't figure out how to get it off there.  He said he let it frustrate him for a few days, then he remembered "the cavalry is coming" and waited for me to arrive.  I figured it out relatively quickly, and he thanked me at least 5 times and told me how proud he is of me before he went to bed.  It's the little things, I guess.

6.  As he was shutting things down for the night, he told me NOT to turn the TV off in the living room (the one beside the "happy tree" aka: Christmas Tree that hasn't been taken down yet) -- said when he turns it off, it gets fuzzy and has to be reset, then he winked and told me, "Besides, when it dies, I can buy a new one ... a bigger one!" 

This is just Day One, folks.

In Case You Need to Be Reminded

I am blessed to work in a place where people pray together, regularly.  Each Wednesday morning, we are invited to meet together for prayer and devotions led by various staff members.  Today, our administrative assistant shared from Isaiah 41:18-20, then read the quote copied below.  If you’re in need today of a reminder of just how extravagant God’s love and care for you are, I cannot encourage you strongly enough to shut your doors, turn down your music, and read these words aloud. 


I will make rivers flow on barren heights, 
and springs within the valleys. 
I will turn the desert into pools of water, 
and the parched ground into springs.


I will put in the desert 
the cedar and the acacia, the myrtle and the olive. 
I will set pines in the wasteland, 
the fir and the cypress together,


so that people may see and know, 
may consider and understand, 
that the hand of the LORD has done this, 
that the Holy One of Israel has created it. - Isaiah 41:18-20


We are profoundly impressed with the unlimited resources of the God of the Bible.  He never does anything small.  When He makes an ocean He makes it so deep that no man can fathom it.  When He makes a mountain He makes it so large that no one can measure or weigh it.  When He makes flowers, He scatters multiplied millions of them where there is no one to admire them but Himself.  When He makes grace, He makes it without sides or bottom and leaves the top off.  Instead of giving salvation with a medicine dropper, He pours it forth like a river. 


When God sets out to do a thing for us, He does it with a prodigality of love-prompted abundance that fairly staggers one who reckons things by the coldly calculating standards of earth.

Lettie B. Cowman (1870-1960)