Baseball?

I've taken a lot of (good-natured) teasing recently about my new interest in the Texas Rangers.  Admittedly, I'm a bandwagon fan.  I didn't begin paying attention until they began winning consistently and the season got exciting last summer/fall.

However, the idea that I hate baseball is one I frequently have to put down.  I do not (nor have I ever) hated baseball.  I've known very little about baseball.  I've understood very little about baseball.  I've had few reasons to be interested in baseball.  Hate is a strong word; apathetic would be a more appropriate term for my attitude toward baseball in the past.

Here's the deal, even now, as much as I'm enjoying the Rangers and keeping up with their season, it's got very little to do with a newfound love for baseball.  I'll tell you a secret about me, and if you can keep this one in mind, it'll unlock many mysteries concerning me.  I love people.  Period.

In this current season of my life, I am surrounded (constantly, it seems) by baseball loving fanatics.  They watch baseball, they go to baseball games, they talk about baseball, they even play fantasy baseball.  And, I love these people.  I think they're pretty fun and cool and interesting people, and I enjoy being around them.  So, I am learning about baseball.  And, surprisingly, it's been kind of interesting.  There's a lot more strategy and skill to the game than I ever imagined.  But, the joy in it for me is getting to participate in something for which the people I love have a passion.

Spark St Louis Trip Report

Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in Him, for He shelters [her] all day long. The one the Lord loves rests between His shoulders.  Deuteronomy 33:12

Spark St. Louis was my third Spark adventure, and I'm noticing a theme.  Each trip is the "best ever."  They just keep getting better.

Let me begin by saying that the prayer support we felt throughout this weekend was remarkable.  As a team, we felt held together by God Himself.  We sensed His beautiful presence in so many of our moments together with the girls at Mercy Ministries.  24 of us traveled to St. Louis physically, but hundreds went with us spiritually.

Several things made this trip different than others.  First, the fact that Mercy has such a young population.  Working with women who are 18-28 and have their whole lives ahead of them was so cool.  Working with such young women who've been wounded in such profound ways was also heartbreaking.  Second, being at Mercy is a choice for these women.  Each of them has willfully chosen to be there, and is working hard at recovery and healing every single day.  That desire to be free deeply impacts they way they listen to and respond to the messages we share about their identity in Christ and all that He has for them.  Third, the staff at Mercy are amazing, and their support of us and all that we were doing with the girls was such a boost!

Reasons I love Spark Ministry and am so grateful I got to be in St. Louis this weekend:

1.  Baby Sparks!  We had no fewer than 9 first timers on this trip, and I had the privilege of being the "BabySpark Herder" much of the time -- riding in the van with most of them and encouraging them throughout the weekend.  Four of them were young women in their early twenties, two of them Mercy graduates themselves.  And, they did serve beautifully.  I was in awe of how they stepped up and worked hard and shared their own lives and testimonies so courageously.  

2.  Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion. -- Steel Magnolias.  Spark trips are filled with emotion.  Spark women are some of the most alive women I've ever had the privilege of knowing.  They laugh freely, never taking themselves seriously, but always taking any opportunity to have fun very seriously.  They are truly Proverbs 31:25 kind of women, "She is clothed with strength and dignity. She laughs without fear of the future."  Our work is weighty, but we never lose sight of the fact that God is on His throne and He makes all things beautiful.  

3.  Transparency.  Spark is made up of some of the most real women I've ever known.  Every single one of them is remarkable in her own right, and none of them bears any pretense when serving.  This weekend alone, the testimonies we heard from Spark team members were of sexual abuse, eating disorders, unplanned pregnancy, loss of a spouse, loss of a parent, unforgiveness, anger with God, and the illness of a child.  The way that God seemed to demolish emotional and spiritual barriers through the words of these brave testimonies was a powerful thing to watch.  For we were not making up clever stories when we told you about the powerful coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. We saw his majestic splendor with our own eyes, II Peter 1:16

4.  Adopt-a-Sister.  What a gift to be able to tell those women that they were being prayed for by name throughout our time together.  The way that reality would sink in then light up their faces was priceless!  Being able to hug them and whisper the name of the person praying for them was so very sweet.   Later this week or next, they will receive  notes of encouragement from the friends who adopted them in prayer, a pick-me-up reminder that they are thought of and prayed for by people they've never even met!

5.  Transformation.  My favorite small group session is the last one on Sunday.  That's when I get to ask the girls a simple question, "A year from now when you've forgotten our names, what are you going to remember about this weekend?"  To hear them talk about encountering the extravagant love of God, realizing that God is a fun God who does permit laughter and dancing, to hear them talk about truly experiencing the freedom of being able to forgive someone who had wronged them deeply, or to hear that even though they don't yet feel lovable the weekend made them want to keep fighting for that peace makes it all so very worthwhile. 

All the Posts I'm Not Writing

This morning, I've got a number of thoughts rattling around in my head that I'd love to have time to write about, but truthfully, I just don't have it in me to develop any of them more fully at the moment.

1.  My devotional reading this morning was about faith and works, and it included Luke 6:46, "Why do you call me 'Lord, Lord,' but do not do what I say?"  What a heart breaking question from Jesus to his disciples, to me.  Faith demands obedience.  I speak volumes about my faith and the object of my faith when I refuse to obey.

2. The scripture memory verse I'm working on right now is Psalm 119:7 from the NLT, "As I learn your righteous regulations, I will thank you by living as I should!"  Again, true faith and obedience cannot be separated.

3.  Jeremy Powell is having brain surgery this morning to remove an infectious mass.  As I pray for him, my temptation is to simply pray that he be healed, but I keep remembering the night we gathered to pray before I left on a mission trip to China several years back.  Jeremy stubbornly refused to pray for my safety, but boldly prayed that God be glorified in whatever way He saw best, and that I be granted the faith and grace and courage to stand up under any trial or opportunity to declare God's glory.  So, today, I do pray for a successful surgery, for the doctors' steady hands, and for Jeremy and his family to have opportunity to exalt the Lord before a watching medical community.

4.  Last night I listened as a woman who was widowed unexpectedly while she still had three kids at home then watched her teenage son battle cancer just a few years later talked about how she feels blessed to have opportunity serve and minister to women who haven't had lives as "easy" as ours (indicating all the women in the room, including me).  I was truly in awe.

5.  The quote on my calendar for April 11 says, "What God gives in answer to our prayers will always be the thing we most urgently need, and it will always be sufficient."  Elisabeth Elliot  A response to that quote could take up several posts if I had the time.

That is all.  For now.

Faithful Wounds

Faithful are the wounds of a friend;

but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful.

Proverbs 27:6

If you and I have been friends for any amount of time, this verse has probably come into play at least once, probably more.  I have a habit of being a very straight-talker.  I learned a long time ago that it was better, more productive to speak honestly in friendship, even when it hurts.  I want to love you enough to let you be mad at me.  I'd rather say something and be wrong about a situation than to not say anything in loving caution and be right, letting you walk blindly into a painful experience.  

I often ask myself what it looks like to love another well.  What does faithfulness look like?  I wish it meant just agreeing with every decision they make and encouraging any path they choose.  It doesn't.  More often, loving someone well means speaking hard truths, asking difficult or uncomfortable questions, gently but consistently insisting on their best over their comfort.  

Why am I bringing this up now?  Gratitude.

One of the keys to making this kind of friendship work is making it a two-way street.  I've got to be willing to receive as good as I give.  I've purposefully surrounded myself with people who value this principle as much as I do, and recently, I've had several potentially painful conversations with people who loved me enough to risk upsetting me.  Faithful friends.  In each case I come away feeling absolutely rich, blessed beyond measure to have friends so deeply committed to God's best in and for my life.  

Faith and Prayer

I haven't had much blogginess in me lately.  The things the Lord is working out in me have often left me speechless lately.  Literally.  However, one of my joys in this season is leading a group of women on Monday nights through a study called "Becoming a Woman of Faith."  This study has challenged all of us in profound ways at different points.  Today, as I prepare to meet with them again, I came across the following quotes, and just couldn't not share.  Hope you're blessed and challenged by them as I have been.

But I will tell you where that faith will be born, and grow big and lusty - in the heart of every one who goes off quietly every day into the quiet place with the Book, and bent knee and the bent will.  Into that heart there will come the quiet assurance that what you are asking He is doing. - S.D. Gordon

To venture to pray requires our trust in the goodness of God. ... It is not the amount of my faith that matters, but where my faith is placed - in a God who makes no mistakes, who is always working for the highest and best for His children.  ... Sometimes our faith can move mountains; sometimes it can only reach out and touch the hem of His garment; sometimes it simply cries out for mercy - but in all prayers of faith, in some measure, the true healing is that our eyes are opened and we see the Lord. - C. Heald

Questions We Will Be Discussing Tonight:

How is our faith impacted by the time we spend with God?
What needs, situations, or circumstances bring us repeatedly to God?
What does it mean to ask "in Jesus name" or "according to His will"?
Do our prayers for others reflect the heart of God for His people? (Ephesians 3:14-19; Colossians 1:9-12; Ephesians 6:18-20)
How might God's glory be displayed in our weaknesses, trials, or struggles?

Shout Out

Today's post is a HAPPY BIRTHDAY shout out to my friend and fellow-blogger, Keri!

While Keri and I knew one another in college, it's been post-college through the magic of blogs and social media that we've been able to truly connect and find many commonalities for which I am so gratefully blessed. She is a dear encourager and someone who continually points me back to Jesus and His grace.

Happy Birthday, Dear Keri!

Happy Birthday to you!!!

A Pathway Through the Sea

A massive earthquake struck Japan early this morning and triggered a devastating tsunami across the Pacific.

I awoke this morning feeling so thankful to have made it to Friday.  This week was a rough one at work, nothing completely out of the ordinary, but busier, more draining than most weeks.  I remember thinking on Tuesday night, "This is the LONGEST week ever."  So, Friday morning seemed like some sort of triumph.  Then, I began hearing the reports on the radio.  When I got to work, I pulled up raw video footage of the massive waves spilling across the city.  Loss. Wreckage. Devastation.

A sinking feeling settled in my gut.  A heaviness pressed against my chest.  The heart that felt so light only hours ago, is weighed down by sadness for a terror-struck people.

Godly friends are already posting on Facebook and Twitter, prayers for the people of Japan and Hawaii and any others who might be affected, verses about God being a refuge when the mountains tremble.  I began doing my own word search through scripture, not entirely sure what I hoped to find.  Compassion.

I need God to be bigger than my sorrow today.  I need Him to be bigger than my questions, my doubts, my fears, and my sadness.  The song playing in my speakers right now says, "No matter where I am, healing is in Your hands."  I need to know that the God who allowed that devastation to break the people of Japan will also have compassion on them, help them, and heal them.  And, I need to know that even today, He is good.

My searching led me to Psalm 77:9, "Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has He slammed the door on His compassion?" 


It was like the Psalmist had read my mind.  Knew the dark and troubled thoughts twisting my insides out this morning.  I scanned up to the top of the chapter and continued reading ...

I cry out to God; yes, I shout. Oh, that God would listen to me! ... I think of God and I moan, overwhelmed with longing for His help.
Is His unfailing love gone for ever? Have His promises permanently failed?
Has the Lord forgotten to be gracious? Has He slammed the door on His compassion?
But then, I recall all You have done, O LORD; I remember Your wonderful deeds of long ago.
O, God, Your ways are holy. Is there any god as mighty as You?
You are the God of great wonders! You demonstrate Your awesome power among the nations!
Your road led through the sea, Your pathway through the mighty waters - a pathway no one knew was there!
Psalm 77:1,3,8-9,11,13,19

God, you are intimately acquainted with every man, woman, and child in the affected areas.  You see every suffering soul, and you long to be gracious; you rise to show compassion (Is. 30;18). God, today, I am choosing to believe that you are good, that your compassion never fails, that you will cut a pathway through these mighty waters, one I cannot see today, one that will lead to deliverance.  Rescue, Lord. Rescue.

Still Trying to Make It About Me

This morning, I was thinking about something I should be doing.  I was thinking about how nobody else would know or care that I hadn't done it yet, but somehow I still felt guilty.  Immediately, James 4:17 came to mind.  "He who knows the good he ought to do, but does not do it, sins."  And, on the heels of that thought was annoyance.  I can't win for losing.  It's sin if I do the bad things.  It's sin if I don't do the good things.  Opportunities to sin abound in such a way that I just can't seem to escape them. God, you just made it too hard for me!


At that point, I guess He'd had enough of my whining because I was swiftly reminded of a very important Truth: It's not about me.

What was it I blogged just yesterday?  The same King who determined the price of my sin also provided the payment for my sin.  Salvation begins and ends with Him.  "You did not choose me, but I have chosen you ..."  "We love because He first loved us ..."  

Yes, it's true, there are countless ways for me to daily transgress against a Holy God.  The Law is there to make sure I understand what the standard is and just how far short I fall of meeting it.  "But, thanks be to God who gives us victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."  


"And you were dead in your trespasses and sins ... BUT GOD, being rich in mercy because of the great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ ..."

Sin abounds.  It's there whether I willfully choose it, stumble into it, negligently commit it.  But, grace abounds so much greater.  Grace.  Undeserved and freely given.  Grace, greater than all my sin.  Grace that begins in and proceeds from the heart of God.  It is NOT about me, but I am so thankful it flows over me.

More Than a King

I've had two very different praise songs stuck in my head off and on for the last several weeks.  The first is Fee's "Rise and Sing."  The line I get stuck on is "If you've been touched by the Mercy King, rise and sing! Rise and sing!"  The other is Hillsong's "Saviour King" a song about Christ bearing the weight of our sin on the cross.

What's been strange is that sometimes, I'll hear one song but soon afterward find myself singing the other as if they were interchangeable. If you know these two songs, you know they sound nothing alike.  I finally realized that I've linked the ideas of Savior King and Mercy King in my head.  The idea that God was not willing to simply be the Sovereign Ruler and Judge, but chose to take on the role of Merciful Savior captivates me.

She probably won't remember this, but many years ago, Crista Bailey was helping lead University Sunday School worship and shared her thoughts with us one morning before we sang the song Amazing Love which contains the lyric "Amazing love, how can it be that you my King would die for me?"  She talked about how in all of history, men died fighting for their kings, but King Jesus came and died for His people.  It was one of the first times I remember clearly being struck by the magnificent reversal of the Gospel.

We have a King who determined the price of our freedom, then provided the payment with His very own blood.  He is Savior and King.  He is Merciful beyond our wildest comprehension.  He, who alone is worthy to be highly exalted, chose the role of Servant and Sacrifice on our behalf.

You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had.

 Though he was God,

      he did not think of equality with God

      as something to cling to.

  Instead, he gave up his divine privileges;

      he took the humble position of a slave

      and was born as a human being.

   When he appeared in human form,

    he humbled himself in obedience to God

      and died a criminal’s death on a cross.

 Therefore, God elevated him to the place of highest honor

      and gave him the name above all other names,

 that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,

      in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

 and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,

      to the glory of God the Father.

Philippians 2:5-11

The End of V-Day

Some mornings start out gloriously, yet the day ends in a tangled mess of minor tragedies.  I hate those days.  Some mornings start out horrifically, yet somehow at the end of the day, you fall asleep with a contented smile.  I much prefer those days.

Valentine's Day feels like a mine field to me.  Most years I tolerate it without a strong opinion one way or the other.  I smile indulgently at those who feel the need to publicly proclaim their affections, try not to roll my eyes at those who claim to be "dating Jesus", and refuse to jump on the bitter bandwagon of those who rant against it all.  Still, every so often I wake on this day, and my normally level-headed, rational self has been invaded by a 20 year old drama queen who isn't capable of truth-centered thinking to save her life.  Today was one of those Valentine's Days.  

I had a foreboding feeling when I checked the mail last night and my annual "You'll always be my Valentine" card from Dad wasn't there.  To be fair, I generally laugh at that card and tell him I'm afraid he might be right.  I might always be exclusively his Valentine.  But, secretly, I love that he takes the time to pick out a card and address it in his own handwriting and tell me I'm special at least to one man on this planet.  But, last night, the mailbox was void of any personal mail, and dread set in.

This morning, I wasn't fully awake when my phone rang.  "Dad" calling.  It was the confirmation I was afraid of, no card was in the mail, just an early morning wake up call as an attempt to make up for the oversight.  I don't like to be awakened by anything other than quietly playing music, so a ringing phone with an overly jovial parent pestering me just because he can was not a great beginning.  (Sidenote: My dad is on the very short list of people in this world who know exactly what my buttons are and how to push them in perfect sequence to elicit a fullblown emotional display.  Admittedly, this can be funny, but it's also seriously annoying.)

As I rolled slowly out of bed and began my morning routine, the drama queen took over in my thoughts.  Oh, the lies she tells.  She's ridiculous, and I'm ridiculous for entertaining her.  She exhausts me.  She is straight from the pit of hell, and she knows exactly where my weak spots, tender scars, and carefully guarded wounds hide.  She pokes and prods and does her best to affirm every doubt I've ever had about myself.  I spent a long miserable day telling her she was a liar, that she was not speaking the Truth, and doing my best to preach the Truth to myself louder than she was spewing her lies.

I dragged myself home, feeling utterly defeated and wondering what in the world I had to offer the sweet women in my Community Group tonight.  A Bible study about "Becoming a Woman of Faith" from someone who was struggling to believe the most basic truths about her own identity in Christ?  This spelled disaster. Three of the women were already there when I arrived.  I listened empathetically as we stood in the kitchen and each of them exchanged war stories from the day.  I knew almost instantly that none of us needed a lecture about faith as much as we needed to be heard and lifted up in prayer tonight, so I closed the book and invited the sharing.  When it was my turn, I took a big deep breath, fixed my eyes on the corner of the wall across the room, and told them about my day and the drama queen in my head.  They listened, and they prayed, and they hugged.  And, I felt better.  The day was almost over.

On my way home, I dropped by to see some friends who'd gotten together for dinner.  I walked into a peaceful living room where they were enjoying a rambling conversation.  I sat and listened and eventually joined in, and I laughed.  I laughed that super crazy wheezing laugh that earns me strange looks and almost always gives me a headache later, but is so worth it in the moment.  I sat and soaked up the joy of being in the company of people with whom I feel known and accepted.  And, when I got back in my car two hours later, I realized the drama queen had finally shut up.  

Sometimes, no matter how hard we try to preach the truth to ourselves, it takes hearing it from others to make it sink in.  The combination of my sweet Community Group listening and praying and hugging followed by the a healthy dose of laughter in the company of great friends soothed the aching places and quieted the nagging doubts.

It's nearly midnight now.  Valentine's Day 2011 has come and gone.  I'm glad I didn't write about it until the end.  The story wasn't over yet.  It wouldn't have been complete.  Tonight, I am reminded how important it is to let the story unfold, to trust the Author and believe Him when He says He does not disappoint. 

To You they cried out and were delivered; In You they trusted and were not disappointed.

Psalm 22:5

Jesus Loves Jerry Jones

DFW hosted the Super Bowl yesterday.  Jerry Jones worked hard to win the bid to do so, and to work with the host committee to make it a profitable and pleasant experience for all who would attend.  He didn’t count on a record-breaking ice/snow event shutting our fair cities down for nearly a week leading up to the Big Game.   He couldn’t have foreseen it.  He didn’t cause it.  And, he had no power to end it.

Jerry Jones purchased the Cowboys franchise 22 years ago, and many, many die-hard fans have yet to forgive him for ousting longtime beloved coach Tom Landry in his first days as owner/general manager.  Over the years, Jerry Jones has proven to be prideful, braggadocious, and greedy.  He’s probably proven to be a number of other things both good and bad, but that short list will suffice for this blog.  Some people have the wisdom and self-restraint to not say anything about the man.  Many freely deride him, his decisions, and his character.  Few speak well of him.  I think little of him at all.

Jesus loves him. 

I can’t get over that Truth today.  As I read and listen to various broadcasters spouting their opinions.  As I read others' social media posts about the freak winter weather being evidence of God's opinion about Mr. Jones.  One thing goes through my head:  Jesus loves Jerry Jones.  Jesus died to offer eternal life and right standing with God to Jerry Jones.  Jerry is a public figure, and his sins are frequently on public display.  But, in my heart of hearts, I am no less prideful, braggadocious, or greedy apart from the transforming work of Christ.  I am no less condemnable apart from Jesus.  This is an awe-full truth.

Jesus loves me.  And, Jesus loves Jerry Jones. 

O Come, All Ye Faithful

Yea, Lord, we greet thee,

Born this happy morning;

Jesus, to thee be glory given;

Word of the Father,

Now in flesh appearing;

O Come, let us adore Him;
O Come, let us adore Him;

O Come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord!

And the Word (Christ) became flesh (human, incarnate) and tabernacled (fixed His tent of flesh, lived awhile) among us; and we [actually] saw His glory (His honor, His majesty), such glory as an only begotten son receives from his father, full of grace (favor, loving-kindness) and truth.

John 1:14 (AMP)

Ridiculous

Ridiculous [rid-ik-yuh-luhs] – causing or worthy of ridicule or derision; absurd; preposterous; laughable

I used this word in two different ways today.

First, I am a ridiculous person.

Second, God is ridiculous in His steadfast lovingkindness toward me.

In speaking about myself, I meant it in the worst possible sense of the word.  In speaking about the Lord, I meant it in the best possible sense of the word.  I was right on both accounts.

I’ve read my Bible in personal devotion exactly twice in the last two weeks.  In place of time in the Word, I’ve wallowed in laziness, self-pity, foolish choices, and cynicism.  I’ve mocked God’s sovereignty, calling His provision coincidence with bitterness in my heart. 

Last week, I picked my Bible up, turned the pages flippantly to that day’s reading, and rolled my eyes as I began to read Psalm 136.  Repetition drives me nuts, so the fact that the one day I decided to read fell on the same day I was assigned to read a Psalm that repeats the same phrase over and over again, annoyed me greatly.  But, I pressed on, reading twenty-six times over, “The steadfast love of the LORD endures forever.”  I remember thinking vaguely that I’d taught others in the past that the Lord repeats things in Scripture because they’re important, and they’re things we’re likely to forget.  In my self-centeredness I missed the point, though.  I couldn’t have felt less lovable that day, and the Lord had sovereignly ordained that I would read over and over again that His love for me knows no end. Ridiculously foolish of me.  Ridiculously gracious of Him.

This week, I woke once again in a self-loathing mood.  I sat down and wrote a long, grumbling, pitiful journal entry acknowledging that I had indeed given up on myself and suggesting to God that He should do the same.  I’m obviously a very slow learner.  (Ridiculously slow!)  It would be ridiculous of Him to continue wasting time, love, grace on me.  Surely others are much more deserving (of "undeserved favor").  I didn’t even read my Bible.  I was out of time because I took so long throwing my pity party.  I arrived at work, turned on my computer, and began clicking through my RSS Feeds.  My daily Bible reading plan was obviously very back logged, so almost mindlessly, I clicked on the audio feed for the day’s reading without even looking to see what it was.  A few moments later, I recognized the promise-filled words of Isaiah 54 filling my speakers.  Here’s just a snippet of what I heard,

For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, 

but my steadfast love shall not depart from you, 

and my covenant of peace shall not be removed,"

 says the LORD, who has compassion on you. 

"O afflicted one, storm-tossed and not comforted, 

behold, I will set your stones in antimony, 

and lay your foundations with sapphires. 

Isaiah 54:10-11

I sat there, stunned and teary-eyed.  And, I thought to myself, “How many times is God going to tell me that His love for me is steadfast before I stop being surprised by the steadfastness of His love?” 

Ridiculous!

Expectations

Recently, the idea was raised that perhaps it is our expectations that get us into trouble in life and with the Lord.  We pray with an expected outcome in mind, and we are disappointed when something other than what we imagined best comes to pass.  One friend stated that it is his practice to pray without expectation.  To say that this bothered and confounded me would be putting it mildly.  I’ve continued to chew on this thought for several weeks now.

In one sense, praying without expectations sounds good to me. It definitely sounds safe to me, and my closest friends will tell you that I almost always choose "safe" when it comes to my emotions.  If I don’t have expectations, I can’t be disappointed.  I hate being disappointed.  I can flow along life’s crooked stream without questioning the path or the length of the journey.  I will not wrestle with any pesky impediment because I had no expectation for the path to be smooth.

In thinking along these lines, I wrote the following thoughts last week …

If my life’s joy is wrapped up in a specific answer from God, I’m likely to be sorely disappointed over and over again.  If, however, He Himself is my joy and delight, the answer is inconsequential.  When He is my hope, I’m not praying for a job; I’m praying for provision.  I’m not praying for a mate; I’m praying for contentment.  I’m not praying for physical healing; I’m praying for God’s glory to be displayed through suffering or His power to be displayed through miraculous intervention.  I’m not praying for the waiting to end; I’m praying that I am formed more and more into the likeness of Christ. My eager hope and expectation is not in the answer but in the One who provides the answer.  I do not pray hoping that He will be good, but knowing that He is good and asking Him to reveal that goodness.  

When I pray with only my idea of what is good in mind, I will likely never know how many better things I’m leaving on the table.  The same psalmist who wrote, “The nearness of God is my good,” also wrote, “God is near to the brokenhearted.”  Sometimes, good is a broken heart that brings us near to God.  Until I have accepted that truth, I have not fully put my hope in Him.  And, until I value that nearness of God more than I value my own circumstantial happiness, I am willing to settle for far less than best. 

So, I began trying to pray that way.  The problem was, I sounded vague and distant even to my own ears. The best/worst analogy I can come up with for this is dating.  I hate dating.  I think it’s miserable and terrifying.  We spend time, money, and emotion getting to know someone, slowly pealing back all the layers of our protective personal walls, revealing our true selves to another person, knowing with each revelation that there’s the potential for someone to say, “Yeah, that’s too much. That’s going to be more than I want to work through. See ya.”  It’s agonizing.  And, when it’s over, and we rebuild those walls we’d taken down, we add another layer to protect us from the next one.  

As a result of that attitude toward dating, I tend to approach relationships with men without expectations.  I am guarded and vague and always fun and light-hearted and easy going.  If hurt, I deal with it at home.  If angry, I step away, re-evaluate and decide if I want to get over it or just put more space between me and the person who angered me. So far, it’s been a very safe (and lonely) way to go through life.  I don’t get hurt often, but that’s generally because I never give anyone enough of myself for him to truly be able do any damage.  

Sometimes, when God has not done things the way I wanted (expected) Him to do them, I’ve taken the same approach.  I back off, tell Him less about my feelings and hopes, let Him do His thing while I do mine, and tell myself it’s better that way. I mean, He is God and He's going to get His way anyway, right? A relationship without expectations. 

The problem with that approach is Scripture always gets in my way.  “…in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God …” “… pour out your heart to Him, O people …” “Call to Me and I will show you great and mighty things that you do not know.” “He who comes must believe that God is and that He is a rewarder of those who seek Him diligently.” “If we ask anything according to His will, we know that He hears us and if He hears us, we know that we have whatever we ask.” “Ask, and it will be given to you. Seek and you will find. Knock and the door will be opened.”

You and I have been invited to intimacy with the Lord.  He’s welcomed us to pour out our hearts before Him, not because He intends to grant every desire, but because He wants to work though each of them with us.  When I don’t acknowledge the desires of my heart before Him, whether pleasing, confusing, or downright sinful, I am denying myself the opportunity to enjoy the fullness of intimacy to which He has invited me, to know Him and to be known by Him.

Trust in the LORD, and do good;

         Dwell in the land, and feed on His faithfulness.

 Delight yourself also in the LORD,

         And He shall give you the desires of your heart. 

      

Commit your way to the LORD,

     Trust also in Him, a

nd He shall bring it to pass.

He shall bring forth your righteousness as the light,

         And your justice as the noonday.

      

Rest in the LORD, and wait patiently for Him;

         Do not fret because of him who prospers in his way, 

         Because of the man who brings wicked schemes to pass.

Cease from anger, and forsake wrath;

         Do not fret—it only causes harm.

         

For evildoers shall be cut off;

         But those who wait on the LORD, t

hey shall inherit the earth.

Psalm 37:3-9

Meals on Wheels: Unflattery

One afternoon, the guy I was dating at the time went with me to deliver meals.  Our route took us by the home of John, a client I saw weekly and with whom I had a very friendly relationship.  When we walked up to the door, John pulled a "dad" move and stuck out his hand with a very formal introduction.  I just smiled.

The next week, I returned on my own for my regular visit, and John says, "So, Kristen ... that young man with you last week ... was that your ... son?"  WHAT?!?! I explained that he was a friend, my age.  He had facial hair for pete's sake!

John just put his hand on his head and groaned, "Oh, Darlin', what have I done? I meant to say 'husband' ... Is he your husband?!"  I just laughed.  John said sheepishly, "Gosh, I just wanted to know if that was my competition."  Ha!  "Too late, John -- damage done."

I couldn't help but laugh, but it was by far the most offensive thing ever asked by a client. :-)

Joy To The World

Who doesn't love Joy to the World?  I mean, seriously.  It's just plain old good news.  You've got to love that.  I was reading Luke 2 earlier today, the passage where the angel appears to the shepherds and scares them half to death then announces, "We bring tidings of great joy which shall be to all people ..."  Great Joy. To all people.  A baby, a Savior.  This changes everything.

He rules the world with truth and grace,
and makes the nations prove
The glories of His righteousness,
and wonders of His love
and wonders of His love
And wonders, wonders, of His love.


If I'm not careful, I dread Christmas.  Modern Christmas.  The busyness, the pressure to buy the perfect gifts, the unholy desire to impress others with my ability to "keep Christ in Christmas".  Writing these posts, reflecting on these lyrics, really does remind me what it is we're celebrating.  It's a big deal because He is a big deal.  A baby born in a remote village on the other side of the world over two thousand years ago changed my life.  And whether you know it or not, He changed yours, too.

I got a text from a friend this weekend asking me to pray that she'd be able to really experience an understanding of God's love for her deep down inside.  I thought of her when I was reading these lyrics, the wonders of His love.  


A popular worship song I love to crank up loudly in my car has a line in it that says, "I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way He loves us, Oh, how He loves us!"  That's the joy to the world, the coming of One who freed us from sin and from ourselves.  The One who had every right to condemn us in His righteousness, chose to pursue us with a wondrous love instead.

We don't sing the third verse very often, but with all these things in mind, read it afresh today:

No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found,
Far as the curse is found,
Far as, far as the curse is found!

You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly.  Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might dare to die.  But God demonstrates His love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.  Romans 5:6-8

I am NOT a Medical Professional

I joked often when I was a case manager that I needed some sort of badge that read plainly, "This Person Is Not a Medical Professional."  For some reason, people frequently wanted to show me their wounds or scars or ask my opinion about an ailment -- opinions I was not qualified to offer.

One afternoon, I went to see one of my favorites, an elderly widower named Cliff.  He always seemed thankful for company and willing to sit and chat for a while.  I arrived and he told me how pretty I looked.  We sat and began to visit, and I asked about his health.  -- At this point, it is important to tell you that Cliff was not wearing a shirt. -- He began reaching over his large pot belly and messing with the elastic waistband of his shorts saying slowly, "Well, I've got something you may want to feel."  I sat frozen on the sofa at this point, holding my breath until he stopped at his belly button and added, "I've got a knot come up here, and I don't know what it is."

The man wanted me to stick my finger in his belly button and feel of what was surely a hernia!  I informed him that I was not a nurse and that he would have to talk with his doctor about that.

Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus

So, I'm a blended worship girl.  I like it all.  I've loved hymns and preferred to keep them as part of worship, mostly because they come with a comforting childhood familiarity.  However, as I've worked my way through some of my favorite Christmas hymns, I'm finding another reason to love they hymns.  They are theologically dense.  I've heard this argument before, but I never bothered to really engage the thought process.  But, this December, as I study the lyrics of some of my favorite songs, and the truths they set to melody and bury deep in the recesses of my heart and mine, I am so thankful and in awe of what the writers have penned.  For most of these songs, I've tried to pick a specific verse or line to share with you.  Today, I can't narrow it down.  It's all good.

Come, thou long expected Jesus,
Born to set thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee.
Israel's strength and consolation,
hope of all the earth thou art;
dear desire of every nation,
joy of every longing heart.
Born thy people to deliver,
born a child and yet a King,
born to reign in us forever, 
now thy gracious kingdom bring.
By thine own eternal spirit
rule in all our hearts alone;
By thine all sufficient merit,
Raise us to they glorious throne.

Simeon was there. He took the child in his arms and praised God, saying,“Sovereign Lord, now let your servant die in peace,as you have promised. I have seen your salvation, which you have prepared for all people.  He is a light to reveal God to the nations, and he is the glory of your people Israel!” Luke 2:29-32

Another Story I Couldn't Tell ...

One day while visiting an elderly woman who lived alone in an apartment complex, it got to be lunch time.  She was very concerned that I might be hungry.  As I worked my way through my questions for her, I assured her I would eat when I left her, but she didn't seem convinced.  Finally, she asked if I'd like a can of Sprite.  Thinking a canned soda had to be pretty safe, I agreed. She shuffled her way into the kitchen, oxygen tank in tow.  When she got there, she decided to pour the Sprite over ice.

At this point, I began to get a little nervous.  Old people can't see well and have low energy, so their kitchens are not generally the cleanest.  Then, she asked if I'd like a straw.  A safe, sanitary method for drinking a soda?  Why, sure!  I'd love a straw!

As she shuffles back over to me with the glass, I'm going on and on about how much I prefer drinking from a straw.  Just about the time she hands me the glass, she says, "Oh, I love straws, too.  I save them and wash them and reuse them!"  I look down at the glass in my hand and notice a strange discoloration around the rim of the straw sticking up at me.  Yikes!

I held the glass politely as we continued to talk.  When she mentioned a photograph of her granddaughter that she kept in the next room, I asked to see it.  While she shuffled to find it, I quickly fed a thirsty looking plant a very refreshing soda!

The X-Files

One afternoon, I found myself sitting in the home of a 57 year old woman who was convinced she needed assisted living.  As I listened to a list of ailments a mile long, I could see out of the corner of my eye that there was a scanner program running on her computer, but I couldn't see what exactly she was running.  When she finally got up to go into the other room, I was able to clearly see that her computer was running, "The At-Home Search for Extra Terrestrial Intelligence."  That woman was looking for E.T. in her living room!