Unpacking

Last week I went with two women, Jana and Kathy, from our church to Atlanta to attend the Presbyterian Church in America’s Leadership Training conference for women in ministry (PCALT).  We flew together, leaving the San Antonio airport at 7 am on Thursday and returning at 6 pm on Saturday.  What happened in between departure and return is still dancing through my brain like a Cuban wedding—nonstop, energetic, all over the place, and beautiful.

There's a Running Metaphor For That....

Now and then someone will ask me if I pray while I run, and I answer, "Sometimes."  Really though, when I pray I prefer to really focus on what I'm praying.  When I run, I have found that trying to focus on anything other than the running doesn't work.  Not that I am "focused" on every step I take, but, I get myself going, and while my body is focused on the running I allow my mind to wander here and there, free-association-style, bringing it back to the activity at hand when needed.  Sort of rambling through my "thinking" so my main energy can go to what I am "doing."

Even so, it is not time wasted.  For instance, as I ran this morning, here is where my mind rambled...

Giving Thanks

I admit, sad but true, that I am mentally and emotionally affected by gloomy weather.  Today dawned— barely— under a heavy blanket of fog.  The fog has persisted throughout the morning and into the afternoon, with brief periods of thunder, lightning, a peek of sunshine, and a return of heavy cloud cover.  Ugh.  Peel me off the couch.  Add to this the discovery this morning that our coffee maker has died, (It's only a year old— engineered obsolescence, anyone?) and the temptation to go back to bed is almost overwhelming.

To Live is Christ

I am a tad bit late on this post- but then, that's the story of the past few months, isn't it?  Our Women's Bible Study kicked off in September and we have been meeting every week.  Taking a hard look at my own schedule of homeschooling I decided that I did not have the capacity to responsibly lead both the daytime and evening studies this year.  Another couple of ladies graciously accepted the leadership of the daytime study so that I can focus on five days of homeschooling with only one evening a week of study with the ladies.

Strength Upon Which I Can Depend

Since I am training toward a half-marathon, and a hilly one at that, about six weeks (!) from now, I'm purposely seeking longer and more challenging routes to run around home.  Last week I mapped out  7-miles of road which include a couple of serious hills, yet does not require me to run past my home until I'm returning at the very end, thus eliminating the temptation to bail early.

More Blessed in Giving

When Kate asked us a couple of months ago if she could invite some of her friends she has made while living in Lancaster to come for the weekend of the music festival, Father Folk, we readily agreed.  We've not had the chance to become acquainted with her new friends, and spending a weekend with them here would be a great way to do just that.  Kate seemed to be on top of the details and planning, and she pledged with all the sincerity of her soul to manage the entire affair.

Bountiful Dealings

The past few weeks since my last post have been busy in some ways, and rather relaxing in others.  Jim and Erin went away to camp in Virginia while Isaac and I stayed home and found ways to enjoy our time together in spite of the heat wave that practically annihilated any outdoor activities.  Once our adventurers returned home we had a pleasant week together, all four of us, for the first time all summer.  Wineberries have been jammed and peaches have been deliciously preserved.  Books have been read and movies have been viewed.  A good time has been had by all.

Just Who Do I Think I Am?!

Tuesday morning I slipped out the door for a morning run, and as I watched the sun cast my shadow along the road in front of me, a mocking voice whispered in my head, "Just who do you think you are, out here running like some kind of athlete"?

Entering Her Rest

Since we moved here less than 5 years ago, we don't have a long history with any of the folks who have become our friends.  In most circumstances this has no bearing on our relationships, and they are growing individually as God gives grace.  One relationship which surprised me, however, was my friendship with Ann.

May 22, 2011

I'm having a difficult time sorting out how I feel about yesterday's non-event.  The Rapture didn't happen; we're all still here.  Actually, I know what I'm feeling, the many reason why I feel this way are what need sorting out.

As I watched the evening News, with story after story of anguish and loss, wars, floods, murders and mayhem, the anchor then turned to the story of those who believed in the Lord's imminent return by saying, "Well, fortunately, the Rapture did not happen today."

Confessions of a Non-Confrontational Calvinist

http://www.disneywallpaper.info

In the movie Toy Story, there is a character with whom I particularly relate. Rex, the big green dinosaur, towers above the rest of the toys and has a mouthful of teeth and a fearsome roar, but it quickly becomes clear that Rex is a coward. In a scene that returns to my mind on a regular basis, Rex shakes his tiny little fists and declares, "I don't like confrontation!"


 
Yea, that's me.

We’re Not From Around Here

Many Moons ago, waaay back when Jim and I had one child and were expecting our second, we made the decision to leave the Army life behind. We had met while both of us were serving in the Army, married while on Leave, and spent our first three years as husband and wife living in Germany, where Jim was stationed. (I left the Army in order to get married.) One reason for our decision was that we wanted to have a family, but we did not want to have to uproot ourselves every few years in order to move around wherever the Army sent us. We wanted to be settled as part of a community.


 
God has a sense of humor.

Partnering to Remember

A few years ago I found the blog of a Christian pastor, Timmy Brister, who had the idea of reading through the Puritans, one a month, for a year.  The discipline of embarking on such a quest "with" someone else, following his posts through the year and reading the comments of others on his blog, was an adventure.  While I didn't make it through all of the books, it was a blessing to have read those which I did.

Virtual Ligonier

While we lived in Florida we were blessed to be able to attend the annual Conference for Ligonier Ministries, in Orlando, several years in a row. Now that we live so far away, we enjoy the blessing of watching the conference streaming live on the internet. Rather, I should say, the mixed blessing of streaming live on the internet. Because the live webcast affords us the ability to watch from home, it means that as we are watching the conference, we are- say it with me- still at home.

A Few Points of Clarification

After my recent confession I feel that I need to clarify a few points. Weak and imperfect as I am, and miscommunication of what I've written being a distinct possibility, (all fault being my own) here goes.

Let me first and foremost declare that outside of Christ I am nothing, can do nothing, and have no hope whatsoever. He saved me, dead in the trespasses and sins in which I once walked, following the course of this world, a child of wrath, not because of works done by me in righteousness, but because of his own great love and bountifully rich mercy toward me. God saved me from death, from bondage to sin, from an eternity in hell, to be made alive in Christ, raised up with Him and seated with Him in glory. (Eph. 2: 1-7) To quote a friend, "(1) I did not deserve it and (2) I did not deserve it and (3) I still do not deserve it."

To Be Honest…

There are some topics about which I don't write here simply because they cut too close to the heart, and I don't want to sound as if I'm complaining or being negative. Yet there are things through which we are living now, circumstances which seem to dominate our lives, through which God will ultimately be glorified. But if I've said nothing, how will anyone know? What follows is not a complaint, nor is it a masked plea for money- really. I've waited until I'm in a good mood to write this in an attempt to keep the negativity at bay.

What Beauty, Language

Ever since I can remember, I have loved words. I can't recall the exact moment when the shapes on the page began to make sense to me and became decipherable language, but I clearly remember sitting in my reading group in first grade at the Episcopal Day School, waiting impatiently for the slower readers to stumble over their portion of our text, (Dick and Jane, of course); reading ahead to pass the time until my turn arrived. Books were wonderfully magical, and I devoured them as fast as I could. Through these portals I was able to visit far lands and different times. From a sweltering courtroom in Maycomb County, Alabama, to flying across the finish line on the back of the wild Black Stallion, the adventures possible through books were limited only by the time available to read them.

Certain books still stand out to me. One Sunday morning when I was a child in Wichita Falls, TX, where the "Blue Laws" were still in effect so most stores were closed one day of the weekend and Treasure City (think Kmart- but sorta dumpy) was the only place to pick up a garden hose since they closed their doors on Saturday in order to serve the Daddies in town who hadn't realized until Sunday morning that the garden hose at home was inoperable, I lingered in Books as Dad found what he need in Lawn and Garden. (Somewhere in downtown Reading there's a chop-shop that could cut that sentence down and sell it for parts...) I convinced Dad to buy The Golden Stallion, a large format, illustrated, chapter book about- yup- a boy and his horse, (horses were my thing). I may have started reading it on the way home, and once there I do remember spending the day physically on my bed, as my imagination spent the day way out West on a horse ranch with a wild Palomino. Dad looked in on me a couple of times, I think, and by day's end I had finished the entire book.

The Swiss Family Robinson, Smokey the Cow Horse, and Heidi I first read at age ten, when I spent the Summer with my name-sake and her family, the Hicks, in Cocoa Beach, FL. Yes, swimming at the beach was very memorable; Barbaranne took me to see the new movie everyone was talking about, namely, Star Wars; and I spent so much time in their pool that I developed a case of swimmer's ear. Yet she also took me to the library where I chose a stack of books.

The Summer of 1979, I lived with my Mom and brother in an apartment complex as our home in Wichita Falls was being rebuilt after the tornado that destroyed our town on April 10th. The gang of folks who socialized around the pool each evening and weekend had a book swap and I acquired my copy of Watership Down.

All of this reading widened my vocabulary and my Dad believes that it's responsible for erasing my Texas accent almost entirely. The magic of a well-written story which fires the imagination is replicated nowhere else. Though the movie screen may fill in some details, those created by the mind are far more enduring. I went through a Stephen King phase as a teenager, and I'll tell you that his book caused me to be wary of Saint Bernard dogs far more thoroughly than the movie Cujo ever could. Ideas are expressed in words which then rattle around the intellect, get sorted through in the heart and mind, and help to shape what we believe, and therefore, who we are.

And yet, written words are just that, scribbles on a page from a human imagination. Until one opens the Bible. In the Holy Scriptures we find words which not only produce images and ideas, but Words of Life which can save the soul. The words of Scripture express spiritual realities; eternal, non-subjective truths; and cosmic mysteries. But even more than that, it is a mystery that the same words which can be read by all and intellectually apprehended, when accompanied by the grace of Christ, will actually transform the heart and mind of the reader. This is why we read in the book of John that, though Jesus' crowd of followers departed in droves after a particularly difficult teaching, his chosen twelve remained.

So Jesus said to the Twelve, "Do you want to go away as well?" Simon Peter answered him, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life,..." (John 6:67-68)

As Jesus prayed for his disciples, and for us, on the night of his betrayal, he distilled his requests of the Father down to what he, in his infinite and loving wisdom, knew to be most important.

"Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth." (John 17:17)

The writer of Hebrews would later explore the mystery of the transforming power of God's Word.

"For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart." (Hebrews 4:12)

There is no question in my mind or heart that the Word of God is to be given the highest place, therefore, in our home and the church. When Jesus was tempted by Satan in the wilderness he did not destroy his arguments with the brilliance of logic or attempt to reason with him. He answered him with the Word of God, against which the deceiver had no defense. If the Omnipotent One relies so on the Word of the Father, how much more must I? In our day and age, those who insist on objective truth are ridiculed and suspected of haughty pride. And yet to embrace the truth of Scripture is to acknowledge that I am nothing outside of Christ. I have no wisdom, power, or gifts of my own; all to Christ I owe.

I therefore defer to Scripture, to the Words of life, which will build a foundation of rock upon which God is preparing me to weather any storm which, in His providence, may threaten to sweep me away.

Eyes Up

Oh what a mistake to think that certain tolerated guests can behave in a civilized and controlled manner. What folly to ascribe discipline to inherently undisciplined wantons.

I thought that allowing a little lone dismay to cozy up with my heart for an afternoon might be harmless, but dismay rarely travels alone. Before I knew it, dismay had opened wide the door to fear and despair, who tramped all over my heart and mind with their muddy boots, gobbling up my soul in great slobbery bites and leaving me gasping at their insatiable appetites.

"But as for me, my feet had almost stumbled, my steps had nearly slipped." (Ps. 73:2)

To focus on the wind and the waves of circumstances whistling about my head and blowing up a storm is sheer foolishness when the Lord of Creation has called me to travel in his lifeboat. He has saved me from an eternity of torment, invited me into His family and called me His own. How can I not gaze upon Him with the trusting eyes of a child when I know that He has come to my rescue time and again in the past, and will continue to be my refuge in the future?

What perfect timing to spend a weekend at a conference on Reformed Theology where my Savior is continually exalted and honored with the glory due only to Him. What a glorious blessing indeed to hear message after message preached on the supremacy of my Lord, who left His throne in Heaven in order that I might be rescued from not only an eternity apart from him, but a lifetime of selfish dependence on the idols of this world. Only in Christ can I find life, and that in abundance.

Not an abundance of worldly possessions and pleasures, but,

..."the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and how inscrutable His ways!" (Rom. 11:33)

The preaching this weekend by Philip Ryken and Steve Lawson focused on the excellencies of Christ and how belonging to Him should draw our hearts and minds upward out of the mire in which we live. Knowing that He died that we might live ought to inspire us to such gratitude that we in turn die to our own sinful desires that we may live wholly for Him as living sacrifices. One of the messages focused on Romans 12:1-2 in which we are exhorted not to be conformed to the world, but to be transformed by the renewal of our minds, which is only possible as the Holy Spirit works in us through the Word of God.

In a breakout session led by Steve Lawson in which he taught on the life of Jonathan Edwards I was personally convicted of my own slothful wastefulness of the time and blessings which God has granted me. I focus overly much on my own selfish desires and comforts when I know that God's plans for me are superior to any that I have for myself. While His way to perfecting me may be painful at times, it is nevertheless for my good and more importantly, for His glory.

I have long been an enthusiastic fan of good preaching and excellent exposition of the Word, but walking away from a weekend of sermons such as these without an inner conviction of needed change would prove that a mere heart of stone resides within my chest. I have been cut to the quick and shown from God's Word that I am not as transformed as I thought. Yet, far from being discouraged by this vision of my plight, I am greatly encouraged in knowing that it is God who is at work in me, and what God begins, He finishes.

Soli Deo Gloria.

Vessel of Clay

I've been pondering lately how the Lord brings people into our lives. Some folks come in one door and soon leave through another. Some quietly move in to stay. And then there are those who come crashing in through a window, leave a mess, and relief that they've gone. And yet, they have all entered our life for a reason, and as long as memory endures, a part of them will remain.

Years ago there was a girl who came crashing into our lives, and I have lately found myself remembering and wondering how she is doing. April showed up on the doorstep of our church one Sunday evening just as the service had ended and folks were wrapping up their visiting in the lobby. She lived in the neighborhood next to the church and had seen the cross on the steeple for weeks. This night she had made up her mind to come and had walked the streets in the dark, hopping a fence or two, in hopes of catching a service.

Living a long way from home, South Florida had gone from being an escape to becoming a prison for her. Raised in a church-going family, April had been the wild child of the family. A teenage pregnancy had established her as a bad girl in her own mind and she assumed there was no going back. Her Mother cared for her daughter as April moved to Florida to live with some friends who promised her sanctuary and a chance for a fresh start. But the sanctuary that this cute, young, vibrant girl found living with this particular pair of angry Lesbian women was a fragile illusion.

The home in which she found herself was comfortable at first and she got along with her friends just fine so long as she pursued their interests. They were open minded as long as she went along to the clubs and parties of their choosing. But when she began to look for straight friends and perhaps even a boyfriend, that was crossing a line. She had gotten a job at the local Lowes but depended on her housemates for transportation. Driving her to work was alright, but not always convenient. Driving her to a Christian church was out of the question.

The night she showed up at church I was standing right outside the door. God put me right in the path of this lost and wandering lamb as she was beginning to long for the comfort that she remembered from her childhood. April couldn't express what she was feeling in concise doctrinal statements, all she knew was that she needed to be in a church, and was desperate for someone to talk to about topics that were taboo in the house in which she now lived. God was calling this lost child home.

And there I stood.

The next few weeks went by in a blur, and my memory is not sufficient to sort it all out. What I remember clearly is her achingly raw need for Christ as her new friends abandoned her- actually turned on her with a vicious attack that took Jim and another couple of men from the church to sort out. There were sleepless nights, early morning phone calls and driving to pick her up after a night out partying with the wrong people. April slept on our couch, wore my clothes for a couple of days, and gave me cause for anxieties that I'd never dreamed of. We helped talk to her supervisor at work who arranged a transfer to a store near her home- her real home up North. Phone calls with her Mom and a bus ticket bought and she was on her way back from her wandering to rejoin the family who awaited her with open arms and tears of joy.

There was not one single aspect of our interlude with April that was at all convenient. She blew through our tidy routine like a hurricane. But then, Florida is where hurricanes happen, and a life submitted to Christ is not tidy or routine in the least. I spent most of that time feeling as if I were one gulp away from drowning in the tide. There were no neat, carefully thought-out explanations of, well, anything. April was afraid, well aware of her sin, and she needed Jesus. And Jesus used the common clay vessel that was closest to the door the night April came looking for Him.

We later heard from April's Mom that she was doing rather well. Going back to school, taking care of her daughter, looking to the future; most importantly, she was actively participating in a church, growing in her knowledge of and service to the Lord. Now that we have moved away from Florida I doubt that we will ever hear from them again, and I don't feel that we need to.

But there are times that I do wonder about that night. If I hadn't been standing outside the church door I might have missed the turbulent, sleepless, inconvenient, even scary, next few weeks. And I would have missed the unbelievable blessing of watching the Lord reclaim one of his lost sheep.

I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Thank you Lord.

One Final Thought...

Last year I attempted to follow a reading plan set forth by a Pastor whose blog I occasionally read; reading 12 Puritan works in 12 months. I crashed and burned a few months into the year- but what I did manage to finish was indeed a blessing. Today I found that he is planning to honor the 500th anniversary of the birth of John Calvin with a reading plan centered on Calvin's Institutes of the Christian Religion. As I have always wanted to read this myself, I've ordered the reading material which he set forth from Amazon.com and should be able to begin by January 10th. (Gives me time to take down the tree and set some things straight here as the New Year begins)

I pray that however much I am able to finish would enrich my mind and enlarge my heart to the truth of God's Word. It would also be cool to have others reading along with me- hint, hint. Please leave a comment here if you would like to give it a try with me!