Queen Esther

I just finished rereading the book of Esther. It's a short read, maybe an hour or so from start to finish. The king becomes angry with his queen and announces the search to replace her. A Hebrew man who has raised his niece prepares her to join the competition. The king falls in love with her and she is changed from faceless orphan to queen. A lot of detail happens a long the way and one day Esther has an opportunity to take advantage of her present status by claiming her history and through her courage the Hebrew nation is saved. If you've never read Esther, take an evening or two and learn about this young girl.


I was drawn to this little book of the Bible as I was doing my semiannual self-examination. Am I doing what God wants me to do? Am I even open to hearing his direction if it is something off the familiar path for me? An evening with Queen Esther put my heart right and gave me a new joy for the things of my life that I had been considering burdens. Certainly, it reminded me that it is not my own abilities that will make a difference in the world. It's my submission to God that will make my life meaningful. A few lessons from Esther are worthwhile for all of us to think about.


She had a Godly mentor. Esther's uncle was himself in a position of obedience to God and therefore able to use his place in society to help her find her place. She listened to him and ultimately she obeyed him despite his advice taking her into unfamiliar territory. She recognized that God placed people in her life and did not pick and choose who to listen to based on her own understanding.


She spent a year patiently preparing. For an entire year, Esther lived among other women who were pursuing the king as well. She spent this time making herself beautiful and learning the customs that would be required of her. Knowing her goal; she gave herself completely to the role without worrying that it might be time wasted.


She took on her role with humility. When she became queen, Esther continued to seek the wisdom of her mentor although she had risen above him in status. She didn't take herself so seriously she believed there was nothing left to learn. Now that she was queen, she wanted to know how to do it to God's glory.


She balanced the laws of society with her faith. When her uncle told her to seek the king's attention; she knew this could cost her her life if she did not await his invitation. Instead of brashly storming to the throne room she asked that the people fast and pray for her.


She knew who held her life in his hands. Although on the surface, it seemed the king would choose to spare her life, Esther knew that God held her future. She sought his pleasure before the kings by giving herself to fasting and praying as well. Much as she had spent a year making herself beautiful for her earthly king; she spent time making herself beautiful for her true King.


She earned the right. When Esther finally approached the king he received her with pleasure and love. She had proven herself along the way by guarding her reputation with him. She did not flaunt her position as queen and become offensive. The humble Hebrew girl remained within her and this beauty captured the king's heart.


She remembered her mission. She did not consider being queen her ultimate goal, but to save her people. She took a chance that speaking this request would end her life. But she did not let the temptation of wealth and attention distract her. She knew what God wanted of her and would achieve it whether it brought her a crown or the gallows.


Finally Esther approached her king and having already gained his love through her demeanor he readily invited her to tell him what she wanted. He heard her and took action on her behalf. She never believed herself to be up to any task so she slowed herself down to allow the work to be done in her to make her useful in God's hands.


In order to be a modern-day Esther, I must know whose attention I seek and what to do to make myself beautiful to him. I have to realize I am not entitled to anything and be willing to do the work inwardly and outwardly to become ready for my future. I must pray and fast and lead others in this God-seeking by teaching them to do the same so that when success happens; I have already acknowledged that it was by God's hand. I have to be brave enough to push against the system but have earned the respect of those I challenge. I have to be wise enough to see the people God surrounds me with and learn from them, being always willing to change myself when I learn to be better.


If you're feeling a little out of sorts or wondering about what God plans for you, I recommend an evening with Queen Esther. You might learn that there is a queen in your heart waiting to be presented to the King.



Esther 4:14 For if thou altogether holdest thy peace at this time, then shall there enlargement and deliverance arise to the Jews from another place; but thou and thy father's house shall be destroyed: and who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time as this?

Lord...Susan

It's 8:00 on the morning of my 42nd birthday. The temperature outside is already 67 degrees, a heatwave for Michigan in April. I've already been up for over an hour and opened up all the windows in the house to invite in the warm breeze. I'm daydreaming about spring cleaning and the promise of my summer time yard. The Mr.'s parents will be coming soon to stay with us for a while and I'm thinking ahead to do some extra housework each week in preparation.

I have just showered and being that it's too warm for my winter robe, I've pulled out my lightweight terry robe. Cherry blossom body cream and body spray. Rolled my hair in the large velcro rollers I use every day and blow dried through. Spritzed on the hair spray before I take out the rollers like I do every day to let my hair set. Pulled out the mani/pedi supplies to use while my hair finishes drying. My coffee in my green Marshall, Michigan mug is almost gone.

Just a lovely Saturday off with a day that couldn't hold more promise being that it's filled with the simplest of things that bring me the greatest joy. I'm amazed once again that this is where I've arrived after making so many other plans. This perfect moment that I never knew God had in mind when he denied me so many different wishes over forty two years.

Susan Smith comes to mind suddenly. Susan Smith, you remember her. On October 25 1994 she murdered her three year old son Michael and 14 month old son Alexander. She drove her car into a lake with the boys strapped into their car seats and let them drown. October 25, our anniversary. I remember so well the moments of the alert that the boys were missing based on her story that she'd been car jacked. I remember sobbing and praying and sobbing and praying and fearing, fearing, fearing. So close to home. Not in miles but in my heart and my head because my two little boys looked a lot like Michael and Alexander. Fifteen months apart, Michael and Alexander; Jay and Macky. "My God," I thought, "how is she even standing upright?" But she stood upright nonetheless crying and begging for the return of the two sons she had murdered. I have hated Susan Smith for fifteen years. And is as my way, I have thought of Michael as a high school senior and Alexander taking driver's education and hated her all over again. The boys' dad would've taken custody and she could've walked away. Their grandparents would've taken them. I would've taken them!

But she killed them so there will be no prom, no high school sweetheart, no warm spring breezes for Michael and Alexander.

Susan Smith sits in a maximum security prison serving a life sentence on the morning of my forty second birthday. I don't know why my mind is drawn to this woman today but this morning, I needed to ask God to forgive me for hating her. And I need to ask him to help me even more because this morning he asked me to pray for her. So I am praying for Susan Smith. For what I don't know, all I can seem to muster is her name called out to Christ right now. It's good that he knows the rest. Probably good that I don't.

I won't hate her anymore. I will try not to hope she is in torment for what she did. I'll try not to compare her boys to my boys and make it my pain.

I haven't yet figured out why Susan Smith is my responsibility spiritually but suddenly she is. The only answer I find is, just think if every Christian prayed for every murderer, criminal, sociopath, monster they heard of. Just think, how many times have I chosen not to pray for them having decided their actions make them ineligible for Jesus.

Lord...Susan.

Today I Wish You Peace

Peace never comes from what is around us. Peace can only be realized in contrast, like diamonds on black velvet. It has weight and warmth that steadies and anchors us from the inside. Peace is always in spite of and never because of.

Peace is the breath of the Holy Spirit, God in us. Peace exhales from our soul into our surroundings and settles the air.

Peace is the discipline of God into the atmosphere of the world that rails against Him.

Peace cannot be imparted from man to man and yet overflows the peaceful to drape itself over those he touches.

Peace descends, soothes, sings, whispers, speaks, commands, calms, rules, saves.

Today, I wish you peace.

Psalm 29:10-11 The LORD sitteth upon the flood; yea, the LORD sitteth King for ever. The LORD will give strength unto his people; the LORD will bless his people with peace.

April 26, 2009

Psalm 103:1-5 Bless the LORD, O my soul: and all that is within me, bless his holy name. Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits: Who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases; Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies; Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things; so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's.

the best things

1. warm weather after a cold winter.

2. my favorite scents (freshly mown grass, cilantro, citrus,lilac.)

3. crawling into bed at night.

4. books.

5. laughing.

6. good hair days.

7. an organized office.

8. finishing a project.

9. dogs.

10. coffee (you had to know that would be there somewhere!)

The Butterfly & Barabbas

I learned something today that might be worth sharing. I mentioned my Barabbas last week, the person who keeps disappointing me and how I had determined to let him go. I made a promise to myself that I was really done with the pettiness. With God's help, I have kept that promise. I'm not taking the bait of nasty e-mails or allowing myself the nasty little pleasure of repeating my latest problem with the person. I don't know that I like him any better but I know I like myself better. I know what to expect and I accept it as all he can give. What a relief.

Today the Lord used the situation to show me something I hadn't been able to see through my lens of frustration and intolerance. Yes, this person's behavior makes my life harder in many ways. I have to take up some slack, I have to let words slip by without response and sometimes when there's a perfect opportunity to do otherwise; I actually protect him by not exposing what he really is. And how is any of this good? I am learning to be good. I am better from the lessons he has forced on me. If I am going to please God I have to let Christ take the larger portion of my reactions. I think that's why I like myself better. The more of Jesus I see in the mirror the prettier I am.

So thank you, Barabbas. Had you been all that I wished you were I could've easily remained stagnant. You would not have forced me to grow spiritually. I wouldn't have had to become more like Jesus to deal with you. And really, isn't anything that makes us more like Jesus a wonderful thing?

That is what I learned today as I found myself sitting peacefully in the presence of rude words and belittling conversation. Truly and deeply peaceful I learned that if God has decided to create a butterfly, a butterfly will indeed stretch her wings. And if I choose to remain within my cocoon of flesh, someone else will do the flying even if it is only to fly away from me.

Isn't God good?

Romans 8:20-21

For the creature was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but by reason of him who hath subjected the same in hope, Because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.

Book Review and Dinner Menu

Finished all of my library books. The James Herriot biography by his son was awesome. If you've not read Herriot's books (All Creatures Great & Small series) and you appreciate gifted writing about simpler times, give them a try. Most libraries have them.

The Last Town On Earth was more or less lame. Seemed promising but turned into some kind of thinly veiled political statement that ended up ticking me off (conservative Republican that I am.) The story really went no where as the author was more interested in trying to convince the reader that all war is the result of capitalism and stupid men who follow without question. I'm still ticked off!

Now I have no library books left and it's cold and rainy out so no way I'm going anywhere. I'll have to read the shampoo bottle tonight.

I made a delicious dinner of stuffed chicken breast, asparagus, corn, salad and cranberry sauce and the Mr. won't get up and eat just because he has a fever and the flu. Ungrateful is what he is.

Columbine

Today is the anniversary of the Columbine High School massacre in 1999. By the end of the shooting fifteen people were dead and twenty four more wounded. Ten years later parents have to be thinking, what would my twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven year old be today?

There are certain moments in history that mark my determination to pursue psychiatric instead of medical nursing. Columbine is at the top of the list. Two teenagers blew away the hopes, dreams and peace of countless people that day before they turned their anger back on themselves in suicide.

I have cried and cried for the victims and their families. I've cried no less for these two boys who will be known in history as murderers. And I want to know why. Ten years later we understand a little bit more. But only a little.

Please, pray for those who mourn today. And when you are finished, pray for those whose hearts are being twisted into something dangerous and ugly. Pray for those children might grow up to be called killers if someone doesn't find them in time.

And pray for us, all of us, who God has called to their side. Since April 20, 1999 I have felt that God stands next to me and points his finger into the distance commanding me...go. Go, find them and love them. The most unlovable, the most dangerous, the most offensive. Go and save them. And in saving them, we are all saved.

Isaiah 6:8 Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I; send me.

April 19, 2009

Daniel 10:19 And said, O man greatly beloved, fear not: peace be unto thee, be strong, yea, be strong. And when he had spoken unto me, I was strengthened, and said, Let my lord speak; for thou hast strengthened me.

Makes Me Feel Loved

1. Text messages from the Mr

2. Being prayed for
3. Hugs
4. Being known

5. Gifts that aren't new
6. My home

7. When the Mr. looks right at me from the stage.

8. Waking up at 2:00 a.m. with my hand being held.

9. My parents.

10. The words "I love you." said so often they are scarcely noticed and make time stop for a moment all at once.

Citrus

I see God's handiwork in oranges, limes, lemons and grapefruits. I can't tell you why but somehow citrus fruit seems utterly miraculous to me. Every time I see one of these amazing little citruseses it seems like God's version of luxury living. I'm more impressed by citrus than by a bowl full of precious stones. Silly, huh?

I have a basket of navel oranges on my kitchen table and I add lemon to just about everything except coffee. However, it's not that I so adore eating citrus. It is just so pretty and seems to serve no purpose other than God taking a moment during creation to focus on beauty just for the sake of the gift of it. I don't even particularly like lemon or lime flavored things like pies or desserts. But a lemon tree? Remarkable.

Maybe it's because I am a Michigan girl, we can't grow them there fragile citrus fruits 'round here. So when, in the coldest part of winter I go to the Kroger and see a bin full of beautiful fat yellow lemons it always seems to me that we cannot be that bad off. If we can go to the local store and buy something that only grows so far away, things are not as terrible as they could be. In a way, I think my house sort of reflects the beauty I see in nature. Greens and oranges and yellows on the walls. Jewel tones, depending on your definition of jewels.

Lemonade with a sprig of fresh mint in the summer or peeling a navel orange during a blizzard; it's luxury wrapped in beauty.

I just felt like thinking about simple joy today. Kisses from God right at my fingertips.

Isaiah 4:2 In that day shall the branch of the LORD be beautiful and glorious, and the fruit of the earth shall be excellent and comely for them that are escaped of Israel.

Dave

The Mr.'s cell phone rang yesterday and the caller ID said it was our neighbor, Dave. Actually the neighbor across the street in our old house. Jay still lives in the old house so he still feels like a neighbor. Plus he's just the nicest guy and our friendly neighborhood auto mechanic. He can fix anything and never charges enough to make it worth his while.
Anyway, it wasn't Dave calling. It was his brother Tim. Tim was going through Dave's cell calling all the numbers to inform his friends that on Saturday, Dave took his own life.
Jay had called us Saturday afternoon when we were expecting him over to say he couldn't get out of his driveway, it was blocked by an ambulance. Now we know why. Dave leaves behind two sons; one in high school and the other 21 years old who is in the Marines. His school teacher wife is left to be both mom and dad to these boys as she tries to heal from the loss of her husband.
You'd think in my business I'd gain a certain ability to distance myself but it's not so. I'm as shocked as anybody else. And angry and sad and guilt-ridden. Why guilt? How can a guy live across the street from a psych nurse and commit suicide? Because it happens. People carry dark secrets and hopelessness inside their chests sometimes. No matter how willing I would have been to help him, he didn't allow me the honor. I don't know why Dave decided he could not face Easter morning. That this day of unspeakable joy for me was a day he could not wake up to makes this all the sadder. The day that defines hope was a day too late.
Please join me in praying for the peace of all those left in the wake of this tragedy. Dave knew Jesus. It is my hope that despite this final act of self-destruction, that Easter found him finally joyfully resting at the feet of Jesus.

1 Corinthians 13:12 For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

Books

Does anybody care about book reviews? If not, click on by!

First let me tell you that I don't generally read inspirational books. Sorry. Just another way in which I don't groove to the same beat as many Christian women. So you'll rarely find a recommendation for Christian books here. And I may as well tell you that inspirational books for Christian women are pretty much never going to show up. Just not my thing.

That being said I am a reader. I am usually reading more than one book at a time and I always read for an hour in bed at night, usually 8-9:00 p.m. I don't generally watch television so while the men folk catch up on the Sara Conner Chronicles, I'm reading. This year I decided to stop buying books which wasn't easy for me. Books are my luxury item. But I realize that much as I love owning them, I don't need stacks of books all over the house and it's money better spent elsewhere. Now I go to the library every 3-4 weeks and check out a stack. I actually love the library so I'm not in too much pain. Our city has a library system and the nearest local branch is called the Snow Branch (pretty name, huh?) It's an older building as any proper library should be. My only complaint is that it's rather on the small side and I predict I will have more or less exhausted it by year's end. The good news is that the city does have several branches and there's another one five minutes away so I'll just have to expand a bit. Well for heaven's sake, obviously all of them are within the city so I guess I'm not exactly braving the wild frontier here.

I generally check out 3 fiction and 2-3 nonfiction books at once and read one from each category at a time. Some books are good reads but not good bedtime reads; I choose the more peaceful ones for bed. Currently reading the biography of James Herriot. LOVE James Herriot. Just finished 'Bridge of Sighs' which was good too. It was basically written from the perspective of a man in his sixties writing his own memoir and I love that kind of detailed historical story where I can picture the rooms of the houses and the voices of the people. It had a goodness to the story if that makes sense. The main character, Lou, and Bobby were best friends from boyhood through high school. Lou's wife, Sarah, meets Bobby in high school and they become close as well. Bobby leaves town and they lose touch over the intervening years leaving Sarah and Lou happy in their lives but both suspecting that Sarah could have loved Bobby instead. In the end through the unfolding of Lou's life from early childhood to 64 years old the characters are flawed but good and come to realize that the love they have invested in one another was the right love. I'm probably not doing the story justice but I appreciated the fact that the human doubt and imperfection were there without the author taking them into immorality and destruction. The characters controlled the impulses that would've torn their friendships and marriages apart because they were wrong, not because they always felt like it. And in the process they built a beautiful life that was no compromise of what might have been but far superior to what they could have imagined. I finished the book convinced again that people do not live free of doubts and second-guesses but can still find ultimate joy and completion if they stay the course of what is right. And let's be honest, most of us (all?) have moments when we wonder, what if I would've done this differently?

So that's my latest review. I'm about half way through the Herriot biography and starting 'The Last Town On Earth." That one is more disturbing so I probably won't make it my bedtime story, it's about a town wiped out by Spanish Influenza at the turn of the century and the descriptions of the victims are very graphic.

So, what are you reading?

April 12, 2009

Isaiah 60:1-2 Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the LORD is risen upon thee. For, behold, the darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the people: but the LORD shall arise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen upon thee.

Eastering

1. Singing

2. Laughing

3. Forgiving

4. Celebrating

5. Eating

6. Remembering

7. Thanking

8. Crying

9. Living

10. Worshiping

and apparently smoking a stogy whilst decorating eggs...

Barabbas

Luke 23: 18 And they cried out all at once, saying, Away with this man, and release unto us Barabbas...

I have decided that today I am releasing Barabbas. At the trial of Jesus, the crowd was asked who should released by their Passover custom; Barabbas or Jesus? The known criminal or the Messiah? The crowd cried out for the release of Barabbas and Jesus was led away for crucifixion. This is the day we have chosen to recognize the sacrificial death of Jesus. Just like all of us, Barabbas' life was bought by Christ.

I don't know if this will become a part of my life or just be for this year, but today I am releasing Barabbas. There is a person who I have little patience for. Someone I have a hard time wishing well, whose mistakes I often wish would be noticed. Someone who I want to see suffer the consequences for what he does. I don't know the reason for every offensive act but I do know that some are intentional and some are lies and some are to throw someone else under the bus. He's my Barabbas today. Over and over again I have reacted with confrontation or frustration or, yes I've done this, talking about him to other people. I have heard people talk about him unkindly and even laugh at him and stood on the sidelines enjoying the show. After all, they aren't lying. He's earned every snide remark. I guess you'd say he's a "known criminal." Today I am releasing him. I know full well what he is and is not capable of as I've seen it almost daily. He has no intention of changing and never apologizes. He'll cross my path again next week and do it all over again. For my part, I am done. I am releasing him from all the little punishments I've imposed on him from my own hardened heart to my graceless words. I won't pick the gauntlet back up. I won't respond to another baiting comment or reply to another disrespectful e mail. Today I am setting him free.

This may me nothing to you but if it does strike a familiar chord; cry out to God and release Barabbas. And hide in the shadow of the cross.

U.P.O. Update

I made an appointment finally with the UPO doctor who will see me on May 28 (first new patient appointment available.) They have this cool online registration so you don't have to get there half an hour early to fill out the forms which I liked. But here's a weirdness, first the patient profile asks for gender. Seriously? Do that many men go to the gyno? Secondly under birth control we are offered a vast choice menu none of which include my own method (tubal ligation.) I could choose barrier, spermicide, oral contraceptive, IUD, vasectomy even! Did tubals go out of fashion and no one told me? I feel like I should pick up a pack of condoms so I fit in with men at my gyno office.

Of course, the day after I make my appointment I am home after being up half the night with UPO/third ovary pain. After laying there from 3 a.m. until 5:30 getting increasingly frustrated that I had to get to sleep for work I decided, what the heck? I'm calling off. I make calling off such a big deal like I'm deciding whether to donate a kidney. Actually I once offered to donate a kidney (true story) with much less hesitation. The pain isn't the worst it's ever been but it ain't exactly a good time either. It radiates down my right leg and around my back with some heaviness in the area. Oh, and get this! I go to doctors all within one health system for ease of communication knowing that our hospital can access the records from any facility within the system. So I call the non-gender-discriminatory gyno with the space age online registration and tell her about my labs, recent pap, ultrasound, etc. and she asks me to bring copies to the office. I say, "They were all within your system, can you just access them?" Nope! It's not a huge deal so much as seems like a fairly easy thing to hook up. Maybe the doctor's offices don't have access to the mother ship or some such thing.

And let me tell you this brothers and sisters! If I have to have another pelvic after having one in November and being promised, PROMISED that I need not have another for three years I am going to be very unhappy. If you were here with me I would demonstrate my Papdance. It's not unlike the safety dance. It goes like this:

You lay on your back with feet in the stirrups and immediately being sweating profusely while freezing at the same time. Your lower regions are draped with the paper sheet so you can't see the troops moving in and are dependent on the voice updates ("Here we go. Relax. You're going to feel......") Then the dance begins. You realize the dance has begun because the doctor says things like, "Ok Mrs. Smith, doing fine. Just try to relax. Ok, hang in there. Relax for me. " And then the doctor will pat ever so gently on your outer leg at which point you realize that you are doing the back scoot by pushing against the stirrups. It is not unlike a mechanic pushing himself out from under a car. I actually did an impromptu demonstration of the Papdance at work yesterday albeit whilst sitting in an office chair. And fully clothed.

Speaking of at work and my support system there, they launched into a grand discussion of their prediction of a transvag ultrasound being required which is probably true. The point is they were enjoying the idea entirely too much especially in light of the Papdance. They are certain I will Papdance during this procedure. They are probably right.

And to prove that I have no better taste in work husbands than home husbands, my work husband has named the UPO Uncle Fester and has assigned a voice to it with which he speaks to me. This is so stupid because the voice sounds much more like Cousin It. I am certain the UPO would not sound like that. Then my other co-worker proceeds to suggest they send a microphone in with the ultrasound to find out who is right. This in a medical facility by health care professionals.

Well, that's all the news that's fit to print. For those of you gentlemen who do not go to the gyno yourself on a regular basis, you're welcome for the insider view.

Pic: Entitled 'A Kick To The Ovaries' which is how I feel.

Made

John 8:31 & 32 Then said Jesus to those Jews which believed on him, If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed; And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.

I was thinking about this scripture as I left work today. I was thinking that often this is quoted as the truth will "set" you free when in fact, it will "make" you free. Somewhere deep inside I knew there was a difference but I couldn't put my finger on it. I prayed about it as I was driving, just asking the Holy Spirit to reveal this to me; what is the difference? It seemed that I knew for sure there was a difference but it was just beyond my reach. I even wondered if it was something I had learned once a long time ago and just couldn't bring into focus right now.

Freedom takes many forms and means many things to individual people. I've never been in prison. I've never been in a psychiatric hospital in restraints. I've never been denied civil liberties. I've never been gripped by addiction. I've never been trapped in abuse. And yet, Jesus says that knowing the truth will make me free. This implies that we all need to be made free. Easily reasoned this means free from sin. In fact, this is scriptural in itself. While I am aware that I've been freed from the consequence of my sin even this didn't quite satisfy my question. What is freedom to me? What might the truth make free in me?

And do I understand if I have been set free or made free?

When I think of freedom I find a single word to encompass all that it is and that word is forgiveness. Forgiveness to me is freedom. This is the forgiveness of Christ modeled by the Mr. when I was a rotten wife in my twenties and he forgave as Jesus does. He forgave me with complete amnesty. A few times over the years immediately following our healing I'd begin to succumb to satan's accusations of how worthless I was. This would drive me to ask Dean's forgiveness again and again for old wounds. He didn't re-forgive me. He told me there was nothing left to forgive. It was not only gone in word but released from his heart. His hurt and anger was set free; and through this I was made free. I don't ask his forgiveness any longer because forgiveness that is truly given is once and forever. I continue to bask in the warmth of forgiveness first spoken over me eighteen years ago.

As for me, Christ in me healed the sickness in my heart when I truly and sincerely asked him to without motive to take it back and use it again. So I forgave Dean. I set him free from the labels I had placed on him and the list of offenses I had hung above his head. I set him free and I was made free.

Life is forever freeing those around us as we emulate Christ. If you are unable, for whatever reason, to meet my needs; I set you free from that expectation. And I am made free from disappointment. If you have sinned against me and do not want to make amends; I set you free from the voice of my accusations. And I am made free from anger.

Finally, this evening, I understood. To be set free someone has to be holding you captive. Someone is in control of your liberty. And in this, the captor is also imprisoned. If I have locked someone behind a door named "Hurt" I must stand on the other side of that door holding it shut. I must continually look at the Hurt and remember you as the one who wounded me. I cannot walk away from the door and into the light of Christ and the life he intends for me because if I step away you might escape. So I stand with my hand against the door holding you within your mistake. We are both captive.

When I embrace wisdom and faith; I will be drawn toward Christ and in the process I'll take my hand off the door. You will be set free.

I am made free. I was never the one behind the door so I am not set free. I am made free. I am changed into someone who sees grace and allows it to bathe my soul. I cannot hold a door shut against you. Grace takes its hand off the door and the prisoner within walks out. My freedom is that I no longer hold doors shut with pain, disappointment, fear, rage, anger, bitterness locked inside.

So forgiveness is freedom for me. My own forgiveness that so encompasses my being that I am not just set free from what was, I am made free and therefore not subject to what may be. I am free and cannot be again imprisoned. On either side of the door.

Christ recreated me, and in this, I was created free. I was reborn free. I am made free.

Maybe that is why my hands are free to stretch toward heaven.

Teachers

"My parents were terrible people and I learned everything from them. I learned what not to be."

I heard this quote from an elderly gentlemen years ago and have never forgotten it. For the first time I realized that I had been dividing the world into good influences and bad; then doing my best to overcome the bad. When I heard these words my entire outlook changed. The number of teachers in my life grew enormously in a matter of seconds. Everyone is now my teacher. If there is great value in being taught how to do things right, there is as much value in learning how to avoid doing them wrong.

There was a time in this country when pioneers loaded their families into wagons and headed away from all influence except those that lived under the same roof. They considered themselves able to build a life out of the prairie and children could find all they needed in their parents. Everything from schoolwork to baking a pie to building a home out of nothing was the responsibility of a mother and father. Everything one needed to know was there at the dinner table.

In a little over one hundred years we have learned another lesson. If someone does wrong to me or in my presence, I am exempt from that particular issue as well as any I can attach to it. Bad parenting means I can be selfish, foolish or cruel. Bad marriages mean we can be spiteful. Bad bosses mean we can...walk into a building and shoot as many people as we can find before being shot ourselves. Anywhere that terrible people populate our worlds we become mercenaries whose only responsibility now is to survive by any means possible.

I believe with all of my heart that we are a poor reflection of the people who came before us. In my lifetime, even in Christian homes, the standard has changed. I was raised on if it is wrong, you will not do it. Now there are a million reasons you can do things that used to be wrong. Someone hurting or disappointing us means our rules change.

I am so thankful for this man who taught me that simple lesson in an off-handed comment during a long conversation. "I learned what not to be." My lessons are learned, for the most part, much more quickly now. Instead of turning my eyes away from the bad lessons or using them as an excuse why I cannot be held to account, I look closely. I study the people who not only make vicious decisions with intent to hurt others but those who through their own humanity stumble as do we all. I watch the wives who have beautiful marriages as well as the ones whose marriages have ended badly. Both offer me a great gift. Not just the ones who have affairs can teach me but the ones who maybe just took things for granted. I do not judge but I do pay attention.

I notice the parents and the adult children in families and try to find the secret path around their struggles. I study the employees and the bosses and ask God to help me find the nuances.

The days of pioneer families taking responsibility to live before God, their families and their community with honor and courage is gone. But there are no fewer teachers to be found.

We all represent an opportunity to one another...my prayer is that I will not be one of whom it is said, "She taught me what not to be."

Remind Me Again Why I Love This Guy?

On a pretty regular basis we talk about my hair on this blog. I have crappy hair. Although I am very apt to change my style drastically on a regular basis I think in truth longer is better. I've been told the pony is my best look, which I think is a gentle way of telling me to give it up. True story, I have gotten a headache trying to hold my hair style in place with my scalp muscles.

In fact, Mac best likes my hair when I'm wearing a ball cap.

Anyway, I spend money on my hair. I do. I go to the hair dresser every 8 weeks although it should be six. I give lots of thought to color, which I will also change on a whim. I am drawn to hair jewelry such as headbands and barrettes. Bad hair has more than once made me consider calling off work and yes, I've washed my hair and started all over again. Good hair products don't come cheap. And bottles lie.

I decided to be a good shopper and buy different (cheaper) products last week. Volumizing they claimed. Liars. Anyway, the mousse stuff is marginally acceptable but the hair spray (hair spray is my best friend) is a joke. It may very well be water for all the good it did me. It not only did not volumize as promised but it down-right flattened.

On Saturday we get in the car to do errands and I'm trying to embrace the lesser hair product and tell myself the difference is only noticeable to me. I don't have good hair anyway. But as we pull into the Target parking lot, I can't stand it anymore. I turn to the Mr. and say that I need to buy some hair products. He reminds me that we bought hair products just last week. So I tell him, yeah, I used the new cheaper stuff this morning.

One Mississippi.

Two Mississippi.

"Let's go get you some new hair products."

Just once can't the guy lie and tell me I have great hair? When I'm not wearing a hat?

April 5, 2009

Isaiah 42: 9 Behold, the former things are come to pass, and new things do I declare: before they spring forth I tell you of them.

Spring...

1. Open windows

2. Flowers

3. No jackets

4. Furnace off

5. Grilling

6. Sun in the evening

7. Birds in the morning

8. Deck sitting

9. T shirts, jeans & flip flops

10. Just in time

Oh So Pretty!

Do you need to feel pretty? Well, I do. I know it's rather a shallow goal in life but doggone, I want to be pretty! And pretty doesn't come naturally to me. Don't bother commenting that you think I'm beautiful (some of you are already typing aren't you?) Doesn't matter, pretty is in the eye of the beholder and I am the beholder. So I guess you can add vain to pretty.

Twenty five pounds of extra weight has me less than thrilled with my appearance and the answer to that is clear so we'll move on.

I don't necessarily need to be the prettiest person in the room or even to know that other people think I'm pretty but I want to feel pretty. Of course, we all know the enemy number one of prettiness...bad hair. I have bad hair. Charles Manson would be ashamed to have my hair. And I have taken note of people running from the Twin Towers or standing on their roof tops during Katrina and thought to myself, "Their hair looks really good." I have looked at patients and thought that the worst part of a psychiatric hospitalization would have to be the lack of access to styling tools. I'd never look stable enough for discharge! Ironically, I am forever in search of a fabulous do that requires absolutely no effort as I hate styling my hair.

Something magical (and by that I mean dark magic) happened to my face around age 40. It went from marginally acceptable to impossible to figure out. I have dark circles that cannot be hidden. Well, perhaps if I purchased the $40 Oil Of Olay eye care system that I spent 1/2 an hour considering at Target they could be. But within my current beauty budget it's impossible. I have scant eye lashes and I actually have bad eye lash days. Seriously.

I continually change my make-up regime trying to examine the beautiful people on television and mimic their cosmeteticals. One month I will be convinced darker lips are the thing that I need! Next month, clear gloss is the answer! Darker foundation to warm me up or lighter to make me shimmer? And what exactly does one look like when shimmering? There's a lot of promises of shimmering out there but I'm not seeing any difference in the mirror.

Don't get me started on my teeth! I actually (true story) have recurring nightmares about my teeth.

Still, I want to feel pretty. There is no conclusion to this post. I'm just saying...

Hate

There's this someone, none of you know him. But he's up to no good. A few of us are well aware of what he's doing but there's nothing illegal happening, just immoral. Just manipulation and deceit. Just taking advantage of a situation. Just pretending to care, to hurt with us while he's behind the scenes contributing to the hurt. Just putting us on our guard where once we were defenses-down trusting with each other.

It would be so easy to hate him.

So natural to drive down the road thinking of ways to get him back. Dreaming of the moment when everything crashes in, hoping he'll self-destruct. So tempting to change, ever so slightly, my own behavior to make his life just a bit more difficult. To expose his weaknesses by not covering him with my strengths. To gather together those in the know and whisper about what a fool he's making of himself and warning each other to be careful! To smile on the inside imagining his downfall.

So easy to hate. But when you've let Christ in, truly in to your heart the ease of hate becomes quickly a heavy sickness you can feel in your belly. Hatred bunches up in my shoulder muscles and tightens my brow and steals away the happiness that normally fills my mind. Hatred pushes the foundations out from under me and sends me into a fall that is happening only on my insides but feels like I'm crashing against concrete.

Christ makes the sky beautiful and the wind soothing and goodness reaches out from every side.

Christ in me makes it so hard to hate.

Galatians 2:20I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.

You've Been Served

I am a very average person who occasionally masquerades as an over-achiever. Don't get me wrong, I love me some applause when I score big. In my thirties I was still showing my parents my college report cards. But I am not a true over-achiever. I have to work my butt off to get there. Which brings with it a good degree of anxiety because it's always a possibility that I won't quite reach the mark and then instead of being an average person I am a failed over-achiever. It used to make the Mr. nuts when I'd study around the clock because an "A" was the only acceptable grade. As far as he was concerned, a little less stress and a passing "C" was just as good. In fact, our Dean of Nursing told us at orientation, "C = RN." Sure enough, those C=RNs make as much as me and very rarely is there an opportunity to slide my GPA into lunchtime conversation.

What I've learned as a quasi-over-achiever is that you have to know why you're pushing yourself so hard or all of those impressive accomplishments will leave a bad taste in your mouth. Eventually, no matter how great you did, the standing ovations will sit down and life will move on. Something else will come along to push you out of the limelight and fewer conversations will venture into a review of your resume. Then what? On to the next challenge! It's easy to become like a little kid trying to sing louder than all the other little kids...look at me! In the grown-up world it can be taking on yet another project at work that you know will drown you but you want everyone to see how amazing you are. Or picking up another ministry at church so your list of service is at least one item longer than someone else's. Or volunteering for the task no one else wants to do so that others know you're just a little better than the average guy.

Or refusing to go out to dinner because five less minutes of studying might get you a B in Anatomy instead of an A. A B is so...average.

When you put 110% into life you teach people that this is what they can expect from you. That's not a bad thing at all. In fact, I think it is a reflection of Christ in us. I was always taught that as a Christian, I should be the best employee in the place. With maturity I am finding that I get confused when I start getting my pay-off from people instead of the Lord. I should be the best because of my desire for Christ to show through me. In honestly, I am guilty of wanting the attention of others and being disappointed when it fell short. If truly I were representing Christ, only his pleasure in me would motivate me. When I start to rein in that prideful spirit, because that is what we're talking about, I feel much more comfortable NOT doing the extra project. It'll take a little bit of time to learn this if you are a quasi-over-achiever like me. With a history of being the Amazing Sara (gag), I am often given just one more committee or one more policy or one more whatever to handle because I'll do it and do it well. When I start to do these outstanding things with resentment I know it's time to rein the Amazing Sara in. You want to know a really nasty little secret? I actually have taken on more than I can handle because I don't want someone else to get credit for it. Terrible. I know. I am a credit hog. If there's something out there to which I can attach my name, I am tempted to jump on it. Don't tell anyone. And yes, I am entirely aware this is an issue of self-esteem which is exactly what I was saying a paragraph ago. Seeking gratification from a source other than God. I'm sure I'm the only such person out there.

I'm learning now to say I cannot do this or that. Or I just don't want to. How do you like that? It is a balancing act to be so free that I am comfortable refusing to take on anything and doing my fair share and doing it well. Someone recently told me that they are sick unto death of the latest Christian buzzword...serving. I just love to serve, I can't serve enough, I want to serve everyone, I know all this serving I do is wearing me out but I can't help it, I am such a servant. Puke. That's a direct quote, puke.

The over-achieving Christian is called a servant in 2009. We've made the title of servant a joke. It happens innocently as churches try to survive by teaching the Biblical truth of serving others. However, we've lost control of the idea. Now serving is only recognized in the form of a sign-up sheet and a commitment of a prescribed number of hours. The daughter who is spoon-feeding her dying mother and so cannot work in the nursery is lost in the hierarchy of service. The family trying to work two jobs and keep a roof over their kids heads are not plugged in because they have to choose between time at home as a family or organizing games at the church picnic and they chose the former. Serving can become like a Girl Scout's sash as we all compete for badges. The trouble is; the invisible badges, the private sacrifices; don't count.

Be careful, you Christian over-achievers. Be careful that you are not being lured into the collection of badges. Be careful that you lack the wisdom to know where the yes and nos belong. As soon as I hear myself listing my accomplishments, either out loud or to myself; I know I've entered into dangerous territory. The divine payback to service is peace. Where peace is lacking in the midst of busyness it is time to reconsider.

Matthew 6:2-4 Therefore, when you do a charitable deed, do not sound a trumpet before you as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory from men. Assuredly, I say to you, they have their reward. But when you do a charitable deed, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, that your charitable deed may be in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will Himself reward you openly.

3/29/09

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28

I Do Not Like Them Sam I Am

1. Professional massages.

2. French pedicures.

3. Sweet iced tea.

4. Parties.

5. E mails that insist I forward them to 12 other people to prove I love the sender.

6. Talking on the phone.

7. Loud music.

8. Chick flicks.

9. Satin sheets.

10. Dressing up.

The Things I Never Asked For

Every single day I read each of your blogs and stop to pray, praise, laugh and cry with you. And I always think to myself that I'll drop back by to leave a comment but it just doesn't seem to get done lately. So here I am to tell you that I'm there with you even when I'm not checking in officially.

I've been working long hours lately. I am not complaining, please understand me! In this economy who could dare to complain of too much work? Not I! I, who have always only tolerated working, am now humbled and grateful to have this job and to have more than enough hours to fill a week. Despite this new attitude I remain a woman with rather the metabolism of a slug so I'm tired. And my health, although definitely on the upswing, isn't quite up to par yet. My doctor has given me two referrals to specialists that I really need to move on but days keep flying by without that appointment yet made. I know, I know. I will take care of it.

I look in wonder at God's provision despite having been the recipient of his care for all of my life. I am still amazed at how he moves on my life and my thoughts to effect changes that I would argue were unnecessary.

In a few months I will be at my five year anniversary as a nurse. I started nursing school in 2002 and it was in impulse decision. I had a job I loved with the school system and out of nowhere sitting in our favorite Mexican restaurant one evening I said to the Mr., "I think I'll go to nursing school." And the Mr., who always loved my school year schedule said, "That's great. When do you want to enroll?" We had never even imagined I would be a nurse. If anything, the plan was to be a teacher and even that was always a someday. So how nursing became the plan suddenly is only because, as so often I do, I assumed the Holy Spirit's voice was my own brilliance. Being my own idea it must be a good one.

I never considered that four years later my gramma would be gone and I would being buying her house. On my nurse's salary. I hadn't given a moment's concern that the automotive industry would become like a foundation of sand. And I might have to support us. On my nurse's salary. Do you want to know my big aspiration? I mean, it was enormous. So profound I shared it with my mom. My motivation was being able to afford a nice graduation party for each of my children.

Maybe a house wouldn't have moved me. Maybe paying the bills would've seemed terrifying. But throwing a nice graduation party? That seemed like just enough of a plan.

Never being done with my life, the Lord put this new position in front of me a year and a half ago. I had no interest in changing facilities, in taking on new challenges. And then all of a sudden...you guessed it. I think "I'll apply for this job!" And the Mr. who was quite happy with my current job schedule said,"Great idea!"

And here I am, more secure yet than I was 18 months ago.

A year ago I was three months in to my new job and enjoying it thoroughly while always looking with longing back over my shoulder. I missed my friends. I missed the doctors and patients I knew so well. I missed the hospital itself and the people I passed in the hallways and the security guys and the unit secretary who always shared a pile of snacks with me at the nurse's station and danced with me to Christmas music. And I think once I may have cut her hair but that's not really important. I was unsettled because I kept looking back and wishing I could've remained in that place where I was sure that I was good at what I was doing instead of wondering if I'd ever figure out what I was doing. So I did go back. I interviewed to see if there was anything there for me. And guess what? THEY TURNED ME DOWN! Can you freaking believe it?

Today I don't look back any longer. When I tried to push that door back open God shut it and put his foot against it. I couldn't pry it back open. That's one of the best parts of being His. Even when I'm stupidly trying to mess it all up, He steps in knowing that even as my flesh battles my spirit is submitted. He stops me against my own will.

So now I go to work in that new place and look around at something I didn't see a year ago. Something I though I'd left behind for good. I see my friends. People who have come to know me and I them. People who make coffee in the morning and wait for me to arrive so we can sit together to start our day. People who laugh at me the way you do with friends whom you trust.

No, nothing in my life has been loss. There has been only gain. Not the loss of old friends with the gain of new ones. The gain of more friends. I still know those people who used to work with me and care about them the same. We've remained together in a new way. Now I walk into a new place and into the company of people who care just as much.

So yes, I am often too tired to leave a clever comment. And yes, lately I've been under the weather. And yes, the economy is the pits. I will not call my life overwhelming. It is full. Full of things I didn't know I would need. Joy I didn't know was yet to be discovered. Friends I didn't know would become so very precious to me.

Lots to do at work. Lots of hours in my days. And a heart fully thankful.

Psalm 90:17 And let the beauty of the LORD our God be upon us, And establish the work of our hands for us; Yes, establish the work of our hands.

Hello

Good Monday! Long weekend at work and not feeling quite up to par have me moving slowly this morning. Usually by this time I'm up, dressed, housework done and ready for the day. By which I mean ready to lay on the couch and read. I'm still working around the house and have no motivation to meet my one goal; drug store. The Mr. stayed home today and is working hard covering the entire house in a fine layer of dust as he is doing some trimming around our "fridge hole" to make room for our new fridge. Not our new fridge exactly but the fridge we bought before we moved that we just now moved over here. I'd go into the details but even I'm not all that interested.

I declared myself pain free and then had a few days of not so pain free. I'm not exactly feeling terrible but I can tell that my one dose of Vitamin D hasn't completely restored me to balance. I have a few doctor's names that I am referred to for further consideration of my U.P.O. (Unidentified Pelvic Object.)

Other than my third ovary and our fridge what is there to share? I got five new books from the library and have finished one, which was quite good. "Love And Houses." A woman's husband leaves her in her last trimester of pregnancy with their apartment for sale, a bridge loan and mortgage on a school house they bought to renovate into a home for themselves and their first child. She decides she can't handle the renovation and to stay in her apartment and sell the school house even at a loss when the apartment sells out from under her; the entire building. Very good. A mixture of relationship stuff (but not romance stuff which makes me gag) and home decor. What more could you ask for?

Speaking of home decor, I have several little projects in my head for around here that can possibly be done without the major $$ needed for the big project, that being the family room/kitchen. That one will have to hold for a bit.

I have an antique wicker sofa and chair that was my gramma's and then my mom's and then my living room furniture when we were first married. It's now stored in the basement in the old old house and looking a bit rough around the edges. I'm thinking of hauling it out, repainting it and eliciting my mom to recover the cushions. I elicit my mom to recover things semiannually and we are successful in my fabric choice and her handiwork about half of the time. But the lady on television tells me this is a fun and inexpensive way to repurpose things I find around the house. So here is the latest consideration, my exterior is gray and white. The house, not me personally. Well, actually me personally as well. Anyway; we have a wide front porch and a back deck. I have lawn furniture for my back deck and then there is the wicker. I'm undecided as to putting the lovely wicker (which will surely turn out spectacularly or horrifical) on the front porch for the enjoyment of passersby or on the back deck for my personal enjoyment. Do not suggest that I put it on the front porch so that I may sit there calling out greetings to the neighbors and fetching cups of Kool-Aid for children riding their bikes past our house. I have already christened the Spring season by sending the Mr. over to the neighbors to insist they turn down their radio. I'd likely greet passers-by with "What are you lookin at?" So there's the placement question. And then the facelift of the wicker question. What color paint and cushions? Black comes to mind with some kind of red fabric print. Cherries or some such thing. Which I'll never find once I decide it's exactly what's needed. Or red paint and some other fabric? Or something truly daring like orange! My lawn furniture has orange cushions and it's very groovy.

Moving on, my mom made slip covers for my sofa pillows which turned out beautifully much unlike the slip cover she made for my gramma's arm chair which turned out quite like a project one of my patients might make that would prove they were not ready to re enter society. I think we should recover my camel back sofa. By that I mean she should recover it.

Well, that's all that is rattling around in my head. Feel free to post your ideas as I am sure this is all you can think about now.

3/22/09

Exodus 3:14 And God said to Moses, “I AM WHO I AM.” And He said, “Thus you shall say to the children of Israel, ‘I AM has sent me to you.’”

I

1. Suddenly realize I must have a round red coffee table for my C. S. Lewis room.

2. Believe in vitamins (now.)

3. Am working this weekend.

4. Cleaned my house yesterday.

5. Also caught up my laundry yesterday.

6. Need groceries. Hope the Mr. takes care of that!

7. Am going to see Beany in some kind of dinner theatre thing.

8. Do not know when said dinner theatre thing starts.

9. Also do not know where my tickets are.

10. Am tired.

The D

I have finally gotten the diagnosis for my mystery ailment and I'm encouraging all of you to consider being tested as well. The rheumatologist ran a Vitamin D level which I honestly did not take all that seriously. I'm relatively young, usually healthy and eat a balanced diet. Besides, I am not convinced that vitamins are real things.

Anyway, the office called today with a lot of concern, my level is 7. Less than 10 is seriously deficient and some ugly things can result. My recent symptoms plus a few bonus things I usually just tolerate are likely connected. The doctor has called a three month prescription in and I'll have to be regularly retested. Naturally when I got the news I did a quick internet search and found there is real reason to be concerned about Vitamin D and to take this seriously. I'm thankful that I have not only a diagnosis but a relatively easy treatment and I'm looking forward to feeling better. So! Get tested!

Turns out vitamins might be real things after all.

However, there is no way mitochondria are real.

Whatsoever Things

Philippians 4:8 (King James Version)
8Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.

I'm sarcastic and pretty blunt by nature. All of us have certain defense mechanisms (said the psych nurse) that make us more comfortable with other people and my main one has been witty pessimism. People who know me forgive me for it and people who don't sometimes think I'm pretty edgy. As I've gotten older and experienced more I have not so much outgrown the snarky edge as become more comfortable in my own skin and needed it less. Oh, it is still a part of my personality and I doubt it will ever go away completely. I have come to realize that sometimes I am the stronger one and my sarcastic asides might be amusing and get me a quick laugh but an opportunity to put balance into the world is lost if I'm not careful.

I am still motivated by a deep need for reality and the more someone seems to be skirting issues the more I need to dig in and put a spotlight on it. This is often interpreted as being unkind and that isn't my motivation. I just don't have the knack for foolishness. For instance, the kid who drops out of school and moves around from friend to friend's house saying he can't get tied down to a job because he is going to be drafted into the NFL and he needs to be available and work out constantly. Come on, you are just asking for me to put some balance into your world.

When you become the mom or the supervisor or the mentor or just the oldest one in your crowd (all of which I apparently am!); you have to choose your attitude more purposefully. When I was a floor nurse I could be funny in my negative "all is lost" way but not anymore. Now I am a supervisor and I have to take responsibility for the impact of my demeanor. And let me add, from this perspective I see the impact of everyone else's demeanor and realize it might not always be so funny. My assumption was that I knew when a zinger was appropriate. Everyone else has the same assumptions and the truth is, we are all wrong.

Is it ever ok to embrace my inner snarky self? I think it is. I think it is part of who I am and used with some care I can break tension and soften the glare when the spotlight is too harsh. But I watched a news story about a group of kids and their desperation regarding the economy and thought to myself, somebody has to speak life into the world. My auto worker husband is on a pattern of work one week and laid off one week. He has a worried edge that's unusual for him. Marriages are toppling at an alarming rate. People carry burdens of parents with Alzheimer's, domestic abuse, loved ones with cancer and these are people I see everyday. A zinger here and there might offer a moment of comic relief but well-placed words of peace and truth could be soul repair.

The common denominator of the world's situation is that life is out of control. Somehow people have paid their mortgages and gone to work every day and can't afford groceries. Somehow families that loved their children and did all they knew to do are watching those children throw everything away to promiscuity, alcohol, drugs or just plain stupidity that will change the course of their lives. Somehow I can do everything as right as I know how and still get derailed.

That is why I have to take notice that a cheap laugh or avoidance of a topic might be a missed opportunity for soul repair. I will not speak continually of death whether it is literal death or the death of hope. I won't use this blog as a platform for my somebody done somebody wrong song. I won't feed the monster of negativity.

It's time for all of us take responsibility for the impact of our words and attitudes and realize that hell runs on the fuel of our actions. I'm asking you to hold me accountable. If you see this blog becoming the journal of my disappointment; remind me.

Day Two

with no pain! Here's a picture of me this morning.

More Mustard Seeds

I went back to work this morning. Off my medication. I had pain this morning despite taking 800 mg of Motrin. Then later in the day when the Motrin had worn off; I was feeling better. Now after being home a few hours and just taken a hot shower; my right calf hurts. Ridiculous.

It was good to be back to work despite having crazy legs and a U.P.O. Although no one loves being home more than me, I want more to be healthy. And even though I'm moving a bit slowly I'm able to do what I need to do. So, thank you Jesus.

I have been thinking about the mustard seeds I wrote about in my last post. About how, they are sown in the soil as something so small it seems almost insignificant but grow into a great tree that shelters all the birds of the air. It makes me think of my own life and how the Kingdom of God only shows through me when I allow the insignificance of who I am to be covered over and unseen so that God can become greater. When I let my own agendas and ideas be buried I become the Kingdom of God in flesh. People can come to me and find shelter. This is who I want to be. I want people to be drawn to me not because of anything I am but because they are drawn to Christ in me. And Christ in me is only expressed one way and that is in love. Love spoken in mercy, grace, service, kindness, smiles, forgiveness. All the ways that Christ loves are all the branches that I need to bring into the world. Under these limbs the hurting and lost and unsure and feeble can find soft light and gentle breezes. In the shadow I cast I want comfort to fall over those around me.

It sounds so simple and yet I know I have so far to go. I keep burying the mustard seeds of my flesh but before they can take root I tend to dig them up. I want to hold them in my fist, maybe it's because I know when the mustard tree finally grows up from the seeds I bury it will no longer be me that is seen. It will be the Kingdom Of God. I know, though, that all the seeds in my hand will only die without purpose if I do not cover them over. Hidden in the darkness of the earth life is finally able to take root and push through to daylight.

Like Christ, hidden in darkness for three days, to come out with eternity shining from his fingertips. Or perhaps, with mustard seeds in his hands. Just waiting to be planted.

Mustard Seeds

This past week of sick leave from work and daily visits to doctors and tests hasn't left me overly concerned. I would like a name for this condition but if it suddenly disappears unnamed, that's fine too. I've had much worse feeling days that did have a name...the flu, sinus infection, bronchitis. And the worst of all...depressed, anxious, hopeless, lost. In the grand scheme of things this has been a minor blip on the wellness radar. That is, of course, speaking from the perspective that it gets better not worse. Yes, my legs still hurt. No, not as badly. As for the unidentified pelvic object (and no, it is not a third ovary as some people have hypothesized); we'll follow up with that over the next month.

Putting aches and pains and medical leaves aside, I have been more interested in the enormity of my blessings. Each evening as I take a long hot shower and feel those aches ease I feel God's favor in the healing spray of water. As I turn back my bed and warm up my blankets I look forward to sliding into clean, fresh smelling sheets where I will read for a little while under the warm glow of my bedside lamp on my pistachio green walls. I pamper myself every night with lotions and smell-goods and choose my wardrobe for sleep; night gown? flannel pajamas? Every little nuance reminds me to take note of the comfort that surrounds me.

These are my thoughts as I drift off to sleep. Goodness and healing. Provision. Abundance. I am not a spiritual giant. I awaken every morning and take a moment to discover if this is the morning when I'll be better; as promised by the doctor. And there is a twinge of disappointment when my legs still hurt. There have been fleeting moments when satan has filled my mind with threats of chronic illness and debilitating diseases. But giants are not what is needed. After all, Goliath fell and Zacchias saw Jesus.

The update for today is that I still have pain but I have stopped taking my medicine and the level is much lower than it was a week ago. As always, life is about gathering mustard seeds against moments of heart ache.

My dad came over with Tim Horton's coffee...mustard seed. Dean happened to be laid off this week so he has been with me watching movies, cooking dinners and keeping me company...mustard seed. There was a robin on my backyard fence and we grilled chicken for dinner and I watched an old Shirley Temple movie and I am wearing a warm old sweatshirt and my legs do feel better and there's a big basket of fruit on my kitchen table and we had dinner with friends and I only got sick from my medicine once and my linen closet is full of fresh towels and linens and Dean bought Fresca at the grocery store and I just had a bagel with peanut butter and my peach tea smells wonderful and I have plates with lemons on them and there's always something fabulous on HGTV and Donny is snoring away in his kennel.

And a thousand other mustard seeds that are much more powerful than any giant.

So instead of worry or frustration, I'll be gathering mustard seeds. From there will grow the faith that we all need every morning. Even if your legs don't hurt.

Mark 4:30-32 And he said, Whereunto shall we liken the kingdom of God? or with what comparison shall we compare it? It is like a grain of mustard seed, which, when it is sown in the earth, is less than all the seeds that be in the earth: But when it is sown, it groweth up, and becometh greater than all herbs, and shooteth out great branches; so that the fowls of the air may lodge under the shadow of it.

March 15, 2009

Psalm 139:16

Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them.

This & That

1. Went to P.F. Chang with friends.

2. Went to a new doctor who was less than helpful.

3. Experimenting with not taking my medicine so I can stay awake long enough to see how I feel.

4. Craving fresh fruit.

5. Thinking about giving myself a manicure.

6. Eating too much; home & bored.

7. Doctor's orders: stay very, very still.

8. Doctor's prognosis: "We really don't know what is going on but I predict you will wake up one morning and be better and we'll never know what the problem was."

9. Gonna make tuna fish sandwiches for lunch.

10. Expecting to be back to work on Monday. Hoping that miracle morning will come by that time.

U. P. O

This is a first for me, I'm off work on a medical leave until Monday. Having some weird leg pain and an ultrasound of my pelvis revealed "an object dorsal to the uterus 4cm x 3cm with arterial flow." On the left side is described a perfectly lovely little ovary so we aren't sure what this unidentified pelvic object is. I have had some severe pain in that region the last few days hence the ultrasound. The tech offered to do a bonus trans vag ultrasound which I declined; not wanting to be greedy. Well guess what? Hey, what could be more fun that drinking 40 ounces of fluid, not being allowed to pee and have a probe stuck into a very personal orifice?

I had labs drawn by my doctor that were almost normal but just not normal enough to send me to a rheumatologist on Friday morning. For now a couple of prescriptions are managing my pain effectively (and putting me to sleep for most of the day) and steroids are being considered but it's a little complicated because I would have to be weaned off of another medication so that plan is on hold. I'm on strict instructions to be "as inactive as possible just short of bed rest." This is no problem as it pretty much describes my baseline activity-wise.

So for now my days are a balance of "Yikes! The meds are wearing off!" to taking the meds and falling asleep until the next round. The Mr. is attempting to be my caregiver by not understanding anything I am explaining to him medically but jumping up and pushing me back down on to the couch every time I stand up to do something strenuous like get a glass of water.

For today I am watching television and catnapping as the medications kick in. I mentioned perhaps going to the library which caused the Mr. to gasp as though I had announced my intention to re-shingle the roof while I'm off. Tomorrow morning is the rheumatologist. I am relatively certain no one will be able to diagnose anything kind of like when my car makes a klooopigy sound until I get it to the mechanic. I'll drop you an update afterward. In the meantime, I think I'm due for another nap and thanking you in advance for your prayers which I know are there without my asking.

Love you guys; updates to follow.

Psalm 16:9 Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth: my flesh also shall rest in hope.

UPDATE: I saw the rheumatologist this morning who reached the conclusion that I am a "mystery" and probably fell down some stairs or something and that's why my legs hurt. She wants me to be very still and restful this weekend and then on Monday, if I feel better I should stop taking my medication and go back to work. Oh; and the final prognosis? Evidently I will very likely wake up one morning feeling perfectly well and we'll never know what happened.

March 8, 2009

Psalm 39:7 And now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in thee.

Currently

1. Have the hiccups.

2. Reading "Flights of the Mind, An Autobiography of Leonardo Da Vinci"

3. Crushing on Paul Newman in Cat On a Hot Tin Roof.

4. Wearing a lavender nightgown & fleece slippers.

5. Having a bottle of O'Doul's and an orange Metamucil chaser every evening.

6. Loving my house.

7. Working long hours.

8. Noticing my pants are a little looser.

9. Doing Yoga (well, not this very minute.)

10. Happy.

Marriage

The break-up of marriages fascinates me. Does that sound morbid? Several years ago a few of the couples we knew divorced. Now we seem to be seeing the cycle repeat itself. It's not in the dishing the dirt sense this fascinates me, but in the sense that I need to know in general; what goes wrong? Our history precludes me from any form of arrogance regarding my marriage. I don't think anybody is bullet-proof. Actually everybody believes they are going to last forever at some point. So I continually ask, where do we step over the line?

You could read books and articles and watch talk shows around the clock and hear a million theories...communication, trust, sex, finances, expectations, boredom, etc. There are the couples who seem to be falling apart for the entire 60 years they remain married. The ones who are open about their frustration and you see them struggling between staying together and walking away. The ones who look like the couple you wish you were; until you hear that one of them moved out.

There are couples who seem to bicker and tease too much but they can because they know there is a solid foundation underneath it. Other ones are affectionate and sweet but only in public. Some never hold hands and some need to get a room. Some people are ugly (you know you've thought about it!) and happily married and others are beautiful and live in a loveless home. Some couples have everything in common and other couples have nothing in common. What is the secret?

I ask out of my own concern that Dean & I recognize the state of things while there is still time to fix what might be broken. And usually; something is broken. It's just a matter of how large or small the broken thing is.

You don't have to be married to chime in. Everybody has seen great marriage and those that don't make it and you have all asked the questions I'm asking.

Reading Good Housekeeping I am advised to have a scheduled date night, fill a jar with advice for the Mr. to keep me happy, learn a new hobby together, tell each other one positive and one negative thing about the other one, buy pretty lingerie (do my sock monkey shorts count?), make a meal that we eat with our hands, thank him for sex and watch how much other women are drawn to him. All in one issue of the magazine.

Maybe it's because we made such a royal mess of things; Dean & I are very purposeful in our relationship. But I think it's worth talking about in general. Marriages fall apart for one reason at the end of it all; satan attacks us at the core of our being in the attempt to destroy us and all that we touch. How do you beat him?

Two Husbands, One Teenager and A Fat Girl

A couple of weeks into my diet by verbal abuse with my work husband and I'm down about five pounds! I think perhaps my home Mr.'s eating healthier with me might also be helping out. We did a little surfing on our free On Demand menu and found some work out videos so tonight he, Mac and I did The Biggest Loser Cardio Burn.

My everything is quivery and I'm very sweaty but at least feeling back in control.

Meanwhile, tomorrow I may opt for work out clothes other than the red flannel pajamas I wore tonight!

P.S. my work husband is dragging me around doing laps walking the gym every day. There's nowhere to hide this chubby body.

Welcome "Home"

Dean's parents moved to Alabama when the daboyz were dababies. The visits between there and here have been sporadic over the years, 12 hours is a long drive. Dean's mom, Marty, has sisters and a mom still here and his dad, Ben, has one brother. Marty has diabetes and suffers with some serious co morbid medical problems as a result and travel is hard. However, Dean's grandmother is nearing ninety and one of his aunts is ill so she really wants to make a trip north. Sometimes you just need to, you know?

They've never seen our new old house so the Mr. called to tell them that the first week of June, he and I would head to Alabama to pick them up and bring them here for a visit. They were excited, his dad has only recently retired at almost 82 years old and their lives have slowed down. Getting around is harder and they can't make the trip on their own any longer. They will stay with us for that week and do some visiting with family and friends they haven't seen in a while. Please pray for this trip, that they would feel strong enough to make it and that it would be a time of refreshing and renewal for them.

I think the Mr. is pretty excited himself to have them walk through our red front door.

3/1/09

Psalm 47:4-6He shall choose our inheritance for us, the excellency of Jacob whom he loved. Selah. God is gone up with a shout, the LORD with the sound of a trumpet. Sing praises to God, sing praises: sing praises unto our King, sing praises.