Marsha is going south of the border. She worked half a day today. She will be gone for a half a day short of two weeks. Marsha doesn't like me.
I got this idea to give her a Bible to take on her trip. I almost got up the courage to give it to her. I thought of what to say, and I thought I would do it, but then I looked at the Bible.
I have had this Bible for over a year. I have it to give away. One day, though, at Planned Parenthood, I took the plastic wrapping off it, because I forgot my Bible. It is hard to read a Bible with the plastic wrapping still on it.
I always carry my bag with me. It has a stick figure on it, holding a stick Bible, and the caption reads, "I beieve." On Sundays I have my Sunday School stuff in it, and my scarf. On Wednesdays I have my WWEBS stuff in it (I haven't yet come to the conclusion that I should have my scarf on Wednesday nights, since it is Women's Wednesday Evening Bible Study), and on Thursdays, I have my Planned Parenthood resource notebook and hymnal in it. Always, I have this Bible. You never know when I might be able to give it away.
So one day, in the car, I had my Bible, my purse, my bag with the Bible in it, and a softdrink (a big one). This fountain pop had a small enough bottom to fit into the cup holder, and a big top. Around the corner I went, and over the pop went, right into my bag. I was upset to find it, and there was little enough damage for such a large pop to dump into a bag.
The Bible however has tainted edges.
Marsha doesn't like me because I have tainted edges, I think. So when I got the courage up to give her the Bible, and had a notion of what I would say, and I would be really friendly, I saw those tainted edges.
I don't trust God, I guess, to use tainted edged Bibles to make a new heart in someone like Marsha.
She's gone now.
Doesn't God get tired of me?
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Anger @ Planned Parenthood
Psalm 37:1 Do not fret because of evil men
or be envious of those who do wrong
In whom is my trust? If I go to Planned Parenthood, is it to speak my mind? Is it to make myself heard? Is it because I want to be noticed or because I think that I might convince someone to make a different choice? If this is the case then I might be justified to become angry or frustrated, for I am just a woman, trying to change the behaviour of other women, and men as well.
Psalm 37:5 Commit your way to the LORD;
trust in him and he will do this:
6 He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn,
the justice of your cause like the noonday sun.
My way, my words, my heart I commit to God. They are His way, His words, His heart. If this is true, then they will shine like the dawn, like broad daylight in the darkness.
Psalm 37:7 Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him;...
Do I trust God to act in His time? Do I trust Him to act in the perfect time? Do I trust Him to deal with those who despise Him? How about those who despise me, eh? What do they get? Do I trust God with that?
Psalm 37:7... do not fret when men succeed in their ways,
when they carry out their wicked schemes.
Why? Why not fret? Is it not evil that they do? Is it not righteousness that is squelched and wickedness that is exhalted. Is it not justice that is ignored and mercy despised? Is it not the helpless who are slaughtered while those with influence, money, voices are protected, and comforted?
Psalm 37:8 Refrain from anger and turn from wrath;
do not fret—it leads only to evil.
Why refrain from anger? God says to.
James 1:19 My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, 20 for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires. 21 Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent and humbly accept the word planted in you, which can save you.
Everything that God does is just. If He gave us this command, and nothing else, it would be enough. God is merciful, though and remembers that we are dust.
Psalm 37:10 A little while, and the wicked will be no more;
though you look for them, they will not be found.
Psalm 37:13 but the Lord laughs at the wicked,
for he knows their day is coming.
Psalm 73:1-2 Surely God is good to Israel,
to those who are pure in heart.
But as for me, my feet had almost slipped;
I had nearly lost my foothold.
Thursday was the second Thursday in a row when Planned Parenthood's parking lot was packed. There was snow everywhere, it had been a rough week, weatherwise. Did God bring the snow and the freezing rain? Yes, He did. Was this parking lot packed by God's design? Yes, it was. Finally, someone pulled up, and the guard and escort decided that they could get the driver to pull into a space that would fit that car like a glove. They had to let the girl out first, or she would be stuck in the car. Instead of going in, she waited for the car to be parked. (How much higher are your ways than mine, Oh Lord. The number of your thoughts are too much for me! You are amazing and your acts are mighty in my eyes!) They were there by God's design. They were there to hear that the child growing in her womb was a child, and that what they contemplated was murder. They were there to hear that there was another alternative. They were there to hear that Jesus died for their sins. He did! They were there to hear about sin and judgement and mercy. They were!
I told them these things. I told them these things, and then I think I kept talking. Maybe I started using my own words. Maybe I started to expect that they would be changed before my very eyes. I'm not sure. I just looked around, even while I realized that I was witnessing a miricle; the work of God's hands, and saw that parking lot just chock full of cars that had come for the purpose of killing, and I became angry.
I became angry with man's anger. I was very angry. God forgive me, and may He be pleased to use the botched efforts of His servant to glorify Himself, and may I not shame Him again!
A couple of other things that happened Thursday:
A car sat for some time, parked perpendicular to the sidewalk. The escort had given up hope of protecting this person from us, because she just stayed in her car. There were two in the car: a woman and a teen-age girl were eating doritos. I went and stood in front of the car, and offered a flyer with abortion/unborn child facts on one side, and sin/salvation facts on the other. The temperature was probably around 10 degrees, and this woman got out of her car, and took the paper from me. As I walked back to the alley, I saw the teen-age girl reading it.
A volks wagon bug pulled up, and not finding an empty space, parked in the realtor's parking lot. A young woman got out, and asked if something was going on here. I told her that there was. They were killing children at Planned Parenthood today. She hardened her face and picked up her pace and refused any further exchange.
The escort, who is there regularly, as it turned out was parked right by where we were standing. When he was done with his shift, we gave him plenty of room to get in his car and go, but we were there. Calmly and, I think, respectfully, I pronounced a blessing on him. Pray with me that God would recall to his mind the things his ears were unable to block out, and that God would remind him, even in the dead of night of the cries of the children that he refused to hear.
Psalm 37
Of David.
1 Do not fret because of evil men
or be envious of those who do wrong;
2 for like the grass they will soon wither,
like green plants they will soon die away.
3 Trust in the LORD and do good;
dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture.
4 Delight yourself in the LORD
and he will give you the desires of your heart.
5 Commit your way to the LORD;
trust in him and he will do this:
6 He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn,
the justice of your cause like the noonday sun.
7 Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him;
do not fret when men succeed in their ways,
when they carry out their wicked schemes.
8 Refrain from anger and turn from wrath;
do not fret—it leads only to evil.
9 For evil men will be cut off,
but those who hope in the LORD will inherit the land.
10 A little while, and the wicked will be no more;
though you look for them, they will not be found.
11 But the meek will inherit the land
and enjoy great peace.
12 The wicked plot against the righteous
and gnash their teeth at them;
13 but the Lord laughs at the wicked,
for he knows their day is coming.
14 The wicked draw the sword
and bend the bow
to bring down the poor and needy,
to slay those whose ways are upright.
15 But their swords will pierce their own hearts,
and their bows will be broken.
16 Better the little that the righteous have
than the wealth of many wicked;
17 for the power of the wicked will be broken,
but the LORD upholds the righteous.
18 The days of the blameless are known to the LORD,
and their inheritance will endure forever.
19 In times of disaster they will not wither;
in days of famine they will enjoy plenty.
20 But the wicked will perish:
The LORD's enemies will be like the beauty of the fields,
they will vanish—vanish like smoke.
21 The wicked borrow and do not repay,
but the righteous give generously;
22 those the LORD blesses will inherit the land,
but those he curses will be cut off.
23 If the LORD delights in a man's way,
he makes his steps firm;
24 though he stumble, he will not fall,
for the LORD upholds him with his hand.
25 I was young and now I am old,
yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken
or their children begging bread.
26 They are always generous and lend freely;
their children will be blessed.
27 Turn from evil and do good;
then you will dwell in the land forever.
28 For the LORD loves the just
and will not forsake his faithful ones.
They will be protected forever,
but the offspring of the wicked will be cut off;
29 the righteous will inherit the land
and dwell in it forever.
30 The mouth of the righteous man utters wisdom,
and his tongue speaks what is just.
31 The law of his God is in his heart;
his feet do not slip.
32 The wicked lie in wait for the righteous,
seeking their very lives;
33 but the LORD will not leave them in their power
or let them be condemned when brought to trial.
34 Wait for the LORD
and keep his way.
He will exalt you to inherit the land;
when the wicked are cut off, you will see it.
35 I have seen a wicked and ruthless man
flourishing like a green tree in its native soil,
36 but he soon passed away and was no more;
though I looked for him, he could not be found.
37 Consider the blameless, observe the upright;
there is a future for the man of peace.
38 But all sinners will be destroyed;
the future of the wicked will be cut off.
39 The salvation of the righteous comes from the LORD;
he is their stronghold in time of trouble.
40 The LORD helps them and delivers them;
he delivers them from the wicked and saves them,
because they take refuge in him.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Ice and Snow and some "stolen" pictures
I borrowed Lydia's camara to take some pictures this morning of the ice (since my boss decided that we shouldn't try to open the office until noon!).
Disregard the puppy picture which is our yellow Lab, Sunshine.
Let me try that again...
...Dog-gone it! Confound it all! I can't do this...Why Why?
Later.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Snow..Snow...Bea-U-tiful Snow!
Well...Ice.
Yes, Lydia had her long awaited snow day today (first one this year), and as a result, got to watch some amazing episodes of Sponge Bob Square Pants, cleaned out her closet and organized (!) and missed out on one more amazing game in the 15-0 season of the Edgewood Mustang Boys Basketball! What a day!
Holly had a "24 hour dispesement of classes" at Purdue (first one since 1990). She had already had her Japanese test this morning though, before classes were canceled for this afternoon, but she is happy to be out of the snow for a time.
I had my first snow day since high school (actually since teaching high school). My boss actually told us to stay home. I was quite surprized, and because of it, I got to learn more the joy of submission, and the power of God through a praying husband. I also got to exercise and help my husband clean out the linen closet. I also started to sew a dress. I hope it turns out, I could really use a success story right now.
All of the trees around our house are coated with ice. The Bradford Pear in our front yard is the only one in the neighborhood that hasn't been broken by weather. It is about due. (Although my husband has been good about pruning it, which I think has strenthened it.) I am concerned about our little Weeping Willow. It is just several years old, and is bent to the ground. It was just starting to look interesting last year. Ah, well, like myself, if it doesn't break, it will be stronger for the trouble (James?)
Glen had a snow da... Hey wait a minute, he's retired. I don't think this counts as a snow day for him. Although, he was going to get tires for the van today, and that errand was called off due to snow... It counts.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Filthy Rags
All of us have become like one who is unclean,
and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags;
we all shrivel up like a leaf,
and like the wind our sins sweep us away. --Isaiah 64:6
I have had many things pass through my mind recently that I would like to blog about. Then I log on, read what I have written, and think, "What foolishness! What trash! How harsh this is! How can I stand to write this? What do I hope to accomplish?"
Compare to the clear and humble logic of Jiho Kim (the last column in the last page of his own blog role set-up); or the clear and gentle logic of David Talcott (click on the post regarding the Emergent Church to get a feel for the gentleness with which he engages an opponant); or the gently, quiet wisdom of Anne Wegener, who with sacred gentleness exposes her weaknesses and shares her strengths. All of the links on my sidebar are to those places better spent reading than here.
A cloud without rain.
Unworthy of paper.
Just a speck in the heap of cyber trash!
But the Word of God is true, right, good. It is living and active.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. --Philippians 4:8
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Whoze Da Fool?
I have read about them. I have seen them on TV. I have talked to people who have seen them. I have never, never seen one before...before today!
Today, I listened to a sidewalk preacher. He was actually in the parking lot of Planned Parenthood. Steve was preaching when Glen and I arrived. He spoke clearly, plainly and with conviction. The fear of God was upon him.
I do not know when he started. He told me he would be preaching from 9 to 10, but when we arrived at about 10:08, he continued for some time.
It used to be that I was scoffed at there, and it was appropriate. They used to smirk at me, but I haven't felt their disdain in a while. I have become a rather quiet one of late.
Today, they made jokes...loud jokes. Today, they scoffed. They did not, though, leave. They stayed and the Word of God was preached in their presense. They heard of God's creation, and the beauty of it. They heard of the gift of life, children and the privilege that women have to bear and raise children. They heard of the pressures men, fathers, mates, and society place on women to disdain and destroy this privilage. I am certain that this was the first time that some of them heard these archaic words.
They heard of the Holy God's displeasure with the murdering of these children. They heard of His great power, and frightful judgement.
They also heard of His long-suffering and mercy. They heard the invitation to seek refuge from the coming wrath in the Son of God, who died for even these sins.
Today, I listened to a sidewalk preacher. He was actually in the parking lot of Planned Parenthood. Steve was preaching when Glen and I arrived. He spoke clearly, plainly and with conviction. The fear of God was upon him.
I do not know when he started. He told me he would be preaching from 9 to 10, but when we arrived at about 10:08, he continued for some time.
It used to be that I was scoffed at there, and it was appropriate. They used to smirk at me, but I haven't felt their disdain in a while. I have become a rather quiet one of late.
Today, they made jokes...loud jokes. Today, they scoffed. They did not, though, leave. They stayed and the Word of God was preached in their presense. They heard of God's creation, and the beauty of it. They heard of the gift of life, children and the privilege that women have to bear and raise children. They heard of the pressures men, fathers, mates, and society place on women to disdain and destroy this privilage. I am certain that this was the first time that some of them heard these archaic words.
They heard of the Holy God's displeasure with the murdering of these children. They heard of His great power, and frightful judgement.
They also heard of His long-suffering and mercy. They heard the invitation to seek refuge from the coming wrath in the Son of God, who died for even these sins.
Oh, God, our Heavenly Father,
I repent of my reluctance to speak and proclaim Your truth with all boldness. I confess that I have been afraid of man; in fact the good opinion of my fellow Christians I seek, above the proclamation of your truth and obedience to your commands.
If I plan to NOT speak thus, let my bones waste away within me. May your hand be heavy upon me, and your words burn in my mouth until I speak them.
Do not let me rely on the wisdom of man, or on my own ideas of a compelling arguement. But let me stand on your Word alone; and make my feet, then, firm wheresoever you lead me.
In the name of your Son, my Lord, Jesus Christ,
AMEN
Monday, January 29, 2007
The Ugly Road from There to Here
I met someone online... A young woman, Chantal who used to go to the Church of the Good Shepherd before I got there. One Sunday, she was in church and I got to meet her in person. MaryLee, our pastor's wife recommended that I read Chantal's testimony on her blog, so I did. I loved it!
I love hearing about how God took dead people and breathed life into them. Chantal's story (by clicking on the link above) will not dissappoint you. I am especially intrigued when people sow the seed bountifully while setting themselves on fire, like the sidewalk preacher in Chantal's story.
About that same time, my sister, Deb emailed me. Deb, for me was like a goddess when I was growing up. Everything she did, I thought was the thing to do. She was the perfection of the American Teenager. I loved her hair, her glasses, the way she sucked her thumb and put ketchup on everything... She was the cat's meow! I am still sentimental about her, and wish that we were closer than just an occasional email.
She wanted to know how things were going in my life. I emailed back some little things, and told her about my blog. She told me that she thought I was brave, because of the journey of self-discovery I was making.
I thought maybe Deb didn't know even a little of who I was and where I have been, so, inspired by Chantal's bravery, I decided to post my story. (Glen asked me to leave his chapter out, which drastically decreases the narative.)
It is not for the lightly curious, and it will definitely knock me off any pedistal I may be tottering on. I was not brave enough to be completely thorough, it was too painful, and much of my story is not for the fainthearted or the gentile reader. (here's how brave I am: I wrote it on Thanksgiving day and posted it on January 28 so that it would be buried) You are welcome tor ead it, and if there is an area where I may give details that would help on your walk, or where you, as my friend or sister may know me deeper still, I would be happy to privately continue.
It is a story of dry bones brought to life.
I love hearing about how God took dead people and breathed life into them. Chantal's story (by clicking on the link above) will not dissappoint you. I am especially intrigued when people sow the seed bountifully while setting themselves on fire, like the sidewalk preacher in Chantal's story.
About that same time, my sister, Deb emailed me. Deb, for me was like a goddess when I was growing up. Everything she did, I thought was the thing to do. She was the perfection of the American Teenager. I loved her hair, her glasses, the way she sucked her thumb and put ketchup on everything... She was the cat's meow! I am still sentimental about her, and wish that we were closer than just an occasional email.
She wanted to know how things were going in my life. I emailed back some little things, and told her about my blog. She told me that she thought I was brave, because of the journey of self-discovery I was making.
I thought maybe Deb didn't know even a little of who I was and where I have been, so, inspired by Chantal's bravery, I decided to post my story. (Glen asked me to leave his chapter out, which drastically decreases the narative.)
It is not for the lightly curious, and it will definitely knock me off any pedistal I may be tottering on. I was not brave enough to be completely thorough, it was too painful, and much of my story is not for the fainthearted or the gentile reader. (here's how brave I am: I wrote it on Thanksgiving day and posted it on January 28 so that it would be buried) You are welcome tor ead it, and if there is an area where I may give details that would help on your walk, or where you, as my friend or sister may know me deeper still, I would be happy to privately continue.
It is a story of dry bones brought to life.
1 The hand of the LORD was upon me, and he brought me out by the Spirit of the LORD and set me in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. 2 He led me back and forth among them, and I saw a great many bones on the floor of the valley, bones that were very dry. 3 He asked me, "Son of man, can these bones live?"
I said, "O Sovereign LORD, you alone know."
4 Then he said to me, "Prophesy to these bones and say to them, 'Dry bones, hear the word of the LORD! 5 This is what the Sovereign LORD says to these bones: I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life. 6 I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin; I will put breath in you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the LORD.' "
7 So I prophesied as I was commanded. And as I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone. 8 I looked, and tendons and flesh appeared on them and skin covered them, but there was no breath in them.
9 Then he said to me, "Prophesy to the breath; prophesy, son of man, and say to it, 'This is what the Sovereign LORD says: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe into these slain, that they may live.' " 10 So I prophesied as he commanded me, and breath entered them; they came to life and stood up on their feet—a vast army.
Ezekiel 37
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Fasting
Any thoughts on fasting?
What are the Scriptural mandates?
Under what circumstances would you fast?
What are the Scriptural mandates?
Under what circumstances would you fast?
Friday, January 19, 2007
A Fist Full of Dollars
This week I took some items back to WalMart. One was a gift that was the wrong size and accentuated my frumpiness. The other was some yarn that was just the wrong color of green.
When we decided to return these items, I couldn't find the receipt. Then, when I found the receipt, we headed to WalMart, maneuvered their horrendously designed parking lot, found a rare parking space, and started hiking toward the entrance. I looked at Glen's empty hands, and then at my own. We had left the bag on the couch as we walked out the door!
The receipt must have gotten filed, or at least looked at and suddenly it was missing again. I thought about taking them back without the receipt, but I knew that by now, the blouse had gone on sale, and I wouldn't get the full amount from it; so I decided to search again for the elusive piece of parchment.
Then, on Sunday night, I told Glen that I would be taking it back on my break on Monday. I had seen the receipt in his wallet, so I had every confidence that my plans would not go awry this time. He told me that he probably emptied his wallet since I saw the receipt.
My heart fell, but I decided to make one more search in the morning, and then make the return with or without documentation.
In the morning, I found the receipt; not in Glen's wallet, but in the basket on the counter in the kitchen. (whew) As I was placing it in the bag with the returns, I noticed the notice on the receipt that said, "Items may be returned with a receipt within 15 days of purchase." My mind quickly calculated the time. The blouse was a Christmas gift, which meant that it was purchased before that merry event, which ... was... more that fifteen days ago! Well, all I can do is try.
I got the the Customer Service desk with my returns and my receipt in the bag. I gave them to the nice young lady behind the counter, and she processed my refund!
She place a crisp and colorful twenty dollar bill in my hand, then poured some change on top of it.
I was surprised at the emotional reaction that sparked. It has been a while since I have had a twenty dollar bill in my hand, and my senses of sight and touch were peaked by its presense. I put the change in my purse pocket, and with the twenty dollar bill fluttering in the breeze of my passing, I headed for the craft department. I kept it in my hand as I relished my search for fabric, and, not finding any that I hoped for, my enjoyment of yarns and such. When I decided that WalMart had nothing to separate us, we walked together out the door and drove away, my new, still fluttering friend and I.
Wednesday evening, Glen asked me for it so that he could buy some gas.
When we decided to return these items, I couldn't find the receipt. Then, when I found the receipt, we headed to WalMart, maneuvered their horrendously designed parking lot, found a rare parking space, and started hiking toward the entrance. I looked at Glen's empty hands, and then at my own. We had left the bag on the couch as we walked out the door!
The receipt must have gotten filed, or at least looked at and suddenly it was missing again. I thought about taking them back without the receipt, but I knew that by now, the blouse had gone on sale, and I wouldn't get the full amount from it; so I decided to search again for the elusive piece of parchment.
Then, on Sunday night, I told Glen that I would be taking it back on my break on Monday. I had seen the receipt in his wallet, so I had every confidence that my plans would not go awry this time. He told me that he probably emptied his wallet since I saw the receipt.
My heart fell, but I decided to make one more search in the morning, and then make the return with or without documentation.
In the morning, I found the receipt; not in Glen's wallet, but in the basket on the counter in the kitchen. (whew) As I was placing it in the bag with the returns, I noticed the notice on the receipt that said, "Items may be returned with a receipt within 15 days of purchase." My mind quickly calculated the time. The blouse was a Christmas gift, which meant that it was purchased before that merry event, which ... was... more that fifteen days ago! Well, all I can do is try.
I got the the Customer Service desk with my returns and my receipt in the bag. I gave them to the nice young lady behind the counter, and she processed my refund!
She place a crisp and colorful twenty dollar bill in my hand, then poured some change on top of it.
I was surprised at the emotional reaction that sparked. It has been a while since I have had a twenty dollar bill in my hand, and my senses of sight and touch were peaked by its presense. I put the change in my purse pocket, and with the twenty dollar bill fluttering in the breeze of my passing, I headed for the craft department. I kept it in my hand as I relished my search for fabric, and, not finding any that I hoped for, my enjoyment of yarns and such. When I decided that WalMart had nothing to separate us, we walked together out the door and drove away, my new, still fluttering friend and I.
Wednesday evening, Glen asked me for it so that he could buy some gas.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Stick out like a Sore Thumb
AKA: Set yourself on fire.
A friend told a story about a guy who used to be at CGS who used to laugh about how effective Pastor Bayly would be with his short hair and bow tie at Peoples Park.
Tim of course would be ineffective, and so would this guy with his pony tail and ear rings. I would be ineffective at RECP or Planned Parenthood. The lady in her hair-dresser's chair would be ineffective, getting her hair dyed. It is not us, but God!
The work does not get done in the air between our vocal chords and their eardrums. It gets done in the heart.
If God has called you to People's Park, having taken you through the paths He has, and brought you to this moment, maybe it is because in your weakness, and "foolishness" His strength is made perfect.
We don't all have to go get a tattoo or dye our hair to be culturally relevant, but sometimes God has saved a person who has been down a thorney path and picked up a tattoo, or a divorce, or an illegitimate child, or any number of experiences that He has used to humble us.
It might be that if you looked just like everybody else at People's Park, all the people would ignore you!
A friend told a story about a guy who used to be at CGS who used to laugh about how effective Pastor Bayly would be with his short hair and bow tie at Peoples Park.
Tim of course would be ineffective, and so would this guy with his pony tail and ear rings. I would be ineffective at RECP or Planned Parenthood. The lady in her hair-dresser's chair would be ineffective, getting her hair dyed. It is not us, but God!
The work does not get done in the air between our vocal chords and their eardrums. It gets done in the heart.
If God has called you to People's Park, having taken you through the paths He has, and brought you to this moment, maybe it is because in your weakness, and "foolishness" His strength is made perfect.
We don't all have to go get a tattoo or dye our hair to be culturally relevant, but sometimes God has saved a person who has been down a thorney path and picked up a tattoo, or a divorce, or an illegitimate child, or any number of experiences that He has used to humble us.
It might be that if you looked just like everybody else at People's Park, all the people would ignore you!
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Oh Lord You have seen this; be not silent. Do not be far from me, Oh Lord.
Early this morning, at about 4am, Glen woke up suddenly. Planned Parenthood was on his mind. He prayed that SOMETHING would happen today at Planned Parenthood that would glorify God.
Here's what happened:
Psalm 40
1 I waited patiently for the LORD;
he turned to me and heard my cry.
2 He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock
and gave me a firm place to stand.
3 He put a new song in my mouth,
a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear
and put their trust in the LORD.
4 Blessed is the man
who makes the LORD his trust,
who does not look to the proud,
to those who turn aside to false gods.
5 Many, O LORD my God,
are the wonders you have done.
The things you planned for us
no one can recount to you;
were I to speak and tell of them,
they would be too many to declare.
6 Sacrifice and offering you did not desire,
but my ears you have pierced;
burnt offerings and sin offerings
you did not require.
7 Then I said, "Here I am, I have come—
it is written about me in the scroll.
8 I desire to do your will, O my God;
your law is within my heart."
9 I proclaim righteousness in the great assembly;
I do not seal my lips,
as you know, O LORD.
10 I do not hide your righteousness in my heart;
I speak of your faithfulness and salvation.
I do not conceal your love and your truth
from the great assembly.
11 Do not withhold your mercy from me, O LORD;
may your love and your truth always protect me.
12 For troubles without number surround me;
my sins have overtaken me, and I cannot see.
They are more than the hairs of my head,
and my heart fails within me.
13 Be pleased, O LORD, to save me;
O LORD, come quickly to help me.
14 May all who seek to take my life
be put to shame and confusion;
may all who desire my ruin
be turned back in disgrace.
15 May those who say to me, "Aha! Aha!"
be appalled at their own shame.
16 But may all who seek you
rejoice and be glad in you;
may those who love your salvation always say,
"The LORD be exalted!"
17 Yet I am poor and needy;
may the Lord think of me.
You are my help and my deliverer;
O my God, do not delay.
Oh, Yeah!
Here's what happened:
Christians came to proclaim God's truth to those who do not seek Him.
A woman, looking for a REALTOR because she is moving to Bloomington, found a parking space, a helping hand, a real estate agent, and ... us! She asked if we were protesting. She encouraged us with her story of an abortion decades ago, and her struggle with despair. After meeting with the realtor, she reported that she found a place, and would be back next week to stand with us... She may even have found a church! (Please, thank God for, and pray for Linda)
A couple drove up in a vehicle that had "Jesus" prominently displayed on a plate on the front. The escorts and the guard approached the car and waited for the couple to emerge, as if to reassure them that they would be protected from the Christians. They waited a long time. Finally, the couple backed out of the parking space and left.
At least one of us was there long enough to see, for the first time, a young woman emerge from planned parenthood following the death of her child.
God was glorified!
Psalm 40
1 I waited patiently for the LORD;
he turned to me and heard my cry.
2 He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock
and gave me a firm place to stand.
3 He put a new song in my mouth,
a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear
and put their trust in the LORD.
4 Blessed is the man
who makes the LORD his trust,
who does not look to the proud,
to those who turn aside to false gods.
5 Many, O LORD my God,
are the wonders you have done.
The things you planned for us
no one can recount to you;
were I to speak and tell of them,
they would be too many to declare.
6 Sacrifice and offering you did not desire,
but my ears you have pierced;
burnt offerings and sin offerings
you did not require.
7 Then I said, "Here I am, I have come—
it is written about me in the scroll.
8 I desire to do your will, O my God;
your law is within my heart."
9 I proclaim righteousness in the great assembly;
I do not seal my lips,
as you know, O LORD.
10 I do not hide your righteousness in my heart;
I speak of your faithfulness and salvation.
I do not conceal your love and your truth
from the great assembly.
11 Do not withhold your mercy from me, O LORD;
may your love and your truth always protect me.
12 For troubles without number surround me;
my sins have overtaken me, and I cannot see.
They are more than the hairs of my head,
and my heart fails within me.
13 Be pleased, O LORD, to save me;
O LORD, come quickly to help me.
14 May all who seek to take my life
be put to shame and confusion;
may all who desire my ruin
be turned back in disgrace.
15 May those who say to me, "Aha! Aha!"
be appalled at their own shame.
16 But may all who seek you
rejoice and be glad in you;
may those who love your salvation always say,
"The LORD be exalted!"
17 Yet I am poor and needy;
may the Lord think of me.
You are my help and my deliverer;
O my God, do not delay.
Oh, Yeah!
Near Perfection
Two of the most perfect recording artists of all time:
No, three:
Oh, Yah!
- Leon Redbone
- The Temptations
No, three:
- Nat King Cole (the cream on top)
Oh, Yah!
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
The Sower Revisited
I hate to be redundant, but, as they say, repetition is a good teacher. While reading the following story (originally posted in November of 2005), consider where you are scattering the seed of the gospel, ...or is it still in the bag?
There was a land-owner who owned the land as far as the eye can see, no matter where you went. He gave his servant a large, abundantly full sack of seed, and told him to go out and sow it. The servant took the large, abundantly full sack of seed and went out-into the back yard. Although the master owned the land as far as the eye can see, the servant had come to think of the back yard as his own.
He set the large, abundantly full sack of seed down and dug up a plot of ground. He made it square, about 10 by 10; just right.
He dug up the soil and removed the sod. He tilled and added mulch and manure until the organic content was just right. He worked the soil until it was a pleasure to turn. Then he smoothed it all out; just right.
Finally, he made rows, straight and even. Each row was 12 inches from the last one, so he would have room to go between and pull weeds as the plants grew. He stepped back and surveyed his work with satisfaction.
At last he turned around and opened the large, abundantly full sack of seed. He reached in with his left hand and pulled out a handfull of seed and went to the first row. He planted 2-3 seeds per inch all along the row, covering the seed with the rich soil and tamping it down as he went. When he finished with the first row, he went on to the next and planted in the same way. He worked diligently in this manner, row after row, returning to the large, abundantly full sack of seed when his hand became empty.
When all the rows were properly sown, he closed the large, still abundantly full sack of seed, and stepped back.
He surveyed his work with great satisfaction.
He noticed that the sky was clear so he watered the plot.
As the days and weeks went by he watered the plot, aerated the soil, weeded the rows, and surveyed his work with great satisfaction. He put up a scarecrow to keep the birds away from the seed. He built a fence around to keep rabbits from eating the young plants. He even cut down a nearby tree because he noticed that it shaded his plot from the sun in the early afternoon.
As the weeks went by some of the seed rotted because of mildew or fungus in the soil. Some were left exposed by the rain or watering hose and were eaten by birds who were not fooled by the scarecrow. Some grew, but maybe their roots found the rocks that the servant had missed, or they were crowded by a weed that sprang up as quickly as they did; and they remained small and weak, and were scorched by the sun in the early afternoons. Some of the seed grew, strong and straight. These plants produced much fruit --40, 60, 100 times the little that was sown.
"This is what was written: The Christ will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, and repentance and forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem." (Luke 24:46&47)
"But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." (Acts 1:8)
The Apostles respond in obedience, even when persecuted:
"The apostles left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing that they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name. Day after day, in the temple courts and from house to house, they never stopped teaching and proclaiming the good news that Jesus is the Christ." (Acts 5:41-42)
There was a land-owner who owned the land as far as the eye can see, no matter where you went. He gave his servant a large, abundantly full sack of seed, and told him to go out and sow it. The servant took the large, abundantly full sack of seed and went out-into the back yard. Although the master owned the land as far as the eye can see, the servant had come to think of the back yard as his own.
He set the large, abundantly full sack of seed down and dug up a plot of ground. He made it square, about 10 by 10; just right.
He dug up the soil and removed the sod. He tilled and added mulch and manure until the organic content was just right. He worked the soil until it was a pleasure to turn. Then he smoothed it all out; just right.
Finally, he made rows, straight and even. Each row was 12 inches from the last one, so he would have room to go between and pull weeds as the plants grew. He stepped back and surveyed his work with satisfaction.
At last he turned around and opened the large, abundantly full sack of seed. He reached in with his left hand and pulled out a handfull of seed and went to the first row. He planted 2-3 seeds per inch all along the row, covering the seed with the rich soil and tamping it down as he went. When he finished with the first row, he went on to the next and planted in the same way. He worked diligently in this manner, row after row, returning to the large, abundantly full sack of seed when his hand became empty.
When all the rows were properly sown, he closed the large, still abundantly full sack of seed, and stepped back.
He surveyed his work with great satisfaction.
He noticed that the sky was clear so he watered the plot.
As the days and weeks went by he watered the plot, aerated the soil, weeded the rows, and surveyed his work with great satisfaction. He put up a scarecrow to keep the birds away from the seed. He built a fence around to keep rabbits from eating the young plants. He even cut down a nearby tree because he noticed that it shaded his plot from the sun in the early afternoon.
As the weeks went by some of the seed rotted because of mildew or fungus in the soil. Some were left exposed by the rain or watering hose and were eaten by birds who were not fooled by the scarecrow. Some grew, but maybe their roots found the rocks that the servant had missed, or they were crowded by a weed that sprang up as quickly as they did; and they remained small and weak, and were scorched by the sun in the early afternoons. Some of the seed grew, strong and straight. These plants produced much fruit --40, 60, 100 times the little that was sown.
"This is what was written: The Christ will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, and repentance and forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem." (Luke 24:46&47)
"But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." (Acts 1:8)
The Apostles respond in obedience, even when persecuted:
"The apostles left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing that they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name. Day after day, in the temple courts and from house to house, they never stopped teaching and proclaiming the good news that Jesus is the Christ." (Acts 5:41-42)
Sunday, December 31, 2006
This year, talk deeply about big things.
Sometime we should sit down and have a big talk. We should look long into each other's eyes and talk deeply about big things. I think sometimes that we talk in greys and light greys and dark greys.
When we talk deeply about big things, we will talk in hyacinth blues and impatien pinks and spring-moss greens; oh, and russets and maizes and lavenders, ...and that really cool dark grey that is almost a blue like a rock in a stream, too.
When one of us says something that the other one doesn't understand, she will say, "I don't quite understand, will you tell me deeper, still?" Then the first will take her heart and put it in the other's hands and then she will understand. Then we can cry and laugh together because we know that we love each other so completely that we just lay ourselves down for each other.
Maybe someday...this year.
When we talk deeply about big things, we will talk in hyacinth blues and impatien pinks and spring-moss greens; oh, and russets and maizes and lavenders, ...and that really cool dark grey that is almost a blue like a rock in a stream, too.
When one of us says something that the other one doesn't understand, she will say, "I don't quite understand, will you tell me deeper, still?" Then the first will take her heart and put it in the other's hands and then she will understand. Then we can cry and laugh together because we know that we love each other so completely that we just lay ourselves down for each other.
Maybe someday...this year.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Hello, It's Me
Today is Thanksgiving. The turkey has been cooked, and much of it has been eaten. The Lord has blessed Glen and me with a good day of peace and grace with one another and our kids. By this, I don't mean that there have been no conflicts, but these conflicts, I think, have been for our benefit and perfection, and to God's glory.
I take up now the task of clearly and thoroughly conveying how I got from there to here. What better day to do it, or at least to begin it, than on Thanksgiving? What better to be thankful for than for life everlasting and freedom from the burden of sin and despair?
I was born the ninth of ten children (no..eleven, my littlest sister, Dinah Ruth was born when I was 13, and lived only 13 hours: a dear little redheaded girl). From my earliest memories, I was in church. First (that I remember) was a Church of Christ. As I approached ten, the "age of accountability," I anticipated my baptism with enthusiasm. I was very disappointed that my family left that church just before this would have taken place.
While we attended that church, which was about 30 - 40 miles from our home, we spent Sunday afternoons in the homes of other members of the church, and returned to church for evening service. It was a pleasant time to be a child, and I had other "grammies" who loved me and my family. That church, of course was full of sinners and fallen men. In my youth, I wasn't privy to reasons; when we left, we left.
We went to another Church of Christ for a while, and then we had church at home for a period of time. We had communion and everything.
After that, we went to the Methodist church of my mother's family. Here, from about age 12 or 13 I stayed until I graduated from high school. I was active in the youth group, sang in the choir (because I loved certain women who were in the choir), attended Sunday School and church and on Thursday evenings, went to Campus Life (an inter-denominational Youth for Christ group). My best friend in High School went, without her family, to the Baptist church in town. I wanted to get baptized, and I went to her church for that.
Was I converted at that point? I don't know. I know that I was aware of my utter inability to improve myself. I know that I was burdened with the acute awareness of my own shortcomings. I know that I desired to follow and love Jesus with my whole self and my whole life. But... was that the mighty hand of God, or just adolescent self hatred? I really don't know, but I believe that the hand of God was on me, at least from that point on.
I graduated and began college at the University of Michigan, Flint. This is a satellite campus of U of M; a commuter campus. I went one year and dropped. I got a job at a gift shop in a famous tourist town, working Sundays, of course. I continued to try to go to Sunday School and at least part of church in the Methodist church in this town. I soon dropped this attempt because it was difficult, and seemed futile and irrelevant.
Soon after that I moved out of my parents' home and into a trailer with a friend from high school and her sister. From this moment on, I had little or no thought of God. The girls I lived with were faithful Christians.
I quit the gift shop job and got a job closer to my new home. I now sold candy bars, cigarettes, and booze in a convenience store. I was not prepared by my family, church, youth group, or personal devotion to the true and living God for the lifestyle I now found myself exposed to.
I slept little, ate poorly, popped no-doz, and flirted with the guys who came in to buy their beer, cigarettes, and booze. That was what they thought I was there for, and it was easier than being myself. I even accepted a date. A guy named Roger took me to see a movie called "My Bodyguard." Then I took him to meet my family. We then went to his place, and when I refused to have sex with him, he took me home, completely rejected me, and I never, ever heard from him again.
My hope at the time was definitely built on much less than Jesus' blood and righteousness. I could have learned about looking for integrity in potential mates, or recognizing character and speaking my mind with confidence, or not being found alone with a date... But instead I learned what it is that men want, and, why was it that I wasn't in the game, anyways? It is just too hard to play by different rules, unless you are aware that you are actually playing a different game.
So I switched games.
This is much too ugly for me to wrench out of my keyboard. I cannot find sufficient reason to go into details about this, but, since God has allowed it, I am willing to expose my past if it will help anyone.
Suffice it to say, for now, that I strayed further and further from God. I even denied him. At the same time, I sometimes marveled at the pleasures that He created, at His sense of humor (ie: red hair--try getting an evolutionist to explain that one!).
I did not have a rock to stand on. I dishonored my parents. I denied the existance of the God who created me, sustained my very breath, and died for the sins in which I wallowed. I completely humiliated myself for the fickle approval of men. I convinced myself that by doing so, I freed myself from guilt, shame, inhibitions, convention, and ties that bind.
As I look back, I see God's hand in the details. Because of my rebellion and reliance on myself, and not His strength, it was a long, ugly road, but He worked all things perfectly together.
After an ill-advised marriage and divorce, I found myself married again. This time, God graciously opened my womb and gave me a daughter. Then He gave me another. Then, by means not to be exposed here, He put an end to the blessing of children. But these children were a blessing beyond expression, and the blessing of them has not seen its end.
One day, while visiting my parents with my daughters, I was talking to my younger sister. I was surprized to find out that she went to church every Sunday. When I asked why, she said that she wanted her kids to grow up in church.
Yes, growing up in church is a good thing. I would take my kids to church. So after a sufficient period of procrastination, I began the difficult task of choosing a church. I went to the first one (a Methodist church) on Palm Sunday. My daughter wore her only dress, a beautiful white dress handed down from her cousin. One of the ladies cooed over it, and commented that she couldn't imagine what my daughter would wear on Easter Sunday. My heart froze. She never found out!
Next I went to an Evangelical Presbyterian Church that my husband's nephew had gotten married in. I sat down and checked out the pew Bible. NIV...hmm... Don't really recognize Zephaniah, but other than that, nothing suspicious. They had all the stuff that I wanted for my kids, and coffee hour between Sunday School and church. There was a lady who found my kids every Sunday and gave them a piece of sugarless gum. She also came along beside me and helped me learn stuff. She held Bible studies, and she just knew a bunch!
One Sunday, while the preacher was preparing for communion, the words he spoke about the purpose of the table and the warnings about eating the bread and drinking the wine unworthily, were used by the Holy Spirit to convict me. I was unworthy. I was the reason that blood was spilt. I had despised the perfect sacrifice of God, and He loved me. I was undone.
When I got home that day, Glen asked me what happened. He somehow could tell that something was different. He realized more than I did at the time the distance between light and dark. He was afraid that our life together was over. In fact it was. The woman he married was gone, and a new creature had taken her place. From that moment on, God's hand was upon Glen's life, and nine years later, God called him as well.
I take up now the task of clearly and thoroughly conveying how I got from there to here. What better day to do it, or at least to begin it, than on Thanksgiving? What better to be thankful for than for life everlasting and freedom from the burden of sin and despair?
I was born the ninth of ten children (no..eleven, my littlest sister, Dinah Ruth was born when I was 13, and lived only 13 hours: a dear little redheaded girl). From my earliest memories, I was in church. First (that I remember) was a Church of Christ. As I approached ten, the "age of accountability," I anticipated my baptism with enthusiasm. I was very disappointed that my family left that church just before this would have taken place.
While we attended that church, which was about 30 - 40 miles from our home, we spent Sunday afternoons in the homes of other members of the church, and returned to church for evening service. It was a pleasant time to be a child, and I had other "grammies" who loved me and my family. That church, of course was full of sinners and fallen men. In my youth, I wasn't privy to reasons; when we left, we left.
We went to another Church of Christ for a while, and then we had church at home for a period of time. We had communion and everything.
After that, we went to the Methodist church of my mother's family. Here, from about age 12 or 13 I stayed until I graduated from high school. I was active in the youth group, sang in the choir (because I loved certain women who were in the choir), attended Sunday School and church and on Thursday evenings, went to Campus Life (an inter-denominational Youth for Christ group). My best friend in High School went, without her family, to the Baptist church in town. I wanted to get baptized, and I went to her church for that.
Was I converted at that point? I don't know. I know that I was aware of my utter inability to improve myself. I know that I was burdened with the acute awareness of my own shortcomings. I know that I desired to follow and love Jesus with my whole self and my whole life. But... was that the mighty hand of God, or just adolescent self hatred? I really don't know, but I believe that the hand of God was on me, at least from that point on.
I graduated and began college at the University of Michigan, Flint. This is a satellite campus of U of M; a commuter campus. I went one year and dropped. I got a job at a gift shop in a famous tourist town, working Sundays, of course. I continued to try to go to Sunday School and at least part of church in the Methodist church in this town. I soon dropped this attempt because it was difficult, and seemed futile and irrelevant.
Soon after that I moved out of my parents' home and into a trailer with a friend from high school and her sister. From this moment on, I had little or no thought of God. The girls I lived with were faithful Christians.
I quit the gift shop job and got a job closer to my new home. I now sold candy bars, cigarettes, and booze in a convenience store. I was not prepared by my family, church, youth group, or personal devotion to the true and living God for the lifestyle I now found myself exposed to.
I slept little, ate poorly, popped no-doz, and flirted with the guys who came in to buy their beer, cigarettes, and booze. That was what they thought I was there for, and it was easier than being myself. I even accepted a date. A guy named Roger took me to see a movie called "My Bodyguard." Then I took him to meet my family. We then went to his place, and when I refused to have sex with him, he took me home, completely rejected me, and I never, ever heard from him again.
My hope at the time was definitely built on much less than Jesus' blood and righteousness. I could have learned about looking for integrity in potential mates, or recognizing character and speaking my mind with confidence, or not being found alone with a date... But instead I learned what it is that men want, and, why was it that I wasn't in the game, anyways? It is just too hard to play by different rules, unless you are aware that you are actually playing a different game.
So I switched games.
This is much too ugly for me to wrench out of my keyboard. I cannot find sufficient reason to go into details about this, but, since God has allowed it, I am willing to expose my past if it will help anyone.
Suffice it to say, for now, that I strayed further and further from God. I even denied him. At the same time, I sometimes marveled at the pleasures that He created, at His sense of humor (ie: red hair--try getting an evolutionist to explain that one!).
I did not have a rock to stand on. I dishonored my parents. I denied the existance of the God who created me, sustained my very breath, and died for the sins in which I wallowed. I completely humiliated myself for the fickle approval of men. I convinced myself that by doing so, I freed myself from guilt, shame, inhibitions, convention, and ties that bind.
As I look back, I see God's hand in the details. Because of my rebellion and reliance on myself, and not His strength, it was a long, ugly road, but He worked all things perfectly together.
After an ill-advised marriage and divorce, I found myself married again. This time, God graciously opened my womb and gave me a daughter. Then He gave me another. Then, by means not to be exposed here, He put an end to the blessing of children. But these children were a blessing beyond expression, and the blessing of them has not seen its end.
One day, while visiting my parents with my daughters, I was talking to my younger sister. I was surprized to find out that she went to church every Sunday. When I asked why, she said that she wanted her kids to grow up in church.
Yes, growing up in church is a good thing. I would take my kids to church. So after a sufficient period of procrastination, I began the difficult task of choosing a church. I went to the first one (a Methodist church) on Palm Sunday. My daughter wore her only dress, a beautiful white dress handed down from her cousin. One of the ladies cooed over it, and commented that she couldn't imagine what my daughter would wear on Easter Sunday. My heart froze. She never found out!
Next I went to an Evangelical Presbyterian Church that my husband's nephew had gotten married in. I sat down and checked out the pew Bible. NIV...hmm... Don't really recognize Zephaniah, but other than that, nothing suspicious. They had all the stuff that I wanted for my kids, and coffee hour between Sunday School and church. There was a lady who found my kids every Sunday and gave them a piece of sugarless gum. She also came along beside me and helped me learn stuff. She held Bible studies, and she just knew a bunch!
One Sunday, while the preacher was preparing for communion, the words he spoke about the purpose of the table and the warnings about eating the bread and drinking the wine unworthily, were used by the Holy Spirit to convict me. I was unworthy. I was the reason that blood was spilt. I had despised the perfect sacrifice of God, and He loved me. I was undone.
When I got home that day, Glen asked me what happened. He somehow could tell that something was different. He realized more than I did at the time the distance between light and dark. He was afraid that our life together was over. In fact it was. The woman he married was gone, and a new creature had taken her place. From that moment on, God's hand was upon Glen's life, and nine years later, God called him as well.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Basking in the Goodness of God
God just amazes me, His goodness, His wisdom.
He is able to do more than we can ask or imagine.
He is able to do more than we can ask or imagine.
Saturday, November 18, 2006
The Princess and The Yogre
AKA: A Really Happy Ending
Once upon a time, there was a princess. She was full of beauty and wisdom. She was friendly and everyone in the kingdom loved her. She was generous and hospitable, and her home was always bussling with guests. She was wise, and many sought her wisdom and confidence.
Then one day, a yogre moved into the kingdom. Like many yogres, when this yogre smiled, it often looked like she sneered, grimmaced, or growled. Because she was a yogre, like her mother and grandmother before her, her countanace was stern. When she laughed, a great "Gur-hoof, gur-hoof, snorrt" could be heard from a great distance, and many in the kingdom slipped silently away upon hearing it.
A yogre knows that she is a yogre, and will generally speak and laugh only with those who do not flee, and let the others go, not wishing to distress them further.
When she spoke, she usually got her words all mixed up, and sometimes made no sense at all. She came from a kingdom much different from this one, and often her speech and manners were misunderstood. She loved this kingdom, though, and so she continued on in it. In it was the air she breathed.
She loved the princess too. From time to time, she would muster up her courage and seek the pricess's wisdom regarding customs of the kingdom. When she did this, she tried really hard to choose her words carefully and not to laugh much so as not to frighten the princess away.
The princess was kind, as well as wise and beautiful, and always stayed long enough to answer the yogre's question. The yogre thought the princess was also brave, for she thought she saw a look of trepidation in the princess's eye whenever they spoke.
Then one day, the yogre, afraid of frightening one of the peasants away, chose herwords frantically rather than carefully, saying in haste, "I love you, don't flee!"
"GARR-UF!" the peasant heard the yogre say, and fled to the princess to confide in her how the yogre had frightened her.
The princess said nothing of this to the yogre.
Then one day, the yogre was walking on a kingdom path, enjoying the life her King had granted her, when she saw one of her peasant friends walking across a bridge. The yogre had seen many of the kingdom peasants walking on this very bridge, although not all of them took that path. The yogre smiled and waved a greeting at her peasant friend, who saw her sneer and heard her say, "Wheeeefle!" She quickly turned away. She did not flee, but stayed on the bridge. From then on, though, that skittish look came upon her whenever the yogre came near.
The yogre loved her friend, and began to worry that she was living on the bridge, instead of traversing on it. The bridge was sturdy, but was not for residing on. So, choosing her words ever so carefully, she began to talk to her friend about the bridge.
"Grr-gar-hooph! Warr!" the friend heard her say, and scurried away to the princess to confide in her how the yogre had frightened her.
The princess said nothing of this to the yogre.
Then one day, they came to gates of the City of which the kingdom was only a reflection. They went in, and they knew, even as they were known. Their King wiped away their tears, and they loved one another perfectly.
Once upon a time, there was a princess. She was full of beauty and wisdom. She was friendly and everyone in the kingdom loved her. She was generous and hospitable, and her home was always bussling with guests. She was wise, and many sought her wisdom and confidence.
Then one day, a yogre moved into the kingdom. Like many yogres, when this yogre smiled, it often looked like she sneered, grimmaced, or growled. Because she was a yogre, like her mother and grandmother before her, her countanace was stern. When she laughed, a great "Gur-hoof, gur-hoof, snorrt" could be heard from a great distance, and many in the kingdom slipped silently away upon hearing it.
A yogre knows that she is a yogre, and will generally speak and laugh only with those who do not flee, and let the others go, not wishing to distress them further.
When she spoke, she usually got her words all mixed up, and sometimes made no sense at all. She came from a kingdom much different from this one, and often her speech and manners were misunderstood. She loved this kingdom, though, and so she continued on in it. In it was the air she breathed.
She loved the princess too. From time to time, she would muster up her courage and seek the pricess's wisdom regarding customs of the kingdom. When she did this, she tried really hard to choose her words carefully and not to laugh much so as not to frighten the princess away.
The princess was kind, as well as wise and beautiful, and always stayed long enough to answer the yogre's question. The yogre thought the princess was also brave, for she thought she saw a look of trepidation in the princess's eye whenever they spoke.
Then one day, the yogre, afraid of frightening one of the peasants away, chose herwords frantically rather than carefully, saying in haste, "I love you, don't flee!"
"GARR-UF!" the peasant heard the yogre say, and fled to the princess to confide in her how the yogre had frightened her.
The princess said nothing of this to the yogre.
Then one day, the yogre was walking on a kingdom path, enjoying the life her King had granted her, when she saw one of her peasant friends walking across a bridge. The yogre had seen many of the kingdom peasants walking on this very bridge, although not all of them took that path. The yogre smiled and waved a greeting at her peasant friend, who saw her sneer and heard her say, "Wheeeefle!" She quickly turned away. She did not flee, but stayed on the bridge. From then on, though, that skittish look came upon her whenever the yogre came near.
The yogre loved her friend, and began to worry that she was living on the bridge, instead of traversing on it. The bridge was sturdy, but was not for residing on. So, choosing her words ever so carefully, she began to talk to her friend about the bridge.
"Grr-gar-hooph! Warr!" the friend heard her say, and scurried away to the princess to confide in her how the yogre had frightened her.
The princess said nothing of this to the yogre.
Then one day, they came to gates of the City of which the kingdom was only a reflection. They went in, and they knew, even as they were known. Their King wiped away their tears, and they loved one another perfectly.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
I Hear Voices
I hear voices.
Usually it is my own, and that one drones on in my head endlessly.
Tonight, while I was coming home from Bible study, the radio was on, and they were talking about the weather while I thought of something else. Suddenly, from behind me, I heard, "MAMMA ..." My entire skin contracted from the top of my head on down, and I nearly got in an accident trying to figure out what child was speaking so loudly from behind the seat of the pick up truck. Then I realized that it was a commercial aimed at mothers who felt like they were being pulled in all directions, and needed a quick and easy time with the Lord. Upon realizing that, my skin (all of it) having begun to relax, contracted again. I couldn't believe the effect this had on me. It seriously hurt! I was suddenly physically and emotionally exhausted.
Twice, though I have "heard" answers to deep questions. One was about two years ago, I was trying to figure out what to do. I was racking my brain, and, in prayer, asked God who I could talk to about this. "Glen." "My husband?" I responded, "no, no. I know what he will say." "Glen." So I talked to Glen about my (our) delemma. He gave wise counsel; totally blew my mind.
Today, I was thinking about a problem, and wishing that I had Glen on my side about this, just in this one matter. Why doesn't he see things my way? I pray for God's wisdom for him. I honor him. I submit to him. "But do you love it?" "Love what? You told me to submit to him. I pray for your wisdom for him, and I submit to him." "But do you love it?" "No, I pray for your wisdom for him, submitting to him while I wait for you to change his mind." "Love it. Rejoice in it."
God has given me a husband to lead me. He has given me protection, and my children a father to lead them and love them and protect them. I mindlessly ask God to give me joy in submission and then pray for wisdom for my husband while in my heart meaning, "Make him think like me. (just in this one matter)" This is despising the gift that God has given me. It is puffing myself up as the wisdom of God.
God has given me good. I need to love it, and rejoice in it. My deceiptful heart wants to add, "even if I disagree with it," but that is where I was. That is what I repent of. That is what I want to turn away from. That is what creates bitterness.
I need to see with eyes of faith that God has Glen's heart in His hand, and His ways are much higher than my ways, and His thoughts than my thoughts.
Usually it is my own, and that one drones on in my head endlessly.
Tonight, while I was coming home from Bible study, the radio was on, and they were talking about the weather while I thought of something else. Suddenly, from behind me, I heard, "MAMMA ..." My entire skin contracted from the top of my head on down, and I nearly got in an accident trying to figure out what child was speaking so loudly from behind the seat of the pick up truck. Then I realized that it was a commercial aimed at mothers who felt like they were being pulled in all directions, and needed a quick and easy time with the Lord. Upon realizing that, my skin (all of it) having begun to relax, contracted again. I couldn't believe the effect this had on me. It seriously hurt! I was suddenly physically and emotionally exhausted.
Twice, though I have "heard" answers to deep questions. One was about two years ago, I was trying to figure out what to do. I was racking my brain, and, in prayer, asked God who I could talk to about this. "Glen." "My husband?" I responded, "no, no. I know what he will say." "Glen." So I talked to Glen about my (our) delemma. He gave wise counsel; totally blew my mind.
Today, I was thinking about a problem, and wishing that I had Glen on my side about this, just in this one matter. Why doesn't he see things my way? I pray for God's wisdom for him. I honor him. I submit to him. "But do you love it?" "Love what? You told me to submit to him. I pray for your wisdom for him, and I submit to him." "But do you love it?" "No, I pray for your wisdom for him, submitting to him while I wait for you to change his mind." "Love it. Rejoice in it."
God has given me a husband to lead me. He has given me protection, and my children a father to lead them and love them and protect them. I mindlessly ask God to give me joy in submission and then pray for wisdom for my husband while in my heart meaning, "Make him think like me. (just in this one matter)" This is despising the gift that God has given me. It is puffing myself up as the wisdom of God.
God has given me good. I need to love it, and rejoice in it. My deceiptful heart wants to add, "even if I disagree with it," but that is where I was. That is what I repent of. That is what I want to turn away from. That is what creates bitterness.
I need to see with eyes of faith that God has Glen's heart in His hand, and His ways are much higher than my ways, and His thoughts than my thoughts.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Tuesday, Fish Dinner!
Today, Tuesday, I was not fish-bait, but a side dish in a wonderfull Fish Dinner with a dear sister.
Soft spoken and tender-hearted, and 17 weeks pregnant, Van arranged to meet me at Planned Parenthood. She is the strong one; she is the brave one.
God is good, and it rained, a steady drizzle. Not enough to get really soaked, but enough to show God's glory.
It is the same sidewalk and parking lot as on Thursdays, but not. The parking lot at 10 or so was sparsely used. A woman pulled in and parked and got out. The words stuck in the back of my throat and she walked to the building. So far I have only uttered a friendly "Good Morning" or two. She returned immediately to her car. We asked if they were closed. She said that they open at 10:30.
While we waited we talked, getting to know each other better, and sharing the courage that we gave each other. Three young-looking black people got out of a car, two girls and a boy, but would not respond to our greeting. We moved around to look at the smoking area, where on fine days, those who are waiting for their appointment will sit and smoke, or eat and apple, or read a novel. It is like a place appointed by God to sow seed, or draw them or call them or snatch them from the flames. When it rains, though no one sits on a stone bench and smokes.
We found that when we stood in the alley, they could turn away from us to walk to the door, and thereby ignore us easily. When we stood on the sidewalk, near the privacy fence, we could greet them as they approached the door, and they could see, from their natural periferal vision, that we appeared to be friendly and harmless. To respond to us, in this position, they had to go out of their way. They had to turn, in the rain and come to us, instead of to the door of Planned Parenthood.
I was amazed to see the glory of God in the rain. I was amazed to see a young woman, walk past the entrance and approach us when we called to her. Her claim to not be pregnant and not here for an abortion was her acknowledgement that she knew what we were about. It was her "Peace, peace." We learned from her.
I was amazed to see a young man whom we saw go in alone, turn away from his car, which now was only three feet from him, to approach us and accept an information sheet. He did not offer an explanation about his presense there, and we did not ask. We learned from him.
I was amazed each time someone, in the rain, went out of their way to come to us.
I was amazed when Van called me later, for she stayed when I had to get back to work, and told me that a young woman, with an umbrella and a satchel, whom I had seen go in, but missed the opportunity to speak to her; came out and talked with Van. She listened as Van told her that she herself is 17weeks pregnant. She even waited (if I understood her correctly) while Van called Car, and asked where the Crisis Pregnancy Center is.
God is amazing, and I extol His wondrous works.
I was going to include a neat document that David (Mr. T) in our church created to hand out on campus, but I couldn't get it to stick. I made copies and we handed them out today. It was a very good thing to have, I think. It was something for them to look at while we fumbled for something to say. They were read intently on occasion.
I am greatly encouraged.
Soft spoken and tender-hearted, and 17 weeks pregnant, Van arranged to meet me at Planned Parenthood. She is the strong one; she is the brave one.
God is good, and it rained, a steady drizzle. Not enough to get really soaked, but enough to show God's glory.
It is the same sidewalk and parking lot as on Thursdays, but not. The parking lot at 10 or so was sparsely used. A woman pulled in and parked and got out. The words stuck in the back of my throat and she walked to the building. So far I have only uttered a friendly "Good Morning" or two. She returned immediately to her car. We asked if they were closed. She said that they open at 10:30.
While we waited we talked, getting to know each other better, and sharing the courage that we gave each other. Three young-looking black people got out of a car, two girls and a boy, but would not respond to our greeting. We moved around to look at the smoking area, where on fine days, those who are waiting for their appointment will sit and smoke, or eat and apple, or read a novel. It is like a place appointed by God to sow seed, or draw them or call them or snatch them from the flames. When it rains, though no one sits on a stone bench and smokes.
We found that when we stood in the alley, they could turn away from us to walk to the door, and thereby ignore us easily. When we stood on the sidewalk, near the privacy fence, we could greet them as they approached the door, and they could see, from their natural periferal vision, that we appeared to be friendly and harmless. To respond to us, in this position, they had to go out of their way. They had to turn, in the rain and come to us, instead of to the door of Planned Parenthood.
I was amazed to see the glory of God in the rain. I was amazed to see a young woman, walk past the entrance and approach us when we called to her. Her claim to not be pregnant and not here for an abortion was her acknowledgement that she knew what we were about. It was her "Peace, peace." We learned from her.
I was amazed to see a young man whom we saw go in alone, turn away from his car, which now was only three feet from him, to approach us and accept an information sheet. He did not offer an explanation about his presense there, and we did not ask. We learned from him.
I was amazed each time someone, in the rain, went out of their way to come to us.
I was amazed when Van called me later, for she stayed when I had to get back to work, and told me that a young woman, with an umbrella and a satchel, whom I had seen go in, but missed the opportunity to speak to her; came out and talked with Van. She listened as Van told her that she herself is 17weeks pregnant. She even waited (if I understood her correctly) while Van called Car, and asked where the Crisis Pregnancy Center is.
God is amazing, and I extol His wondrous works.
I was going to include a neat document that David (Mr. T) in our church created to hand out on campus, but I couldn't get it to stick. I made copies and we handed them out today. It was a very good thing to have, I think. It was something for them to look at while we fumbled for something to say. They were read intently on occasion.
I am greatly encouraged.
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