Category: Love

“Hours of Innocence”: A Creative Writing Sample Introduction…

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Two children, a boy of fourteen and a girl of twelve, casually climb the hills, embarking on adventure without any sense of hesitation. The arduous path to the Colorado mountain lake is steep and rocky, full of skree once they reach nine, then ten thousand feet in elevation.

Hundred foot pines flank each side of the trail. The smell of woods and clean mountain air drifts out to inundate their senses. Wild mule deer cross trails littered with haphazard sprinklings of gravel, grass and golden daisies.

Tall mountain pines encircle this piece of the western United States. The wind navigates through them to create a steady, gentle cadence as the children, Daniel and Grace, walk and talk.

As they crest the last ridge, they encounter a basin at the foot of reddish-orange, sloping mountains. Subconsciously, they both grow quiet and their breaths become deeper as they struggle to take it all in. Their destination is even lovelier than the journey.

Soft summer sun shines down on the perfect alpine meadow. Violet elephant head flowers carpet the spongy soil, surrounding the ice cold, midnight blue lake. The small lake is shoreless, level with the grassy ground surrounding it. Lines of snow visibly trace the downwardly sloping skeletons of the mountains, diagonally flowing into the water-soaked soil. Bright green aspen leaves quake in a gentle breeze.

The beauty stops the two friends. They’ve played and chatted along the way as children do, lighthearted, as children are. They surrender to the day and the moments it offers, including this one, this moment of arrival.

Accepting Joy…

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Part of my very part-time employment at present is working with a woman who also has a severe neurological condition, though hers is far more severe. I model a few exercises and provide a little massage and stretching; she models so much more for me. She’s been sick for most of thirty years, and has spent thirteen of those paralyzed from the waist down and regulated to a wheelchair. And yet, she always has a smile on her face. When I asked her how she was able to be so upbeat and positive, she said that she wouldn’t want the husband who’s been her caretaker all those years to have to live with a grump. This made me smile; it almost seems like a casual and lighthearted approach to coping with illness, but it is most definitely far more. Long ago, she made a very intentional choice to live in acceptance, gratitude and joy, one I’m sure she has had to make that choice over and over again, but she has. Hers is a very cultivated positivity held perfectly in tension with practical surrender, and they end result is joy.

 

She calls it grace. It reminds me of what Ann Voskamp once wrote: “Grace is like the wind. It finds us as we are, but it does not leave us as we have been. All is grace.” Grace has met her anew each day in exactly the place she is; it continually shapes and molds her into the image of God. She’s a willing vessel in the hands of a skillful potter; anyone has only to look at my friend’s radiant countenance to be awestruck by its fragile strength. She’s a former elementary teacher, a mom and wife and daughter and sister and aunt and friend. She’s a quilter and a prayer warrior and a blessing to all who know her. I’m so very thankful: in a season of struggling to accept my own challenging circumstances, or perhaps simply arriving in the place where I actually have accepted them, God has given me this beautiful example. I want to accept the joy that fills and surrounds me and say with my friend and the saints of old, as voiced by the prophet Isaiah: “And yet LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter” (Isaiah 64:8).

 

*Photo by Ann Voskamp. 

An Iron Will: A Tribute to Georgine…

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Tomorrow is Independence Day, a celebration of what it means to know free life. The Fourth of July marks not only that for me: it is both the anniversary of a friend’s spiritual birthday in 1950, as well as that of her “home-going” sixty-four years later. She’s been gone for three years now, and it still doesn’t seem possible that’s a reality; I can hear her voice as if it were yesterday. From the day I met her when I moved to this area in 2008, she said I was a kindred spirit and adopted me as a granddaughter. She called me her “Sweet Pea”; I called her my “Mama G”. She reminded me of the grandmother I lost when I was nine years old: Mama G’s quiet strength, obdurate determination, compassionate presence and vocal faith mirrored those of my Grandma Thelma. I was instantly at home with her.

 

Mama G was an example of the faith and perseverance of the saints to all who knew her. She modeled for me how one could live well with serious illness, something she coped with admirably for almost half her life: the chronic and inflammatory autoimmune disease Lupus targeted her as a young mother. Everything she did over the next decades came at a cost, but she counted it all worthy of the price she paid. She told me often with great sincerity that she counted it a true joy to share even a small bit of the suffering that was our Lord’s, and she lived out its truth. Her best friend says she had an “iron will”. As Proverbs 27:17 says, “As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” She helped all her loved ones (in other words, everyone she knew) to be shaped into the mold of our Savior. In the spring of 2014, she contracted pancreatic cancer, the same disease took my Grandma Thelma’s life. They say it’s the most painful way to die: since the pancreas sits on a bundle of nerves that travel throughout the whole body, its sensations are akin to those of crucifixion. Though a nerve block relieved that pain for a while, in the end she suffered its fullness. Again, she counted it all joy and faced it with that iron will, her eyes on Jesus. A few short months later, she went Home to be with God. In life and in death, she celebrated free life that did not come without a cost; her soul at last found its final rest. 

 

I am only one who loved this precious woman of God, she was precious to many, but I remember and miss her every single day. As I face each new dawn and dusk, I hear the words to one of her favorite hymns Carolina Sandell Berg, modeling the acceptant trust with which she lived all the days of her life, Day by Day:

 

Help me then, in every tribulation,

So to trust Thy promises, O Lord,

That I lose not faith’s sweet consolation,

Offered me within Thy holy Word.

Help me, Lord, when toil and trouble meeting,

E’er to take, as from a father’s hand,

One by one, the days, the moments fleeting,

Till with Christ the Lord I stand.

A Cadence  of Thanksgiving…

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Since the time I was introduced to author Ann Voskamp through her book 1,000 Gifts several years ago, my thoughts and journals have been filled with lists of gratitude. As I walk and work and wade through life, conscious choices have built practices that have transformed me. Psalm 118:23-24 says, “I will enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise. I will say this is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” If we are ever feeling out of the fullness of His presence, praise is the solution to encountering it once more.

 

Making sure our prayers are balanced with ACTS (Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving and Supplication), and not simply petitions for our needs and wants to be met, is part of the discipline of the Christian life. In her book 31 Days of Praise, author Ruth Meyers  revolutionized my prayers to praise early in my Christian walk, but the poetry of Ann Voskamp’s prose awakened my senses in a new way. Truly, there are thousands of gifts to take note of:

 

1, 697-Waking up basked in sunlight.

1, 704-A fun breakfast with former students; hearing about their college adventures.

1, 707-Storm rolling in over the mountains.

1, 716-Dwelling in a place of refuge.

1, 722-Walking and processing with a friend.

1, 723-Cobalt blue of the Colorado sky; walking with Colorado sunshine on my shoulders.

1, 745-Sitting on the porch to read a novel.

1, 765-Kindness, grace and understanding of true friends.

 

Now my days resonate with a cadence of thanksgiving as I set the intention of capturing the thousands of ways God works to romance me each day.

***Photo credits to Love Does

“He Restores My Soul…”

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“You don’t have to come, but you always do. You show up in splendor, you change the whole room…”, sings Bethel artist Jonathan Helser in his song “Thank You”. Isn’t this so true? God continually shows up for us, perhaps in unexpected ways, but faithfully filling all those empty spaces that can seem so vacant of presence and the glorious.

 

I’ve always been a person with a very fragile strength. Sometimes it seems I’m a little too frail for this world. I’m empty when it comes to meeting the world’s great need, or to meeting my own brokenness. I don’t have the power to bring myself or anyone else to life….but, God does. He fills me with life and light again and again. My Shepherd satisfies my wants, not just needs, and restores my soul (Psalm 23:1,3). As Lamentations 3:22b reminds us, though we may lament our circumstances and feel sorrow that can dry us up, “His mercies are new every morning.”

 

He doesn’t have to come. God could have chosen to be farther removed from His creation. He could have made us only His servants and not the objects of His affection. Just what did we do to merit all the loveliness there is in this world? David asked in Psalm 8:4: “What is man that you are mindful of him?”. My creator could let my fragile strength and spirits remain depleted. But instead, He refreshes and renews and fills me with each new day; new mercies are offered day by day. He continually offers me Presence and encounters with the lovely and the glorious. “He prepares a table before me….my cup runneth over.”

Defined: Adequate or Inadequate?

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I am a teacher. This is how I’ve defined myself most of my adult life. It’s become not just an occupation, or even a vocation, but also an integral part of my identity. That wasn’t my intention of course, but unwittingly, it’s the identity I chose. Perhaps it’s because I’m single and “my kids” have been just that to me; perhaps it’s the tendency we all have, particularly as westerners and Americans, to let what we do define us. I’m reminded of an English movie I saw recently where two strangers meet and one asks the other, “And what do you do?” The new acquaintance responds, “My, aren’t you sounding American.” In any case, though our actions always speak the truth of our characters, and however much we are shaped by the icebergs of culture around us, I can’t let my career define me.

 

I’ve come up against this rather startlingly in recent months when it became obvious that I was no longer serving or caring for my students as their teacher should, primarily because of health challenges. Leaving teaching behind is one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make. To be honest, I guess I would say I feel a little groundless now, particularly in responding to the questions that characterize dinner parties.  My aunt has always wisely said it took her a long time to learn we are called human beings and not human doings for a reason. Just why is it so scary for us to offer up ourselves as we are without listing what we are doing and accomplishing? For me at least, it feels insufficient. But God says to me that He has made me sufficient. As Marilynne Robinson once wrote, and as quoted by Nelson Mandela in his inauguration speech:

“Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate; our greatest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. You say, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God! Your playing small does not serve the world….and as we let our own lights shine, we unconsciously liberate others to do the same.”

I am a child of God, defined only by how He views me: totally right with Him, completely accepted as I am, utterly worthy of dignity and delight. I’m clinging to that these days, trying to learn to see myself through His eyes.

The Body of Christ, Crucified…

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Church is important to me, and at least until my health became poor several years ago, I was very involved in ministry within it. Lately, however, I’ve been discovering I feel pretty apathetic towards it. I still love to worship in it, to raise my voice in song and take communion with others, to listen to messages that dig deep into the Word. To be quite honest, though, there’s something about it that can be so exhausting. The people who inhabit churches can be so broken, as we all can be. On the flip side, I’ve also been the recipient of generosity, grace and lots more love than I could ever deserve from people within churches. I’m not meaning to throw punches, and certainly have no right to cast stones; I know I can’t remain in apathy or disconnection, and that my eyes should be on God alone. It seems, however, that if there’s something to this whole faith thing, and I know that I know that there is, there should be something different about church.

 

I remember reading somewhere years ago, though I’m not sure of the source, an explanation of church that has helped me in accepting this, or at least it made it all so much more comprehensible. It explained that the Body of Christ, the Church, is still the broken body of Christ. Though often filled with wonderful and well-intentioned people, and inhabited by the Holy Spirit, the Church will not be the resurrected and perfected Body of Christ until the day our Savior returns. One day, we too, shall be like Him; for now, we are all still being sanctified. Sometimes, as when the church welcomes all into its doors and steps out into communities and preaches with actions and not just words, reaches out its hands to help those in need, we are like Him even now. Others, we are broken and bleeding and wounded…but still, the blood flows down from the Savior who died to bring all men to Him. As the band Casting Crowns said in their song “If We Are the Body”, may we continue striving to be His arms reaching, His hands healing, His words teaching, His feet going, His love showing [the world] there is a way.

 

Photo Credits, & an Interesting Article: http://www.charismanews.com/us/53715-study-thousands-of-churches-closing-every-year-but-there-is-a-silver-lining

“A Whole New World: Will You Trust Me?”

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However large and spacious is the place we call home, there’s always a great big world out there. In the classic Disney movie Aladdin, the turning point comes when Aladdin flies up on his new magic carpet to Jasmine’s window & invites her to take a ride w/ him. Although she obviously wants to go, she questions if it’s safe, & he…well, he holds out his hand to her, & asks if she’ll trust him. After a moment of hesitation she accepts the hand & adventure offered, hops on, & the rest is history! “A Whole New World” awaits.

 

Each time God invites me off on a new adventure, I find myself feeling as though I’m in Jasmine’s shoes, & my Lord has asked me Aladdin’s question: “Do you trust me?”

 

What can I do besides smile & give Him my hand & heart & obedience. The rides He takes me on never disappoint, & multiple times, I’ve been exposed to a whole new world, a whole new way of living, a whole new level of trust. It calls to mind an old poem by an unknown author:

 

“It isn’t that I cling to Him, or struggle to be blessed. He simply takes my hand in His, & there I let it rest. So I dread not any pathway, fear to sail on any sea, since the handclasp of my Savior makes the journey safe for me.”

“Just to Be With YOU…”

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The legendary band Third Day has a beautiful song called “Love Song For a Savior”. The song’s basic premise is that the author has heard stories of men who would climb the highest mountains & sail the farthest seas, just to be with the ones they love. These love stories call to deep places within us & stir our longings to find such love, to find another who would do anything “just to be with us”. As sincere as men may be in their desires to show & win love, the proclamations are rarely realized or lived out. Though these actions are nearly impossible for the humans in our lives, with God ALL things are possible, & He has offered all to win our hearts as His own.

 

As lead singer Mac Powell beautifully sings out, “I never swam the deepest ocean, but I walked the Sea of Galilee….I never climbed the highest mountain, but I climbed the hill to Calgary. Just to be with you, I would do anything. There’s no cross I wouldn’t bear. Just to be with you I gave everything. For YOU I gave my life away.” Your Father offered His beloved Son & His Son offered His life & they both gave their Spirit just to be with YOU! The love your heart most longs for has come down to dwell in YOU. Will you enter in?

“Jesus, I Am Resting”…

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”Jesus, I am resting, in the joy of what Thou art. I am finding out the measure of Thy loving heart. Thou hast bid’st me gaze upon Thee, and Thy beauty fills my soul, for by Thy transforming power, Thou hast made me whole” (Pigott, Jean; “Jesus, I Am Resting”). This is the first chorus of the famed nineteenth century missionary to China, & founder of the transformative China Inland Mission group,  Hudson Taylor. In the face of grief, after losing his beloved wife, having long suffered heavy criticism and isolation, he wrote to his sister in England that these words were his greatest source of comfort. How difficult it is to be still and to rest in the sovereignty and presence of God, when He has allowed the one you most love to leave your side.

 

I’ve recently made a very personal, and yet public, decision to leave a ten-year career as a public school teacher because of my health. In so doing, I gave up any hope that my life could be easily understood by others looking in from the outside. I’ve been so blessed that there are many family and friends who understand or empathize the intensity of the process I am in, and who have offered me shelter and respite. It feels a bit like I’ve taken a giant leap off a cliff, and mercifully landed on a spacious precipice, but with the vast unknown still before me. I can’t see the next steps, the future is still completely unknown, and yet…it is here, in this place, today, that I must learn to rest. Deuteronomy 33:27 says, “The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.” They seem to echo the following verses of this great hymn, and prompt me to fix my gaze on God alone:

 

“Simply trusting Thee Lord Jesus, I behold Thee as Thou art,

and Thy love, so pure, so changeless, satisfies my heart.

Satisfies its every longing, meets, supplies, its every need.

Compasseth me round with blessings, Thine is love indeed.

Ever fix my gaze upon Thee, as I work and watch for Thee.

Resting ‘neath Thy smile Lord Jesus, earth’s dark shadows flee.

Sunshine of my Father’s glory, brightness of my Father’s face.

Keep my ever resting, trusting, Fill me with Thy grace.”