Dining with Distinction

I am not a food critic, by any means. In fact, food and I have had a love-hate relationship for years. But that's for another day. One thing I do enjoy is being with my husband. He likes to eat. So, I've had this idea in the back of my mind for years; we finally got around to making it happen.

Many universities and culinary schools have their own dining experiences open to the public. Since we are just a stone's throw from Widener University, we visited their Hospitality Management Program's "laboratory", the Marriott Dining Room, located on campus. What a treat! For a fraction of the cost of a four course dinner for two, Scott and I enjoyed a delicious, relaxing dinner, prepared and served by the students.

I tell you all this not because I want to discuss the piquant flavors or the comfortable atmosphere; I tell you this because I am all about people. And the reason for my experience was all about people. I wanted to spend time with my husband. This was something easy we could do, midweek -- a time when our schedule usually consists of work, sleep, repeat. This was also a new thing for both of us. We experienced something new together, discussed new things in a completely new setting, while interacting with some new people.

But there were some other people I was interested in as well -- the students. While I do not necessarily chase after great places to eat, I love to cook. So, I sort of "get" their passion. My first "real" job was in food service. That job ignited something in me that has remained ablaze ever since -- a desire to create with food and to serve others. As we dined, I watched them nervously search our faces for that look of satisfaction, delight and sweet surprise. If you've ever created something or done some meaningful deed for someone, you understand that look; you understand the hard work and thoughtfulness it takes to get that from the people you serve, and what it means when you know your labors have brought happiness to others. You understand the excitement and anticipation, and maybe even wonder at what you were able to accomplish. I enjoyed being able to encourage the students and give them specific, helpful feedback; I enjoyed hearing a little about them and their goals, and watching them loosen up, their tension melting from their faces as smiles took over.

Well, the food was delicious, and the experience was more than I could have imagined. But, rather than a wait staff who made themselves available but invisible, this group of hard-working students and their cuisine were the stars of the show. And rightfully so!

http://www.widener.edu/academics/schools/sba/hospitality/marriott.aspx

Are You Bold Enough to Share the Gospel?

I did "street ministry" for the very first time, a year ago. Except it wasn't really on a street. I joined a group from our church as went to a nearby hospital to talk to some folks about Jesus. A hospital in our neighborhood. A hospital where my neighbors work. Five years ago, I could not have done that. All my life I had shown people what being a Christian looked like -- that is, when I wasn't acting like I was playing for the other team. I did good things; I smiled; I attended church. "This is what Christians do." My problem was legalism. I was doing Christian things, but I was not seeking Christ. Once I began truly seeking Christ and giving "me" up more and more each day, I really did begin to look like a Christian. I did things out of love for my Savior and love for others. "I want to serve you because I love Jesus." Better, right? Yes, but still not quite there. I needed to stop hiding behind the "virtual testimony", and start talking to folks. But how would I ever muster up enough courage for that? Let me tell you how.

First, I started mentioning church a little more; I started telling folks about what my church was doing, or how I went to church. But only when asked. "We have church stuff. What are you doing this weekend?"

Then, "God" began showing up in my speech. "God" was safe, right? Pretty much everyone believes in a god or some higher power; certainly everyone has used His name in vain, right? Safe.

"Time to take it up a notch", I thought. I began inviting people to church. "Hey, our worship band is pretty cool, and our church is kinda laid back. I think you'd like it." I was witnessing, right? Not so much.

Then, I began helping at a food bank. I told clients what God had done for me; how, at the lowest times of my life -- God. I told them that God is the reason I help others, that God is the reason I am able to give my time and some extra groceries to help others. I told them God wanted to help them, too, that He was never far from them, that He could turn their lives completely around. Can anyone share the gospel without mentioning Jesus?

Then, something happened. The church I had attended for years began to change. Messages were being preached on praying for the dead. There were "new ideas" about what was and wasn't in the Bible, and was and wasn't obedience to God's laws. There was a new focus, and it was not on Scripture. This wishy-washy brand of Christianity, this "seeker-friendly" gospel nauseated me. "Careful, don't offend people with talk about sin and hell and such." We left. In favor of a church that encouraged Scripture reading, that encouraged being heavenly-minded so you could be of earthly good, that encouraged seeking God above all else, that celebrated the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ. Publicly and often! I got "fired up", as they say, and I wanted to tell others about Jesus. With the support of a like-minded group of committed Christians, eager to serve the Lord, I began to tell others as well as show others! And I wound up speaking to total strangers about Jesus

God did that. Not overnight. But while I sought Him, while I fell more deeply in love with Him and His people, He planted His word in my heart; He strengthened my prayer walk and challenged my thinking; He drew closer to me and showed me the consequences of not clearly, accurately teaching the facts according to God's word; He gave me the support of a serious body of saints and gave me the words He wanted me to use. I only had to hold His hand and leap. It's all the boldness I ever needed.

I Am Sick of Tots and Pears!

Let me just say, I pray. If you want me to do something about your problems, and there is something I can do, I will. But if your problem is your problem, or it is bigger than the both of us, I pray.

Recently, the "tots and pears group" has become a disparaged class. From our President on down to the kid that sat next to you in pre-school and has somehow made it to your Twitter feed, "no one wants your thoughts and prayers." Well, my friend, that is complete foolishness right there. I know there are people who say "thoughts and prayers" who never give your grief or fear another thought, and certainly don't pray -- so let's just get those folks out of the way right now. I'm not talking about those people. And I'm not talking about using prayer as an excuse for inaction. I'm talking about people who really, regularly lift you and your situation up in prayer.

Prayer is a way we open the door to God in a situation. Sure, God knows what's going on, and God certainly works in ways we are not aware, at times we do not recognize His intervention, but through prayer we demonstrate our willingness to accept His management. Through prayer we give the issue to God and allow Him to work -- on it, on others, on illness, on finances, on pain, on us.

As I was praying for someone the other morning, it dawned on me what a perfect thing prayer is. As we pray for a specific need or concern we petition One who not only loves us beyond description, who not only empathizes with that need, but we petition God, who has the ability to bestow His wisdom, power, goodness, healing and grace on that situation! What good is prayer if we are merely lifting up our problems to an insensitive authority? What good would prayer do anyone if we were praying to someone who can't begin to understand the feelings that come with our tragedies, or the accruing side effects of difficult situations, or the need for us to endure them?! What good is it to pray to someone with no ability to affect your circumstances? But God, the One who inclines His ear to the faithful, loves us, has an understanding of our problems far beyond our own, and can intervene in ways we could never imagine. In fact, as I prayed, I realized I didn't have words enough or even knowledge enough to know how I should pray or what I was really asking for. But God knows! How great is that?!

I always tell folks, if you're on my mind, you're in my prayers. And I mean it. Thoughts and prayers. I honestly believe people have entered my life for the purpose of praying for me or being prayed for by me. Quick story: Two years ago, a young man by the name of Anthony, backed into my Explorer, causing some minor damage. We exchanged information. Less than two weeks later, my beloved "Pig" was totaled in a separate accident. I was privileged to call Anthony and tell him God had blessed him, he was absolved of his obligation. He was so sweet -- he asked if everyone was OK prior to thanking me repeatedly, but we have never crossed paths again. What could be the reason for such an unremarkable meeting? I can see a few -- one of which is, I occasionally pray for this young man. I figure God didn't cross our paths for nothing, and until He shows me something different or enables me to do something more tangible, I pray for Anthony.

So, meme, scoff, tweet, do what you feel have to do; but know, you'll be in my thoughts and prayers.

Tough Love

I can't say my circumstances are unique; I can, however, say they are challenging. This past weekend was particularly so.

Mom normally has trouble verbalizing, but I have found there is a part of her brain, usually linked to some sort of youthful hubris or childlike joy, that enables her to speak pretty clearly. This weekend she had some pretty intense feelings about us -- particularly Scott -- and those feelings weren't joy, and she had no problem sharing them. On one occasion, she confided to me about my husband, "I would kick him right in the face." Funny, right? No, not at the time. That one struck a nerve. Yes, because he's my husband. Yes, because what he was doing was of no consequence to her. But LARGELY because that was Helen. That was not the opinion of some afflicted 87-year old woman; that was my mother! Mom always sought to create division. Mom would whisper in my father's ear that the people at church were whispering about her. Mom would snipe at me that my friends were catty and manipulative. I saw this latest attack, not so much on my husband, as on my marriage -- she was looking to divide and conquer once again.

So, here was this damaged, debilitated woman. I am responsible for her care. And she had struck something so deep in me and attacked something so valuable to me. And we've got a whole lot of life left. She won't be going home at the end of the week. I won't be turning her care over to the next shift. Come Sunday evening when Scott goes to bed, it will, once again, be Mom and I and our routine.

Praise God. He is good! And He has taught me volumes about the way I process my emotions. They are just feelings. Feelings are deceptive. Feelings are not truth. I felt angry at my mom. I felt like I was that naive child or insecure teen again. I wanted her to stop her Machiavellian crap! And I was right to be angry. My marriage is sacred; my husband is a treasure. God made it so. But angry at someone who  always seemed so miserable in her relationships she felt the need to tamper with others? Angry at someone whose pettiness is, in no way, going to destroy what Scott and I have? Angry at someone who will, one day, answer for that? Oh, God, spare her! My anger was just, but misdirected.

I felt small and foolish. But that is not truth. I am more wise and confident than ever, because I am resting in what the Lord says. I see those schemes, and while she was the instrument, Satan is the schemer. I have confidence in my marriage, in truth, in love and grace, because of Christ. I have strength and support in the ongoing care of my mom. My steps are ordered and directed by the One who holds my future, not the one who would delight in denying me a future. I rest in Christ, and what He has prepared for me to do.

He has prepared me to love -- even when it is tough.