Saturday, May 12, 2018

With Love, Mom


God's Dear Child,

I want you to know just how much I love you. The times I held you, the times I watched you succeed and fail, the times I watched you walk away -- they all did something very profound to my heart. But this was never about me. Or, at least, it should not have been.

I know there were times I was tired or frustrated; I was short with you, and wanted my own way, and maybe, disciplined you too harshly or too quickly. Perhaps I should have spent more time talking to you -- or listening to you. I made mistakes, and I hope you will forgive me for them -- not because I lie awake in torment each night, but because one day you might. Because forgiveness makes you a better person. Because forgiveness keeps you from negating all of the good because of the bad. Because forgiveness is obedience to God -- if you care about such things.

You are growing: growing up, growing old. But I pray this is more than just an outward transformation. I pray there is maturity -- not worldliness, for worldliness makes us cold and hard on the outside, and hurt and delicate on the inside. Seek maturity that allows you to be kind when kindness isn't called for, and soft when everything within you screams for cast iron walls around your heart. A maturity that causes you to walk a little taller with fearlessness and certainty, even on roads you've never traveled. A maturity that sees beyond what is into what can be; and sees beyond what can be into what you must do to make it so. A maturity that knows pain and sweat and failure -- I mean really knows it -- that thrives on those things like a health food nut on nutritional yeast! They may not be as coveted as the delicacies of life, but they are the rock on which balance and completeness are honed. A maturity that is wise and patient; that sees the big picture, and knows it has not been painted for you, but is crafted by you, and countless others.

Perhaps I have said all these things before. Perhaps you have dismissed them because you know who I am -- my faults, my weaknesses. Allow me to challenge you to listen now to a woman who, with age, with maturity, and with Jesus Christ has seen a better way. Has seen the person she wishes she could have been -- for you. Be that better person. Be all the Lord has intended you to be. Right now.

Friday, May 11, 2018

How Have You Been Called?

This morning I was reading Mark's account of Jesus' ministry, the Lord and His twelve disciples moving about the countryside with Jesus speaking and performing miracles. Mark tells how Jesus cast demons from a man and into a herd of pigs. Please don't focus on the pigs -- a man in great bondage was set free! Pigs are cute and and great as bacon, but people are worth more than pigs. Anyway, the folks in that area wanted nothing to do with that kind of authority; they asked Jesus to leave. As He was preparing to leave, the man who'd been cleansed of demons approached; he wanted to join Jesus and His disciples, but Jesus would not permit it. "Go home to your friends and tell them what great things the Lord has done for you, and how He has compassion on you."

Jesus instructed the man who'd been released from demons to preach. A man whom no one could restrain or tame, violent and out of his mind with a demonic hostility so alienating it kept him dwelling -- but not really living -- among the dead, was now to return to those with whom he'd probably not had a relationship for years, and tell them of God's power and love. Jesus then sailed away.

On the other shore, Jairus a leader in the synagogue, came to Jesus pleading for his daughter; she was on death's doorstep, and Jairus believed the healing touch of Jesus would bring life to her. Jesus agreed to go with this anguished father to his home. On the way, a lady who'd been sick for twelve years touched Jesus' clothing. Her faith drew such power and healing from Him, Jesus felt it drain from His body. "Who touched Me?' Jesus asked; the lady stepped forward and explained her boldness to Him -- a faith so strong it had healed her immediately. "Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace and be healed of your affliction."

To the woman who'd undoubtedly been outcast as well, Jesus said, "Be;" live a life that testifies to healing and peace. Know, embrace, exude healing from every pore -- that the world may know Who has done this for you, an outcast no more.

I'm sure Jairus counted the seconds as they ticked away; his daughter was dying, and time was of the essence. But before they turned to go, a messenger arrived: Jairus' young daughter was dead. What should have been the end of the story became an opportunity for Jesus to demonstrate not only His ability to restore life to the dead, but His desire to do so! Jesus accompanied Jairus to his house, and raised his daughter to life away from the eyes of the multitude who had followed them. The small group gathered in the home were "overcome with great amazement", and Jesus charged them that they should tell no one, but should give the little girl something to eat.

To the esteemed ruler in a synagogue, a leader among men, Jesus commanded service; to remain quiet about the miraculous events he'd witnessed and be the husband and father he needed to be; to minister to those closest and dearest him.

What is God calling you to this day? Shouting His goodness from the rooftops? Be-ing -- enjoying the life and health He has given you in such a way others are blessed or intrigued by your life? Or, quietly, humbly serving those within your own home? Seek Him, worship at His feet, and obey the calling He has for you.

Wednesday, May 9, 2018

Unconventional

Monday Scott and I celebrated our marriage. Ten years. Naturally, we have been thinking about the time that has passed, the many years (hopefully) yet to come, and how much we mean to one another. I have no doubt, Scott was a perfectly timed gift from my Heavenly Father.

Scott and I met at work. We talked from time to time, but the thing that precipitated our relationship, as in most, was discovering the things we had in common. We had both come out of pretty awful marriages, and our stories were similar. We both enjoyed being alone. We both had some terrible habits we knew needed breaking. We both had very unconventional ways of seeing life, and felt as though we were never quite comfortable doing things the way most people did them (probably due to an unrelenting refusal to listen to anything we were told). As I reflected on my life with Scott, it became obvious, "unconventional" is the overarching theme of our marriage.

 The day we married was a beautiful Spring day, pretty much like the one we're experiencing right now. We took a ride to Elkton, MD, checked in with the Justice of the Peace, said our "I do"s and headed straight to the tattoo parlor. Yeah. That was our wedding day. And it was perfect -- for us. It wasn't that we devalued our union in anyway -- in fact, it was so important, we did it the first available day we had. And tattoos weren't some cheap way of commemorating the day; they it (for he has the greater portion of the image and I have a small portion that completes it) was another way of linking us together.

And, this anniversary was spent planting and doing yard work together, making a midday run for urgent supplies: Wawa coffees and Burger King; and spending our evening on the deck enjoying the day's labors. It's not exactly what we would have liked, but given the circumstances, it was the perfect option for us.

It's that unconventional way of thinking and doing things that makes me certain our marriage was designed by God. I not only have the perfect partner in crime, but a unique way of thinking allows us to circumvent some of the difficulty life throws our way. After all, we have to endure it, but we don't have to succumb to it. A slightly twisted sense of humor makes the trip more fun, and a creative mind makes "impossible" things happen. Scott has been a living, breathing manifestation of God's love for me, His comfort and His encouragement. Scott is a conduit for the Spirit's boldness to do the difficult and atypical, and he has shown me that God designed me perfectly for the tasks He needs me to do -- no matter what others deem "normal". And God has used my husband to teach me how to accept help, how to be vulnerable and malleable, when the world is telling me "weak" women are less than.

So, regardless what the next ten years bring, I embrace our idiosyncrasies and offbeat way of using the time we've been given. And I hope you have or will find yourself a best friend interested in helping you become exactly all God has for you to be -- even if it means being a little unconventional.