Do You Know Where to Look?

When I was a kid I loved Highlights magazine. Sitting in the doctor's office pouring over the Hidden Pictures pages. There, in the midst of the forest was a baseball bat, an ice cream cone, a pipe, and a rocket ship. As I've gotten older, I've noticed the drawing has gotten much less professional or I've simply gotten more adept at finding the comb in blades of grass. Go, me! It's easy to find the stuff when you know where to look. But what happens when things aren't where they're supposed to be?

You see, I've been divorced --twice. Had cancer and regularly battle autoimmune junk. I've had my share of severed relationships, even with my own children. I've been so broke that dinner was a piece of bread with a couple spoonfuls of pickle relish. I've had to give up money, property, and my rights to being right just to keep my sanity. I've been physically and sexually abused. I've lost people that were so near and dear to me I believed that loss would be my breaking point. I don't even own a vehicle. I care for my mother who-- THANK GOD!-- can still walk and feed herself; everything else is on me. I've wanted to be "a famous author" since I was twelve --I write but I'm certainly not famous, and I've not made enough for a month's rent at the Dew Drop Inn, much less the thirty-acre cabin in the woods of which I dreamed. My one shot at an overseas vacation was derailed by COVID. 

However... There's been God. Always. 

Based on what I've just described, it might be easier to find the hat in a tree stump than find God in my life. And there were a lot of years He wasn't invited. But even when I pretended He wasn't there, even when I clearly didn't want Him there, He was waiting to be seen. 

My first divorce taught me I never want to be that terrible to any living soul ever again. The second taught me I should have listened to God --the real God-- instead of inventing my own. Sickness is part of being alive in this post-Eden world. My relationships are still a work in progress (aren't they all?) but now God holds my hand as we walk through them together. Broke is broke: being without money is like being without a lawnmower -- it's just a tool. Same thing with giving up stuff -- sanity is the endgame; besides, none of it belongs to me. The abuse is part of my story --always will be, but God says it's not the final chapter. Loss has not been a breaking point, but a turning point: I'm not the first one to grieve, but experiencing it equips me to pray for others who experience it, too. I've lost twenty-five pounds and gotten into killer shape just by walking more! Caring for Mom has been a summons to draw closer to Jesus, to seek Him all day throughout the day, and to watch Him reveal His plan in all of this. My dream hasn't died until I have. My overseas vacation was exchanged for the "nightmare on ice" which I haven't been able to explain --yet. (But I've got a pretty great story to tell!) 

In all these things, God has been with me, working, turning them around for my good. To have a front row seat to what He is doing is a privilege. He has been there in the quiet that follows the word "cancer", in the fear of starting over --alone, in the empty cupboard and in the courtroom and along the white hot sidewalk on the way to the deli. He is still there, weeping in the room where evil is done and childhoods are ended. He is in the hard days and the whys?. He is there, right where He is supposed to be.

I Thank My God When I Remember You

If you've existed on this big blue marble for longer than a minute or two, you've probably run into a special person. Whether it was that selfless woman who for months giggled excitedly at every move she felt you make, or the tender hero who gently cleaned you and warmed you moments after your startling relocation. Maybe you were blessed to be raised among a group of special people, people who loved and supported you all throughout your growing years, despite your tendency to sleep too late on weekends and use the last of the milk without adding it to the shopping list. Maybe you were blessed to find those folks outside the four walls of your home; maybe they were folks who, for no apparent reason, simply took a liking to you and wanted to be a part of your becoming the best human being you could be. Perhaps it's been those and many more throughout your lifetime. This world is full of siren songs tempting us to grow bitter and ungrateful, but if we take a moment to look past the surface dirt to the core of what brings us joy and hope and teaches us to love, we will find treasure in jars of clay.

I can't say if or how I have impacted the lives of those around me --I'm not sure any of us really knows the depth of our purpose while we're still actually trying to walk it out-- but I know there are people who have shown me tremendous kindnesses and those who have been used by God to demonstrate His love for me. There was the neighbor who prepared dinner for my family and I after my daughter was born. That single act of care still speaks to me the language of love. Years later, she came to my home at 2AM five days a week and watched my children while I worked. The selflessness of God was made manifest to me through her again and again.

The coworker who, despite working full-time, being the greatest granny that ever walked the face of the earth, and putting up with my husband's special kind of crazy, made it her mission to give those she loved whatever she could afford. Despite her own failing health, I watched this woman devise and construct a multitude of "helps" to assist her husband in navigating life despite a condition that was robbing him of mobility daily. Despite her demands to be left alone, she crafted favors for parties (for which she did not wish to be compensated, nor to which she was invited) just to do something nice for someone. Despite her rock hard exterior, she'd spend her last dime on a gift of beauty and song to encourage my husband and I to never forget her. (As though we ever could.) A more beautiful picture of Jesus will never grace the walls of any cathedral.

The character of God can be found in this world and its inhabitants if we are simply willing to look and to understand what it is we are seeing. I heard two old men at the market the other day, both with different perspectives. One bemoaned the state of things as they are today. The other simply reassured him, "There's plenty of good out there --just that the good stuff never makes the news. Stop watchin' the news and tell me what you see." And he's absolutely right. When we see "the good stuff," we have to be aware we are witnessing one of the very attributes of God. Focusing on that goodness (or the Godlike-ness) in others can be the beginning of worship. Finding the light in the darkness can be the beginning of discovering light's very Origin. Being grateful for those who share this place with us can be the beginning of a relationship with the One who deserves our thanks.

(Photo courtesy of LuAnn Martin)