whispering hope

All I want to do is write a fun, light-hearted post, but I can't ignore the fact that my dad has terminal cancer, and that it has so greatly impacted our lives over the past two weeks. Try as I may, it cannot be ignored.

Our trip to Minnesota was one of the most difficult weeks of my life. Although we went to support and help my family in any and every way possible (and hopefully achieved that goal), the majority of the time we spent there I felt numb and helpless. I could not cry in the presence of my dad. Either that or I just refused. I did not want him to see my fear, nor cause him to focus any more on the negative. All of this has been so very hard for us as it is.

We spent most of our time at the hospital, but rented a room at the Super 8 to provide the opportunity to get away and re-group at the end of each day. This proved to be a good choice. We think our rental car may have worn a permanent trail on the road leading from the motel to the hospital. Back and forth. Get up early, stay up late. Run, run, run! Go, Jane, go!

Let me take a moment to just say how amazing my husband has been through all of this. Last week my dad repeatedly referred to Jeromy as a "tower of strength". Once we heard that my dad would not be returning to work, Jeromy volunteered to help look into early retirement. We quickly realized how unprepared my parents were for any event remotely of this size and that this would become more of a project than we bargained for. Still, Jeromy worked tirelessly to get everything sorted out and set up. We are back in Maryland and STILL working on the financial situation. (SO overwhelming.) I am extremely grateful for such a supportive, compassionate, and resourceful man who is willing to take on a load such as this for his father-in-law. He allowed me to spend much needed time just sitting with my dad while he ran ragged collecting a million official documents and applying my dad to every single available service. He is, indeed, a tower of strength.

It was absolutely fantastic to see familiar faces appear now and again at the door of my dad's room. Besides his immediate family, my dad had at least two or three different visitors every single day! Some of whom I hadn't seen in quite some time! It was nice to not have to drive all over the state to see so many family and friends, as is normally the case when we come to visit. This time everyone drove to see us! If there was one, the visitors were probably the highlight of the trip. As each visitor turned to leave I tried to stress how much of an encouragement it was for them to come, and to make sure they understood the seriousness of my dad's condition. Without being specific I was hoping they would consider paying another visit in the near future, whether in the hospital or elsewhere. To continue the support they have so far personally and publicly given. He needs it. I would be there if I could.

Probably the most difficult moment was seeing my dad for the first time. He used to be ripped. Every single day of his post-Navy existence, he has done his push-ups. He might have missed a day here and there due to an occasional case of the flu, but my dad's faithful morning push-up routine could squash the best of the best! Seeing my dad in the hospital, though, I could tell his push-ups have long since taken a sabbatical. In fact, he told us that he hasn't exercised in over two months! That should have been a sure sign something was up, although he didn't get checked out until weeks later. It was absolutely horrible to see my dad looking the way he did, especially that first night. He has lost literally every ounce of his muscle, and his skin looked like his mother's (my grandmother's) skin well into her 80's. The person I saw in that hospital bed was not my dad, but reality has it that it was and is.

The short of my dad's prognosis is that cancer will take his life. The doctors were quite clear that he has advanced stage 4 colon cancer, and because it has already devoured 3/4 of his liver and has spread to even other organs, no amount of drug therapy can cure this monster. My dad will receive what they call "palliative" care, which will involve chemo to hopefully stop future spread of the cancer cells, and even possibly shrink some of what is already there. Basically a life-prolonging method.

According to the doctors, my dad has 6-8 months to live if he decides against chemo treatment. With chemo, however, and depending on how his system responds to the drug, he could potentially live another 2-3 years. Either way, the news is hard to take.

I realize God still works miracles, and I believe that He has both power and ability to heal my dad completely, but I also know that He most often does not work beyond or in spite of natural processes. I believe God could very well prolong my dad's life beyond what the doctors project. Yet, if God were to completely heal my dad this side of heaven, there are many intricate smaller miracles that would need to transpire within the bigger one for that to happen.

For instance, the major surgery my dad underwent just before our arrival forced the surgeon to remove 9 out of 20 feet of his colon for the reason that the blockage of perhaps 6 or more months had built up an unbelievable pressure and had caused the colon to literally burst open on the operating table. Yeah. Not pretty. It's not like he can grow back 9 feet of colon! Also, the fact that the cancer is already stage 4 (the highest stage and the fastest spreading) implies "point of no return". A body can safely live on 1/4 of a liver, but it is difficult for me to believe that can last for very long without complications.

Another huge hurdle my dad needs to overcome (and before any of this chemo can start) is recovering from surgery itself. He needs to be at least a good 6-7 weeks completely recovered before his blood cells and immune system can take another harsh blow. As it is, my dad was in the hospital for 2 full weeks, and just yesterday he needed a blood transfusion. They finally discharged him, though because of recent infection his wounds have not yet healed. Also, there are still huge amounts of swelling, and he has yet to regain some sort of appetite. Since the surgery, he has been forcing food down his throat, so that it takes him nearly an hour to finish a meal instead of the typical 5 or so minutes it used to take him to polish off a couple good helpings. So he has a long way to go.

All this to say he should have been out of the hospital a week ago, but for these hinderances . And by "out of the hospital" I don't mean "at home". The next stepping stone for my dad is a Transitional Care Unit (TCU). This is basically a rehab facility where he will continue physical therapy and also begin occupational therapy, until he is strong enough and capable of living at home and caring for his wounds and ostomy bags. (There are two bags, due to the discarded portion of the colon.) My parents have already chosen a TCU, one that is within walking distance for my mom. In fact, he was just transfered there this afternoon. Part of the facility is a nursing home, but we are trying to steer everyone away from using that term so my dad doesn't get the feeling we are putting him "out to pasture". That's just the way these places opperate. Most serve several purposes. But yes, old fogies also live there. And regardless, this is a temporary situation. Yet, it is only after my dad serves adequate time at the TCU can anyone even begin to think about chemo. Long, long road.

There are so many questions our human hearts beg to ask:

*Why did my dad endure 6 whole months of nasty symptoms before even considering getting checked out?
*And, with the unbelievably steep health insurance premium he was paying every month, why did he never pursue regular physicals?
*Why did he refuse long and short-term disability through his company?
*Why don't my parents have life insurance?
*Why has my dad always chosen to remedy the immediate need instead of looking to the future?
*Why didn't he look into VA benefits from the start?
*Why did he allow a lay-off from a job he was good at to force him into a trucking job with erratic, unhealthy hours?

But we really can't ask, and when it comes down to it, we really don't want to. The worst thing we could do is to resent my dad for causing this mess. What good would that do? Sure, there are some better choices he could have made in his life, but he only did what he thought was best at the time. He is not perfect, and I cannot say I would have done any better! The truth is that cancer is part of my dad's life, and we can only look to today and pray for tomorrow.

(However, what I will say in light of the above questions is that we certainly learned a BIG lesson with regard to planning for the future! DO IT!)

Of course, my dad's life is in God's hands, no matter how you look at it. His days have been numbered since Eternity past, as with each of us. Cancer is God's will for my dad, whether he had caught it a year or two earlier, or whether he had delayed getting checked out even longer, in which case his colon could had exploded internally and left him to die on the spot.

It is what it is and we can only look forward with hope. The assuring, redeeming kind of hope.

More than our concern for my dad's physical condition is our concern for his spiritual. You spend one minute with the man and you can see depression all over his face. And for good reason. He is dealing with major change in his life. However, he did seem to perk up whenever anyone would stop by. But he won't read, including the Word, and that is troubling to me. I just hope some person will come alongside him and mentor him through this. Point him repeatedly back to Christ. That is his most pressing need right now. It is hard to believe that a man so extremely intelligent in matters of theology as he, can allow this trial, painful and scary as it may be, to get him this down. He is a child of the King, after all! In fact, while looking for certain documents at the house, we ran across his college doctrine notes from the 1970's, and I'm talking whole drawers full! This is his time to finally learn to live out the theology he claims to know. What good is knowledge unless it is useful?

Whatever we believe about God's will, we know that this path is chosen for us. We must take it because going back is not an option. This time in my family's life is designed to bring us closer to Him and to give us new ways in which to serve as God's "hands and feet". My dad's old college roommate offered my dad a wonderful statement while stopping in for a visit last week. He said, "Gary, this cancer is not all about you. This cancer is certainly an opportunity for God to extend His grace to you, but this cancer is also for you to allow that grace to flow to others by the testimony of your faith, both to Christians and non-Christians, to family, friends, nurses, doctors, and to those you have yet to meet."

And so it is with me and everyone else remotely touched my dad's cancer. I know that this is his fight of faith, but I wish I could help him believe that all this is for God's glory, and that he shouldn't waste this opportunity to live out God's grace. These are tough issues, and I struggle daily with them myself. I just hope he "gets" this message, and sooner rather than later.

Right now my dad is operating on empty. We keep trying to encourage him and bring Water to his dry Spirit, but what he does with all of that is solely up to him. We can't make him read his Bible, pray, or meditate on spiritual truths. All I know is that if my dad can firmly grasp these concepts, there is great potential for the next few days, weeks, months, and hopefully years to becoming the very best of his life and his closest walk with the Lord. THIS is the kind of miracle I am hoping and praying for!!!

Chemo or not, we trust in Christ! He is the hope of our salvation and our Rock!

"Now I know that the Lord saves his anointed; he will answer him from his holy heaven with the saving might of his right hand. Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God. They collapse and fall, but we rise and stand upright. O Lord, save the king! May he answer us when we call" (Psalm 20:6-9).

*****

For anyone who would like to send my dad a note, below is the address. Also, if you are ever in the neighborhood, my dad would love a visit. He is currently staying at St. Louis Park Plaza. I've also listed that address below.

Gary Nelson
3341 Zinran Avenue South
St. Louis Park, MN 55426

St. Louis Park Plaza
3201 Virginia Ave S
Minneapolis, MN 55426
(952) 935-0333

praying for you

I often have a hard time coming up with the right words to encourage someone who is hurting. I feel my words are never meaningful enough, or that they sound cliche, and I always want to do so much more than offer my love and prayer. I wish I could say I've "been there", that I know what they are going through, but I really can't because everyone's pain is entirely different. So I normally just feel at a loss.

Well, just I learned for the first time in my life that all those words I have spoken to many individuals over the years really have mattered. I now know without a doubt that they were heard and that they made more of a difference in those people's lives than I ever would have guessed.

The words of support and encouragement I have received over the last few days have been priceless. I'm sure many who heard about my dad feel the same as I, that their words are meager and trite, and lost among similar sentiments of others. If that is true of anyone, they couldn't be more wrong. Every single word offered has touched me both deeply and uniquely. To know that prayers are being lifted for my family in places all across the country (from Colorado, to Maryland, to Florida, to Hawaii!!!) has in itself sustained me. Words like "praying for you" might sound repetitive (as I've often thought, having numerously used that phrase) but I tell you, each word renews my hope and reminds me of God's mercy. You all remind me that my family is far from alone in this and that the Body still comes through for its weakened, ailing limb.

I will no longer feel discouraged the next time all I can think of to say is "I am sorry. I will pray for you. I am here for you." These are the words our human hearts really need to hear the most. I am grateful for everyone who has reached out to us in this way, both those who have voiced their support and those who simply and quietly pray. God will continue to use both to get us through this time.

I do not know what the week in Minnesota will look like. I wish this could be a pleasure trip, especially since I only get out there once or twice a year. But this trip is not for me. I know that my dad needs people around him as much as possible to keep his spirits up and to offer encouragement that he can draw from on occasions when he is left alone to his thoughts. He is still very down, often wondering what the future will hold. And that is very natural, yet everyone is trying to get him to focus on today and not tomorrow. We all need to live this way, and hopefully he will begin to understand that. We can't skirt the circumstances or pretend the cancer doesn't exist, but we can at least continue to point him to his hope in Christ.

We would like to get John Piper's "The Blazing Center" DVD series to hopefully foster the eternal perspective he so desperately needs. I know that "stuff" we give him won't heal his body. All we can do is encourage him with hope in Christ.

Today I talked to my dad on the phone for the first time since he went into the hospital. The phone is difficult for me. I didn't know what to say, and I heard myself saying, "uh-huh" a lot. He didn't talk much either. He definitely sounded weak and almost delirious. I could tell he is still in shock over the whole thing. I really didn't want to talk to him over the phone. It's just not the same as being there, especially since I knew I would freeze up like I did. But my mom asked if I wanted to talk to him while she was next to him so I had no choice. "Do you want to talk to your dad? Huh???" What was I supposed to say? No?

I have been an emotional roller coaster over the last 48 hours. I have to tell myself not to think about my dad all the time or I wouldn't be able to function. On the other hand, I don't want to go about life as though nothing is happening. I'm just torn, and every other minute my frame of mine is different. I realize that I need to keep on living, just like my dad needs to, but it's not easy to do both. At times I don't feel I have the right to laugh, or watch a fun movie, or eat a yummy dessert. I'm not supposed to be doing those things - my dad is sick! And yet I know I it is probably the best thing for me to especially enjoy these things because I have to live with hope too. I can't tell my dad to do one thing and than I do another. I can't take his pain for him by living in doom and gloom. I need to set the example.

But...but...but...regardless of any encouragement we give him, reality continues to stand that my father has terminal cancer. What does one DO with that??????

Dad Update

Thank you all for the prayer support. It is invaluable to us.

The doctors performed surgery on my dad yesterday. His colon burst once they opened him up, due to the tumor blockage and unbelievable pressure, so the doctors had to create not one, but two colostomies, one on each side of his stomach. The cancer is too severe in both his colon and liver and it is too late to remove. He will most likely go through chemo and/or radiation to prolong his life.

My father has always been one to avoid going to the doctor because he either thought whatever he was feeling would "go away" or he was afraid of what they would find. Well here we go. The good news (if there is any) is that, should he have gone in 6 months earlier when the abdominal pain first started, the cancer may have still been almost as severe. In fact, they say he may have had it for two whole years and never knew it! My brother likened colon cancer to a "thief in the night" that forms without much symptom at first. Of course, had my dad received regular physicals, they may have caught it before it became of too much. But we can't look back in regret because he is at this point, and we can't change that.

My dad is very discouraged right now. He thought he was just going to get a colonoscopy a couple days ago to test for thyroid issues and be on his way, and now his life is changed forever. Doctors say that if he hadn't come in he wouldn't have lasted until next Christmas. So that's another praise, I guess. I need to keep that perspective.

This man has already had a rough life, and I just hate to see him go through even more. He is 64 and was planning on retiring in October, but I guess this will push things up a bit. He has always been anxious about money, and has already been voicing concern about paying for the medical bills. Please pray that my dad would just concentrate on living, and trust God to take care of everything else. He needs peace right now. He doesn't need to be dwelling on negative thoughts.

Pray for the rest of my family also, especially my mom. This will be a new life for them and everyone is still in shock. It is crazy how life can throw a curve just like that. Yet this didn't surprise God, and my prayer is that all this will strengthen their faith, and mine.

Jeromy and I leave for Minnesota Monday morning, for a week. I didn't want to use accrued leave time because we had also recently purchased airfare to spend a week in Minnesota at the end of May. Go figure. I do have 3 personal days in addition to annual leave, and I am also allowed leave without pay, and will use both. This will also allow us to keep our plans to go back in May. Time will tell how things will be by then. Hopefully better, in spite of everything.

Pray for God to sustain us during this visit, and that we will have the right words to say and the strength to help out wherever needed.



Above: Dad reading one of my favorite Golden Books!
Below: My wedding! (My brother Justin, dad Gary, & mom Linda Nelson with the love birds)

Blessed be the name of the Lord

My dad has cancer.

Coke and not water

People are funny. Funny things happen. I like funny stories, especially if they are real. This is one of them.

Not too long into the beginning of our relationship, Jeromy and I visited a quaint little Vietnamese restaurant in our little (minus the quaint) county. I really wasn't a fan of Asian food until I met Jeromy. I can seriously count on one hand the number of times I had ever eaten at an Asian restaurant B.J. (Before Jeromy). And La Choy chow mein doesn't count. My mom made me eat it. I highly dislike water chestnuts.

Once Jeromy and I started dating I quickly developed a taste for Asian food, and now we regularly make dishes like Thai curry chicken and other types of stir fly. (If only we had registered for that wok at BB&B!) Thai is our favorite, bar none. Jeromy is the curry freak. I'll eat it, but the fish sauce gives me horrible nausea. I'm a less traditional Asian food lover. I won't get anywhere near menu items that include duck, rabbit, sushi, or squid. I always make sure they leave the onions off my Pad Thai (I enjoy water chestnuts better than onions...texture, texture!). Regardless, Jeromy is a well-rounded fellow when it comes to international cuisine, and it has since rubbed off on me. Although, he can keep his predilection for Indian food! He will have to work on me a little longer for that one.

Upon arriving at the Hot Noodle, the hostess proceeded to seat us in their signature high-backed booths (go privacy!), and we began to scour the menu for something to drink. Normally Jeromy and I order water whenever we eat out, just because it saves on both the bill and tip, and besides that the natural thirst quencher always wins over less healthy varieties like pop (yes, I'm from the Midwest, but West Virginians also say pop, so I learned from marrying one!), which we rarely consume.

This particular evening, however, Jeromy couldn't resist the option of ordering a tall glass of coconut water. The Vietnamese place serves it with actual chunks/shavings of coconut floating in the beverage. I tried it and it's pretty good, though not very sweet. We decided on drinks and waited for our server, setting in for a romantic evening of looking longingly into each other's eyes (oh, the days before sitting on the same side of the booth!).

Our server never came.

Now, there are two kinds of servers in this world (rarely have we encounter a balanced exception): "Annoying Little Sister", the stops-by-your-table-and-asks-how-you're-doing-every-30-seconds server, who asks how the food tastes before you have time to take a single bite. And then we have "Houdini", the-takes-your-order-and-disappears-into-the-night (or falls into a boiling vat of "Tom Ka Gai") server, who brings your food and bill at the same time. Well, that night we endured a big bag of tricks from the latter.

Moments before severe dehydration set in, we managed to flag Mr. Houdini to our table. (He finally noticed our cartwheels and jumping jacks from the other side of the room.) Although barely able to talk due to his poor parched throat, Jeromy managed to request his favorite beverage.

We enjoyed a few more minutes of beautiful company, complete with much under the table hand-holding.

Miracle of miracles, Houdini was back in a flash, holding up a tall, refreshing glass of....Coke?

"No, no...I'm sorry, " Jeromy tried to be polite. "I actually asked for coconut water."

"Oooooh. Ok! Be back." Even Houdini fails once in a while.

*Resume more googly-eye hand-holding.*

Houdini returned. And you wouldn't believe it, holding another glass of Coke! But...without ice.

We looked at each other in confusion. What was up with this guy? They must receive orders for dozens of glasses of coconut water every day.

"Uh, sir, I wanted COCONUT water." Jeromy tried a third time. "Cooooconu-----waaaaait a minute. No, no, no, I DON'T want Coc-a-cola with or without ice. I want co-co-nut wa-ter."

So that was it! Houdini thought Jeromy wanted Coke, and then he thought the "not water" part meant no ice! Coke and not water!

Jeromy finally received the real coconut water as requested, but we are still scratching our heads trying to figure out how a server at an Asian restaurant could mistake "coke and not water" for the novel coconut water! The events of this dinner date has since turned into a running joke between us, especially the few times Jeromy actually does order a Coke -- and not water!

sugar and spice and everything nice

Yesterday we had a young friend visit us for dinner. (Which means all that homemade pizza is long gone!) Jeromy met Chris about 3 years ago while Chris worked at the Coffee Quarter (the place Jeromy and I met). They started having spiritual conversations, and on occasion Chris would meet with Jeromy for a sort of Bible study. Since then, our contact with Chris has been random (this is a SMALL county; it's likely to run into everybody we know at some place or other at least once a year). He's a great young man, very polite, but also very secular. We don't have people in our home terribly often, and since pizza is a pretty universal favorite food, we thought we would ask him over.

We had a fun night of visiting. Ate too much, looked on www.somd.com for a table and chair set for Chris, and listened to a little Derek Webb. (We had been talking about the campaign year, and wanted Chris to listen to "Savior on Capitol Hill" for kicks. Complete satire, but so true.) Then I used our guest as an excuse to break out the brownie mix. (But really, who needs an excuse for that?!) and we ate....some more. I had been trying out different from-scratch brownie recipes I found on www.allrecipes.com but haven't found the winner yet. In the meantime, the box mix never lets me down.

Jeromy and I have a few friends here in Southern Maryland, but to be honest, not that many. And it seems they are all guys. You got Chris, Joe, and Mark. We really don't hang out with too many other people, outside of church (and we have found true fellowship doesn't actually happen at church...but that's a topic for another blog). Let me emphasize that I am so grateful for the friends God has given us, and the opportunities we have had to share experiences and talk about our faith. What I am missing is girl talk.

Jeromy and I used to be a part of a young adult Sunday School class, which consisted of mainly married couples, and about 3/4 of them with children. Some were our age and some were older. Over the last quarter we switched to a different Sunday School because we felt we weren't getting to know other people in the church. All the other classes scrambled the groups every couple months or so, and we felt there were so many faces that we recognized, but individuals we didn't know much about.

So we switched. A part of me missed the old group because they were our peers or close to it, but the other part of me enjoyed learning about this new group, at least as deep as we could one hour once a week (again, another blog!). Now we are at the end of another Sunday School quarter, and Jeromy and I will most likely go back to the young couples class.

There are a few girls in the group who I could get together with, but the events I seem to plan (and I make sure to give a lot of notice!) rarely provide a good turnout. Maybe people like more spontaneity, I don't know. But the point is, I struggle with getting together with my female peers for anything. It seems like people don't want to add anything extra to weekday evenings. I can empathize with that, just because we go to bed so early (we stink, yeah). But it seems that the guys we hang out with more readily agree to come by for a visit, or to meet somewhere for coffee or whatever. Maybe it is because those guys are single...I dunno.

There are a few ladies Bible studies organized by our church, but they are mid-morning on a weekday. And even then, those who attend those studies are SAHMs or older ladies. I do desire spending time with women older than me because they have a wealth of wisdom to draw from. But I also need that "same boat" type connection with someone my age and who can relate to my stage in life. It's just been hard to find that.

Sometimes it's difficult to go on Facebook and see all my friends from college. I realize many of them may be facing a similar dry spell. When I go on there I catch a glimpse of what used to be and it feels like we are all together again, even though we're not. It makes me wish we all lived close by because we would never lack for people to get together with. But they live THERE. I live here. Facebook is an amazing tool for keeping in touch with family and friends, but I will never "do life" with those people. Only those in my Southern Maryland sphere.

Which makes me think about the singles group at our church. They are ALWAYS participating in some activity or another. So is that what this is? Is this something that happens when one goes from being single to being married? Are married people less likely to hang out with other couples because of responsibilities they have now but didn't have while single? If that is true, I don't like it. Maybe I have to accept it but I feel like it shouldn't HAVE to be this way. We all need relationships with others outside our families at every place in life. But how will that realistically happen, now that I am married?

Maybe this is just a season in my life where I have to learn to be content without much girl-to-girl interaction. I'll keep trying, though. Maybe it's just a matter of timing.

Red Light, Green Light

On the way home from work the other night, a movement just up ahead in the sky caught my attention A massive flock of starlings were stretched across what seemed like the entire sky, fluttering like a giant ribbon. Whether just beginning their annual journey South or continuing on, their goal was unmistakable. From what I’ve noticed, Southern Maryland fowl tend to receive the “moving day memo” much later than those in my home state of Minnesota, the latter varieties mostly long past the mason-dixon line by the beginning of November. Here in the mid-Atlantic, the migration seems to occur in spurts over a period of months. Just when you think all those loud Canadian geese have left the premises, you are rudely awakened early one Saturday morning to a chorus of out of tune, insensitive shrieking. Who needs the annoying neighbor?

This particular late afternoon I found the birds fascinating. Their ability to swiftly and efficiently maneuver about the open sky seemed a slap in the face to us road-raging, vehicular commuters. No stop light, blinker, or speed limit necessary. Instinct would keep them safe to their destination, even taking weather conditions into account better than we! Where they thrive, we make a mess. Oh to exist as perfectly in accordance with the Creator as these feathered creatures!

Such sightings as these always leave me in wonder. I could just barely make out the head of the flock many miles beyond my little Alero, but the trail seemed to infinitely flow into the distance, the end nowhere in sight. There were just SO many birds! Usually I see the typical dozen or so flying off in that signature “greater than” sign, so to observe thousands upon thousands of little starlings all at once was nothing short of breathtaking. This was one of those “God sightings” that leave your jaw hanging and you mind swimming with “how” questions.

Moments like these can sure bring a gloriously fresh sense of perspective! So then why do I so often over look them? I'll tell you why. My typical day is filled to the brim with chore and duty and self-groping. I spend most of it in a tunnel; in my little world. And most people do. Therefore, it is extremely refreshing to occasionally notice something so outside and beyond myself where, in an instant, I lose my bitter attitude and even possibly bid farewell to a pity party. (The food and music are never good at those anyway.) At times these instances come in the form of majestic creation, such as our migration phenomenon. Other times they appear as a deep red-orange sunrise, or as the refreshingly crisp scent of Fall, or as a myriad of sparkling tree branches the morning after a vigorous ice storm.

Nature seems to have a way; or rather, God tends to use nature in such a way that seems to brings Himself into the sphere of our senses. These things remind us Whose world this is. These things cause us to realize our appointed stewardship to both care for and appreciate this world, the desired outcome being His greatness and our delight springing from our hearts. Perspective, indeed. Most of the time my world is so small that I am the only one who fits into it. And even when God catches my attention, such as in the form of a rainbow, a juicy orange, or the beautiful face of my husband, the moment flees before I consciously capture it and make something more of it, before I can make it linger, before I fully embrace the GOD of all things glorious.

Yet God continues to display His greatness to us in these ways, whether we take hold of them or not. I think perhaps the reason these moments seem to occur most often on the road is simply for the lack of distraction. It is just the wheels and the driver, and often a few Christian radio tunes, which tend to steer my thoughts heavenward anyway (no pun intended). This is a time when I absolutely cannot do anything else but think, within the realm of highway vigilance, of course!

It’s funny how I am thinking about all of these things, and this very morning on the way to work the Christian radio host asked listeners to call in and tell about an extraordinary God-experience within their ordinary life. I had just flipped on the radio while they were in midst of this discussion. Coincidence? I don’t think so. The man on the phone described an instance where, over the Christmas holiday, he was to meet his family at a famous live nativity display in Pennsylvania. For some reason he faced a few obstacles earlier in the day so that he thought he for sure would not make it all the way across the state in time to be with his family. He began to drive anyway. About halfway there he noticed that he was hitting all the green lights which, in his experience, rarely happens. He usually catches all the red lights. (Boy, can I sympathize!) The caller’s point was that God’s grace allowed him to make it to the display in time to share the special evening with his family. “God was in the green lights!” And I would agree with that, as God is certainly just as sovereign over details as He is over major events. I would even say that God's presence goes way too often unnoticed in these cheery moments.

I love it, though, what the radio host stated in response. “And we have to remember that God is also in the red lights.” Oh how we despise those red lights! I tend to break out in hives at red lights. And it seems there is always some 18-wheeler or school bus in the front of the line, making it impossible to get a quick “pick up” once the light finally turns. Red lights force me to slow down and even have the nerve to force me to stop! Why I never take red lights into account when I plan my day is beyond me. Why wouldn’t I expect them? Why do I sulk when it takes me a measly five extra minutes to get into work? Red lights are a part of life.

The truth is that most of us see red more than green. In every aspect. We face the difficult way more than the easy. What is easy, is for me to think God is not in those red lights. I would rather He not be. I would rather not view God as Someone who sovereignty places obstacle and discomfort into our lives and messes up our perfectly efficient schedules. But I’ll say most of the time that is the only way He can flag us down long enough to get across our numb skulls, “Hellllllooooo! Who’s in control here?!” My guess is that He probably enjoys using sunsets and flowers to get our attention more often than broken bones and traffic jams, green lights more than red. And yet, he is still in all of it.

Lately, when God reveals His greatness in the form of gorgeous displays, such as he did the other days with the birds, I have been prompted to pray for those around me who might be seeing the same thing. I pray that those who do not know God will see Him here, in this thing. Whether in the bright sunshine of a pleasant day, or in the striking contrast of a looming storm cloud, I figure these moments are not for my benefit only. I am also beginning to do the same thing whenever I see a car accident scene, or hear an ambulance siren from my apartment. I pray that others will see God and His grace in those situations as well, whatever the outcome.

But honestly, I need more prayer for myself than I pray for everybody else! I miss so very many green and red light moments that I don’t allow God to show up in my life nearly as much as I need Him to. Why does it have to take a big display of some sort for me to know He is there and that He is working? Why does my response to God depend on whether or not the outcome seems favorable to me? Why do I consistently resist red lights in my life and embrace only green ones, if I embrace them at all?

Sometimes I believe that if I didn’t have to work so much, or that if my commute to work were shorter, or if I weren’t so tired, or if life weren’t so stinking hard I would be able to nurture a closer relationship with God and let Him work in my life. I wish for some sort of Eden or something. While I definitely won’t find that here in this flesh, I have to remember that I can at least catch glimpses of it in the green lights and savor those moments. And in red lights I can hold on and drink fully of the reality that these moments prepare me for Eden.

Perhaps the green lights are meant to grant us hope for the red, as reminders that another green light is not too far off. After all, every red light eventually turns green.

Something to Look Forward to

What keeps you going?

I have found that if I have something in the future to anticipate, the daily grind isn't so bad. All I need is a countdown of days, and I can make it. Whether it's a concert, road trip, day off of work, or just a coffee date with my husband, I'm almost always looking ahead to something. Even if the day is months away, the prospect of something fun or meaningful to look forward to helps me stay focused on the moments at hand. Which, actually sounds weird because one would think the anticipation of something would lead to distraction. Yet, that is how it is for me.

However, as much as I would not like to admit it, it seems it is the anticipation, more than the occasion or event itself, which brings the most joy. I have always wished it were the other way around, that the actual event or occasion anticipated would surpass the anticipation, but that seems to rarely happen. I have come to wonder if maybe that is because the anticipation is meant as an analogy of something spiritual. Our longing for heaven, perhaps?

Maybe God does not want us to find our satisfaction here, for these short 80 years. Maybe we try to. Our finite minds cannot fathom the joy of Eternity. As our hearts remain always waiting and hoping for something better, always something more spectacular around the next corner (and mine always does), we find only continued anticipation, conscious or not, for the ultimate culmination of joy found only in and with God Himself. And that continued anticipation can be easily mistaken for disappointment when, really, it ought to urge us to praise God for not allowing things of this world to satiate us like only God can.

Maybe that's why the days leading up to December 25th are always brimming with excitement as we think about how perfect everything is going to be, but then when Christmas Day rolls around we usually experience little more than wrapping paper messes; stomachaches; possible extended family quarrels; and, despite myriads of gifts received, emptiness in our hearts. 'Did we miss the point?' we ask ourselves. 'Did we forget about some meaningful tradition? Did we forget to light the candles? What happened?' Yes, culture and the world can steal our hearts away from the humble approach Mary and Joseph took to celebrate the birth of the Messiah so that we do miss the point. (Although, I don’t recommend sitting down to Christmas dinner in a barn!) Amidst all our planning for perfection, we sometimes forget that we live in a very imperfect world, and our minds often paint unrealistic pictures of life.

Yet at the same time, there is something to be said about the joy of anticipation, even on occasions when our hearts are indeed right (and, in the event of Christmas, commercialism doesn’t get the best of us). The fact is, this is not home. We really are pilgrims. No holiday, birthday bash, or ski trip could ever top what is in store for the believer! There will come a time when we will experience perfection, but that will never be here!

Knowing we are made for a far better place and a heart that is fully healed, does this then mean we should cease to enjoy life as we know it? Should we just lie down and silently wait with inactivity for our redemption? Well, is that what we do between Thanksgiving and Christmas? No, preparations are made to build the excitement! The tree gets trimmed, the presents wrapped, and the cards sent. Why should we act any differently during this time of eternal expectation? This journey is part of the joy we await!

For that matter, what does an engaged couple spend time doing before their union? Take my wedding as an example. One of my favorite seasons of expectancy took place the first weeks following our engagement. How much fun it was to check out a dozen wedding books and magazines from the library, and to sit for hours in a Barnes & Noble, snapping countless pictures of cute flower and table arrangements from decorating books with my camera phone. How exciting it was to choose colors, scribble up guest lists, and wade through beautiful music arrangements! It starts once the ring is on her finger, or at least that moment in the dressing room at the bridal shop when she tries on that first dress. The possibilities are endless, and immediately she begins to imagine walking down the isle. Time and time again she pictures the face of her groom grinning broadly from the front of the church. A bride-to be’s mind is constantly preoccupied with visions of the actual wedding day, when all the preparations, plans, and dreams finally come together.

The day finally comes and it is exquisitely wonderful and breathtaking, just like she imagined….almost. And yet that “almost” takes absolutely nothing away from the beauty and perfection of the day, however it happens to go down. The sweet anticipation was actually part of the wedding day. For that matter, the entire package: meeting, first date, first kiss, every subsequent date, engagement, wedding planning (although most of it, tedious and stressful!); and the dreaming, hoping, wishing, thinking, pursuing, creating, loving – all of it – as well as the dress, pictures, processional, vows, pronouncement, and honeymoon. Nothing is exclusive and all of it contains the joy of anticipation.

It has been more than a year after my own wedding, and the anticipation still remains. Every day is new and full of expectation. Life keeps going, we keep growing and moving on to our destination: Eternity. It only makes sense that we keep waiting for something greater to come along because there is something greater. It hasn’t come yet because we are still wearing this flesh and walking this dirt. The anticipation we experience in this life provides us with glimpses of that day when we finally get to see the entire picture, see all of it come together and know that there was no flaw in the design.

I can’t wait to see through God’s lens and finally learn the answers to all of my questions. But I don’t want those questions to keep me from exercising faith in what He has already said. Thankfully, God is with us now and has given us the lens of Scripture by which to view this world. And yet gaining (and keeping) the confidence that God is working things out, and that His justice and compassion somehow mesh, plainly takes some hard faith. It can be difficult to accept that God actually receives glory for what happens on this Earth. We hear more bad news than good. But there would be no need for redemption if this world were ideal and whole. I think the times we see God’s glory the most is when He applies healing to something that is broken. And boy, are we broken! Sin has made a mess, and God wants us to witness and enjoy His glory as he redeems his people back to Himself! All the hopelessness, fear, catastrophe, and bitterness remains because there is still more to the story! But we aren’t writing it! For now our “God-vision” is limited. That, however, should leave us clawing for something more. More of Him. One day all anticipation will finally cease, and we will not be disappointed nor left to crave anything else.

I don’t know what that will be like, because I am constantly empty, I am daily searching for something to fill me. Some moments are better than others, moments in which I choose to live in the hope of eternally basking in the glory of God. On those days I am not as easily frustrated and set-off. And even when life doesn’t slow down, I allow my heart to still long enough to see God at work around me. I begin to discover reasons for which to be grateful.

Other days, I would rather settle for basking in the earthly, the temporary. I allow people to name me. My schedule overtakes and consumes me. I grasp at books, projects, food, music, sleep, working out, to find happiness and purpose. To try to gain some sort of control. And I express a skewed understanding of God, which, in reality, fosters these results.

The anticipation is good. Very good. The object of the anticipation, though, is what is important. In His wisdom, God intended us to receive more joy when we honor the Giver over the gift because there is no glory in the gift all by itself. I know I am more grateful for the time, expense, and energy it takes a special person to make me a cake than I am for the actual cake, tasty as it may be. My guess is that anticipation on this earth is meant to leave us empty but also to bring a spark of hope so that our ultimate longing and satisfaction would rest in the glory of God alone.

The Giver is the gift; the gift is the Giver! What can top that!

Stupid is as stupid does!

What is the most stupid thing you have ever done? I mean embarrassingly foolish and idiotic? My husband mentioned such an instance in his life which happened just last week. Sitting in a conference room at work, he waited for a scheduled meeting to start. He noticed that everyone had arrived…except a co-worker named Kevin, though characterized as routinely late, even forgetful regarding meetings.

Just as they were about to begin, Jeromy spoke up, "Wait, we can't start yet. Kevin's not here." And wouldn't you know, there was Kevin, sitting directly across the table from Jeromy. After everyone had a good chuckle, Kevin took off his eyeglasses and offered them to my slightly vision- impaired and flushing husband.

"Would these help?" he joked.

"Yeah, but you're usually late to meetings so I just assumed today would be no different." Good defense, but not enough to get him off the hook.

My own experience also has to do with eyesight, takes place at work, and is just as humiliating. After Jeromy and I got married last summer I took a job as a receptionist for a local oral surgeon. After a few weeks the doc needed some extra hands in surgery…holding heads, suctioning, all the "fun" stuff. Yeah right. While I can now say I'm glad for the 3 months of healthcare experience, I wouldn't go back for anything. I learned that I can deal just fine with my own blood, but I would rather not see the blood of anyone else. I would rather have oral surgery done on myself than watch someone else get oral surgery!

Anyway, a couple months into the position I was asked to hold the head of a teenage boy who needed some gum work done. And that's not the chewing kind! And of course, that meant a LOT of blood, which I was just so excited about. The boy had already been administered the anesthesia and was out cold, and Dr. Z (as we called him) was about to take out the drill. *scary music* Just before he started drilling I realized I didn't have my safety glasses on!

"Wait!" I said with sudden alarm "I can't find my goggles! Everyone looked up at me as I went digging into my lab coat pockets. They looked at one another in confusion, then looked back at me.

"You're wearing them," one of the other assistants bluntly pointed out, most certainly relishing this blonde moment. No way, I thought. My goggles are bulky and so fogged up that I always notice them. I reached my hand up to my eyes and….touched hard plastic rims. Doh!

Ok, so the latest stupid thing I did has to do with something I used to as a kid (which was strange in and of itself). Jeromy and I got to talking one evening last week, and I can't remember how the subject came up, but we discussed some of the acrobatics we used to do. Namely, stand on our head. Apparently, I used to stand on my head for 20 or 30 minutes at a time, and to this day I have no idea why! I'd watch TV standing on my head! I think maybe I did it because I was good at it, even though the stunt itself was uncomfortable. At least, I would hope so! Because it certainly was uncomfortable – and painful! – when Jeromy and I decided to see if the good 'ol "head stand" could still be done. Jeromy went first, and wasn't so successful. Determined, I went to try, and failed on the first attempt. The second try; victorious for about 30 seconds (as opposed to minutes), although a little wobbly. After I "landed" I decided that I should probably quit while I'm ahead, and to never to try that again!

Initially I felt no physical consequence for standing on my head. A couple days later, however, I woke up to an incredibly stiff neck and shoulders. The plus was that Jeromy granted me several massages that hurt like the dickens but felt amazing for the very reason that it hurt like the dickens. The next day the pain subsided, and I hardly noticed it. I went about my regular workout regimen for two days and felt fine both during and after working out.

The day after that second workout; Saturday, the stiffness returned so horribly that I felt stricken in bed! Just washing my hair and putting my clothes on in the morning seemed like huge chores.

Monday morning left me moaning and groaning, and Jeromy wouldn't let me go to work without at least seeing my doctor. I fought it because I always think whatever is wrong with me will just go away with time, or I can deal with it because life has to go on! I can't miss a whole day of work since I am considered a part time employee with no paid sick leave, much less any other benefits. Plus tomorrow is a workout day and I can't be drugged up on medications that make you drowsy and dizzy!

Now it's Tuesday, I carpooled to work after taking the day off yesterday, and I'm walking (and talking) a little slow. I hope to hit the gym tonight once the meds wear off (only cardio, I promise!), but I still plan on carpooling again tomorrow once the next dose kicks in.

I just can't believe that I have to go through all this just because I did something stupid. Especially as stupid as standing on my head! I'm not 6 years old for goodness sake! I know I have a really hard time slowing down, and that this experience should let me catch my breath, but it's still an inconvenience. It's one thing if you hurt yourself playing sports, or even get rear ended, but there's no excuse for this one!

I think I'll try standing on my feet from now on….

holding loosely

Jeromy left on travel today. Under an hour ago he stopped by my office to say goodbye. Granted, it's only for a night or two, but hey, we're still newlyweds! So far in our ten married months we have only been apart three or so nights, when I had training up in Baltimore last December and stayed with his aunt Cheryl. Jeromy had travel last week too, but at the last minute drove home because he had to pick up an essential part to his equipment. That was nice. Husband slips into bed unexpectedly at 11:30. Before that I couldn't sleep. It's just too weird to sleep alone anymore. But once Jeromy came home, zzzzzzzz!

One really feels the depth of love for another when that person is away. Even for one night. That ache. And I already cleaned the house on Sunday morning before church (yes, really!) so how in the world am I going to keep myself busy tonight?! Now I know why so many people keep their TVs or radios on all the time. It lessons the sense of lonely in the absence of a loved one.

One thing I learned real quick while trying to fall asleep on that Jeromy-less night last week. It is so easy to latch on to another person as your security and comfort and well-being. I realize Jeromy is God's gift and that I should embrace and rejoice in everything that a husband is to a wife, and yet, even though we are one and though Jeromy is my earthly joy, a man can never fill the role of God in my life. But it can be easy to view him that way if I'm not careful. It's easy to be devastated and depressed when we have to be apart, looking to Jeromy to fill me up instead my Creator.

Jeromy is tangible. I see his face and feel his touch and hear his voice. And he is literally mine. But I cannot be sustained by my husband the way God can sustain me. I will not spend eternity as Jeromy's wife because it merely points to my future union with Christ, though I can't see Him yet. I am not promised one more minute with the man I love, and I need to be ok with that. I need to thrive with that mindset so that I'm free to really live and love.

A lot of the time it is very difficult for me to understand how we are to enjoy things on this earth. God gives us good things, but they are still ultimately His. Sometimes I am actually afraid to enjoy something completely because there is always that chance that God will take it away. There is always this nagging in the back of my mind that I am loving something too much, and that when it is gone I will then hurt too much. And that is exactly the place I need to grow. We are to hold things loosely because we serve a God who both gives and takes away. The only thing He does not take away is Himself, and that needs to be enough.

Everything else He gives us is pure grace and nothing more. I don't deserve to call Jeromy mine, but because of grace, I do. I shouldn't have been given the opportunity to go to college and get a decent job, but because of grace, I was. And it is only grace that lets me wake up each morning and walk and eat and breathe. And if God should one day take any or all of those things away, I have to believe He is still good, and that He is and will always be enough.

In the meantime...I get to experience the sweetness of waking up next to my crazy-amazing-bedhead husband, and let me tell you, there's almost nothing better in life than that!

Who's will is it anyway?

I have a degree in Education, and yet I knew during my freshman year of college that I would never be a teacher. I've taught Sunday School and Junior Church (and love that), but I can't imagine myself in a classroom of 20 kids with parents breathing down my neck. I saw just enough of that during my 10 weeks of student teaching, TYVM!

For a while I was feeling like a rebel against God's will. Why would He lead me through all four years of the education program at Pillsbury if He didn't want me to teach -- only to work as a nanny after graduation? I felt like I was running from something hard and undesirable, and I that if I didn't want to do it, then maybe God didn't want me to either...BUT maybe He did, and I was being selfish by doing my own thing.

And who really knows?

People talk about God's "perfect will" and his "make-do-with-the-poor-choices-of-sinners will". You know, when God re-directs, turns us around, closes doors, etc. Well I can't explain God and the way His sovereignty works in harmony with man's free will, but I take consolation in his foreknowledge as backup. :) And I can't even explain how THAT ability plays out in His plan, since time doesn't even actually exist! So all I really have left is simple trust, if I can dig around long enough in my heart to find it. I digress...

So here I am, still no desire to teach beyond the confines of volunteer church ministry, but, unbelievably, I am still actually using my degree!!! Well, not technically, but at least it helped boost my resume! I am actually using more of my nanny experiential wisdom in my present job than anything else. I don't know if this is where God meant for me to go, from His eternal perspective, but in some crazy God-sized way, I am exactly where He wants me now. I can't say for sure if He ever wants me to teach (please no, please no!!), but it's only NOW that I have to worry about...or rather, focus on.

Last Fall while I was still doing the head-holding, gum-suctioning in oral surgery, I finally relented to this most likely false nagging in my head that I at least needed to give teaching a chance. I applied as a substitute at the local Christian school. I was on edge the whole time, scared beyond all sense, and yet I was proud of myself for at least finding out if teaching could ever be any sort of option for me. The faculty seemed so excited to see me, I expected a call right away. Well I waited...and waited. A month later I thought, "this is crazy," and I applied to other non-teaching positions in totally unrelated fields. And eventually I got hired to take calls from community parents looking for licensed child care and offering them counseling! And I don't even have kids!

Once I received this job, I immediately assumed this would finally close the door on the teaching issue. God had answered my nagging guilt and was more than pleased with my effort to give Him and His will (perfect or otherwise) a chance, as if the whole thing were a test and I had passed by taking the high road. And now I do not need to expect any call to the classroom ever again.

*sigh*

Sometimes I still catch myself with that mindset, as though I have discerned the mind of God in this regard and that I know God will never ask me to teach. And it's still totally my choice, I know that well. But if I don't care enough to even pray about it, can I really say this is God's will? Probably not....at least in one sense. I keep telling myself that if God wants me to teach someday, then He's going to have to give me the desire to teach, or it's a sure sign it's NOT His will. I think, "Well, one ought to enjoy teaching or one will surely inflict a negative influence on those students!" The excuses are endless.

Well, I know there are a million things in life I would rather not do that are, in fact, His will. Making dinner (I despise cooking), working out (especially at 6a.m.!), maintaining a positive attitude (I have a worry tendency) and, at times, speaking to my husband with humility (I am always right, after all!). These are just hard things, and yet they are God's will. So I know that "desire" logic doesn't work.

I do know that there is nothing God calls me to do that will not bring me joy in some form. I just don't like doing things unless on my own tems and in my own time. If someone tells me to do something, I internally feel defensive because even though I may very well want to do that thing, the fact that I wasn't the one to bring it up or decide when and how to do it somehow makes me mad! Isn't that annoying? I don't get that. But since God knows me better than I do, I know I need to work on resting in His ability to appoint tasks and roles that are suited for me whenever and however He sees fit (even if that includes teaching one day). Is it as easy as that? No. And why is resting the most difficult thing in life? (but that's another blog). I'm sure I'll still put up a fuss and pound the floor with my fists a few times, but He'll bring me around.

For now I'll just relish this moment because it could change in a heartbeat. Looking back I see clearly the string of events (bread crumbs, I like to call it!) that brought me to this place and time. A college diploma, a few mistakes made and lessons learned, a pressing through the unknown, a purchased plane ticket, and a hope and anticipation for something good. And it's ALWAYS good.

btw, the principal of that Christian school goes to my church, and I sat next to her last week during the service, and she didn't even remember where she knew me from! ha!

In all circumstances

"Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 4:4-7).

"Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you " (I Thessalonians 5:16-18).

*****

Taking a fresh look at these verses. More like it, taking a fresh look at God. At myself. At life. Being a Christian for 21 years doesn't mean anything. Sometimes I feel like I'm just starting out, like I just found out there is a God. Sometimes I don't even know what faith is. And most of the time I don't deal well with having to trust. That implies limited or no understanding, and that's hard. But since "control freak" and "Christian" don't go together, I know I can't camp here. Not if I want to be happy, or at least finally grasp what it means to live with joy.

This time I can't bring myself to renew the same promises, nor trick myself into thinking I've repented. It has never worked. I can't just pray and say, "Ok, God, you can have me" while hoping for the best. All I know to do is grab a hold of God's pinkie and pray for Him to get me through this moment. And the next moment. And the next. I have to live in the present. I know I am still going to fail and let my emotions reign, but I can't live like that's a sure thing unless I want to defeat myself. It would also cause me to miss out on moments of peace and opportunities to praise.

This is so not easy for me. To praise when life throws a curve? Are you kidding?! I set out to make something work, and it's gonna work!!!

For so long I've had all the right answers. I've quoted Scripture and believed all the right things. But seldom have I thought about this realistically. Of course all you do is trust and obey! There's no other way to be happy in Jesus! That's sanctification in a nutshell. Two little words even a 5-year-old can quote. Sounds simple enough…until you wind up in a "circumstance".

I would venture to say most people have several "circumstances" on any given day. We make small things big, and big things bigger. We find ourselves stressed or frustrated or hurt or angry or disappointed or just plain ugly! Sometimes I feel all of the above and boy is that is a circumstance! Tell me then. Tell me in that moment to trust and obey! Ha! You'll see me turn m my heel and walk the other direction! I could even read it straight out of Scripture, only to shut the Book and go do my own thing. I'm just being real that it's difficult to believe God amid circumstance. So how can I consider praise?

I realize that I am responding in the flesh with these words. I know all too well that the Spirit provides a wealth of faith if I will just draw from it. Yet in the moment all I can see is the problem and the unfairness of it. Of the unfairness of God. I don't like those thoughts but I have to confess them. It doesn't matter what the circumstance is, whatever I face is big and hopeless and final and "out to get me". I see God as something of a trickster, Who gives only to take away, as if life is just one big test and you can't really fully enjoy anything or it will be snatched away. A God Who wants to pour nothing but difficulty into our laps when we submit to Him. A Being who doesn't really care about our happiness, only our holiness.

What has happened to my understanding of God? Why do I fall trap to these lies again and again?

I'm weary of knowing all the right answers and them not being real in my life. I desperately want a correct view of God so I can fully learn to trust Him with my deepest being and my most beloved possessions. I want to find the link between happiness and holiness, an understanding that stems from more than a textbook explanation. I even want to find, in spite of myself, praise spilling from my mouth in the darkest of moments and with the heaviest of hearts.I really want to get this!

If it ever happens I know that it will be ALL Spirit and none of me, because praise is only natural if I'm directing it at myself. I need to figure out what happened to my new heart and pull it back up to the surface and recover that song that's been lying dormant. And I must not look ahead of this day (often this hour!) or else I will surely conjure up a million negative scenarios that will most likely never take place, and I will spend an hour worrying about it and maybe even crying a little. Over something that is not true! I forecast all these horrible things that will happen and cause misery. A "nothing is fair and nobody cares" mentality; all of it destructive.

It's the lies.

I need Truth!

And so I picked up an old Catherine Marshall read called, Something More. And she has been there! Halleluiah!! I have found somebody with whom I can relate! Most of the time people hide behind their perfect faces and perfect families and perfect schedules. I'm guilty along with the rest of them. Transparency leaves us feeling vulnerable, and so it's much safer to keep our hearts in the shadows and merely socialize instead of experience true fellowship. Can we even find fellowship anymore? Ahh….thank goodness for the blog. He never lets me down and I feel safe with him.

I don't need people to tell me what to believe or do, I need people to tell me they understand.

Something More isn't preachy. It doesn't provide Scriptural pat answers nor a false sense of security like some do. Ms. Marshall fully recognizes that this stuff isn't easy. She's more like, "I'm right there with ya, girl, but let's not give up!" She certainly doesn't claim to completely understand God, nor His ways. I imagine she struggled as a Christian up until her last breath. But she provides hope amid the struggle. The little snippets of her experience (the defeats as well as the victories) and the anecdotes of other saints who also didn't give up seem to be just what I need. She isn't afraid to ask the hard questions, no matter how silly they sound in light of Scripture's clarity. She knows that faith is so much easier to discuss in a Bible study than it is to practice in the real world. "Is God in everything?" is her first question. Even in evil such as death, illness, and suffering? And while Ms. Marshall's answer is "Yes", she doesn't eliminate the struggle to accept this, even after a biblical monologue painting a better understanding of God.

While I am slow in coming around, the answers are making their way to my heart, and I am facing them, as I mentioned earlier, in a fresh way. Learning and meditation is the step I'm on, and it is a process. I know I will fall, so all I can aim for is a conscious desire to get right back up.

*****

"Grim circumstances of quite a different nature faced our Dutch friend Corrie ten Boom and her sister Betsie during World War II in Ravensbruck, the Nazi concentration camp. The sisters had been hauled off to prison for aiding Jews in the Dutch underground in their native village of Haalem" (Marshall 28).

Although found in chapter 2 of Catherine Marshall's Something More (pp. 28-29), the following is taken from The Hiding Place (Washington Depot, Conn.: Chosen Books, 1971), pp. 180-181.

At one period of their imprisonment Corrie and Betsie were transferred from crowded cells (where they had been separated for months) to Barracks 28. Within the hour they discovered that their reeking straw bed pads were crawling with fleas.

"How can we live in such a place!" Corrie wailed softly.

Without answering, Betsie immediately began praying, "Show us, Lord. Show us how." Then a moment later excitedly, "Corrie, He's given us the answer! I read it in the Bible this morning. Here—read that part again." It was in I Thessalonians. "Rejoice always, pray constantly, give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus—"

"That's it, Corrie! We're to thank Him for every single thing about the new barracks."

"Such as?" Corrie was trying to look with fresh eyes at the half-dark, foul-smelling room."

"Such as being together here."

"Oh yes.""And having managed so far to hang onto that Bible."

"Yes—oh, yes. Thank You, Lord, for that."

"And for the fleas—"

"Betsie, I see no way I can thank God for fleas."

"But fleas are part of this place where God has put us. 'Give thanks in all circumstances,' it says. Not just pleasant circumstances."

So the two women thanked God for the fleas.As the days wore on the prisoners in Barracks 28 discovered that there was an astonishing lack of supervision or interference. Corrie and Betsie used the unprecedented freedom to talk to the other prisoners, read the Bible to them, minister in a myriad ways.

Then one day a supervisor tipped her hand as to why they were given so much latitude. Some of the women had called through the grilled door to ask the supervisor to come and settle a dispute. She refused, as did the guards. "That place is crawling with fleas," the supervisor said. "I wouldn't step through the door."

Corrie's mind rushed back to their first hour in the barracks and to their rueful prayer thanking God for fleas. When she looked up, Betsie was chuckling, her eyes sparkling. "So now we know why we were supposed to praise Him even for fleas. Even the fleas had to be His instrument for our good."

Feeding on spiritual meat

I should clarify a couple things about this blog...

I think where I am going with the theology topic pertains to a swing in the opposite direction from what I experienced growing up.

On one hand, you have those who think they are right about every theological detail, to the extent where the point of separation even includes dogmatic stances on "gray" issues. I have seen that over and over... pious splits over Bible versions, Tulip points, and whether one is a dichotomist or trichotomist (meaning, are our beings comprised of two components–body & soul, or three—body, soul, and spirit? All basically futile in argument.) I will say, while the study of the differing views can be healthy and lead to Christian growth (if in the right spirit), they are definitely NOT essentials to the Christian walk.

However, we are noticing the pendulum swing to the other extreme: individuals, churches, and even recent Christian movements that focus on relationship with Christ (which is good), but they, too, are unbalanced. The relationship remains sort of a mystical relationship because there is no substance. They don't know much about the God to whom they are praying because relationship is emphasized over in-depth study of His Word. And both are so crucial!

Now that I'm out of my Bible college bubble I realize that being a Christian isn't about legalistic rules. Yes, freedom in Christ is a beautiful thing! Yet that doesn't give us an excuse to remain ignorant about the character and working of God through what is called theology. Theology simply means the study of God. If we neglect that, our faith is going to be based on fluff. And even those of us who have received a foundation in theology, if the study of God is not emphasized, will raise children and grandchildren who run the risk of developing unbalanced Christian lives.

People "do" theology every day without even knowing it. We all stand for views we know little about. I am guilty of that all the time! We will not truly have an authentic relationship with God unless we know who He is. And we won't know who He is without diving into His Word. So I guess the purpose of this blog is, without bringing up the other end of the pendulum or rather, assuming it exists (theological arrogance and legalism, that is), I am just hoping for more of a balance. And that we as individual Christians can be instrumental in encouraging our churches toward this balance by our life example.

You can't have substance without relationship, and you can't have relationship without substance. I am simply focusing on the latter statement, which is a new trend I've experienced at this time and in this corner of the world. I'm not experiencing the former statement as much as I used to, though it still exists.

I was hoping the last few paragraphs would bring the balance aspect to light, but clarification can be a good thing. So please read the following with this tedious and unintentionally preachy disclaimer in mind. :)

Any takers to start the first ever perfect church??? j/k

**********

Jeromy and I have felt a huge need for the local church to offer classes/courses in theology. I think a lot of pew-sitting Christians hold to a blind faith, and that the biggest reason they fear sharing their faith is because they don't know what they believe or why, or at least can't explain it. I went to Bible college and still don't have answers to many, many questions! Maybe the church is comfortable with settling for this kind of shallow understanding of their faith. It's easier to be ignorant about tough questions and just simply follow a list of rules.

Christians today seem to want to appear spiritual/godly. We want to know we are ok, yet we don't want to check our innermost being that God knows all too well. We're afraid of what we'll find...that we're not as spiritual as we thought. We are afraid we will find complacency and arrogance.

But...a new heart will push past the tension and probe the depths. That's maturity. True faith will want to grasp concepts like "sola scriptura" and to be able to understand why the ESV version of the Bible is just as ok to read as the KJV, that the text is still inspired. A new heart will seek out and take advantage of opportunities to grow in knowledge and truth, so that we can accurately pave the way for a lost soul to know our Savior too. But for the very least, for our own growing experience!

Many doubt the sufficiency of Scripture, or even the relevance of learning theology. The fact is, we can find answers to most of life's questions, at least with as much revelation as God has given us. We can't, however, accurately solve age-old debates such as God's sovereignty vs. man's free will nor explain the Trinity, which is not even a biblical term, etc. Because God is God, there will always be some element of mystery.

But...I believe we can understand more than we think. We shrink from the questions of others because they boggle our own minds. If only the church (I say the church because this should be the highest equipping priority) would do more than preach morality and allow their congregation--struggling saints like you and me--the chance to really know our faith, this wouldn't be as big an issue. But instead they resort to Sunday School lessons and potlucks. (Not as a rule, but a very real trend.) There is no excuse, with the wealth of resources out there from which to choose. And even then, what it really comes down to is individuals taking responsibility for their own sanctification. Go beyond sitting in the pew. Get involved. Start a home study. Learn how to read and apply the Bible. Purchase a Greek or Hebrew lexicon even!

Jeromy has been taking a couple of online theology classes, and I have been fascinated, going through the material and video sessions with him. I am learning things that I had forgotten or wasn't even taught in my own doctrine courses! These sessions are greatly helping me understand things like why I can trust Scripture is inerrant as well as infallible, and things like why I believe one cannot lose their salvation. They are answering questions most believers hold in their hearts, including some who just don't care enough to pursue answers, or simply don't believe answers are out there. Or, perhaps they are afraid of what God might ask of them once they lose their ignorance by gaining insight. Do we want God to use our lives or don't we?

I'm just saying theology is good and needed and too often underrated among believers in general. There is maturity in wanting to know what you believe and why. It's sanctifying and God calls us to it. We can only feast on "milk" for so long before we are found out!

However, there is a crucial balance that becomes difficult when one begins to pursue theology. I have met too many seminary students and grads who speak of their simple faith and passion for God drying up because they have immersed themselves in words like efficacious, soteriology, and imputation. So we must be careful to keep perspective.

In sum, at times the church is often sub-par when it comes to equipping its saints in this way. Each generation of ignorant Christians is only going to produce the same. At the same time, teaching theology for the purpose of knowing God and desiring Him more is the objective that is probably most biblical. We study because we love God and want to emulate His Son, not because it will make us into prideful know-it-alls and great debaters. We are to speak the truth in love, but we must first be thoroughly familiar with what that truth is.

And while we encourage our local churches to see and meet the need for deeper theological understanding of their members, each one of us must still take the initiative because we are adults.

American Idol contestant Chris Sligh...my kin???

Even though he didn't win, it was fun to watch!

*****

Jeromy and I don't have cable. We both grew up with the TV on in our homes non-stop, and now we've chosen not to create an entertainment center shrine in our living room. The main reasons are, first, that we don't want to waste our lives mindlessly clicking the remote. The other is to escape most of the trash that permeates the tube.

I do catch Food Network shows at the gym (Go Rachel Ray!), and on occasion we do watch movies on our actual TV set, but we just don't pay for further television reception. In fact, we recommend the two most recent flicks we rented: "The End of the Spear" and the 2006 version of "The Ten Commandments". Both are highly engaging as well as thought-provoking -- yes, and entertaining. Still, they both resulted in sanctifying conversations between Jeromy and I after viewing them. I like movies that do that.

However, there is a downside to forgoing TV, and that is because I just found out one of my relatives is on American Idol! No joke.

Now, I've only watched one season of that highly overrated show, which was the year of the infamous William Hung. I literally couldn't help it. At the time I was working as a nanny for a family enthralled with American Idol. I would be hiding in the basement typing up emails while upstairs they blasted the show on their plasma TV and surround sound. I simply could not NOT hear it. I would be typing away, occasionally snickering at the latest contestant flop. Then I heard for the first time that now-familiar Asian voice belting out those unforgettable lyrics, "She bangs." I shall go no further with that. However, it got me upstairs and I ended up watching the rest of the season. I am a sucker. Thank you, Sweeney family. :)

Today my mom sent me an email with pictures of this guy named Chris Sligh. Apparently he's married to my second cousin Sarah (formerly) Quebe. Years ago we used to play in barns and trees at family reunions. They live in South Carolina now, so I probably haven't seen this girl for 10 years or more. Now she's married to Chris Sligh, a presently advancing contestant on American Idol, 2007. Wow. Makes me want cable just to see that. However, I did find some videos on YouTube of Chris' initial performance. Check it out. Let me know how he does since, you know, we're losers by the world's standard and don't have TV.

Looks like Chris has got voice AND charisma. Plus hair Richard Simmons only dreams about.

Speeding Heart

Most of the time when I'm driving on my local freeway, I notice that each vehicle acts independently from the other surrounding vehicles. And I mean to the extreme. Everybody wants to be first in line; nobody enjoys being cut off or slowed down. Today I noticed something different.

Living on a peninsula, there are only two main roads that run north and south: Routes 5 and 235. Southern Maryland is growing rapidly, as, it seems, everywhere else. The result is increased traffic on the road most heavily traveled to various workplaces around the county. 235 is crazy enough, and on top of that the speed limit is just 55mph.

I have a 30 minute drive to work, and it's just not fun to be on the road for an hour every day. I am constantly tempted to push 60...then 70, and I admit I average a speed of 70mph during the daily commute. The battle with the old nature is strong sometimes, especially in circumstances where breaking the law is accepted by the norm. And especially when 70mph is the flow of traffic.

Every time my speedometer reaches or passes 70mph my eyes are the widest and my heart beats the quickest. 'Is that a cop?' I reputedly ask myself, carefully judging each vehicle behind me for lights or Crown Vic characteristics. Cops love to lurk in all the nooks and crannies of 235, and I'm sure it's a rush to squeal their tires on the random casual speeder.

I have to say, God seems to give me the most grace during that drive to work! I've only had one speeding ticket in my life, and that was three years ago. Never mind that I was the only vehicle on a straight rural freeway. I just wonder how many tickets I really deserve! I'm sure most of us would confess that we'd be broke if we had to pay all those fines!

Back to today....I was about a third of the way to work when I noticed that I was second in line of six cars sandwiched together. There was plenty of room in the right lane, but all stayed left. We were pretty tight, yet all going at the same speed so it felt safe. And then I realized that we were no longer acting independently of one another. We had formed this chain on purpose as a means of protection from receiving a citation! The speed of choice was about 72mph, yet there was no way a cop could have squeezed in between any of us to tag us for speeding, except for maybe the last person. What a genius idea!

I kept checking the rearview mirror to see if anyone was going to pass on the right, and for about 15 miles, nobody moved. Suddenly we passed one cop sitting on a side road, hiding behind some trees. I waited for him to make his move, but no action. I could almost hear his exaggerated sigh as he felt the gust from our six-car train sway his police vehicle a bit. The crazy thing was, I felt a tinge of guilt, though overshadowed by this incredible feeling of escape.

Soon I saw these two highway patrol cars zip right past me from out of nowhere! I looked down at the speedometer and noticed I was still at 70mph. The two cops must have been going 75-80! Maybe they grew frustrated at our "snail's pace" that they decided to pass us all!

After that our little caravan broke apart, and I eased back into 65-70, pondering all the silent communication that had taken place over the last 15 minutes. Why should it irk me that a cop feels he doesn't need to keep the law, but that we have to always stress over it, always have to avoid getting caught? The problem was, I had just cooperated with five other people in order to stretch the law! No, to break the law -- to participate in a crime! I am an individually responsible citizen, and that excuse surely won't go over if I ever do get pulled over again!

This happens on the road all the time. Today I just noticed it. The point is, I can't go with the flow just because the next man does, or even because I sense people riding my tail in order to force me to speed. Speeding breaks the law, end of story. But I do it and will probably do it again, just to save a precious 5 minutes on the road. All for nothing, really. And the scary part is, that mentality most likely spills over into other areas of my life as well. 'Maybe God will offer more lenience since everybody does it. Or maybe it's not so bad after all.'

At times I catch myself drowning in these thoughts. Other times I don't. It's those times of guiltlessness that should worry me. "The heart is [indeed] deceitful above all things, desperately wicked, who can know it?" (Jeremiah 17:9).

Search me O God!

work, Waldorf, Thai, coffee, mornings, Bob Dole, and Valentine's Day

I have restless fingers syndrome.

Not really, just need to type. The only time I really get to blog is at work. The official title of my position is LOCATE: Child Care Counselor. I work for a non-profit organization called the Southern Maryland Child Care Resource Center (mouthful!), an aspect of which is a referral service. I take calls from parents looking for child care, and I give them information on licensed family and center providers in the tri-county. There is also some counseling involved, such as how to screen providers and identify quality care. The process averages 30-50 minutes each. Some days it's crazy busy and I'm sick of talking by the end of the day. Other days, like today, the phone is s l o w ... On top of it, it's jeans Friday and I just want to go home and spend time with my sweetie! Although, that does give me BLOG TIME!

Life in Southern Maryland is what you make of it. St. Mary's County is a peninsula, so you can either go north, south, or....north or south. Waldorf is the closest "big city", but a friend of ours once stated most accurately by calling Waldorf "one big store." Basically, that means there's just a bunch of malls and restaurants crammed together, which makes both shopping and eating a most difficult task on the weekend. And with a 45 minute drive, we never venture there except for weekends, so it's just not fun.

However, one of the two perks of Waldorf is Bed Bath & Beyond, which is where we used up most of our wedding gift cards to purchase all our house necessities. But even that got old. How is it we all seem to need so much junk?! Those cards are long gone, though, so now we never go there. :)

The other perk of Waldorf is Thai Flavor. Jeromy and I have a running joke because he called it "Thai Taste" by accident one time, and now we like that name better. :) They make the BEST satay in the world! Ok, so I've only had it at a couple other restaurants, but that's about the validity of most statistics anyway, right? I didn't really like Asian food before I met Jeromy. But then I met Jeromy, and now Asian is my obsession!

I think I grew to love Asian because it's healthier and fresher than a lot of other restaurant choices out there. (Especially Mexican!) At least you feel it's healthier because you're eating rice and broccoli. Sometimes I'd like to hold onto my blissful ignorance. Because if you don't want me to ruin you, don't look up the nutrition information for the majority of menu items at Panera Bread. Panera Bread!!! Trust me. You might as well eat at McDonalds.

And then there's coffee. This county needs more coffee shops! There are three that I know of. One is a tiny, highly over-commercialized Starbucks with uncomfortable and dirty seating, and is always cold. Then you have Brewing Grounds, which was half my weekly employment from November to January. I loved learning how to make espresso and interacting with people in the community. It's got the best ambiance in the county as far as I'm concerned. But they they close way too early (5pm!!!), yet I can't complain because as a former employee, the hours were great!

On the other hand, the Coffee Quarter, which is where Jeromy and I met (besides on Myspace!) is also nice, but the quality of the coffee-making isn't worth the price for a decent latte. That, and the only time we can really go there is Friday night. But after a few Friday night outings at the Coffee Quarter, we've about had it with the obnoxiously LOUD teenie bopper Emo groups. We'd rather sip coffee together somewhere that doesn't require yelling in order to hear one another!

So...what's a young, Christian, newlywed, coffee-drinking couple without children to do on a Friday night?

Actually, since Jeromy and I get up so stinkin' early during the work week, we tend to feel exhausted and spent by 9pm, even on weekends. How pathetic is that? Personally, I enjoy the early morning better than the late night because the day is fresh; full of light, energy, and mercy. The day's events are a mystery, with an element of anticipation if ever I let it. Too quickly I find myself embracing the day through a lens of tasks and responsibilities that I make stressful or mundane, and that strip me of the day's initial wonder. Perhaps that's why I do love mornings so much. There's always a possibility that in all of God's prompting, He will actually get my attention; much greater a feat, and keep it. I long for that every day, but I'm usually too busy doing in order to be. Abundant life is what God offers, but sometimes I just grope for life at all. Maybe in the morning, things will be different...

Evenings are ok, if there is enough caffeine and liveliness to keep us going. However, we usually wait until in the moment before we finally ask the question, "So, what should we do tonight?" I don't recommend that because most everything spontaneous we can think of involve spending money.

Take Valentine's Day, for example. This year was actually our first Valentine's together because though we were a couple last year, I had to be in Charlotte that week. So then now we finally get to be together for the holiday, all thoughts and plans fail because we have a huge ice storm the night before and I hit my head and we spend 4 hours in the ER. So much for making that red velvet cake... But it didn't feel right not doing anything for Valentine's Day, but it's hard to be too sentimental when it's the day of and you have to rack your brain for something special. It's just not the same.

However, the evening ended in fireworks because we both suggested something stupid and fun, and just went with it. My suggestion was to order pizza (which we rarely do since we make our own most of the time). I know...it was Valentine's Day and all...but I just know Jeromy loves Papa Johns. So then Jeromy thought it would be fun to go to Target and purchase gifts for one another. That was that. A planned date night!

After calling in our order we drove over the bridge to pick up our order at Solomons. Since it was starting to get late, we decided to eat the pizza in the truck on the way to Target. In a strange way we felt like we were dating again because over the course of those nine single months we had spent more time in that Chevy S10 than any actual building. That piece of red metal is like family to us now.

By the time we pulled into the Target parking lot we had polished off the entire pizza! (That is, five pieces for Jeromy, three for me!) We turned the store outing into a sort-of game. We each were given a limit of $10, and couldn't let the other person see the gift until we got home. That wasn't all that easy, either! People gave us strange looks all throughout the store because we must have looked like we were about to rob the place, the way we were being all secretive. But it was so much fun!

I found Jeromy's gift almost right away. It was easy. Drum sticks. This is a long story, but I was going to give Jeromy drum or voice lessons for his birthday. I was given some names and numbers of instructors in the area, which I copied on a piece of scratch paper and stuffed down into my purse. On Christmas Day we visited some amputee soldiers at Walter Reed Hospital in D.C., and happened to run into some White House officials and others who had also come to encourage the soldiers. Also, my uncle introduced us to Bob Dole, a several times acquaintance of his. Former Senator Dole was looking very aged and thin, but was most pleasant to us. After our brief conversation I thought to give him a gospel tract, which he accepted. Well, I later found out that when I had shoved that piece of paper with all those numbers inside my purse, it had slid inside that same tract I gave to Bob Dole! I bet he'd make a rockin' drummer!

Conservatively, of course...

Jeromy picked out a card game and cartons of Play Doh for me. How romantic! We spent the rest of the evening chilling on the couch and comparing our Play Doh creations. Did you know they make confetti Doh now? It's white with colorful sprinkles!

Papa Johns Hawaiian pizza: $12

Silly gifts from Target: $20

Gasoline: $2

Funky, original, spontaneous Valentine's date with your husband, minus the overbaked red velvet cake and overpriced Hallmark card: PRICELESS

Don Miller and other musings

I finally finished my second Don Miller book. I zipped through Blue Like Jazz last spring. I mean I read that thing in less than a week, even amid all the busyness of traveling and planning for a wedding. I started Searching for God Knows What in July. The first couple chapters of this book went fairly quickly. Then I got married. After that whirlwind the pace through the second read slowed to a paragraph a sitting for a while, though I was as committed to reading the last page as I am to finishing the last drop of a latte. It's just not right to leave even a hint of sweet espresso goodness sitting in the bottom of the cup, destined for the trash. After all, it probably cost me 28 cents alone! It's the principle of good stewardship!

I don't know why it took me seven months to finish the book, other than a few distractions in my life such as, hmmm...a move, three job changes, addition of ministries, weekly meal planning, vacuuming, dusting, and extensive hand-holding sessions with my new husband. When does a girl have time to read?!

However, since I am not a quitter (except for two jobs, but that's a separate issue...), I began carrying Don Miller's book with me, much as I do my red leather-bound Bible, hoping this would help me take a few minutes here and there to immerse myself in the highly anti-religious, relational vs. formulaic discussion of Christian Spirituality. Yet one cannot read Miller's stuff "here and there". It's not like a novel. Perhaps this is why I kept feeling as though I were experiencing bouts of ADD every time I removed the bookmark and started to read. It was and is frustrating because I really like Don Miller's stuff!

At times I am so distracted by everything that I think I really do have ADD. It takes a lot, anymore, to slow down enough to quiet the heart while living in such a fast-paced culture. At least I find that true for me. Knowing this, I have to consciously make opportunities available, kind of force myself to sit still in order to gain some perspective. Scripture and authors like Don Miller help me keep that perspective. Reading is probably the biggest stress reliever for me, aside from writing, that is.

Whenever I read anything that makes me think, I get this sudden urge to write. (Thus, a new blog!) Writing is very therapeutic for me, and sometimes I even feel guilty for putting off the journaling of my thoughts and inner struggles. I believe God made me this way, to process life through written word. It helps me to recognize and, in turn, remember what God is doing in my life. It's as if writing is a first-person conversation with God. And I believe He gets some sort of glory from that. It is when I neglect to make time to write that I don't get that sense of self-examination. Issues become easier to push back and pretend they don't exist when they are not thoroughly processed. I feel like many of the lessons God intends me to "get" and apply become fragmented and optional, instead of essential to the well-being of my heart, essential as God Himself. That sounds heavy, but I just think Satan knows how spiritual it is for me to write, just like he knows prayer and Bible study leads to spiritual growth. Therefore, he does everything he can to keep me away from these most beneficial activities. I will even go as far as to say writing causes me to desire spending devotional time with God because, for some reason, I can't be fake when I write. Writing pulls out what's inside - both hearts, new and old; the smiles and the scars; the joy and the pain. For some reason the keyboard does not let me hide.

I would like to say I am turning over a new leaf this day, that I will from now on carve out a half hour every day to pour out raw thought in blog form. But I just finished Don Miller's book. That practice would be formula, and you and I both know that such specific discipline turns into ritual, and ritual into hum drum. I am on a journey to find out what abundant life in Christ is all about, and I know from too many experiences that I will find only the opposite if I fix my spiritual life into a box like that. Since Christianity is relational, it is also personal. God made unique individuals, did He not? So within the realm God's character as well as the essentials of the faith, we are each free to desire Him and seek Him and grow in Him in the way that actually works for us. John Piper would say that a huge aspect of our obedience to God is the joy we pursue in Him. There must be both. And wouldn't you want both? Not in a way that works for someone else, but for you? So much of my Christian life has been an attempt to emulate the spiritual lives of others. So much of it has been trite and dry. Abundant life, eh? Well I know it is available because of all the ways it is sprinkled in the words of Jesus throughout the New Testament. (See Ephesians 3:20, John 10:10, and I Corinthians 2:9.) But how do I experience it? How do spiritual activities keep their luster and shine when life feels dull and I feel drained?

I think the gist is summed up in John 17:3, which gives us the object or source of our abundant life, "And this is eternal life, that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent." My quest, then, is to know God. This quest is as unique to me as it is for you, although always stemming from Christ. Without Him we simply cannot know God. But since the way has been made, why not act upon it? He is within our grasp but so infrequently do I reach for Him. I claw the air for something to fulfill me, but He is so big and so present that I sometimes miss Him!

When I tell people I used to live five minutes from the ever famous Mall of America in Bloomington, Minnesota (ok, so it's the only claim to fame we've got a leg to stand on...although there is the Mary Tyler Moore house...), they ask me how often I would venture there. I tell them I lived next door the "Mega Mall" for a whole year and I probably visited the place a total of three times. Most of those times were to entertain out-of-town guests with the roller coaster contained in the mall's indoor amusement park. People can't believe I could live so close to such an attraction and hardly take advantage of it! I'm sure people who live five minutes from Disneyland could resonate with me. Or perhaps individuals who live next door to a famous person but never ask them over for coffee.

Simply, we gravitate toward things which are unfamiliar. New places, events, experiences - those usually within at least a four-hour drive of our homes! In this way, I always marvel at the concept of vacation. Why is it that we would rather spend half our vacation leave sitting in stuffy airports or stuffy cars in order to experience beauty and excitement in some other place? Why don't we just drive across town and eat at the city's favorite restaurant? Why don't we take a picnic to the local nature center? Why do we like to visit every other state capitol except ours? There is so much we can enjoy within a stone's throw that we rarely take advantage of. I lived in Minnesota most of my life, and never made it to the Boundary Waters. Even a jaunt into downtown St. Paul for a concert was "big doin's"!

As another example, my family used to take summer road trips all around the country to experience the "other". In fact, while I was growing up we took at least two trips to Washington D.C. That's a 20+ hour drive nonstop! We visited every monument, statue, and historical site within the vicinity, my mother envisioning the finished photo album every step of the way. Now I live just 90 minutes south of D.C. and have never gone site-seeing in the last year and a half I've been here! How pathetic. It's at least ten times cheaper a trip! Where did the excitement go?

The point is, we get used to things and they lose their interest. Unfortunately, it seems we have even grown used to (or perhaps distracted ourselves from) the omnipresence of the God of the universe, so much so that our desire to be with Him has greatly dimmed. Christ is no longer novel, just like the places and attractions that draw tourists to our area no longer appeal to us. Have we figured out God?! If we think of Him as old hat we don't really know Him! Or, at least, we forget how much we enjoy Him until we taste Him once again. Until we take that stroll around the neighborhood park and remember how fun it is to ride the swings!

We forget that the greatness of the experiences God allows us are so that in our enjoyment of them, we would magnify Him. Yet, too often we focus on the created, overlooking the Creator. These things are but hints of His greatness. If we would only look through the wonders of this world instead of at them, maybe then our wonder will turn to Him. Maybe then we would no longer be satisfied with what once caused us to shiver with excitement here on earth, because we would have caught a glimpse of something better. He is always there, which is different than all those other things in life we take for granted because they will pass away. God remains.

If we would only take time to pursue God like we pursue ski trips and exotic cruises, would we find that same psyched up feeling swell our hearts? I would say so. I think we start to pursue God, and then before we can blink we are back to pursuing ourselves. Our hearts deceive ourselves into thinking we are still pursuing God, but because the journey has left us bored, it has to mean God is no longer in the equation. If we would stay on the God-quest, I believe we would discover new things about Him we never knew existed. Our understanding of God's character would become clearer than ever before and then, in turn, our love and desire for Him would grow to new heights. I would venture to guess that God would seem new to us every day! After all, God created novel.

I think if I get to that point in my Christian journey, I will have begun to understand abundant life. In fact, I'll bet the experience most likely precedes the revelation! The pursuit of God probably is the abundant life, just like writing for me is both a spiritual process and a great interest. At any rate, we'll see where this takes me.

Thanks, Don Miller, for getting me to write again. I wonder what I will read next...

btw...Happy 6-month, Jeromy!