Archive for the ‘Not Food’ Category
2 Oct
My Trashcan is Overflowing
And I need to edge the sidewalk in front of my house.
Oh, and roll up the water hose.
And weed the herb garden.
And move that bag of garden soil to the backyard.
It’s been there since June.
I heard someone say this week, “You know, you can tell what a person’s house is like on the inside by looking at how they keep the outside.”
I’ve never really thought about it before, but I have now…a lot! Thank you, person who said this. Just like when I heard a woman say, “It really irk’s me when people don’t shave behind their knees”, I will always think about people looking at my unshaven legs, AND NOW, my unkempt front yard. Geesh!
Words we say have a lot of power. They are forever. Some of them, anyway. Words said in Financial Accounting 201 for me were forgotten before they cleared the lips of my professor, but that’s another type of thing. Words we say in judgement…as circumstantial evidence…as infallible truth – they are sticky boogers, especially if we are the gracious recipient of those with negative, pointy fingers.
Okay, Mr. Observer and person who thinks he might know what the inside of my house looks like based on the fact that my shudders are a little faded and I have some highway grass waving at passersby — Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, my priorities are a little different than yours? Have you ever thought that there are more important things in life than giving up a Saturday afternoon for weeding and lawn care? Maybe I didn’t straighten up the front yard before I left today because there was an emergency. Maybe I don’t have enough gas in my car to drive to the trash dump twice a week. Maybe my husband split and I’m struggling with the responsibilities of home maintenance that I’ve been left with. Maybe I’m dealing with sickness, or worse, sickness of a child.
The maybes are endless.
Do not judge based on the outside. Of anything.
Things are rarely what they seem.
And take care in the words you say, lest someone return the favor one day.
1 Oct
The Fabric Of Our LIves
Move over cotton.
The fabric of our lives is not something you can touch.
It’s not something you can outright see.
You can’t put it on and take off.
It is not always comfortable, either.
The fabric of our lives is woven into each of us, strand by strand.
By every experience.
Every encounter.
These are the things our fabric is made of.
I’m praising God today for three special artisans who have contributed to the fabric of my life:
Artisan One
When I was just a toddler, you made sure I went to church. You pulled me into your family, and the wood-panelled station wagon, for many trips to Sunday school and church services. You never treated me like an outsider, instead, creating in me a sense of self-worth and purpose. Because of your influence, I never doubted that God existed. Ever. Jesus was a part of every day, just like the buttered toast with jelly I had for breakfast so many mornings growing up in your kitchen next door. I will never forget the scanner that lived on top of the refrigerator in the kitchen. I knew by heart what the calls meant, and would sit by the table chair in the kitchen and watch you lace up your boots before you left for a fire. I always felt so safe, knowing that you were always listening for calls of distress – always willing to help when there was a need. You took me in when I needed a place to stay. And even though at that point in my life I was resistant to following you to church, you made sure I knew the invitation was always open to join you, and I have no doubt that you prayed for me ferociously during those years. The dinners you brought me home from Wednesday nights at church were so good! I always figured it must be because they were delivered by you, but now that I eat those dinners at church every Wednesday night, I know it’s because of all of the angels preparing and serving the food (you were one of those angels, too). We shared similar experiences with head on collisions, just months apart from each other. Even in that situation, I learned from your forgiving nature and love towards others – all others. You’d beep your horn every time you pass by my house – you in your infamous black pickup. And in the last few years we had together, you continued to show me – and the world! – what it meant to truly be a servant. I would get a kick out of seeing all the boys and girls, my own boys included, look forward to a “give me five – ahhh too slow”, followed by a piece of that golden candy. I admit, I looked forward to this ritual, too. And in our 42 year history, when your time on this earth was coming to an end, you continued to challenge and inspire me. In the very last conversation we had, which was a typical brief exchange by the door to the Young Hall, you asked me if I figured out my testimony yet. “You know, Toot, you have a story, too.” The fabric of my life has certainly been framed by you, and I’m so thankful for my parents who bought a house next door to you before I was born.
Artisan Two
I first met you twenty years ago. “Bestill my heart!” I had no idea what love was until I held you in my arms. You and I saw the world together for the first time from sets of eyes that were so willing to see goodness all around us. My love for you, and newfound protective nature, awakened in me a thirst to teach you all about life and to show you God’s beauty in people and in places. You had an insatiable need for touch and human connection from the time you were born until…well, you still have that! You recognized at an early age the importance of relationships – including the most important relationship with Jesus Christ. Looking back on it now, I see you teaching me far more than I have ever taught you. You challenge me, you encourage me, you pray for and with me. You show me daily what it means to live Luke 9:23. I have seen God’s blessings poured out on you, as you humbly press forth in building His kingdom. I’ve seen you hurt. I’ve seen you broken. And I’ve seen you weak. And through all of these, I’ve seen you never losing faith. I’ve been awed by your response to the world. It’s no wonder I have to wear glasses now. Somewhere along the lines, my vision stalled, where yours has never lost focus. You are definitely a thread woven throughout the entire fabric of my life, and I’m so blessed, so honored, to know you.
Artisan Three
We first met about seven years ago, even though I didn’t know your name. You were that nice guy, with the nice wife, who I would pass by as I left my neighborhood. You were always smiling. I mean, always. To the point that I would wonder, “what is he always smiling about?”. In time, I got to know you, and your name, as well as your wife and children and their names. As a matter of fact, I got to where I was spending a lot of time around you, as I was with my oldest son who was spending a lot of time around you, and I figured out why you were smiling all the time. Never before have I met someone who was completely, unashamedly, sold out for Jesus Christ and passionate about introducing Him to everyone — that’s you! That’s your smile. You don’t just preach it, you live it. It is through your walk, your honesty and your willingness to be open with every last fiber of your own fabric that anyone who crosses paths with you can’t help but see Jesus’s love. You have been a positive role model for my sons, and have willingly gone out of your way to reach not just my kids, but all of the youth in our church, with a life that is evident of salvation. No, let me rephrase that. You have gone out of your way to reach all in our church, not just the youth. And to this very day, you’re teaching us what it means to live obediently and in God’s will. I will miss you being down the street, but I know that the thread you’ve added to the fabric of my life will be forever a part of who I am. Thank you so much, my friend, my mentor, my brother in Christ.
God is so good. So, so good, always. And as a good friend of mine says all the time, “Doesn’t God just blow your mind?”. You see, years ago, when my parents chose to buy a house in Florence, God already had set a plan in motion for my life. I wasn’t even “expected” at the time they settled in Florence. But God knew that in order for me to be where I am today in my relationship with Him, I had to have all three of these artisans create important pieces of the fabric of my life. See, if my parents didn’t buy that little house on Hobart Drive back in the 60’s, I never would have lived next door to Mr. Phillip. And if I never lived next door to Mr. Phillip, chances are I might not have been exposed to Jesus in the same way. And if I wasn’t exposed to Jesus back then, I probably wouldn’t have had the same influence on my oldest son or desires to share about God’s creation with him. I probably wouldn’t live in a house down the street from a youth pastor named Justin, who would minster to my oldest son, and upon receiving a phone call from Mr. Phillip, be the transportation for my son back and forth to church for so long. And I probably wouldn’t have been sitting in the parking lot of my church, after dropping off my kids for their Wednesday activities, on the night that I felt the Holy Spirit invite me inside to find a chair in an adult Bible study group. God’s plan is perfect, and holy, and I’m so thankful that I can see evidence of this perfection woven throughout the fabric of my life. It’s made up of lots of threads, contributed by lots of artisans…and this is only the beginning.
What’s the fabric of your life made of?
2 Sep
Day 365
It has been a year.
I’ve spent today reflecting on the blessings of this blended journey we share.
Thank you, Lord, for your protection and your promises.
Because of you, dear Saviour, we rest well and have peace,
knowing that the paths we are on were set in motion by You,
long before we ever were.
“In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.”
Proverbs 16:9
26 Aug
Happy Birthday, Son
You loved your pacifiers (bippies).
And you loved your food.
You would yell for more between spoonfuls of smashed peas and ham.
You were independent, as long as someone was around.
You never liked to be alone.
You found security in rocking to sleep, in having the light on.
Bugs and rocks and all things boy occupied your attention.
You loved the ocean and the outdoors.
Your first pets were hermit crabs named Meow and Bark.
You accepted the name of Big Brother with pride, more than once.
Bike rides through the woods and afternoons in the “bamboo forest”
were some of the important things you shared with your siblings.
From baseball to skateboards and from weight training to cycling,
you were constantly in motion.
You once bit through your tongue on dismount from a trampoline.
You created many a song in the backyard treehouse,
strumming a mismatched tune on your guitar.
You loved to write poetry.
And now look at you!
I can’t believe it’s been twenty years already.
But I’m not surprised one bit at who you are today.
You still like your food, though you’ve acquired a more international palate.
You’re still very independent, yet confidently never alone.
The outdoors are a part of who you are, birthed restless into a world to be explored
You still teach your brothers all of the important things, as they observe your walk, even from afar.
An intercontinental marathon and unicycle have been added to your activities portfolio.
And truth in lyric continues to flow from you, a gift to us all.
I’m so thankful for you, son, and blessed beyond measure in being your mom.
Happy Birthday.
I love you, always & forever.
23 Jul
I’ve Got A Secret
“Hey! I’ve got something to tell you, but you can’t tell anyone. Wanna know what it is?”
Talk about a temptation! How many times have you been in that situation?
When I was a little girl, about 5 years old, I remember telling my momma what my daddy had bought her for Christmas. My dad let me see the gift and then told me not to tell her. OH, to hold a secret like that! I couldn’t stand it! I held the key, which if I shared it with my momma would surely elevate her to the most delightful state of joy. Me! I had the knowledge and the power to do that. On top of it all, it was a thing that I had heard commented on so many times when we were traveling or on vacation. It was something that I was certain would change “life on the road” as we knew it. Because my dad was in the Marines, we lived on one coast while my momma’s family lived on another. This made travels seem routine and common to this little girl. I’m not sure how long I held out, but I promise you this – it wasn’t a secret I kept to myself too long. I was to tell her. I had to tell her. Just had to! I couldn’t contain myself! I had so much excitement in the anticipation of being the one to tell her about the thing that was going to change her life and be so meaningful to her.
Now that I look back, my daddy knew this. That’s why he shared it with me. He knew that I would be thrilled at “being on the inside” of something that was going to impact her so much. The thing is, though, he knew that she wouldn’t believe me. He knew that even with my untrained honesty and girly giddiness, my momma would doubt my confession of the gift that was waiting for her.
This week I have had neat opportunities to share Jesus Christ with people, in unexpected places: from the comfort of my den, at my front door, and in my office. Very common places, right here in my “back yard”, if you will. There have been opportunities before, but this week, I recognized them in a different way. It seemed that as one opportunity came and left, I began expecting another one, just around the corner. And when the next opportunity came and left, I expected yet another. And you know what? They’ve kept on coming! The opportunities that were there before, I failed to see, because they didn’t “look” or “feel” like what I expected. Oh, how I have let my actions be dictated by this world – or really, I should say “lack of actions”.
So what’s different about this week? What has made the difference? Why are my eyes open to recognize these opportunities lately?
I’ve been spending a lot of time in the word these past couple of weeks (I mean, really digging in), and spending even more time in praising Him. We’re talking straight from the heart, over-flowing prayers of thanksgiving for His blessings. I have felt humbled and little before His obvious presence during these times of private worship and prayer. I’ve been asking more frequently for His will for my life to be made obvious to me. I’ve been encouraging other believers. I’ve been in fellowship with my brothers and sisters in Christ. I’ve felt my personal relationship with Jesus grow in strength – almost tangibly so. It’s hard to explain it, but I have felt this week what it means to “stand in the Lord”. I’ve been brought to tears so often at the sheer awesomeness of His hands in my life, and His gift of abundant joy. I acknowledged this. I acknowledge this. And I expect His handiwork around every corner in my life. I expect it….
That has been the difference about this week. He has made the difference. This is why my eyes are seeing things I could not before.
Praise God!
And now that I recognize these things, I’m that little girl again, giddy with excitement. It’s just like I’ve been told a secret again, but this time, I’ve not been told to keep it to myself. It’s the same feeling of excitement at the anticipation of telling someone about a gift that is going to be life-changing. A gift that is free. A gift that is given out of love. A gift that will satisfy all needs and wants. I’ve been given the key! I have the knowledge and the power to share a gift that’s been promised – purchased and wrapped! It is that same exhilarating feeling! I can hardly contain myself!
When you invite Jesus Christ into your heart and enter into a relationship with Him, the secret is yours to share. Your Father knows you don’t want to keep it to yourself. He’s relying on you to tell others. He knows that some will not believe you when you tell them. After all, the gift doesn’t look like the salvation that it is. It can’t really be fit into a neat package. Many will doubt. Jesus Christ tells us this. But he also instructs us to continue in our sharing.
I’m so thankful for the parallel that was revealed to me today, as I reflected on the wonder of proclaiming His name and sharing him with others. I haven’t thought about that Christmas in years, and I’ve never really considered the meaning that time would have on my life now. Want to know what’s even cooler than that, though? God knew that the little girl who was in on the secret many, many years ago would today be praising His name for the blessing. He knew then, that I would be sitting here now in awe of the lesson He put in motion years ago. That, my friends, is who our Savior is. He is all knowing, all caring, all consuming…in ALL ways. Praise His sweet, sweet, holy name!
So want the rest of the story? We’ll have to back up 37 years ago. All of our trips were by car. It seemed like we traveled between California and the Carolinas every other week, but I’m sure it was more like 3 or 4 times, total. When you’re little, time really has no definition! That’s quite a long haul – 5 days or more in the car between locations. Now imagine a wife (my momma) having to stop every couple of hours for a bathroom break. Makes for an even longer trek between the two coasts. Imagine a husband (my daddy) getting tired of stopping “every 5 minutes”. What one thing could he possibly give her for a present that would “change life on the road” as we knew it?
Yep! You guessed it! Dad wrapped up a portable potty for my momma for Christmas. Only, she didn’t believe me when I told her that daddy had gotten her a toilet for Christmas.
Mom was none too pleased with that gift. At the time, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why not.
Their 5 year old daughter couldn’t have been more ecstatic over the practicality and convenience this gift promised. Ahhh, to be that 5 year old girl again!
18 Jun
From Joe
I got a postcard at work today!
What a neat surprise! It was from my new friend, Joe. How encouraging he is! On Palm Sunday of this year, Joe and I had the pleasure of meeting at lunchtime in a local restaurant . What a blessing! Joe sent this postcard from Wisconsin.
“Thank you, Jesus, for our paths crossing. Please continue to bless my friend, my brother, on his continued journey, with a quenched thirst only Your Living Water can provide. Amen.”
4 Jun
Day 276
Today marks 276 days since my oldest son left home.
Left this country.
That’s roughly 39 weeks.
We just had an hour long conversation about his life over there, our life over here, and sunflower seeds.
I am so full of joy and happiness!
We talked, I mean, really talked. It has been a very long time since we connected this way. Many of our phone calls/emails are business in nature, or they are short due to the time difference and activities there or here. Sometimes the connection is just plain terrible, and it’s frustrating to try and decipher the broken speech. But today, we connected, and it was almost like sitting on the couch together exchanging the normal comings and goings of our lives. YAY!
He wasn’t even aware of the gift he was handing to me through his stories of travels and people met.
First of all, he was telling me of his plans to “clean his house”. Clean! He has friends coming over tomorrow, and wants his place to be clean and tidy for his guests.
All those years of chores, and teaching him how to straighten things, dust, vacuum…..
Second, he told me of his excitement over receiving American sunflower seeds in the last package I sent his way.
All those years of Little League Baseball and packs of David’s Sunflower Seeds…
All those years of fussing about the spent sunflower seed shells I would find in the washing
machine and dryer…
Third, he told me of meeting a business man who, upon learning he was American, asked if he liked sauces and subsequently loaded him down with sweet chili sauce, teriyaki sauce, etc.
All those years of getting extra packets of Polynesian and honey mustard at Chic-Fila…
Covering his french fries with mustard…
His love for Italian Dressing on just about everything else…
And fourth, he shared his plan to get a Cherry Tree to nurture and plant before he comes home. He told me of the fresh herbs he finds there growing naturally, “just like the ones that grow outside our front door back home, ma!” He shared how beautiful the countryside is where he was driving last week, and how it reminded him of the United States, of Tennessee.
All those years of teaching him about growing herbs, flowers, and vegetables…
All those years of mowing the grass and climbing trees…
All those years of enjoying the outdoors together…
Today, he gave me the best gift of all. He showed me that the things impressed upon him years ago, part of our everyday for so many years, are surfacing in his new life a world away, and reminding him “home” is a part of who he is, no matter where he is. I think that’s a big fear that parents have when the children “leave the nest”, that the kids will somehow forget all the little things along the way. I’ve always tried to make the normal, everyday things special within our family, in hopes that one day, my sons will look back with appreciation and find comfort in these same things. Little did I know how much comfort I would receive upon seeing these things resurface in their own lives. Pure. Joy.
Yep. Big, big smiles on this 276th day.
2 Jun
God did it again!
Yep, he did it again! Evidence of Christ in my life is so thick, but sometimes, He just smacks me in the face with a big ole’ smile, and like a little kid, I’m giddy over seeing Him at work.
First day of June.
Thinking about a delicious cup of coffee from Krispy Kreme.
As I wait at an intersection, about 20 minutes away from my destination, I get the command:
“Buy the coffee of the person behind you in line.”
This is not an unusual directive.
I’ve done this before.
I don’t do it for recognition, and as soon as I pay and get my order, I scoot away from the store quickly.
But this time, I question:
“Lord, you have me do this sometimes, but I don’t have a card or note or anything that I leave. Is this ministry really working without a note of some sort?”
Look at that! I doubted him!
Immediately, I was reminded of prayer cards I keep in my wallet.
A couple of years ago, when I was going through a little trial, I composed a prayer and printed it on cards, smaller than a business card.
I put these cards in my wallet, in case there were ever times I could share some uplifting words of comfort with someone else.
I’ve never used them that way, though I have referenced this prayer myself many times since.
“But Lord, (note to self: If I start a statement to God with ‘but’, I probably shouldn’t continue) that prayer is one of protection, for peace, and for Your arms to envelope with mercy. What if that’s not what the person behind me needs to hear?”
Did I really just ask that? Our Father KNOWS what the needs are, we don’t. Why did I feel like I needed to remind him of what the prayer said? Just as quick as I thought it, I decided that I would just do what I had been asked to do. And I didn’t think about it anymore until I got to the drive-through.
A small, red SUV pulled up behind me, stopping quickly. A glance in my rear view mirror told me that this young woman was not in a place where she probably needed the prayer I had been asked to share. She was playing music, happily applying some last minute touches to her make-up. She seemed to be glowing and bubbly.
A small silver car pulled up behind her. I only caught a quick peek at the driver, but was instantly filled with the desire to treat THAT person to coffee, not the one behind me.
“Oh, Father, I can’t pay for the car behind the car behind me. That would be too confusing for the Krispy Kreme ladies. But I really feel like the lady in the silver car is the one in need of your touch today.”
As I pulled up to the window, I decided that I just needed to do what was asked of me in the first place. I handed the card and the money to the lady at the register, and proceeded to pay for the young woman behind me. It was “National Donut Day”, so I had ordered a box of glazed donuts to share at the office. Because I needed to wait on “hot ones”, I was asked to pull up a little and wait for them to bring them out.
Oh no! So much for “scooting away” like I normally do. I pulled forward, but could still see the drive-thru window. The woman behind me in the red SUV, upon being handed the card and told that her coffee was paid for, smiled and paid for the lady in the silver car behind her.
Did you hear that? The woman whom I felt strongly needed the blessing, got her coffee paid for!
I could have done cartwheels of joy right there!
As the red SUV girl drove past me, she gave a thumbs up and a big, happy smile.
What an awesome morning at the drive-thru!
God’s plan is ALWAYS perfect. I’m so thankful for His humor, His patience, and His tender ways of teaching us, all the time. Teaching me all the time. Through obedience this morning, I was able to see how God’s plan included the two other women. I was able to again see how my own doubt creeps in there, and has the potential to steal one of God’s blessings from me.
Praise His name, His glorious, perfect name! Make me and mold me, Oh Lord!
13 May
Traffic Calming Device
This week I learned that “traffic calming device” is just a fancy way of saying SPEED BUMP.
Isn’t that funny?
The words “traffic” and “calming” seem like polar opposite things. Traffic makes me think of high stress, long, slow moving lines of cars, trucks, people, ants……and Calming makes me think of scented candles, relaxing music and whatever the opposite of high stress is (I don’t believe I’ve ever reached that end of the spectrum).
It’s so interesting to think about speed bumps, and what exactly their purpose is. They slow us down (by us, I mean me). They are placed to bring protection to not only the driver, but people nearby. Often, they bring protection to the roadway itself, and the environment.
In my younger days, I viewed them as bothersome and “in the way”, and did my best to get as many of my car’s tires around the obstacles as possible. I’ve tried hitting them fast, thinking the quick bump would be less annoying than the slow, yet body jolting, bumpity bumpity as the tires crawl over one by one. It’s not. I’ve even taken longer routes to get from point A to point B, just to avoid a short stretch of speed bump laden roadway.
I’m older now and have found an appreciation for them. Now that I have kids who like to ride their bikes in the neighborhood and throw football to each other across the street, I’ve even thought about secretly installing them in front of my house to slow down our neighbors with lead feet. I realized that although they used to seem annoying, they really serve an important purpose at getting everyone to slow down and use caution – to become more aware of what’s around.
There have been many speed bumps in my spiritual pathway. In the beginning, they caused me to stray off course easily. I would do anything to avoid them. But then there were other times when I hit them so hard, I had to deal with the damaging repercussions as a result. I wasn’t expecting them, or I didn’t see them because my focus was not on the road in front of me. Most of the time, I would throw a hissy fit and all out temper tantrum at the placement of those speed bumps. “Why, why, WHY!!!???”
I’ve been traveling this road for a while now, and am becoming a driver who is more aware of the speed bumps that lie ahead. Some still catch me off guard, but I don’t see them as annoyances anymore. I understand that they are placed in my pathway for a reason, and that makes the slowed pace easier to handle and opens my eyes to see more of what’s around at those times. I know that there will always be speed bumps, and have actually become thankful for them in recent years. I may not always understand the reason for their placement at the time, but usually down the road a ways, I can look back and see how perfectly they were positioned.
Traffic calming devices? Yeah, I can see that now. But I sure didn’t understand it in the beginning.
Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.
James 1:2-3
the toenail 