Tuesday, February 11, 2020

What of Good Luck?



Image result for images of good luck charmsFour-leaf clover, rabbit’s foot, horseshoe from the barn, 
Wishbone, even black-eyed peas, all these have luck’s good charm.

Good Luck! We shout to those we know, entrenched in tests of skill.
Good Luck! We hope for those whose hearts are set to climb the hill.

Cross your fingers, close your eyes, make a wish and blow;
Don’t wait too long, wish on a star, good luck is there you know.

Don’t walk under a ladder – No! And don’t step on a crack!
Bad luck is there, be mindful or you’ll break your mother’s back.

Ten long years of luck undone in broken mirror shards;
Your future told of good or bad in talismans and cards.

Luck ‘O the Irish, Leprechauns, and all such magic things;
We’re told of wondrous luck and wealth all these to us will bring.

I wonder if ‘tis luck at all or choices made at will?
Is luck the thing that guides my feet to riches or to nil?

Do I not choose which path to take, decide what’s right or wrong?
Those choices made, good and the bad, to me must all belong.

Not luck, I think, our future rules, but One who bids us well.
In Him we find the choices that will keep us out of Hell.

If suffering comes, tis not bad luck, instead a chance to grow;
To understand that He, not luck, is Sovereign of this show.

No lucky charm can truly bless or guide our steps for good;
The look, the sound, the feel of luck deceives us like a hood.

He gives us skill and aptitude to make our own lives bright;
We’ll trust in His design for us and look to Him for sight.

Our future’s too important to trust in a lucky charm;
Eternity’s a choice we make, in that we’ll find no harm.

So let’s expect the best from Him, we know He wants to give;
Though life is hard, we need no luck, for in His truth we live.


Sunday, March 24, 2019

Friends, Get Ready!

Wow! I have to start with that. I just did something I've never done before. I scrolled through my friend list on Facebook, taking time to look at each face, and suddenly I had tears forming in my eyes and trickling onto my chin. So many dear faces--faces I know and love well. Faces I see regularly and cherish, but also faces that I rarely see, and yet are no less beloved. Faces I recognize but don't know well; faces I don't know at all; faces of those I have never met and don't know anything about except what they share on Facebook. And yet, every single face blessed my heart, because every single face represents someone who is loved by God. Even those faces that may not know God or who don't follow Him and have not accepted His free gift of eternal life are loved by Him. Because that's what He does--He loves us unconditionally. He lives and moves and works in us and through us and around us, even when we don't acknowledge Him. He is our creator and our Father--even if we don't choose to believe that. He continues to love and longs to be recognized and accepted for who He is--the Creator of the Universe and the only true and living God.

As I continued to scroll through the faces, I saw so many that have already gone to their Heavenly Home, and that escalated the tears. So many that I miss seeing, even if I rarely saw them--just knowing I could see them was a comfort. But now, the reality of knowing that I won't see them again until I go to where they are, is so, so hard. But it's part of what keeps me strong in my faith that what God says is true:

My purpose in writing is simply this: that you who believe in God's Son will know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you have eternal life, the reality and not the illusion. (1 John 5:13 The Message)

This is how much God loved the world: He gave His Son, His one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in Him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life. God didn't go to all the trouble of sending His Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again. Anyone who trusts in Him is acquitted; anyone who refuses to trust Him has long since been under the death sentence without knowing it. And why? Because of that person's failure to believe in the one-of-a-kind Son of God when introduced to Him. (John 3:16-18 The Message)

The truth is here: whether you believe in God or not doesn't make Him less real. I believe with all my heart that God is real; I believe with all my heart that The Bible is His Inspired Word, sent to give us an instruction manual for life; I believe with all my heart that Jesus was sent by God to give each and every person an opportunity to reconcile with God and spend eternity with Him. But I know that there are many who do not believe what I believe. And so, I can't help but ask this question: What if I am wrong? What if I die and there is nothing beyond that, or there is no Heaven or Hell, at least not the version the Bible describes? Does that mean I wasted a lifetime of believing? I don't think so! It only means that I lived a life that was focused on faith and truth and goodness, which is not a bad way to live, is it? And I can't imagine any kind of afterlife that could be as bad as what is described by the Bible as Hell, so even if I'm wrong, I have nothing to lose. But then I must also ask this question: What if the Bible is true and those who die without belief are cursed to an eternal agony of darkness and fire, with no hope for relief? Not because God hates them and wants them to suffer, but because God is the essence of love and truth and goodness and light and peace and comfort--It is impossible for Him to be in the presence of sin and unbelief. That's why He sent Jesus to die in our place and take the sin of all mankind--past, present and future--upon Himself and remove it from us. It was the only way we would ever be able to enter into God's presence. Jesus literally went to Hell for us. But the good news is--He walked out of that dark place victorious! He defeated death--not just for himself, but for all who will step out in faith and believe it. 

So the choice is ours, because God will not force Himself on anyone. Do I want to live in faith that what I believe is true: Jesus has already paid my price for being an imperfect being, which offers me the security of an afterlife that will be spent in a place where there will be no more tears, no more pain, no more suffering? And knowing that even if I am wrong, I have nothing to lose? Or do I want to choose not to believe and take a chance that I might be wrong and end up with tears, pain and suffering for eternity? 

I guess looking at all the dear faces of my Facebook friends reminded me that there is a whole world of people out there who are simply friends we haven't met yet and that each and every one is precious to God. But how will they know who God is or how to experience His Love unless someone tells them?

My friends, I love you. I love you because God loves me. I love you because God loves you. I want to spend eternity with you in His presence. This is the time to search your heart and find that God-shaped hole that was placed in you on the day you were created. That place that has caused you to search, looking for something that will fill the longing to feel complete and whole and loved. Many of you have already found that peace that comes from trusting God, even when He is unexplainable and impossible to understand. Even when He works in ways that are mysterious to us and foreign to our human minds. That's what faith is: Confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.(Hebrews 11:1, NIV)

But believing in God is just the beginning. If you truly believe in God, then you must believe He is the truth, just as the Bible says. Which means believing in God is only the beginning of a path that was laid out for us by Jesus. Jesus came from the perfection and peace of heaven, to earth--knowing in advance that He would suffer, but also knowing that His suffering would be the only way for us to avoid eternal death and separation from God. He was willing to endure that because of His love for us, but also because He lives in obedience to His Father. How can we do any less? His example has shown us that life on this earth will include suffering, but He has also secured for us the promise of a new life in a place where there will never be any suffering.

Today my Facebook Friend List has become more than just a list of names and faces that represent my popularity. It is now my prayer list. So be on your guard because you may find some powerful things coming your way!




Saturday, March 9, 2019

Dream and Re-Dream

Image result for drawings of winners crossing finish line
The other night I kept "re-dreaming" something over and over. I have had recurring dreams before, but usually in the dream I revisit, I am trying to change the ending. This dream was not like that. It was the same dream with the same result every time and each time I would wake up wondering what it meant and then fall asleep and dream it again. It was a dream about running a race, and each time I would end the race and be declared the winner. And then each person who finished the race after me would also be declared the winner. I remember thinking this is a great dream--unless you are the first winner, and then it sort of feels like a nightmare--and yet, it doesn't.

After a few repeats of this, I began to wonder if maybe God was trying to tell me something. Maybe I have been treating my life like too much of a competition--like I need to be better than other people in order to be a winner. My brain is still playing with this. Wouldn't it be just like God to say to me, "you are the winner!"even when I can clearly see that I wasn't the winner? Such a thing would make perfect sense to Him, wouldn't it?

Isn't He the same God who said something like, "the first shall be last," and also something like, "you must look up before you can see what is down?" Well, maybe those aren't direct quotes, but I think the essence of the meaning is correct.

Jesus taught about how it is perfectly fair to pay two men the same wage as was promised, even if one man worked a whole day and one worked only an hour. He said things like, "if someone asks to borrow your jacket, let him have your shirt too." Such a strange way of thinking--if you're human.

We work so hard to be first and be best and have more and do more, and somehow we think that is what defines us as winners. But I think we have it all wrong. I think God may have been trying to tell me in my re-dream that none of what I do makes me a winner. I am a winner because God declared me a winner the moment I professed my faith to be in Him. Not that there will be no losers--there will be losers because some will not received God's free gift; some will take their eyes off the prize, which is Jesus. But those of us who remain faithful? First place winners! Every one. Wow! Sort of bends your mind, doesn't it?

Wednesday, November 14, 2018

The Wart Family Christmas 2018, Episode 3

"Mama, why do we have new decorations this year? I liked my little white poinsettia that I wore between my ears!" Little Angelina looked questioningly at Mama Wart, and fiddled with the new beaded wreath that now sat on her little head.

"Oh, honey, that old poinsettia was falling apart, as was mine. We were definitely due for something new, and I think Grandma Sue came up with some lovely new looks for us! Just look at the boys! Hiram and Harold have not just one little ball on their tails, but a whole bouquet of red balls that shimmer in the daytime AND the nighttime. They are having so much fun showing them off. Even Papa Wart got a new little spring of greenery added to his favorite cap, and I couldn't be happier with my beautiful new wreath that looks just like a halo on my head!"

"But Mama, why do things always have to change? Why can't things just stay the same all the time? I think change is scary, don't you Mama? It makes me feel like I never know what will happen next." Angelina scooted just a little closer to her mama.

"Why, of course change is scary, sweetheart! But can you ever remember a time when we had a change that didn't turn out to be for the best? Just think about last year and those crazy Christmas lights that somehow got wrapped around and around us, but yet, we ended up having a good laugh about it."

"That was pretty funny, wasn't it? Well, I guess you're right, Mama. When Grandma Sue moved us to this apartment, I wasn't sure I would like it here, but everyday I get to watch people walking by below our balcony, and Mama, did you know that there are some really strange people out there? I know Jesus loves them all, and I try to love everyone too, because I want to be like Jesus, but there are some people that are really hard to love, aren't there? "Angelina looked pointedly at her two brothers, Hiram and Harold, who by this time  had become bored with running around trying to catch each other's tail, and started focusing on annoying Angelina.

Mama laughed. "Yes dear, there are lots of people who are hard to love, but you are so right to say that Jesus loves them anyway, and we must try to do the same. Boys, why don't you both go find your Papa and see what he's up to -- you might be missing out on something fun!"

"Aw, Mama," Hiram replied, "Papa is doing the same thing he is always doing -- taking a nap!

Harold added, "I can hear him snoring from here!"

"You are so right, boys, I can hear him too! But you know what I think? I think you just need to go in there and tell him it's time for a change and that you want him to take you for a walk to show off your new Christmas style!"

"You come with us, Mama. He might get mad at us for waking him up! You know how grumpy he is sometimes."

"Oh, all right, let's all go together, shall we? I have an idea. Let's sneak up on him and sing, 'What Child is This!' He can't get mad at us for singing such a beautiful song, and since it's a song about sleeping, it will be perfect!" The children all laughed and jumped up and down at the great idea Mama had. It wasn't often that they actually got to wake Papa up -- Papa loved his naps.

As they got close to Papa, Mama looked at the kids and they all started to sing together,

What Child is this, 
Who laid to rest
On Mary's lap is sleeping?
Whom Angels greet with anthems sweet,
While shepherds watch are keeping?

Papa began to snort as he tossed and turned, trying to figure out who or what was disturbing his sacred nap time. But as he fully awoke and heard the beautiful music coming from his family, and saw their angelic faces, his heart melted and he quietly sat and smiled as they finished the song.

"Family, that was the loveliest serenade I have ever had! It was worth being awakened from my nap to hear you all singing about the Baby Jesus. You have just put me in the best Christmas mood ever!" And with that, he gathered them all in close and put a big kiss on the tip of each of their noses!

Amid all the laughter, suddenly Papa was heard to say something that forever removed Angelina's fear of change. The change in her Papa was not one she would soon forget. "Family, your voices are too good to keep to ourselves. I say we go down the street and sing Christmas Carols for everyone we meet! What do you say? And then we can stop for hot chocolate before we come back home." Papa smiled his biggest smile ever as he looked at the astonished faces of his family. "What? I mean, we have new Christmas outfits, we have Baby Jesus to sing about -- what more could we ask for? Let's go share all this change and excitement with the world!"

And sure enough, that's exactly what they did. As they huddled up and headed for the street, their voices could be heard loud and strong, singing, 

O Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining, it is the night of our dear Savior's birth.


Friday, August 31, 2018

When Did the Word “Christian” Become an Adjective?

Do you ever stop to look around at today’s Christian culture and wonder why anyone who is not a believer would ever want to be part of it? We seem to have developed a whole sub-culture of Christian music, Christian schools, Christian stores, Christian concerts, Christian conferences, Christian retreats, Christian jewelry, Christian magazines, Christian books, Christian television, Christian radio, Christian movies, etc., etc., etc. We have surrounded ourselves with all things Christian. We are slowly creating an environment that minimizes our interaction with people who are not yet followers of Christ. Why? Why would we want to do that if we are really trying to become more like Christ? Did He spend all His time in the synagogues teaching religious people, or did he go through the countryside, ministering to people and showing them genuine love? Did He not go to the rejects of society and offer hope? Did He not spend His short life on earth teaching that Christianity is not about who WE are, but about who HE is?

“We need inspiration! We need training! We need encouragement!” Christian people clamor. Yes, we do, but for what purpose? What are we doing with our fresh inspiration, our expert training and our motivating encouragement? Talking about it with our Christian friends? Savoring the way it makes us feel? Thanking God for the experience? Are we really trying to provide opportunities for people to find Jesus or are we instead looking for ways to “protect” ourselves from evil and experience a spiritual “high”? Does the church offer what we need to help us be on the offensive as we go out into the world, or does it encourage us to “circle the wagons” as if we were trying to keep out the enemy?

Jesus went on the offensive against the enemy, defeating him at every turn. If His Spirit lives in us, do we have any reason to fear evil?
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:37-39, NIV).

If Jesus were to return to earth today, would He would make a tour of churches telling Christians, “Well done, you have been my salt and light in the world!” (Matthew 5:13) or would He look around at the neglected, hurting people of our world and say to us, “What have you done to share my Good News with these lost children of mine?”

The Christian environment we have created can serve to provide Christians with the tools they need to go out into the world and share Christ. Instead, our inclination seems to be to savor those experiences, to talk about them, or even debate them. We may protest what we are taught or give our support, depending on whether the teaching aligns with our understanding of scripture. We organize groups to rally behind our beliefs to “show the world” our collective voice. These are not necessarily bad pursuits if our motives are to create an environment that will show the love of Christ. However I fear that many times, while we are engaged in our passionate pursuit of making a point, people all around us are dying without Jesus and we are too busy to notice.

The people of this world don’t care whether we wear a cross around our neck. They don’t care that we can sing all the words to the songs on the Christian radio station. They don’t care that our t-shirt has a picture of nail-scarred hands or a catchy Christian phrase. They don’t even care that we can pray for hours and quote scripture. What they care about is whether we care about them. Are we willing to step out of our comfortable Christian environment and step into their world? Do we care enough to show love and kindness and forgiveness to the unlovely, the mean-spirited and the hateful?
For in Christ, neither our most conscientious religion nor disregard of religion amounts to anything. What matters is something far more interior: faith expressed in love. (Galatians 5:6, The Message)

Christians hold a precious gift that has been offered to all men – eternal life. Yet so often we hoard that gift as if it were ours to keep. Christ compels us to move out of our pews and into the streets. He commands us to stop “playing church” and “go into all the world” (Matthew 28:19-20). When we go to a Christian conference, do we take what we’ve learned and use it to build His Kingdom, or do we simply sign up for the next one “because it was so inspiring?” Does Christian music move you to compassion for your neighbor whose dog barks all night, or does it just drown out the noise and help you deal with your anger? Do the scriptures you quote come from a heart of love or condemnation? Should we not take to heart these words of Paul in Colossians?  
24-25I want you to know how glad I am that it's me sitting here in this jail and not you. There's a lot of suffering to be entered into in this world—the kind of suffering Christ takes on. I welcome the chance to take my share in the church's part of that suffering. When I became a servant in this church, I experienced this suffering as a sheer gift, God's way of helping me serve you, laying out the whole truth.
 26-29This mystery has been kept in the dark for a long time, but now it's out in the open. God wanted everyone, not just Jews, to know this rich and glorious secret inside and out, regardless of their background, regardless of their religious standing. The mystery in a nutshell is just this: Christ is in you, so therefore you can look forward to sharing in God's glory. It's that simple. That is the substance of our Message. We preach Christ, warning people not to add to the Message. We teach in a spirit of profound common sense so that we can bring each person to maturity. To be mature is to be basic. Christ! No more, no less. That's what I'm working so hard at day after day, year after year, doing my best with the energy God so generously gives me.  (Colossians 1:24-29, The Message)

The Church seems to be evolving into a place where those who don’t know Christ don’t feel welcome. Is that what He had in mind? The Church is Christ’s Body – a body that was broken for all men (1 Corinthians 10:15-17). As members of that broken body, we are compelled to make The Church a place where all men can find forgiveness, hope and salvation. The church must be a place that welcomes the lost and sends out the saved.

Perhaps we could strive to be worthy of these words Paul wrote to the Thessalonians in chapter one, verse 3 (NIV),
We continually remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.

Thursday, May 10, 2018

Born Identity


Whenever I talk to women, I find that most of them are battling an issue that I believe has been trying to beat women down for a long time. I find that most of us are confused about who we really are, what our role in society is supposed to be, and how our lives can have significance. I think the women of America are in an Identity Crisis.

Starting at a very early age, we are inundated with messages about what it means to be a girl. At first these messages seem simple and clear – girls wear pink, girls play with dolls, girls cry, girls wear dresses, girls are pretty, girls will be moms someday. I know when my granddaughters were pre-school age, they had a simple answer to the question of how boys and girls are different. They would simply say, “Boys are stinky!”

 Once we start school, however, that picture starts to blur a little. The lines become less defined. The rules seem to bend a little more. We become a little less sure exactly what our role in life is supposed to be, but we are pretty sure what we want it to be. I have 7 granddaughters and although they are all more grown-up now than I’d like them to be, there was a time when everyone of them would get all starry-eyed when the princess in the movie got married to the prince and they embraced in a kiss.

Then adolescence hits. The hormones are telling us one thing; society is telling us another thing; our parents’ voices are ringing in our heads, as well as the voices of our friends. Who should we listen to? Who has the truth? From this point on, the confusion of who we are as females, what is expected of us and why we are here becomes almost overwhelming. I pray for my granddaughters in this stage of life, because I remember how difficult my own life was in those years.

As we pass through each season of life, we can all find reasons to be angry. As we focus on ourselves, it will always seem that someone else has the life we want, or the body we want, or the job we want, or the family we want, or the spouse we want. We will be filled with discontent. We will no longer know who we are outside the context of all the roles that define us.

We live out this lack of identity in great insecurity, feeling that around each corner disaster awaits because we are unable to be what others need us to be. We will surely fail because we are not pretty enough, not smart enough, not good enough. We feel a growing sense of fear about what the future holds for us, knowing that we are only growing older, weaker and less pretty. Each day we have less to offer to our families and to society. What if we completely lose our usefulness?

We also live out our lack of identity in an overwhelming sense of inadequacy. We feel unable to measure up to those around us. As we compare the beauty or the skills of others to our own, we feel inferior. As we witness the accomplishments of others, we feel insignificant in the big picture of life. As our sense of worth deteriorates, we fear we will be rejected.

As our insecurity and inadequacy threaten to drive us to despair, we find that there is one way to survive. We become insensitive. We pretend it doesn’t matter. We become driven to learn new skills that will help us stay competitive. We do whatever we have to do to preserve an appearance of youth. We become overly-focused on self improvement, which serves to further highlight our inadequacies and insecurities, and the whole process feeds off itself, as we sink deeper and deeper into the question of “Who am I really, and why am I here?”

We can all relate to at least some part of this downward spiral. Women seem to have a universal bent for seeing the worst in themselves and dwelling on their weaknesses. Unfortunately we tend to compensate for those feelings by also noticing and pointing out the weaknesses of others.

Women are losing their grip on who they were created to be. I think this is greatly due to the changing perception of who Mom really is and what she should look like. Over the years of my life I have watched a steady stream of motherhood role models march across my TV screen. Thinking back on my childhood, I grew up in a time when most people believed that moms should be home with their kids and not out in the marketplace. We saw this perceived role portrayed on “Leave it to Beaver”. Hopefully there are at least a few people out there who are old enough to remember the Cleaver family. Each day when Wally and Beaver came home from school, June Cleaver would be waiting in the kitchen, ready to greet them with an after school snack, and hear about their day.  Women of that era found some identity with what they saw in June Cleaver, and yet, I don’t think it answered all their questions about their role in society.

Another TV Mom that came into our living rooms, shaping our ideas of motherhood, was Marion Cunningham. How many people remember Mrs C from the TV show “Happy Days?” Mrs. C wasn’t quite as serious a mom as June Cleaver. She gave us the feeling that moms should be fun and maybe just a little crazy – after all, what normal mom would allow a hoodlum like “The Fonz” to live over the family garage? This mom made us laugh at times, but she also gave us the feeling that most of the time she was somewhat clueless about what was really going on with Richie and Joanie. She was entertaining, but I don’t think most women really identified with Mrs. C as a role model for motherhood.

Then before long we had “The Brady Bunch.” Carole Brady seemed ready to solve any problem the kids might be facing, but, of course, she had help. Alice, the faithful housekeeper, was also there to pick up where mom left off. Watching Carole and Alice in their sort of “tag-team mothering” must have given some women the subconscious thought that moms deserve hired help. It was almost as if there were two moms in the house.

Then a new TV mom appeared on the scene and looking back at that time in our society, it seems to me that a shift in our perception of motherhood began to take place. We began to get messages that moms can have it all. Being a mom didn’t necessarily mean you had to give up being something else. It was possible to be a mom and still have a successful career. This was played out perfectly in front of our eyes on “The Bill Cosby Show” as Clair Huxtable skillfully directed her household, nurtured her children, built a successful law practice, and met the needs of her doctor husband. She was perfect --perhaps a little too perfect. She opened up a whole new world. The question is: was it a real world or a TV fantasy world?

Today we see magazines filled with stories and photos of celebrity moms and our confusion about the role of a mom grows even greater. Our country is facing an identity crisis among women. Where can we find our true identity?  Of course, we are intelligent enough to know that what we see played out in television sit-coms is not reality, and yet, often those shows contain just enough reality to make us wonder. What if? What if I had a husband who made lots of money? What if my children always listened to my good advice? What if I had a home with a spacious kitchen and a housekeeper to keep it spotless? But then we compare the what-if’s to the reality of life and we tend to lose hope that we will ever have the kind of success we expect to have.

Perhaps this is why we are so fascinated with the so-called reality shows that seem to dominate our TV screens today. We watch the “real life” scenarios on the tube and somehow find some sense of relief in knowing that we aren’t the only messed up people in the world.

So how do we climb out of this abyss of insecurity, inadequacy and insensitivity? How do we gain a healthy perspective of what a successful woman really is? Where are we to find our true identity?
We have to start with reality. Not the kind of reality we see on reality TV, but the kind of reality that’s real. The reality that teaches us that our value comes from being created in God’s image. The reality that our significance is evident in the fact that when we separated ourselves from Him in sin, He was willing to sacrifice His Son, a part of Himself, to make it possible for us to be reconciled to Him . The reality that we leave behind a legacy as we use the life He’s given us to serve His purpose, and that purpose has no dependency on whether we are a mother, a career woman, or some combination of both. He created us to serve Him by making a difference in the lives of other people.

What does all that really mean? How can we, as women, live lives that have value and significance and also leave a legacy beyond our lifetime -- because isn’t that really what gives us identity? Isn’t that what helps us define who we are and what our purpose is?

 I think God gave us the perfect formula for answering these questions by including in His Word a letter from a mother to her son. Some woman are intimidated by Proverbs 31, but what we have to keep in mind is that this is not a description of an actual woman, but rather a list of attributes that the mother of King Lemuel wanted him to refer to in his search for a wife of noble character. These verses are a formula this mother gave her son to help him move past his hormones and his chemistry to look for a woman with true value. I believe it is God’s intent that as we become women of noble character as outlined in these verses, we will also display our true identity in Him! Below is the Sue Wilson paraphrased version of the Proverbs 31 woman:

 A woman of value is trustworthy, generous and kind. She looks out for the best interests of others. She is a woman who makes the best use she can of the talents God has given her. She works hard at whatever task she’s been given. She wants to make her home a place that welcomes others. She reaches out to those in need. She does all she can to prepare for the future. She ages gracefully, not in bitterness. She speaks with kindness and wisdom. She lives in a way that earns respect. She is humble.

I think we would all agree that a woman like this is one we could admire and appreciate. A woman like this has no reason to feel insecure, inadequate or be insensitive. A woman who displays these characteristics is a woman of value, who has significance and who will leave a legacy for future generations. But you may be thinking, “Yeah, right! I could never be all that!” Well --me neither, which is why we are going to try and simplify the whole thing a little more.

Look at Titus 2. This passage is part of a letter from Paul to Titus outlining his leadership role in the church. I think it also speaks to us as it begins in verse 3 by saying , “Similarly, teach the older women to live in a way that honors God. They must not slander others or be heavy drinkers. Instead, they should teach others what is good. These older women must train the younger women to love their husbands and their children, to live wisely and be pure, to work in their homes, to do good, and to be submissive to their husbands. Then they will not bring shame on the word of God.”

Although this verse refers to “older women,” keep in mind that no matter what your age, you are older than someone. What you have to ask yourself is whether or not younger women can look at you and see the attributes it talks about here. Is the church body respected because of what they see in you, or do you give Christianity a bad name?

I have always been fascinated, but also dismayed at the ability of women to smile at someone in their presence and then rip them to shreds behind their back. I love being a woman, but I hate this part of us. This type of behavior does not display the identity of Christ. As we scrutinize our behavior, we find so many clues that we are still searching for significance in the eyes of the world instead of recognizing that we already have significance simply in being daughters of the Creator of the Universe. The way we look, the things we do, the places we go – everything about us should be a reflection of who we are in Christ, not who the world thinks we should be.

Look at 1 Peter 3, starting with verse 4: “Cultivate inner beauty, the gentle, gracious kind that God delights in.”  Then let’s skip down to verses 10-11, “Whoever wants to embrace life and see the day fill up with good, here’s what you do: Say nothing evil or hurtful; snub evil and cultivate good; run after peace for all you’re worth.”

Isn’t that truly what we want – to embrace life and see the day fill up with good? We can have that by cultivating good instead of evil. We can have that by following the example of the life of Jesus. We can have that by finding our true identity in Him.

Once we have accepted the reality that our true identity comes from living in the humility of being simple, genuine and unpretentious, we can find freedom from insecurity. As we live out God’s purpose for our lives by making a difference in the lives of others, we will be filled with a sense of worth. We will know that we are valued by the Creator of the Universe and that no matter what anyone else thinks of us, His opinion is all that matters.

We will also find that, in this true source of identity, we will be completely adequate to meet whatever may come our way, because the Bible tells us that when we are weak, He is strong. His strength is sufficient for all that we will face. He will be our wisdom when we don’t know what to do. He will help us take the next step when we feel paralyzed to move ahead. 

As each of us learns to embrace the uniqueness of who we are in Christ, we will no longer find ourselves insensitive to those around us, but we will instead be filled with a desire to reach out to them; to share the love of God with them and to embrace the many ways He will show Himself in them; to rejoice with them in victory and to weep with them in times of trouble. But even more than that, we will recognize that this IS our identity; this is what we were created to do — love others with the love of Jesus and share with them the Good News of our forever life in Him.


Tuesday, March 20, 2018

Sue's Saga of the Day

Well, I was going to make a Facebook post, but I decided this was more of a saga and would be more appropriately presented in a blog, so here goes:

I decided I needed to convert a dress into a long top and was halfway into that project when I realized I didn't like where my sewing machine was located. So I stopped the Dress Conversion Project to move my sewing machine to a different wall in the same room.

This, of course, also meant the relocation of where some things were plugged into the wall. 

As I assessed that issue, I determined that all my electronics, which are located in the same room as my sewing machine, would be much more aesthetically pleasing if they were inside of my desk drawer, so as to hide all the cords a little better. So I began making those changes, which is no easy task -- it requires a fair amount of rolling around on the floor with my head under the desk.(And then, of course, there is the issue of getting back up off the floor...) 

In the middle of that task, there was a knock on the door, and I was elated to see that the new wheels for my small carry-on bag had arrived from Amazon. I had spent some time a couple days ago figuring out how to replace them and what to order. Normally, these parts would be ordered from the luggage manufacturer, but my bag is an older model and they no longer sell the parts, which is not just the wheels, but the wheel housing as well. I knew, after researching online, that I could replace just the wheels, but it would require drilling out the wheel axle, which was riveted into the wheel housing. I had spent a few hours trying to do that and was close to getting one wheel done, when my friend, Mike Pape, stopped by to deliver a table he made for us.(He is a master with wood, by the way!) I noticed He actually had a manly drill, unlike my little girly one, which prompted me to ask him if he would be so kind as to help me with the Drilling Out of the Riveted Axle Project. He graciously agreed and was able to complete the drilling in no time. Of course, I am now fraught with drill envy..... Anyway, that all happened a couple days ago and I was anxiously awaiting the arrival of my new wheels so that I could reassemble the wheel housing with the new wheels and axle. Let me just say here, that in case you have ever wondered, like I have, why your luggage lining has all kinds of zippers and velcro in it, I now know the answer to that question. You have to get under the lining to remove important screws when you replace things like wheels. Okay, that's just a side note for those inquiring minds out there. 

When the wheels arrived at my door, I completely forgot that I was ever doing anything else and went right to work on the Install New Wheels Project. That turned out to be a bigger job that I expected because the new axle had a bigger head than would fit into the recessed hole it needed to go into. I knew ahead of time that this might be a possibility, and that if necessary, I may need to drill out the hole a little bigger to accommodate the axle head. So I promptly began to do just that. Again with the drill envy (maybe Santa will take note...) ! Anyway, it took a long time to get the hole big enough, but eventually I was able to drill out the hole, insert the new axle and wheel into the wheel housing and reattach the housing to the suitcase, reinserting all the screws I had removed. Yay! It worked and the suitcase rolls like a new bag! I am beaming with pride!

Then as I walked back to my office, I noticed the Dress Conversion Project that was still waiting on my new table in the living room where I left it when I decided to move my sewing machine.

And then I remembered that I was also in the middle of moving all the plugs for the electronics as well. That's when I started to laugh. I had actually had three projects going at the same time! 

And of course before I could finish either the Plug Moving Project or the Dress Conversion Project, I was now compelled to tell someone about it, which as everyone knows, is best done in a blog. So, there you have it. Sue's Saga of the Day is born, and you are lucky enough to get to read all about it!




Saturday, December 16, 2017

The Wart Family's 2017 Christmas Saga



The Wart family have moved to a new home, so they are still getting used to the place. Today when Grandma Sue started putting up Christmas lights, Angelina got so excited she began to run around and around until she became hopelessly entangled in little strings of lights! Mama Wart was concerned that little Angelina might fall and hurt herself and tried her best to untangle her daughter, 
but unfortunately, it was not so easy, and soon Mama found herself just as tangled up as Angelina. By this time the boys, Hiram and Harold, had noticed that being tangled up in light strings actually looked like a lot of fun, so they started rooting through the lights and rolled around on them until they were both tangled together in lights. They were snorting and laughing so loudly that Papa Wart woke up from his nap and came to see what all the noise was about. "What's going on here?" Papa snorted as he took in the sight of his entire family wrapped up in little white lights. "For heaven's sake, what is the matter with all of you? Hold still and let me get you out of this mess!" To Papa's dismay, the more he tried to untangle his wife and children, the more the light strings worked their way around him as well, and soon he stood there, staring at what had happened. Mama was about to cry, because she was just sure that Papa was going to be angry and snort loudly at them all. Little Angelina began to inch her way a little closer to Mama, and the boys were eerily quiet, which almost never happened. But then, the strangest thing happened! Papa did begin to snort, but they were laughing snorts! Quiet and slowly at first, but then working up into full-blown hog-sized laugh snorts that could be heard all over the neighborhood. His family stared at him in shock, as he was able to squeeze out a few words, "You should see yourselves! You look ridiculous! I have never seen anything so funny in my life! And look at me! I look as ridiculous as you do!" The boys began to giggle and soon they were snorting kid-sized laughs to match Papa's. The next thing they knew, the whole family was heard laugh-snorting by everyone within ear-shot, and as people stopped to listen, they could hear Papa Wart shouting, "Merry Christmas to all and to all a de-LIGHT-ful night!"






Monday, October 30, 2017

Lead On!

I have to preface what I'm about to say by assuring you that I am not a theologian. I don't know Greek and cannot tell you the detailed history of what was happening when the pages that became The Holy Bible were written. But I am a reader of the Bible and a believer that it is the inspired Word of God. I believe that The Bible is one of the ways that God communicates with us and reveals to us who He is.

As hard as it is for our finite minds to fathom, I think the Bible is pretty clear that God is God -- but Jesus is also God; and the Holy Spirit is also God. God is three in one, and yet, when I arrive in Heaven, I don't expect to see a three-headed creature sitting on a throne. I believe that God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit will each be there entirely individual, and yet entirely one. Don't ask me to explain how that is possible, because I can't. I just know that the book I believe to be the Word of God says that is nothing is impossible for God.

So when the Bible says, "In the beginning was God," then surely in the beginning were also Jesus and the Holy Spirit. As I said, I am not a theologian, but my simple logic tells me this must be so. I can imagine that Jesus was happy in Heaven. He was one with His Father, He had community with beings who adored and praised Him. But there came a time when the Father knew He must make a difficult choice. He must ask His Son to sacrifice all that He was and all that He knew for the sake of beings who were unworthy of that very sacrifice. The beings the Father had created on earth to love and adore Him would be lost to Him for all time unless the Son was willing to make this sacrifice.

Of course, the love of the Father was also in the Son, so that love compelled the Son to be the sacrifice that would build a bridge between God and man -- the bridge that man had broken in the very infancy of his existence. But it was not just love that compelled the Son to descend from His rightful place beside the Father, it was also obedience. He was obedient because He trusted His Father.

So here I go: What is it in my life that seems unfair or is hard, or that I don't understand, or that I don't want to do because it hurts? Why do I often find myself face to face with the confusion of pain and sorrow? If God is the God of the impossible, then why doesn't He take this away from me? Why doesn't He put me where I want to be, or do what makes me happy, or remove whatever is causing my pain? Doesn't He care about me? Perhaps we should also ask, "Did He, does He, care about Jesus? Couldn't He have found another way for His plan to be accomplished without the pain that Jesus was forced to suffer?" I don't know the answer to that. All I know is that He did what He did because it served His Plan. Therefore, I choose to assume that He also does what He does in my life because it serves His Plan. He sometimes allows me to suffer and He sometimes gives me victory. It doesn't matter which way I go because I trust Him. I know He loves me. I know that whatever path I find myself on, whether or not I chose that path willingly, I am there because God has allowed it. If God has allowed it, He has a reason for it. In His time that reason will be revealed to me. Until then I am compelled to walk on in faith and believe He will give me the same victory that He gave to Jesus. Until then I must find a way to love even those who would do evil to me. I must see the world and the people in the world through His eyes and recognize that even in their imperfection, they are reflections of the same God that is reflected through me, in spite of my own imperfection.

The Bible compels me to strive for a life that reflects Christ; a life that is sometimes filled with pain and confusion and a lack of understanding. But it also compels me to live a life of faith. Faith that God is, was, and always will be in control, and that I can trust the promises of His Word to be true when they tell me He loves me, He will use all things for my good, and that He was willing to let His Son suffer to prove it to me. So when there are times I must walk through where I am to get to where He wants me to be, then so be it. Lead on. I know a victory awaits at the other end.

Friday, October 27, 2017

The Beauty of Community

Recently I had the humbling experience of receiving a ceremonial footwashing by more than 100 women. As each one knelt in front of me and offered words of love and encouragement, they handed me a single long-stemmed rose. I was overwhelmed and moved to tears by this outpouring of their hearts. I was also left with a beautiful arrangement of roses in varied colors! When I got to my home and began to sort and arrange the roses in a huge vase that had been provided, I found that in the process of transporting them, a few stems had broken. I was determined that no matter what the condition, each rose would be proudly displayed in my home, so I carefully cut a few more stems to the length of the broken ones and gave these shorter stems their very own vase, where they could be a thing of beauty on their own.

As I often do, I saw God showing me a lesson in something as simple as a bouquet of roses. I began to think how like those roses women are. Each of us beautiful as individuals, but gathered together, we are a sight to behold! Some of us are strong and healthy, standing boldly for what we believe in and supporting one another. Some of us are broken and feeling lonely and worthless. But that is when the miracle of love is strongest, as a few of the strong reach down to the broken, surround them, and once again make them strong in the beauty of community.

Sunday, October 9, 2016

Why Bother With Christmas?

As we approach mid-October, I am reminded that the days between October 1 and Christmas Day always seem to pass by like the blink of an eye. Below is an article that I wrote a few years ago to remind myself not to let the stress of the holiday season blind me to the joy of what it is really all about.

Why Bother With Christmas?


“What night are we going to get together with the kids to have our family Christmas?” My husband asked as he walked through the room, barely stopping to hear my reply. Staring at the ink-filled squares representing my life for the coming month, I tried to formulate a reply, which came out more like a desperate plea for help. “From the looks of the calendar, I think we’ll be waiting until New Year’s. We have something going on every night in December. There are all the church group parties, our friend’s parties, our small group caroling, the ladies’ cookie exchange, the elders’ and wives party, the staff party, and then of course, the 12 Christmas Eve services. I don’t see any way we can get together with the kids in the middle of all this. For one thing, I haven’t had time to do any shopping, and after I find time to do that, I have to wrap everything. Somehow I have to get the decorations up before the pastors’ wives party, which reminds me – when can you put the lights on the outside of the house? And I need you to assemble the tree so I can decorate it!”


For families in ministry, this conversation may ring a familiar bell. For most people Christmas is a time for family, perhaps attending a Christmas Eve service together before gathering around the Christmas tree. For a pastor’s family, celebrating Christmas can hold a unique challenge as family time must compete with a myriad of church obligations. Our family has celebrated Christmas on Thanksgiving, on New Year’s, or anywhere in-between, but rarely do we have the time – or the energy – to celebrate on Christmas Eve.


As our church has grown, so have the number of Christmas Eve services. In our household, Christmas Eve has come to be synonymous with multiple services and spending Christmas at the church building. A few years ago, my husband discovered that many people were torn between attending Christmas Eve service and being with family. In an effort to allow them to do both, he began to offer Christmas Eve services on December 23rd, as well as December 24th. This addition has been surprisingly well-received and it seems every year the services for both evenings are packed with those who feel a special need to reconnect with the Christmas story and still have time to be with family. For us, it’s a time of great blessing to see so many people gather, knowing that many only have this one chance to hear of God’s amazing love. But finding time – and energy -- for a family celebration in the midst of all this has become an annual challenge, especially now that all three of our grown children are also in ministry, with families of their own -- and in-laws to factor in! Each year we juggle our schedules to try and find time to make it happen.


In spite of what could easily be termed “a hassle” by some, our family has found that the joy of Christmas is always there, waiting for us, no matter when we celebrate it. It may not be on Christmas Eve, or Christmas morning, or even on Christmas evening, as it is for many families. But the moment we gather together we are reminded why we make the effort as the real meaning of Christmas finds its way into our hearts.


I’ll never forget one special Christmas, as our family carved out some time to share in the Christmas celebration. We decided to dig out some costumes from the church props closet and prevail upon the children to perform a reenactment of the first Christmas. As you can probably imagine, a gathering of our three children, their spouses, and our 11 grandchildren is often accompanied by what borders on chaos, and this night was no different. It was an effort to corral squirming kids to decide which costume best fit whom, and referee arguments over who would play which part. When at last we found ourselves ready for the big event, my husband read the Christmas story from the Bible. As parents and grandparents we gathered around, watching the transformation of rowdy little boys into regal wise men and a dignified Joseph. Excited and giggly little girls suddenly became curious shepherds, glorious angels, and an extremely maternal Mary. One wiggly little baby was surprisingly willing to be still long enough to be the baby that brought the purest of all love into the world.

Amidst much flashing of cameras and parental pride, we were all struck by the importance of what really took place, not just on this make-shift stage, but on that long ago night. A night when another Father watched as His Son was cradled by humanity. These children whom we love were acting out a love of another kind, a love that brings us to our knees as we try to grasp the meaning of the words of the angel, “For unto us a Son is born.” As we watched our children in their rag-tag costumes posed before us, we were reminded once again that Christmas is not about a day on the calendar – it’s about a living God and a love that transcends our understanding.

This was the Christmas card we sent out in 2005. That little baby "Jesus" is now 11 years old and nearly every one of these children are taller than me! But this image will always be one of my all time favorites and hopefully these children, many of whom are already young adults, will never forget the time they were transformed into a living reminder that Jesus is the Reason for the Season!

Thursday, May 19, 2016

Why I Decided Not to Host My Own Cooking Show


Today, as I was trying to make several different recipes at once for a special celebration of our family, I began to get frustrated because things just weren't going well. Then I thought about how I came to the decision to give up cooking (obviously, I was having second thoughts about that decision, because here I was, frantically trying to chop, stir, and layer, all at the same time). I remembered that when my children left home I needed to make a decision about cooking and considered the pros of cooking in a home with no children:
  1. I would get to lick all the bowls and spoons myself.
  2. I wouldn't have to share any of the finished foods if I didn't want to.
  3. I wouldn't have to listen to complaints about how it doesn't taste like so and so's mom makes it.
But then I had also weighed the cons:
  1. I would gain a lot of weight.
  2. I wouldn't have anyone I could force into cleaning up my mess (and I am a really messy cooker -- see photo).
  3. Most of the time I mess up the recipe and it doesn't taste like I used to make it.
So then I thought about my options. My first option would be to have my own TV cooking show -- this would allow me to:
  1. cook whatever I wanted, plus the ingredients would all be pre-measured and ready to pour into the bowl or pot or whatever..
  2. be as messy as I want because someone else would get paid to clean up my mess.
  3. not be stressed out about gaining weight because other people could eat part of whatever it was so that I wouldn't eat it all myself.
It didn't take long to rule out this first option on the mere fact that I am not that great a cook and probably even if someone agreed to let me go on the air, no one would actually watch the show.

So that left me with option #2 which was to give up cooking in any formal sort of way (hotdogs and grilled cheese sandwiches don't really count.). This would mean that:
  1. I could spend more time making reservations at restaurants around town.
  2. Someone else would get paid to clean up my mess.
  3. I could invite someone to dinner and they can eat whatever they want.
This is obviously the choice I made -- it's a no-brainer! Why, oh why, do I keep second -guessing myself like I did today? It always ends up with me being really tired, the food being mostly so-so, and nobody really caring that I made it myself! Sigh. 


(And then there's that thing about gaining weight, which seems to be a factor no matter which choice you make....)

Friday, December 11, 2015


Tribute to Reba:
My Mother Lost Everything, But Gained What Really Matters....

My mother died yesterday, just a few days short of her 96th birthday. Three years ago, she moved from the home where I grew up. This was the home where she had raised her children; the home where she and my dad had lived for most of their married lives; the home where she thrived and made a difference in her community and served her Lord for over 60 years. The place where she waited to welcome her children home as they came to visit from the lives they had carved out for themselves after leaving her care. The place where she took joy in welcoming grandchildren and great-grandchildren as they stopped by on their travels across Kansas. She came to Arizona to start a new chapter in her life, knowing that it would be the last of many chapters she had lived. I was thrilled to know that for the first time in my adult life, I would have my mother living near me. My other siblings had all lived near her at some time after leaving home, but not me. She would often say things to me like, "you remember so and so or such and such, don't you?" I would have to remind her that I had not lived in my home town since I left for college, and no, I did not remember any of what she was referring to. The last three years I have grown in a relationship with my mom that I never had before. As a child, I saw her as demanding and critical, and yet, I always knew I was loved -- that she simply wanted me to be the best I could be. As an adult, living far from her, she was often my place of refuge. I could run to be with her when I needed an escape from the demands of my life at home. She was always there to let me return to being a daughter, and I could briefly escape the expectations of all the other roles I had to fill. When she moved to Arizona, of course, she continued to be my mother, and at times that was difficult for both of us. She had her way of doing things and I had mine. Quite often, I would defer to her ways -- sometimes out of respect and sometimes out of frustration. She began her life in Arizona splitting her time between my house and my brother's house. She basically came to Arizona because my brother and his family were moving here, and my siblings and I all agreed that she could not remain in her current situation without one of us close by. We tried to fall into a pattern of sharing her, but it became more and more difficult for her to settle in when she had to pack a bag every week and move from one house to the other. She was feeling lost, partly because "her stuff" was split between two homes, and partly because she didn't really feel like she was AT home in either of our homes. She missed having her own home. It was difficult for us as we tried to meet her needed expectations to be comfortable here, and eventually we all just settled into the compromise of doing the best we could with the circumstances we were in. I loved that I was able to spend time with my mom regularly, but it was hard knowing that she wasn't really happy. We would talk about it and many times we laughed and cried in the same conversation, as she did her best to try and make someone else's home her home. She was a great help to me because she loved doing laundry and cleaning up minor messes around the house. Most days she would have my dishes cleaned up before I was even finished using them! My mom was a woman who loved to work. She loved house work and she loved yard work -- both of which she had spent her life doing and had taken great pride in doing it well. Somehow, that gene did not pass on to me, so I was only too happy to let her do whatever her aging body would allow her to do. At times it was annoying, because if she was not able to do it, she wanted me to do it, and she wanted me to do it NOW. But that was her creedo; do what needs to be done, do it immediately, and do it well. Not a bad precept by which to live, if you think about it. But then the stroke came. Not totally unexpected, but certainly unprepared for. Suddenly, everything changed. No longer could she tolerate the stress of splitting her time between my brother's home and my home. No longer could she fold laundry or do dishes or write notes to the dozens of people that she regularly communicated with through the U.S. postal service. Slowly she began to lose control of all the things in her life that she loved to do. Slowly she had to learn to depend on help from others to do even the simplest of things. We began to work at finding humor in stroke recovery. Things like "if you can't get your pajama bottoms off and there is no one in the immediate area to help you, just pull the scissors out of the bathroom drawer and cut them off!" Or things like, "beware that you don't try to eat your finger because you mistake it for part of your toast!"  As days turned into months, it became obvious to both she and I that she needed more help than I was physically or emotionally capable of providing. So once again, she had the burden of letting go of the "new normal" that had been so hard to accept. She stepped into the life of a group home where, although she was loved and well-cared for, it was not her home. She had good days and bad days, as we all do, but for her, the bad days became increasingly bad as her health declined and her spirits sagged. She found joy in the relationships of those with whom she shared the home and initiated the formation of a daily Bible study for those who wanted to participate. She encouraged the other residents to trust in God, and she worked at taking her own advice. Time became both an enemy and an ally as each day was a gift, but also something to be endured. Day after day, she would proclaim her readiness for God to send his golden chariot to take her to His throne. Yet our time is not God's time. She was living in a time of loss. Loss of possessions, loss of physical health, loss of loved ones who passed before her, loss of control of everything in her life. She had to depend on someone else for her every need and also be willing to submit to their timing in completing those needs. Watching this happen to my mother was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. Knowing that it will most likely happen to me sometime in my future is the next hardest thing. Accepting the fact that God designed humans to enter the world with nothing and leave the world with nothing has become clearly focused for me. When I think of all the things my mom struggled to let go of when she moved to Arizona, then all the things she struggled to let go of to move into her group home, and finally how she had to let go of everything to enter Heaven, I am slammed with the perspective of all my possessions. I now have in my home possessions that were my great-grandmother's, my grandmother's, my mother's and mine. That is a lot of stuff that will eventually belong to someone else when I make my final move to Heaven. Some of those possessions are so cherished that I find it hard to imagine ever not having them. But I am at the same time hit between the eyes with the realization that none of it will matter when I see Jesus face to face. He really and truly is all I need -- in this life and the next. All the time spent on this earth is given to me to teach me that truth. There is nothing I possess that will have any usefulness whatsoever when I step into the presence of the Almighty God. I don't say that because I plan to rid myself of all earthly possessions and live in a cave until He comes for me. I truly believe that God wants us to take joy in the earthly life He has given us. But I now have a more full understanding of what it means to live in the world without being of the world. I realize that clinging too tightly to the things of this world is a waste of time and effort. I have learned from my mother that, as hard as it is, loss truly becomes gain in the end.
1 Timothy 6:7 For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it.

P.S. I found the following notes that I had written at the time of Mom's move and thought it appropriate to add them as a post-script to the above tribute.

A few weeks ago I was driving across southwestern Kansas, something I've done many times in my lifetime, but this time it was different. Passing by town after town, each holding specific memories of people or events from my past, it suddenly occurred to me that I may never have a reason to pass that way again. I drove by the town that holds the graves of ancestors I never met and thought of stories about them that I have read in family history books. I passed by the town where my mother grew up; the town I knew as a child to be where my grandmothers both lived. I remembered days spent there as family members gathered for reunions. I passed the town where my cousins lived and remembered times I stayed at their home and met their friends.I passed by towns I traveled to as a teenager, cheering on our school teams in various sporting events. I passed by towns where boys lived that I met at church camp and remembered how it felt to have a crush on someone who never gave you a second glance. As I drove, the tears flowed freely down my cheeks. On each side of the road, I passed field after empty field, each one at rest for the winter. I marveled at the way the horizon stretched into the distance on each side of the road, remembering how we were always able to see the lights from a town 60 miles away on a clear night. Passing only an occasional pick-up truck and seeing the motorized sprinkler system that looked like mini-bridges spanning field after field, my mind was occupied with thoughts of change. Soon I would have nothing to draw me back to this place of memories. As I drew nearer to my childhood home and remembered that soon it would become the home of some other family, my heart was filled with emotion. The excitement of the coming transition, mingled with the anxiety of the change was nearly overwhelming.

I was on my way to help my mother with the final preparations to relocate to Arizona. She would be leaving behind a lifetime of memories and a home she had lived in since 1949. As hard as it was for me to face this challenge, I knew that her challenge was far greater. Her life was about to be reduced to a truckload of belongings. She was leaving behind the place she and my dad had spent their lives, building a business, raising a family, supporting a community and being part of a church family. She was leaving the graves of loved ones, including my dad, in a cemetery that she would no longer be able to visit when she felt the need to do so. This was a big deal. And yet, she was up for it. She faced it bravely and with few tears. Of course there were times of looking back with longing for what was lost forever, but still she marched into her new future with a strength that many women half her age would not possess.


I only hope that I can face my unknown future with that same strength and trust in God's plan for my life.

Friday, October 9, 2015

Been Thinking

When was the last time you set your mind free? By free, I don't mean you did something fun or relaxing, I mean you did something that was mindless -- something you can do without thinking about what you're doing, therefore leaving your mind free to go wherever it wants to go. In today's culture our minds are constantly engaged. We go from device to device, and our mind is constantly required to focus. Perhaps you're thinking, "but I play video games, that's pretty mindless." Really? Maybe so, if you have absolutely no intention of winning, but I think most of us play to win, which requires us to pay attention to what's going on. Let me illustrate. 

I have a condition called Restless Leg Syndrome (RLS) which takes over my body when I get relaxed and requires me to get up and move. I won't take time to try and explain it, but if you really want to know more you can Google it and find tons of information. Anyway, sometimes I get to the end of my day and I realize I have forgotten to take my RLS medication during the day, which allows me to relax and go to sleep at bedtime. You see, it is when I start to relax that the evil RLS activates and requires me to get up and move around, so I need to take small amounts of medication all through the day, keeping my body from allowing the RLS to activate. It's on such days of forgetfulness, which is probably due to being "connected" on one of my devices, that I have to do something which will require me to engage my mind so that I will not relax. I have one particular computer game that does just that, and whenever I am plagued with insomnia due to this condition, I know that I can play that game and it will require a connection with my brain to keep it occupied until my medication kicks in and helps me settle down. So in other words, playing games is not really all that mindless. Our brain is engaged in what we will do next so that we can win. 

Today, I was cleaning my refrigerator. Why, you ask? I know, its not something most of us do frequently. But here is the story leading up to the "cleaning of the fridge." My fridge basically died -- well, the computer board in the fridge died, so it had to be removed and sent off to be repaired, which meant the fridge was unusable until the part can be reinstalled. So, I had to move every thing out of my fridge and into the "spare fridge" in the laundry room. That was when I noticed that my kitchen fridge was absolutely filthy. I don't even remember the last time I cleaned the inside of it. While it was full, I really didn't notice the sticky, gooey shelves and the crumbs that had fallen onto the shelves and into the drawers. Once empty, however, it was painfully apparent that I had neglected it. 

Cleaning the fridge is a mindless job. As I removed shelves and drawers and washed and dried them, and wiped down the entire inside of the appliance, I realized my brain felt free. My thoughts were just wandering from thing to thing and moving around in my brain like they haven't done in a long, long time. I started thinking about how differently I live than the way my mother lived. My mother never neglected to clean out her fridge. It was a part of her job as a homemaker. She took her job very seriously and it included making sure every inch of her home got cleaned on a regular basis, keeping all our clothing clean and in good repair so that we always had something ready to wear, making sure the children were disciplined and kept their things orderly, having meals prepared and served at regular times and being supportive of my dad as he provided the means for her to do all this. I began to wonder if I really take my job as a homemaker that seriously. I have piles of things to be done here and there around the house, and for some reason I never seem to get to them. I sometimes go to bed with dirty dishes in the sink. I don't always make my bed. My husband sometimes has to remind me that he needs clean underwear, and "would you please do laundry?"

Thinking about that, I wondered why I'm like that. I didn't start out that way. I started out doing things the way my mom did them and tried to follow her example to keep my home orderly and engage with my children and prepare meals. But, at some point, that began to change, and if I'm honest with myself, I think that change started creeping in about the time I got my first "device." I discovered the world of the internet and it seemed so much more fun than taking care of my home and my family. It was a whole new world where I could explore and connect and shop and learn and create, etc. But I can see now it's a world that keeps my brain constantly engaged so it is never free to just think whatever it wants to think. It doesn't get a chance to ponder. 

Instead of filing a stack of papers, or washing the dishes, or folding the laundry -- all jobs that I can do while my brain thinks about other things, I tend to sit at my computer and focus on things that require my brain to be fully engaged. I didn't realize how taxing that was until today. It was almost like I could hear my brain "sigh" with relief when I started to clean my fridge. "Finally, she's doing something that I don't have think about!" 

So, here I am, writing about something that my brain conceived while it was free to think. Imagine that.