Makes Ya Want Ta Party a Little Harder…

From a former Muslim young female friend this morning:

Hello Maggie,

I think I’m starting to understand now. You really good at explaining things. Thank you for listining to me. You’re a good person and sometimes I think that you must be an angel that God sent to me. You really helped me alot. [Maggie note:  Most new Christmas will call you an angel.  They can't imagine truth could be so sweet on it's own.  But, it is!]
 
I really want to celebrate christmas, but I don’t think it’s ever going to happen, because of my family. The would hate me if I did that. They still think I’m muslim. I still pretend that I pray to God their way, but I don’t really mean what I say. It hurts me that I have to do that every day, 5 times a day, and go to the mosque every saturday. It’s really painful. I think i’m going insane. Maybe I’m mentally ill, I don’t know: (
 
My biggest wish is that my family accept me as who I am, and realize that Islam is not the right religion.
 
I really don’t know what to do. If I go to a mosque a again, I will die. I can’t stand it. I really can’t. My family is making my live a living hell! Sigh..

Celebrate Christ’s birth if you can, friends.  Celebrate for those who cannot and want with all their hearts to bask in his love openly, to share, and having family share in their joy.  Celebrate.  For He has come to save His people from their sin.

What If Mary Had Been Pro-Choice?

My husband just said to me, out of the blue, “I’m surprised there hasn’t been a bumper sticker yet that reads ‘Just think what would have happened if Mary would have been pro-choice.’”

We’re talking, of course, about Mary, single mother of the Christ-child, Jesus. 

Wow.  I’d never thought of it.

We were just watching the White House Christmas Special.  We were surprised at the lack of…what’s the right word…dignity? shown in some cases in dress and presentation while performing for the President of the United States and distinguished guests.  Seems that dress would be modest and the tone would be respectful, even if fun, light, “wintry”, and cheerful.  You know…it’s winter!  That should lend itself to appropriate dress for such a distinguished occasion.  Short, short dresses?  I don’t get it.  Why provoke wrong thoughts.  Just because you are an entertainer, it has to have key elements of sensuality?  What a culture we live in.  Women want to be respected, and yet, they show little respect.  The two don’t walk together, friends.  They just don’t.  You can’t be sensual and fun-loving and expect to not cause someone to stumble.  And yes, it is half our fault when we do that.  Save it for the one man of your life who deserves it… that spouse you have or may have.

I wonder why can’t we seem to get the tender balance between fun and dignity?  It can be done.  I’ve seen it.  Well, I guess it takes a deep walk, a tender guide, and a sensitive conscience only developed by walking with the One who is Wisdom…ironically, the One they sang about tonight! 

Walk the line, young ladies.  Walk it carefully.  Get to know the lover of your soul, first.  Trust me, you can’t help but think twice about the way you present yourself to others and the message you are sending with your life. 

Balance and Artistry

To be “artsy”, an “artist” of any kind can be a precarious thing.  It can bring irrational focus and vision for something trite or trivial, at times.  A need to “create”, get “it” out, fine tune.  It can provoke time- consuming, unjustified, attention and focus. 

The results?  Beautiful or noteworthy to some, perhaps.  To others, inconsequential.  

The “consolation” of “the creation” takes a lot out of a person.   Therefore, the “it” can be a mixed blessing, like most things. 

The same for all “gifts” or “talents”.  A fine line between grace and flesh. 

I’m not yet good at that balance sometimes.  I have not yet experienced the effortless, joyful dance of a dancer,  the flow of an ice-skater.  I am still the one falling, bruised, battered, tired.   In the flesh.  I pay the price for focus, or over-focus. 

Insatiably drawn to “it”; blessed relief.

Lord, help me surrender all to You.  Keep the “it” a blessing, whatever they day’s “it” is.   

comments are intentionally off for this post.   (thank you so much for reading)

Grieving

The world stops.  News comes.  We try to be near.  Errands need to be run, people need us, groceries need to be bought, school needs with kids, parties to get through tomorrow, decorations today, celebrations needed by the youth.   Other funerals…and…

Oh, Lord.  It’s so much!

Help us when we need to stop. 

When we just need to grieve. 

Like waves it come:  memories, echoes of voices, accents, service, ministry, character, faithfulness, family…children, wife,  marriage.   Friends, neighbors, ministers…we are all speechless and empty and doing well to breathe today.

Oh, our beloved “Jesus”…every Easter play.   I miss that already. My children…all their lives, every year,  saw him hanging on a cross, doing the work of ministry to a community. 

“Jesus”, who peels the potatoes for our Wednesday night suppers.  Who runs to stay healthy.  Who is highly regarded with co-workers and in our small community.  Who had the respect of all, and earned it.

Somewhere close to 50 years old, and so much life left to live.  Oh, Lord.  We don’t understand. 

He son just took a role as our children’s minister months ago.  So much for him left to see.  His son would also soon be married…and oh!  It’s too much.  

Lord, give us time to wear blank faces, and grieve. 

Thoughts of images of the morning bombard the mind, mother, son, daughter, lost in grief.  It echoes. 

How do you go about your day? 

I seek out any verse to help–this is all I have: 

Brothers, we do not want you to…

grieve like the rest of men,

who have no hope.  (I Thess. 4:13). 

Show us the hope of eternal life. 

Hope of your presence. 

Hope of your comfort. 

Hope of your help. 

All of us…grief stricken.

Who Do You Look Like?

 

I’ve posted some long posts lately…enough to keep you busy for a while.  You are probably like me, bookmark ‘em until you have a minute, and…you never seem to have a minute! 

I added some videos through VodPod.com on the right sidebar.  I like them there for my personal use as well as for yours.  iTunes hogs my system, so I get to where I don’t initiate it.  I have purchased all these songs, but it’s sure easier on my system to play them from here than to boot iTunes.   The videos are great.  You can run them from vodpod (click “SEE ALL __ VIDEOS”),then minimize and do other work, or surf other blogs–very cool.  (I hate music that plays from blogs home page and then clicks off when I want to comment, and then restarts when I go ‘back’.  It just kills my little groove.)   

 

I did this Look a Like thing again in honor of the next segment.  Note,  you can exclude the ones you don’t like!  I excluded a few!    If the people who came up with this little test were selling something, I’d probably buy it. 

In other exciting news: someone told me last night that I favored like Julia Roberts.  “I mean this as a compliment, but…” 

Oh, no apology.  I think she’s great.  Pretty Woman had me.  I saw it at a GA or Acteen sleepover at the church as a young teen.  Nobody tell my Mom.  I think we missed a significant part of the story line at that time.  When I told my husband I liked it and we tried to watch it a few years later, well, I got the rest of the story line.  We must have not been paying much attention, or giggling, or something on the whole prostitute scene.  All I remembered was a white horse or a white car at the end and a terrace–you know, the classic white knight in white armor thing.

So, yeah, Julia has like a ga-zillion more teeth than me, and is a good two feet taller than me, and has twice the hair I do, but…you know, there are some compliments you just take irregardless.  And while we are here, I have to say:  I HATED Erin Brochovich.  My husband loved the story line and her tenacity, I couldn’t get over her accent and clothes.  I just had her pegged as a lady and that ruined the whole thing for me.   

Anyway, I used to hear the same rather often when my hair was styled similar to hers.  Last night, the comment was “I don’t think of her when I see you, but I think of you when I see her.”  Unravel that for me.  Probably  means I’m more popular than her, or something.  .  

This is very scientific, too.  For a while, I wore my hair short like Halle Berry’s…people told me I looked like her.  You know, the caucasion, non-James Bond sort of woman that I am!   Go figure. 

This somehow led me back to the fruit of the Spirit.    Yeah, well, hang with me here!  Yesterday, our pastor told us that the fruit of the Spirit was the personality of Christ.  If we want to “look like” him, we will “inherit” the traits of his personality, some over time:  “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.”  (from Galations 5:22-23). 

With that in mind, we were getting ready for school today, and I heard my daughter screeching reprimands at little brother in my ”mommy voice”. 

I said, ”Good grief!  We.  Are.  Working. On. GENTLENESS AROUND HERE!!!!“  {gulp.}

She sounds just like me.  The point is, she doesn’t need to.   She’s not “The Mom!”  I told her that she wasn’t sounding Christ-like, and wasn’t using The Tone for the purpose for which The Tone was created.  

What was the offense?  Well, her little brother had forgotten to put his backpack in the van.  I mean, I never sometimes yell over things like that!  But,…well, “I’M The MOM!“ 

It dawned on me later today as to why the Old Testament Bible prophets had pull with God when they prayed, “Lord, please don’t unleash your all anger full force as you should or could!  The people don’t understand!  They can’t handle it.  Yes, it’s justified, but your reputation depends on your response!  Consider your honor!  Consider your promises!  Have mercy!  Relent!”

I feel God imploring the same of me, The Mom, with the same: “Consider…!”

Yes, I could unleash my fury.  Yes, sometimes, I should.  Oh yes, sometimes, I do!!!   I rarely feel sorry about it with three kids going nuts all the time.

But, I want my kids to look like Him, not like the most beautiful people we esteem today.  For that to happen, this Mom needs to resemble Him herself.  G-E-N-T-L-E-N-E-S-S.  K-I-N-D-N-E-S-S.   Very motivating, indeed.

So, back to actors and actresses: www.heritage.com does these cool look a like tests.  They are fun to run with family members over the holidays if you’ve never done them!  Get your face forward face snap shots ready.  You’re sure to get some good laughs from the fam!  Post yours and send me the link!

Problems/Benefits of STATIC /(or) LEAVES and Beauty

This morning I had an early appointment at the car dealer to try to fix my van door locks.  They stopped working last week.  Flip the button up, flip it down, press the key fob…nothing happens. 

Interestingly enough, the dealer said that this “electrical problem” was generally easy to fix, just a fresh download from the computer, and it will reset.  He said, “Put some Bounce, or other fabric softener dryer sheets under your car seats and car mats to keep it from happening again.  It’s the only thing that will work.  The factory has tried and tried and can’t correct for random static build-up.  Body static alone getting in and out of the vehicle creates enough of a current it over-rides the {amps/volts…whatever} – the electronics just forget their settings.”

I started to think:  my life is a lot like that right now.  My system has been set many times with the right electronics to respond, yet lately there is too much static running through my system, things sliding this way and that, in and out, here and there.  I go for the fresh downloads every day, but alas, there is so much shifting, my memory “forgets” again and again.  When I least expect it, things just don’t work!  No matter how many buttons get pushed…buttons that worked before, they are NOT working today when I need them to!   Arg.

Stress, it’s a crazy thing.

I started to wonder…so what is the “bounce” for my life to put in my back pockets?  How do I protect my circuitry?  I’m in the word, I’m praying, I’m resting, I’m trying to eat well and life well and even eat the chocolate a girl needs under this amount of life!!!.  Still, short circuiting.  Oh, Lord!  I need to just crawl in a hole and stay there!

I think back to yesterday…are there clues I’m missing?  I mean, I don’t know if they are clues to fix anything, but did I hear God?  

On our field trip with the kids, several the ”active boys” wanted to be in my group because when I’m in the class, I try to help the teacher with those kids so that she can rest and be free to help others for that time.  They know me best…off we went.    In our LONG line of kids, I started picking up pretty leaves that had fallen, stacking them together neatly from BIG ORANGE LARGE in the back of my handle to LITTLE BITTY YELLOW POINTY leaf stacked neatly on the front.  It was beautiful.  Everyone commented on it.  They loved it.  I was enjoying it immensely. 

The kids all asked to hold it, but I wanted to get it back to the room in one piece, so I asked them to make their own!   Every leaf was interesting and of value to them.   Actually, they liked the crunchy ones–ones without color at all…of course, I knew those would make a mess and would not keep!  

On the way walking back, I had just a few boys in the very back of the line.  They wanted to give me some more leaves! I was getting picky by this point.  My stack had been held for three hours!.  My hand was cramping from holding them tight.  So, I was even more discerning by then, saying, “No, that one is a bit dry for us to keep.” or “That one is pretty broken up, let’s look for another.” 

I’d let it fall back to the ground. 

A little boy then reached down to the very next leaf in his path and said, “Look!”  I’m thinking he is NOT being very discerning yet!  Kids just don’t listen.  But, they are having a good time.

Out of my mouth was about to come, “Let’s look for another, it’s middle is all torn out…it’s getting dry”.

But, he went on quickly with a smile, holding his leaf way up to my face as we walked, and said ”See, it sort of looks like a butterfly!”

“Yes.  Why, it does.”, tucking it into my hand, behind another so that it’s “wings” wouldn’t get broken on the journey.

When we got back to the classroom, the teacher said she’d use the leaves for a project.  I said, “Oh.  Great!   Um, I just want to take a couple of them Flash picked out to show his Dad how pretty they are!”  (I lied, I wanted to keep the broken leaf).

I fished through for one BIG ORANGE leaf, one YELLOW POINTY leaf, and one torn and broken leaf that happened to look like a butterfly to a 6 year old, discerning little boy.  More discerning than I.  I really only took the others to make it look less obvious, and to protect it as I carried it home. 

Yesterday morning, a friend had bloggged about no longer considering herself ”a moth drawn to the light” as she used to say, but she now more like a butterfly, basking in the light.  I think of the graceful flight of a butterfly, in all it’s flitting, as compared to the mad frenzy of a moth.  Something in that touched me.  Another this week referred to the “process of becoming” using the same imagery of being a caterpillar, just breaking out. 

This year butterflies symbolize hope for me.  It seems that at the lowest of times, I run smack dab into them.  Or they run into me,  en masse.  It’s true.  And people, I don’t collect things.  I mean, I don’t keep groups of ducks and roosters, or angels or collectibles, this is a whole new thing for me–this “repeat exposure” to an object that means something to me.  This visual that needs to mean something to me, something I can’t quite put a finger on, but that I know it is significant for me to grasp.    

I read a magazine while I waited for my van to be de-static-tized.  I saw an advert with a butterfly in the background. 

In the meantime, the mechanic was warning me, you need to get some of those fabric softeners, or this will happen again.  I told him I would. 

Then, my eyes fell to an article that didn’t even apply to me, but it ended in this scripture:    

1Therefore, since we have been justified [made right with God] through faith [in Christ Jesus], we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, 2through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.

3Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; 4perseverance, character; and character, hope.

5And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.  (Romans 5:4-5)

So, yup, life brings inherent static.  But, to get to solid hope, we apparently need us some static.  Faith, hope, and love/the fruit of the Spirit?  These keep our systems running through Christ Jesus our Lord.  

That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Cor. 12:10)

I do not feel strong yet.  I am not “delighting” yet.  I’m rather grumpy, in fact. 

This may require a process of character and perseverance, it may take some patience I don’t have either, but He promises to do the work if we’ll stay the course.  

In the meantime, he has “poured out HIS LOVE into OUR HEARTS by the Holy Spirit whom he has given us.”(Rom. 5:5) 

He loves us.  Like the leaf the little boy saw:  when our middle is all torn out, we’re getting a bit dry, our edges are a little shredded up,  we feel way past our peak and usefulness, probably not worth much more than throwing down for others to hear the sound of crunching under their feet in a brisk Autumn stroll.  

It is at that point,  that He reaches down and takes hold of us, and puts us in his collection.  He may tuck us in between two strong, younger leaves so that we don’t get our wings broken and he can continue to enjoy us.  We ;ook like a butterfly to Him.  We are most definitely “a keeper”!  

Surprised by King Saul

Today is a “to-do” list sort of day.  It’s been good to escape those for a few days!  Daisy didn’t wake until 6:10 today…a fifteen minute “snooze”!  During that precious time, I dreamed I had gotten up late and was rushing out the door or I’d be late for high school!  Good grief!   I woke to COOL temps! Brrrrr!  Back into the house twice for more clothes! 

Cool, fall, crisp weather is finally here!  Sweat shirts, apple cider, and fireplaces in my near future!  Mmmmm.  I may break out an afgan and sit on the porch to read today!

————————————————*

Last night’s Bible reading has me so mesmerized I can hardly move forward with reading.  I’m just STUNNED.  I’ve always focused on “the good guys” reading 1 Samuel.  I looked at Saul from a standpoint of “the enemy”, never really seeing his heart.  Reading from Saul’s beginning, I can see why Saul got to where he did, and it’s very sad.  I’m not sure you can comprehend without a straight read-through of the first eight chapters of 1 Samuel, and it’s so worth it.

We’ve got a guy who felt unqualified, scared, insecure,–the way most of us feel as some point.  Unlike other “leaders” God had chosen, God didn’t set him up to succeed, picking someone who would fail in the eyes of the people, just to make a point.  Set up as a failure…can you imagine? 

No matter how hard Saul tried, he could not win the favor of the people as other leaders had.  He could never measure up. 

God’s spirit was on Saul, but his favor never was.  

Saul, so often worked on man’s timetable instead of God’s, doing things that “made sense” from a leaders standpoint…he just wasn’t fully obedient.  BUT SEE WHY:  Saul’s second war, pivotal for his leadership, Samuel didn’t show up when he said he would.  In the meantime, Saul’s troops dwindled from 3000 fighting men, to a disheveled, 600!  Who wouldn’t try to just seek God, offer some sacrifices to get to the war!  I’m not sure most men would have taken time for God at all…at least he did!  REALLY:  what would you have done?  I think I would have err-ed in the same way “set up” like that.

Doing FOR God is not the same as being GOD’S man/woman!  We saw the same in Samson.

Father-son relationship problems:  Let’s just say that the lack of communication between father and son toward similar goals ended up pulling them apart.   If they had BOTH had God’s glory at center, they would have had one awesome relationship, but they never “clicked” at the same time.  It’s sad.   

Saul:  always trying, and always failing.  Things always falling apart when he needed them to rock and roll.  He can’t seem to do anything right!  Even when he wins, he loses. 

After all that “trying: Saul STILL loses Samuel’s blessing.  Probably the only thing that had him held together if I’m reading right.  And, Saul might have been corrected had it not been for his rationalized confession of sin.  Partial obedience.  Rationalized disobedience.   Ever been there?  I live there!

Oh!  I identify with Saul so many times.  Oh!  My heart aches. 

Saul has to watch young David come into his life with everything he never had, and that which he had lost.  Ever been there? 

Man!  No wonder his heart was tormented!  No wonder he was crazy.  

Yes, God made his point.   No blessing, no power. 

It’s a sad story–like watching a movie where you wonder what character you really would have been, the good guy, or the bad guy, or that you could have been either, depending on the role you were cast.  I challenge you to go meet Saul in a new light.  Sit down and have a long talk.  I guarantee you won’t come away the same.   

Hinds Feet on High Places vs. Level Paths

 

Should a person post if they only have really non-inspiring things to say? 

Good question.

One I am not willing to answer today.

1. I have a headache from over-sleeping the last few days.  But, as hubby says…there is no better way to get a headache.  I love that man!  I would agree.  I’m not taking a Tynenol, because the headache fits my mood rather well at the moment.  May as well keep this one instead of getting rid of it, only to go finding another one that fits my mood.
2. My step-sister came to town this weekend.  I did not get to visit with her because she is going through a divorce and “needs her space”…space I am not willing to give because I think she is making a huge mistake.  So, I don’t go see her.  It just seems to work better with those wanting a divorce…they don’t have a heart to hear anyway.  She just “wants to be loved”…this is the best way I have to love her right now.  And I hate it.  I hate all of it.
3. My step-dad is leaving for Iraq.  This is his last weekend home.  I hate it.  Another Dad leaving.  It just brings back all sorts of crappy stuff I’d rather not discuss.  And, you all know I usually don’t use such language on my blogs, so it is probably pretty intense.  Yup, crappy to the fullest extent of the word, but the Lord seems to be guiding there, so, here we go.
4. A dear friend has breast cancer…still.  Yup, she had it yesterday, she has it today, and my faith isn’t great enough to say it won’t be there tomorrow.  I’m very melted by the whole ordeal.  If you have the faith to pray, please do.  I’m too close to the situation to pray that way.  And that makes no sense, but for me, just the way it is.  I have to move to acceptance.   But, I do covet YOUR prayers.  Is that wimpy?  Is that not praying in a way that doesn’t cost me something?  I don’t know.  Today is not the day to answer that question either.
5. Unspoken. If all THESE things can be spoken, you know I really need prayers for the unspoken. 

Our pastor has called us to extended times of prayer.  I agree with the concept and the importance of it.  But, frankly, that is not going to change the “wait” of any of these situations, and praying is seems too controlling for me right now.  He knows my heart, and either he is working all things for my good, and I can trust Him, walk in it, and go on…or He’s a fake and a fraud, only trying to make life difficult for me.  I don’t believe that, for he is so merciful to me on a daily basis.  So, I can lean on the fact that He is good, all the time…or I have nothing left.

So, where do you add in faith that moves mountains?  I don’t know yet. 

And where does, ”Makes level paths for your feet.  Take only paths that are firm” (Proverbs 4:25-27) , my key verse for our family this season, fit into these mountains around me?  I don’t know that either for sure.  But, He will teach me.   He keeps confirming the verse for me, so that is where I must stay.   I am to make level paths for my husband and little ones–consuming most days to do it well.

Perhaps all the other mountains, of those people and situation near and dear to my heart…are not my mountains.  Not directly.  They can’t be…for I can’t climb them all, and surely can’t carry them all.  They are put there for a reason…scenery?  To build muscle in those who must climb?  I don’t know.

Oh, how they do make a lovely view!  Strong, unmoving, larger than life, glorious, in some mysterious way.

I think of “Hinds’ Feet on High Places” by Hannah Hurnard for these dear ones, and pray that the journey of their mountains is as effective for them as climbs of my journey have been for me in years past–taking me to the Father of the Heights.  May their gentle shepherd be there to help them have “hinds’ feet”…the feet of a deer, as they climb on their “high places”!  I will be climbing with them, at times. 

But, I am not God.  I cannot forge their paths.   But, He can.  And I’ll be praying. 

Focus.  Balance.  Grace.  Lord, help me “get it” and help me if I’m “missing it”.

——-

This has gone long, but a special thanks to those of you who asked about yesterday.  Praise team was so touching and deep and such an effort I cannot describe (read posts below…a team member was diagnosed with cancer this week).  I did lose my music to one of the songs I was supposed to start at one point, and just asked the guitarist to take over…thankfully, I remembered the starting chord, but that’s all I had (a really long “drone” intro for a non-drone song!)  And, during the invitation, PianoStrings was  four times a louder volume than other piano settings, I forgot!   

But, we held it together.  Otherwise, it went well.  Some humor was added to “Lean on Me” (elbow, five!) I’d never heard before (apparently making me very old), but it helped yesterday, and a guy with a sense of humor was added to the team …a huge help to us all. 

God is good.

The baptism of my daughter last night was precious.  I’ll post on that later.   She did great!  The water was ICE COLD, though! 

Blessings, 

Maggie

Write “I Will Obey You” 100 Times

Prisilla Shirer commented on the blog today. 

And that is enough. 

She is a hoot. 

I know…you are thinking, if only she had konked me in the head.

I sure needed an anointed konk in the head today, friends. 

t occurred to me that I can’t do the simple tasks God has given me to do because I’d rather be “in the word”. 

Psalm 119 was my reading today.  Let’s just look at a few things here together:

8.  I will obey your decrees;

17.  I will obey your word.

34.  obey it with all my heart.

44.  I will obey your law.

56.  I obey your precepts.

67.  I obey your word.

88. I will obey the statutes of your mouth.

100.  I obey your precepts.

101.  that I might obey your word

129.  your statutes…I obey them.

167.  I obey your statutes.

168.  I obey your statutes and your precepts.

Note to self:  being a “woman of the word” is a 34 year old Mom obeying her Daddy’s voice, even when it says, “Vacuum and have a clean home for your family”.   Even when I don’t want to.  Obey:  DOING THE GOOD YOU KNOW TO DO.

Sometimes, I miss the forest for the trees…I seriously need a konk upside the head! 

(Just for the record, I ran into Priscilla, probably startling her.  She didn’t “konk” me.  No, it didn’t hurt one little bit!  It was an awkward honor.  Thanks for the sweet comment!  Blogging is so cool!) 

~Maggie

4th of July Thoughts

1. Psalm 34:17
   The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles.
   Psalm 34:16-18 (in Context) Psalm 34 (Whole Chapter)
2. Psalm 34:19
   A righteous man may have many troubles, but the LORD delivers him from them all;
   Psalm 34:18-20 (in Context) Psalm 34 (Whole Chapter)

Luke 10:41-43 (New International Version)

 41“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, 42but only one thing is needed.^[a] Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

Footnotes:

1. Luke 10:42 Some manuscripts but few things are needed—or only one

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I woke this morning as a Martha…and I chose to be a Mary, for a short time.  Now, the two are at war within me.  It’s hard to stay focused on “Mary-ness” with four sets of company in a five day time period.  Lord, in the seasons when we have to work hard, keep close by!  Keep me in the “Mary” place, the cheerful place.  Not the grumpy, self focused, “Do I have to do everything?!” place.

We all have troubles, and worries, and concerns…and the Lord Jesus Christ sets us truly free…from them all.  Now THAT is independence, and I celebrate it!

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My brother is in the military.  He saw his son only two days of his life before being shipped out for his first cruise to Iraq territory.  He was gone for months.  The price he paid was so high. 

When he came home, it was Memorial Day, and I decked the house out in swags on the front porch and on the back patio and tables, so that when he woke for breakfast to go sing with me at church that day, he would feel honored. 

I showed him, and he said, “Why’d you do that?”

I said, “Well, it’s Memorial Day and I wanted to honor you.”

He said, “Now that I know what much of it is about, it doesn’t honor me to celebrate it all anymore, Sis.  I’ve heard too much.”

Perhaps as he gets older, nostalgia will hit, and it will honor him, I don’t know.  But, his cynicism and lost of patriotism affects me every national holiday.  It calls me, not to celebration, but to prayer.  To activism.  How can I make America a better place?

Happy 4th…

Thoughtfully,

Maggie

Ode to Summer-ness

It’s June and I’m just entering summer…what it needs to be, for me.

What it is not, for many people.

Some keep working, keep going, dip a few times in the pool, and they’ve had summer.

I need to sit on the beach, in the sun, in my chair, think some reflective and deep thoughts, read some profound ones, think my thoughts from a bit of a different slant, not think at all, get too hot, get my feet in the water, get too hot again, get my legs in the water, get very hot and wish my head was wet, but not really want to get my hair all wet for fear I will look gross, it will smell like water, and I will need a shower, which would have cooled me off cleanly, inside, much more effeciently, but eventually decide that the water is warm enough and I am desperate enough to dive in, and not really care about my hair anymore, before or after.

Yesterday, my daughter had a little friend over, and I was supervising them VERY closely on the pool slide (not stitches on Red last Sunday).  I got REALLY sleepy before the slide was inflated, had napped some, off and on, laid out, without sunscreen, not because I don’t fear cancer very much, but just because I was too tired and feeling too risky to apply it with my usual diligence.  And it was HOT.

But, I needed to be near Red, so I rested outside in the sun rather than in the cool, artificial air conditioning of the inside.

And after four trial “dips” cooling various bodily regions of marginal effectiveness, I decided that the water was warm enough that I needed to dive in and get cool…and if it was too cold, I’d just hop back out until it was too hot and I’d be okay.

I dove in, three times, yesterday.  And to find that the water was not shockingly cold anymore, and that it was refreshing, and that I could get too hot and too cold and be okay and refreshed was…somehow refreshing.

I napped probably four times off and on yesterday…Father’s Day turned out to be busy and filled with plans for everyone…without me…thankfully.  And I rested.  I slept, and slept and slept.  Thought a bit about rest and only got confused and napped some more.

Went to sleep at 10 with my lonely girl and slept on a mattress, on the floor, my head hanging off it at an unusual angle with blood falling to my head, and just kept sleeping everytime this became an rather odd acknowledgement.

And I slept until 8:30.  I got up, unusually, before everyone else…a new child in the mix now…all still sleeping, praise God. 

It was raining, unforecast.  I pulled the kids bikes into the garage, in my PJs and I got wet, only I didn’t want to be early morning wet.  But, I grabbed my super soft fluffy red robe from winter, and sat on the porch in the summer rain with a cup of OJ, a casual read book, and I read.  And I napped again.

Red got up and tried to talk to me while I was reading and I really didn’t hear much of what he was rambling in that early morning, nonsensical, kid ramble about odd things that happens in the AM.  Eventually, he came up to me and said, “Blah, Boo, Ha, Gug”, and I knew he needed something.  He looked at me.  He needed me now, now that his nonsense made more sense to me than anything he tried to describe in his deep morning thoughts all morning.  I moved my book as he snuggled in close on the short little wicker love seat.  It screaked and popped, but we were comfie.

No sooner had I thought, “This is bliss”, than he held out his arms straight out, toward the rain, spreading them wider and wider.   Then, he curdled, and his little albino back popped. 

He commentated the obvious to me, “I was just stretching”, in sort of a sleepy voice.  He laid there two more seconds, and got up.  I said, “Where are you going?”  He said, “I forgot to pee this morning.” 

Something about a verbose morning, and a hug, and a stretch, and a back pop, helped him remember what he really needed to do.

I can identify.  

I’ve needed a lot of things to “get my stretch out”, and my back pop, and my rest this week.  I’ve gone from thinking I had a lot to say to feeling like I had nothing but the “blah, ugh. eck. la, bleck” left.  And I’ve had what I’ve entered into summer rest where there are just a couple days where there was a “pause, selah”, and no new huge weights to carry.

And it feels good. 

My hair is messy, my kids friends note it. 

They say, “Your hair… is messt!”  And…I am proud of this state.

Time to shed the fuzzy red robe and the wild hair and get cleaned up to make the pancakes. 

Thank you, Lord…for a raining, wet morning when I didn’t want to get wet, but needed to.  And for the oasis of a really slow and precious morning.

Maggie

Willow Creek Worship Arts Conference–Personal Notes

David Crowder above 

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Personal Reflections from Willow Creek’s Arts and Worship Conference 2007:

• Point of HOPE:  The theme was around celebrating “What Is Right With the World”.  As I said in an earlier blog, my “hope tank” needed some enlargement.  I’ve known that for some time.  God met me there.  I was beginning to wonder what “hope” really meant.  And I started to remember.  That’s about all I can say about that.   With hope, that’s about all you need.  I was just thinking that hope isn’t a deep, tangible, easily expressed idea–it is more of–say,  a butterfly you aren’t sure you saw, but think you did, were quickly captivated by it, and felt an urge to chase it to see it again– even though you know that if you touch it, you’ll likely kill it.  If you are fortunate enough to have a camera, there is no way to capture the beauty of the moment…and it will likely flight again before you can even focus, and the light will not seem as true, nor the colors on the wing completely captured enough to describe to someone else.  The magic just can’t be shred.  But, only if you smile, if for that brief and unreasonable chase…that’s hope.   I don’t know how, but it just keeps you going in hard times.  It comes and it goes, we never know when it will come, that flitter of hope we need, but we need hope.
• Point on CYNICISM:  It would behoove us to keep in mind that when Solomon said, “There is nothing new under the sun”…he was having a really bad day.  Later, we also read the God’s “mercies are new every morning”.  That’s the heart of the artist…capturing it, looking for it, knowing it.  Not getting caught up in cynicism and fatigue too long, even when we have a really bad day that brings some really sobering and wise- sounding, perhaps even truly wise thoughts.
• Point of Wonder:  God, who WAS Creator, is STILL creator.  We have gotten old.  He hasn’t.  So, He’s STILL creator.  That is who he is.  So, creation and art are very important to him.  They ARE Him.  So…what if, every day, He says to the shining sun…”DO IT AGAIN!”, with a big smile on his face, still creating works of wonder for our pleasure?  The point?  Facts alone don’t do God justice…we need the arts to awaken our hearts to God.  Creation does that.  Art does that.  Stories do that.  Relationships do that.  We are wired for, not just agreements of theological concepts, but romance, mystery, beauty, creation, newness, freshness, moments of inspiration.    
• Point of Challenge:   Decisions are not always made based on a rational set of bulletted points.  We are influenced to decisions by irrational processes often.  We often justify those decisions as rational when they were mysterious and anything but rational at the time.  This should direct the way we try to reach people. 
• Point of Learning:   When God tells a story in the Bible, He does not then often say, “Here is the point of the the story”, or “Here is the moral to the story”, or “Here is your take home message”.  The stories speak for themselves.  Often, we look for “the point” too much in our own lives.  So, in the same way:  God is telling a story with our life’s ups and downs…put there for creative interest and contrast.  Movies with no tension, nobody is watching.  Take heart.  Let him be a great producer and writer…just cooperate.  Stop looking for the point quite so often.  (God has said this to me so many times this year… it is quite scarey).
• Point of Encouragement:  God wants us to be filled up each day with him…each and every morning, for our tasks, trusting we’ll be refilled for the next day.  Personally speaking, often lately, I start to doubt if He can keep up with the pace of my life!   If I can keep up!  I need to learn to pace and trust more and more and more and more.
• Point of Disagreement:  I did not agree with the way dealing with long term sin was handled from the “emergent” standpoint.  I don’t know if this is inherent to their thinking or not.  I did enjoy some awesome speakers and enlarged my mind.  I am reading a couple books with more of an emergent slant.  However, I do not applaud those who clap to every idea a popular author says.  We need to sift.  More on that at another time.  Tough love is very tough, but it works.  I know that personally. 
• Point of Ministry:  The last day of the conference, a worship leading couple from Australia shared their life pain and how it is a contradiction leading in worship when your faith and strength are spent.  People need hope and energy and you feel “busted up”.  I wept.  I mean, really wept at their whole thing.  I needed it.   I can’t say that there was a take home point, no filling or healing or great wave of understanding, or even any new feeling of favor or love of God…I have that.  Just reality–a need to see it.  Face it in terms of faith.  Cry it out.  I did.   God was reassuring me that He’d just give me the time I needed to cry…, and He did.  I appreciated it royally.  I appreciate time for a good healthy and relevant cry.   It’s a gift.   (An older man in the back of the room pressed his hankie into the palm of my hand and asked me to keep it as a souvenior as I tried to return it for washing, though I didn’t get it too dirty.  I thought it a rather odd word “souvenier”, the word he used.  But, the more I pondered his eyes and words, the more I realized the precious difference in a tissue and a hankie.  Tissues are dispensable, hygenic, and cleaned, hankies are recycled, washes, and personal.  He asked that I just remember him.  We’ve shared tears on the same hankie…I doubt I could forget him if I tried.  
• Point of Tears:  I pray I’m more like a Hanky than a Kleenex.  See ”Point of Ministry” above.  
• Photos:  Click here for my photos

I’d love to hear about what “spoke to you” and discussions from your group.  Link here for me to follow your writings and posts.

Singing Love Songs

Today has been one of those days.  I keep checking email, hoping there will be some great message of deliverance which will bail me out of the utter chaos of today.  8PM and I was cramming down a hotdog and sour cream and onion chips with a bottle of left over lemon water cold in the fridge, feeling guilty about taking a minute to eat with so much still undone, wondering how in the world it seems all my main tasks still need doing.  I’ve combed through “the head” four times with utmost diligence today…shocked at how long, and how many times, this process of “cleansing” takes. 

I still haven’t had a good cry, and boy!  Do I ever need one.  I need to wear a t-shirt to praise team tomorrow that says, “Warning, volcano on the verge of eruption!”  I think someone would actually be doing me a big favor by setting it off, but “Woe to him through whom it comes!” 

I still need to vac and shampoo this level, it’s taking forever for bedding/towels to dry in my dryer, so personal family laundry is still needing to be done for the last week.  A friend told me tonight that she found this from August this year until January.  Oh.  My.  Goodness. 

I think I’m going to collapse after two days.  Apparently, it doesn’t stay to quite this level if you stay on it…I’M ON IT!

Anyway, while I was dogging down my nutritious hot dog (typically one of my very least favorite foods of all time, but these were ballpark hotdogs, and tonight, it tasted especially good), I said, “I need a fresh word.  I don’t have time for a fresh word.  Perhaps I should put out an APB for one…any word would do!”

The verse sprang to mind immediately, taking shape, my mind pulling it out even as I was trying to decide whether or not I wanted to do that again (I’ve done it once before, and that time…it was fun to see the responses).

from, is it Zephaniah?  “He will take great delight with you.  He will rejoice over you with singing.”

I caught a vision on this beautiful Saturday of the Father God working in his garden, trying to make up a song about me, causing his eyes to sparkle with glee, and making me glow with embarrassment and delight…acting like I didn’t hear Him, not wanting to make him feel self conscious but Him knowing I was there all the same, as He always does. 

Isn’t it amazing to think that, on our worst days, the Lover of our souls is glowing with glee about us?  Can’t get us off His mind?  Is so…excited about the next time we will sit together and share company?

Well, that thought improved the hot dog considerably to, and even caused me to slow down…and to smile at his antics, all to make me smile. 

Many times I hear people say, “Oh, just crawl up on the lap of Jesus and let it all out.  Let him comfort you.”  Well, you know, I just don’t have time for that kind of petting today.  I need to WORK!  And HARD!  He knew that…and he knew it wasn’t working for me…that image…and He began to sing a humorous, silly, love song, just as my husband sang to me as he walked in the door yesterday from work.  I don’t remember the song.  I just remember that he was in a spirit of fun-loving joy, even after a REALLY tough day, and that, today, God showed me what a picture that was of what He does every day…singing “over me”.

Oh, everyone reading this probably knows this love already…but if you don’t, you can!  Let Him love on you.  Contact me if you are having a hard time feeling it.   It’s so real and so refreshing and so fun.

Maggie

Sticky, Icky–Blek, Blah

Have you ever been plodding along at your own pace, totally oblivious, having a grand ‘ole time–then suddenly feel the smack upside the back of the head which points rather obviously to you that you probably totally and royally offended someone?  They won’t say, make excuses, give the silent treatement, or back off.   They are terse or short, or shut down to you?

Isn’t that fun?

You want to make things right, but you are totally confused.  And perhaps things need a bit of time for clarity.  You say something to let them know you value them, but feel they’ve probably written you off and are perhaps even mouthing off, which creates a whole ‘nother tital wave to deal with.  Not Biblical, I know, but let’s just say, “attitudes happen”.  

In considering personalities and differences, you are not entirely sure there is anything proactive you can do about it, even if you try to handle it “scripturally”…pounding it to death until there is PEACE, GOSH DARN IT! 

So, you pray, “God, I don’t know your timing.  I don’t know how to do this.  But, I value this person, and your method of process.  So, can you totally fix this?  Show me what reaches them.  I know I can’t fix it.  The “1-2-3-we’re-done-and-now-smiling-from-ear-to-ear-in-sweet-unity” formulas just aren’t going to work.   I need You.”

I’ve had one of those situations on my heart the last day or two.  Totally consuming every thought.  I feel like a heel. 

I’d really like it off hearts before this awesome weekend, and have several tasks I need to hit before day’s end I’m having trouble getting done until “The Thing” is out of the way.   I’d appreciate any intercession available today. 

perspective

You know, God has a way of bringing things into perspective, even if there were some things we needed to gain.  Have you read of marathon runners who must do the battle of the mind just to continue training and running the race at critical points.  At their lowest, weakest, point, that is when they must simply. keep. running. 

There is nothing else. The goal is to run. 

They don’t have to feel good about it.  They don’t have to feel good at all.  They just can’t give up.  One foot in front of the other. 

We don’t want to live in a state of exhaustion, but there are those parts of chronicled marathons for nearly every runner I’ve ever read about.  And they press on.  Press through.  Keep going. 

That spirit.  That drive.  That fortitude. 

In that moment, it doesn’t matter if they are first or last…what matters is that they don’t give up.

That’s sort of where I found myself yesterday.  Just insisting on going.  Perhaps not the best, or the greatest or the strongest, but with fortitude and pace and purpose.

We all hit slumps in the race.

Yesterday, my husband stopped back by the house and brought me one of my favorite things in the whole wide world…some huge, red, ripe strawberries.  I had already eaten breakfast, and my daughter broke into them.  (It’s thrilling to have a daughter who likes the same things you do…until it comes to the ice cream stash, and the chocolate stash, and the strawberries!  HA!)

Later that morning, hubby calls me again.  He says, “You know that strawberry patch we went to last year.  They say it is the only one around with any berries at all this year because of the freeze.  Oddly enough, they’ve not raised their prices.  Do you want to take the kids and go again?  We probably shouldn’t go on Saturday, that will be a big picking day.  Do you want to cut short and go today?”

I’m thinking:  “You.  Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding.”  I’m in my whole “thing” on wilty grapes and not feeling up to par…the last thing on my mind is picking berries.  But, the man sounded so thoughtful about the whole things that I just let him keep going.  I told him I’d let him know later in the day as other plans came into place.

Well, we drive 45 minutes or so, get there about 6:30, they are already about ready to close down for the day.  The farmer man says to us, “Now, you have to pick through.  After the few days of that late, deep, freeze, we just weren’t going to open at all.  But, people kept calling for what we have, and so, we are open.  Just keep looking, and find what you can.”

Acres and acres of strawberry plants, all dotted with the effects of a freeze.  The fruit wasn’t as big, and there were more bad spots, but we searched and searched and searched.  Between the five of us, we got probably four gallons of strawberries.  They aren’t as sweet, but we can put sugar on them.  As we picked, hubby said to me…”you know those strawberries I brought you this morning?  Goldilocks said they were all watery.”

Wow. 

And, in all that picking and searching and effort, God spoke to me again about fruit.   Not sure I can even write this down it’s so fresh to me.  But, I’ll try.   That says to me that sometimes it not the quality of the fruit, it’s not the beautiful leaves, the quality of the fruit, or even the bounty. 

Sometimes, it’s the scarcity that makes it ALL valuable…even more valuable than it would be otherwise.  People WANT it.  They will PAY for it.  Keep the fields “open”. 

So, keep shining for him, even if you are feel a little less than optimal.  You are still a rare gem worth searching for.

If that’s not enough pure goal to just make you smile, yesterday, I got a comment from a new friend checking up on me and my “grape status”  (see yesterday’s post ”Empass-ing”).  As I went to get ready after reading, I wondered about the whole “grape thing”.  I laughed about decaying grapes and thought, “Well, a day or two past their prime, at least they still smell good?”  It was a dumb thought, but I had it.  And then, a thought came to me which seemed inspired.  It said, “Hand eating is not all grapes are used for,  you know.” 

And, that is true.  And the grapes have to be withered and bruised and decayed a bit for other purposes. 

Could it be possible that in all that feeling of deflation and exaustion and lack of purpose…that God is raising us up for another purpose.  Not to be thrown away or discarded, but to be held and allowed to sit and soak and become something entirely different.  Entirely intoxicating. 

I think there is much use in “fruit inspection” as far as it relates to our own lives.  I have some areas to fine tune as a result of that day.  But, I also know my value, and yours, today, tired and weary runner.  People are still seeking the light, and we have it.  Invaluable, even when our fruit feels “a day old”.  I praise God!!!  I hope you do, too.  Thank you for your prayers, patience, and kindness, friends.

Love,

Maggie

My husband’s homeplace, at the farm, beautiful dusk-light