Marking the River

A river courses through the land below. Watching it from the airplane window, I wonder how many times the banks have been reshaped. How many times has silt pushed together to create new land or been pushed further down the stream to deepen the path.

Life has changes. Every day is different. I start with my calendar in place, noting the events, people, places and plans. It syncs up with my map and with materials gathered to take me through the day in a productive and orderly fashion. Yet, for all of my planning there can be a series of changes, small and large that completely move the course of a day from its expected path.

Ecclesiastes three talks about moving of things in our world happening at the time of God’s choosing. I read the words and the list below, a time for this change and that change; a time for this bank to be reformed, a time for that river to be depended. The words at the top though, those are a reassurance that in drought or flood, the everyday meanderings occur in God’s timing.

He is the drawer of the map, the definer of the river bank. I can rely on him to guide through the changes; letting me sit back and watch what unfolds. 

Pack a Shoebox and Change the World

Can one shoebox packed with a few chosen items really make a difference to a child? Not only a momentary difference of the excitement over a new toy or soon dissolved candy. But a lasting, life changing and momentum building difference – can that come from a shoebox that is chosen, packed and sent by a stranger? Can it make a life better, a family stronger and a community healthier?

Operation Christmas Child would say yes. If you aren’t sure of what this whole shoebox thing is, I would encourage you to take a moment and check out their website, 

(http://www.samaritanspurse.org/). I’m a fan of this movement led by Samaritan’s Purse and encourage you either take a step to reach out to a child in this way or find something else that will let you invest into a child’s life.

As great as this whole thing is, I want to take about a dozen steps back and ask – does this singular activity of one person make a difference? 

I’m going to wager a loud yes! Yes, one person makes a difference.  We can do one thing that will lead to another and then another. It can create a chain reaction, a domino effect that is worth putting into action. Pack your shoebox, drop it off – or take care of it online. Though you may never know what the impact is, be prepared that you may just start something that starts something that changes the world. Pray about the child who will receive this gift. Pray for their family and community. And then, don’t call it quits – keep taking small steps and planting seeds to make a big change in your world. What is small to you may be huge to someone else.

Long Winter and Welcome Spring

 I’m sitting in the garden, enjoying the feel of sun on my back and dirt on my knees.  I know the feeling of early spring, it is when my bare feet feel grass damp and chill with dew, and when you stand in one spot for a moment the warming soil feels lovely.

Temperatures dropped and then stayed below freezing in the Midwest over the winter.  What is of course expected to be a cold season; stayed sub-zero for a longer time than normal.  The permafrost crept further through the soil as the snow and ice continued to accumulate on top; making nothing quite as welcoming as a fire in the stove and a bracing cup of hot coffee.  Small talk conversations everywhere centered on cold weather and wondering when spring would come.

February came and not surprisingly passed in winter’s chill.  March promised a thaw as the sun showed itself more, but plunged back into freezing temperatures again.  April is purported to bring showers, but I think I remember snow instead!  May has arrived though, bringing the long sought spring.

Waiting through winter’s reluctant change to spring’s entry, the green of new leaves, bright daffodil blooms, and the bright purple of the redbud trees are doubly welcome.  I find myself examining each plant to see if it has survived the prolonged cold, surveying for buds and promise of leaves.  Nothing is exempt in my search for new spring life, from tall trees to the newly planted seeds.  Waiting impatiently for blooms to appear, I expect the warmth of the sun and the moisture of the rains to have encouraged spring to occur in each plant, large and small.

Life has seasons of winter as well, sometimes seeming everlasting frigid cold without the hint of a spring has arrived to stay.  It’s those days of cold darkness (though it may be 100 degrees outside), that we are tasting bitter hurts. How do we keep our eyes toward the spring to come instead of the frozen temperatures we are currently in? Sitting in the garden this past weekend, putting seeds in the ground and anticipating seeing the new sprouts soon reminded me of how we look for heart winters to pass as well.

Winters of the heart, be it from stress, hurt, anger, grief, or a combination of them all, can chill our world as much as that accumulative snow and deepening permafrost.  We tend to pull back, hibernating in our hurts and hope for the sun to come back out.  But, in the midst of the deep winter, it is time to look at garden catalogues!  Dream of summer days, plan for gardens, and get that soil ready for new seeds.  It isn’t ignoring the winter, but it is planning ahead – looking ahead – hoping ahead – for the thaw to come.  Seeds of friendship, good changes to come, familial support, and leaning on Jesus are to be planted in a soil rich in hope, love, and the faithfulness of God. Keep watering, keep waiting and watching with anticipation and when spring comes, so do new plants of great good. 

I am looking forward to being out in the garden.  

My sun hat is ready; the seedlings are beautifully green and growing every day.  Bring on the spring!

Anthem of Joy

The Christmas musical And On Earth, Peace has finished.  Months of practice, planning, rehearsal, and preparation culminated into two nights of performance.  Then, it is over and we are left with stories, memories, and the tunes stuck in our head.

The musical score, each song that has been practiced over and over (and over) are hushed now from the formal performance.  But, these anthems of praise, anthems of joy, are not merely the music written for the performance.  It is the laughter and giggles, and at time chortles and guffaws, that have filled the stage – these are a theme in the anthem of joy.  Each of the carefully prepared devotions, led and given with leading questions are pointing out phrases.  The whip of flags provides a soft rhythm in the song; while the practices and performance of the angel color guard continue to add a momentum of building tempos.  The sound of little shepherd feet running to their places is a percussive vibrato accented by the quiet counterpoint of a whisper of wheelchairs and walkers and feet spilled with candlelight.  The hands on the sound board, the lights, and computer are all subtle in movement.  But, they are such an important part of the musical line, part of the joyous hymn.  A new baby’s sleepy sigh, a touch point in a phrase that is complex with many parts melding into time changes and key change, rings out into the smallness of the rafters and the largeness of the heart.  It is sensed in the feet of children dancing on their parents’ laps without conscious thought, simply with the need to join the celebration.  Whispered instructions from flashlight wielding stage crews add a new instrumental line; one so subtle that many do not notice, unless it would suddenly not be there.  The audience reaches out to meet the joy, and shares it back with applause, smiles, and warm wishes.

The music comes to a silence, but the anthem of joy does not end.  This time is merely another change of pace before moving to a new musical line.  Another key change, a new bridge, and a series of fermatas, then pause for breath before speed finds its new metronomic pace.  The anthem continues in the well wishes of Christmas, the wide-eyed wonder of the child who can twirl and experience wonder in helping place the nativity.  It is experienced in the feel of the clean crisp quietness belonging to the first snow.  The smells of cookies delivered to neighbors strike gentle glissandos, while the delivery of a blanket to one who is cold heralds joy like a perfectly struck chime.  Bells break in as Christmas carolers visit others.  Shared meals with harmony, dissonance, and resolution revolve in the bond of family.  Delicate soprano notes play as little ones don costumes and take their places on stages to win hearts and steal shows.  New chords are tried as new memories are made and old familiar chords blend in with sweet traditions.

The program ends, And On Earth, Peace.  The lights have come back on, and people eventually filtered back out into the dark and snowy night. But, the anthem of joy does not end.  It is the eternal anthem of the joy of the Lord, one of complexity and styles that has stretched for thousands of years of music.  And yet, though with different instrumental focuses, the same theme repeats.  Come, join in the anthem, it is the joy of the Lord.

Getting Back into the New Groove

Vacation is over.  Wow, those are not happy words!  As glad as I am to see my pups, sleep in my own bed, and see all my friends, I’m still lingering over thoughts of vacation.  After clearing through e-mails, paper mail, and voice mails, I had my list of things to get done written out and am ready to start crossing things off of it.  I guess it’s time to get back in the groove of things.  Or, perhaps is it time to start a new groove? 

        Groove:  a : a fixed routine : rut; b : a situation suited to one's abilities or interests : niche      

        (according to a quick definition from Merriam-Webster).

As I look back at that definition and compare the provided words of rut and niche; I’m thinking niche sounds so much nicer.  If I am honest though, it is easy to slip into a rut of a groove, a fixed routine that is tough to break out of; even though it is a nice routine.  Doing the same thing over and over can lead to stagnation; when I think of stagnation, I think of a pond that is all green goo covered, not what I would like to describe my groove(a.k.a. routine)  as – yuck! 

So, I go on a trip and break out of my groove for a short time.  I have experienced new things, met new people, seen new sights, and had a new refreshing of my heart and mind.  Why should I take these new things and try to stuff them back into the same old groove?  I shouldn’t!  I need to get back into a new groove, one a little different for the experiences I bring with me.  

Misunderstood Covering

   We have been having heat advisories here nearly every day. I know it’s hot when the walk from my car to the office leaves my sunglass rims hot enough that they are uncomfortable against my face. The high humidity and heat leave me craving cool weather, cool water, cool air – cool everything! So, as I climb into my car after such a hot day and crank up the air conditioner, I wonder for a few minutes if it is making any difference at all. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the air cools a bit and then a little more. In the time between the air conditioning really taking strong effect and the initial blast of heat, it seems that nothing is occurring. And yet, cool air is really slowly moving in and the space is cooling off.

   I think that something similar happens with headaches and taking a couple over the counter pain pills. A pounding headache, burning eyes, and piercing straight into your skull from any lights doesn’t necessarily go away from two ibuprofen. And yet, when the pain pills wear off, it comes to light how much they were really helping.
   It is the same way with God’s peace. God moves in his own way, and speaks with a still small voice. We often think nothing is happening, that nothing is changing. And then the pain is diminished, the air is cooled and we realize that there was something happening all along.

Winding Down the Clock – Winding Up the Fire

This week kicked off a life changing event for around four thousand teens and their youth leaders in Columbus, Ohio. It is called Challenge, a national youth event put on by the EFCA church denomination every two years. Imagine a conference/concert/mission trip/team building event packed into one week and you have a glimpse of Challenge. I went to something similar in high school, called Life. Life was a yearly event brought by the Christian Missionary Alliance denomination. These events are intended to be more than just a big youth party, a frenzy of speakers and stuff – they are intended and purposed to be life changing moments for those in attendance.

Imagine that life goes along and then something pivotal happens. You can choose to what angle it will move you, to a large or small degree, but you are in a moment where movement can occur. And not just any movement, but big movement, this is the moment that all of those who have worked so hard in speaking and performing and preparing are really striving toward.
Saturday, they are heading home. Packed into buses, vans, airplanes, and cars, all of those who spilled into the city to partake of this time are now leaving. As the group I know moves back across the US in the vans, I have been thinking about their prayer requests and about how they will have a life change.
A substance used to exist, for the most terrible of battlefield tools, Greek fire. Greek fire was a chemical reaction; put a series of materials together, mix, add air, throw it onto something and it would catch into a brilliant flame of searing heat. It was not put out with water, but burned until it was out of fuel. As the teens and leaders come back, they will have a new life and enthusiasm with them. How could you not with that kind of environment? For a whole week, speakers, helpers, and leaders have poured themselves into you, with the express purpose of loving you as God loves you.
The return home is the time when you start finding out if the fire within you is a regular fire or Greek fire. You start facing daily challenges, must now decide to put changes into practice, deal with adversity, face disappointments and frustrations, and experience life. Along the way, there are buckets of water and various other substances that are thrown onto your fire. Other methods are tried to put you back as you were. Don’t be fearful of running out fuel for the fire, God is the ultimate provider and is the creator of all. The fuel will not be removed, though it certainly may change over time.
I am so looking forward to hearing the stories of this week. I want to hear about the songs and stories, the hotel and city, the unexpected and delighted. But even more, I am looking forward to hearing the stories in five or fifteen or twenty five years. I want to hear stories of what the changes were in a life from pivotal change, what kind of fire was lit, and how life was altered, altered forever.

Transitions

When I know why a change is or is not occurring I can normally accept it. I may not like it, approve of it, or even want it – but I can accept it. There are sometimes though I just rail against the change, the transitions in life that leave me feeling as if I am in transit, stuck in the back of some cab that is heading east while I’m wanting to go south. Where is the control? Can I have a steering wheel here in the back seat? And a brake pedal too?
It’s been a week of changes; many transitions have hit me this week. With nearly one per day of major transitions, I was left feeling my eyes grow teary at the last one. No more! I know life is not static. I know that change will and must occur, but not in such close succession.
And at the same time I am trying to keep it all together, in that moment when I had no words and a completely stunned look on my face, I know there are other transitions I would love to make but have not had the opportunity. What a dichotomy, what strange mishmash of perceived wants with transitions avoided and transitions sought in nearly the same breath. No wonder women are confusing to men. It’s not so much that we change our minds as we haven’t really explained that there are no hard fast rules only lots of little minute ones, with great subtlety and sub text. A list grows in my mind even now of transitions I would willingly and gladly make in my life, but they do not occur. Others which I find unpleasant or completely surprising, they come with frequency.
This makes me think; perhaps I have the whole transition thing backwards. Maybe I should want the ones which are occurring and not want the ones which aren’t occurring. Or, if not want – maybe I should be quicker to accept them.
It must seem as if I am talking in code. Let me back up and start again. A friend is moving, transitioning, to a new and wonderful stage of her life – motherhood. I am saying good-bye to my friend as a co-worker, as a co-worker who lives multiple states away. Will we lose touch? Will we just drift apart without topics of workplace function and process to keep us talking? At the same time, she is taking on a wonderful and noble transition which I would love to do. My heart, while being so incredibly pleased for her, aches for me. And yet, the ache is tempered by a desire for God’s will, a trust in God’s plan. It changes the hurt from a raw wound, to one that is being treated and bandaged properly. Unfortunately, this hurt is not one cured by a shot or sitting just so. I have to turn this over to God and let him heal it for me.


Perhaps I do have the whole transition thing backwards. Maybe the wanted transitions are just God’s way of wanting our attention.

Lord Change Me

I prayed a simple prayer, well simple in syntax anyway, just three words over several months last year.

“Lord, change me.”

It wasn’t something lengthy or lofty discussion on a difficult theological point. Yet, it had complexity and structural layers which staggered my understanding. Lord, change me was brought to my attention through a book by Evelyn Christenson. She challenged the readers to pray this prayer.

Not …“God, please change my neighbor because they drive me crazy and put their leaves in my yard.”
Not … “God, please change those leaders because they have all lost their minds.”
Not … “God, please change my family.”
Not … “God, please change that difficult co-worker.”

But, “Lord, change me.” Please oh please, change me. I prayed this and wasn’t really quite prepared for what sequence of events occurred. I look back now and I can see events falling into place, one after another, which at the times were so difficult, even intimidating. They were not in vain though, they served a purpose and God was answering that prayer.
Then, with an lovely group of ladies, we started praying that God would bring it to our hearts and minds grumbling. I felt like all my grumbling was ink that was coming out of my mouth, staining everything in somewhat close proximity. I was startled and dismayed at the amount of grumbling I was now aware of. It seemed that I just needed a mop wherever I went. This is something I am still working on, though the initial tidal flood of inky perception has slowed somewhat.
Just recently, I felt the need to progress further in the Lord change me prayer. I’m not sure where this will lead, but I’m excited to find out.

Cause’ the Church Will Tip

You walk in the door, hang up your coat, and then greeting as you go – head to your seat.  Passing rows, familiar faces fill the pews.  Paying attention week after week, you could name the names which seem to be assigned to their particular spot.  I sit behind a couple who sit parallel to the last window, about halfway back on the right hand side. 

What would happen if we moved?  The church would tip and we would slide out and land on the other side of the world!!  No?  Are you sure?

Okay, so we do like traditions and it is easy to become stuck in the familiar.  I don’t know that there is anything really wrong with sitting in the same pew week after week.  But, it was a good reminder to me that I need to hang on to the right things and let the familiar change, if it’s a change of tradition or ritual or the familiar.  Maybe we should all pick a different spot to sit one Sunday – and let the church tip just a little.