What makes you angry?

     He asked … "What makes you burn with righteous anger?"
     We were studying the third chapter of Mark. Jason, our pastor, paused at the fifth verse to point out that Jesus was angry and deeply distressed. Jesus was angry at the stubborn hearts of those who chose legalism over compassion. They were in the synagogue yet people were spending their time looking for a reason to accuse Jesus. They watched him closely. And despite the consequences, He did it anyway. He healed a man's shriveled hand on a Sabbath. Jesus declared that life was of supreme value. And because of His display of kindness, compassion and mercy, the plot began - the plot to kill Him. Crazy, isn't it?
     Righteous anger, honorable anger towards the same things that make God angry, can be used for ultimate good. This kind of anger reflects God's heart to a world consumed by selfishness.
     Could it be that God places within each of us a unique passion for different people groups or needs?
I look around my church and see some who are passionate for the oppressed. Others fight for the abandoned and rejected. Others react with holy anger towards those who abuse women and children. I have a friend with a tender heart for teenagers. Another friend loves to care for the elderly. Another is falling in love with incarcerated women. I ran into another lady I haven't seen in years who shared with me that she is being drawn - no, compelled to show Christ's love to the Muslims in our community.
     There is so much brokenness in this world. Big issues. Complex issues. We can become so overwhelmed that we bury our heads in the sand. We turn off the news and turn on the sitcoms. We cocoon ourselves by surrounding ourselves with people who think just like we do and who do not ask tough questions. But the problem is, if we succumb to feelings of  powerlessness, we don't propel the gospel forward. We just wind up as grumblers and complainers - ineffective and useless.
     Jason reminded the church that our righteous anger should draw us to God's mission for us. God has chosen to make His appeal to the world through His people. And we are to step into our mission with power and confidence, trusting that God will do the equipping.
     I've thought about the question a lot. And I've posed it to countless friends over the past two weeks. "What makes you burn with righteous anger?"
     For me, its lies.
     I am angry that a young man I know believes the lie that he isn't of value because his mom abandoned him.
     I am angry that a teenage girl I met believed that since she gave her heart to a guy and he left her when she got pregnant, she was not worthy of intimate, lasting love. She heard the lie that she did not deserve a second chance.
     I am angry that my friend who had an abortion as a teenager, does not think she is worthy of God's love and doesn't believe God could every forgive her.
     I am angry that silly magazines with air-brushed photos lie to both men and women about what makes a person beautiful.
     I am angry at the porn industry for the lies that are taking captives.
     I am angry about the lies that promise escape by self-medicating or that promise joy with drug use.
     I am angry that people are brainwashed with lies about who their enemies are.
     So what can I do with this righteous anger? How do I wage war on the father of lies, the devil (John 8:42-44)? He lied to Adam and Eve. And he is still at it.
     The lies are so rampant that I opt to speak truth to women. This is where I look for opportunities. Divine appointments. After all, I am a woman susceptible to the same falsehoods.
     How will I go to battle? Following the One who is Truth, Jesus. He leads. I follow. I choose to use His Word because I know "All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the people of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work." (2 Timothy 3:16)
     Yet, when one pours their energy into one area, he or she risks criticism within the Church. Why, oh why, Church? Why must we bicker with one another about who's mission is of the most value? Aren't we called to go to the front lines for the passion that God placed in each of us, instead of fighting with one another? Can't we encourage one another? Can't we support one another?
     We need people fighting for the veterans. We need people fighting for refugees. We need people fighting for the orphans. We need people fighting for those locked in grief. We need people fighting for single moms trying to provide for their children. We need people providing for the homeless. We need people fighting for souls.
     We need to fight, church, fight! Not with one another, but with the enemy.
     Oh yeah, I recognize that I also get angry when the Church acts like spoiled babies instead of mature brothers and sisters. Let us be the Church on mission for our King. May His kingdom reign on earth as it is in heaven. Amen!
   
 

I care

Yes, I am pro-life. For me, that title means I believe that every life deserves dignity, respect and investment. Why? Because each man, woman and child was created in God's image by Him.

I care about the woman who is trying to raise 4 kids on her own because the fathers of her kids refuse to walk in their responsibility. I care that she can only find a job that pays minimum wage yet the cost of childcare would take every penny of her paycheck.

I care about the woman who escaped the poverty of her homeland and came to this country to try to provide for her 3 little ones. I care that she is so frightened of being sent back that she endures abuse without seeking help.

I care about the young college student from another country who went to her first party to make friends, woke up without any clothes on and is now pregnant. I care that she is scared to tell her parents. I care about the young man who has now fathered a child and will never know it.

I care about the 10th grade girl, active in her school, now pregnant, whose biggest worry is that she is going to disappoint her parents. Why? "Because they think I'm perfect."

I care about the girl whose mom is never around and doesn't seem to care. I care that she never knew her dad. I care that she is starved for attention - any attention.

I care for the woman who had an abortion and now thinks God will never love her and never forgive her.

I care about the woman who performed abortions and is now broken because of what she has done.

I care about the woman who wants to have nothing to do with Jesus because people called by His name have ridiculed her, looked down on her and hurt her. I care for the church who has failed her.

I've looked into the eyes of every one of these young women. I've listened to their stories of pain. Hurt. Confused. Some didn't know how they could possibly do life with a child. Some didn't know how they were going to live with themselves if they chose the "easier way out". They all had dreams and their dreams seemed to be shattered and unattainable.

I care about the woman in crisis. I care about the pain caused by sin. I care about the broken women living in a broken world. I care about women who have believed lies. And I also care about the babies who don't have a voice and will never get the chance to giggle, love and be loved on this earth. I wish I could have held them. I wish I could have shown them that there is another way - a better way. I wish …

This I know. I don't want to be defined for what I am against. I want to be defined as a woman who cares about life - all life. I want to be defined as a warrior on the front lines fighting for souls - all souls. I want to be defined as a woman who shows others the truth of God's love and grace.

I want to be defined as a woman who cares!

Note: Please take note of the phrase "I want to be." I have failed to listen to the cries of the oppressed many times. I have failed to show compassion. But I still strive to be what my heart desires and what Christ desires.

Kicking the shoes off

I attended a three day women's event with 60 beautiful women of all ages.

We all arrived at our new "home away from home" with "our shoes shined and looking fine." Pleasantries were exchanged as we smiled at one another.

While unpacking suitcases, I am pretty sure that everyone was accessing one other. "They have it all together." "They would never understand." "They… they… they…" When we allow our minds to play these games, we personally come up short. We don't measure up. Why in the world do we put ourselves through this?

Within 24 hours, the layers began to peel back and real life entered the arena. Those shiny shoes were kicked off and brokenness was revealed. Addictions. Cancer. Children recently buried. Prodigal children. Hanging on to life with a thin thread. Bad choices with severe consequences. Broken relationships. Widows figuring out their "new normal." Fear. Disappointment. And the list went on. Everyone had a story.

We live in a messy world. We live in the midst of pain and suffering. We all have beautiful moments of joy, we all have terrible moments of sorrow. Every person experiences "a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance (Ecclesiastes 3:4).

What if we stopped trying to figure out how we measure up to one another? What if we looked at others in our everyday life with a recognition that underneath the facade lies someone who has been hurt or is presently hurting? Would we be kinder? Would we be more courteous? Would we let them go first in the check out line? Would we look them in the eye and smile? Would we say, "How are you today?" and mean it? Would we be open to praying for them - even if we did not know their names?

I dare say that we would be transformed into a people who thought a little less of ourselves and a whole lot more of others. And our little world would be a better place. A much better place!

Reflecting on Guatemala 2014

     We arrived to our home-away-from-home at 11:30 in the night. After such a long day, all we could manage to do was make our beds and climb into them. Then, rising at the break of dawn, our team of 23 women, all different ages, began the serious task of organizing. We organized our bunk beds. We organized our kitchen. We organized our suitcases filled with "activities." And we began to get comfortable in our new surroundings. We arrived with prayers, plans, concerns, hopes and mostly, curiosity about what God had planned for our week at Casa Aleluya.
     I left the  security of the "gringo dorm" and ran an errand. Returning, I found myself locked out of my newly established comfort zone. Where was I? On a playground, surrounded by 60 giggling, sweaty little boys. Some were playing soccer. Some were playing on the swings and slides. Some were digging in the dirt. Some were chasing one another. Doing "stuff" that little boys find amusing. I knocked on the metal door that separated me from my Texas friends. And I knocked. And I knocked. I shouted the names of friends and I shouted again … and again, louder and louder. No response!
     After about 5 minutes of futile attempts, I felt a tug at my shirt and looked down. Beside me was a little boy I had never seen before. And I've been visiting Casa for over 11 years. This little one didn't look like the rest of the Guatemalan boys.  His skin was fairer and his eyes were lighter.
     I said, "Hi. What's your name?" (Part of my limited Spanish vocabulary) He rattled off a name as fast as he could and it sounded as if it had 10 syllables. I asked him to repeat his name. So, he said his name - even faster. Beside him was another little boy whom I recognized and whom obviously knew my gringo limitations. He said the little boy's name very s-l-o-w-l-y.
     I asked my new friend how long he had been living at Casa. He went silent and his little friend said, "He came last night."
     Ahhh, this is the little boy that I heard arrived just a few hours after we did. What had this precious little boy experienced that prompted the courts/police to rescue him from his situation and bring him to this home of 500 children? How can people abuse helpless children? How can they "throw away" their gift from God? How? Why? I did't expect the questions that I always struggle with at Casa to hit me so soon after my arrival.
     But some things I did know. I knew that God kept me from entering my physical, emotional and spiritual "comfort zone," so that I could meet this little boy. I knew that I was going to be required to open my eyes and heart if I wanted to see what God had planned. I knew that I needed to slow down and I knew that God was revealing bits of His nature to me. I was also witnessing the devastation that man imposes on man. Sin!
     This little boy was now safe - safe from the circumstances that brought him to Casa in the middle of the night. He had instant friends/family - many who understand what brought him into their midst. He has opportunities. He has dorm parents who truly care. He can receive an education - all the way through college. He has in front of him a future that is rich - not in things of this world - but things of eternal value. This little boy will get the opportunity to meet Jesus, His true Savior, and to fall in love with Him.
     I prayed. "God, please reveal Yourself as Father to these fatherless."
     I kept my eye on this little one throughout the week. He smiled a lot. He laughed. He got hugged each morning on his way to school. He ate a huge bowl of ice cream served by a team of women who couldn't stop grinning. Jesus was loving this child through the body of Christ. It was a beautiful site to behold.
     Jesus continues to amaze me. At Casa I saw tangible evidence that He binds up the brokenhearted. He proclaims freedom for the captives. He releases prisoners from darkness. He comforts those who mourn. He provides for those who grieve. He gives an inheritance. He gives joy. He rebuilds. He restores. He renews. He gives a double portion. And the Bible declares that he loves justice. (Isaiah 61)
     As for me, "I delight greatly in the Lord, my soul rejoices in my God."

It Will Be My Joy to Say ...

The screen flashed the words of a song and the crowd sang at the top of their lungs.

"It will be my joy to say 'Your will, Your way. Always.'"

I couldn't sing those words. I did not think they rang true for me. How could all these people around me declare that they would find joy in following God's will always? What if His way meant allowing you to walk through pain and suffering? Would the first Christians say they found joy while they were being fed to the lions in the Coliseum for sport? How does a devout Christian say they find joy while they valiantly fight a dreadful disease? I'm not saying these evil things are God's will. They were not part of His original creation and I know that He hates them. But we live in a broken world filled with sin and suffering. Jesus warned believers that in this world we will have troubles.

Then, Sunday I saw this song being lived by a dear friend. Her beloved husband suffered a severe heart attack Thursday, CPR administered four different times. Her response, "Please pray. I'm perfectly at peace with God's will. And I will not waste my suffering." And her beautiful, strong daughters were of the same mind, trusting the God they love.

Her husband, their father, spent two days in an induced coma, allowing his body to rest. When they began to bring him out of it Saturday, he responded in ways that astounded the medical community, of which he is a part. When I talked with his wife that evening, I heard joy. I heard happiness because of the hope that she has more time with her husband on this earth. But her joy was found in what she witnessed God doing in the lives of others. She knew joy because she knew God's presence. This strong woman who is usually on the quiet side, preferring to listen and learn, could not stop talking. She was bubbling over with story after story of where she saw God's presence and His loving kindness towards her and towards people that had never acknowledged Him in the past. I heard joy. And I know that when her husband is able to hear the God stories, he will grin from ear to ear.

Today, I read Romans 7. Paul wrote of himself (and every believer), "Yes, I'm full of myself - after all, I've spent a long time in sin's prison. What I don't understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise…The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God's commands, but it's pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge. I've tried everything and nothing helps…The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does. He acted to set things right in my life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but I am pulled by the influence of sin to do something totally different." (The Message)

It's as if there are two Debs. One is shallow and one is deep. The shallow Deb gets caught up in the world and its ways. She desires things that have no true value and she gets ruffled over things that don't really matter. Actually, I think the world likes this Deb. On the other hand, the deep Deb truly wants God above all else. He is her greatest treasure. I don't think the world cares for this Deb. They think that when she hates what is evil, she condemns them. They think that her values are out-dated. Since the world is hostile toward God and His values, she doesn't fit in.

I thought about the song. The shallow Deb cannot sing the words, "It will be my joy to say Your will, Your way always." But the deep Deb can sing at the top of her lungs. The deep Deb knows that God is always good, always faithful, always kind and He calls her His daughter. He's trustworthy. And He promises to be there always-in the good times and in the tough times.

Let the real Deb sing!

And please pray for my friends. I'm asking for full, total healing and recovery for him. And strength and wisdom for her and her daughters. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

My Guatamala family

I've been asked, "Why do you return to Guatemala every year?"  The answer requires a story.

Eleven years ago I agreed, with much trepidation, to lead a band of about twenty five women to a children's home named Casa Aleluya, or affectionately known as Casa Para Ninos. As our bus pulled into the gates I saw an armed guard, barbed wire, tons of concrete and what seemed like a million children. The kiddos swarmed us. Some literally crawled up our bodies into our arms while others stood back observing our reactions. My thoughts: "What was I thinking when I agreed to this? Why did I think this was a good idea? I want to go home…now!"

It was a hard week - the most physical labor I have every done at Casa. Before embarking on this adventure, our team was asked to prepare to de-lice a dorm of little girls. Attempting to make this fun for all, our brave little team armed ourselves with what else - hair cutting and styling classes. We were determined to turn our assignment into a party!

For four days, every time the girls left for school, we attacked their rooms (and those bugs) with a vengeance. We stripped beds, washed linens, sprayed down the beloved stuffed animals and remade bunk beds as we prayed for these girls and the place they called home.

When our new friends returned from school, we would send them to the showers with "special" shampoo. They would return to us and allow us to comb through their thick hair for hours. Their reward - a new hair style. Reactions varied. Some girls returned for a second and third trim - mostly because they wanted the attention. There were a lot of "oohs" and "aahs" exclaimed over each girl. Others cried! It was evident that we were amateurs. But the joy we experienced was beyond belief. We could hug every little girl and tell her how beautiful she is. We could personally pray for each one of them. God's love grew and grew and grew til the bond was bigger than life.

Thursday night we attended worship service with the children. After, I sent everyone ahead to escort the girls back to their common living area. Once I accounted for our entire team, I followed with a full heart.

Upon arrival I found the entire room in tears. The girls were wailing. I questioned the first team member I found. "What happened?" She glared at me and said, "They found out that we leave tomorrow."

In shock, I immediately began questioning God. "How is this good for these babies? You asked us to come here and love them and we did. Now we turn around and leave them with broken hearts. How is this good?"

In the midst of my whining, I was interrupted. In my walk with the Lord, I've noticed that He interrupts my rantings - usually with Scripture. I was reminded that this was family. I recalled that children in my culture will often cry when a member of their extended family - an aunt or grandmother - leave after a sweet visit. But there is always the hope that they will return.

At that moment, I knew what God was asking - that I return to visit my Guatamala "family" the following year. I was to be the "aunt" that returned and showed my family how much they are valued. This is why I return year after year. I've seen many of these girls develop into the most beautiful women with huge, kind hearts. Some are now in college. Some are living on their own. And some are stepping into roles at Casa - teaching, administrative work, pastoring, etc.

One year I may not be able to return but I am trusting that the God who was big enough to give me this vision of family is big enough to tell me should that time come.

Today I am beginning to prayerfully prepare for my June trip to see my family. I'm praying for the team that God will put together.

I love my Guatemala family! I'm excited about seeing them and how much they've grown since last year. I am looking forward to hearing their stories and their dreams.

And somewhere along the way, I think I am seem as more of a grandmother than an aunt!


"Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth." 1 John 3:18

A Change in Plans

Earth's crammed with heaven

and every common bush afire with God,

only he who sees takes off his shoes;

the rest sit round and pluck blackberries.

                                                Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Surely this beautiful piece was written in the beauty of spring. But I am re-reading it on a cold, icy, winter day when my entire city has shut down because of the weather conditions. Texans don't know what to do with ice and so we stay home by our fireplaces. And it's Friday. I love Fridays. I play tournament bridge with a partner that makes me laugh while she challenges me to think. I get to spend time with people who I have grown to love. But today … It's the perfect day for reading.

I love this poem. Long ago, I wrote it in the front of my Bible. It reminds me of Romans 1:20. "For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities-his eternal power and divine nature-have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse." 

God has crammed earth full of evidence of Him. Nature reveals His amazing power, His creativity, His provision for our every need, His kindness toward mankind, His patience, His wisdom, etc. No one has an excuse for rejecting Him.

God is present in what we see as common. The problem is that too often I become caught up in the mundane and forget to "see" Him … and enjoy Him. Sad for me. Within my self-imposed, limited vision, I can reduce His presence to a quiet little companion, just waiting to be noticed and acknowledged. Crazy! Why would I do that? Why would I even want God to fit that mold? He is fire, He is glory, He is all powerful, all knowing. He is magnificent. He is beautiful. He is all mighty God!

Perhaps an "ice" day is just what I need to slow down, take off my shoes, settle in and take note of my attitude towards living the life I've been given. Perhaps I should ponder how often I enjoy the creation - the blackberries - and deny the Creator. When do I find my enjoyment in what is perishable and ignore the eternal? When do I settle for less?

Yes, it is a beautiful day - icicles and all!

There's nothing like a baby!

There is nothing like a newborn baby that can create a glimpse of the way that God loves. I began pondering this when Leslie was born. And I am seeing it replay all over again with the birth of my grandson, Maverick.

Watching my baby loving her baby has brought back a surge of emotions and memories. Before her baby was even born, Leslie experienced the pains that accompany every woman's pregnancy. Babies kick and squirm in a small, enclosed environment of a mom's body. They seem to practice tap dancing when you are trying your best to sleep. He (or she) distorts your body and causes your body to respond in many unpleasant, not to be mentioned ways. I remember...though the memory has softened. Painful but you hold on to the  promise of a new family.

When Leslie thought that she couldn't take pregnancy for one more second, her sweet baby boy made his loud entry into the world. Watching her in the delivery room brought tears to my eyes. More pain.

Little Maverick is now two months old and his dad says that he never realized you could go that long without sleep. Little do they know that they will never sleep soundly again.

That precious little bundle of joy can be demanding and impatient. He cries to be fed immediately and it won't be long before he will wail for attention and demand his way be done. But, oh, the joy he brings! I watch Travis and Leslie stare at his every movement. They talk a new language, in a tone reserved only for their adored son. They can't wait for him to wake up from his nap so they can play with him again.

I see both Leslie and Travis overwhelmed with a sense of protectiveness. Hand sanitizer, baby monitors of every kind, pediatrician visits - anything and everything to assure that their baby is safe. I remember coming home from the hospital many years ago and the realization hitting me that my precious baby was exposed to all kinds of dangers. And it was entirely up to her dad and me to guard her. Thinking, "Really? That's the plan?"

For a very long time, babies give nothing in return for all of your sleepless nights and attentive nurturing. But Maverick gave the first glimmer of a responsive smile at about six weeks and everyone began to perform and beg for another. Just a glimmer of response, a hope of connection, a desire for him to be happy.

Yet in spite of all of the pain, sleepless nights, necessary feedings and diaper changes, constant need for attentiveness … you love your baby. He gives absolutely nothing to you but he's yours. And you love him with an immeasurable love.

Scripture declares that God loves us with a never ending, faithful, unconditional love. We fall short of that kind of perfect love. In fact, I think loving our babies is the closest we can come to grasping the way that He loves. God created us and loved us from the beginning. He made plans for us from the moment of conception (Psalm 139:13-16) - good plans, plans that are not meant to harm us but meant to give us a full life.

As the created, we demanded from our Creator. We treated God without regard. But...He gave. He gave more than we can even fathom. "God demonstrated his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8).

God protects. He guides. He teaches. And yes, He disciplines when necessary. All because of His great love. We did that for Leslie. She and Travis will do the same for Maverick.

We love God because He first loved us (1 John 4:19). It is His love that shows us how to love. Love is more than a feeling, even though it certainly can arouse emotions. It is an action. It is demonstrative. 1 John 3:16 says, "This is how we now what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers." John 3:18 continues, "Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions in truth." Saying "eat" to a baby, does not feed him. It would not be an example of love. Action is required.

Through a parent's eyes, there is nothing like a baby to show you that love is truly patient and kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails! (1 Corinthians 13:4-8a)

And since Scripture declares that God is love (1 John 4:8), we can be assured that God is patient and kind. God does not envy or boast. He is not proud, rude or self-seeking. He is not easily angered and keeps no record of our wrongs. He does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. He always protects. Always trusts. Always hopes. And always perseveres.

God will never fail!

Resolutions, commitments, vows- whatever you want to call them

I don't make New Year's Resolutions. Not that I'm opposed to others making commitments to better themselves. But personally, I've felt like a failure once too often upon breaking my resolution before the month of January saw the 31st arrive. I don't like the agony of defeat! (A little dramatic, I know.)

This year, however, I am going to make a vow to write on this blog more often than last year. Why? Love. The reason I started writing in the first place was because of my love for my future generations. They have always been my target audience. I want them to know the great-great grandmother that prayed for them and loved them before they came to be. I want them to know the woman I am and what (or should I say Whom) drives me and consumes my thoughts and actions. I want them to see my life through my eyes. I want them to see the glimpses of God that I see in my day. I want them to see why I am so crazy about God's Word. I want them to know my over-the-top passion for Jesus. I want them to see my worship of Him through my written stories. I want them to know me, understand me, know how much I love them and see the perspective of someone who is devoted to God. And I desperately want them to love God!

I think that some of my reasons for writing this blog may be the same ones that God had in mind when He breathed His truth into the Scripture we can read today. I believe that the Bible is God's primary tool to help us know Him intimately, believe Him and understand who He is (Isaiah 43:10). I know that God loves us with an everlasting love; it's declared throughout His Word in the person of Jesus Christ. I believe God desires that we see life with His eternal perspective as opposed to the worldly one that our culture tries to push down our throats. I believe we can see the heart of Christ, the image of God, within the pages of the Bible.

Scripture declares that "the time will come when men will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths" (2 Timothy 4:3-4). I am not sure when that time "will come" but I suspect it has begun. Many people in our generation declare themselves to be "spiritual." However, they base their belief system upon what they like to hear or teachings that allow them to essentially be their own god. Future generations may choose to disregard Scripture but that will not change the truth of who God is and what will be.

As for me, I know the Bible speaks truth when it declares, "Your word, O Lord, is eternal; it stands firm in the heavens. How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth! The unfolding of your words gives light; it gives understanding to the simple. All your words are true; all your righteous laws are eternal" (Psalm 119:89, 103, 130, 160).

And so I will write for my beloved children, grands and great-grands. And hope they are interested in knowing me and knowing how much they are loved.

I don't mind if you, my friends, travel with me. In fact, I am counting on you to hold me accountable.

January 2014





   

The Tax Envelope: Friend or Foe

 
     When Leslie was around eleven, Keith and I tried an allowance system that was modeled after the way we handled our paychecks. We promised to pay her $10 (it was twenty years ago and to be perfectly honest, I don't remember the amount) in exchange for a week's worth of helping with household chores.
     Right off the top, 10% of her allowance would then go into an envelope designated as her tithe. She could contribute to the church or to a mission of her choice.
     The next 10% of her allowance went into an envelope marked "long term savings." We explained that our long range savings went into a retirement fund but for her, this allotment would be put into a college fund. And yes, I understand that since 10% of $10 is $1, Leslie would have to plan on applying for an Alexander grant.
     Another 10% went into "short term savings." This envelope could be tapped when she wanted something that exceeded her weekly income.
     And last, but not to be ignored, 10% went in the "taxes" envelope. We explained that everyone was obligated to pay taxes but that should be considered a good thing. That is the reason we could have firemen and policemen available by simply making a phone call. We pay taxes so we have military service to ensure our freedoms. Taxes make it possible to have roads to drive to our friend's homes. In a sorta similar fashion, Leslie's tax money would be used by the family for dinner at a restaurant because after all, that's how taxes work. They are gathered for the benefit of all.
     The remaining 60% was available for Leslie's desires that she could afford.
     Leslie had no problem with the system--except for the tax envelope. She argued every week about it. "Why do I have to pay taxes?" "Why do I have to put money in an envelope that everyone gets to spend?" No matter how many different ways we tried to explain, it was a weekly debate.
     Today, based upon what Keith and I pay for federal, state and local taxes, we would put 50% of our daughter's allowance in the tax envelope. The remaining three envelopes would maintain the same percentage which would leave Leslie with 20% of her allowance available for spending. For that reason, I am sure we would have even more questions to answer about taxes... and should. Are we using her money wisely or selfishly?  What we are entitled to because we belong to the same family and what are privileges? Everything became so complicated and subject to opinions. I fear that I would no longer be able answer the questions of a child.
     I still believe that "it is necessary to submit to the authorities, not only because of possible punishment but also because of conscience. This is also why you pay taxes, for the authorities are God's servants, who give their full time to governing. Give everyone what you owe him: if you owe taxes, pay taxes; if revenue, then revenue; if respect, then respect; if honor, then honor." (Romans 13:5-7) But this passage leaves me pondering. Why do our governing officials serve? Who do I "owe" respect and honor? Can I respect the office and not the person holding the position? If so, how do I accomplish that? How is respect earned?
     Honestly, the older I get, the less I seem to understand!
   

   

A Close Look in the Mirror Reveals ...

Another one of those"big" birthdays is fast approaching.

I'm happy about it ... really! Well, maybe for the most part. I love acquiring the "wisdom" that only seems to come with experience and age. Things like that. But we all know that there are some things that I don't like or appreciate about growing older.

 Last Saturday morning, I took a very, very close look in the mirror. Results: a few revelations ... very few... passed my inspection with a smile. But those lines in my face (some people call them wrinkles) did not make me happy. I tried lifting my eyelids and pulling back the skin on my face. I tried to restore the face of my youth. But when I let go, the face resumed its original look.

I did the only thing I knew to do. I slathered on moisterizer and vowed not to take a close look in the mirror for another 10 years.

Fast forward one hour. I joined my accountability group for our weekly meeting at the local bagel shop. We've been meeting for twelve years so this group knows the inner good, bad and ugly (and still profess to love me!). We hold one another accountable for the choices that we make and for our commitment to Christ. We call ourselves the Bagel Babes because of where we meet and because in our eyes - we are still babes!

Nell shares first. Of course, she would open by saying, "Sometimes we should spend time with God in the same way that a woman looks at herself in the mirror."

Zing! Double Zing!

Based upon my very recent mirror experience, that would mean close examination.

That would mean rejoicing in the Christ like character that is evident.

That would mean recognizing and acknowledging that all is not good in my character/behavior.

That would mean pondering where improvement is needed.

That would mean seeing things that I previously overlooked or ignored.

That would mean ... fill in the blank. You've got the gist of it.

Yep, gotta love those Bagel Babes. Speaking truth in love!

How is it possible?

Try to visualize this scenario...

18 women, ages 17 - 80:

In a foreign country
Living for 7 days in a home for 500 children (babies to university students)
Sleeping in one large room on bunk beds (lots of ear plugs in action!)
6:00 AM alarm each morning

Sharing 3 bathroom stalls with shower curtains for doors
Sharing 3 shower heads with only shower curtains to provide a smidgeon of privacy
Sharing 3 sinks
Sharing lives

Hearts broken over broken children
Ears hearing travesties committed against children who should have been able to trust adults
Eyes seeing God's power to heal and restore

Crying together
Working together
Praying together
Playing together
Worshipping God together

This was God's recipe for: Perfect unity...joy...peace...patience...kindness...love.

What an amazing, dedicated team He put together - the body of Christ at work, using everyone's gifts and talents.

It could only be God at work! All glory be to Him.

I love my mom

Today I am reflecting on why I love my mom. It's not because she was a perfect mom. Living in any family automatically produces many moments of "If I only could only have a do-over." I have many of those and I am sure that my mom does too. But I do love her and want to honor her.

I love my mom because:
She gave me life.
She first loved me.
She watched over me when I was a helpless babe.
She cared for me.
She provided for me.
She protected me.
She gave to me when I had nothing to give to her.
She picked me up when I took that really ugly spill on my bike and tended to my wounds.
She focuses on the potential she sees in me and parents in an attempt to draw that out.
She teaches me what is really important in life.
She's always available, ready to listen. She's always happy when I call her.
She likes spending time with me.

As I look at my list, I take note that these are the same reasons that I love God. And then, I realize that I love my mom for another reason. She provided a glimpse of the way that God loves. And yet, He is the perfect Father, perfect in His love. He never needs a "do-over." I could substitute His name in my list. I love Him because He gave me life and first loved me ...

Happy Mother's Day, Mom. And thanks!

She has a past ... and a future!

I met a darling young woman a few months ago and I am still thinking about her. In our discussion, she revealed that she had been a prostitute and drug user. Hard core. In fact, she had only been out of prison for a short time. She spent two years behind bars but amazing things can happen with a captive audience. God paid her a visit. She's now a believer and very fresh in her walk.

She told me that she recently made a mistake, a big mistake. She slept with her ex. All I could say was, "Oooh." Her eyes welled up with tears as she said, "No, it's worse. He's married now." This time I said, "Oooooooh." She continued, tears streaming down her face, "What is wrong with me? I never had a problem with sleeping with someone. I slept with hundreds of men...most married...and I never gave it a thought. I didn't care."

This time, I had an answer that involved actually using words. "Sweet thing, from this point on, if you ever have a doubt about your salvation ... if you ever doubt that God has adopted you as His daughter and calls you His beloved ... if you ever wonder if you will get to spend eternity with Him in heaven ... then, think upon this moment. When you said 'yes' to the gift of grace found in the person of Jesus, you became a new creation. You will not think the same nor want to behave as you did in your past because you now have the Holy Spirit living within you. He will lead you and speak truth to you. Sometimes that means, you will be reminded of who you are in Christ and those are the sweetest of moments. But sometimes, He will convict you of your sinful choices. That is why you, my sister in Christ, feel bad. What you did was wrong. But our God is a God of second-chances. What's done is done. Today is a new day filled with His compassion."

I received a beautiful gift from this delightful daughter of the King. She gave me a vivid picture of God's power to redeem what is lost and restore what has been stolen. He made beauty from ashes.

It was a random meeting. I will probably never see her again ... on this this side of heaven. But one day, we can share notes about what God can do with divine appointments.


"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!" 2 Corinthians 5:17

"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness." Lamentations 3:22-23

Better is one day in His courts ...

Yesterday, I was asked a question that stirred up a sweet memory. The problem is that the memory has continued to invade my every thought. Hoping to receive some relief from all of the pondering, I am writing.

My memory is of a migrant work camp in San Quintin, Mexico. Many years ago, we pulled up to the temporary housing of farm workers. People would work at this farm until the crop was harvested, then move on to the next farm.

As we approached, I first noticed the small tin, one room sheds that would be called home to an entire family in the evening. In the day, everyone in the family would work the fields.

The second thing I observed were the children. So many children. As we parked, they came running. Beautiful, smiling little faces. I had a jar of bubbles. As I would hold the wand out for a child to blow a bubble, giggles would erupt. I would turn my face and see another child, patiently waiting his turn to produce a bubble. No pushing, no shoving, no arguing. Just waiting to see if he would be noticed and have an opportunity to join in the fun.

A tarp was spread on the ground and a movie screen produced so that the Jesus film could be played. Parents came out to watch. I sat on the tarp and was immediately surrounded by children. Two sat on my lap. Two leaned against me, silently requesting arms that would hold them. Others sat at my legs and feet. Pure joy!

As we began to watch the film, a gently breeze began to blow. The sky was so dark that the stars twinkled like flickering diamonds. It was a beautiful evening...and then I began to think. "Hmmm...tomorrow I could have lice. I've never had lice. What do you do with lice? What do they look like?" As my mind took off in a self-centered fashion, suddenly a new thought totally interrupted my thoughts. I heard, not audibly, yet loud and clear, "Better is one day in My courts than a thousand elsewhere."

First, I was shocked. Then I began to smile. I knew exactly what the verse from Psalm 84 meant. I was actually living the verse. There was absolutely no place else in the entire world that I would rather be than sitting on the ground in that migrant work camp. I was sitting in God's courts.

I'm different today because of that blessing. I think that was the moment that I finally understood that nothing material in this world matters. Nothing!

But why is the memory obsessing my thoughts now? What lessons do I need to remember today?

1. As a Christian, I live in God's courts daily so why do I discover the richness of His presence in the humblest of circumstances?
a) Maybe because Jesus loves humility.
b)Maybe because Jesus came for the poor in spirit.
c)Maybe because "stuff" gets in the way of seeing God clearly. Simplicity can be very good thing.
d) Maybe we should expect to find God at work revealing Himself in the midst of human need.

2. If everything in my bank account were gone tomorrow, I could live joyfully because I have something of far greater value. I have Jesus in my life. It's more than a hope or theory. It's truth.

3. Grumbling and complaining are usually about things that have absolutely no eternal value. What does it matter? Who is in control and hasn't He proved Himself trustworthy time and time again? We have so much, why should we not be living our days in gratitude?

4. We can learn so much through children.

Oh, and no, I did not have lice the next day! Instead, I was left with a sweet memory and a taste of heaven.