Drink Like A Deer

Feb20

img_1701-1In my front yard I have a grapevine doe. She used to be a Christmas decoration, but eventually the light bulbs burned out. So I moved her over to my koi pond, which sits right in front of my dining-room window. And now I can watch her all year long.

Every once in awhile I see a lizard skittering inside her belly.

What struck me today, though, was that she’s ever so close to drinking that water, but never quite getting there. If she could just stretch a little further; if the water would just come a little closer, she could be fulfilled.

It reminded me of the verse, “As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God” (Ps. 42:1b).

Do I long for God? Do I literally feel as if I will die if I’m not with Him?

This winter has been rough—I know, I know, how can a Version 2Florida winter be rough?—but though the sun has been shining and the weather has been warm, the storms of life have almost undone me.

From emotional crises to a nagging health issue to an accident that’s causing me to take on a role that doesn’t come naturally to me, the blizzards hit one after another, just as if I’m New England in this winter of ’17.

Oh, how I long for the flowing streams of God’s grace. I don’t want to sip, I want to plunge in, head over heels, and feel Him surround me and take me under so that I’m no longer breathing air, I’m breathing Jesus. Every breath I take.

Sometimes the life-giving water seems far away. I just can’t reach that far. There is too
much fear, like lizards crawling around in my belly. Do I trust Him, even though He’s choosing to keep me in this season?
img_9130Do I believe He’s a good Father who is doing the best for me? Working all things together for good. Because I do love Him. I am called according to His purpose.

As the hymn writer Horatio Spafford said, “When peace like a river attendeth my way . . .”

So many water images in the Bible, Jesus Himself being the epitome of that. Living Water.

“Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!” Ps. 34:8.

The water is fine, I tell that doe. And myself. Dive right in.

It Starts With Spilled Milk

Feb11

After my post the other day regarding lying, I had a conversation with several young moms about how to encourage an atmosphere of grace in their homes when they are more prone to be rule followers.

spilled-milkThat’s a great question. I think it starts with spilled milk.

Surely every parent, sometime in their parent life, has experienced a child spilling milk or some sticky drink either at the dinner table or in the car or on the carpet. Your reaction to these accidents helps set the tone for bigger mistakes in your child’s future.

Mistakes are opportunities to grow and learn.

Here’s what I suggest could be said in different circumstances.

Your child spills his/her drink.

Oops! Well, I’ve spilled my share of drinks, too. Let’s clean it up together and see what we can do to be more careful in the future.

Your child breaks a favorite item of yours on accident.

I’m sad this got broken, but I know you didn’t mean to break it. It’s just a thing. You’re more important to me than that [insert broken item].

You forget to do something you promised your child you’d do. 

I’m sorry I forgot to do [insert whatever it is]. I was wrong to not follow through on what I said. Will you forgive me?

These are all common circumstances that every family can relate to. Building an environment where your child is not afraid to tell you they did something is critical to helping them understand that grace reigns in your household. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t consequences for their bad choices, but choosing to do something wrong and having something happen by accident are different.

Open dialog happens from a very early age. Listen to your children with your full attention. Ask them questions. Help them come to their own conclusions about issues. Let them express themselves in an appropriate, respectful manner.

With my kids, I found that there was a little bit of a Catch-22: We had such a close relationship that they didn’t want to disappoint me, even if I had never made performance a priority. The notion that lying to me is more disappointing than the original act doesn’t seem to get through their heads!

The most important thing I think I do is to keep telling them, “I love you.” And it’s never the person I’m disappointed in, it’s the choice. That is emphasized time and again.

 

Amongst many other forgotten things, I’ve had countless items borrowed and lost, and a favorite bowl knocked off the counter and smashed, all accidents. All covered by grace because the lossshattered-trust was unintentional.

But I’ve also had my trust absolutely demolished like that favorite bowl by a child lying right to my face. Things hidden from me because that child knew those actions would grieve me.

But grace wins every time. God will deal with the sin. I’ve given consequences for the actions to my minor kids. But for my adult children, I’ve cried, prayed, told them truth over and over, but ultimately, their decisions are part of the journey God has them on.

And sometimes that journey goes through the stream of spilled milk. Will it be a sour experience or a sweet one, ending in a pool of grace?

Oh, What A Tangled Web We Weave

Feb5

img_7457I hate being lied to. As a parent, I’ve had it happen more than once.

It never gets easier to hear.

I am naturally one who likes to trust people. I want to believe that what you’re telling me is true. When I find out it’s not, something deep inside me dies just a little bit.

I think it’s my innocence. And after 55 years on this planet, I just don’t have much of that left.

I can’t trust commercials on TV. They’re just trying to sell me something.

I can’t trust politicians. They’re just trying to sell me something, too.

And lately, I can’t trust the media either. They have an agenda they’re wanting to promote.

Why is it that lies bother people so much? For me, it’s because it’s so opposite of who Jesus is. He said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.” If we love and follow Jesus, we speak the truth. But the tangled web that deceptions demand dangle ever before us—ours and those of others—and they hide spiders ready to devour us if we let them.

img_7459When I was in 6th grade, I remember getting a piece of jewelry I already owned and telling my friends that a certain boy had given it to me. They were so impressed! I told that lie because I wanted to prove that some boy could love me. I was that desperate.

The lies I’ve heard from my children many times have to do with school. In these cases, it’s more often a lie of omission. They just happen to not tell me that they haven’t been doing their homework or turning in assignments or passing classes.

Other times, what it seems to boil down to is that my kids lie to me because they don’t want me to know that they’ve done something that goes against what they’ve been brought up to believe is wrong. They still want to do it, so they do it and don’t tell me because they don’t want to disappoint me.img_7457-1

But somehow, I always seem to find out. And the web begins to unravel.

I know the decisions are theirs, but I can’t help but wonder what kind of environment I’ve promoted that causes them to not want to tell me the truth. Have I put too many expectations on them? Do they feel pressure to be a certain way to please me?

I’ve done some pretty intense self-examination and can’t find where I’ve ever said to them, “I won’t love you unless you act this way.”

All I can do at this point is pray that the Holy Spirit convicts them of their sin. And I can keep asking the Lord to show me where I am in the wrong.

I only wish discovering the lies of our politicians was that straightforward. I’ll keep praying for them as well.

 

Walk Your Talk

Jan31

micah-6-8I’ve been in turmoil this week, as I know many others have, with what’s been going on in the world and in our own backyard. Criticism, hate, anger, vitriol. We’ve had it in spades. The message of tolerance and love and kindness and compassion don’t seem to be making a difference.

And we all seem to have so many questions.

What’s the difference between a protestor and a demonstrator? How can we keep our country safe and still have compassion on displaced people looking for shelter? Why are so many people looking for the worst in others?

I don’t have answers to these questions except a knowledge that the world needs Jesus. In the Bible, we are told that the prophet Micah wrote,”He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love mercy,
 and to walk humbly with your God?”

Do justice. Love mercy. Walk humbly with God.

A friend of mine just asked the question, “I wonder how many of those protesting at the airports would welcome a refugee in their home to stay for a year until they get on their feet.”

Do you know any refugees personally? Have you sat with them and cried and listened to their heartbreaking stories? Have you bought them groceries and helped them navigate a new city and find a place to live? Have you been their friend?

Have you prayed for them?

If you can’t answer yes to even one of those questions, then I have my doubts about your sincerity when it comes to really caring about them. All of a sudden these people matter just because the current president did something he thought (whether wisely or not) would be a step in protecting our nation? Do you know all the facts? Have you checked every side? Why is this being called a ban on Muslim immigrants when Muslims from other nations are allowed entry? The rhetoric doesn’t make sense.

Those who use their very public soapboxes to decry the treatment of people they didn’t care two bits about in the past are showing their hypocrisy.  This crisis has been going on long before Trump took over. Where were their voices then?

It’s like taking your family to serve a meal at the homeless shelter on Christmas morning and then never stepping foot in the place until the next Christmas comes. Sure, it makes you feel better, like you’ve done something, but it’s more like a pat on your back than a hand up for the hurting of your city.

My prayer is that you will take what you don’t like going on and start getting involved, like, always. Not just when it’s a trending topic. Love mercy.

There are always 2 sides to a story. But Trump haters are more than willing to believe only one: whichever casts him in the worst light. Do justice. That means fact checking before sharing what you believe to be “news.” Take off your slanted shoes and walk humbly with God.

Seek to be informed yourself; don’t take the word of others, especially those with an agenda. Get involved with groups that are actually aiding refugees who are already here. Give to a reputable agency that helps people in country. Volunteer at your local homeless shelter on a regular basis, not just once a year.

Get out there.

And stop, just stop with the hateful words.

It’s A Matter Of The Heart

Dec18

heartbeatAbout a week ago, I was diagnosed with atrial fibrillation. I have experienced what I thought were benign PVCs (premature ventricular contractions) for many, many years, but things had picked up in the last couple of months. Turns out, they were mostly PACs (premature atrial contractions), which apparently can be a precursor to A-Fib.

Great.

So now I have an appointment with a cardiologist in early January. My general practitioner doesn’t think I’m a very good candidate for medication because they pose more of a risk than the aFib with my current good health, so we’ll see what the specialist has to say. Meanwhile, I pay attention to what my heart is doing, rejoice when I have a good day and hope when an episode happens that it is short lived.

Would that I would pay as much attention to my spiritual heart.

There’s an old Amy Grant song called “Every Heartbeat.” Yes, the song is to a boy from aheartjesus_small girl, but I think it’s appropriate to say to Jesus as well: “Every heartbeat bears Your name. Loud and clear they stake my claim. My red blood runs true blue. And every heartbeat belongs to You.”

Are my words to others evidence to the fact that I belong to Jesus?

Do my actions show that I am His?

Is He embarrassed to have me bear His name?

As I monitor every physical heartbeat these days, I want to monitor every spiritual beat as well. No skips, no fibrillations, no arrhythmias. Every heartbeat is true.

So how do I do that? I wore a 24-hour heart monitor that detected my A-Fib. What monitor do I have for my spiritual heart? A few simple questions might do the trick. Is this where you want me to be going, Lord? What should I say to this hurting person? What would you have me do in this situation? Help me to see what I’m not seeing.
Honestly, the A-Fib symptoms concern me. They’re uncomfortable and disconcerting. But the uncomfortable symptoms in my spiritual heart concern me as well. Did I just ignore someone’s cry for help? Was I selfish with my stuff when someone was in need? Did I go a whole day without talking to Jesus?

My physical health is important, and I will do what I can to make sure it’s taken care of and controlled. All I have to do is make an appointment the-great-physician-400x400with a doctor and then make decisions based on the best information I have. Taking care of my spiritual heart is not as easy. Discovering what’s wrong is more difficult.

But that’s why another name for Jesus is the Great Physician. I think I’ll give him a call.

 

 

 

Jesus heart image from glorytogod.do.am; great physician from thelordspeople.org