God's Home

A couple of weeks ago I went to the American Christian Fiction Writers Conference. Informative, fun and enlightening, I met some wonderful people. People I hope to keep in touch with for a long time and maybe even reading this right now. It was great to be excited about writing all over again and glean an educational experience!
While I was there though, I missed home. I have always been a big homesick baby. It has followed me into adulthood. I missed my husband and kids. I would like to state for the record I did not miss our dog. I called my family often and made sure I spoke with everyone at least once while I was gone.
Coming home was sweet. My husband kissed and hugged me. My children acted like I had the plague. The dog was glad to see me. Hmm...maybe there's a lesson here. Anyway, I was glad to be home. We worshipped and rested and had as much family togetherness as my kids would allow on Sunday.
Monday dawned as usual. Hurry to school. Hurry to work. Hurry to get the laundry done. Hurry to get those groceries. And hurry through all those notes I took at the conference to remember all things pertinent. Why is life such a rush?
I paused to think about why I missed home. Everyone I loved was there. The peace and calm of familiarity soothes me. Confident in my surroundings and able to sneak a cookie I really don't need. But, not perfect. Errands never end! Can I get an "Amen!" on that one? People get cranky-notice I'm not naming names-and we wish we were back at the conference.
I started thinking about my next blog. It came to me. Many things have been said about home. "Home is where the heart is" and "There's no place like home" came to mind almost immediately. I thought about why I always get homesick. And the idea for this blog came to me.
We are so in love with the idea of home. Even, and sometimes especially, when it isn't perfect. What about our heavenly home that is perfect? It's waiting for us. No rushing. No laundry. No high calorie cookies. Just perfection. And, all the people we love will be there. All of them. Topping the list in importance, the One who loves us the most will be there. No place like it and where my heart is. Always.

God's Courage

I recently saw "The Help" with my oldest daughter. Actually, I should say I recently bawled through "The Help". It was a great movie that tugged at my heart. It was also a great book. Both offerings made me think.
Sure, I thought about the injustice of prejudice. I remember what it was like growing up in Southern Illinois. That injustice used to tear me in two. I just wanted to be everybody's friend. Wasn't that what I had learned in Sunday School? Wasn't that what Jesus wanted me to do?
Courage. Unfortunately, many people died for it during the civil rights movement. But some didn't. They were always an embodiment of strength to me. Rosa Parks. Coretta Scott King. The Little Rock Five. Courage.
I bought my oldest daughter a book about Ruby Bridges when she was little. We read it all the time. It was her favorite book. Sweet little girl who braved those crowds screaming at her. That's something far beyond courage. That's faith and trust in the One who gives us that courage. Little Miss Ruby used to pray for the people who tried to scare her.
"And a child shall lead them."
I've known alot of courageous people personally. My oldest daughter was bullied at her former school. It was horrible for her. We left. I wanted to leave because I was so mad I could spit. I prayed even though I didn't want to. And when God gave me my answer, I obeyed. But until then, my daughter bravely faced those bullies. She didn't want to fight back. She told me, "That's not what Jesus wants me to do."
Now, I watch as my mother cares for my ailing father. Honestly, I worry more for her than for him. I know he's getting excellent, loving care. He has for forty-eight years. My mother bravely soldiers on no matter how tired, frustrated or hurt she becomes. Some of the couples my parents considered their best friends never call. My mother is finding out who her true friends are.
At the end of "The Help" the main character's mother tells her how proud she is of her. And that courage sometimes skips a generation. That line hit home with me. I thought about all the courageous people in my family. I squeezed my daughter's hand as I remembered those bullies. I thought about my mother bravely getting up every morning to make my dad's day as comfortable as possible. I thought about my grandmothers and my grandfathers. I thought about my dad. And I thought about myself.
Courage may skip a generation in some families. And in others, God hands down His courage to every member.

God's Boat-Part 2

After writing my last blog, I was amazed that the story of Peter walking out to Jesus on the water was our sermon text! Wow! What a God moment.
Our pastor expounded on the story in a new and interesting way for me. His comments were that Jesus produced the storm and put it in Peter's heart to walk to Him. Why? To show the disciples life isn't about them. Their fears. Their rationale. Their doubts. Their selfishness. It's about God. Not us. He calms our fears and doubts. And, it's all about Him.
I always believed the whole miracle was to show the disciples He was indeed God's Son. This all occurred directly after the feeding of the five thousand. Another miracle and another God wink that this is His holy Son. Again, pastor took this story in a whole new direction for me. This was to show the disciples to look to God. Not themselves. Remember what they asked, "What shall we feed them?" Jesus responded, "You give them something to eat." Or in other words, "Have a little faith in your Heavenly Father's Son." I would have added, "You big goobers." But that's just me. Jesus isn't easily irritated. Thank God. Literally.
So, like Peter sinking at the thought of his own abilities to survive that dangerous sea, we have to stop thinking of ourselves. Set our minds on Jesus. Keep your eyes peeled for Him. Then again, we won't have to look far.
When I titled this "God's Boat", I started wondering what would God's boat be like? Strong, beautiful, maybe white with gold inlay. Aaaahhh...magnificient to behold. Warm and cozy with lots of chocolate. Hey, this is my analogy. OK, God's boat belongs to everyone. I know.
Best of all, God would be there. We'd be so happy. In my last post I talked about getting out of the boat. Taking chances and being who God planned for us to become. But in God's boat, who would want to leave? We'd be with the most secure Life Preserver known to us!

God's Boat

This summer I have been doing a Bible study with a very special group of ladies. We are working through "So Long, Insecurity". It is a Beth Moore Bible study and if you know Miss Beth like I do, it is awesome. I highly recommend it.
This study has taught me so many things. For example, insecurity is a lie of the enemy. Security in God is a gift. Let go of the hurts of this life and let God heal you. Trust God you big goofball. We are all insecure-all of us. And much, much more.
I've heard the story of Peter seeing Jesus walking on the water and getting out of the boat to be with Him a million times. But as is Miss Beth's grab-you-by-the heart-to-give-you-an-aha moment she once again pointed out a few jewels. Peter was the only disciple to jump out of that boat. Sure, maybe he was zealous. But he was also the only one to leave the safety of his craft. Speaking of craft, he was a fisherman. He knew the sea. Unpredictable black water. Wind gusts coming out of nowhere. Dark, cold depth.
Still, he got out.
He stayed on top of the water as he walked out to Jesus. Why? His eyes were focused on his Savior. No fear. But, and there always is a but with us humans, when he looked down he began to sink. He took his eyes off of Jesus. As my Dad used to say, "Let that be a lesson to you."
Of course Jesus reached down to save Peter. He does the same for us when we take our eyes off him. We look around and get scared. And then, sadly, we start to sink.
Here's an idea. What if we jumped out of our boats-our safety zones-and kept our eyes on Jesus? Imagine the possibilities! Talents realized! No more wasted time! And the peace! Heaven sent-literally. Ready to lay those oars aside? Jesus is waiting to catch your eye...Ready, Set...JUMP!

God's Parents

As I sit down to write this I must first make a disclaimer. If I repeat titles or even subject matter I apologize. I go with where the Spirit leads.
Having said this, I'm recording this today with a heavy heart. Things have changed drastically in the past week for my family. My father has more than likely suffered another stroke. He's doing okay but is recuperating in the nursing home of my home town. Two minutes away from my mom, seven from my brother and thirty from my sister. My youngest sister and I split an even three and a half hours distance, respectfully. My dad will receive physical therapy, occupational therapy and whatever else type of therapy the doctor deems necessary.
My father of course didn't want to go. No one wants him there. We all know he'd rest better and feel better at home with my mom, his wife of almost forty eight years. But, he needs to be there to hopefully get stronger so he can come home. Very, very soon we all hope.
I wouldn't say my dad and I are especially close. I would say without him, I wouldn't be the person I am. He's the reason I stayed at college. Homesick and crying on the phone, doing my best Scarlett,' "I'm coming home if I have to walk every step of the way,' " my dad empathesized with me. "I was only an hour away from home at school and I wanted to go home too. There's nothing like being homesick. But you have to stay for a year. We'll lose too much money if you don't. So, buck up-you can do it." And I did.
After my first sort of boyfriend broke up with me, I was of course devastated. Dad told me, "It hurts now I know. But one day, you'll meet someone who's everything you've ever looked for." And I did.
Most of the time, when things were wrong I went to my mom. We'd talk for hours. On the rare occasion my dad and I would talk, it wasn't for long. But it was always good. To the point. Advice that was straight forward and healing.
Believe it or not, I try to do that with my kids. Sure, I'm a verbose woman but sometimes a little goes a long way. Another lesson learned from him.
Maybe my dad and I are closer than I realize. Whatever our relationship-the ups and downs of it all-I do love him. I am proud of him and proud to be his daughter. And whether he comes home to my mom or to his heavenly home with God, I know we will all be at peace for him.

God's Family

Family. The word alone can bring tears of happiness, shouts of joy or rumblings of anger. Blood is thicker than water. Really? Then why at times does the blood that connects us seem a little too watery?
There are many reasons for strife in our families. Someone says or does something meaning no harm but feelings get hurt anyway. Someone is forgotten accidently from the family reunion of cousins too numerous to count. A promised item from a recently deceased loved one is given to another. And so on...
Then there are the families who get along beautifully. Take family vacations together. Take sewing classes together. Bake grandma's secret cookie recipe together. They are perfect. Or at least appear to be.
Some families really are close. Not perfect and they'll be the first to admit it, but close all the same. Laughing and loving and arguing. But loving first and foremost.
In reality, all families have some form of strife. It's called sin. Strife just sounds nicer. Who talks about sin anymore, besides your pastor? Whether we talk about it or not, call it what it is or not, it is still there. And so is forgiveness if we let it be.
Forgiving isn't so easy. It means we have to let go of being right and admit maybe we were in the wrong too. It means we stop dwelling on our feelings and try to understand someone else's. Not easy. Yet extremely doable when we hand over our upset to God.
His family is perfect. And so is His love for us. Unconditional love. And as for understanding, who "gets us" better than God? He made us and we are His children. He is our Father. The perfect parent. Wow. So our family is made perfect in Him? Which means we are made perfect in Him?
Now there's a family tree I'd like to climb and whose shade I'd like to rest in for awhile.

God's Basement

This past Fourth of July weekend we-my sibs and our spouses-helped clean out my parents' basement. Despite the strong smell of mildew and everyone's strong suspicions of mold growing wild, we pretty much got rid of it all. Lots of memories were relived as we went through old yearbooks, old pictures, old clothes, old toys and old everything else.
I found out alot about my family. We can come together to aid our parents without killing one another. We work very well as a team. And my sister is a toy thief. While going through her old boxes of toys she announced, "I don't remember this doll." I turned to find a lump rising as I saw one of my most beloved dolls. "Baby Jenny!" I exclaimed grabbing her from my sister. Okay, okay. I love my sister. And she really isn't a baby doll thief. She is a baby doll kidnapper.
My mother found many things she didn't want to part with. This is understandable. We've all gone through the I-used-to-love-it-but-now-it's-time to-say-goodbye syndrome. Especially hard are the items that belonged to her parents. I reminded her she had a lot of special things from her parents and there just wasn't room for her to keep lots of it. She agreed readily and reluctantly. In the end it was all good.
I started to think how we at times live our lives in the basement of our making. All those memories crowding in can be a blessing. For some of us though, it can be a curse. Cleaning out the corners and getting rid of old memories-the painful ones-isn't always easy. Holding onto the sweet recollections is painful too though in a good way as we realize how much we miss our loved ones who have gone home to Jesus.
What if we could give the hurtful past over to God to throw on the trash heap? He'd haul it away and take it to the dump for us. What if the things we refused to get rid of were only the good, happy memories that make us laugh and sometimes cry in a good way? We tend to forget God not only can do this for us but wants to do it for us.
We threw away a lot of trash this past weekend. The pile was huge! There was a certain satisfaction in the purge. My parents were relieved to have it done. I was glad to walk away with some treasures. Treasured memories of God's goodness in my life. Past, present and future.