Spring

“Look, the winter is past, and the rains are over and gone. 12 The flowers are springing up,
    the season of singing birds has come, and the cooing of turtledoves fills the air.” Song of Solomon 2:11-12 (NLT)

It’s been a few days since I was able to walk and enjoy being outside. This morning I walked to the mailbox and marveled at the bursts of pink, red, white, yellow and green.

I immediately went back in time to my fourth grade year at school. The spring of that year our class did a program on poetry. I loved it. One of the poems we recited was “in just spring’ by ee cummings. Each year I remember the verse and recite it in my mind.

This poet always intrigued me as he didn’t follow any grammar rules and he just wrote.

As I finished reciting this to myself I looked at my driveway, a bit soft from the rains the other night, and almost mud-lucious. I recalled the smell of spring growing up. The scent of mud, blackened snow,lilacs,and trees coming back to life. The air was familiar today and I thanked God for such a day as this.

Spring is a new season, it is birthed by the burst of pollen and trees, leaves, and daffodils. It is like a call from our Lord to awake and renew.

This season I look for the newness of the season and know that with each physical season of life, there is a spiritual one that accompanies it. Lord, awaken me to be renewed in You and burst forth with a freshness and vitality that matches the budding of nature around me.

Peace

“Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you.” I Peter 5:7 (NLT)

I had a pre-op appointment this morning. I usually do not fret over appointments, as I know they are necessary.

However there are two things that I will become anxious about if I dwell on them. They are also the two things the enemy brings to mind with every appointment.

The first one is a common one. It begins with, “Step on the scale and let’s see what you weigh.” Those dreaded words. I always picture alarms going off and bells ringing and lights flashing like a game show host calling down a contestant. Let’s see how much this one weighs! I glance at my clothes and although I have planned on wearing the lightest clothes I have, I still wonder if anyone would notice if I was just in my underwear. But, I wouldn’t want to scar anyone. My sister dated a lightweight wrestler in high school. He confided that if you lean forward you could make weight for the match. I think of him each time I step on the scale. I don’t do that now as with my balance not always at 100% I figure I would lean forward and crack my head on the wall behind the scale.

The second thing I can stress about is when they slap that cuff around you and start pumping up, and it gets tighter and tighter on you. Again, in my head I imagine springs bursting off of the blood pressure machine, the cuff blowing up and people asking how I am still alive. Today the machine was not working correctly, so after four tries the fifth time it recorded it correctly, up to that point, it would just turn off. So, switching arms and waiting a minute it worked.

Other than those two things you can poke, prod and push me and I am okay. I know those two things the enemy of our souls uses to get me upset.

But, I have a secret weapon. The scripture above and a worship song that goes with this scripture, He is our Peace.

Whenever I have an issue or a problem or a situation where I know I could become off center, I start to sing this song and I know without a doubt, that my Peace will be there, breaking down walls and taking any and all of cares upon Him.

Gotta Love a Sense of Humor

“And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.” Philippians 1:6 (NLT)

I have always felt that God has a sense of humor. Even more so, His humor is compatible with mine. I love to laugh and for those who know me, know that I have some remark to make for about everything. Fortunately, those who know me still love me.

Last week I had a skin cancer removed. It was right by my nose and into my cheek a bit. After the biopsy a few months ago, the dermatologist’s office called to schedule the appointment to have it removed and said at the time that I would need to have a plastic surgeon close it up since it was in a weird place.

I have laughed and joked about it since then. I have said that I am going to have a nose job. I figured the plastic surgeon would come in do a few fancy stitches and I’d go on my way. That’s what I thought.

Turns out it’s a bit more involved. But, that’s another story.

Last Friday I washed my face for the last time with the factory installed parts. That’s what came to mind as I washed my face. I laughed. I knew it was the Lord giving me those thoughts. I laughed, He laughed. I came out of the bathroom and mentioned that I was going to have some after market replacements. Dale, who is a car buff (that statement downplayed his enthusiasm) said, no, they are repurposing parts. He laughed, I laughed. It was very light hearted.

But, on the serious side, I have been frustrated that because of this, I cannot be available to head to my oldest daughter’s home while she is having radiation after her surgery. On this, I have not laughed. I have grumbled and complained.

Talking with friends, they all encourage me to take care of myself and put the rest in God’s hands. I know that all of this has not escaped the Lord’s attention. I know none of this has moved Him off His throne of grace. I know He is not wringing His hands wondering what to do next. He has a plan.

This morning as I read my devotion from Max Lucado,, I read the above verse. The devotional talked about being a work of God’s hands. I have read this page several times before, but a sentence came out and hit me in the face, “See yourself for what you are – God’s personal remodeling project”

I laughed out loud! I truly believe that the Lord allowed me to see this in all my grumbling. He is remodeling. Me. I’m His project.

God has a sense of humor. He has to. He created me. My factory issued parts are gone. The next few steps are remodeling. He gives me joy when I am not looking for it. He makes me laugh when I want to grumble. I can’t wait to see how this project ends!

Bruised

“A bruised reed He will not break,” Matthew 12:20 a (NKJV)

I just finished listening to the livestream of our church service. I watched from home this morning and, as always, was blessed by the fresh bread given by our Pastor.

As he read this scripture this morning and spoke his message, I remembered a time in my life where I was bruised. Emotionally I was bruised, not wounded deeply, but bruised enough that I kept hitting it up against something or someone and I was emotionally sore.

Our pastor hit on things like this and although what happened to me years and years ago, it resonated and brought it back fresh to my mind.

For a while in San Diego I felt worthless, useless, less than okay. It was reemphasized through many of my companions at the time. It was often brought to my attention that my hair was not done right, my clothes were not in fashion, my make up was out of date, that my house was not clean enough. According to many this was because I wasn’t spiritual enough. I most likely wasn’t praying enough or reading my Bible enough.

Needless to say, guilt was heaped on me from all sides. Eventually many of those people exited my life and I continued on. Today’s sermon reminded me of those times, but, it also showed me that truly the bruised reed that I was was not broken. My distrust in people was restored by a loving group of women in my life who did not focus on the negative, but saw the best in me and encouraged me.

Upon leaving San Diego, the Lord put us where we are today. In a church that loves bruises. They are tender enough to gently hold you up, and tough enough to show you a reflection of your strength when the bruise is healed.

Healing comes in many ways, through doctors, through surgery, through medication, through love, faith, and prayer. I have experienced all these types of healing. But, as I reflect on my life, that time of bruising also was a gift to me. Through it all, I learned what not to be or do for others. I learned humility in being castigated. I learned to lean on to a Friend who never leaves me.

I now have experienced in the road I traveled. I once heard that you can only lead someone as far as you have been. I am awful with physical directions. If you are ever with me and I start walking one direction, do not follow, for it will be the wrong direction. But, the path I walked during that season of my life, I know it well. I will gently take a hand and lead through that and direct you to the end of that path. I know the way through and I definitely know Who is at the end of the path and Who will walk that path with anyone.

Selfishness

“Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves. Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too.” Philippians 2:3-4 (NLT)

We married young. I had an idea of what marriage would be, but, I confess it was based on Disney princess movies, and 50’s sitcoms like Donna Reed, Father Knows Best and like shows. What I needed back in 1974/75 was Roseann Barr.

So, the dream I had of marriage met with the reality of being a military spouse. They came crashing together abruptly two days after I said “I do”.

This caused anger in me. An undefined anger and resentment. It continued even after our salvation experience. People talk of great testimonies of being saved from addiction, vile life styles, crime and they are incredible testimonies. Not many people will testify that on the outside they looked good, and all together. Actually, I have never heard a person stand up and say, “I was an angry woman. I had resentment up to my eyeballs. I was redeemed from this.”

We don’t hear things like this because we are selfish. Everyone has a measure of selfishness in them. I am no different.

Today as I ironed Dale’s shirt the Lord walked me down memory lane. It was not a good memory trip.

“Instead, “If your enemies are hungry, feed them. If they are thirsty, give them something to drink. In doing this, you will heap  burning coals of shame on their heads.” Romans 12:20 (NLT)

This scripture came to mind shortly into my trip down memory lane this morning. I was enjoying ironing a shirt for Dale (I know, but I like to iron). I could almost hear the Lord laughing at me when I pressed the wrinkles out of the shirt. That is when my memory lane started.

I remember how much I hated to iron when we were first married. The creases that needed to be in the uniforms, the precision that needed to be there.

Sometimes being married to a Navy man who likes perfection was more than I could bear. Hence, the anger and resentment.

One day I was complaining loudly to the Lord about that man He blessed me with. And the scripture in Romans came to mind. I determined then, years and years ago, to do everything as perfect as I could, hoping to heap lots and lots of burning coals on Dale’s head.

At first I can remember growling over the things I did, seeing that he did not notice or stand up to applaud me. But, I continued to do so, praying for him to notice my diligence. I was doing things out of a selfish motive. I would do this, but, I wanted him to see me and lavish affection and gifts over me.

Years passed, I gritted my teeth many times. I whined to the Lord that I was not being appreciated. I refused to quit “heaping burning coals” on Dale’s head. After all, I was going that extra mile. I was being selfish.

Slowly I realized that as I ironed shirts and uniforms, my prayers were changing. Instead of praying for notice of my perfect creases in the shirts and pants, I was praying for my husband while he wore these uniforms and clothes.

I had found joy in the doing and without realizing it at the time, I was actually heaping burning coals upon myself. The coals finally burned through that selfishness and anger, revealing a love that was dormant for my husband.

I once heard a pastor say regarding marriage, “What ever was strong enough to draw you down the aisle, should be strong enough to keep you there.” There are a lot of arguments about that statement, but, to me, it made me realize that the young love I had when I married was indeed strong enough to keep me in the marriage.

When dreams and reality crash dynamics change. Continuing to be selfish does not help matters. After 48 years of marriage I can honestly say, I am still a bit selfish. I still want that applause and recognition from Dale. WE all crave that from our spouse, family, friends. But, the peace, and joy and satisfaction that with God’s help and strength, I can look at what I accomplish and say to our Lord, “Here is my effort. I may be more of a Roseann Barr type of Mom and wife, than a Donna Reed wife and mom, but this is from me. May it find worth in Your eyes.”

Remembering

“I remember the days of old. I ponder all your great works and think about what you have done.” Psalm 143:5 (NLT)

I have been studying the Psalms. It’s a book of the Bible that is easy to turn to. There is a psalm for each mood, question, situation. In the Psalms I have found strength and encouragement. It is never redundant to me. I have actually spent years of turning to Psalms when I had no understanding of how or what to read.

When going through a long depression, Psalms were what kept my breath coming and let me continue in my days. The encouragement to know that what I was feeling and going through David wrote about.

My tears in reading the Psalms have sometimes matched the tears that fell when the words were written down.

God is like that. He is new every day. His word is life and new. He spoke through kings and prophets and donkeys. When I settle myself and quiet myself, I can hear Him. It’s not an audible voice, it’s not a windstorm that surrounds me. No, it’s this feeling deep inside me and the assurance that He is indeed speaking to me. Nothing earth shattering to the world, but, to me, it shatters my world. Breaking through dark trials, breaking through anger that I am holding on to, breaking through my doubt and fear and shining light on my days.

I choose to remember all the Lord has led me to and through. He is my strength, my comfort, my friend. He’s the same always and I know He isn’t done with me yet.

Today, I choose to remember and stand firm on Him. I know I won’t be disappointed. God is so good.

Labyrinth

“An intricate structure of interconnecting passages through which it is difficult to find one’s way; a maze.”

This past Monday evening we had the joy of going to a concert. It was held at a local college and the event was black tie. It has been years since we have gotten dressed up for such an event and it was fun to get ready.

The concert was Chanticleer a male vocal group. The concert was titled Labyrinth, and the men sang a variety of pieces from many different genres. They compared a labyrinth to life. An interesting concept that obviously got my attention.

A few observations I made throughout the evening. The sold out event meant that seats were at a premium. The couple we went with sat apart from each other and us. We sat down and almost immediately were immersed in two different conversations. Both were lively and the gentleman beside me introduced himself and his wife. This amazed me as we have gone to many events like this but we have never experienced the warmth from fellow concert goers. Dale and I remarked how unusual this was.

The people in attendance were mostly senior citizens. Dressed in finery and Southern gentility oozed around us. The politeness, the grace and the quiet respect one to another was obvious. I have seen this before, but, it always amazes me. When learning that we would be moving to South Carolina, I told Dale that I could never be genteel. Monday evening I once more marveled at my surroundings and hoped that I would not blow my cover of being a Yankee in the South.

The concert went on and finished with several curtain calls. All well deserved. Finally the group appeared back on stage for an encore. This group who had sung traditional songs, spiritual songs began to sing Queens, “Find Me Somebody to Love”. As I enjoyed the rendition, I looked around me. These genteel folks, all dressed in black tie and formals, these folks with graying hair and stern appearance, began bobbing their heads in beat to the music. I looked beside me and the gentleman who sat there began to tap his foot, his head bobbed and he quietly sang along. I really don’t know which was better, the song or the audience.

Finally, the idea of a labyrinth being like life spoke to me. Life is like that. We can be heading in one direction and come to a dead end. Sometimes we don’t know which way to turn, sometimes we back track. Life is an adventure.

We have all experienced these points in life.

“This is what the Lord says: “Stop at the crossroads and look around. Ask for the old, godly way, and walk in it. Travel its path, and you will find rest for your souls.” Jeremiah 6:6a (NLT)

Today, as I meander through this labyrinth of life I am going to stop and look around.

Memories and Tears

“And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” Matthew 28:20b (NLT)

Last night we had a dinner at our church. The woman who planned and brought to life the event did so with perfection. The theme was Walking in Love. A sort of Valentine’s dinner which also served as a Pastor’s Appreciation. The food, decorations and time together was amazing. We also had a time of worship, singing older songs of praise. It was a precious time in the Lord. The song transported me back in time.

We lived in Bangor, Maine in Air Force housing. A two story home with a basement. White birch trees lined our yard. It was a lovely home and situation. Our oldest was almost six months old when we moved in.

As with most babies, nights were interrupted by crying and fussing. I don’t know why people say to sleep like a baby as they are usually awake at least three times during the night. Ours was no different.

As winter approached, when she awoke, I would put on my heavy bathrobe and slippers. I would grab her yellow printed quilt from Japan. It was a beautiful gift of a baby futon, not the foam kind we are used to, but a fluffy blanket that would be like a comforter.

I would head down the steps in the cool night and head to my bentwood rocker. Positioning ourselves and making certain both of us were fully covered and cozy. I would draw her close to me and begin to sing. We had a string of songs, some lullabies and a lot of worship songs. I would go through the line up of songs and then sing one over and over. There were no cell phones then to hold and keep me distracted. Only the darkness, my baby and my singing.

The song would quiet her and quiet me. It would calm my frazzled young mother’s angst. My focus would shift from grumpiness of being awake, again to the quiet joyful peace of sitting in a darkened living room with my baby.The wind could be howling outside, driving snow across our yard and building up on our back door, but, I was wrapped in the peace of quiet with a snuggly baby in my arms.

I haven’t remembered those nights in years. Last night we sang the song I would sing over and over. The song started and I sang, enjoying the song itself. As we repeated the chorus my throat stopped up, tears fell down my cheeks and I was once more sitting in the dark room holding my first born.

Our Lord is precious and kind. He recalls to us the times when, unbeknownst to me, He was beside me. Standing watch along with me as His beautiful creation of a child struggled with staying asleep. The impact that, in hindsight, I vividly recalled those seemingly endless nights, thinking all these years that I was alone, and I saw that He walked the floor with me and rocked with me also.

I am so grateful to have had that experience last night, in a crowded room and the Lord gave me this sweet, joyful, memory just for me. He knows each of us personally and He meets us where we are.

I love you, Lord
And I lift my voice

To worship you
Oh my soul rejoice
Take joy, my king
In what you hear
May it be a sweet sweet sound
In your ear

I love you, Lord
And I lift my voice
To worship you
Oh my soul rejoice
Take joy, my king
In what you hear
May it be a sweet sweet sound
In your ear

Revive Me (part 2)

This is what the Lord says: “Stop at the crossroads and look around. Ask for the old, godly way, and walk in it.
Travel its path, and you will find rest for your souls.” Jeremiah 6:16a (NLT)

The movie Jesus Revolution comes to theaters this week. I have been looking forward to seeing this film. As I have watched the trailers, I have been flooded with memories of how this event in the late 60’s early 70’s shaped my life.

I was 21 when we left for Japan. I was naive. I had little experience outside of growing up in northwestern Pennsylvania.

We were married when I was 19. We had no honeymoon since Dale needed to be back at work. So, therefore, on the way to Japan we had a few days in San Francisco while we waited for our flight overseas.

I had always wanted to go to San Francisco, especially in the 70’s. We had a glorious time there. We rented a car and drove to Sausalito which at the time was a hippie type community of artists and run down homes. It was a fascinating place to be, the air alive with all that Sausalito was. Artists, hippies, young people. To me, it was wonderful. We knew there were some Jesus Freaks in the midst of crowds and we tried to avoid them as well as the harikrishnas. We roamed all over the San Francisco area trying not to miss anything.

The day came for our flight. The sky was overcast and grey. That was when you dressed for flights. Military uniforms in public were frowned upon, after all, it was the early 70’s and military personnel were not held in esteem. So, Dale and I dressed for our flight. Him with his leisure suit and polyester shirt with the big collar and platform shoes and regulation haircut. Me, with my below the shoulder straight hair, long bangs and my fashionable pants suit, long bell bottoms and a poncho with colorful braiding around the edges, and birkenstocks. We were styling!

We landed in Japan, and began our life there. Families coming into the country were given a sponsor, someone to meet them at the airport and help them get settled. We were sponsors to a family coming into the country. We had exchanged letters and we knew they had been touched by the Jesus movement that had started in southern California and traveled up the west coast.

Looking back, meeting them at the airport was the beginning of my life changes. We were at the gate by customs and they walked out. A little boy who was seven, the woman with hair almost down to her hips and the sailor, clean cut, suit on, and carrying a guitar with stickers all over the case. My eyes immediately went to them. Jesus Saves, One Way, God is my pilot, all plastered on his guitar. I looked at Dale and in disdain I said, “Jesus Freaks.” They almost glowed even after the long flight. I immediately judged them.

They were not deterred by my judgement. As they have said, they loved us into the kingdom of God. They are still precious friends.

After becoming Jesus Freaks ourselves, we met a group of people from southern California. They became our Friday night fellowship, we worshiped,we prayed together, we saw and heard testimonies of God moving in our midst. We had an overflow of the Jesus movement on our Navy base. The teachings of Chuck Smith and Calvary Chapel reached us.

The other day I wrote about the revival happening on the college campus in Asbury, Ohio. A friend wrote a comment on my facebook page concerning the revival. At first I looked at the comment and wondered how I felt about it. It ran through my mind. He quoted Joel 2:28, ““And it shall come to pass afterward That I will pour out My Spirit on all flesh; Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, Your old men shall dream dreams, Your young men shall see visions.” (KNJV) He mentioned that this is not our revival, it is the young people’s.

He went on to say some things, but that is what hit me. It is the young people’s revival. When did I become the older woman who teaches the young women? When did I become the old men who dream? Inside I still feel young.

Since the 70’s we have talked about the end times. I never thought that they may come when I was old. Our young people for the most part have never experienced the worship like it’s happening now. They have never experienced the joy of corporate worship, standing with raised hands beside a total stranger and yet feeling a kinship with them. They haven’t heard testimonies in abundance of God’s salvation or healing or goodness. They have experienced their parent’s church or have never experienced church.

This week I have been both convicted and challenged and saddened. The excitement of the Jesus movement lives deep inside me. When I think of those times joy floods my being. I feel young, alive and those in my memories are young and vibrant. When I think of the Lord, in prayer, in church, I am young and alive, expecting to see what I saw so many years ago.  “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.” Hebrews 13:8 (NKJV)

I turned 68 last week. When I see clips of the revival, tears flood my eyes and my being praises God for the outpouring of His presence. These students and people who have been able to be in the midst of this will never be the same for they have experienced the power of the living God. I have to remind myself that although the 22 year old girl is still a part of me, the older woman I am today longs to have the unending energy of youth.

There is a reason old men dream dreams. Our days are settled, and for the most part quiet. The Lord has not left us, He just moves differently in us. We do not have the energy of the youth. We have lived our lives and know without doubt that our God never leaves us, that He has provided for our every need. He has walked with us through illness, through financial difficulties, through struggles with spouses and children. He is our comfort and friend.

The youth is discovering this. Some, for the first time. Yes, Lord, revive me. Your outpouring on the youth is happening, but, I know that You are not a respecter of persons and You can pour out revival even to this older generation.

Revive Me, Oh Lord

“For I will pour out water to quench your thirst and to irrigate your parched fields.
And I will pour out my Spirit on your descendants, and my blessing on your children.” Isaiah 44:3 (NLT)

Revival has come to us. In a college that many did not know about. Most likely a quiet campus, an ordinary campus. Then, the extraordinary happens. The Lord visits and stays. Hearts are changed. Lives are changed.

The video clips bring me to tears. I yearn to be in the middle of this. To worship purely and wholly.

I have long prayed for revival to hit this nation. I look for it. I wait expectantly. May the Holy Spirit flow through this nation, revealing the power of our Living God.

“Then, after doing all those things, I will pour out my Spirit upon all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy.
    Your old men will dream dreams, and your young men will see visions.” Joel 2:28 (NLT)

“Create in me a clean heart, O God.  Renew a loyal spirit within me.” Psalm 51:10 (NLT)