Harajuku

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Memory is more than a dustbin of time, stuffed with yesterday’s trash. Rather, memory is a glorious grab bag of the past from which one can at leisure pluck bittersweet experiences of times gone by and relive them. ~Hal Boyle, 1971

Tonight while preparing dinner, I pulled out my trusty meat mallet. It has served me well, in pounding meat, and I have used the smooth sides as a hammer. This evening it prompted sweet memories.

In the spring of 1978 I had a day out with a women who worked with my husband. We knew each other, not really well, but well enough to go on an outing together.

Part of living in Japan was going to various cities to see shrines. As a Christian, that sounds counter-productive, but these places were surrounded by beautiful gardens and architecture.

We boarded a train headed towards Tokyo. We got off in Shibuya at the Harajuku station. Coming down the steps there was a statue of a dog. It wasn’t until much later that I realized that the dog was pretty famous. The statue was Hachi, a loyal akita to his master.

We turned to the right of the station and headed toward the Meiji Shrine, a beautiful respite in a busy city. We each picked up a book about the shrine, mostly pictures and very little English.

We walked back through town. It had to have been one of the most fascinating places I have ever been to. We went through the shops, where I picked up my meat mallet and I am certain there were other things I bought.

We decided to stop at a street side cafe. We ordered a coffee and we both felt sophisticated. We felt sophisticated until our coffee arrived. That is the point where two small town girls showed their true colors. The coffee arrived in small cups. We had no idea that we had ordered espresso. Neither of us had seen or tasted it before. I am certain people were appalled at how much sugar and cream we managed to put into the espresso cups.

However, we did sip at our coffee and people watch. At that time Harajuku was a Diplomatic city where people from every nation lived. Sitting at the table on that street we heard so many languages. It was a glorious spring afternoon as we watched nations going by and marveled at the clothing and the accents. It was an impromptu fashion gathering of European countries, some American and of course the exquisite kimonos walking beside our little cafe table.

We boarded the train back to our homes, but we took a little side trip. We went to Kamakura to see the great Buddha. Honestly, I know I saw it, but, I was more excited about our next stop which was McDonald’s. Normally a stop to a fast food restaurant is not exciting. Most people would think that the great Buddha was much more exciting than McDonald’s, but to this young American who hadn’t had a big mac in over two years, McD’s took priority. The burger, fries and coke was over $35.00, but each bite was worth the cost.

I don’t know why that day came back so clearly to me this evening, but it did. Memories are like a scrap book in our mind. We can open it and look back and remember. I came from a small Pennsylvania city. I never thought I would see much outside the state. I was blessed, though to live in Japan for three years. I was blessed to experience the sights and sounds and smells. They are imprinted in my mind.

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning. James 1:17 (NKJV)

Rose of Sharon

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Joy of my desire, all consuming fire; Lord of glory, Rose of Sharon, rare and sweet. You are now my peace, Comforter and friend, wonderful, so beautiful, You are to me. I worship You in spirit and in truth.
Lord, I worship You in spirit and in truth.
There will never be a friend as dear to me, as You. Lyrics by Randy Rothwell

When this song was popular to sing in church services, I was, at that time, going through some difficult times. Many of my friends had left me. I felt alone and isolated.

Singing this one week in church, the words implanted themselves into my heart. I thought of my companions and began to learn what a friend is. A true friend is by your side in difficult times, they do not scatter to the winds. I found this verse and knew I was not alone. Psalm 55:12-14 in the NASB says “For it is not an enemy who taunts me, Then I could endure it; Nor is it one who hates me who has exalted himself against me, Then I could hide myself from him.  But it is you, a man my equal, My companion and my confidant;  We who had sweet fellowship together, Walked in the house of God among the commotion.”

We have a true friend in our Lord. Oftentimes we look upon Jesus as our Savior, our Deliverer, our Healer, as the One we worship. He is all of that, but He is our friend. He is by our side all the time. He knows us intimately. He knows our likes and dislikes. He knows what makes us laugh. That is a definition of a true friend. One who does not fail us or disappoint us.

What a friend we have in Jesus, All our sins and griefs to bear! What a privilege to carry Everything to God in prayer! Joseph M. Scriven 1855

How blessed I have been since emerging from that season that the Lord has blessed me with gifts of true friendship. He truly is the great God!

Drought

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O God, You are my God; Early will I seek You;
My soul thirsts for You; My flesh longs for You
In a dry and thirsty land Where there is no water. Psalms 63:1 (NKJV)

I had read this scripture many times in my life and although I understood it, I didn’t really understand it until we lived in San Diego, CA. One year in particular, I remember the drought being very hard.

There had been no rain for several months that year. The grasses died, the ground was dusty. It is during these times that you realize that the area is mostly desert, although with all the yards and irrigation it is hard to see. This year was an exception. Watering had been stopped. Certain days of certain weeks you could water your lawn. The heat would cause rolling black outs. Running electrical things was limited for the evenings. So all laundry was done at night. Fires happened all around the county. It was a parched area that we lived in.

It was during this time that I reread the above verse. I prayed, like many that year, for rain. A nice soaking rain that would water not only the land, but would fill up the reservoirs and dams. I longed to see some soft, green grass.

In the course of praying I concluded that the land was not the only thing that was withered. Inside I screamed for refreshing and renewal. I needed a spiritual watering where I emerged restored. John 7:37-38 says, “On the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried out, saying, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink.  He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.” (NKJV)

Thinking back on that time, I will never forget the feeling that came over me. The scriptures were brought alive to me. I had a visual of a dry and thirsty land and I could relate to the land. Often I return to that time and ask once more to be refreshed to be renewed, to be filled with the nourishing water for my thirsty soul.

Weary

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Weary: exhausted in strength, endurance, vigor or freshness. Mirriam-Webster

We all become weary. It hits us at once and sometimes out of nowhere. It envelopes us, like walking into a fog. We can feel it’s presence pushing in towards us.

Weariness is a daily occurrence for many. It is a constant companion. I remember feeling it when Dale was deployed for long periods of time. Waking up and putting my feet on the floor only to feel the heaviness of another day with small children. Sighing, trying to clear the weight, knowing that I would get through the days ahead of me.

Single Mothers feel this weight all the time. Caregivers feel the same heaviness. Widows experience this also. We all get weary. Weary of our jobs, our lives, our chores, our ministry. Sometimes we just feel tired and weary. It affects us all.

The Bible talks a lot about weariness. Jeremiah 31:25 says,“I’ll refresh tired bodies;  I’ll restore tired souls.” (The Message) Isaiah 40:29 says,“He gives power to the weak and strength to the powerless.” (NLT) And finally, the one verse I go to when weariness strikes, Isaiah 61:3, “To console those who mourn in Zion, To give them beauty for ashes, The oil of joy for mourning, The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; That they may be called trees of righteousness, The planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.” (NKJV)

Lord God, touch those who are weary today. Where there is struggle in just breathing and taking a step, fill them with Your presence. Where hope has vanished, bring a glimmer back to them. Strengthen those who need a touch, heal those who are suffering. Encourage the downtrodden. Let them feel Your perfect presence in their lives giving them hope. Amen.

Clay

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Have Thine own way, Lord! Have Thine own way! Thou art the Potter, I am the clay. Mold me and make me after Thy will, While I am waiting, yielded and still. ~ Adelaide A. Pollard © 1907

I recall in art class in my freshman year of high school, we had a course in pottery. We were each given a lump of clay. It was hard and not pliable. We spent a good week each in the class working the clay. It went from a brick to a mold-able mound. My hands ached throughout that week, yet it was an enjoyable experience.

Once the clay was ready to be shaped, our teacher gave us the option of using the potter’s wheel or making a free form object. I sat and watched a few students on the potter’s wheel. The clay would shift from the center causing a mis-formed object. Other times I would see the lump of clay go flying off the wheel, landing on the ground. It was upon seeing this that I decided to do a free formed project. The potter’s wheel intimidated me. I wanted no part of it.

2 “Go down to the potter’s shop, and I will speak to you there.” 3 So I did as he told me and found the potter working at his wheel. 4 But the jar he was making did not turn out as he had hoped, so he crushed it into a lump of clay again and started over. 5 Then the Lord gave me this message: 6 “O Israel, can I not do to you as this potter has done to his clay? As the clay is in the potter’s hand, so are you in my hand.” Jeremiah 18:2-6 (NLT)

While getting to know and draw closer to the Lord in my early twenties, I began to understand the potter’s wheel and clay. Even more so after visiting the city of Mashiko in the Tochigi Prefecture. The city was three and half hours from where we lived by train. It is a city of artists and although the pictures show a thriving metropolitan area, when we visited over 40 years ago, it was a village with artisans working in cave like areas.

Each artist had their products available and it was fascinating to see them work the clay into beautiful objects. The way the clay was worked on the wheel with deft hands. They understood the medium they worked with. There was a kinship between the clay, and the potter.

“What sorrow awaits those who argue with their Creator.  Does a clay pot argue with its maker? Does the clay dispute with the one who shapes it, saying,     ‘Stop, you’re doing it wrong!’ Does the pot exclaim,     ‘How clumsy can you be?’ Isaiah 45:9 (NLT)

Our lives are being shaped and molded by the Master Potter, God. When we allow ourselves to be worked by our Creator, we will see a masterpiece in the making. He makes no mistakes, He who has created this world with it’s beauty is waiting to make a beautiful piece of art with us.

My vase from Mashiko

Today

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37 “When the Son of Man returns, it will be like it was in Noah’s day. 38 In those days before the flood, the people were enjoying banquets and parties and weddings right up to the time Noah entered his boat. 39 People didn’t realize what was going to happen until the flood came and swept them all away. That is the way it will be when the Son of Man comes. Matthew 24:37-39 (NLT)

Early this morning I received a message from a dear friend. She told me that her father only had a few hours left to his life. He holds a special place in my heart. The times that I have spent with him have been times of laughter and humor and comfort. His presence exuded comfort. He felt like a Dad when you were near him. Since it had been many years since my own Dad had passed, I loved receiving his hugs. Dad hugs are, in my experience, a comforting and peaceful thing. My thoughts and prayers have been with her throughout the day as she is going through this heart-wrenching time.

Later in the day I went to do errands. As I had parked and was heading into the store, I heard a car driving with loud music. It pulled into the space and the music stopped. I looked at the young man as he got out of his vehicle and told him I loved his music. It was Gospel Worship and I could have listened for the next few hours. We chatted a bit and we parted smiling. We had a mini conversation about our Lord. It was wonderful and left me smiling. After all, we all need a dose of the Holy Spirit when heading into Walmart.

As I was heading home, a fire truck with it’s lights on and siren blaring, raced down the street. It disappeared quickly and I wondered where it was headed to. I always pray for the first responders when I see a fire truck or ambulance, it’s just habit. I drove towards the grocery store and off to my left I saw a plume of dark smoke.

Having lived in Southern California for years, the sight of smoke raises concern in me immediately. I watched the smoke and knew that was where the fire truck was rushing too. The smoke lightened in color and I knew the first bout of water had hit the fire. The closer I went to the location the darker the smoke was. I thought it might be a construction fire, but it was a home. The smoke engulfed the house and the fire was sustaining itself.

After getting my groceries and heading home, I thought of the above verse. We each wake up daily with our list of things we want to accomplish. We think of friends and neighbors, we may pray for them. We don’t always know how their day is going. Today, someone was losing the patriarch of their family. Someone was rejoicing in the Lord. A family lost their home today. Memories with each situation were created or destroyed this day.

We do not know what a day holds for us. We may plan many things to do. We may not be able to finish them.

We plan the way we want to live,
    but only God makes us able to live it. Proverbs 16:9 (The Message)

Anxious No More

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Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7 (NKJV)

In starting this blog, I determined to be open and honest. I wanted to be real in talking about my relationship with our Lord and I wanted to be open about my experiences. Thus far it has been easy. This one is like that dream you have of being in middle school and walking down the halls undressed. I approach this blog with an amount of hesitancy.

Shortly after the birth of our youngest, I was hit with major depression. I was 28 at the time, my husband was out to sea, and I bought and moved into our first home a week before our daughter was born. I also had a 4 year old. At first glance, that’s Navy life, and baby blues. Not a big deal.

However that depression continued on from my late twenties and into my thirties. I went to counseling and physicians to no avail. That is when I turned to the Great Physician. It was a distressing time but also a season of growth and education for me.

Along with depression and anxiety, I had a constant companion of fear. I was afraid of everything. Someone could stub their toe in Antarctica and I would be thinking it was going to affect my home life. I was consumed with the what ifs.

Finally I was put in touch with the right physician and found a conclusion for this mental debilitation. The situation was taken care of and I healed physically, emotionally and mentally. It was a long drab season though.

Throughout this period of time, I wrote, prayed, listened, tried diets and anything I could think of. From the start there were two scriptures that I clung to. I repeated and read the one above and this one. 2 Timothy 1:7 says, “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” (NKJV)

I would repeat, pray, yell the part of a sound mind. I stood upon that word. I still cling to it.

Do I regret that time of my life? Am I ashamed of it? No. It was during this season of my life where I learned to trust my God. He never left me during this time. He was beside me with each appointment. He was with me during sleepless nights where I wondered if the world would be better without me. He was there when I spent nights crying. He was there. He was there. He was there. And because He was there, I am here, able to talk about this.

I do not think I would be me the way I am without that season. It shaped and molded me. I learned strength. I learned faith. I learned to trust in the Word.

Am I saying I now do not have a bout of depression, anxiety or fear? No, I am human and we are still on this chaotic earth. I know where I have come from. I rest knowing I have a loving God who is there for me. When I face the things that crippled me so long ago, I look at it through eyes of a veteran who has faced the battle of depression, fear and anxiety. The battle has been fought. I have survived. I have the tools to squash these enemies. Most of all, I have a God, who still is beside me giving me strength.

We who have run for our very lives to God have every reason to grab the promised hope with both hands and never let go. It’s an unbreakable spiritual lifeline, reaching past all appearances right to the very presence of God where Jesus, running on ahead of us, has taken up his permanent post as high priest for us, in the order of Melchizedek. Hebrews6: 18-20 (The Message)

Prayer

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“God speaks in the silence of the heart. Listening is the beginning of prayer.” Unknown

We all enjoy conversations with one another. There are some conversations where the tone is light, airy and superficial. Other chats may become deep in revelation with one another. Exchanges with people can cover all areas or no areas at all. I think we have all experienced varieties of discussion.

I first learned about prayer that was not a rote prayer from a nun in my eighth grade year. Sister Kevin opened a class one day and introduced us to having a time of conversing with God. Growing up with reciting prayers from memory, this was a novel idea for me. But that lesson remained with me and still today I think back on that class.

Over the years I have been part of several courses on prayer. I often go back to the basic thought of conversation. When greeting someone, we do not carry on a one sided conversation. We allow the other person to respond and add to the exchange. (of course I have had those who don’t let you get a word in edge-wise also)

The same is true when starting a conversation with our Lord. He is not a jolly Santa who we come to and list our wants and desires and walk away with a treat. No, He is our Creator. He formed us in the wombs of our mothers. He knows the number of hairs on our head. He is intimately aware of how our body works and functions. And He longs to talk with us.

I am guilty of treating Him like a vending machine, expecting immediate results. That is one problem in this instant world of ours. Something breaks in the house? Go buy another. Hungry? Put something in the microwave and zap it. There are immediate answers for everything we set our eyes upon.

We just experienced a power outage at our home. In the seven years we have lived here, this has been the longest time without electricity. It was out for about an hour. It’s a very windy day. A tree had fallen on a line on the main road and that was the culprit. It is now fixed and things are once more humming in the house.

During that hour I went out to walk. The wind was whisking leaves around me, but there was a stillness I was aware of. Something was different.

As I was talking with the Lord while walking, I was impressed that sometimes our lives need to come to a halt. A time to quiet ourselves and listen. We may just hear the wind. We may hear a still small voice. Often, I hear a loud clearing of a throat and words telling me to stop and listen. Such was today on my walk. Our Lord wants to talk with us.

The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, And His ears are open to their cry. Psalm 34:15 (NKJV)

First Love

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“There’s no love like the first.” – Nicholas Sparks

We all remember our first love. It is the one that awakened feelings never felt before. It usually is our first heartbreak. It follows you into each relationship you have after.

My first love happened at the city pool in the summer of 1969. He was a few months older than me. He stood several inches taller than me. We had a brief stint as boyfriend/girlfriend and by August of 1969, my heart was shattered into pieces, some of which I never really recovered. It was in August of 1969 that I put myself on guard. I determined that I would never again suffer the heartbreak that I had become well versed in. Such is the thought of a high school freshman.

A few years later I was engaged to my high school sweetheart, preparing for a life as a Navy wife. No, it was not the same man, but he has been my sweetheart for the past 50 years.

I would like to say that it has been sweet music and laughter. I would like to say that, but it would not be true. The heartbreak I endeavored to avoid was a part of my life in our early marriage. I thought I would never again feel the joy, the unspeakable joy of a first love. And then, on Monday evening, April 18th, 1977, in Yokohama, Japan, we met our Lord in a personal way.

We were washed with joy. We were bathed and cleansed with love for one another. Each day gave birth to hope. We had a season of our first love with Jesus.

As with all loves, you cannot continue with emotional highs. It’s not like the love dwindles, but it becomes normal. It becomes your life. When I was first saved, I was I’m born again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now, it’s a matter of fact, I’m born again.

With time, love becomes a comfort. After 47 years of marriage, I am comfortable in my relationship with my husband. We know how the other works. We know what will make them comfortable, what pushes the wrong button. I know that after dessert, he will fall asleep. only to wake up and wonder why another show is on t.v.. He knows that I have this quirk that all the light switches have to be in the same position and he knows that I’ll growl if he messes them up. Our love is comfortable.

I know your deeds and your labor and perseverance, and that you cannot tolerate evil people, and you have put those who call themselves apostles to the test, and they are not, and you found them to be false;  and you have perseverance and have endured on account of My name, and have not become weary. But I have this against you, that you have left your first love. Therefore, remember from where you have fallen, and repent, and do the deeds you did at first; or else I am coming to you and I will remove your lamp-stand from its place—unless you repent. Revelation 2:2-5 (NASB)

However, how often in our relationships do we look at our spouse and wonder why things have become so ordinary. Each day is similar to the previous one. We know the love is there, and I can look at my husband and still see the 17 year old boy I fell for. That smile is now surrounded by a gray beard and thinning hair though.

Do we also become complacent with our relationship with our Lord? We are assured of His love toward us. Knowing that He is there in all aspects of our life, do we take that for granted? I often think of this verse in Revelation and ask to be returned to my first love of our God. The fervor of waking each day, anxious to see what He is going to do in my life, and wanting to be used of Him for great things. Too often I awake each morning, thanking Him for waking me up and giving Him the day only to walk into the kitchen and suddenly it is I who is going through the day.

The challenge is to start each day remembering Who it is that I serve. I serve an awesome God, a God to hears me when I pray, hears me when I cry. He is by my side when I feel alone. He will never leave me, nor forsake me. I am His. I am blessed.

“For the Lord your God is living among you. He is a mighty savior. He will take delight in you with gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs.” Zephaniah 3:17 (NLT)

Papa

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He went on a little farther and fell to the ground. He prayed that, if it were possible, the awful hour awaiting him might pass him by. Abba, Father,” he cried out, “everything is possible for you. Please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.” Mark 14:35-36 (NLT)

According to Strong’s Concordance, the term Abba means, “Father, customary title used of God in prayer. Abba, approximating a personal name, framed by the lips of infants betokens unreasoning trust. Father expresses an intelligent apprehension of the relationship by the child. The two together express the love and intelligent confidence of the child.” The New Strong’s Concordance.

The above verse shows Jesus’ relationship with His Father. He addresses Him with a child-like expression and an adult expression. We see His trust in His Father as He is about to go to the cross for us. In my opinion, this is a prayer for strength and compassion and trust in what is about to happen.

How often are we in a position where we want to pray like this? We know God is in control, that He loves us and yet do we approach Him in a child-like way? Do we have a child-like trust in Him? Knowing, from experience in times of looming appointments or situations I tend to allow dread to fill me instead of trust. In those times I have to put myself into a quiet place alone to truly remember that I trust in God to do what is appointed for me.

There is a man in our church who is an example to me when he prays. His prayers begin with ‘Papa’. A simple address for a mighty God. The first time I heard him pray I was stunned at such a familiar greeting. As he continued I realized that this man knows God. He spends time with Him and is accustomed talking with Him. There is no straight laced formality. He comes to our God and is honest with Him.

It is an incentive for me to get to the place in prayer where I can imagine myself crawling up into our Father’s lap, leaning in and listen to His heartbeat. When I was a child I remember being at an aunt’s house with my parents. The adults were sitting around the table talking and I climbed into my mother’s lap and sat curled up, listening to her heartbeat while she talked with the others at the table. It was a comforting moment in my memory. I have had those times in prayer also. Those are the times where I can truly say, Abba, Father, Papa, I trust you.

So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, “Abba, Father.” Romans 8:15 (NLT)