tapestry

reading a well written novel is like watching a finely woven tapestry come into being

rich scarlet, hunter, and indigo are introduced

cherry red and sunny butter creme are added

violet and navy danced into place

thread after thread are seamlessly woven into place

until

with breathless anticipation

as the final pages are read

a new masterpiece is formed

rich in texture

vibrant in hue

mezmerizing in detail

a new tapestry is given birth

and

the world is a richer place,

a more beautiful place

because of this new creation

a tiny piece falls away

my heart, finite as it is, is limited in space and capacity and ability.

it is filled with stuff; good and right and holy

AND

corruption and pain and failure

my heart is pieced together with a ragamuffin ribbon of events and experiences,

verses and hopes, promises and plagues, wonder and joy and horror and pain

this collection fragments,

falls to pieces at times.

today, a tiny piece of hope fell away.

i watched it fall.

expectations of what should be

hope of what might be

longing of all that would be

IF not for brokeness and illness.

today, a tiny piece broke away and it ripped and tore and bled a little.

i want so much for my son

the one set a apart

the one i dreamed would be different

the one i gave to God.

a tiny part of what I want fell away.

it's hurt and it's healing.

it's pain and it's growth.

his way will not be what i thought and

i wonder what will come into being,

what part will be filled in.

instead.

what color? what action? what purpose? what intent? what plan?

"faith is being sure of what I hope for and certain of what I do not see."

i'll follow.

blindly.

waiting for restoration,

waiting for a healed and whole heart.

who needs a god who

Who needs a god who blows up your child?

who doesn't prevent cancer?

who refuses to intervene when rape ravages, abuse deafens, war destroys?

Who needs a god who watches hurricanes plunder and tornadoes sweep the landscape clear?

who needs a god seemingly all powerful who rejects using that power to save?

If a god is any kind of god at all, he would prevent pain, remove injustice, stamp out abuse, destroy war.....right?

Let's see, I say he needs to prevent natural disasters, destroy evil murderers, remove dictators from power, punish rapist-abusive-destroyers.

Look closer. Who is the rapist? Why do they rape? Who is the warrior? Why does she fight? Why is the atmosphere on our planet so volatile that it produces storms that wreak havoc? What went wrong? It should be changed.

To what? Who decides what? Shall I step into the role of God? Shall I decide? determine? exact justice? Or maybe, I should assemble a panel of hand-picked experts. Then, we can chart the course for humanity.

It's true, if you believe that the only reason God exists to to spread horror. But look deeper. Go beyond your finite-limited-imperfect thinking. Seek ultimate truth. You'll discover that God is more than an enabler or a preventer of an event. It's so much bigger than that. So much more beyond. It will blow your mind, stretch your reality, it will be so much more than about you and what you determine is right or wrong.

faith begins when you get to the end....

i've recently, completely,

confidently observed,

that,

faith begins

when i get to the end of myself

when i see that i cannot solve it,

cannot explain it,

cannot fathom it, design it, complete it

faith begins when i relinquish control,

when i give up, surrendering my best efforts,

discovering that in and of myself

i am not everything.

faith begins when i see that i am not perfect,

i do not have all the answers,

i cannot master it,

it is beyond me

faith begins when i crave more than myself,

want more than i can offer,

desire even better than my

limitations,

faith begins when i dream of the limitless,

when my hope is bigger than all i can imagine

faith "is being sure of what i hope for and certain of what i do not see."

faith is the reason i dare to live this life.

i beg you, get to the end of yourself.

go beyond your limits,

search beyond your framework, your skills, your talents,

dig deeper than your mind,

explore greater than your heart,

and you will find unlimited rewards,

richer understanding, and outrageous love.

forgotten your first love

do you remember the moment you fell in love?

do you remember where you were, what you were doing, who you were with?

how did awareness come? Sudden and strong, gentle and soft?

moment by moment, realization dawning, or like a torrent?

gushing and rushing.....

do you remember? it's important.

do you remember? it's the beginning to a love story.

or have you forgotten your first love? Forgotten the taste, the touch, the sensation, the rush....

Return to me, you've forgotten me, love me as you did.

How? Painstaking discipline? Wishful thinking? How can I remember?

Pursue. Discover. Learn to love again.

where is His face?

Where is He?

in the morning storm, as it rolls and blows

in the cry of pain from an illness

in the wreck less, hopeless struggle to try

in the failing, falling, striving, and missing, yet again

in the daily struggle to be daily,

to do daily, to complete the list,

Where is His face?

in the midst of temptation and seduction,

in brokenness and laziness

Why are those voices louder? Stronger? More convincing and appealing?

His presence is in the before, during, and the after....

His face is ever before, always with, and neverleaving.....

He is. Simply, just is.

wash. rinse. repeat.

1. read, reflect, pray
2. run, skip, hop, jump
3. draw and dream
4. talk and listen, communicate and hear
5. watch and wonder
6. consider and ponder
7. sprint and sleep
8. go and go and go
9. wash, rinse, and repeat

mission

i drove on a sunny fall afternoon

listening to an inspiring preacher

talk about his family roots

roots steeped in

love for God and

love for family

and i wept.

my family is not like that;

we don't celebrate together,

share together,

sacrifice for each other.

we compete,

we strive,

we martyr,

we distance,

creating our own families, communities, religion with non-blood folk.

the legacy needs to be reinvented.

the words of God more closely followed.

the mission lived out.

and then i wondered,

pondering, visualizing, wrestling

with

my life mission

it's spiritual

it's pivotal

it's deep

i know these things,

but i couldn't remember what God has whispered long ago

When i sought.

in agony, in deep sadness, in panic

i wondered.

playing around with pieces of words in my head,

pondering, wondering, musing, managing phrase after phrase

it finally came.

to communicate God in a visual way.

the arboretum

it's the place where abundance lives;

where beauty, in it's vastness adores the pathways,

is frivolously poured out in the roads,

is lavished on the hillsides and tossed in the wind,

is ridiculously painted on the trees, and cleverly hidden in plain view,

endless streams of color and texture flowing, growing, changing melting,

this intensity is so vivid, so immense, that to trample on it, trod upon it, kick it up is completely ordinary and expected.

truth revealed

sometimes I'm buried so deep I can't see clearly.

I lose perspective; time ceases to have meaning, things blur together-slurred and unfocused

sometimes I stay in this state for weeks and months; forgetting what is real and eternal, what is sharp and pure and honest and true. sometimes I get lost, my attention is diverted, and I get disoriented. And then, there is a moment of clarity-a gift of honesty, a splash of cold water, a breath of fresh air, and in that moment, truth is revealed.

Truth came today;

I was desperate, running, searching,longing, and grieving.

Truth was spoken in that calm, quiet stillness, when only truth can be known, heard, and understood for what it is.

I learned two things about me today.

I learned that I expect to be abandoned and I think God is too demanding. These truths of the lies I believe are haunting and riveting, exhausting and yet precise. I live by these two lies. And they shape everything. They explain why I give up so quickly when people let me down, when volunteers don't make their commitments, when so called friends walk away.

They explain why I've been avoiding God, timid and cowering, afraid that what will be asked of me is too impossible, too hard, too much sacrifice, too high a price, too great a cost. This explains so much. This is why it's hard to lead. This is why I back down, this is what it means to stand up.

What's the lies you believe? How are they impacting your worldview? Your daily living? Your faith and your future?

what normal is

it's the buzz of the lawn mower circling the back yard,

it's the chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven,

it's the rush of a warm breeze,

it's the steady beat, the pounding lyric, the joy of worship,

it's the promise of family,

it's the dog chasing, the kid's running, the flurry of activity,

that's what normal is....

quiet moments contrasted against a constant of movement,

it's living in a state of tension, of the dreams yet realized,

it's unending, not stopping, continuous, ever-changing,

that's what normal is...

the crucible

how hot the fire

flames that burn

torment and strike

building pain and struggle

fierce

unending

merciless

when does the holiness come?

the righteousness?

the purity?

how hot the fire

how strong the flames

how long, how full, how relentless

in this crucible i lay?

tribute to grilled cheese

sometimes it's gooey

sometimes it's chewy

sometimes it's hard

sometimes it's smooth

it's bubbly with cheese, oozing everywhere

it's filling, it's fluffly, it's down right delicious

i love grilled cheese; for breakfast and dinner, snack time and lunch

grilled cheese is the perfect treat to munch

by noah and mom

the first step

it's a constant drip...drip...drip

it's an incessant fly buzzing around my ear

it's a babble, interference, static, it's low and continuous

it doesn't stop, my first thought competing with all other thoughts in the morning

it's the battleground. And it's in my mind.

everyday I wrestle with a barrage of the unthinkable to the bazaar, the fantastical to the fanciful.

contrast this scuttle, this twisted stream of nonsense with the clarion call

to purity,

to vision,

to mission,

to celebration.

That's the difference. I see it now.

Am I trained as a warrior? A soldier of the mind?

Did I ever think I'd be in the place?

Will the scars of previous skirmishes bring strength and wisdom,

or

will they only entrench me further in my foolish ways?

I am undisciplined, I lack consistency, routine is difficult for me; yet I am bound to them, the foundational pieces that bring health and wholeness. I don't have a choice, the battle rages regardless of my personal preference. It's the essence of being alive, this choosing of the minute by minute path to engage in the battle or stand by, to fight for victory, or be slain by sin. And while forgiveness is always present, it can be the fool's way out, to justify the actions rather than fighting hard...

It's a more noble thing to seek forgiveness while engaged in the battle than to lazily plead mercy for no real effort at all.

I don't have to be so defeated.

I have the weapons to fight.

The First step is to acknowledge the battle exists.

love is enough

hmmm...the sweet fragrance of love

it's enough.

enough to rest in the love that carries me through

uncertainty. and tension. and frustration. and mistakes. yes, lots of mistakes.

and love is enough to hold me through storm after storm.

struggle after flesh and blood struggle.

love is enough to support me when i feel alone.

it's enough to strengthen me when i am so weak. love brought me to this place, holds me tightly here, comforts and soothes, pours out anew every morning.

it's full and big and wide.

love is enough to answer my deepest doubts, my strongest regrets, my dreams and hopes.

love is enough and i am in love. and i will give love. and like my abba before me, i will be love.

healing reign

we stepped out, a ragamuffin, eclectic group of mixed gender, younger and older, full of hope, dreaming of the power of prayer and

we sought the favor of God.

we sought to bring a people further.

we sought to see His healing reign poured down.

we sought His glory.

and we sang and prayed, worshipped and spoke God's word, we danced and bowed down, we lifted up our hands and we humbly, in silence waited and watched and hoped.

we prayed for new jobs and physical healings and we prayed for renewed hope and we heard and witnessed His mighty, thunderous reign pour down.

He was there, in true community. And I was set free. My passion married my heart and I stood in awe.

He is God.

He is stirring our hearts.

He is Coming.

happy fools.

It's the tragedy i relate to better.

It's the sad story line of the dying mother or the tragically taken father. it's the orphan, alone and against the world that i identify with.

i long for beauty. i hope for peace. i want the happy ending. but it's the tragedy i recognize. its the denial i most understand. it's the longing.

why? we don't see, yet.

we are among the fallen. now.

it's not what it's supposed to be.

we have eternity within us, joined in our very marrow, inseparable from our very breath.

but the reality is we are here.

now.

spread hope.

communicate truth.

give joy.

even when you feeling the dying,

even when you witness the injustice,

even when you see the evil.

we will be seen as fools.

but we are happy fools.

sober, yet innocent. brave, yet mocked. and always miss understood.

we are happy fools.

it's the hole, deep and vast.

it's the yearning, a pull for something better.

it's the haunting, never a moment's thought away.

it's the inability to fix it myself.

it's the acknowledgement that it's beyond me.

it's surrender.

it's release.

it's purifying.

it's refining.

it's sacrifice.

it's desire to walk the path, identify with the one, do as He did, go as He went.

it's to be set apart.

it's willingly stepping into the place of suffering.

it's the dedication, the drive, the focus, and the hope.

O God, meet me in this place.

the path of one thought

communication; the complex exchange between an individual with another, the dynamic between an individual and media, the dialogue between an individual and their maker. Communication occurs when the process of a thought becomes words and is given breath, life, and is spoken forth.

interpretation of a thought. that's where the complexity lies. when a thought is spoken, meaning is added-by intonation, expression, and perception. From the giver, the bringer of the word to the receiver, the interpretation of the word can go from the meaning that was intended to perception and intention that violates the bringers' thought.

And that's the passage of one thought. Imagine that one thought multiplied by thousands of thoughts-some spoken and some unspoken. Imagine the complexity, the joy and wonder and the hurt and destruction that can occur when thoughts on a path don't make the target.

We were given life, we were given reasoning skills, we were given the ability to communicate. When we don't communicate; we suffer. Those around us suffer. When we shut down and close up, we distance ourselves from the community of others.

The passage of one thought needs to be spoken as powerfully as lungs need air and the heart needs blood.

Communicating with God-constant and dynamic. Communicating with others-certain and sure. Despite miss interpretation. Amongst ignorance and humility. Surrounded by vulnerability and risk of rejection. Speak. Give. Struggle. Share.

weeds to darkness, plants to light

approaching the overrun flower bed was intimidating,

the weeds had conquered.

reaching in to begin;

separating weed from flower

was so tedious

trailing each root to it's base, it was hard to see where the plant began and the weed ended

mixed together, one by one.

it takes patience, persistence, dedication, deliberation

it takes one step at a time, one weed pulled, one plant redeemed

at the base the weeds were so intense, light couldn't get in, the growth was stunted, impacted, the life of the plant shortened, the healthiness taken away

the darkness was taking over and the only way to bring light in was one weed at a time.

One weed at a time. One step at a time. It takes time to change. From dark to light. From weeds to plants. It takes ONE.

ONE who is faithful to the process.

ONE who is undaunted by the enormity of the situation.

ONE who knows, who navigates, who is patient and wise, ONE who loves, ONE who wants to help. ONE who redeems. ONE who saves.

anticipate i s a heightened state

Imagine living on adrenaline your whole life...or at least the awake parts.

Imagine waking up and moving either 100 mph or being comatose.

Imagine always expecting, always holding your breath, always wondering, always waiting.

Imagine anticipating and never living; fully, completely, abundantly living.

Anticipate is a heightened state.

It's full alert. It's code red. It's thinking faster, running harder, it's interrupting and never listening, it's blurred, it's fixed, it's focused, it's acute. It's rigorous and relentless. It's constant, unmet expectation. It's goals that are never achieved, or if achieved, never celebrated so that the next goal looms larger than the one before. It's emotionally deadening.

I've lived much of my life anticipating and never enjoying. Never just being.

Breathe in...one, two. Breathe out...one, two. Breathe in...one, two. Breathe out...one, two.

"Listen, my child. I have things to teach you. Watch, my child and pay attention to the wisdom I have to say. Slow down, my child, and live abundantly."

taking comfort in the leadership of a strong leader...

Dan developed this run 3 telephone poles and walk one telephone pole length as he is training for the 1/2 marathon. So, I decided I'd follow that method. And as mile after mile drifted by, I realized what comfort I find in trusting him as the leader. It's easy to follow a leader who is experienced, who has the best in mind for you, who will stop to encourage you, take care of you, and lead you. It's delightful to know that I am well cared for. It's reassuring to see that all my needs are taken care of...yes, it's still effort as I have to put one foot in front of the other. Yes, I can opt out and go it alone at any moment. Yes, following someone else means being dependent on them. But when the leader is proven, their actions supporting all your concerns, their love for you evident, why wouldn't you follow?

God is the perfect leader. Let's face it. He's been there, lived it through his son, Jesus, and he's conquered death to bring us into relationship with him. He removed all obstacles, shattered all barriers, endured and succeeded.

Why do I doubt him? If my human leader takes care of me, why would I doubt the perfection of my Father?

What's my abundance?

Lately, I've been thinking, what's my abundance?

As I take in the millions of helicopter maple tree sends taking over our yard, the road, the ditches, and the gutters, I see that there are places of abundance.

I see this in pine cones, too. There can be piles of them thoughtlessly, seemingly randomly lying around pine trees just begging to be picked up.

Consider green beans; a row is planted and bowls full of green beans can be harvested. Or tomatoes; an average year with three plants produces 300-400 tomatoes. It's crazy!

Abundance in nature is everywhere! I want to be abundant like that. So, I've been thinking, asking, and praying, what is my abundance? What's the limitless well I can draw life from? The work that is meaningful and rich and plentiful? That's how I want to live my life....

remember me

Jesus beckons us to remember him. Simple words. Easy to understand directions. No complex mathematical formula needed. Remember me. And yet I forget him.

I forget him as I drive in my car, as I weed the front flower bed, and as I mow the lawn.

I forget him as I grocery shop, get the oil changed in my car, and listen to the summer storms move in.

I forget him as I prepare my staff sheets for weekend programs, as I run to the library, and as I brush my teeth.

It feels so selfish, but at times I think that if I invited him in to the mundane and everyday, I'd have to live it his way and I couldn't be in the control.

So, here's the silly part...IF I invite Jesus into my car, my yard, my shopping experience, my ministry, my home, my kitchen table, and my bedroom...IF I do this, it will be exponentially better. Richer, more vibrant, more meaningful, more fun, more abundant.

Remember me. Simple words that take a lion's share of effort to live out.

stare and glaze

so as I am out and about, running mile after blessed mile, I've found this mantra that works for me. It's the stare and glaze mantra. I repeat this over and over. Here's the method behind the madness. I fixate on a sign post a quarter of a mile down the road, staring it down with all the intensity I can muster, and as my eyes glaze over, I reach my goal. Then, I do it again and again and again. As I ponder running 13.1 miles, I find that the more I fixate, then more the miles glide by. It's a bit of an obsession, an all consuming focus that rejects any interruption, any periphery activity....it's all that matters.

God is a jealous God. He is all consuming, desiring everything I have. Do I dare to live in Him with this stare and glaze lazer focus? What if I contemplated, meditated, delighted in, and rejoiced over his laws and his love? What if it were all I thought about, what would my life look like?

arts in the church

It doesn't take very long to see that God is visual, God is creative, God inspires beauty; it washes over me like a warm, sunny waterfall. I am sitting in a light-drenched hotel room coated in warm, natural hues of seafoam, lime, and burnt sienna in Southern California. I've decided I like Southern California a lot. It chases away any last thread of depression. Bright, inspiring colors, warm and happy images, lingering scents of flowers and this....this is everyday. And then there is the church I am visiting....arts are everywhere! Liturgical, Inspirational, Meditative....it relaxes and challenges and calls you to a more disciplined-more spirit led place. Arts in the church are critical, as much for the creative as for the analytical, the impulsive as for the steady and fixed, arts in the church expresses what the word, the conversation cannot. It brings context through images and ideas, calling the viewer to delight with a new thought, wrestle with a gripping translation, and worship, oh worship, the God who is unending and never beginning.....

loving with open hands

"Abs, we need to love with open hands. We need to love with the understanding that at any point we may loose all we have. We need to accept that what we love doesn't ultimately belong to us. We have to love without holding something captive, controlling it, exacting it to be what we want. Open hands, Abs, open hands."

I called 911 for my daughter, she was in distress and couldn't breath. Asthma. A disease that is cruel and bold, capturing it's victims by the simplest means...that of a breath. To rob a person of a breath, then another, then another.... And as the Medic team arrived, the Fire Chief, and the county officer; I shrank little by little in the background. I had to let go, to give her away to a capable team that could meet her needs better them me, that could give her what I couldn't give her, I had to love her as she sifted through my hands. She belongs to God and I get to guide her for a few moments, but when it all comes to the end, she isn't mine.

Silent tears pooled, emotions overflowed, and I let her go.

separate and at peace or together and broken

i want to be with them, to be understood, and to be accepted; but to walk among them means to be broken. How can this be? it's like examining puzzle piece after puzzle piece and finding that I don't know how they fit together. i am one of them in DNA, in historical record, in origin, in creation and yet i do not belong. if i walk among them, i deny who i am. if i sit with them, i ignore my inner spirit. if i talk with them, i am cautioning my thoughts, censoring my words, hiding my heart. blood may be thicker than water, but it does not create family, unity, community, originality, creativity, and diversity. this blood demands silence, and code, and hurt without justification, pain without reconciliation, self-centeredness with validation. accept what you see, do not question what you feel, betray your heart and walk among them, celebrate your heart's spirit and be rejected.

why oh why oh why i cry. it's not meant to be, it should not be, it wasn't supposed to be.

i don't belong. to be free is to be set a part. father against daughter, mother against son. not a curse or a blessing, just a choice that repeats and repeats and repeats. it's insanity, yet acceptance, it's blindness yet celebration, it's the family way and it's unlike anything i can understand.

all that i've learned, all that i've been taught, all that i long for is unconditional. all that was offered was by condition alone. i walked away. i found a better way. and it haunts only at times of confusion, of disillusion, of curiosity and of temptation. it's hold has slipped....in twenty one years it grows weaker, but my souls still cries for understanding. it can never be.

those who know you the most hurt you the deepest

so knowing brings so much to the forefront about a person; what they like, what they are good at, how they live, the kinds of decision they make, the habits they form, and on and on and on. Knowledge leads to endless understanding, observation serves to provide further insight, but what of all that intelligence gathering if the intent is to hurt, to punish, to destroy rather than to love, to build up, to celebrate?

we get hurt by those who know us the most, understand us the deepest, and the cruelty of that act is devastating. We long to be known fully and when we finally are, wounding happens. The wounding is incubated in a petrie dish of despair and control and pain and fear and it invades every cell, every tissue, until a pain so vivid shuts down our hearts or causes us to build walls so high no one will ever hurt us again.

I contend that God alone can meet us at the place of deep wounding, and God alone can lead us out. And God alone will neither leave us nor abandon us, His promise is sure and His character is true.

While we can identify with the hurt inflicted by another, can we equally identify the unquenchable healing that God provides?

can't love what you don't know

it's all about the knowing, having knowledge about a person, understanding their perspective, collecting facts about their habits, comprehending their quirks, preferences, likes and dislikes; all of this leads to an ability to love. And not just casually, a love that is random and fleeting, but to love fully. You can't love what you don't know.

I learned a week later that my nephew what born. Perfect and seamless, the process sped by and a new family member was born. And I didn't know a thing about it. I couldn't respond with salutation, I couldn't praise with delight, because I didn't know. And in a way it's sad.

Communication is so closely linked to knowledge. How do you gain knowledge? Through communication; from teacher to student, from author to reader, from lecturer to learner, from conversation to comprehension. Families that don't communicate are sad, they are empty, and they are loveless.

How much do we miss out of life when we don't love fully, live completely, make connections with others? And how much more do we miss out of a relationship with our creator when we don't get to know Him, worship Him, read His words, and connect with His people.

Do you want someone to love you madly, completely, unconditionally? It begins with communication.......what will your first words be?

embrace the road and fly....

"Did you know? You get another chance? It doesn't always have to be this way. You can let it go, lay it down. It's not quitting, you know-to alter course, to see things in snapshots instead of one, continuous uninterrupted stream. It doesn't all have to go together. And for goodness-sake, it won't all match. it's not an outfit for an afternoon tea, it's bigger, greater.....it's living life and you'll never figure it out. blind trust. ruthless obedience. tenacious faith. that's all there is. so live. throw caution to the wind, step through the door, embrace the road, and fly."

healing

rushing to the pet hospital, I try to restrain taunt muscles of fur, whimpering that can not be reasoned with, pain that cannot be explained. Minutes rush by and I try to hold the dog back, manage the wound, and drive to the hospital.

weaving through traffic, diligent to the task at hand, I seek out help. It will be costly, this process of healing. It will take time. It will take sacrifice. Healing is expensive. It is intensive. It requires diligence to the task, commitment to the process.

and so it begins upon arrival; the dog is admitted for care and five hundred dollars later, having been put to sleep and repaired, stitches angrily mark the evidence of a wound, the tear of fur and the exposure of muscle.

i feel the adrenaline surge and then wain in my body; I am exhausted and the release is heavy. No vomiting, no tears, no sorrow; just a stillness, a shock, and a horror of what I've seen. I replay the scene again and again, the blood dripping, the tissue visible to my eye. I imagine how it feels, every nerve in my body reacting to the anticipated pain. Empathy can cripple at times, and I am overwhelmed.

The healing process will take weeks and my dog will wear the "cone of shame" to prevent his licking the wound. Daily, he'll receive antibiotics. We'll watch diligently for signs of infection. It will take care. And love. Healing requires love, demands that I remain attentive, fully engaged.

Do I think that the person who has wounded me in the past can honestly attend to my healing? Do any of us? When we are wounded deeply, with intent to harm, by that same hand can we find healing?

We are taught to forgive those who hurt us, forgive as we have been forgiven, love as we are loved. But how can we forgive the unforgivable? the unimaginable? the horrific? and the intended?

love teaches us how, the One before us shows us the way, the path has already been walked, and through His power, we can find freedom in forgiveness. But it takes time, it takes commitment to healing, diligence to the process.

am i better Father, from the wounding? am i healed Abba? will it ever end?

To which my Father replies, "Trust in my care, Follow me and my paths of righteousness. Walk beside my still waters and I will give you rest. I will never leave you or forsake you."

Commit to His process. It will take a life time of everyday choices, purposeful decisions, moments of surrender, but healing will begin. Don't let the second of past wounding outweigh a lifetime of healing.

wounding

I hear it first. The cry of pain. I was instantly drawn to the sound and witness the bright, red blood backdropped against the brilliant white fur. My dog was injured. Instantly, I called to him and he came; cowering at my feet, hiding between me legs, whimpering and shaking as he tried to sit down.

The bright red dripped slowly from an injury to his leg and I knew it was time to see the vet.

It happened in less than a second. Quick, decisive, the wounding was certain, the cut real and stitches needed.

What occurred could not be undone. What happened could not be erased. A moment of speed and quest to hunt down the random squirrel taunting in the backyard leading to an encounter with pain.

My dog was bleeding and I needed help for healing to begin.

That's how wounding happens. Whether it's random or delivered on purpose, a single second can change the course of time, it can alter reality, it can impact a lifetime of next choices. One single moment can destroy, can break, can shatter, can alter a life story in profound and powerful ways.

What is your wound? How did it happen?

birthday day

fourteen. Fourteen. FOURTEEN. fourteen years of brown-eyed-curiosity.

fourteen years of focus on trains and bulldozers, lawnmowers and tractors. fourteen years of watching the weather turn from hail to snow to ice to rain and back again to hail.

fourteen years of pushing and pulling and growing and changing and challenging and laughing and crying. my eldest son is fourteen today.

i remember how he didn't want to be born. tucked in the eternal womb of warmth, he'd rather have stayed, snugly comforted by a environment that was constant and controlled.

i remember how he was eventually taken via c-section and how he didn't want to eat right away and didn't want to be undressed and changed.

from the word "go" this fourteen year old of ours thrived in routine and predictability. and we eventually caught on.

oh, how i pray this fourteenth year will bring deep and true and long lasting blessings of hope and joy and peace and strength.

may the year ahead be filled with calm strength that carries through every storm, wisdom that rides every wave of conflict, and love that fulfills every dream dreamt.

perspective

my perspective on a subway train bombing. horrible. unthinkable. how could someone do a heinous act? how could they take innocent lives? how could they knowingly strap a bomb to their bodies and in one act decide who lives and who dies? who do they think they are? why is their vision of life and death and eternal glory superior to another?

my perspective. the suicide bomber's perspective. who is right? who is wrong? who determines? if i have a choice and the suicide bomber has a choice, then we act of our own free will.

Why would I blame God for the suicide bomber's choice? What did He have to do with their act? Could He have prevented it? Would He have? My perspective says, "yes, this time, He should have stopped it, intervened, prevented loss of life. Or maybe, no, those people deserved to die because they don't live in a christian society." When I play God, I step into a dangerous role. I am limited. I don't have the entire picture. I don't have an eternally perfect perspective.

When I wrestle with horrible acts committed in the world I live, I recognize that I don't have the full perspective God has. And the only thing that gets me through is faith that I don't see it all clearly right now and I won't know why, but I can trust in the only true God who does. And that's a comfort, a strength, a power I can rest in.

passion defined by a nascar fan

Large, square-framed glasses encompass bright, blue eyes as they dance in animation with the passion the nascar fan expresses as he explains what nascar is. He introduced himself as "Stan" and patiently answered all of my ignorant questions regarding a sport I know nothing about. Stan shares the 9 hour journey that lead he and his wife from California through death valley to the Las Vegas 400. "Turn four", Stan proudly informs me, "is the best place to sit. You see it all!" Stan is covered in nascar gear, from his hat to his sought-after M & M designed yellow jacket. "There are three racing series...in my opinion, the truck series is the most fun...man, they really race. Nationwide series is next, then comes the Sprint Cup series. If the ran delays the nationwide series on Saturday then they'll race in Monday. We will stay through, probably until Wednesday. It's really great to watch'em race." "Now, Michael Waltrip is something else. Decent guy. I once watched him spend extra time with 4 kids from one family-see-that's the future of nascar-and he hung out with them. Incredible......"

Passion-I saw it through what he was wearing. I experienced it as he talked with me. I recognized the legacy it leads by bringing up younger generations in it. Stan was a non-stop-full-throttled-testimony to passion.

So, application time. What am I passionate about? Do people, strangers even, know what I am passionate about while in conversation with me? Do I spend time bringing the next generation up to speed with my passion? The greatest enemy in my life is melba-toast-bland living.

while waiting for the city bus

Faces solemn, expressions resigned, the bus riders wait for the next bus in various places on the side walk. Ear buds attached, backpacks fastened in place, books open, but ears always attuned, they know when the next bus will come. It's like some inner clock that I didn't inherit, they stand and watch silently. And then, as if on cue by some unseen conductor, they rise and begin to walk toward the oncoming bus, standing in the precise stop the bus will stop. Boarding comes like breathing in air, a stance of calm confidence juxtaposed against my slight-panic-caution-pose. I am not in control. I don't set the pace. I can't problem-solve alternate routes if traffic is heavy or if I am inpatient. The riders taught me to release control of things I cannot pseudo-control anyway. How much of my energy is spent on controlling things I am not in control of?

Princess.....

I cannot take care of you if you take care of yourself.

I cannot give you all I have for you if you find it yourself.

I cannot provide for you if you provide for yourself.

I cannot go before you if you are leading the way by yourself.

I cannot show you my way if you go by yourself.

I cannot be if you are being.

I cannot shine if you are in the spotlight.

I cannot if you insist on doing it.

I will not.

a birthday wish

i remember the flute-playing-ultra-smart-barefoot-running-night-owl the most.

i looked up to her skill, her strength, her savvy. she went distances i could only imagine; never having the courage to go there myself. far away places, with foreign food and language-germany and egypt and china, the world was her oyster.

i analyzed her friendships, evaluating how she interacted with her girlfriends.

i observed the books she read-big, thick ones that she'd tenaciously pour over hour after hour.

and her stories; vivid and deep, soul searching characters on adventurous quests. and her art and her brilliant mind.

she went before me. her firsts before my firsts. and then the firsts stopped.

and we seemed to trade roles. only the mutual admiration society ended. and the distance grew wider and taller and deeper until it seems as though its impenetrable. but that doesn't stop my birthday wishes...wishes big enough to dream about, big enough to hope in, wishes of a bond that's strong and true. we have things in common,with heredity you can't escape it. i wish her much love, deep joy, and warm peace tonight. and although we no longer speak the same language, i hope one day for unity.

signs that spring is coming!

• I see real dirt alongside of the house. Real dirt!
• The sun shines much brighter and warmer.
• The days are getting longer, it isn't getting dark at 4:00 in the afternoon anymore.
• Marathon training is beginning.
• Every now and then, my family runs outside and to the car without a coat on.
• I hear birds tweeting. Real birds. Tweeting. Not people tweeting.
• The snow is melting sooner.
• I am getting mail for summer camp. summer vacation spots. summer events.
• flip flops are back in the stores.

mixed nuts

yum.....peanuts, almonds, cashews, brazil nuts, hazelnuts, and pecans....all nestled together in a salty bath of tart goodness, earthly, woodsy, gems of delight in 11.5 oz can thanks to planters. It was the trio that caught my eye....I would hand pick my next delight, nudging the Brazil nuts aside(the biggest by far in the can and would take an extra commitment of chewing to swallow), crossing over the hazelnuts(just-plain-old-yuck) until I'd spy a peanut or a cashew. But by far, the trio of oval-shaped-thinly-striped-sepia-and-honey-colored almonds...that was heaven. The van shifts, my husband carefully avoiding the fresh pot hole compliments of a harsh Minnesota winter, and my treasure trove disappears under the pile, only to be fished out by my eager fingers and adept eyes. yum!

prayer radar

radar: a noun

radar: uses for detection and providing a range

radar: a system or device used to transmit and receive

radar: early warning system just be world war 2

radar: provides valuable information in fields such as medicine and meteorology

prayer radar: process of transmitting messages to God and receiving direction, insight, and wisdom in return. A early detection system used to give believers warning, prophecy, insight, and understanding in current and upcoming events.

How is your prayer radar? Is it a finely-tuned, laser-sharp, focused resource in your tool box of faith? Or is it an ancient-dust-filled-relic on your religious shelf? God's systems are fully operational, are yours?

body armor

In the battle against the enemy, soldiers take up body armor.

Over the years this armor has changed from medieval suits of armor to bullet proof vests, but the fundamental principal has remained unchanged; protect your body. A wounded soldier cannot fight, cannot save, cannot help others.

In battle, the quest, the focus, the desire is to win. To uphold a mission greater than the individual soldier.

As believers, we are in a daily battle for our mind, our spirits, our lives and our mission is greater than ourselves. This mission is to protect, to advance, to boldly worship the God of eternity. Our body armor is a belt of truth as we identify the lies, the deceit around us. Whispered lies in the cover of darkness, in the path of temptation. Loudly yelled lies that seek to woo and seduce. We put on the body armor of God's righteous, a covering that screens us from personal, unholy choices. Our feet are outfitted with the swiftness, the peace, that comes with the gospel. Good news that saves, that builds up, that offers hope, that carries us on the right path. We take up the shield of faith, so that in every battle, our faith points us in the right direction. Our faith-that which we have experienced, unseen, yet powerfully lived out. Salvation protects our mind, like a helmet, reminding us that by Christ's blood we a fully covered. And finally, we weld the sword of the spirit, the very Word of God. And with this Word, we pray without end, continually and fervently, focused of God alone.

The battle lines were drawn long before we lived and will continue after we die. This battle engages us daily, whether we feel inclined to fight it. But God, in His wisdom, mercy, and love offers body armor to suit up, to draw upon, to train in so that we might fight and stand firm.

Take up the armor. Be ready. And pray.

the power of a personal story

in this thing called faith, nothing is as irrefutable as the power of a personal story.....when I see God's hand at work, when I see His love poured out in conversations and actions, in events and in miracles, my faith explodes. When the inexplicable happens and words fall short in describing the way a prayer is answered, my faith grows.

Psalm 34: 2, "I will boast only in the LORD."

If I am to be proud, let me be filled with pride for what God can do.

If I am to be blessed, let it be because of God's unending love for me.

If I am to weep, let me cry out into the arms of God's healing community.

If I am to morn, let it be with a confidant hope that all will be mended, all will be healed.

If I am to sing and to worship, let it be to EL OLAM, the Everlasting God.

My story speaks for me, God is near.

a birthday blessing

bright, blue eyes sparkle as a front-toothless grin announces, "Two days until my birthday!"

and with it a turning from one year to the next. Seven times we will pass this way. Seven times of change and growth, of pain and endurance, of learning and of living. And in this year, I lift up a birthday blessing,

May the days be filled with a reflection of the deep love that holds you close,

and the nights surround you with warmth and rest,

May the friendships you develop be strong and true.

May the connections you make point to your redeemer,

the skills that you develop sharpen your task,

May success follow you and peace envelope you,

and worship of God guide you.

May you always have more than enough,

May you find contentment,

and may you bring light to the darkness.