The Way It Was Meant To Be

I haven't blogged in awhile, not because I'm too busy but because the things I've been thinking about (which is always what I blog about) would frankly just offend you. And I don't get any pleasure from offending anyone. So I've been keeping my thoughts to myself as best I can, save for my morning coffee visits with my BFF, Stan, a.k.a. "spouse".

But the last few days I've been thinking about something that I think you could take without having your feelings hurt, so I'm going to go ahead and open up the twisted brain to the world for a moment. I'll be careful.

If you ever want to do something for somebody who will appreciate it (and have the thoughtfulness to TELL you they're appreciating it), do something for my friend Natalie. One of the things I love most about her is that she opens her heart to you and tells you what she's thinking and feeling. Its not always positive, mind you: If your zipper is open, she'll tell you. If you do something stupid, she'll tell you. If you mis-pronounce a word, she might humiliate you. BUT, if you do something for her or give her something that she loves, she will lavish you with all manner of affection - verbal and otherwise - and I love that. I have many people in my life who are either (a) not appreciative or (b) they are, but they don't show it. So I've tried to love people without expecting anything back, but it feels so good when somebody does at least say thank you.

Okay - I digressed there. Sorry. SO, Natalie and Michael went to the Master's yesterday courtesy of Stan's Dad - Bud Bedingfield - who has the coveted tickets and is oh-so-generous to share them with his sons and their friends. (I should tell him I appreciate that when he comes for Easter tomorrow...)

Sorry again. It's early and I haven't had my medication yet. So Natalie calls me last night on the way home from the tournament to regale me with a beautiful account of her day in Augusta, and her well-told story lifted my thoughts beyond just the Master's and onto Home. Here are some of her experiences and I'll show you what I mean:

• The View: Obviously one of the most memorable things about going to the Masters in Augusta is the course. Whether or not you are into golf, the nature there is just magnificent. The grass is greener than anything you've ever seen, and so perfectly groomed you'd like to have it in your living room. I always want to lay down on it, but they won't let you.

Now imagine what the views in Heaven might look like: I was just reading a book this week and I never realized that "heaven" won't be a separate place from here - it will be here, but restored here. "Here" as it was meant to be - not how it is now.

1 Corinthians 3 talks about how our life's work will be tested in the fire, like gold. Only the dross is burned away. This is the fire Peter talks refers to when he says "But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything in it will be laid bare" (2 Peter 3:10, NIV). The meaning of the word used here is much closer translated as revealed. In other words, the world will be exposed to judgment, and the earth will be cleansed of all unrighteousness.

The writer of the book of Revelation sees the New Jerusalem not floating in the clouds but descending from heaven to the earth and he hears a "loud voice from the Throne saying 'Now the dwelling of God is with men, and He will live with them. They will be His people, and God Himself will be with them and be their God." (Rev.21:2-3)

I love the last scene in Titanic when they pan to a shot of the ship at the bottom of the ocean; there is mold or barnicles or whatever that gray stuff is all stuck to everything in the ship. As they pan the ship, one side of the screen becomes the "scrubber" and restores everything to its original beauty. The brass gets polished, the staircase loses its gray and becomes mahogany again, the chandelier is no longer dark but comes to light. And the old wrinkled lady in the housecoat becomes the beautiful maiden she always was - dressed in a beautiful white wedding gown. She ascends the stairs and steps into the arms of her waiting groom - the dapper Leonardo DiCaprio (her beloved "Jack") who is no longer blue and shivering from cold but wonderously restored himself and waiting for her.

Can you imagine our earth as it was meant to be - not as it is? I can - and I can't wait!

• The Glory of a Great Golf Swing: Natalie was worried before she went that the ticket would be "wasted" on her. She worried out loud that because she's not a golfer (yet) she might not be able to appreciate what she was seeing. She wanted Michael to take one of his golfing buddies instead. We were glad he persisted. He knew what we knew: it doesn't matter whether you play golf or not - you can't be in the presence of someone who is great at what they do and not experience the glory yourself.

We know from Genesis that God created us "in His image". I have wondered many times about what that means exactly. I assume that it means I look something like Him. But what does He look like? And what about me looks like Him? My eyes? My nose? I hope not. As my faith has matured, I've come to realize that "in His image" means more than a physical resemblance or even a "godly character". In the book "Journey of Desire", John Eldredge says this:

"More often than not, we think of godliness in moral terms. When we think of a "godly person" we assume that he is devout, or perhaps self-sacrificing and certainly more virtuous than most. But when Genesis declares that we are God's image, it is describing not certain qualities of our character, but capacities of our nature."

When we get to watch someone in their glory - a great golfer, a master violinist, a dancer, a basketball player, a singer who can just effortlessly belt out those incredible notes - we are catching of glimpse of their Maker. He made that. He gave them that talent. They have honed that skill and certainly continually work at it, but He's the one who placed that desire and talent in them. Whether they attribute their talent to its Origin or not does not change the fact that they bear the image of their Creator when they do that thing.

Our friend Bill calls it "shimmering". And we're all blessed when we're in the presence of someone who is shimmering.

• The Crowd: Everyone who goes to the Master's for the first time always comments about the spectators. This is the quietest, most well-behaved crowd you're ever going to encounter. Natalie said that when she watched golf on TV she had always assumed there was a "mute" button when the golfer hit the ball. She was shocked to find that it really is that quiet. In her words "How can 500 people standing at one hole be so quiet! Nobody was even telling anybody else to shush!"

Have you ever thought about how different our daily experiences have to be because of the wickedness of people? Think about it - you always lock your car and house doors because you can't walk off and leave those things unattended without fear that someone will steal something. You never take your eyes off of your baby (even when they're 17!) in the mall because someone might hurt them. The very existence of "lockers" - at school, at work, at Disneyworld - they're only there because we don't trust each other.

Even the things we buy cost a lot more because we can't trust one another. You may not realize this, but you pay about 25% more for every single item you buy in a store because of the cost of packaging. Why does the shredded cheese you buy have a "locked and sealed" zip top? Because somebody might put something in there or take something out before you buy it if its not locked. Why are cd's so blankety-blank hard to get into?? Because someone might take out the original cd before you get it. You get it.

What if that weren't the case? What if your life were not marred by the sin of yourself or others? Does that sound boring to you?? Not to me. It sounds gloriously free; free from worrying about my loved ones. Freedom to walk around in a park and enjoy the flowers and trees and feel safe. What if we were free to love others the way we really want to? I always wish I could love perfectly and am very discouraged when I don't.

Some of my favorite scriptures are the ones that promise us that one day all of the sorrow that we experience here will be gone:
"For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd; he will lead them to springs of living water. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes."
Revelation 7:16-17

"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."
Revelation 21:3-5

I take great comfort in the fact that both of my parents are experiencing that right now. They are doing the work they were created to do, without being weighed down by diseased hearts or frail bodies. They are shimmering and all of their tears have been wiped away.

Truth be told, I'm a little jealous.

"What Happens in Vegas..."

Las Vegas is not my favorite city. I'm not sure what my favorite city is, but I know that it is in fact NOT (1) Detroit or (2) Las Vegas.

But I spent 10 days there last week for work and saw some interesting sights during that time. I shall now share one.

The first night I was there, I was waiting on a co-worker to get checked-in to the hotel. I was sitting alone in the hotel bar for about 45 minutes and it gave me time to notice (and eavesdrop on) the folks sitting at the table next to me.

One of my favorite games to play is to make up stories about strangers...I think its fun to study them for a moment and then just spin a yarn about them based on whatever clues I can see from the outside. My neice Katie and I "met" a nice boy in California named "Brandon". He's a Christian, and he smokes. (He was in the car next to us-- we didn't really meet him and we don't really know what his name is, nor where he is on his spiritual journey. The smoking part is for sure). Playing this game, Natalie and I once developed a crush on the deli boy at the Home Depot cafeteria. He had lots of cool tatoos and had just gotten out of jail; he just needed someone to give him a chance while he was turning his life around.

You get the idea.

So at the table next to me in the Mirage Hotel lobby bar, there are 4 guys and 1 lady. I discern (no kidding) that the lady is a prostitute. She's not tacky or anything like that (no smacking gum or oversized earrings), but I can just tell that she is being compensated for her friendship.

The gents, by the way, are very "normal" looking young men. All married, according to their left hands. And they are so enjoying this girl's attention. Now, mind you - there's nothing gross going on at the table... that's what caught my eye. They are just telling stories and she is laughing to beat the band. Okay, she is sitting in one guy's lap... but it wasn't gross.

My first thought was to be judgemental (prostitutes, married men, there's a lot of fodder there for looking down my nose). But I asked Jesus to show me what He saw. The next thought that came into my mind was "wow - those guys are really enjoying her attention". The attention of a pretty girl; she's really listening, she's attentive, she's pretty, she's dressed cute, I bet she smells good even.

And I thought "every husband deserves that". The attention, the effort to look pretty even when you're just going to be with your husband. Many times I put in way more effort to how I look when I know we're going to see someone else. If its just the two of us, maybe not so much.

But there's another side too. Every wife wants to be that girl; we want to feel special and pretty. If we did, I bet we would laugh at more stories and put on lipstick just because. But somebody's got to start and I think usually we wait for the other one.

There was a lot of appreciation going back and forth at that table. I asked Jesus to help me see Stan like other people see him. I bet there's some girl out there who would be all too happy to "appreciate" him. Paid or no.

Christmas Cheer

This year marks my 22nd time to be a Christmas Mommy (i.e. its up to me and my trusty side-kick to "make Christmas happen" for someone else).  There's no magic here, folks, as anyone out there who is trying to make Christmas happen can tell you.  Its a lot of blood sweat and tears and a working credit card doesn't hurt.

Like everyone else, I find myself every year trying to figure out why this is so difficult.  And how I can somehow meet all of the expectations (real or imagined) placed on me while at the same time providing a meaningful experience for those I love.  And by the way have some fun while I'm at it.

I think part of the issue is that our culture has changed, but the holiday tradition has not really morphed with it.  One hundred years ago (or even 50) people in this country led quieter lives we would consider boring.  So when Christmas rolled around each year it was a great time to pull out the stops:  buy some things for your family that you wouldn't ordinarily buy, eat some things that you wouldn't ordinarily eat and drink some things you might not drink on a day-to-day basis.

But now, we buy what we want whenever we want it and feel like we can afford it.  My family will be getting a new TV sometime next year (hopefully one that doesn't weigh 85 pounds and take up a full 6 square feet of space like our current model).  We won't be able to afford that before Christmas, but one day when we feel like we can spare the change we'll toodle over to Sam's Club (or go on Craig's List which is our new favorite website), and we'll buy one.  It will be on an "ordinary" day... maybe even a Tuesday.  We won't wait for a "special" day like someone's birthday or an anniversary or even a Saturday.  

Ditto for eating and drinking.  When I was little, having steak was a BIG DEAL and we only had it when we were lucky enough to go to Western Sizzler after church.  No one cooked steak at home; we ate vegetables and fried chicken at home and steak when we went out.  Now we cook steak at home because it tastes better on our grills than in a restaurant (Sizzler = Yuck and whatever even happened to Bonanza?) and we go to Cracker Barrel if we want home-cooked vegetables and fried chicken.  My grandma found it bizarre that people would go to a restaurant and pay them to make biscuits and gravy...

When I was small, the lights of Christmas were magical.  Now, we have so many gizmo's that have bells and whistles that we see and hear everyday,  there's nothing really special about a little white light, even if it does go off and on randomly (a.k.a. "twinkling").  We're so over-stimulated now, that one more verse of "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" makes us want to chew on tin foil and shave our heads with a cheese grater.

And ALL OF THIS just makes the real Christmas Story that much more beautiful.  That Christ left His home next to the Father, a home that was quiet, warm, probably very clean, and came to rescue us... FROM OURSELVES.  From our over-indulged, over-stimulated, grab-what-you-can-while-you-can culture that absolutely wears us out.

"Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden (HEY THAT'S ME!) and I will give you rest*."

Matthew 11:28

*the REAL kind

That's something to get excited about and have your heart warmed over.  

I'm Just Here for a Good Time

I am not having a good time.  And I've been a little bit - okay, a lot - puzzled by that.  Doesn't God want me to be happy?  Isn't that what life is all about?  Isn't that the aim - to be happy, to have "good things" in your life?  Not if those "good" things are less than the "best" that God has for us, which is a life lived close to Him.

I'm learning that, in the life of a Christian, pain is never random.  It has a job to do; it doesn't always accomplish its appointed task because God doesn't force closeness with Him on us, but it always has the possibility of accomplishing its task.  I hate to waste anything - especially pain.

Here is the job its been doing in me: it has whet my appetite for more of Him.  Here's the really interesting part:  the closeness and the intimacy with Him have not lessened my pain.  It's still there in all its glory.  And I still care about the things that are wrong right now; they still need to be addressed.  I need a job.  We are moving in 2 days.  My company still has not paid me.  I don't have as many friends as I thought I did.  I've got some forgiving to do and I'm not sure exactly how to do it.

But addressing those things are not as important to me as the amazing grace I have experienced in the last two weeks sitting at His feet.  I want Him more than I want those things to be fixed. 

New spot for me.  I like it.  A lot.

He Comes For Me

What an amazing few days its been in my heart.  I've walked with God for many years, but have never experienced the depth of love and acceptance from Him that I have in the past few days. To be honest, I've always had a hard time understanding exactly what GRACE even means, much less leaning on it in a tangible way.  

In my experience, you screw up - you get whacked, you straighten up and try to do better so you don't get whacked again.  Isn't that about the best it gets?  No.  Let me say it another way... NO. That is not the best it gets.  

I found myself on Tuesday night quite at the end of myself - a good place to be, I'm told, but not a place I want to visit often.  I had never felt more alone and was staring down the barrel of some circumstances that I just don't like.  Some pain that I just don't want to bear anymore. Some forgiveness that I need to extend, and even more that I need to receive. In other words, I was feeling completely desolate and abandoned.  I went to bed and called out to Him with one of those "If-You-don't-come-for-me-I-won't-make-it" prayers.  

Here is what He gave me:  Psalm 18.

"The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge.  He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold."  HE is my rock.  Not my friends, not even the ones who really are friends. HE is my shield, my stronghold.  Sure, I could have used a hug this week, but no one else can do for me what He did.

"The cords of of death entangled me; the torrents of destruction overwhelmed me."  That's where I was Tuesday night.  Next comes the part that knocked me off my feet.

"The earth trembled and quaked and the foundations of the mountains shook; they trembled because He was angry."  Oh no, I've done it now.  Now not only am I in trouble, but God is mad at me too.  The passage goes on to describe just how pissed off He is... its scary really.  

Wait - what's this??:  "He reached down from on high and took hold of me; He drew me out of deep waters.  He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes who were too strong for me."  He wasn't angry with me!  He was angry that I was getting pummeled.  He was the big brother coming around the corner and seeing his little sister getting pushed in the mud.  He was the mama at the park who sees her toddler getting shoved off the slide by the 5th grader. (Poor 5th grader).  

He came.  For me.  For only me.  There wasn't a "group" of us in trouble, so He felt like the trip was worth the expense.  It was just me - alone and afraid.  And it was still worth it to Him.

"He brought me out into a spacious place; He rescued me because He delighted in me."

I spent Wednesday in His embrace, being spoken to tenderly by Him and having my wounds cared for and loved on by Him.  I've never been loved so completely.  And everything I felt like I wasn't getting was given to me; multiplied many times over.

The chapter gets even cooler because not only does He rescue, He doesn't leave us in our weakened condition, only to be pummeled again.  Verse 30 begins the story of how He then trains us for battle.  He teaches us to fight back.

The Psalmist ends the chapter by expressing his joy over experiencing God's beauty and presence.  Its a joy that trumps difficult circumstances.  Big time.

Why Would It Get Easier?

Man I love Melissa Hubbard.  Dr. Melissa Hubbard, that is.  What a woman of decisiveness and objectivity she is!  Wish I could be more like her than I am...

She said something to me yesterday (during my post-wedding head check-up) that I have been pondering ever since.  I didn't TELL her that I had expected life to get easier as I got older, but I think she read my mind (or my mail, as she so often does).  In defense of myself, don't we all look at our old grannies and grampies and think "Wow, what a life they have.  They're not busy, they don't really know everything that's going on, they don't use credit cards so they're not in debt, etc..."  ?? Am I the only one who smiles at older people and looks forward to a simpler lifestyle?

My precious 81-year-old Aunt May went to town to buy a new "deep freeze" this week.  When she tried to use her Sear's card they wouldn't take it because she hadn't used it in over 15 years. They asked her why she hadn't used it in so long and she said "Well, I haven't needed anything!" She went to write them a check (she's totally loaded) and realized that her driver's license had been expired for over 2 years.  Don't get worked up, she drives on country roads and probably only passes two cars/ week going less than 45 MPH.  

But my assumption that things would get easier, really had more to do with my walk with the Lord, not with my outward circumstances.  My logic was something like this:  The longer you walk with Him, the more familiar He would become and thus the easier it would be to (a) understand Him and (b) Understand His ways.

But instead, I find the Mystery of Him so much more vast than I ever imagined.  Melissa said "Why would it get easier to go from playing T-Ball to Little League to College ball to the Major Leagues?  Why would we expect the 'opposition' to lessen rather than increase as we progress nearer and nearer to the heart of God?"  

It wouldn't.

My Joy Came Back

I was getting worried.  It had been gone awhile.   I wrote to it and asked it to come home, but it stayed away awhile.

But it came back today.  Not sure exactly why.  Maybe it was my sweet sister calling and inviting me to ride to Costco with her.

Maybe it was the beautiful flowers that my husband brought.

Maybe it is the inspiration that is my precious daughter doing her very best to stay connected with someone who is treating her unkindly, but she's trying anyway.

Or maybe it was the beautiful music that comes out of the hands of my baby son, Sam.  Some days I feel like King Saul, ready to "spear" someone; then beautiful music begins to flow out of this boy and my spirit is restored.  (Ask him to play "The Busboys of Sapporo" for you sometime - it's a Sammy original and it will bring tears of joy to your eyes.)

He's also teaching me to play the guitar; its impossible not to be joyful when you're playing praise music.  Even when it doesn't sound that good, its still praising which is what we were put here to do in the first place.

"The joy of the Lord is our strength".  Bring it on.