Waiting,,,,,

I have never been a fan of waiting.  I can do it...and have become quite good at it, but it is not may favorite activity.  I have always felt that waiting wastes time, but I have been reminded (yet again) that this is not necessarily so.  There are times in our lives when waiting is a necessary evil.  The anticipation of a slow cooked roast can be torture as the scent of roasted beef wafts through the house.  Shortening the time, however, provides a less than satisfactory results.  A well brewed cup of coffee is infinitely superior to instant; and the long wait for home-made bread to rise is well worth the effort.

I am reminded today that some things just take time...God's time.  Forcing a bud open before it blooms only destroys the rose; the beauty is lost.  So we wait. 

Today's waiting is in the hospital.  Here in the ICU next to my sister's bed the waiting has been a different experience.  What are we waiting for?  We are not certain...we are waiting for God.  Not that He hasn't arrived...He has been here all along.  We are not waiting on His grace and mercy, for they are boundless; nor are we waiting on His loving arms to reach around us, for they have been holding us up for ever so long.

We are waiting for God to reveal His miracle.  We have already been told it is coming, we just don't know the form in which it will come.  Tonight we trust His perfect will and bask in His grace; His love; His endless, powerful presence. 

I have witnessed His miracles before.  Sometimes they amaze and delight us; other times they arrive in forms we didn't anticipate, or even want.  But they are miracles regardless.  

So we wait...in the center of a peace that passes all understanding.

Still Listening....

I am quite certain I am not alone in the fact that for me talking to God is much easier than listening to God.  I intend to listen and I  try to listen, but often it is hard to distinguish the thoughts inside my head with the voice of God.  When I read scripture, connections and applications come to mind, but I always wonder, "is this my mind roving around, or is it God's voice speaking to me?"  It is an ongoing problem for me.

It is probably no surprise to anyone who knows me that my mind is going in multiple directions at once.  If, as Mark Gungor implies, a woman's brain is a "woman's brain is a big ball of wire...with everything connected to everything," then we have identified the problem.  I am thinking, sorting, conversing and planning in my head all the time.  So, in that chaotic mess, how do I hear God's voice when He is talking to me?

What I would prefer to do at this point in my writing is quote some sage purveyor of wisdom or quote scripture to answer the question posed, but not this time.  I am convinced that the answer is as diverse at the souls who petition God daily.  There is no magic formula for answers to prayer...and sometimes, the answer never seems apparent, though it may have been given.  And sometimes, the answer is "no"...a concept hard for us to understand.

I have quite the laundry list of prayer requests right now.  Some are being answered daily in visible and tangible ways.  Some, for lack of a better explanation, are in progress, though unseen by human perception.  Still others, I am certain, have been answered and I just don't realize it yet....so I keep asking.  And as I ask, I keep listening...keep sorting...keeping waiting for the neon sign to flash in front of me (God doesn't deal in the flashy as a general rule, but it doesn't hurt to ask). 

I Will Lift Up Mine Eyes Unto the Hills...

There is a place, when traveling south on the Burt T Combs Mountain Parkway that is perhaps one of my favorite spots to drive in the world.  Coming over a short rise and curving around the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, somewhere around mile marker 10, they are visible in the distance: ridges and ridges, overlapping on another…the mountains of Eastern Kentucky that were our home for 13 years.  When they became officially home is unclear to me now; my childhood home is in Michigan, and the family I love is still there.  We live there now, and are happy in our beautiful home.  So much of my life and my loves are in the north, but the sight of those mountain ridges rising to the sky brings a sigh of relief; a satisfaction; a sense of arrival that no other place in the world provides. 

  

In many ways, though I was in my 30’s when we moved there, I believe I “grew up” in the mountains.  It was within the shadow of the mountains that I learned to be more than just a spectator in life; I learned the importance of ministry.  I learned the meaning of sacrifice and the joy of simplicity.  I learned that personal success has nothing to do with financial gain or prestige.  Most importantly, I learned that God’s gift to use reaches beyond salvation to sanctification; I learned to be set apart for God’s purpose though his cleansing power. 

I chose my vocation in the mountains, or rather, it chose me.  I learned that God does not call the qualified; He qualifies the called!  He sees the strengths and talents hidden inside and draws them out in the most unexpected ways.  I learned that “little is much when God is in it” and that by “standing on the promises of God” that “I can do all things”.  His promises are true.

Tonight, as I write this, I am once again sheltered in the shadow of the mountains.  As we drove down for our visit yesterday, I waited for mile marker 10 and gazed once again in awe and contentment at the mountains rising before us.  They never change…though the seasons dress them in different attire. Whenever I see them, I always think of Psalm 121:

¹ I will lift up my eyes to the hills—
         From whence comes my help?
 ² My help comes from the LORD,
         Who made heaven and earth.
        
 ³ He will not allow your foot to be moved;
         He who keeps you will not slumber.
 ⁴ Behold, He who keeps Israel
         Shall neither slumber nor sleep.
        
 ⁵ The LORD is your keeper;
         The LORD is your shade at your right hand.
 ⁶ The sun shall not strike you by day,
         Nor the moon by night.
        
 ⁷ The LORD shall preserve you from all evil;
         He shall preserve your soul.
 ⁸ The LORD shall preserve your going out and your coming in
         From this time forth, and even forevermore

God dwells everywhere…there is no denying that…but it seems, here in the mountains, we are just a tiny bit closer to heaven.  Maybe I am biased.  Or maybe I am just where God wants me to be.  If it His will, maybe we will return here some day and pick up where left off.  Until then, whenever I can, I will lift up my eyes to the hills and remember the One who is always my shelter.    

Never Underestimate the Power of a Clean Closet!

I am not a neat freak!  In fact, I have been known to be quite cluttered at times (you can take this as a physical or a mental state of being).  I remember how, early in our marriage when we used to argue, my husband and I had a "disagreement" over the condition of the house. I was determined to teach him a lesson, and while he was at work, I picked up only the clutter I had left behind, leaving his to "prove" to him it wasn't my fault.  Needless to say, by the time I was finished, the house was nice and tidy!

In my defense, my clutter is usually the result of overextending myself.  I have time to mess it up...just no time to pick it up.  Throughout the years, with both my mother and my husband reminding me "if you would put it away as soon as you are finished with it...." I have learned my lesson, and the house clutter issue has pretty much resolved itself.  Closets, however, are another battle!

I think that stuff multiplies in the darkness of the closet (that is, if you can get the closet door closed).  We are not hoarders by any sense of the term...having moved countless times in our ~29 year marriage is a great solution to accumulation of "stuff".  Once you have packed and sorted your possessions 20 times or more, it really culls out the clutter.  Closets, however, still are an issue.  I have clothes that I tried on and didn't want to wear, shoes, handbags, tapes (yes, I still have cassette tapes I never play), CD's....you get the picture.  It seems that the addition of baby clothes, toys and the remnants of our daughter's possessions finally put the issue over the top.  You see, when my closets are cluttered, I feel as though I am leading a secret life.  My house may be tidy on the surface, but there is hidden clutter that no-one sees.

In my time off these past months, between naps, I have been tackling the closet issue.  Little by little the clutter has been removed; thrown away or put in the hands of someone who would use it (I was told once that having things and never using them is the worst form of materialism).    The remaining items are basically organized, categorized, and available if needed.

I couldn't help but make the connection of my hidden clutter in the closets and the hidden clutter we store in our personal lives.  When we have hidden clutter in our emotional and spiritual lives, how does it impact our overall sense of ourselves?  It has been my experience that we are far less successful at hiding our emotional clutter than we would like to believe.  I guess it is harder to keep the closet door closed on our emotional clutter; it seems to seep out the cracks too often.

God's solution for sin is immediate.  That was done at the cross and is a free gift for us all.  His solution for cleansing of the sin nature is immediate as well; His sanctifying power can provide us with His Spirit to give us the tools to live a life free from sin.  The scars of our former lives, however, often remain.  Gradually, as God opens each closet door, you have the opportunity to sort through the clutter with Him, deciding what to keep, what to throw away, and what to allow Him to renew in His image for the furtherance of His kingdom (you see, some scars can become beautiful testimonies of His power and glory, if you allow Him to use them).

So, if you come to my house, you are welcome to look in my closets...look under the beds, too!  Nothing is hiding there.  And if you choose to look within the hidden closets of my soul, you will see God and me sorting...making progress...and organizing the clutter there for use in the kingdom.  

The Gramma Magic!

I am pretty certain that being a grandmother is the best job I have ever had.  Currently, with a cup of coffee on the night stand, and Ishapuppy at the foot of the bed, I am sitting in my jammies listening to the soft breathing of our six-month old granddaughter sleeping next to me. (Hey..she was fussy...her parents were asleep...she needed me!)

I don't remember when I first became aware of the Gramma Magic.  I am not even sure when I acquired it. I am pretty sure it was a gradual process for me; starting long before the title was ever bestowed upon me of "Gramma".

I know my mother has it; I watched her last night reading to our beautiful baby (no one reads a storybook quite like my mom).  Actually I discovered that the "Great Gramma Magic" is something extra special (maybe it is like the black belt of the Magic levels). The way Emma lights up with her is awesome to see...and the joy is mutual.

I know my grandmothers both had it, though it was bestowed upon them differently.  My maternal grandmother's magic lay in her warm farmhouse, her hands of love that crafted keepsakes for the ones she loved and baked the world's best molasses cookies.  My paternal grandmother's magic was bound in the patience of teaching crochet stitches, jars of M&M's and endless games of Yahtzee.

The Gramma Magic sooths a crying baby faster than anything. distracts a temper tantrum with ease, and kisses an owie for instant pain relief.  It can make cheese and crackers or M & M's seem like a feast; a tea party with apple juice seem like high tea with the queen of England.  The Gramma Magic is, I am beginning to think, kind of like being a genie.

I wonder if God bestowed this power on grandmothers to reward us for the trials of parenthood; or perhaps he wanted to show us just how, no matter how much we love our children, we still have a limitless amount to share; over and above; running over.  Rather like His love for us!

Someday, perhaps very soon, I will share about the Grandpa Magic.  It, too is something special.  But for now, I will refill my coffee cup, plan my day, and wait for Emma to awake....let the Magic begin!