I'd Jerk a Knot . . .

"I'd jerk a knot in his tail." Mama would say that when one of our friends was willfully misbehaving. She'd also say it a quite a bit while watching her soaps. She meant there would be an immediate reckoning and things would be a-changin'.
This line came to my mind as I looked at our pool this morning. Folks with pools are familiar with the word "shock", both as a noun and a verb. Shock is a little bag of chemicals that shocks the bacteria in the pool back to normal.
Shock is my friend.
Last week we let things get out of hand and woke up to green stuff in the pool. Algae. Yep, I shocked it and immediately things began getting better. You may say I jerked a knot in that pool. (Okay, you may not.)
Over the summer I let things get out of hand and doubt started creeping around my edges, much like that algae started in the darker corners. I fought it some, but really, it wasn't so bad. However, pretty soon there wasn't much clearness left at all. Even in situations that called for pure Joy, things were a tad murky.
So I gave God permission to jerk a knot in my tail. You see, he doesn't just barge in and tell me what to do. He waits for me to want it. Do you remember all the times when Jesus asked the sick or lame what they wanted him to do?
Putting ourselves in the Presence of God sounds all nice and sweet, but a lot of times he's holding a bag of shock.

Did You See that Moon Last Night?

Did you see that moon last night? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a full moon so intense, so bright. It was brighter than the street lights on the next street. As it rose in the dark, cloudless sky, our yard was silently washed with moonlight.
Except, moonlight is really just reflected sunlight, right?
That is so hard to believe when everything is covered in the blue-white glow. Sunshine pulsating across the universe so strongly that the moon, a dusty, dull planet shines bright enough to illuminate the earth.
What amazes me is this: If the moon is only reflecting the sunlight that hits it, then the night sky is filled with sunlight. However, without something to reflect it, it just pours into outer space. So all that darkness is full of sunshine - brilliant, powerful sunshine. Light never seen because there's nothing for it to reflect on.
Can that be how God is? He's everywhere and yet we don't always see him because there's nothing around us for him to reflect upon?
Or, like heavy clouds can hide the moon, do we put barriers between God and our world? And do our barriers, reducing his reflection dim the light for not only ourselves, but those around us?
Just wondering.

What? I Can't Hear You -

Back in Illinois, I somehow got the gig of doing the children's sermon each week in the church service. You know, when the kids come up and the pastor does a little talk. Well, I did that for several years. I'd open myself up to God each week and through out the week my message would come and by Sunday morning I'd have it polished and ready to go. Sometimes the message took longer to get, requiring more concentration and prayer, more listening.
However, one week nothing came. Nothing. As we walked to church I threatened God with what he'd done. "You've given me nothing so I guess you're going to just let me get up there and sit down and tell those kids you didn't give me anything to say. You're just going to let that happen, aren't you?" God apparently didn't have a problem with that and shockingly he didn't get scared and send down a quickie message. I still had nothing as I entered the sanctuary.
Pastor Zimmerman rushed up to me. "Kay, we have some special things today so we need to cancel the children's sermon. Sorry I didn't call you earlier."
Wow, what a leap in my faith journey. The knowledge that God will supply what he wants me to say or write or do. Even in my darkest times of confusion I know the confusion comes from me - not him. He's probably speaking very loudly through the people around me, the books lying on my desk, the shows I watch on TV or his silence is the message. Whichever it is - the message is there if I'll wait - and listen.

Endurance - and this is not a Viagra ad

Came across this phrase yesterday and it stuck with me. "Endurance Inspired by Hope."
Endurance - yep, that's me. I've been enduring in this writing thing so long, I can remember sending off actual sheets of paper to a publishing company. Everything now is electronically submitted and sooooo much easier. No buying "bright white paper". No printing up a couple hundred pages and then wrapping it in nice brown paper and then making a trip to the UPS store.
Endurance - I've written six full novels, a couple dozen query letters, synopsis', chapter summaries, characterizations and one pages.
Endurance is something I study and think about --- and need. So, that phrase caught my attention - "Endurance Inspired by Hope." Hope in my abilities? Hope in my agent's abilities? Hope in catching the eye of some editor out there? Hope in the book market? Yeah, I've put hope in all of those. A good call from my agent inspires me to hope more. Or reading something in one of my books and liking it inspires hope. A turn in the market that favors my style of writing builds my hope.
But then . . . no call from my agent deflates my hope. Or reading an awful, amateurish passage in my writing crushes my hope. The market - well, the market is stupid.
So the first part of that phrase is pretty, "Endurance Inspired by Hope." But it's the part I left out that contains the meat. "Endurance Inspired by Hope in the Lord Jesus Christ."
So this morning I've got to do the work of wrestling my hope back from the places I've put it where it just ends up driving me crazy. Because I will continually be let down by myself, other people and the world. Continually. Always.
Where is your hope placed?

Scrooge and Denial (not the river)

"You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!"

Can you imagine how Dickens chuckled when he wrote that line? You don't have to be a writer to know the feeling of having plucked the exactly perfect thing from the universe. I can just see Dickens reading the line over and over to himself. Maybe then reciting it to his wife or one of his children. I know I love repeating the line, "More of gravy than of grave about you," and I didn't write it.
Old Ebenezer Scrooge explains his seeing the ghost of his partner, Jacob Marley, as a bit of indigestion. Scrooge is so set in this world and so lacking in imagination that something wrong in his stomach is the only possible explanation. "More of gravy than of grave about you." I love that (say it out loud and see if it doesn't come out with an English accent and in a lower octave than you regularly speak.)
We are in the season of Wonder, but most times we're not nearly as creative in explaining away the unexplainable as Mr. Dickens. "I'm just so tired." "We've done that so many times." "It's too much trouble." "Do you know how awful the traffic will be?" "I hate crowds." "I'm just so tired." "It's too cold." "No spare change, today."
As an author, Mr. Dickens, had a place to take his readers and so he couldn't allow Scrooge to persuade the ghosts to leave him alone. But I've often wondered why Jacob Marley didn't get visited and told to change his ways before he died?
But maybe he did.
Maybe we all do. Maybe we're all given chances to reach across our indigestion, tiredness, boredom, cynicism and hold Wonder in our hands. But we dismiss it and struggle on.
We struggle on, wondering all the time why God doesn't answer our prayers.

"Cue the Deer"

Ever seen "Funny Farm" with Chevy Chase? Great movie, LOL movie. A couple moves to their dream home in a small New England town. Surprise, surprise - it's not all they thought it would be. Desperate to sell, they enlist the townspeople to help when potential buyers arrive. It's Christmas time and so costumed carolers show up at the door, the horrible mail delivery man brings the mail to the door with a loaf of fresh baked bread, and even the wildlife gets involved.
With the words, "Cue the deer" a spry fawn is released from a hidden pen and bounds across the winter landscape right in front of the enthralled buyers.
This morning I'm wondering who is lining up things for me. I sat down with coffee looking out the front window and almost immediately a large V of Canadian Geese flew directly overhead. Against a bright blue sky, they were so close I could see all their markings. Then two bluebirds popped up in my willow tree. They hopped between the lower tree branches and the ground while I finished my coffee.
Yesterday, overlooking Brasstown Valley in Northernmost Georgia from our room, I watched a rainbow fill the sky. It stayed bright and clear for at least fifteen minutes. Mike even took several pictures of it.
Once in a spiritual gifts survey at church I tested to have the gift of "Miracles". Don't get too excited - apparently it doesn't mean I can perform miracles. It means I have the deameanor and faith to see miracles. C.S. Lewis' book "Miracles" is a fabulous, but hard, read for anyone interested in miracles. He points out that miracles are all around us, it's just a matter of knowing what we're looking for.
Like the folks in Funny Farm, I believe God is "cueing" the deer, the birds, the rain, the sun to delight, amaze and comfort us. To say - "Aren't you glad you're here and you're you?"
But most of all to me, miracles are God saying, "Aren't you glad I'm me?"

When SHOULD Christmas Start?

Christmas has a great PR agent.
My friends on facebook cover the whole range. One has three of her families five Christmas trees up. Some are itching to start the season, but being held back by others who are pleading for them to wait. The local Christian Radio station was giving away concert tickets in October, but to win you had to send in a picture of you standing beside your nativity scene already on your lawn. I thought that was clever. In the mall, Christmas music was playing a week ago. We're waiting until after Thanksgiving to put our tree up, but just barely.
Some "bah humbug" the whole commercialization of Christmas. I don't. I honestly think God could teach marketing at a university.
As a culture we race to celebrate the birth of God's son. The arrival of the Savior. We long for it. We can't wait. We push the starting date earlier and earlier. And this dishonors God how? Some say many people don't celebrate the "real" reason for the holiday. I don't believe God thinks like that. He knows we're flawed, selfish people. He knows what lurks in our deepest parts - you honestly think he's surprised when we turn Christmas into something all about us? Naw, I think he knows why we long for Christmas, expand it, and wallow in it.
God is an infamous rule breaker - when we are the ones making the rules. I think God and the angels probably scour the earth to see the first sign of Christmas each year and then they have a party.
For as long as we desire Christmas, we desire to touch God - whether we know it or not.

Something old, Something New

My cousin's daughter is getting married next week. Mom of the Bride has mentioned several times lately how excited she is about the new family forming. That was a concept I'd never really thought about. Needless to say, (but I'm going to say it anyway - you know me) with the two recent engagements and a wedding in a month and a half, I've been thinking about the whole thing bunches.
Neither of the boys have lived here in years. They became adult men and fashioned their own worlds and homes. So the separation isn't anything new. However, this separation to form a whole new family is different. It's a creation of something new and alive. Something that has form and meaning and legal standing, a future and a past.
When my friend from Indiana was here, we talked about marriage a lot. She and her husband have a marriage ministry (www.genesis2-24.net) and she talked about one person arguing when she said God invented marriage. Eventually he had to agree with her. Interesting, isn't it?
I find myself looking around at the families that started out this very same way - kids taking vows, getting jobs, moving around the country, having children, buying homes. Adding on to that new creation, that family, day by day. Now, like my cousin's wife, I find myself mesmerized as I watch Robert and Carrie, and Ryan and Casey. A brand new creation being formed right in front of my eyes.
That God - he's pretty smart.

Kick-start for a Monday

God loves my children more than I do. My friend visiting from Indiana this week reminded me of this and it got me to thinking.
First, God loves our children more than we do because he's capable of perfect love. No matter how much we try, our love is always tainted by icky human stuff: selfishness, pride, ambition, vanity, and on and on. One of our pastors pointed out that he believes one reason there won't be marriages in heaven (as Jesus said in Matthew 22:30) is we'll be able to love perfectly and so won't love one person more than another. Interesting, isn't it?
So here's where I got to thinking - What other important things in my life is God more involved with than I've imagined? What else does he love and care about more than I do?
Does God love my marriage more than I do? Obviously, because I've not treated my marriage at all times as I should. So God loves my marriage and cares for it on a more consistent and deeper level than me. Cool. Little intimidating.
My home, My job, My friends - the things and people God has put in my life, things which he loves perfectly and I treat - well - not so good all the time.
My writing? Authors say their books are their babies and I know that feeling. So, wait a minute, God isn't ignoring my book or indifferent about it - he loves it more than I do? He wants the best for my writing? Wait, and he even actually knows what is best.
God loves my life more than I do AND he wants the best for it AND he knows what the best actually looks like. Well, now that makes for a good Monday!

Pizza is as Pizza does

Such a delicious day! There are already sunbeams coming through the trees. The sky is a nice, hopeful peachy-blue and my coffee is fabulous. Falcons won last night, Tennessee didn't play so Saturday was relaxing, and I got to drive Lizzy back to Carrollton Friday and spend time talking with my daughter. My book for Tuesday's book club finally came in the mail on Friday and it is so good I almost finished it. (The Unwanted by Kien Nguyen) We got to share a meal with good friends and heard an unbelievably great sermon by a lay person on Sunday. Then last night we did something very familiar, but completely new - we helped serve youth dinner at our new church.
Since Robert hit sixth grade we've prepared many, many meals for the church youth group. And the pizza I've ordered - wow! I even had the nearest Pizza Hut and Domino's on my speed dial. One friend who left youth ministry to become a senior minister said he planned to never eat cheap pizza again.
Last night we didn't know the kids, but some of the adults were familiar as the volunteers were all from our Sunday School class. Still, it had that deja vu' feeling and isn't that cool? To think of all the kids and adults doing the same thing on Sunday nights across the country. To walk in and feel at home, because it's not about the building or the people. It's about belonging to a calling. Belonging to a calling of shepherding young people toward God. So cool.
Oh, and guess what the kitchen had cooked for us to serve - - - Pizza!

Wanted: One Magic Wand

Yesterday's blog ended with me equating God to the parent who sits next to their child when they don't make the team, don't get the part, or receive the college rejection letter. As a parent, we hate that pain, but know we wouldn't have stopped our child from dreaming, even if those dreams never happen.
But, since God can make our dreams come true, maybe he should only let us have dreams that he plans on fulfilling?
However, when I think of the dreams I've watched go unfulfilled, I have to believe God has a purpose in the dreaming.
A friend in Louisiana started a ministry, Sarah's Laughter, for those struggling with infertility and child loss. A vibrant, alive ministry built on broken dreams. http://www.Sarahs-Laughter.com And adopted children fulfill dreams in ways rarely anticipated.
We walked with a friend through the dissolution of her marriage for reasons she had no control over. That dream shattered into a million pieces around her, but her three children are blessings not even imagined when the original dream blossomed.
Alfred Lord Tennyson said, "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." -
When I look around I see evidence that God's position is "'Tis better to have dreamed and lost than never to have dreamed at all."

What kind of pumpkin do you pick?

Lizzy made me gift for Mother's day this year, which sits on my desk. It's a 12 x 16 painting, lots of bright colored stars and flowers make up the background. Then she painted some of the words to the Taylor Swift song, Best Day, in black.
"I run and run past the pumpkin patch, oh look the sky is gold. I hug your legs, fall asleep on the way home. You're not scared of anything at all. You were on my side even when I was wrong. I know I had the Best Day with you."
And yes, we did go to pumpkin patches when the kids were little. And I always knew which kind of pumpkin each kid was drawn to. Big, Small, Tall, Stemmed, Round . . .
This weekend, with the kids and fiances here, we talked a lot about them as children. Carrie said at one point, how cool it is to see the same traits in them as adults, that Mike and I talk about them having as children. We are born with certain traits, abilities and preferences, aren't we? And throughout our life we reject who we are, enhance who we are, embrace who we are and attempt to change who we are. Then just when I get it set in my mind, something shifts and I'm someone else. I barely got used to being an empty nester and now I'm going to be a mother-in law!
There are lots of reasons to believe in God or to need to believe in God. However, I think it's the idea of being known that strikes deepest in me. To be known without all the world's labels.
To just be known - and loved in spite of it!

Peyton Manning and God

Is peace attainable, or is it granted? Or is there a certain state which must be attained before peace is possible? Peace in the midst of chaos? Peace in the middle of anxiety? One passage in the Bible says God's peace "transcends understanding."
There's that sign, "If you are able to keep your head while all others are loosing theirs . . . you must not understand the situation." Is that the secret to peace - Ignorance? So does it follow that being anxious means you're more knowledgeable? I believe we often attribute weighty thinking to weighty countenances. And happy, content folks are labeled "naive" or "polly-annish."
Peace for me comes from knowing God is crazy about me and he has a plan. Peace for me comes from the knowledge that God is big enough to take my griping and whining. (like yesterday's blog). Peace for me means doing today, what I'm supposed to do today. When I try to control and manipulate yesterday and tomorrow - I'm way out of my league. It would be like me stepping into the Indianapolis Colts huddle and telling Peyton Manning what he should've done last play and what he needs to do next. Got the picture?
Hopefully, Peyton would be as nice to me as God is when he lets me have my say, smiles, points me back to my place and says, "Thanks, I think I've got it."

Invitation

On windy days I walked home from Cherokee Elementary the back way. Across the blacktop, into the little valley, past the swings and seesaw, and up the hill. Climbing the gentle slope, I reached the crest and the open land between back yards and the tree line. The grass there was only cut a few times during the summer so it was long and plush. Open, high land let the wind push back and forth with abandon. The grass undulated like a green ocean and the tree line danced as if putting on a show for God. A show which enthralled and lifted my soul. The wind rushed by me and around me and through me.

Grown up and living in Illinois,I'd go on early morning, solitary walks. I began noticing just one branch often moving when no wind was present. Not always the same branch, or even the same tree. I decided it was God saying, "hello" and I started watching for it. Still do.

Is it the idea of things moving without a visible reason that makes me associate the wind with God? The power. The quiet. The roar. The whisper. I'm not sure, but I know a breezy day speaks to me and reminds me to look up - to watch clouds rushing, trees bending, birds soaring. I can't resist stepping into the wind and opening my heart and senses.
And I don't believe God passes up that invitation.

Never let 'em see you Sweat

Walking past the deck doors yesterday, I noticed my zinnias were hanging low. Curled leaves, turned dusty green, drooped beside orange flowers with sagging petals. This wet summer has made me even less vigilant on watering. Most of the flowers I plant in pots don't show that daily wilt of weaklings like impatiens or fuchsia. Much too fussy and demanding for me. Geraniums like to go dry and then get a ton of water - I can do that. Lantana love the desert-like conditions of my deck and my sporadic watering habits. Same for moss roses. Only problem is that by time they do tell me they're dry - they're most likely dead. So the wilted zinnias caused everyone to get a drink and an instant lift.
A friend called last night and she was having a horrible day. She said it only started getting better when she acknowledged it and shared it. I have an e-mail prayer group for my writing because I need to have a few folks I trust to let me vent, cry, express my fear, doubt and panic. Many times just typing the words starts the healing. Then to know others are reading about my pain and praying for me. It's like a cool drink of water on a hot day.
Writing yesterday's blog about the darkness of the tunnel was hard - to lay it out on the line and say, I'm struggling. But being strong all the time is a fallacy. A lie. Portraying never flagging strength is a sure sign of inner weakness. To never stop and rest is to deny being human. To want to be God.
And I'm pretty sure that's what got Adam and Eve in trouble.
God knows we have limits and gave us each other to lean on. I need to be more like my zinnia and let others see my struggle. Not like my lantana - only admitting failure when I'm dead.

It's Dark in the Tunnel

I've often said it's hard enough when the kids go away to school, that I can't imagine how hard it would be if they weren't happy once they got there.
Now I can imagine it.
Lizzy is having a tough time and she just can't seem to catch a break. The one break she did get, turned out to be not so good.
Mike was in Oregon last week and their high-rail truck (a pickup truck with attachments to allow it to ride on railroad tracks) died in the middle of a tunnel and then derailed. Luckily, the line is abandoned, so no oncoming trains. But he says it was dark - very dark. They had to walk a long way and then ended up pushing the truck out of the tunnel.
When you're in a tunnel you only have one choice - keep walking until you're out of it.
Lizzy keeps walking. But the lights she sees in the distance, keep turning out to not be real light. It's just another branch of the tunnel. And she keeps walking. She knows she'll get out one day and this will just be an unhappy time in her past. But it's so dark.
And I'm so far away. I guess that's good because everything in me says, get a flashlight and go get her. But this is her faith journey, not mine.
You know that footprints poem? Well, if I go rushing in to carry her she'll never understand what it is to be carried by God.
All I know is I can't imagine her being so far away without her faith.
And I can't imagine me being here without mine.

Golden Air

The air turned gold yesterday.
One day, late August or early September, the air changes and is threaded with gold. Sometimes the gold goes away and summer's blue-white light comes back. But today, the gold returned. The gold means Autumn is pushing Summer off center stage. This year it's been a rather dramatic entrance. Summer didn't put up a fight at all, well, not yet.
I'm loving the change, but it did happen a little too suddenly. The pool is not going to get warm again. Bummer. We thought we'd have this weekend to finish up pool season or maybe even next week. But when our water gets cold, it's cold. And I don't do cold water.
So, no end of summer celebration. No last time in the pool. The last time passed unnoticed.
A toddler's mom recently asked if she should rock her son back to sleep when he unexpectedly woke up crying in the night. I said, "Absolutely, because you never know the last time they cry for you in the night." One day you realize no one has woken you up in a while and the night time vigils are over. The rocking chair gets moved to the living room and those wakeful nights that would never end - end.
Such a balancing act - the Past and the Future. Regrets and Hopes all trying to share space in my little brain and heart. And yet if I don't find room to house all of it, the Present is poorer.
God, give me the ability to mark this time you've given me. To not waste it with either regrets or hopes. To walk the particular balance beam that is my life. To bring it all to This Day.
After all, you've made the very air gold.

Speedbumps Wanted

Our pastor yesterday preached about temptation and not being led into it - ala last lines of The Lord's Prayer. He told a story of another pastor's dog getting sick after they accidentally left the pantry open and the dog got into a bag of chocolate. Pastor Long equated the goodies behind the pantry door to the things that tempt us. He said, "God will shut the pantry door, but he won't put a lock on it."
He pointed out we can, and should, pray for roadblocks between us and the pantry door. I've often used the same thought with the youth, but I called them "speedbumps." Our oldest, who honestly worked to not get in trouble, found himself involved in three infractions in a short timespan his freshman year of high school. I pointed out to him that he needed to see those problems as speedbumps. Speedbumps say, "Slow down. Pay Attention. Look where you're going."
I'm back to full-time writing again today. Kids are all packed off to school and vacation is over. However, before I get into working on my next book I am praying for speedbumps. Speedbumps to warn me when I'm getting off the path God wants me on. Speedbumps for when I'm tempted to not put my behind in the chair and write. Speedbumps for those temptations of writing something else because it might actually sell or it's something I can do fast.
And then my second prayer is, "God let me notice the speedbumps." Guess that means I'll have to turn down the radio, not go so fast and Pay Attention.
Here we go!

The Rubberband

Father Andrew Greeley has published over 50 novels, mostly about relationships. In one book his protagonist, a priest, is counseling a man. The man is confused because he and his soon to be ex-wife spent the night together. The priest tells the man he believes God created sexual attraction, not just to pull a man and woman together in the beginning, but to help them stay together. He explained it was like a rubber band encircling the two that snaps them together at first. Through years of marriage when things get tough the couple pull away from each other - stretching the elastic of the rubberband. But at some point the rubberband snaps them back together - whether they want to or not.
Years ago, a friend asked my advice about the distance in her marriage. I advised putting the kids to bed, watching Animal House and sharing a six-pack.
I know our early marriage was made better because we went to church. Not because of the sermons or the classes, but because for one hour every week we had to sit next to each other and not talk. Also, I'm sure willingly putting ourselves in God's presence didn't hurt.
Love, Laugh and Worship - not a bad prescription for a marriage.
Not sure why marriage is on my mind, except Mike's been gone all week and comes home tonight. I can't wait.

I want to make God LOL

Winners of the Overachievers Award of Summer 2009 - Orange Zinnia and Pale Yellow Moss Rose.
The moss rose is in a planter sitting on the deck railing. It mounds higher than the geraniums it shares the pot with and then hangs down past the railing. The zinnia is in a big planter in the corner and it's hard to see the red and white geraniums behind it.
I didn't plant either the moss rose or the zinnia. In the gardening world they are called, "volunteers". Both plants come from seeds left by last year's flowers. When I readied the planters with new dirt this spring, these volunteers were no where in sight. I carefully placed the already good-sized plants I'd bought where I wanted them. Then at some point the unplanned flowers showed up. I recognized the leaves so I didn't pull them up - a little spontenity is good. However, now they boutifully show up the plants that were supposed to be there.
Wonder why?
To live inside other's expectations and plans may lead to a perfectly acceptable and happy life. My geraniums and ivy I planted are color coordinated, the correct height, in the right about of sunshine and meet all my expectations. Is that what I want from life? To match my surroundings? Fit the mold? Meet other's expectations?
Is it pure joy de vivre - joy of living - that gives my unplanned plants their boost? I want that. I want to surprise the world.
I want to make God laugh out loud.