Water, You turned into wine
Opened the eyes of the blind
There's no one like You
None like You
Into the darkness, You shine
Out of the ashes we rise
There's no one like You
None like You
Our God is greater
Our God is stronger
God, You are higher than any other
Our God is healer
Awesome in power
Our God, our God
Into the darkness, You shine
Out of the ashes, we rise
There's no one like You
None like You
Our God is greater
Our God is stronger
God, You are higher than any other
Our God is healer
Awesome in power
Our God, our God
Our God is greater
Our God is stronger
God, You are higher than any other
Our God is healer
Awesome in power
Our God, our God
And if our God is for us
Then who could ever stop us
And if our God is with us
Then what could stand against
And if our God is for us
Then who could ever stop us
And if our God is with us
Then what could stand against
Then what could stand against
Our God is greater
Our God is stronger
God, You are higher than any other
Our God is healer
Awesome in power
Our God, our God
Our God is greater
Our God is stronger
God, You are higher than any other
Our God is healer
Awesome in power
Our God, our God
And if our God is for us
Then who could ever stop us
And if our God is with us
Then what could stand against
And if our God is for us
Then who could ever stop us
And if our God is with us
Then what could stand against
What could stand against
What could stand against
"Our God," by Chris Tomlin, Matt Redman, Jesse Reeves, Jonas Myrin
Sunday, April 29, 2012
The Eighteenth Sabbath
Monday, April 23, 2012
Random Thoughts from the Sabbath
I wanted to write something about my day yesterday, but there are several "somethings" in my mind. At this point they don't seem too connected, so we'll call it random for now and see where we end up.
Thought #1
Dr. Branson Parler, Kuyper College professor and member at Fourth Reformed, preached about freedom yesterday. It was an ironic message topic since Beau and I were "free" from our kids for the weekend and were enjoying that the noisy kids in the service weren't ours for a change. As Branson preached on Galatians 5:13-6:2, he talked about how the world so often views freedom as just that--freedom from something. The reality is that God wants to free us for something. He frees us for Himself and He frees us for others.
Yes, God does free us from sin, but it is so that we are free for living the lives that God created us to live. To reclaim some part of that peace and joy and communion with Him and others. One of the things Branson pointed out is that when you chop off your finger (because we all do that, right?), you haven't actually freed it from anything. You have only condemned it to death. The only way a finger can actually be a finger and do finger things is when it is attached to the body. The same is true for us. The only way that we can be ourselves, who we have been created to be and living out the gifts God has uniquely given to us, is when we are connected to the body.
Thought #2
Branson also quoted one of the most beautiful and gut-punching verses in the Bible. It deserves its own thought, because it's just that good. Galatians 5:6 "The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love."
Thought #3
I have been teaching 7th-12th grade Christian Ed at church this year. We're covering the Heidelberg Catechism, with varying degrees of success (as defined by the leaders' manual, I suppose), enjoyment (mine and that of my 7th-12th graders), and commitment (again, mine and theirs--I won't lie about that). It's such lovely and weighty subject matter, and unfortunately I don't think our curriculum really speaks to my students or leaves them with much to hold onto.
As I reviewed this week's lesson, I just didn't feel good about what was in my manual. It just felt cheesy and boring. So I decided that since my "full" group would be there (we range from 2-10 on any given week) and we had six Q&As to get through, we would break into pairs and rewrite them. I challenged the students to read the verses that went with the answers and then rewrite the answers in a more personal way. We did Q&A 46 together. Then I gave each pair Q&A 47-50. I took Q&A 51 on my own, because we had only eight students. I knew that what they could come up with could be huge, and I hoped they knew that too. I was asking them to read scripture, think critically about how it applied to this question and to their lives, and then share it with everyone else.
They amazed me.
They shouldn't have, because I knew they could do it. But they did. And I'm so proud of what they shared. I wish I'd recorded it.
Thought #4
As I said, I took Q&A 51. We're nearly finished with the Apostles Creed portion of the Catechism, and these six Q&As are all about the ascended Christ sitting at the right hand of God. The questions range from how is that possible to what it might mean for us. I didn't mean to be so convicted by the one I "randomly" received from God. As restated by me:
Q. How does this glory of Christ our head benefit us?
A. Christ has now been restored to full communion with God and the Holy Spirit, pouring the Holy Spirit's gifts out on us. I, personally, have the gifts--and the personality--I have directly from the Spirit in order that I might use them to build up the body.
Also, by sitting at the right hand of God, Christ has the full army of God ready and willing to do all that He commands. Because He is with the father who created me and loves me, He will let nothing destroy me.
I've been thinking a lot lately about how God has gifted me and the personality that He has given me. I have a passion to strengthen others--to build up the weak with encouragement and to challenge the strong with truth. Could it possibly be that God has given that passion and the gifts to live out that passion?
Thought #5
This thought came today, while I was writing out my "random" thoughts. I chuckle almost every time I use the word "random," because I don't believe for one second that God is a God of random happenstance. I believe that God is a God of providential circumstance. And because I've seen it often enough to know it's true, I sort of knew He would tie my random thoughts together as I wrote--at least as they apply to me.
Thought #1
Dr. Branson Parler, Kuyper College professor and member at Fourth Reformed, preached about freedom yesterday. It was an ironic message topic since Beau and I were "free" from our kids for the weekend and were enjoying that the noisy kids in the service weren't ours for a change. As Branson preached on Galatians 5:13-6:2, he talked about how the world so often views freedom as just that--freedom from something. The reality is that God wants to free us for something. He frees us for Himself and He frees us for others.
Yes, God does free us from sin, but it is so that we are free for living the lives that God created us to live. To reclaim some part of that peace and joy and communion with Him and others. One of the things Branson pointed out is that when you chop off your finger (because we all do that, right?), you haven't actually freed it from anything. You have only condemned it to death. The only way a finger can actually be a finger and do finger things is when it is attached to the body. The same is true for us. The only way that we can be ourselves, who we have been created to be and living out the gifts God has uniquely given to us, is when we are connected to the body.
Thought #2
Branson also quoted one of the most beautiful and gut-punching verses in the Bible. It deserves its own thought, because it's just that good. Galatians 5:6 "The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love."
Thought #3
I have been teaching 7th-12th grade Christian Ed at church this year. We're covering the Heidelberg Catechism, with varying degrees of success (as defined by the leaders' manual, I suppose), enjoyment (mine and that of my 7th-12th graders), and commitment (again, mine and theirs--I won't lie about that). It's such lovely and weighty subject matter, and unfortunately I don't think our curriculum really speaks to my students or leaves them with much to hold onto.
As I reviewed this week's lesson, I just didn't feel good about what was in my manual. It just felt cheesy and boring. So I decided that since my "full" group would be there (we range from 2-10 on any given week) and we had six Q&As to get through, we would break into pairs and rewrite them. I challenged the students to read the verses that went with the answers and then rewrite the answers in a more personal way. We did Q&A 46 together. Then I gave each pair Q&A 47-50. I took Q&A 51 on my own, because we had only eight students. I knew that what they could come up with could be huge, and I hoped they knew that too. I was asking them to read scripture, think critically about how it applied to this question and to their lives, and then share it with everyone else.
They amazed me.
They shouldn't have, because I knew they could do it. But they did. And I'm so proud of what they shared. I wish I'd recorded it.
Thought #4
As I said, I took Q&A 51. We're nearly finished with the Apostles Creed portion of the Catechism, and these six Q&As are all about the ascended Christ sitting at the right hand of God. The questions range from how is that possible to what it might mean for us. I didn't mean to be so convicted by the one I "randomly" received from God. As restated by me:
Q. How does this glory of Christ our head benefit us?
A. Christ has now been restored to full communion with God and the Holy Spirit, pouring the Holy Spirit's gifts out on us. I, personally, have the gifts--and the personality--I have directly from the Spirit in order that I might use them to build up the body.
Also, by sitting at the right hand of God, Christ has the full army of God ready and willing to do all that He commands. Because He is with the father who created me and loves me, He will let nothing destroy me.
I've been thinking a lot lately about how God has gifted me and the personality that He has given me. I have a passion to strengthen others--to build up the weak with encouragement and to challenge the strong with truth. Could it possibly be that God has given that passion and the gifts to live out that passion?
Thought #5
This thought came today, while I was writing out my "random" thoughts. I chuckle almost every time I use the word "random," because I don't believe for one second that God is a God of random happenstance. I believe that God is a God of providential circumstance. And because I've seen it often enough to know it's true, I sort of knew He would tie my random thoughts together as I wrote--at least as they apply to me.
- The only way that we can be ourselves, who we have been created to be and living out the gifts God has uniquely given to us, is when we are connected to the body.
- "The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love."
- I knew that what they could come up with could be huge, and I hoped they knew that too. I was asking them to read scripture, think critically about how it applied to this question and to their lives, and then share it with everyone else.
- I, personally, have the gifts--and the personality--I have directly from the Spirit in order that I might use them to build up the body.
My connection to the Body of Christ is essential, both in His figurative body and in the literal body of believers. I will be worthless without that Body, because I have been uniquely gifted as Rebekah Marie (Bierenga) McDowell to do Beka things. If I cut myself off, then I cut myself off to death. And even more than that, if I cut myself off or refuse to do the Beka things that God created me to do, then I deprive the Body of what it needs to live out God's call for it.
This ended up longer than I thought it would be, so thanks for hanging with me on my rabbit trail. I'm starting to wonder if any of it tied together for anyone but me. Oh, well. We always reach a conclusion; it just doesn't always resemble anything close to where we started or where we thought we'd end. And it generally leads us to the beginning of another journey that we never expected but always sort of hoped was waiting for us. That's where I'm standing today. And, as my DearWriterFriend (DearPublisherFriend?) likes to say, "We are living the epilogue." Thanks for sitting in on this page of mine.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
The Seventeenth Sabbath
In Christ alone my hope is found,
He is my light, my strength, my song;
this Cornerstone, this solid Ground,
firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace,
when fears are stilled, when strivings cease!
My Comforter, my All in All,
here in the love of Christ I stand.
In Christ alone! who took on flesh
Fulness of God in helpless babe!
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones he came to save:
Till on that cross as Jesus died,
The wrath of God was satisfied -
For every sin on Him was laid;
Here in the death of Christ I live.
There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain:
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave he rose again!
And as He stands in victory
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me,
For I am His and He is mine -
Bought with the precious blood of Christ.
No guilt in life, no fear in death,
This is the power of Christ in me;
From life's first cry to final breath.
Jesus commands my destiny.
No power of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home,
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand.
"In Christ Alone," Stuart Townend and Keith Getty
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Overheard at the Ballpark
Today my husband and I went with some dear friends of ours, Matt and Jillian, to a Detroit Tigers game. Our journey there began in early March when Matt and I were chatting via Facebook message about Beyond Belief: Finding the Strength to Come Back, Josh Hamilton's autobiography. Matt, Jillian, and I had recently read the book, and Matt and I were discussing how fun it would be to watch Josh and the Texas Rangers play when they made it to Detroit. It happened to be this weekend, and today worked perfectly for all of us.
Last night, my husband and I sent our kids off to Grandma and Grandpa's house, enjoyed dinner out at Licari's Sicilian Pizza Kitchen, slept in a bit this morning, and then climbed into Jillian's Honda Pilot for the trip to the Big D. It was cloudy. It was windy. It was disappointing, because a rainout Friday night pushed the pitching off by a game, and we didn't get to see Justin Verlander pitch. It was COLD. And the first inning was terrible. Rick Porcello let 8 runs cross the plate, and only one of them was a home run (go, Josh!). The Rangers made it all the way through their batting order 1 1/2 times. In the 1st inning. The Tigers wouldn't get that far until the 5th. Things settled in, but it was still cold and ugly. And we were in the bleachers, and there were rowdy people all around us, and there were a lot of funny things to overhear.
So, here it is. As overheard in the car and at a cold and windy blowout game at Comerica Park:
*NOTE: Names have NOT been changed to protect the guilty, and context is provided only when it serves my purposes.
"Why can't Verlander pitch both games?" Random lady in line at the Mexican place
"That's so racist!" Matt, to Jillian
Last night, my husband and I sent our kids off to Grandma and Grandpa's house, enjoyed dinner out at Licari's Sicilian Pizza Kitchen, slept in a bit this morning, and then climbed into Jillian's Honda Pilot for the trip to the Big D. It was cloudy. It was windy. It was disappointing, because a rainout Friday night pushed the pitching off by a game, and we didn't get to see Justin Verlander pitch. It was COLD. And the first inning was terrible. Rick Porcello let 8 runs cross the plate, and only one of them was a home run (go, Josh!). The Rangers made it all the way through their batting order 1 1/2 times. In the 1st inning. The Tigers wouldn't get that far until the 5th. Things settled in, but it was still cold and ugly. And we were in the bleachers, and there were rowdy people all around us, and there were a lot of funny things to overhear.
So, here it is. As overheard in the car and at a cold and windy blowout game at Comerica Park:
*NOTE: Names have NOT been changed to protect the guilty, and context is provided only when it serves my purposes.
"Why can't Verlander pitch both games?" Random lady in line at the Mexican place
"I don't know anything about baseball. I just know that Verlander is my next husband." Same random lady after Jillian explained that Justin's arm would fall off if he pitched two games
"The case of Natty Ice I drank before coming here doesn't really help the situation any." Drunk girl sitting behind us
"I hate these nail-biter games. They make me so nervous!" Beka's dad, in a text message during the 1st inning, when the score reached 8-0
"Oh, is there a game going on? I thought it was Rangers batting practice." Beka's response
"Lady, I'm going to rip your visor off and take your bubbles." Jillian
"That's not your real hair." Matt, as muttered under his breath and subsequently overheard by the woman with the fake hair sitting several rows ahead of us. She then lifted her visor off to demonstrate.
"Stop it. This isn't a wedding." Jillian
"I've never been afraid to say how I feel." Jillian
"That's why you scared me." Matt
"Yes. That's why I was afraid of you." Beka, at the exact moment Matt was responding
"Now she's dancing. That's why I don't like women." Beka
"I used to get the two cheeseburgers meal supersized. When I was ten years old." Matt
"I can't stand Ben Roethlisberger as a person." Beka
"Well, I'm not really talking to him much personally, so I don't mind all that." Matt
Less than two hours later:
"I can't stand Ty Cobb. He was a terrible person." Matt
"I'm not too excited about Trader Joe's. Isn't it just some big flea market?" Matt
"Do you realize that you never see baby pigeons? You only see adult pigeons."
"...There is no such thing as baby pigeons." Random drunk girls behind us, arriving at this conclusion after a five-minute conversation consisting of comments exactly like the first line
"I'm going to start calling you guys camels and bring you a vat of water." Red Robin waitress to Beau
"Sister, you just keep driving your handicapped car!" Jillian
"That's so racist!" Matt, to Jillian
"I didn't say anything!" Jillian, pretending there was a defense for her actions
"I knew what you were thinking!" Matt
"I made a White Power shirt." Jillian
"Well, we had a Black Power one, too, so we were equal opportunity." Matt
"You were right two times today, Beau." Beka
"No. I was right three. That time and two others." Beau
"You cheated!" Beka, Matt, and Jillian
"Not every time." Beau
"Oh, s---." 70+-year-old woman, after realizing she and her husband were on the kiss cam
"Is there a rest area coming up? I need to stop. I drank a lot of water." Beau
"Where's the hump where you store your water, Camel?" Matt
We had a great time! Can't wait until our next double date with the crazy Gajtkas.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Things I Think I Think #49-61
A "mothering" edition, because it is just so appropriate today . . . even though it would be better suited in May.
49. I don't actually need Ellie to tell me that she hates to clean. I remember that from the last time.
50. There comes a point where the whining needs to stop. Even if it's by me putting my fingers in my ears and shouting "La-la-la-la" in my head.
51. My kids make me laugh. Every day. And it catches me off guard almost every time, because I can't figure out how they are so funny.
52. My kids also make me cry. Almost as often.
53. I check on my sleeping girls every night when I go to bed, and I kiss my finger and put it on their noses. I've done the same thing nearly every night of their lives.
54. One of these nights I'm going to crawl in bed with Meg and sleep there until morning. Mostly because I can't fit in Addie's crib, and I'm concerned about climbing up onto Ellie's top bunk.
55. I'm pretty sure that I love one of my girls more than the others . . . and the one changes by the minute.
56. I hope that one of my girls sings, one of my girls plays soccer, one of my girls writes, and one of my girls goes to the University of Notre Dame. They can all be the same one.
57. It makes me tear up every time someone tells me my kids are kind and good friends to other children.
58. I really hope that my girls are good friends to each other as they grow up as well and that the four of us enjoy spending time together when they are grown.
59. The hardest thing about being a mom is having your heart walk around outside of your body in the form of a little person. The second hardest thing is patiently saying something for the hundredth time.
60. When I look at my girls I see the negative things they have inherited from me and none of the positive things.
61. I would happily give up all of my dreams for my kids as long as they serve God and follow Him with all of their hearts.
49. I don't actually need Ellie to tell me that she hates to clean. I remember that from the last time.
50. There comes a point where the whining needs to stop. Even if it's by me putting my fingers in my ears and shouting "La-la-la-la" in my head.
51. My kids make me laugh. Every day. And it catches me off guard almost every time, because I can't figure out how they are so funny.
52. My kids also make me cry. Almost as often.
53. I check on my sleeping girls every night when I go to bed, and I kiss my finger and put it on their noses. I've done the same thing nearly every night of their lives.
54. One of these nights I'm going to crawl in bed with Meg and sleep there until morning. Mostly because I can't fit in Addie's crib, and I'm concerned about climbing up onto Ellie's top bunk.
55. I'm pretty sure that I love one of my girls more than the others . . . and the one changes by the minute.
56. I hope that one of my girls sings, one of my girls plays soccer, one of my girls writes, and one of my girls goes to the University of Notre Dame. They can all be the same one.
57. It makes me tear up every time someone tells me my kids are kind and good friends to other children.
58. I really hope that my girls are good friends to each other as they grow up as well and that the four of us enjoy spending time together when they are grown.
59. The hardest thing about being a mom is having your heart walk around outside of your body in the form of a little person. The second hardest thing is patiently saying something for the hundredth time.
60. When I look at my girls I see the negative things they have inherited from me and none of the positive things.
61. I would happily give up all of my dreams for my kids as long as they serve God and follow Him with all of their hearts.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
The Sixteenth Sabbath
Thou lovely source of true delight"Thou Lovely Source of True Delight," Anne Steele
Whom I unseen adore
Unveil Thy beauties to my sight
That I might love Thee more
Oh, that I might love Thee more
Thy glory o'er creation shines
But in Thy sacred Word
I read in fairer brighter lines
My bleeding, dying Lord
See my bleeding, dying Lord
'Tis here, whene'er my comforts droop
And sin and sorrow rise
Thy love with cheering beams of hope
My fainting heart supplies
Oh, my fainting heart's supplied
But ah! Too soon the pleasing scene
Is clouded o'er with pain
My gloomy fears rise dark between
And I again complain
Oh, and I again complain
Jesus, my Lord, my life, my light
Oh come with blissful ray
Break radiant through the shades of night
And chase my fears away
Won't You chase my fears away
Then shall my soul with rapture trace
The wonders of Thy love
But the full glories of Thy face
Are only known above
They are only known above
Thou lovely source of true delight
Whom I unseen adore
Unveil Thy beauties to my sight
That I might love Thee more
Oh, that I might love Thee more
Friday, April 13, 2012
Things We Know Nothing About
This is yesterday's blog post, take two. Along with knowing nothing about the beautiful future and plans God has for us, sometimes we are forced to acknowledge that we know nothing about the days God has numbered for us or the countless ways He protects us every one of them. Today is one of those days.
Addie is madly in love with horses. She especially likes to see the "horsies in the sand" at a riding school we discovered on Michigan in between Grand River Drive and Crahen. She asks to see them every day after we drop Ellie off at school and again after we pick her up. Most days I comply, because I like the drive up the hill on Michigan, and, let's be honest, there's just something about horses. Today I told her we had to hurry home from picking Ellie up so we could wrap Beau's birthday presents and the girls could make cards for him.
So there we were, on the highway. We took the Fulton entrance onto I-96, like we normally do. I was grumpy, because the cars in front of me were not accelerating on the entrance ramp. They were holding us back. We managed to get on the highway (at about 55 MPH), and I merged into traffic, quickly getting my speed up to 70 MPH.
Just west of the East Beltline overpass, I noticed something flying through the air a few car lengths ahead of us. It looked like a rod or something, but my brain struggled to process what I was seeing. All I could think was there was nowhere for me to go but forward. At 70 MPH it doesn't take long to traverse a few hundred yards, so it didn't take long before it became clear that there was going to be an impact between my van full of precious girls and this object. I had enough time to slow down and pray that it wouldn't come through the windshield just as it seemed to land on the road in front of us. With no other option, because I knew swerving would be the worst thing I could do at that speed, I drove over it. The thunk it made startled the girls and was quickly erased by the ding of my check engine light.
Deciding I should head straight to the car shop--it was 4:00 on a Friday, after all--I drove to our normal car repair store where they were able to get our car right in to assess the damage. After about an hour, we learned that the damage was close to $2,000. I'll end up getting a new bumper, air conditioning compressor, ambient air sensor, and maybe even a new radiator! Exciting times. We have insurance to pay for the damage after we pay our deductible. The money for that is in the bank, and it may even end up being only a comprehensive claim, which will save us $800. Jehovah Jireh. God provides.
But, as I reflect on it, none of that is the point.
The point is that there are things we know nothing about. If I had it to do over, obviously we would go see the horsies in the sand today. But I didn't know anything about what was on the highway, so I made the choice based on the 20 minutes it would save us to avoid that extra stop. I also didn't know anything about the rod of metal flipping through the air on the highway. If I had, maybe I'd have been grateful that the car in front of us didn't accelerate fast enough and held us back. Maybe if it hadn't, we would have been a bit further down the highway where our windshield would have met a metal rod at 70 MPH.
How many times in my day, in my week, am I in the middle of things I know nothing about? How often has God had me be just far enough to the right or just fast enough or just late enough that I missed a disaster? When my dad was in Iraq, there was story after story about him or others he worked with being in just the right place or leaving where they were just in time or "randomly" not being where they always were at that time--those stories meant the difference between their lives and their deaths.
It's no different for any of us. So thank you, God, for having me and my precious daughters in the palm of your hand. Thank you for having Beau there, too. And for having such care for all of us that nothing can happen to us without it first passing through Your hands.
Heidelberg Catechism, Q & A 1
Addie is madly in love with horses. She especially likes to see the "horsies in the sand" at a riding school we discovered on Michigan in between Grand River Drive and Crahen. She asks to see them every day after we drop Ellie off at school and again after we pick her up. Most days I comply, because I like the drive up the hill on Michigan, and, let's be honest, there's just something about horses. Today I told her we had to hurry home from picking Ellie up so we could wrap Beau's birthday presents and the girls could make cards for him.
So there we were, on the highway. We took the Fulton entrance onto I-96, like we normally do. I was grumpy, because the cars in front of me were not accelerating on the entrance ramp. They were holding us back. We managed to get on the highway (at about 55 MPH), and I merged into traffic, quickly getting my speed up to 70 MPH.
Just west of the East Beltline overpass, I noticed something flying through the air a few car lengths ahead of us. It looked like a rod or something, but my brain struggled to process what I was seeing. All I could think was there was nowhere for me to go but forward. At 70 MPH it doesn't take long to traverse a few hundred yards, so it didn't take long before it became clear that there was going to be an impact between my van full of precious girls and this object. I had enough time to slow down and pray that it wouldn't come through the windshield just as it seemed to land on the road in front of us. With no other option, because I knew swerving would be the worst thing I could do at that speed, I drove over it. The thunk it made startled the girls and was quickly erased by the ding of my check engine light.
Deciding I should head straight to the car shop--it was 4:00 on a Friday, after all--I drove to our normal car repair store where they were able to get our car right in to assess the damage. After about an hour, we learned that the damage was close to $2,000. I'll end up getting a new bumper, air conditioning compressor, ambient air sensor, and maybe even a new radiator! Exciting times. We have insurance to pay for the damage after we pay our deductible. The money for that is in the bank, and it may even end up being only a comprehensive claim, which will save us $800. Jehovah Jireh. God provides.
But, as I reflect on it, none of that is the point.
The point is that there are things we know nothing about. If I had it to do over, obviously we would go see the horsies in the sand today. But I didn't know anything about what was on the highway, so I made the choice based on the 20 minutes it would save us to avoid that extra stop. I also didn't know anything about the rod of metal flipping through the air on the highway. If I had, maybe I'd have been grateful that the car in front of us didn't accelerate fast enough and held us back. Maybe if it hadn't, we would have been a bit further down the highway where our windshield would have met a metal rod at 70 MPH.
How many times in my day, in my week, am I in the middle of things I know nothing about? How often has God had me be just far enough to the right or just fast enough or just late enough that I missed a disaster? When my dad was in Iraq, there was story after story about him or others he worked with being in just the right place or leaving where they were just in time or "randomly" not being where they always were at that time--those stories meant the difference between their lives and their deaths.
It's no different for any of us. So thank you, God, for having me and my precious daughters in the palm of your hand. Thank you for having Beau there, too. And for having such care for all of us that nothing can happen to us without it first passing through Your hands.
What is your only comfort in life and in death?
That I am not my own, but I belong, in body and in soul, in life and in death, to my faithful savior Jesus Christ.
He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood, and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil. He also watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in heaven: in fact, all things must work together for my salvation.
Because I belong to him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit, assures me of eternal life and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.
Heidelberg Catechism, Q & A 1
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Becoming More Than Yourself
I have recently begun to enjoy watching golf on television. During that time, I've gotten to "know" a few of the golfers on the PGA tour and enjoy following them. Typically my favorite golfers seem to develop a curse once I admit to liking them, and they don't do well, but then again I do like to root for the underdog. That made it especially fun to see Bubba Watson and his pink driver win the Masters on Easter Sunday.
What made it the most fun, perhaps, isn't the way he won or even the fact that he never had a professional golf lesson growing up. It is summed up in this simple statement: "I never got this far in my dreams, so this isn't a dream come true."
That really got me thinking. I have a lot of dreams. But I can't even begin to dream where I'll really end up in my life, what is actually in store for me.
Several weeks ago, I entered a contest to get a devotional printed in a new Moms' Devotional Bible that Zondervan is publishing. I never expected to make it through to the final round, and I burst into tears when I got the email from them telling me that I was a finalist. Now, there are two days left until I hear whether my devotional or the other entry is the winner. I've gone through several emotions since learning I was a finalist, and I keep thanking God for taking it this far--and asking Him to prepare me forwhen if I don't win. I don't want to be too disappointed. And, to be honest, like Bubba Watson, I never got there in my dreams. I never dreamed about being published in a devotional Bible. I never really dreamed about being a Christian author. I have dreams that involve my stories, but the truth is that I have no clue what my future really looks like.
When I start to get cocky about my writing or about my teaching or about any work that I'm doing, there's a voice that reminds me of the reality of who I am. I'm a child of God. He has given me the talent that I have. Thomas Kincaid's mother told him when he was young that his talents were God's gift to him. She went on to say that what he did with his talents was his gift to God. That's what I need to remember, too. So when I live out what I think are my dreams, instead I need to just live out my love for God.
In my Bible reading this morning, I came across these words of Jesus (as recounted in The Message in Luke 14:11): "What I'm saying is, If you walk around with your nose in the air, you're going to end up flat on your face. But if you're content to be simply yourself, you will become more than yourself."
I need to cut that out and hang in on my music stand when I sing on the worship team on Sunday morning, on the mirror in my bathroom, on my computer, on my dashboard . . . I need to write it on my heart and engrave it on my hand. Whether being simply myself is using a pink driver in my golf game or writing from my heart or singing loudly, that's who I need to be. Because that's who God made me. And, when I give it to Him--do it for Him--it's more than enough. And He will make me more than myself.
What made it the most fun, perhaps, isn't the way he won or even the fact that he never had a professional golf lesson growing up. It is summed up in this simple statement: "I never got this far in my dreams, so this isn't a dream come true."
That really got me thinking. I have a lot of dreams. But I can't even begin to dream where I'll really end up in my life, what is actually in store for me.
Several weeks ago, I entered a contest to get a devotional printed in a new Moms' Devotional Bible that Zondervan is publishing. I never expected to make it through to the final round, and I burst into tears when I got the email from them telling me that I was a finalist. Now, there are two days left until I hear whether my devotional or the other entry is the winner. I've gone through several emotions since learning I was a finalist, and I keep thanking God for taking it this far--and asking Him to prepare me for
When I start to get cocky about my writing or about my teaching or about any work that I'm doing, there's a voice that reminds me of the reality of who I am. I'm a child of God. He has given me the talent that I have. Thomas Kincaid's mother told him when he was young that his talents were God's gift to him. She went on to say that what he did with his talents was his gift to God. That's what I need to remember, too. So when I live out what I think are my dreams, instead I need to just live out my love for God.
In my Bible reading this morning, I came across these words of Jesus (as recounted in The Message in Luke 14:11): "What I'm saying is, If you walk around with your nose in the air, you're going to end up flat on your face. But if you're content to be simply yourself, you will become more than yourself."
I need to cut that out and hang in on my music stand when I sing on the worship team on Sunday morning, on the mirror in my bathroom, on my computer, on my dashboard . . . I need to write it on my heart and engrave it on my hand. Whether being simply myself is using a pink driver in my golf game or writing from my heart or singing loudly, that's who I need to be. Because that's who God made me. And, when I give it to Him--do it for Him--it's more than enough. And He will make me more than myself.
Monday, April 09, 2012
Vacationing From Excuses
Oh, brother. I took spring break off of work so I could play with my kids and begin the (not so) fun task of potty training my youngest. Along with my vacation from work, I apparently took a vacation from all of the self discipline I've been working to cultivate. I ate what I wanted, went to bed when I wanted, slept in almost every day, worked out not at all, fell behind in my Bible reading, and barely blogged. Sounds awful to me. Well, the relaxing and sleeping in was nice. So was the eating out. And somehow I lucked out and only gained 1.8 pounds, so perhaps I've learned some healthy eating-out habits. But, still, I hate what I did.
In an attempt to get all of my excuses out of the way now and find my way back to how well I did in January, I give you every excuse I've used since February:
* I'm so tired.
* I ate well yesterday and have reached a weight lower than where I've been in almost a year. One day won't hurt.
* But Hawaii Five-0 is on at 10:00 Monday nights--I can't wake up at 5:00 a.m. after I stay up that late.
* How many times will you get to eat from the ice cream store in March? (For the record, I can give you three. But they were all once-in-a-lifetime opportunities.)
* It's my vacation. I deserve to sleep in.
* My workout buddies aren't going, so why should I?
* The kids barely slept last night. I need one more hour.
* I'll work out tonight.
* I'll work out extra hard tomorrow.
* I'm out with friends, so I should get to eat whatever I want.
* I deserve this snack.
* Easter only comes once a year.
* If I eat it all in one day then I won't be tempted tomorrow.
* These workouts aren't working anyway.
* This headache is killing me. I can't work out.
* Oh, I bet these sniffles are becoming a cold. Better get extra sleep.
* I'm sore from yesterday's workout. Better rest my muscles.
* I already screwed up--go big or go home.
What am I missing? And what are your favorites? Let's get them all out, start right now with the good choices, go to bed on time, wake up early, and do those bike sprints. Instead of vacationing from good habits, I need to vacation from excuses. Hopefully it will be even more painful to come back from that vacation!
In an attempt to get all of my excuses out of the way now and find my way back to how well I did in January, I give you every excuse I've used since February:
* I'm so tired.
* I ate well yesterday and have reached a weight lower than where I've been in almost a year. One day won't hurt.
* But Hawaii Five-0 is on at 10:00 Monday nights--I can't wake up at 5:00 a.m. after I stay up that late.
* How many times will you get to eat from the ice cream store in March? (For the record, I can give you three. But they were all once-in-a-lifetime opportunities.)
* It's my vacation. I deserve to sleep in.
* My workout buddies aren't going, so why should I?
* The kids barely slept last night. I need one more hour.
* I'll work out tonight.
* I'll work out extra hard tomorrow.
* I'm out with friends, so I should get to eat whatever I want.
* I deserve this snack.
* Easter only comes once a year.
* If I eat it all in one day then I won't be tempted tomorrow.
* These workouts aren't working anyway.
* This headache is killing me. I can't work out.
* Oh, I bet these sniffles are becoming a cold. Better get extra sleep.
* I'm sore from yesterday's workout. Better rest my muscles.
* I already screwed up--go big or go home.
What am I missing? And what are your favorites? Let's get them all out, start right now with the good choices, go to bed on time, wake up early, and do those bike sprints. Instead of vacationing from good habits, I need to vacation from excuses. Hopefully it will be even more painful to come back from that vacation!
Sunday, April 08, 2012
Easter Sunday - The Fifteenth Sabbath
It's Resurrection Sunday! And because of it, our entire lives are different. Our pastor asked this question today: What if the resurrection is true?
Indeed. What if it is? What does that mean for my life? It means that everything is different. It means that I have hope. It means that the wounds of my life and my darkest days can be and are used by God to bring about my deepest joy. The resurrection IS true, and because of it life is unspeakably worth the living.
Indeed. What if it is? What does that mean for my life? It means that everything is different. It means that I have hope. It means that the wounds of my life and my darkest days can be and are used by God to bring about my deepest joy. The resurrection IS true, and because of it life is unspeakably worth the living.
God sent His Son--they called Him Jesus,"Because He Lives," Bill and Gloria Gaither
He came to love, heal, and forgive;
He lived and died to buy my pardon,
An empty grave is there to prove by Savior lives.
Because He lives I can face tomorrow,
Because He lives, all fear is gone.
Because I know He holds the future
And life is worth the living, just because He lives!
How sweet to hold a newborn baby
And feel the pride and joy he gives;
But greater still, the calm assurance:
This child can face uncertain days, because He lives!
Because He lives, I can face tomorrow,
Because He lives, all fear is gone.
Because I know He holds the future,
And life is worth the living, just because He lives!
And then one day, I'll cross the river.
I'll fight life's final war with pain.
And then, as death gives way to vict'ry,
I'll see the lights of glory, and I'll know He lives!
Because He lives, I can face tomorrow,
Because He lives, all fear is gone.
Because I know He holds the future,
And life is worth the living, just because He lives!
Friday, April 06, 2012
Good Friday
Tonight our church held its traditional Tenebrae service for Good Friday. For the first time we were joined by two neighborhood churches, and all three pastors and music teams, as well as members from each congregation, participated in the readings. The pastor of New City Church gave a homily to start us off. Something he said really struck me. I think it's especially poignant as we spend so much time now talking about injustice--both in and out of the courtroom--and whether or not justice was actually served.
Amen. And then amen again.
Seven years ago today, I spent my first Good Friday with a child growing inside of me. There would be two more of them, but I remember that first so well. At the time I worked for a Christian school that had "mandatory" staff devotions every morning. That year for the Good Friday devotions, we met at St. Andrew's in downtown Grand Rapids where we participated in the Stations of the Cross.
The day before, I had a doctor's appointment where my doctor noted that my white blood count was elevated, so she recommended that I have an early ultra sound to make sure everything was okay. Now, I know very little about medicine or the human body, but I knew what she was thinking of. She was concerned my white count (the fighter cells) was high because my body was trying to fight off the baby. That, and the fact that my ultra sound couldn't be scheduled until the following Wednesday, was fresh on my mind as I proceeded through the Stations.
At Station Four, where Jesus meets His mother, I very nearly passed out. Then I had a panic attack. I spent the rest of the Stations in the bathroom trying to decide whether I was going to throw up, pass out, or just curl up in a little ball. I called my mom. And she told me something that I will likely never forget, as it has proved to be so true: now that you are a mother, Easter will never be the same again.
Pastor JT from New City Church went on in his homily tonight. He talked more about the injustice of the justice of Jesus' trial. He talked about Jesus hanging on the cross and how his pleading in the Garden the night before had been about more than simply not wanting the physical pain of being crucified. He wanted the cup of being the sacrificial lamb to pass before Him, because He knew. He knew what He would take upon Himself and He knew how ugly He would become . . . to His Father. To the holy God who cannot be in the presence of sin. To the holy God who cannot even stand to look upon sin. To the holy God who abandoned His own Son because of our sin.
As a mother, I can't imagine looking at my child with that much disgust. As a mother, I can't imagine watching my child die a horrible death for people who are gambling for his clothing. As a mother, I can't imagine raising my children in a world where all of that hadn't happened.
It is finished. Three simple words that summarize all of the history of the world since creation. Three simple words that declare the culmination of all of God's plans. Three simple words that unite us with God for eternity. Three simple words for my marriage and for my beautiful children and for those winning their battles against cancer and for those losing their battles with life . . . three simple words that make this a good Friday indeed.
[Jesus' crucifixion] was the single greatest act of injustice our world has ever committed. And yet it was the single greatest act of justice that God has ever committed.
Amen. And then amen again.
Seven years ago today, I spent my first Good Friday with a child growing inside of me. There would be two more of them, but I remember that first so well. At the time I worked for a Christian school that had "mandatory" staff devotions every morning. That year for the Good Friday devotions, we met at St. Andrew's in downtown Grand Rapids where we participated in the Stations of the Cross.
The day before, I had a doctor's appointment where my doctor noted that my white blood count was elevated, so she recommended that I have an early ultra sound to make sure everything was okay. Now, I know very little about medicine or the human body, but I knew what she was thinking of. She was concerned my white count (the fighter cells) was high because my body was trying to fight off the baby. That, and the fact that my ultra sound couldn't be scheduled until the following Wednesday, was fresh on my mind as I proceeded through the Stations.
At Station Four, where Jesus meets His mother, I very nearly passed out. Then I had a panic attack. I spent the rest of the Stations in the bathroom trying to decide whether I was going to throw up, pass out, or just curl up in a little ball. I called my mom. And she told me something that I will likely never forget, as it has proved to be so true: now that you are a mother, Easter will never be the same again.
Pastor JT from New City Church went on in his homily tonight. He talked more about the injustice of the justice of Jesus' trial. He talked about Jesus hanging on the cross and how his pleading in the Garden the night before had been about more than simply not wanting the physical pain of being crucified. He wanted the cup of being the sacrificial lamb to pass before Him, because He knew. He knew what He would take upon Himself and He knew how ugly He would become . . . to His Father. To the holy God who cannot be in the presence of sin. To the holy God who cannot even stand to look upon sin. To the holy God who abandoned His own Son because of our sin.
As a mother, I can't imagine looking at my child with that much disgust. As a mother, I can't imagine watching my child die a horrible death for people who are gambling for his clothing. As a mother, I can't imagine raising my children in a world where all of that hadn't happened.
It is finished. Three simple words that summarize all of the history of the world since creation. Three simple words that declare the culmination of all of God's plans. Three simple words that unite us with God for eternity. Three simple words for my marriage and for my beautiful children and for those winning their battles against cancer and for those losing their battles with life . . . three simple words that make this a good Friday indeed.
Monday, April 02, 2012
Book Seven
Swamplandia!
Karen Russell
I actually finished this book a week or so ago and just haven't had the chance (or the internet access) to post my thoughts about it. It turns out that might actually be a good thing, as I've needed that long to process it. A friend of mine said, in reviewing this book, "I have never read a book like this." There is a lot of truth in that statement. I haven't either. So I don't really know what to say about it.
Swamplandia! is a coming-of-age story for three siblings as their family's alligator resort in the swamplands of Florida sees its last tourists. Each family member deals with it in a different manner--one tries to save it by leaving, another tries to escape it, another tries to save it by staying, and another inexplicably disappears. Even more than all of their efforts to save Swamplandia!, this is a story of a family trying to save a mother who dies in the first pages of the book. In so many ways, Swamplandia! the resort is built upon this woman, this mother, this alligator wrestler, and it didn't stand a chance without her. In just as many ways, Swamplandia! the novel is also built upon this woman, this mother, this wife, and a family that didn't stand a chance without her.
When I say this is a novel unlike anything I've ever read, I mean that I have never witnessed, firsthand, the destruction of a family when its matriarch is stolen from it. And I saw it, page after page, as I was unable to put down the book. I had to know if and how this family could survive when its life had been snuffed out.
Many reviews called this a laugh-out-loud novel. I can't say that's true, except in the guilty laughter that comes at the absurd way humans try to recover from losing their joy. I would more say Swamplandia! was the achingly beautiful story of a family losing all it had and fighting its way back to saving itself.
Karen Russell
I actually finished this book a week or so ago and just haven't had the chance (or the internet access) to post my thoughts about it. It turns out that might actually be a good thing, as I've needed that long to process it. A friend of mine said, in reviewing this book, "I have never read a book like this." There is a lot of truth in that statement. I haven't either. So I don't really know what to say about it.
Swamplandia! is a coming-of-age story for three siblings as their family's alligator resort in the swamplands of Florida sees its last tourists. Each family member deals with it in a different manner--one tries to save it by leaving, another tries to escape it, another tries to save it by staying, and another inexplicably disappears. Even more than all of their efforts to save Swamplandia!, this is a story of a family trying to save a mother who dies in the first pages of the book. In so many ways, Swamplandia! the resort is built upon this woman, this mother, this alligator wrestler, and it didn't stand a chance without her. In just as many ways, Swamplandia! the novel is also built upon this woman, this mother, this wife, and a family that didn't stand a chance without her.
When I say this is a novel unlike anything I've ever read, I mean that I have never witnessed, firsthand, the destruction of a family when its matriarch is stolen from it. And I saw it, page after page, as I was unable to put down the book. I had to know if and how this family could survive when its life had been snuffed out.
Many reviews called this a laugh-out-loud novel. I can't say that's true, except in the guilty laughter that comes at the absurd way humans try to recover from losing their joy. I would more say Swamplandia! was the achingly beautiful story of a family losing all it had and fighting its way back to saving itself.
Sunday, April 01, 2012
The Fourteenth Sabbath
Hosanna, loud hosanna, the little children sang;"Hosanna, Loud Hosanna" - Jeanette Threlfall
Through pillared court and temple the lovely anthem rang.
To Jesus, who had blessed them close folded to His breast,
The children sang their praises, the simplest and the best.
From Olivet they followed mid an exultant crowd,
The victor palm branch waving, and chanting clear and loud.
The Lord of men and angels rode on in lowly state,
Nor scorned that little children should on His bidding wait.
“Hosanna in the highest!” that ancient song we sing,
For Christ is our Redeemer, the Lord of heaven our King.
O may we ever praise Him with heart and life and voice,
And in His blissful presence eternally rejoice!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Friday, March 30, 2012
Ode to Technology
I'm back!
After one (long) week without the internet, we now return to our regularly-scheduled (almost) daily blogging. Whew. It was a long week. At one point toward the end, I said to a couple of friends, "You know, it's not so bad not to have the internet. We just have a lot of questions that can't be answered." It was a joke, but, as with all jokes, there was a grain of truth in it.
In that week, my husband and I learned a lot about ourselves:
* My husband discovered that he is addicted to an online game. He can't let anyone pass him, so he had to check in every day, even to the point of using all of the data on his iPhone plan.
* We're even more grateful for our iPhones, or we would have been completely cut off. Which would have been awful.
* Apparently I can't research anything without Wikipedia and IMDB.
* I also can't pay my bills or check my bank account without the internet.
* If I couldn't text, I'm also not sure I could have stayed connected with any of my friends.
* Strangely, it is extremely difficult to communicate with my new internet provider without some access to the internet. Which I didn't yet have.
That really got me thinking. How did two people who grew up without email addresses, internet research, or online banking and had to play board games or Minesweeper, wait for a bank statement to arrive in the mail, and dial 5-3-0-S-H-O-W for movie times end up here? And why can't we fend for ourselves? I had two people offer to let me go to their house to use their internet, and I very nearly went to ask my neighbor for his password so I could use his wireless. It's rather like getting a calculator or cash register and then having to think hard about how to make change for a dollar.
Really, though, we're a society that depends on technology for almost everything. The scale that weighs me in at the gym uses a computer. The van that I drive around cannot function if the computer goes down. I rely on weather.com and yp.com to answer questions that a phone call, check of the daily (HA!) newspaper, or flip through the phone book used to answer. I track my weight gain and loss with my computer, work from home via remote access to my desk computer, arrange babysitters and double dates via email and texting, check restaurant menus and movie times on my phone . . . the list goes on and on.
Technology can be such a gift. And when it's taken away, it's hard to remember how life used to be before we had it. In fact, when I look at my goals, there is really only one that I can accomplish without technology: daily Bible reading. And it's the only one I'm going to meet this month.
After one (long) week without the internet, we now return to our regularly-scheduled (almost) daily blogging. Whew. It was a long week. At one point toward the end, I said to a couple of friends, "You know, it's not so bad not to have the internet. We just have a lot of questions that can't be answered." It was a joke, but, as with all jokes, there was a grain of truth in it.
In that week, my husband and I learned a lot about ourselves:
* My husband discovered that he is addicted to an online game. He can't let anyone pass him, so he had to check in every day, even to the point of using all of the data on his iPhone plan.
* We're even more grateful for our iPhones, or we would have been completely cut off. Which would have been awful.
* Apparently I can't research anything without Wikipedia and IMDB.
* I also can't pay my bills or check my bank account without the internet.
* If I couldn't text, I'm also not sure I could have stayed connected with any of my friends.
* Strangely, it is extremely difficult to communicate with my new internet provider without some access to the internet. Which I didn't yet have.
That really got me thinking. How did two people who grew up without email addresses, internet research, or online banking and had to play board games or Minesweeper, wait for a bank statement to arrive in the mail, and dial 5-3-0-S-H-O-W for movie times end up here? And why can't we fend for ourselves? I had two people offer to let me go to their house to use their internet, and I very nearly went to ask my neighbor for his password so I could use his wireless. It's rather like getting a calculator or cash register and then having to think hard about how to make change for a dollar.
Really, though, we're a society that depends on technology for almost everything. The scale that weighs me in at the gym uses a computer. The van that I drive around cannot function if the computer goes down. I rely on weather.com and yp.com to answer questions that a phone call, check of the daily (HA!) newspaper, or flip through the phone book used to answer. I track my weight gain and loss with my computer, work from home via remote access to my desk computer, arrange babysitters and double dates via email and texting, check restaurant menus and movie times on my phone . . . the list goes on and on.
Technology can be such a gift. And when it's taken away, it's hard to remember how life used to be before we had it. In fact, when I look at my goals, there is really only one that I can accomplish without technology: daily Bible reading. And it's the only one I'm going to meet this month.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Please Excuse Me If You've Heard This One
This morning in my Bible reading, I (re)read the story of the quadraplegic man whose friends bring him to Jesus. Today's time through was in Luke, which is the more familiar text to me. It's a story that I've heard many times in my life, and I even used to know a song about it (now lost somewhere between here and Vacation Bible School at Hamlin Reformed Church, I think). Yet, it's one of my favorite stories in the Bible.
Eleven years ago I was in the middle of a rough year. To call it a rough year is actually quite the understatement. I know I've shared this, but I had several family funerals, illnesses and funerals for family friends, and my husband and I separated. Through all this, I found it increasingly hard to get to Jesus on my own. I just didn't think I had the strength to do it. I would try, but I just felt so weary. A dear friend of mine said, "Beka, we'll carry you there."
Exactly. My friends would carry me. And they did. Just like the quadraplegic man with his four friends who carried him to Jesus and let nothing--even a climb on top of a house and the thatch roof--stand in the way of them setting him at the feet of the Savior. My friends did that for me. It was their pleasure, they said. They did it because they loved me, they said. They did it because it was an honor to them to bring me to the One who could heal my heart.
Fast forward through April and part of May and to a phone call from a friend. She called to tell me that the twin brother of my dear friend's husband had died. I was stunned. Our mutual friend was stunned. My dear friend was stunned. Immediately I phoned her. When she answered, she told me that she didn't know what to say or what to do. Without thinking, I said, "It's really not so bad. You just lie there." And then we carried her. It was our pleasure. We did it because we loved her. We did it because it was an honor to bring her to the One who could heal her heart.
Through the past 11 years, she's carried me again, and I've carried her. Together we've carried other friends, and I know that we will continue to do that. It always comes back around. And it's always an honor.
Surely it seems difficult to climb onto that mat and just lie still. The quadraplegic man had it made--he couldn't move. Too often we try to get up, because we just don't feel right just lying there. But that's our job. For that season, we have to just lie there, and it really isn't so bad. For other seasons, we get to carry. But if we never trust anyone to carry us, will they trust us to carry them?
Which side of the mat do you find yourself on right now? Are you carrying someone? Then you know the honor that is there. Are you lying on the mat, being carried? Then you know the love that is there. This is family. We're friends. We do it because we love each other. And because we know that there is no one else who can heal our hearts.
Eleven years ago I was in the middle of a rough year. To call it a rough year is actually quite the understatement. I know I've shared this, but I had several family funerals, illnesses and funerals for family friends, and my husband and I separated. Through all this, I found it increasingly hard to get to Jesus on my own. I just didn't think I had the strength to do it. I would try, but I just felt so weary. A dear friend of mine said, "Beka, we'll carry you there."
Exactly. My friends would carry me. And they did. Just like the quadraplegic man with his four friends who carried him to Jesus and let nothing--even a climb on top of a house and the thatch roof--stand in the way of them setting him at the feet of the Savior. My friends did that for me. It was their pleasure, they said. They did it because they loved me, they said. They did it because it was an honor to them to bring me to the One who could heal my heart.
Fast forward through April and part of May and to a phone call from a friend. She called to tell me that the twin brother of my dear friend's husband had died. I was stunned. Our mutual friend was stunned. My dear friend was stunned. Immediately I phoned her. When she answered, she told me that she didn't know what to say or what to do. Without thinking, I said, "It's really not so bad. You just lie there." And then we carried her. It was our pleasure. We did it because we loved her. We did it because it was an honor to bring her to the One who could heal her heart.
Through the past 11 years, she's carried me again, and I've carried her. Together we've carried other friends, and I know that we will continue to do that. It always comes back around. And it's always an honor.
Surely it seems difficult to climb onto that mat and just lie still. The quadraplegic man had it made--he couldn't move. Too often we try to get up, because we just don't feel right just lying there. But that's our job. For that season, we have to just lie there, and it really isn't so bad. For other seasons, we get to carry. But if we never trust anyone to carry us, will they trust us to carry them?
Which side of the mat do you find yourself on right now? Are you carrying someone? Then you know the honor that is there. Are you lying on the mat, being carried? Then you know the love that is there. This is family. We're friends. We do it because we love each other. And because we know that there is no one else who can heal our hearts.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
The Twelfth Sabbath
Oh, God, our help in ages past
Our hope for years to come
Our shelter from the stormy blast
And our eternal home.
Under the shadow of Thy throne
Thy saints have dwelt secure
Sufficient is Thine arm alone
And our defense is sure.
Before the hills in order stood
Or earth received her frame
From everlasting Thou art God
To endless years the same.
A thousand ages in Thy sight
Are like an evening gone
Short as the watch that ends the night
Before the rising son.
Oh, God, our help in ages past
Our hope for years to cmoe
Be Thou our guard while life shall last
And our eternal Home.
"Oh God Our Help in Ages Past," Isaac Watts
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Why Do We Want to Go to Church?
Overheard at the dinner table tonight:
Addie: "Why do we want to go to church tomorrow?"
Ellie: "Because it's Sunday."
Addie: "But why do we want to go to church tomorrow?"
Ellie: "That's what we do on Sundays."
Addie: "But why do we want to go to church tomorrow?"
Meg: "Because we want to praise God."
Amen, and amen, Meg. Because we want to praise God. Why do we want to go to church tomorrow? Because we want to praise God. It ended the conversation at our dinner table, certainly. But it also answers a question that our pastor asked us last Sunday:
Why are you here this morning?
So many of us struggled to find the church answer--or even admit our honest answer. Leave it to Meg to get to the heart:
Because we want to praise God.
Addie: "Why do we want to go to church tomorrow?"
Ellie: "Because it's Sunday."
Addie: "But why do we want to go to church tomorrow?"
Ellie: "That's what we do on Sundays."
Addie: "But why do we want to go to church tomorrow?"
Meg: "Because we want to praise God."
Amen, and amen, Meg. Because we want to praise God. Why do we want to go to church tomorrow? Because we want to praise God. It ended the conversation at our dinner table, certainly. But it also answers a question that our pastor asked us last Sunday:
Why are you here this morning?
So many of us struggled to find the church answer--or even admit our honest answer. Leave it to Meg to get to the heart:
Because we want to praise God.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Things I Think I Think #35-48
In lighter news:
35. I have discovered that I have a serious passion for those sounds that carry great meaning without ever uttering a word. You know them when you hear them. If you don't, just ask Julie Schalk.
36. There is very little that calms me down more than driving down country roads with the windows open on blue-sky spring days.
37. I love March Madness in spite of the fact that I watch almost no college basketball during the rest of the year.
38. I get totally grossed out talking about teeth issues. I can't imagine being a dentist and putting my hands in those dirty mouths. (Sorry, Russ!)
39. At the same time--or maybe because of that--I hope to die at an old age with all of my current teeth.
40. My subscription to Entertainment Weekly resulted in a free subscription to Us Weekly. When it (Us Weekly) arrives in the mail each week, I drop everything to read it cover to cover. When there's a double issue, I get a bit sad knowing next week won't have that gem in my mailbox.
41. I LOVE tacky "B" horror films on Chiller and SyFy. That love of poor acting and excessive drama is probably what fuels my addiction to Days of Our Lives.
42. I have a friend who often shares with me what she and another friend did when they were younger, and I giggle inside because I have also done or would happily have done most of them too. Or maybe I'd still do them.
43. Because we moved around so much when I was growing up, I don't have a best friend--or even a consistent one--who has known me through all the different stages of my life. It makes me want that for my kids.
44. Every time the blowing wind takes my breath away I remember standing at my bedroom window in South Dakota and feeling that for the first time. It amazes me that a feeling can still be so vivid after 26 years.
45. When I think about "home," I first think about my husband and my girls; then I think about my pillow and my bed; then I think about South Dakota.
46. I really believe I saw the tooth fairy when I was young. I'm just not sure how that worked now that I'm an adult.
47. Dirt and bugs are the number one things I don't like about camping and the only things I don't like about spring.
48. If I got to eat a couple of scoops of ice cream every day for the rest of my life, I wouldn't tire of it. Even if I only got vanilla.
35. I have discovered that I have a serious passion for those sounds that carry great meaning without ever uttering a word. You know them when you hear them. If you don't, just ask Julie Schalk.
36. There is very little that calms me down more than driving down country roads with the windows open on blue-sky spring days.
37. I love March Madness in spite of the fact that I watch almost no college basketball during the rest of the year.
38. I get totally grossed out talking about teeth issues. I can't imagine being a dentist and putting my hands in those dirty mouths. (Sorry, Russ!)
39. At the same time--or maybe because of that--I hope to die at an old age with all of my current teeth.
40. My subscription to Entertainment Weekly resulted in a free subscription to Us Weekly. When it (Us Weekly) arrives in the mail each week, I drop everything to read it cover to cover. When there's a double issue, I get a bit sad knowing next week won't have that gem in my mailbox.
41. I LOVE tacky "B" horror films on Chiller and SyFy. That love of poor acting and excessive drama is probably what fuels my addiction to Days of Our Lives.
42. I have a friend who often shares with me what she and another friend did when they were younger, and I giggle inside because I have also done or would happily have done most of them too. Or maybe I'd still do them.
43. Because we moved around so much when I was growing up, I don't have a best friend--or even a consistent one--who has known me through all the different stages of my life. It makes me want that for my kids.
44. Every time the blowing wind takes my breath away I remember standing at my bedroom window in South Dakota and feeling that for the first time. It amazes me that a feeling can still be so vivid after 26 years.
45. When I think about "home," I first think about my husband and my girls; then I think about my pillow and my bed; then I think about South Dakota.
46. I really believe I saw the tooth fairy when I was young. I'm just not sure how that worked now that I'm an adult.
47. Dirt and bugs are the number one things I don't like about camping and the only things I don't like about spring.
48. If I got to eat a couple of scoops of ice cream every day for the rest of my life, I wouldn't tire of it. Even if I only got vanilla.
Quit Playing Games With Our Kids
{Steps onto soap box.}
An email came across my desk at work last week. It noted $20 million in funds for the Victims of Child Abuse Act that had been excluded from the FY13 budget as proposed by President Obama. For the first time since 1994, there was to be no funding for the National Children's Alliance, which means a cut in program support for every accredited children's advocacy center in the country (including the Children's Assessment Center, which is my day job) and virtually no funds allocated for emerging centers in counties where they don't yet exist. Then, on Monday evening, another email came through. This one stated that the FY13 budget further proposes to reallocate $365 million in funds from the Victims of Crime Act, which would mean cuts to--and possible elimination of--services for crime victims all across the country. In Kent County alone that means a number of cuts to children: victim witness programs, domestic violence shelters, and the Center's counseling and victim advocacy services. The real kicker is that the funds are paid through criminal fines and penalties and don't affect the size of the federal budget at all. It is proposed that they will be used to pay for other line items in the budget outside of true crime victim services.
As we talked about it internally and formulated our response, our pleas to Representative Amash and Senators Stabenow (who has signed on to save the Victims of Child Abuse Act funds at least) and Levin, and our rallying cries to our donors, one thing kept coming up.
"You know this is just a game, right? It's political gamesmanship. It's an election year. Nobody is really going to cut our child victims of crimes out of the budget this year--but they will use them to get other earmarks they want."
I know this is likely. I know it has been proposed before (by Bush, so let's not get too self righteous, friends), and there were no cuts. But I also know that if we lost all of our funds from these two sources, that would mean eliminating our counseling and our victim advocacy and limiting our forensic interviews. It would mean hacking out a third of our budget. It's too big of a risk to take.
So I spent most of Tuesday formulating all of our responses and rallying everyone I know. Every other email on the NCA listserv has been updates on who signed on and who didn't. We've had conversations about face-to-face meetings with our representative and whether it is more likely that our senators will read a letter or an email. We've also talked about whether we should combine the issues into one email or leave them separate and just send two responses to each person. We should have been spending that time on our kids. On raising new money. On making new donor contacts. On completing paperwork from another interview with a child who had been sexually abused. But instead we spent hours on this--and have continued to spend hours more--because we can't take the risk that this is just gamesmanship.
Ridiculous. Appalling. Quit using our kids as pawns in a game that they don't care about. They just want help. They want the bad guys to be locked up. They want to sleep safely at night. They want their nightmares to go away. They want to laugh and play like children should.
If you want to help, please do the following:
* Send your representative a letter asking him or her to sign the House Dear Colleague letter sponsored by Rep. Danny Davis (D-7th) of IL to fund the Victims of Child Abuse Act at $20 million for FY13.
* Send your senators a letter asking them to sign the Dear Colleague letter sponsored by Sen. Kerry (MA-D) and Sen. Baucus (MT-D) in support of funding the Victims of Child Abuse Act at $20 million for FY13.
* Send your representative and senators a letter asking them NOT to use money for victims of crime as a revenue base for its FY13 budget by asking for a $1 billion VOCA cap in FY13. Because the Crime Victims Fund comes entirely from criminal fines and other penalties—not taxpayer dollars—this cap DOES NOT ADD to the national debt or deficit.
{Thanks you for your time, and steps down from soap box.}
An email came across my desk at work last week. It noted $20 million in funds for the Victims of Child Abuse Act that had been excluded from the FY13 budget as proposed by President Obama. For the first time since 1994, there was to be no funding for the National Children's Alliance, which means a cut in program support for every accredited children's advocacy center in the country (including the Children's Assessment Center, which is my day job) and virtually no funds allocated for emerging centers in counties where they don't yet exist. Then, on Monday evening, another email came through. This one stated that the FY13 budget further proposes to reallocate $365 million in funds from the Victims of Crime Act, which would mean cuts to--and possible elimination of--services for crime victims all across the country. In Kent County alone that means a number of cuts to children: victim witness programs, domestic violence shelters, and the Center's counseling and victim advocacy services. The real kicker is that the funds are paid through criminal fines and penalties and don't affect the size of the federal budget at all. It is proposed that they will be used to pay for other line items in the budget outside of true crime victim services.
As we talked about it internally and formulated our response, our pleas to Representative Amash and Senators Stabenow (who has signed on to save the Victims of Child Abuse Act funds at least) and Levin, and our rallying cries to our donors, one thing kept coming up.
"You know this is just a game, right? It's political gamesmanship. It's an election year. Nobody is really going to cut our child victims of crimes out of the budget this year--but they will use them to get other earmarks they want."
I know this is likely. I know it has been proposed before (by Bush, so let's not get too self righteous, friends), and there were no cuts. But I also know that if we lost all of our funds from these two sources, that would mean eliminating our counseling and our victim advocacy and limiting our forensic interviews. It would mean hacking out a third of our budget. It's too big of a risk to take.
So I spent most of Tuesday formulating all of our responses and rallying everyone I know. Every other email on the NCA listserv has been updates on who signed on and who didn't. We've had conversations about face-to-face meetings with our representative and whether it is more likely that our senators will read a letter or an email. We've also talked about whether we should combine the issues into one email or leave them separate and just send two responses to each person. We should have been spending that time on our kids. On raising new money. On making new donor contacts. On completing paperwork from another interview with a child who had been sexually abused. But instead we spent hours on this--and have continued to spend hours more--because we can't take the risk that this is just gamesmanship.
Ridiculous. Appalling. Quit using our kids as pawns in a game that they don't care about. They just want help. They want the bad guys to be locked up. They want to sleep safely at night. They want their nightmares to go away. They want to laugh and play like children should.
If you want to help, please do the following:
* Send your representative a letter asking him or her to sign the House Dear Colleague letter sponsored by Rep. Danny Davis (D-7th) of IL to fund the Victims of Child Abuse Act at $20 million for FY13.
* Send your senators a letter asking them to sign the Dear Colleague letter sponsored by Sen. Kerry (MA-D) and Sen. Baucus (MT-D) in support of funding the Victims of Child Abuse Act at $20 million for FY13.
* Send your representative and senators a letter asking them NOT to use money for victims of crime as a revenue base for its FY13 budget by asking for a $1 billion VOCA cap in FY13. Because the Crime Victims Fund comes entirely from criminal fines and other penalties—not taxpayer dollars—this cap DOES NOT ADD to the national debt or deficit.
{Thanks you for your time, and steps down from soap box.}
Monday, March 12, 2012
The Eleventh Sabbath
{NOTE: I once listened to this song on the radio as I drove through a lightning storm in the otherwise pitch black night. As the flashes of lightning shocked my eyes every time it flashed, I realized that was like catching a glimpse of God's glory. To have seen His entire glory would have been to be blinded by His power.}
I caught a glimpse of Your splendor"Show Me Your Glory," Mark D. Lee, Samuel Tai Anderson, Bradley B. C. Avery, David Carr, Johnny Mac Powell, Marc Byrd
In the corner of my eye
The most beautiful thing I've ever seen
And it was like a flash of lightning
Reflected off the sky
And I know I'll never be the same
Show me Your glory
Send down Your presence
I want to see Your face
Show me Your glory
Majesty shines about You
I can't go on without You, Lord
When I climb down the mountain
And get back to my life
I won't settle for ordinary things
I'm gonna follow You forever
And for all of my days
I won't rest 'til I see You again
Show me Your glory
Show me Your glory
I can't live without You
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