Faithful and True

One year ago my sister-in-law, Samantha, gave us the sweetest gift by inviting us to share in her new beginning. She and Chris were baptized and married right on our back patio! ❤

Recently, she sent several of us the following message. I asked her for permission to share because it feels criminal to keep all this beauty and grace under wraps. This "Happy Anniversary" is filled with bright hope and beautiful glimpses of ordinary-made-holy. Our redeemer is faithful and true.

. . .

This past year has been a struggle for most of the world, but for me, it's been the best year of my life. God saw me and delivered me. During 2020 I've lived "my best life" with God's grace, mercy, love and blessings.

Literally overnight, God changed my life. I was an empty shell; homeless, hopeless, an I.V. drug addict who was resigned to my fate one day. But the next day, Chris found me, loved me despite our past, and Jesus showed me my future. I have never looked back. I have not even wanted to look back. 

I am married to the kind of man my Daddy was - not perfect, a little rough around the edges but at the end of the day, a good man whom I can trust to do right by me, no matter the cost to him. Chris loves me the way I need to be loved, without him even knowing that's the way he loves me. I became a mother, grandmother, sister and daughter again as well.

I've been clean one year. That alone, for this addict of 20 years, is a miracle. That was just the beginning of what Jesus had in store for me. I am redeemed through Jesus Christ. I am blessed within every aspect of my life. I am humbled more, every day by His love for me.
 -Samantha

2 Peter 3:9 The Lord isn’t slow about keeping his promises, as some people think he is. In fact, God is patient, because he wants everyone to turn from sin and no one to be lost. 

Advent 2020: PEACE

The perfect gift? These shortened days that stack up with food and friends and family ... these holy-days set apart for "celebration" so often stir up pain and unrest.

Why is THIS the season for misunderstandings,  loneliness, frustrations, heart-breaking memories, happy memories drearied by missing loved ones, or the angst of coordinating plans with people in our past who require perpetual forgiveness?

It is not all twinkle bells and jingle swells ... sometimes it is cry yourself to sleep on a cold December eve. No amount of intentionality or prayerful perspective can fully shield us, because life is hard and unpredictable. 

The solution is not the false peace of isolation, and it's not the pacification offered in the numbing noise of multi-media. 

The answer is Jesus. He came to reveal the Truth and show us the Way that is far better.

Like being brave and humble and kind as we offer honesty. 

Like being selfless and encouraging as we offer help. 

And being patient as we receive each person [who is potentially privately hurting] right where they are today. Chances are: they are doing the best they can.

His life given for ours makes it possible for us to change the world. "Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."

Follow Jesus as your love and presence offer the perfect gift - a steady step toward peace on earth.

Advent 2020: HOPE

When it is too hard to get your hopes up, find rest and let HOPE come down.

Matthew 1:20 "But while he thought on these things, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a dream, saying, Joseph, thou son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife; for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost." 

"But while he thought on these things..." Sometimes you just have to mull stuff over. When life doesn't go the way you assumed it might. When facts are confusing and gut-feelings can't be calmed. When you are in a period of "thinking on things", "BEHOLD"! Look out! Take Heart! God can show up. 

And this is the message He speaks...

I know you.

I know your name. 

I know where you come from.

Don't be afraid.

I know what's on your mind.

Do not be afraid.

I am working in this situation.

I'm in it and through it and over it:)

Then you step out in fresh hope to faithfully watch the Truth unfold.

Not Home Yet

My freshman year of college, I was two thousand miles from home and could only manage one mid-year flight home at Christmas. So for Thanksgiving I was on my own. I had a stellar group of friends who all pledged their hospitality, but the invitation that caught my attention was from a fellow voice major who said his family had plans to visit his grandmother. He had mentioned before that his grandmother lived in the tiny town where my dad was a pastor the year I started kindergarten. Something about being in a familiar place appealed to my fragile feelings and solitary status.  

My mom was so relieved to hear of my plans to spend Thanksgiving Day with new friends and a kind family. I explained what I knew of the connection to our town and shared the name of my friend’s grandmother. She recalled, “Oh, yes. I remember her. She lived in a big house just outside of town. She was wonderful and sweet.” 

Thanksgiving Day we exited the interstate and traveled the bumpy miles down the turnpike, and then onto the county road into the heart of the sleepy downtown. We passed the church with the golden beehive brickwork and memories flooded my thoughts. Lingering at the stop sign, my friend patiently smiled as I verbally waded through the stream of excited observations. “That’s the door to my dad’s office! Oh, my gosh, my brother and I would sit under that awning and wait on him. I think that’s the fellowship hall over there … oh man, that courtyard. I remember!” 

What a gift to step into a snapshot from my childhood. We turned left and then left again a block later. Everything seemed familiar but barely recognizable. “I’m pretty sure we lived on one of these streets … like just a block or two from the church,” I said.  We pulled up to park along the curb of a yellow brick house with a carport and small concrete porch. “Are we here? I thought your Grandmother lived west of town,” I said confused.  “Oh, yeah. She used to. But after Grandpa died, she traded deeds with the church, so that the big house outside of town is the parsonage, and she lives here now where she is close to everything.” 

Was I walking up “my” front sidewalk to join cheerful strangers for casseroles and pie? 

I noticed the built-in storage above the carport. Nostalgic hopes and nagging uncertainties compelled me to get a closer look. “You wanna look inside? It’s cool.” My friend unlatched the door to the stairs. 

We crawled onto the squeaky loft, and pulled the chain to the single lightbulb hanging from the rafters. There, on one of the beams, were faded markings with names and dates. 

About four feet up the wall, a notch was labeled: “Cari – 1976". 

This was my house. 

Can you believe how sweet our Heavenly Father is? On my first holiday away from home, He worked it out for me to return to a bit of home. 

I love Him for a thousand reasons, but today I love Him for loving me that way – because it was an unexpected gift of faithfulness then, and it has served as a gift of expectant faith every day since then. 

He will never leave us alone, and His love cannot fail.

Grace Out of Bounds

I was that girl being horrifyingly stupid and unwise. I lived against my calling. I chose self. I turned my face toward the temptations … searching for affection, affirmation and fun. I trampled the boundaries, and grace found me.

It was a supernaturally protective favor that somehow spared me a good deal of chaos along with the natural consequences of my choices. It was a quiet exchange, and only a few folks were aware of the huge amount of forgiveness and healing my decisions required. Sadly, the whole, holy transaction was secretly and stubbornly held in denial for years.

For decades, my quest for good veered foolishly toward neat and tidy. And in this merciless existence, everyone in my life suffered for it.

There is a way to live more fully.

Our quest for good turns out to be a cumbersome,  grievous-at-times grace discovery - a daily journey in which we acknowledge the mercies falling fresh, and allow grace to fill us - to gently overflow as we speak truth and shine light for the lost. Because God is writing the same story in their lives too, they may one day confess, “I trampled the boundaries, and grace found me.”

It can be a supernaturally provisional favor that somehow restores order and compensates for the natural consequences of our choices. It can be a bold ruckus where many people are aware of the huge amount of forgiveness and healing our decisions require. And if we are brave enough to battle against our yearning for neat and tidy, the whole, holy transaction will be beautifully undeniable for years.

God has established righteous boundaries. Fear him and obey.

God extends his boundless grace moment by moment. Look for it. Live in it. Obey him and do not be afraid.

Faith For The Journey

I am rounding a bend, begging God to speak to me, to show me where to stand and when to move.

I believe with my whole heart that he can reveal Himself, so I watch for a burning bush, I listen for audible guidance, I wait for the mountains to move.

But He seems stationary and still, as if to be slowly and silently blinking back while I stare into His presence.

All I can discern is a directive rhythm. A faint cadence to follow: Keep stepping. Keep seeking. Keep surrendering. 

Courage and calling combust deep in my soul until the daunting seems doable. I can see Him.

Scriptural lyrics stream through my mind - gently carving a curvy path for my heart to follow. I can hear Him.

Little by little, step by step, around this bend and that, I keep following until the mountains that had towered before me now lay low behind me.

Faith. The kind that moves mountains. That is what He wants to grow inside of me. And you.

Keep stepping. Keep seeking. Keep surrendering. He's got this.

Hindsight

What was your word for this year? I hit the ground RUNNING in 2020 ... heralding "hope" in Jesus. 🙄

He was my "rock", my "firm foundation", my "all in all!" 👍

Except that - evidently - I was wrong. Sadly, mid-March I fell very much apart, and it was not because Jesus shifted his focus or diminished his influence. 

What crumbled beneath me were my predictable plans, my assumptions about control and convenience, and my intentionally established boundaries. All of that imploded, and . . . wait for it . . . then did I.

This is the sin that covid has exposed. My lip service to a sustaining faith in Christ alone has been put to the test and I have been left wanting. In all practicality my hope and faith had been firmly planted upon my own schemes and schedules. 

And that's not the worst of it. Had Corona not ambushed us all in the way that it did, it is possible that I could have lived foolishly blind to my own entrapment for YEARS. I shudder at the thought.

It is August Eve Eve, and the humiliation of oblivion and failure is slowly being replaced with willful humility. 

Jesus sustains me as I sketch my plans lightly, committing to anticipate and receive the unexpected. 

God provides for me as I relinquish my desire for control and rebuke my idolatry toward convenience. 

Spirit helps me look for healthy boundaries in order to increase my freedom to show love, not decrease my opportunity to do so. 

And I leave the rest to rest. 🙏

Every quarter hour, I seem to falter in my mind, and I have to re-engage my heart to trust the Lord. 

"On Christ the solid rock I [try to not try so hard to] stand. 🙌

All other ground is sinking sand." ☑

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭13:12‬ ‭ 

"Hallelujah! I have found Him

Whom my soul so long has craved!

Jesus satisfies my longings,

Through His blood I now am saved."

For Your Eyes Only

For months I’ve been bothered by my thinning eyelashes. Every time I swipe up with mascara, I am convinced more lashes have fallen out. I wonder if they have somehow relocated to the lower chin region, but frustration accompanies every stare into the mirror, nonetheless.

Anyway, a couple weeks ago, after hearing my shrinking-lash lament, my friend gifted me some growth serum for my birthday. With gratitude and determined hope, I have applied the clear liquid every night before bed.

Now, 15 days later, when I look in the mirror, my lashes look thicker! I gently scroll the mascara up across what seem to be lengthy, lush lashes. I blink three times and gaze again. Yep! I can definitely see a difference.

I fully realize there is zero percent chance that any perceivable change has occurred.

But I’m looking for evidence of growth, and I swear I can see it. Before, I was looking for evidence of thinning and I promise I could see it.

Whatever we are looking for, I believe we will find it.
When I am looking for offense, I will surely pick up on it. When I look for the best in people, I will graciously discover it. When I watch for disappointment, I see it clearly. When I scan my landscape for fulfillment, I faithfully find it.

If I focus on my shortcomings, those limitations begin to define me. If I consistently do the things, and believe growth is happening, before I realize it, I am confidently stepping into that flourishing identity.

Momentarily

That early morning phone call disturbed the peace I thought was mine. It was a Friday in spring in 1995 when I was 23. My dad had suffered a "fatal cardiac event", and first responders were unsuccessful in their attempts to bring him back.

My world was muted in stunned silence while tremors of sadness and insecurity roared and vibrated uncontrollably at my core.

Through belief in God and faith in his plans, I was able to rebound and redirect, but Dad's death changed the way I lived. I was so grateful for the brightness and fullness with which my dad lived, and yet his sudden departure seemed to cloud my joy and hollow my hope.

No matter the complexities of my motivations, I like to think I've lived my adult life with intentional diligence, not taking anything for granted.

With grace, and also to a fault, I've spoken the truth. Likewise, with grace, and also to a  fault, I've opted to withhold it. But I've never lost consciousness that our days are vaporous and moments are fleeting.

One Friday morning this past spring, a mid-morning phone call disrupted the easy-going day I thought was mine. My co-worker had suffered a "fatal cardiac event", but first responders  successfully resuscitated him after several minutes had passed.

My day was paused as frenzied concern and critical priorities forced actions to fast-forward and caused thoughts to rewind.

I sat in the waiting room with his daughter in her twenties and pondered the parallels ... realizing it was only in those dreadful few moments of heart attack and cardiopulmonary resuscitation that our stories were similar. I never got another word with my dad, and she had already been back with hers to exchange several words and a few hugs. Their story was different. But the same.

I am 47 - the age my dad was when he died. This timely juxtaposition is not easily dismissed.
I consider fatal cardiac events, and I contemplate the resuscitation of heart and lungs.
Revival.

Over the past six months, I've watched as my co-worker - through wise choices and skilled therapy - has been rehabilitated and restored to an even better life than before. His body is strong and healthy. His mind is miraculously unharmed. His spirit is beautifully reformed with a humbly bold approach to his work and relationships.

For years I've lived as if the next breath were my last.
Perpetually processing the potential of  passing away.

Today I choose to live as though this breath is my first.
Recently resurrected.
Revived once again.

I want more than to merely survive another blip in the linear advance. I want to live renewed - thriving in breaths of purpose and rhythms of praise. Hopeful and unafraid that life is mist. Determined that the riches of wisdom won't be missed.

For these last 23 years I have lived with a sense that my time was borrowed ... burdened by the notion that things are uncertain, circumstances can change in an instant, and death is just around the corner. More fear than faith, honestly.

As I begin my third set of 23 years, I choose life: resurrection and abundance ... realizing things on earth are still uncertain, circumstances still change in an instant, but death is in the past. Less fear, more faith. Honestly.

Galatians 2:20 - "I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me."

Parched or Pretty

 A meditation on Jeremiah 17.

Thus says the Lord:
“Cursed is the man who trusts in man
and makes flesh his strength...

Hopeless is the woman...
... who demands her own way for happiness.
... who must rely upon her own comfort for peace.
... who depends upon the approval of others for her validation.
... who strives in her own energy to accomplish her goals and succeed.

 ... whose heart turns away from the Lord.

Doomed is she ...
... whose heart turns away from the Lord.
... whose mind is distracted by self-centered negativity.
... whose body is weary from restless busyness.
... whose soul searches for satisfaction apart from God.

He is like a shrub in the desert,
and shall not see any good come.

Her life is brittle and rigid,
rough and dry,
stiff, abrasive and empty.
She will bear no fruit.

 He shall dwell in the parched places of the wilderness, in an uninhabited salt land.

She'll continue to abide and seek sustenance from sources that ultimately cannot provide.
In futility, she'll give everything she has to a lifestyle that will render her
withered, waterless, and alone.

Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord,
whose trust is the Lord.

Happy is the woman...
... who denies herself to find joy.
... who relies upon her Heavenly Father for peace and comfort.
... who depends upon the truth of her adoption in Christ for her validation.
... who treasures her weaknesses - knowing God will accomplish His goals in His strength.

He is like a tree planted by water,
that sends out its roots by the stream ...

Her life is supple and secure,
resiliently grounded,
sensitive, sweet and strong,
refreshingly pleasant.
. 
She'll continue to abide and seek sustenance from the One True Source of Life.

... and does not fear when heat comes ...

Even when the trials come, she doesn't worry.
When pain lingers,
and problems persist,
she is not ruined - she finds courage and hope.

...  for its leaves remain green,

For His Life flows through her.
She abides in Him. And He abides in Her.
His Word dwells richly within her and she keeps in step with His Spirit.

... and is not anxious in the year of drought,

So she has nothing to fear. No worries.
She puts no faith in circumstances.
She is patient and does not grow weary.

... for it does not cease to bear fruit.”
With passionate purpose, she'll give everything she has
to this beautifully sacrificial life that will render her
fertile, flourishing and fruitful.