Memorial Day weekend

Had a great weekend with Brad at the cabin. Just the two of us. Hiking, relaxing, reading, talking, laughing... sharing bread, wine, and Jesus with Buddhist neighbors, listening to Jesus and the creek, sitting by the fire, learning to be grateful, and letting the joy come. More pictures here...

Shaddie the Player

"So...Nattie. You free tonight?"

ENTER THE WARDROBE

http://adisney.go.com/disneypictures/narnia/index.html

Fallen on My Feet.

Yesterday was a great day. I spent it with my daughter Sarah. We rode bikes all day. We went to the downtown library, thrift shops, and sat on the edge of a fountain on the downtown mall eating fresh mangos with lime and chilè. Nice.

When we were in the library, something on one of the shelves caught her eye (it turned out to be a biography of C.S. Lewis) and she squealed (as only she can) and clutched my arm. "Mama!" she said. "Ohmygosh!" And tears sprang to her bright blue eyes. "What is it?" I asked her.

"THELIONTHEWITCHANDTHEWARDROBE!" It all came out like one big word, and she was laughing excitedly. "They're making a movie, Mama!"

And then she was four years old again, telling me how every night she and her sister Aimee would be in their beds, giggling and clutching their stuffed animals, waiting for me to come to them, to read the next chapter of their beloved book. "I loved that, Mama. It was like magic to us. I remember it so well."

After that, riding along on our bikes, Sarie happily following, I remembered too. My mind drifted back to those days. They were hard. Really hard. I was a single mom, working full time and always tired. Nights were busy with laundry and making lunches and getting clothes ready for the next day, and trying to stay strong and brave though there was not enough money, my girls were growing up without a father, and I was living in a spiritual wasteland, longing for the water of life but clueless how to find it. Somehow my daughters still have good, safe, memories of those dark days.

In the first chapter of the book, Peter says, "We've fallen on our feet and no mistake." As for me, I feel as though I've landed on my feet as well, with lots of mistakes. God was with us in that time, and holding us, though I was not living in obedience to Him. I was taking my children through a dark and scary forest, not knowing what was around any turn, but God accompanied us. He spoke to our spirits. He protected us. He honored prayers uttered long before.

God has kept me safe in the arms of His love and grace. And though I know my children will make their own mistakes, I know God will hold them, too. They, like me, will then fall to their knees in their own hearts, on this slow, painful, beautiful, frightening, wondrous journey to healing through Jesus.

In December, my kids and I will sit in a dark theater, eyes wide with wonder as the world of Narnia is huge before us. I will love it. I will remember. I will thank God for placing me on my feet.

You're dirty, yo!

You're dirty, yo!

Thinking about trust today... I was already thinking about it when I read Tony’s post for today with the very nice ‘T’ theme title (and the ‘C’ words as well… note I am overusing ellipses just like Tony…). I have been reading about trusting God and not trusting your brother. I don’t like those verses in scripture. I understand not ‘putting your trust in’ someone, because that sounds like your whole foundation, but what about trusting your brother to walk across that foundation with you?

In chapter 9 of the book of Jeremiah he says:

They bent their tongues like their bows;
lies and not faithfulness prevail in the land,
for they proceed from one evil to another,
and they do not take Me into account.

This is the Lord's declaration.

Everyone has to be on guard against his friend.
Don't trust any brother,
for every brother will certainly deceive,
and every friend spread slander.

Each one betrays his friend;
no one tells the truth.
They have taught their tongues to speak lies;
they wear themselves out doing wrong.

You live in a world of deception.
In their deception they refuse to know Me.

This is the Lord's declaration.

Therefore, this is what the Lord of Hosts says:
I am about to refine them and test them,
for what else can I do
because of My dear people?

Okay I get the part about refining and testing. That’s great. But ‘do not trust any brother’ is hard to hear. If someone has been hurt in the area of trust they want to find it somewhere. With skin on. It feels as though it is imperative, or else the step out of the barricade is just too scary. I don’t know. I truly hate to quote cheesy song lyrics but maybe I am looking for love in all the wrong places. But then I suppose I am equating love with trust. Don’t we need one for the other to survive?

I spread out my hands

This morning I started out in Psalms, and became intrigued--fixated even--on one phrase. Psalm 143:6...

I spread out my hands to you;
my soul thirsts for you like a parched land.

This seems a powerful picture to me. Standing before my God, my soul cracked and battered down like hard and dry soil, arms extended, reaching like a child for my Father.... hoping for the rain of His love to fall upon me and quench me, bring me back to life.

I did a search, keyed in 'I spread out my hands' and this is what came up:

Ezr 9:5 At the evening offering, I got up from my humiliation, with my tunic and robe torn. Then I fell on my knees and spread out my hands to the Lord my God.

Ps 88:9 - My eyes are worn out from crying.
Lord, I cry out to You all day long;
I spread out my hands to You.

Ps 143:6 - spread out my hands to You;
I am like parched land before You.

Isa 65:2 - spread out My hands all day long
to a rebellious people
who walk in the wrong path,
following their own thoughts.

Ro 10:21 - But to Israel he says: All day long I have spread out My hands to a disobedient and defiant people.

The first few passages speak of our thirst and hunger for God, arms spread as if to beckon the Father, to reach for Him. The next are from God, His arms stretched wide to draw in His beloved, calling them to Himself. And of course Jesus--His arms spread wide to hold the sins of the world and save it--me, you--by His love.

And it is all balm to my soul. I close my eyes and drink it in. A powerful picture of love is before me. A Father and His children, arms reaching in love for one another. Jesus completing the circle. I stay there a while and it is good.

In Him and only Him I put my trust. I reach out for Him and never find emptiness or weapons of deceit that wound--but always truth, faithful instruction, understanding, wisdom, and love that speaks to the deepest place in me.

Today I have spread out my hands and my Father has pulled me into Him.

For the full story on this picture check out 'More of JamieMarie's photos' in the sidebar...

i am anakin skywalker

i am anakin skywalker, not physically, but you know what i mean. i had intended to write this blog shortly after exiting the theater after seeing episode 3, but i soon realized that this would have to be lengthier than i had originally intended since there are people like jamie barker who have no real knowledge of star wars and would therefore be lost with my blog. so, jaime, and other non-informed, a little synopsis for you.... anakin skywalker was a child, a slave child, who was taken in by the good guys to be trained in their ways, along the way, he encountered "feelings" which were not ok for the teaching he was being given, along comes the bad guy who decides that he is better use to him on the dark side, so he spends a lot of time and energy turning anakin to him, i know this is not evident in the movies but it is the truth, so, eventually anakin does turn to the dark side, and he is powerful, but along the way he loses "himself" becomes darth vader, he is no longer anakin, his reign of terror spans a long time, until, luke skywalker, the blond one in the movie with han solo, jaime. comes along and learns that darth vader was once anakin skywalker, he the end, luke tells him, there is still good in you, please father help me, and in a very dramatic scene, darth vader turns on the emperor and saves luke, luke removes the mask that hides anakin and looks upon his father in his last moments of life. very moving. ok, now that you hopefully get the jist of what my original blog was to be about, let me say, i am anakin skywalker, i was taken as a child, adopted into a family who loved the light side, yet in the midst of all of that i was taken and brought up in the ways of the dark side, i became someone other than myself, wore a mask if you will, i became very powerful, yet i wasn't myself, i met a man along the way, keith martens, who simply said to me there is good in you, that was all it took, i fought my way away from the dark side sometimes it felt as if i would die trying, but there was still good in me, and over time i have tapped into that good, and moved farther and farther away from the dark side. many days i look back and remember the power that the darkness brought, but i tell myself, was it really power or just a shadow caused by the light around me? i can't say that i loved the new star wars, but it brought to my mind how easily feelings can turn one to the darkness, and how there is always someone on the dark side ready to tell us exactly what we want to hear to keep us there, sometimes the lighter side is so busy fighting the force of the darkness that they let individuals slip by undetected, even those so close to them, to the dark. i pray that i will not be so caught up in "being light" that i miss someone i loves descent into darkness, because then why even be light? what is the point if that happens? i came back from a really dark place, and i hope that i can keep others from ever going there. that's it, all i wanted to say.

prayer to the God of my life

I just finished a book of essays from people who were influenced by Henri Nouwen.... or rather by Jesus in Henri Nouwen. Inspiring and humbling, it is. (I'm talking like Yoda now, just for fun...)

One section was written by a woman named Kelly Monroe, founder of the Harvard Veritas Schmeritas Blah Blah Blah Forum. I liked how she said that she is beginning to realize that 'our vantage point is as limited as if we were looking at the starry night sky through a plastic straw.' Here are some quesions she asks... I have been trying to ask them of myself:

To which projects are we called in this life, and do they draw us to or away from the heart of Jesus?

How can we really see and hear God and each other above the enemy's voices?

How can we excel at expressing our faith through love?

How can we artfully and sacrificially love when given the privilege?

What could possibly be more important?

What if I ask Jesus to heal and refuel me, to fill me with Himself, so that I am not too exhausted to really love another person?

The Word became flesh and dwelled among us. How did I turn Him back into words again?

Why do I let the abstract and the "urgent" so exhaust me, destroying the concrete and immediate good before me?

Why do I listen to the loud and various voices of the world, rather than the still, small voice of the Holy Spirit?

Is Jesus bigger than my mistakes? Can His will for my life include tragedy and loss?

And then this about the writing of Henri Nouwen:

Henri reminds us to breathe. His books tell me that joy and sorrow are the parents of spiritual growth. He says not to be destroyed by despair, but to trust that a good God has allowed this to happen and is not surprised by what has happened. The God who created the galaxies is bigger than the mistakes of His children--bigger than what I have done and what I have left undone, bigger than my losses and sorrows and dreams.

Forgiving yourself, and others, is possible only when you soak in the Father's love. Slow down and really look at Jesus. Look, listen, be faithful in the little things and live with a glad and cheerful heart.

In this season I have been leaving lots of room in my days and schedule for God to speak to my heart. I have much to learn, and He is patiently teaching me. He is causing me to be more quiet-- to listen instead of always talking talking talking. He shows me little movies in my head of moments long forgotten, hurts I covered up years ago and sorrows I refused to feel for fear of too much pain. And then He holds and loves me through the memories. My loving Father knows my hurts. As Henri Nouwen says, "open wounds stink and do not heal." God wants to hold me through the healing, then encourage me to go on, filled with His love that enables me to love others. I know so little, can see only the tiniest view of His beauty and wonder and all He has in store. He calls to me, in the power and majesty of His creation, as Shannon reminded us yesterday, and also tenderly, in my own heart, with infinite love and compassion. No wonder we love Him so.

Deep calls to deep
in the roar of your waterfalls;
all your waves and breakers
have swept over me.

By day the Lord directs his love,
at night His song is with me...
a prayer to the God of my life. --Psalm 42

Words and Wordsworth from Shannon Roark

I woke up today with a poem in my head. I wake up quite often with a song, or scripture, or even movie lines, it is rare for a poem to greet me in the morning. It was William Wordsworth's "The world is too much with us". Read it if you can find it. It's interesting that this would come into my head, or push itself to the front of my head. I have been thinking about creation and about how it testifies of God's glory and workmanship. As I think about camp, I am thinking about how I want campers to be out in nature so it can speak of the God who created it. I had been thinking of the scriptures that declare that all of creation testifies, about how the rocks and the trees will cry out with praise if I don't. I say let's allow creation to testify to us of God, not that we would look to nature instead of God. I do not propose nature worship, but rather allow nature to remind us of who it is we worship. Wordsworth is pretty serious about nature. He is right, the world is too much with us. He is right we ought to listen to the movement of the wind and appreciate what is around us. It is painful to him, the thought of ignoring all that is found there. It is painful to me, the thought of ignoring the one who made it.

--Shannon

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn

So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

--Wordsworth

It Will Grow Back

Okay we've all been there. Your friend gets this really bad haircut, I mean it's really bad--and you can tell they like it, and think they look really good. You don't shoot them down and tell them it looks bad, do you? Well do you? NO. You just smile and tell yourself it will grow back.

Um..... yeah. Shaddie got a haircut for the summer. And the thing is, he doesn't know it makes his head look gargantuan. And his tail...good grief his tail. I believe Mel described it as looking as though it came from another animal entirely. Maybe even another species.

But Shaddie is happy, and cool--not cool like hip, trust me on this one--and there is a new spring in his step, and a gleam in his eye. Just look at that expression on his face. He couldn't wait for me to take his picture. So I will thank you to keep your comments either to yourself or at least out of his earshot, because a dog's self image is everything. And besides, it will grow back.

I did not see this movie last night. I mean this morning. Too bad.

A couple of years ago my daughter Emily came home from school, heartbroken because some of her girlfriends had become involved in Wicca. They were talking about chants and potions and spells, and nothing Emily told them could change their minds. To these girls Wicca was excitement, power, magic.

Emily and I began praying for those girls, and not long after that God led my friend Katharine and me to start 'Girls Only', a ministry to those girls and others of the same age (middle school). We addressed not only witchcraft but other issues as well. We taught these girls they were wonderfully made, that their bodies were gifts from God, and that if they were looking for mystery and adventure God was calling to them and could provide all of that and more. They signed covenants to keep themselves pure. Some who were as young as 12 years old prayed with me in private, because they had lost their virginity already to family members and neighborhood boys who then tossed them aside. It was a rich season of ministry and those young women still tell me of the impact those days had on them.

Debbie came to Girls Only and shared some of her experiences with these girls. She did a beautiful job. She led us all in asking Jesus to deliver some of the girls from what they had exposed themselves to. Several girls came up to me later, finally confessing that they, too, had involved themselves in Wicca. I am so grateful to Debbie for her wisdom and willingness.

I am telling you all of this because the other day I was listening to KCIV and heard an interview with a man who has studied Wicca and its effects on our young people. You can listen to it here. This radio show reports that Wicca is the fasted growing religion in our country. If it continues to increase at this rate, by next decade Wicca will be the third largest religion in the United States.

Many of you who read this blog work with young people. Please ask the Holy Spirit to alert you when you are in relationship with a young person who is feeling the pull. Our young girls are especially susceptible. The media promotes witchcraft with movies, books and TV shows that make it appear powerful, sexy, and fun. If you are a young girl who is feeling anything but powerful because of how you have been abused, and not 'sexy' as our culture demands of you, even at a very young age, and are looking for adventure and an escape from your life, the allure is almost irresistible.

My prayer is that God will use us to expose the lies the enemy puts out there in his attempt to steal the souls of our young ones. This fall, Irisa (my live-in staffer at Dakota House) and I are starting up Girls Only again. We hope to build a core group with the girls we take to Outpost at Calvin Crest this summer. We are starting younger now--not at middle school but in 5th and 6th grade. I am excited to once again look into their beautiful young faces, and to have the privilege of sharing with them that they are wonderfully made, and that God has wholeness, joy, freedom, and much love in store for them.

Another quote. Annie. Dillard not Lamott.

"Why did our Sunday school teachers spread that scandalous doctrine--the Bible--before our eyes? If they had read it, I thought, they would have hidden it. They didn't recognize the vivid danger that we would, through repeated exposure, catch a case of its wild opposition to their world."

--Annie Dillard

Quote for the Day

Sometimes I see humanity as a sea of people starving for affection, tenderness, care, love, acceptance, forgiveness, and gentleness. Everyone seems to cry: "Please love me." The cry becomes louder and the response so inaudible that people kill each other and themselves in despair.

--Henri Nouwen

And sometimes I think that this is not only true, but also accounts for most everything everybody does. And it makes me very sad. And very hopeful. Because Jesus offers us all of those things.

I am sorry if I caused you to stumble...

WARNING! THIS IS AN UNPAID COMMERCIAL ANNOUNCEMENT: Next week at our fellowship, Time & Space, we will be having a Strawberry Eatalong. You are most certainly invited. BUT you must bring a something done to the strawberry that causes us to smile and say, "...if this is this good, imagine Heaven." 6:00p at Sierra Vista Church, Oakhurst. Take Hwy 41 and turn left at the SierraVista sign before you get into Oakhurst. We worship first then we eat. I will keep it short (that reminds me... shortbread and strawberries are good).

It was so good to see Jamie and Brad stop by on their way home from Yosemite.

I am in the mood for strawberry pie

Brad and I are going hiking in Yosemite today. Yesssssss.

The Moose Has Landed

A new backpacking tent is a beautiful thing, especially when it is delivered to your door from Moosejaw and the label says, "Sealed With A Kiss.'

For George

The Internet Movie Script Database contains links to free viewable/readable/downloadable/laughable/awesome movie scripts. George, this link is for you.

Free?

Words from a song I like...
"It didn't come cheap but I got it for free, the hope of Glory, Christ in me."

MONK

Yes, I like the show Monk. He taught me something last night. As you may or may not know, Monk only drinks Sierra Springs bottled water. No other water will do. He would rather get the point of extreme thirst then drink any other water. Well, he found himself lost in the woods with two of his friends and of couse the friends find water and are down on all fours slurping up some water from this stream. Monk won't have anything to do with it. It's not Sierra Springs water. The others are getting their fill and are quite satisfied and still Monk stands there thirsty, weak and living a lie. This lie, that only Sierra Springs water is drinkable could kill him. In the mean time, all around him is celebration of the new found stream and the wonderful water. Monk stands still. Thirsty. He could die.
His friends convince him that the stream is the water source for Sierra Springs! His friends have to hold him to keep him from getting dirty as they lean him over to slurp up some water. And then Monk says it, "It is Sierra Springs!" And with the biggest smile ever, water rolling down his chin he says, "And it's freeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!"
Oh yes I was reminded of a few things of my past as I was looking at that smile on Monk's face. Yes, standing next to the very thing that would give me life. 21 years of saying that I only drink of the world. Friends telling me, inviting me, pleading with me...drink, George, drink! No, I only drink of the world. Until one day, Larry Palmer helped me, lead me, held me as I leaned over and took my first drink of the water of the Holy Spirit. "IT IS LIFE, AND IT'S FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

One thing

Just one thing after reading that great blog of Jamie's about marriages...
A few years back I started to notice a very interesting thing going on. I would hear a wife say to me what a wonderful husband she had. I thought how nice it was to hear all about this guy.
I also noticed that it was not too long after that, they were devorced. It would break my heart. This event happened over and over again. I would come home from church or school and tell Cindy, "So and so's marriage is on the rocks." She would ask me how I knew that and I would tell her, "The wife was telling me all about what a wonderful husband she had."
I am still mystified by the whole thing.
That's all.
One thing.

Warrior's Creed

Last night as our family sat down to dinner Brad read the following to us:

This was written by a missionary in Africa hours before being executed for his faith in Jesus Christ:

"I am a part of the fellowship of the unashamed. I have Holy Spirit Power. The die has been cast. I have stepped over the line. The decision has been made. I am a disciple of His. I won't look back, let up, slow down, back away or be still.

My past is redeemed. My present makes sense. My future is secure. I'm finished and done with low living, sight walking, small planning, smooth knees, colourless dreams, tamed visions, mundane talking, cheap living.

I noe longer need pre-eminence, postion, promotions, or popularity. I don't have to be recognized, praised, regarded, or rewarded. I now live by faith, lean on His presence, walk by patience, lift by prayer, labour by power.

My face is set. My gait is fast. My mission is clear. My goal is Heaven. My road narrow. My way rough. My companions few. My guide reliable. I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away. turned back, deluded or delayed.

With God's help I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of the adversary, negotiate at the table of the enemy, ponder at the pool of popularity or meander in the maze of mediocrity.

I won't give up, shut up, let up until I have stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up, preached up for the cause of Christ.

I am a disciple of Jesus. I must go till He comes, give till I drop, work till He stops me, preach till all know. And when he comes He will have no problem recognizing me."

where the wild things are

when i was little, i used to love going to the library, i would devour books like they were the finest of chocolates! my mom would let me get as many as i could carry and she did this every week. i am forever grateful that she did! i remember reading where the wild things are as a child. my mother hated that book and tried to discourage me from ever checking it out, but i loved it. i was so fascinated by the fact that max could take a boat to a far away place and be truly bad. i didn't know all of the things that were happening in my life, but i always felt as if i went somewhere and was truly bad, but then i could come home and be normal again. in my mind i would tell myself that i was just taking a midnight boat ride and getting out my true feelings where i wouldn't hurt anyone, but i also was aware that the monsters i was cavorting with seemed so much bigger and meaner than i. i clung to that book, to the fact that other people seemed to write about going somewhere else, that they didn't care if it sounded weird. i escaped through books, through imagination, through thoughts, it was a saving grace in my life, as while terrible things were being done to me, i could picture myself stronger, able to do marvelous things, and almost having super powers, like the ability to not let tears roll down my face at the wrong time, i know now how much being able to picture myself far away from the situation saved my life, time and time again. i used to hate the fact that my mind worked that way, i used to be ashamed, but now i embrace it and am grateful to god that my mind did work that way. so no matter how much my mother hated that book about beasts and wild things, i will always remember it and smile

No clauses. No compromises.

A woman I know and love used to say that she and her husband had the George Clooney Clause in their marriage contract. Meaning that if George Clooney ever showed up and asked this woman out, she could go, and do whatever she wanted to with him, and it would be permissable--according to the precepts of the clause. It was just a joke, of course.

Last week I received this from a female acquaintenance who is a 'Christian' and loves her husband, to whom she has been married many years. Decades, even. It is just a joke, of course.

Here's the thing. I am having a little trouble, here. I like to joke around as much as nearly anyone. Okay maybe more than nearly anyone. But something doesn't feel right. A friend of mine told me that his son said to him (I am paraphrasing) "Dad, I see a lot of Christian marriages around me and I know the man is supposed to be the spiritual leader, but I don't see much of that going on."

I don't have any answers, but here are some things I do know:

--My friend has a beauty salon, mostly frequented by married church-going women. A huge percentage of the talk in that shop is about the ineptness of the men they are married to and the desire these women have for their men to be more than they are. And they speak of the doubt they have of it ever happening. Because they are men, after all, so what can you expect of them?

--The woman with the George Clooney Clause in her marriage contract watched her husband walk out the door after having an affair with a woman who--at least for a little while--told him he was all the man she'd ever need.

--The woman who sent me the obnoxious cartoon? Well I happen to have been around her husband several times when he smelled an awful lot like an awful lot of alcohol.

Okay...whoa. Am I saying that one woman drove her husband to infidelity and the other drove hers 'to drink'? No. I'm not assigning blame. And I know very little and I don't even believe it is ever that simple. But I am taking a hard look at the way we do marriage, because I have a lot to learn in that area and I am trying to learn it. I don't want any clauses in my marriage contract and I do not want to compromise the beauty and order of what God has established as the marriage relationship. But I am full of questions.

I believe in the command from God for men to lead their families and for women to support, follow, and encourage them in that. This is a new concept for me, actually, and having been in relational situations of both extremes in the past, I understand God's ordination and have even lived through what happens when it is not subscribed to. It doesn't work and damage is done to everyone involved.

The thing is...I'm wondering if there is enough instruction out there for this to happen with much success. Or enough example. Is it out there and I have just missed it? Please tell me. The women who come in the beauty shop and speak in such degrading ways of their husbands? Let me tell you something... some of them are leaders in churches. Youth pastors, directors of women's ministries, wives of elders and of worship leaders. This is frightening to me.

And as my brain has been wrapping itself around this topic the last day or two, God has reminded me of some of the things that have come out of my own mouth, thank you very much. The 'men are clueless' sort of statements that come so easily to my lips and flow out like bitter poison, seeping into the minds and hearts of my daughters, and--God forgive me--my son and husband.

So I'm not sure what I am asking for here.... except your feedback, and prayers, and patience with my ramblings... and perhaps a moment of self-reflection. Okay, ouch.... I heard that Jesus... okay, I can say it: ACCOUNTABILITY. I don't want to make those 'funny' deragatory remarks anymore, and I will need the help of those whom God has put around me. And, um...that would be YOU.

We all know the James 3 verse... the tongue is a weapon and all that. Lord knows I've had it quoted to me on more than one occasion. There is power in our spoken words. God has entrusted us with that, you know? Don't ask me why but He has. I pray that I can act responsibly, wisely, compassionately, honoring God and all the wise, strong, capable, spiritually led men and boys in my life. And to all of you whom I love and fall into that category, I confess I have wronged you and ask you to forgive me. And call me on it. And still love me.

Happy Mother's Day to me

Yesterday Brad worked very very hard and now we have sprinklers in our back yard and hardly any trenches at all. We have Rainbirds that make the loveliest sound.

After dinner Nate, Emily, Izzy and I walked to the store and bought Mexican popsicles. We had a grand time together.

Last night Carlton stopped by on his 'hog' and was glowing from a biker church service he attended. An answer to his prayers. Nice.

This morning I got up early, and quietly, and crept upstairs to the bathtub, book in hand. I stayed in there a long time. I read this:

'If we hear, in our inner ear, a voice saying we are failures, we are losers, we will never amount to anything, this is the voice of Satan trying to convince the bride that the groom does not love her. This is not the voice of God. God woos us with kindness, He changes our character with the passion of His love.'

Right now I am drinking Starbucks coffee that Luke brought to us, and Brad is in the kitchen making latke (potato pancakes).

This morning Nate and Emily are coming to church with us, and this evening I will be with my older daughters, too.

God is changing my character by loving me so much.

Two in one day

Cindy and I went to two weddings in one day. One was in Oakhurst and the other was in Fresno, they both started at 4 PM.
So, we really went to one wedding, Simon's in Oakhurst and then headed back to Fresno for Kelly's reception.
What I noticed/learned/found out at Simon's wedding:
Cindy and I are getting older
Simon is a great guy
Scott did a great job
Bill's hip is killing him
Candles can be hard to light sometimes
Guitar and flutes sound sooooooo nice
Chuck is a great guy
Sam is NOT in over her head
Shannon looked great. Why doesn't she get dressed up like that during her lunch duty at FCS?
Jordo was as happy as ever
Natasha has the best smile
Tony was having a GREAT time
It was a beautiful day
What I noticed/learned/found out at Kelly's wedding reception:
It was fun going to Simon's wedding and then going to Kelly's reception - first time event for me
I wanted to talk about what a great wedding Simon had, but no one at the reception was at Simon's wedding
Cindy and I are getting older
Copper River Country Club is NICE
There must be something else in that punch
I like the chocolate fountain to dip cream puffs in
I was very proud of my former students and what they were doing with their lives
Renee teaches 8th grade
Dancing is fun
Wedding cake with chocolate chips in it is my favorite
Kelly looked great - her husband Neil is a great guy!
I like both weddings and receptions
I like chocolate

the dark is generous

The dark is generous.
It's first gift is concealment: out true faces lie in the dark beneath our skins, our true hearts remain shadowed deeper still. But the greatest concealment lies not in protecting our secret truths, but in hiding from us the truths of others.
The dark protects us from what we dare not know.
It's second gift is comforting illusion: the ease of gentle dreams in night's embrace, the beauty that imagination brings to what would repel in day's harsh light. But the greatest of its comforts is the illusion that the dark is temporary: that every night brings a new day. Because it is the day that is temporary.
Day is the illusion.
It's third gift is the light itself: as days are defined by the nights that divide them, as stars are defined by the infinite black through which they wheel, the dark itself embraces the light, and brings forth from the center of its own self.
The dark is generous, and it is patient.
It is the dark that seeds cruelty into justice, that drips contempt into compassion, that poisons love with grains of doubt.
The dark can be patient, because the slightest drop of rain will cause those seeds to sprout.
The rain will come, and the seeds will sprout, for the dark is the soil in which they grow, and it is the clouds above them, and it waits behind the star that gives them light.
The dark's patience is infinite.
Eventually, even stars burn out.
The brightest light casts the darkest shadow.

Ok, not as upbeat and stuff as some of the quotes we have on here, but this is in the book I started last night, and it spoke to me, mostly, it made me understand that the devil is patient, but God is even more patient. I have often struggled with christians who believe in God, yet never acknowledge that a devil exsists. I ask myself, then why believe in God? To me understanding why the devil attacks me, makes me understand God's love and compassion for me. I may have to remove this blog after I think about it a few hours, sometimes I just think I am way too far out there. And I know that it isn't a very positive blog, but it helped me, in a weird way. So, for now, I will publish it, in an hour it may be gone. Oh, this book isn't a christian book or even by a christian author, you will have to ask me to find out which book it is.

Thank you Bryan, Mel, and Jesus.

All this is rhetoric about loving you.
I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through;
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.

Peace, reassurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin;
I talk of love--a scholar's parrot may talk Greek--
But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.
--C.S. Lewis

The problem is not out there; the problem is the needy beast of a thing that lives within my chest.

--Donald Miller
'Blue Like Jazz'

Okay so I started this book today, and it's already got my brain doing flops like a kid with a fever convulsion (Nate had one of those once and the visual has never left me) .

I just finished Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott, and as it happens Donald Miller has been likened to 'Anne Lamott with testosterone'... it's funny how God provides these mental and spiritual excursions by way of 'coincidence.' Cosby had mentioned the book a while ago, and I sort of filed it away somewhere in that dusty and dishevelled filing cabinet of my brain, and then while at Mel's last weekend I spotted it on a shelf, and she let me borrow it. Mel--I'm afraid I will have to purchase you a new copy, as this one has already put in some bathtub time, which is always precarious for an unsuspecting paperback.... and of course I have already folded over pages that I want to mark... and by the way please don't unfold any of the same in the book I loaned you... you will see those passages again someday--on the blog, at the beginning of a chapter I someday write, misquoted out of my mouth...etc.

Thank you Bryan and Mel. And thank you Jesus for making people like Anne Lamott and C.S. Lewis and Donald Miller, who are able to write words that reveal truth, sting a little, okay a lot, and cause me to take a reluctant look, perhaps with one eye closed, inside my own burgeoning, blundering, burning heart.

the light from a guitar

many questions arose from my reference to the light coming from the guitar. so, i figured, i would try to explain that. knowing that i will probably sound like a complete psycho i ask for your grace in my attempt to clarify it. i have since a very young age been blessed/cursed (however you see it)with being able to "see" spiritual things. i don't enjoy it very much because sometimes it is distracting to normal everyday life stuff. yet, sometimes it comes in handy, like when my kids try to lie,i usually get the heads up, this drives them crazy and they wonder how i do that, in fact you should read the mothers day cards that tynin wrote to me in school, it says "my mom always knows when something is wrong or i am sick, even when i tell her i am not". but anyways, back to the subject...there are times, most prayer times usually when i will notice a certain "glow" around a person, it used to freak me out, i thought they were about to burst into flames. then i noticed that sometimes when people use the gift of tongues, it sounds like screaming to me, and it also doesn't sound like gibberish, it sounds like normal english. other times, i see a "light" radiate from peoples eyes and as paige says, "that's jesus looking at me." and then there is the guitar, sometimes, especially when i can't hear the sound coming out of it, i will notice that there is a light pouring from it, and it will "ground" me and i will focus all of my attention onto that light and it will get me through a hard memory, or it will give me courage to let go of a spirit, it will keep me on task, and let me know that i am not alone, because most times in a memory, i don't know that i am in a house, i cannot see any faces that are familiar, i only know touch and the things i can feel, like a blanket or pillow, doesn't feel like dirt or a box, so i can somehow tell myself that i not actually there. same thing with the light, i can't see the guitar for the most part, i can't see who is playing the guitar, i can't hear the guitar, but i can see the light pouring from it, and i know that jesus is there with me. ok, i know, pretty out there, but that is the only explanation i have to offer, take it or leave it. but next week i will be looking for the light to bring me back to you.

No, Shannon...that's NOT a Quaker hat Shaddie's wearing.

shaddie
Those of you who know my dog Shaddie will join me in commiserating as his life is in shambles: he is depressed, wet, hungry, disgraced and emasculated.

Yesterday he had 'the procedure' and life has gone to the dogs ever since. It has barely stopped raining, and Shaddie heartily dislikes rain. He is in pain, what with having his testicles removed and all, he can't eat very well because I don't know if you noticed but HE HAS A BIG PLASTIC THING ON HIS HEAD. So to top it all off, he is humiliated by his appearance.

Mel, for the love of God, DO NOT bring Nattie here on Tuesday. Shaddie would positively die of mortification.

But most of all HOPE

Yesterday we had a birthday party at Dakota House, for this little girl on the left: Alexandria. That is her name though most people call her 'Monkey.' I don't call her that. She told me once, quietly, secretly, that she doesn't really like that name, but even her mother calls her that. "It's because I look like a monkey," she said in a whisper.

Alexandria's mother has stomach cancer, and her father is nowhere to be found. Things in her home are a bit rocky, and it seemed there was no one in sound enough condition to give her a birthday party. So we threw one at Dakota House, complete with streamers everywhere, a big fat cake, sodas, and a huge bowl of Flaming Hot Cheetos and Goldfish crackers.

There were about 23 kids at the party. Above are pictures of only two of them. We know so little about what goes on in their homes, but what we know breaks our hearts. Continuously.

Yesterday was a grand time for the kids, and I stood there on that patio with a whirlpool of emotions within me: gratitude, sorrow, joy, sadness.... but most of all: hope. Because Jesus has given all these kids another chance. And me too. And that right there is reason to celebrate.

Being with you...

I wanted to write and tell you that I like being with you. Collectively, I have probably spent less than 10 hours with you but there is an eternity that we seem to draw on when we are together. New acqaintances become eternal friends. We seem to have the same heart, His. We have the same past, redeemed. We have the same goal, to love and be loved.

Thanks for letting me come home every once in a while....

feels like family to me

i found myself in a place last night,
a place i didn't really want to be in.
but, a place i had to go.
it was dark and scary,
and there were so many wrong things taking place.
really wrong.
a sense of dread overcame me.
where was i?
my "father" was there,
inflicting all kinds of horrors upon me.
my "parents" were not there,
a child alone.
yet, a short time later,
my vision cleared,
my eyes focused,
i was now in a place of beauty,
a place of calm
a place of light
the music was like being surrounded by
healing hands
the faces i saw
my dad
my sisters
my brothers
my family
they were there
they came to me
with help
with love
with compassion
without fear
without doubt
without hesitation
god knew what he was doing
it was dark and scary
but coming out into that
the joy returned
the calmness
the familiarity of family
the taste of popcorn
the feel of an embrace
the sound of a child laughing
the way the light looked as it poured forth from the guitar
i always dreamed of a happy family
and this feels like family to me

Shield of Faith

"And take up the shield of faith so that you may be able to extinguish the fiery darts of the evil one".(memory paraphrase!)

There are times when we are too weak to hold up that shield. We've all been there. So last night, during the intensity, I had this picture of a person kneeling down who was unable to hold up the shield. All of us, however, were positioned around the person, deflecting with our shields the volley of arrows that were continually coming from the enemy. This gave Jesus the space He needed to come and do His thing. I loved this mental picture...a new way of looking at the Body.

Walking in the Calling

"Mostly dead."

Today's verse--Ephesians 4:2-7--is great, but they (the people at the site that provides this daily verse) for some reason left off the first sentence of that passage. And it's the one that really hit me. The first sentence is this:

"I, therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, urge you to walk worthy of the calling you have received..."

That is powerful to me.

Paul is in prison, and he is beseeching his readers. Beseeching them to what? Get him out of there? Pray for him? Bring him books and cheese and Jambas? No. These are the things I would beg of my friends were I to be locked up in jail, I guarantee you that.

Paul implores them--us--to walk in accordance with the glory and the gospel and the gifts which have been bestowed upon us by Jesus, through His death and sacrifice and resurrection....showered upon us in love and by the miracle of grace.

I have to ask myself if I do that--if I walk in that calling. I can tell you that perhaps I occasionally stumble into that walk, my toes just lightly tapping upon that path ever so briefly... but mostly NO. Which I think--to quote Billy Crystal in 'The Princess Bride'--is like being 'mostly dead.'

Last night in our home we were all privileged to be part of a wondrous moment--the miracle of God bringing beauty to what was intended for evil: lovers of Jesus coming together to pray, stand in unity, trust, listen, praise, laugh, cry, and believe in what God is doing. He is doing more than we know and even the fraction we comprehend is astounding.

Thank you Jesus for allowing me to be part of a prayer family that does indeed bear with one another in love, and is of one spirit, called to one hope under one God. Help me to walk in that which I have been called, and thank you that you never stop calling. Thank you for continuously holding us all with incomprehensible, unending love.

Two More Reasons Life Is Good

1. I got my new library card yesterday.

2. The downtown library is an 11 minute bike ride from my house.

Sweeeeeet.

He told me it had been found

At Church on Saturday night over at Carlton's, I sat with a teacher friend and his wife. My friend teaches at Fresno State in the science department. He told me that this summer he and his wife were going to Turkey. I asked him to please find Noah's Ark while he was there on vacation. He told me, "It has already been found."
Who found it...Ron Wyatt.
I checked out Ron's site and read what I could. I even watched a few minutes of a 20/20 program about the finding of Noah's Ark. Interesting, insightful, maybe even possible.

Final Answer

I have come to this conclusion and will say that this is my final answer: Jealousy is the worst thing going.

45 minutes

Tonight, Monday, Luke and I went out for our weekly dinner. We went to Chipotle'. We sat outside, near Palm. I had a vegie bowl and Luke had a chicken burrito with extra sour cream. They POURED on the extra sour cream.
We talked about books we were reading, the orgin of sin, the characteristics of angels, heaven, hell, and college classes. It was a great time. 45 minutes. Luke told me about his college classes, people in his classes, teachers, learning, tests, taking millions of pages of notes, study groups. I laughed a lot. Tears rolling down my cheeks. Was anyone else out there eating too? I didn't notice. We laughed together. Father and son, man to man. I laughed deep, deep into my soul. I felt the deepest part me laugh. It was just 45 minutes with my son but in my heart it will last a life time.

This is the book that is making it difficult for me to get any work done...

Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott

"Looking back on the [Catholic] God my friend believed in, he seems a little erratic...God as borderline personality. It was like believing in the guy who ran the dime store, sometimes with a kind face but who was always running behind and had already heard every one of your lame excuses a dozen times before--why you didn't have a receipt, why you hadn't noticed the product's flaw before you bought it. This God could be loving and reassuring one minute, sure that you had potential, and then fiercely disappointed the next, noticing every little mistake and just in general what a fraud you really were."

"More than anything else, [drugs] gave me the feeling that I was fine and life was good and something sacred shimmered at its edges."

"My coming to faith did not start with a leap but rather a series of staggers from what seemed like one safe place to another. Like lily pads, round and green, these places summoned and then held me up while I grew. Each prepared me for the next leaf on which I would land, and in this way I moved across the swamp of doubt and fear."

And here in dust and dirt, O here,
the lilies of His love appear
--George Herbert

See what I mean?

"This looks like church to me."

This morning I am not going to church, because I had such good church last night I don't want to risk ruining it.

It was a party, actually. My best friend's husband has been out of prison for 10 years, and those of us who love him gathered to celebrate. There was food, and worship, and the opportunity for all of us to get up and talk about what Jesus has done, in the life of this man we love, and also in our lives, by way of being in the body together. And loving one another.

At some point, my beautiful friend shouted out in that voice I know so well: "This looks like church to me!"

Me too.