I LIKE NAME TAGS

But now, this is what the LORD says -- he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. - Isaiah 43:1

For years, I have had this fascination for name tags. The allure is not what's stuck on the clothing or hanging around the neck, but with who's wearing the tag. I mean if you have to wear the thing, who are you, after all? There may be a face to the name, but the point of the tag is to connect, right?

Although the name tag connection has generally diminished for people, my allure teeters on illusion. Oh, people still connect to the sticky backs at formal functions, but have you gone into a random store, market, fast-food joint or hardware place lately? Did the person in front of you (of course, not you!) either look up from what he or she was doing or (gulp!) stop his or her cell phone conversation long enough to say, "Hello, so-and-so! How are you?"

When the art of connection makes the simplest of communication complicated, it is then we have lost our ability to truly connect. A simple "Hello, so-and-so!" coupled with a smile demands no monthly fee or service contract. It shows, in life, we care and that we aim to live a balanced, Christ-like existence in an imbalanced, self-absorbed world.

As Christ followers, we know what it means to be known by name. How else can our Father redeem us, to "make something acceptable or pleasant in spite of its negative qualities or aspects?" My name may be Doris, but to Him, I am loved and accepted when He speaks my name.

Yeah, I still like name tags and making those random connections. But now with a bit of thought, connection can be made with a smile and Christ's redemption at the core because you cared enough to say, "Hello, so-and-so! How are you?"

EVER WONDER...A POEM

To commemorate the 10th Anniversary of 9/11, I give you this poem originally written to my boss, Janey, as a source of comfort for the loss of her mother. Though she did not suffer loss at the hands of this atrocity, we all wonder why. Remember...
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Ever wonder why dandelions are a delight to a child, but a nuisance to a gardener?
Or why Winter is too cold for some and to the earth is a time of peaceful ponder?
Ever wonder why a creative soul can find anything on a messy desk
But to a “neat nick,” it’s chaos waiting to happen and there’s no time for rest?
And then ever wonder why the good ones die young with vibrancy to spare
And the curmudgeon hangs on to complain and gripe with dreams that go nowhere?

Well, I may not know the right answers to the simple or complex
And I may not understand the times and the roles that play out next.
All I know is that life has purpose in itself and God’s plans may appear tough
And though it’s never quite understood right not, it will be soon enough.
Winters come, yet Spring arrives to lessen the heavy load
And dandelions will grow amidst the blooms of wonders untold.

And if you ever wonder why stuff seems to happen and pain appears
Just know the wonder is in the delight of life – its joy, its laughs, its tears.
And if you ever wonder why chaos has a way of ruling out in the end
Just know there’s a time and place and order to embrace this pain we’re in.
The answers are not only blowing in the wind as the songwriter once confessed
But our lives are a beauty to behold and just leave God to wonder about the rest.

WEEDS: A MODERN-DAY PARABLE

I had a notion this summer to plant a vegetable garden. Now before you gardening aficionados pass out from the photo, here me out. Remember, I’m no green thumb, but a modern-day parable emerged from that experience.

 

Set with honorable intentions, I was determined to produce something good from the ground. And just plain tired of the high cost of this, that and the other, I wanted my family to reap the benefits of fresh, healthy, and yes, inexpensive vegetables. I bought the seeds (10 packets of various varieties). I read the instructions (thoroughly). I prepared the ground (okay, my husband turned over the soil, but I made the mounds and poked the holes!). I planted the seeds…all by myself!

 

Quite proud of my accomplishment, I didn’t factor in what may have been obvious to the trained gardener…WEEDS! I know a dandelion when I see one, but there were just as many varieties of weeds as were the seeds I planted. My initial thought could have been, “Give up. There are too many of them out there and I can’t tell the difference between a radish leaf and ragweed!”

 

Honestly, I couldn’t tell the difference, but a deeper nourishment was growing in my resolve. I got excited when I uncovered cucumbers sprouting under prickly leaves and stalks. I enjoyed a wonderful long-distance connection with my mom after picking turnip greens (I had to get her secret on how to cook them to tender perfection). And I proudly shared my beautiful, leafy lettuce mix with my boss and co-workers who reaped the benefits.

 

I didn’t much care for the weeds, but they taught me to appreciate what good still remains in a fallen world. It’s true. From major metropolises to small-town Americana, our own borders are overgrown with domestic violence, drug trafficking, murders, rapes, pornography and every variety of sin you can imagine. But sprouting amid the weeds are caring souls making a difference in the gardens where they’ve been planted. They’re uncovering the potential growing amongst life’s thistles. They’re rejoicing over the U-turns of the last, the least, the lost. They’re proudly sharing their faith, their hope, their testimony with any and every one willing to listen.

 

Listen to what Jesus says about the Parable of the Weeds found in Matthew 13:24-30a…

 

“The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away. When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared. The owner’s servants came to him and said, ‘Sir, didn’t you sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?’ ‘An enemy did this,’ he replied. The servants asked him, ‘Do you want us to go and pull them up?’ ‘No,’ he answered, ‘because while you are pulling the weeds, you may root up the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest’.”

 

You see, it’s easier to say, “I give up!” because quite frankly, garden variety weeds are a nuisance. But in the harvest field designed by the Creator of the universe, things that grow and thrive alongside modern-day weeds are beautiful!

 

 

Full Embrace

1. What are some “weeds” you have personally encountered lately?
2. What seeds (i.e., gifts, talents, abilities) do you believe God has planted in you?
3. Name 2-3 specific instances where you have been a nourishment to someone?

 

An Encouraging Word – Dear Lord, We thank You for the gift of Your Holy Spirit planted firm within our hearts. May we be a nourishment to those we encounter. And when the sins of the world sprout up attempting to choke life from the harvest You’ve planted, remind us to always choose to produce good fruit which satisfies a hungry soul. AMEN.

 

ONE WISH...PROVISION (HATTIE'S STORY)

She loved him but hated where his life took them. The man she promised to love, honor and obey back in 1958 and the father of her children had caused fissures in their covenant. Early on, minor infractions escalated to power struggles which stemmed from issues with gambling, alcoholism, infidelity and domestic violence. Hattie wished life were different, but on those nights her husband would come home drunk and broke, wishes didn’t stop the fights nor the 3 a.m. police calls.

Her only saving grace from the constant anguish came from her nightly scripture readings, “Our Daily Bread” devotions and prayer time. No matter how late or how tired or even how aggravating the power struggles got, she never missed spending time with God. She believed God beyond her pain. She trusted God beyond her despair. Her prayer: ”make Your provision known to my children,” lightened her burden until the next time she could meet up with God again.

God heard and answered that prayer in the parking lot of the local racetrack. Friday was payday. For Hattie that meant grocery shopping. If her husband came home in a good mood, all would be fine. This week was a crap shoot because he had mumbled earlier about playing a tip at the horse races. Normally, she made do on what she stockpiled in the freezer, but this week’s list included much-needed staple items. “Lord, we need your provision!”

The buzzing sound of the VW Bug engine puttered up the driveway. Hattie drew a deep breath and without a second thought, sent one of her daughters outside to run interference. “Dad, we need to go to the grocery store,” his daughter chimed in before the clutch idled into first gear. He seemed none too happy about the proposition, but within minutes, the family loaded into the tiny orb and headed for the grocery store.



From a human standpoint, I can’t say it ended with everyone happily joining hands around the dinner table thanking God for the meal. Hattie’s husband had a tip on a horse that day. After the grocery store, they ended up waiting in the VW bug, but Hattie opened up a pack of wieners and buns and prayed over that meal. “Thank You God for providing for my children. Amen.”
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EMBRACING GOD'S TRUTH & PROMISES

John 6:48 - Yes, I am the bread of life!" (NLT)

Psalm 37:25 - "Once I was young, and now I am old. Yet I have never seen the godly abandoned or their children begging for bread." (NLT)

Psalm 119:116, 117 - "Lord, sustain me as you promised, that I may live? Do not let my hope be crushed. Sustain me, and I will be rescued; then I will meditate continually on your decrees." (NLT)

Isaiah 41:10 - "So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." (NIV)

ROLLER COASTER RIDE

Life can be a series of roller coaster rides. Whether the highs are chocolate induced or the lows hormone related, we girls know what it means to strap in for life’s twists and turns screeching our way faster than the speed of sound. So what kind of roller coaster are you on today? Right now, I’m gyrating between Phantom’s Revenge, The Beast and The Vortex. One minute, I’m sorting socks; the next, I’m ranting and raving over whether to hire a demolition squad for my child’s room. “He’s a boy. He’s 10. Get over it!” I hear echoing from the abyss. And my plummeting scream responds, “But, I don’t want to! This isn’t a room; it’s a bad lab experiment waiting to happen! AIEEEEE!!!”

Believe me; I could give you a blow-by-blow report of what I’ve been experiencing lately. But as I laugh at mishaps and cry over misunderstandings, I must remind myself of a few things. First, I’m not in this alone. I know Jesus encouraged his disciples to go out into the world and preach the gospel. But when I hear, “I’ll be with you as you do this, day after day after day, right up to the end of the age” (Matthew 26:20 – The Message), the world of parenting, marriage and friendships is my mission field. God is with me through the tunnels of confusion, the turns of discomfort, the heights of elation and even the depths of despair.

Thoughtful question – Who or what is riding with you in your roller coaster?

Next, there is joy in the ride. I must admit, I don’t know about this one sometimes. The bills are due and the payments are late. The day is jam-packed and time and patience are threadbare. Stress has taken over my last nerve and joy is held hostage. Can you feel what I’m saying? Circumstances should never define our joy. Our joy is found in God; our circumstances get to reap its benefits. I mused when I read from Habakkuk. “Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, YET [emphasis here] I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior” (3:17, 18). Sounds like the makings of an old Country and Western song doesn’t it? Yee-haa!!

Thoughtful question - Are you making a point to enjoy life even when life isn’t so joyful?

Finally, all rides have an end. Trust me on this one. Will the pain of hardships ever end? Will the sorrow of loneliness ever cease? Will the plague of fears ever subside? Yes, my dear sisters, they will, but here me on this. As long as we’re on this earth, we will be exposed to its pitfalls and pratfalls. Jesus had to remind his disciples to take courage in spite of inevitable struggles. “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). It is in Christ we have peace not perfection. He simply gives us hope to cope!

Thoughtful question - Are you finding God’s peace in the ride?

ADD TO THE MIX

You would think I never cook. It’s more complicated than that. Given a cookbook or someone’s favorite recipe, I’m great in the kitchen. The issue is not how to cook, but what to cook. I’ll eat anything except tomatoes, okra and liver. My husband has a handful of standards and our son claims he won’t touch peas and onions.

With the rest of the food groups at my disposal, I honestly never learned the fine art of meal planning. Try as I must, I end up kicking myself in the proverbial keister around dinnertime. Why? Because I’m missing a crucial ingredient from the menu: DINNER! Thank You, Lord for grace and a sense of humor. My family doesn’t go banging at the neighbor’s asking for a frozen entrée nor do they go lining up at the local soup kitchen. I’m not that inept. They understand my predicament and when the mood hits me, they’re willing to be eager participants to whatever fancy creation I concoct in my galley. And I can always win their hearts with my prize-winning standby: Dinner Cakes (that’s pancakes for dinner with a side of turkey bacon)!

Oh, don’t think me pathetic; I’m just being honest about my situation. I don’t know what to cook. Is this a plea for help? Yep, you bet! But before you throw recipes my way, let me explain my pickle. My husband hates cheese, but he loves leftovers. I love cheese, yet I have a 2-day tolerance level for leftovers. Next, we are such a busy family that I have no time to plan dinner, let alone a nap! Okay, don’t pull out the violins just yet. Finally, growing up, I was more occupied with Foghorn Leghorn than I was with having him as a main dish. Talk about the makings of an Everything Stew!

Over the years, I’ve asked for cooking tips and recipes. I’ve even feasted on a heavy dose of humble pie when I’ve had these discussions with friends. Now I pose the question to you. What are some of your favorite, quick-and-easy family meals that don’t require much long-term planning, cheese, liver or okra? I’d be more than happy to add them to the mix if they pass the approval of my family’s taste buds!

HAPPY LABOR DAY

Okay, I'll make this quick. Certainly not everyone will benefit from the extended weekend. Cashiers, wait staff, amusement park employees, I'm sure aren't too happy about the holiday we call Labor Day. Instead of Labor Day, why not call it "I've-got-to-work-a-few-hours-because-you-forgot-ice" day or "you-get-off-but-not-me" day? And even in the hustle and bustle of the one holiday that dictates wearing white pants and shoes as a fashion faux pas after its passing, there is rest for the weary. It's found in knowing Jesus as our Lord and Savior.

If you're unable to take the day off, I pray that you're able to find some time to reflect and rejuvenate. If it means a 10-minute power nap or a 24-hour hiatus from the daily grind, reflect on God's goodness and rest in His truth. You might not be able to join in on a sanctioned day with the rest of us, but I pray you can be satisfied with whatever God brings your way!

To one and all - HAPPY LABOR DAY!

PACKED TIGHTER THAN A CAN OF SARDINES

Word on the street: budget cuts to state-funded programs. That was the summer buzz at work as our parents; teachers and employees followed the newspapers and awaited the decision from our program directors. Although most of the classroom staff was away for the summer break, the tension from us year-round employees was felt from every regional office. Worst-case scenarios played out in offices over each news update and interoffice email. When the initial bargaining unit date was moved to accommodate the changes in open-arena job bidding, stress and speculation ran rampant. At last count, potentially-lost jobs mounted pending governmental passage of a workable state budget. Adding to the scenario was how this would impact classroom openings, which certainly meant children and families without Head Start-provided services.

Oh yeah, the tensions, like the tides, were high! And during those weeks, I sensed from God a non-participatory role in the ensuing chaos. In fact, when possible “bumping” strategies were tossed around like a shuffled deck of cards, my only response to, “got any jobs?” was “No. Go fish!” I felt no worry. I experienced no fretting. And I made no deals. I knew God was in control and no amount of jockeying for position would change the final outcome. Was it “deal or no deal” to the escalating pandemonium? No deal!

Well, Friday the 28th marked the big day – arena bidding. In systematic order, two groups of classified employees were placed in separate rooms to await the outcome of those without positions. Once open job roles were filled, each group waited to “bump” an employee for a better position. Bumping, for those that don’t know, is just a fancy-schmancy term used for taking a position already filled by a less-senior employee.

For hours we were packed in those two conference rooms tighter than a can of sardines. The only spot available to sit was in a corner where they housed the electronic room dividers. It wasn’t much, but it was the roost on which I perched my belongings. I truly didn’t want to be there because of the assurance I felt from God, but it was strongly recommended that everyone attend. As the afternoon wore on, I had my own contingencies in place. Water bottle filled with ice? Check. Short stack of newspaper comics to read? Check. An unedited article to finish? Check. A stash of Christian women’s magazines to peruse? Check. I was ready.

Well, there were long pauses between job assignments. And the longer the pauses, the shorter the air supply. Almost two hours slowly dragged and I had developed a massive headache. You would think it was from the poorly-circulated air not flowing through the room. I knew better. I felt the spirits of fear and doubt manifesting themselves throughout disparaging sidebar conversations. Their presence was thick as fellow employees’ tempers mounted with each anticipated, passing minute. I walked out the room a couple of times just to breathe and pray. But once I re-entered the room, those spirits greeted me at the door.

I went back to my corner of the room to wait as well. However, when I sat down, I heard these words: “I am in control. There is peace here.” All righty then! “Peace. I have a headache from all this and I need aspirin!” Lo and behold, the woman sitting next to me had a bottle of Ibuprofen and within ten minutes, I was sleeping peacefully in my corner.

This story could drag on as long as my poor colleagues endured every angst-filled emotion those filthy spirits could dish out, but the purpose in the telling is quite simple. That Friday, God was in control throughout more than six hours of negotiations. Most of my colleagues fared well despite the stress they experienced. Some took a furlough package contingent upon state budget reconsideration. Some with mid-level seniority shuffled from one classroom to another. And a few with lower-level seniority found themselves surprised with a position where their colleagues, with much more service time, did not. All in all, the message was clear. When God is in control, there is peace in the peril, calm in the chaos and safety in the sanity. And like a mighty oak planted along the edge of a rapidly-moving current and its branches outstretched over the river’s raging waterfall, God continues to provide corners for His people in which to rest. In that room we may have been packed tighter than a can of sardines, but in heart and mind, we didn’t have to stay that way. Remember, Go Fish? Got any peace? Why yes, I do! And the picture on the card is Jesus!

CAR RIDE COMMANDMENTS

Again, my child amazes me. On a family car ride the other day, he posed a rather odd question. "If you were president, what ten commandments would you create to change the world?" My husband and I were about to rattle off the obvious ten when he said, "oh, and you can't use the ones in the Bible." We each took our turn, but not without giving a great deal of thought to our selection.

We all have our opinions on how to change the world. One just has to read the newspaper to formulate attitudes and viewpoints. We grow numb to the senseless stories that fill the headlines and the pages from the local news. We wonder to ourselves, "why aren't people getting it?" But as God's people, we are given the heart and mind of Christ to want to obey God's commands. "This is the convenant I will make with the house of Israel after that time, declares the Lord. I will put my laws in their minds and write them on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people" (Hebrews 8:10). Encouraging words to those who get it; hopeful words for those who don't.

Okay, I admit we came up with some silly commandments during that car ride, but by the end of the ten, the responses became a bit more thought provoking. I'm still holding out for world peace, ends to prejudice and homelessness and yes, shorter work weeks for everyone. I'm not sure about the last one, but hey, there's no shame in dreaming. How about you? What world-changing car ride commandments have you dreamed up lately? Are you living them out in your life as you do with the ten God's given to us all? If so, great, because you are in the ride of your life!

THE CONSISTENT PARENT TEACHES

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. - 2 Corinthians 2:9


Who wants to be perfect? Not me, but in my home (and I'm sure like yours) I have a son who believes he is. He allows no room for grace when he messes up. Piano lessons are a chore. Baseball practice is useless. Why? Because that would require admitting he doesn't know it all. My heart breaks for him as I hear the exasperated moans and grunts after hitting a G7 chord and it sounds more like a cat caught in a wine press. First year of little league found him proud of his place on an undefeated team. Year three. Well, let's just say he was ready to quit half way through the season as they loss game after game. For him, not being perfect is not an option. He becomes his own worst critic and imperfection is a sign of self-critical weakness.


As concerned parents, we are left with only one solution - consistency. When we hear the frustration behind the "I can't do this!," we have to remind our children time and time again in loving ways that they aren't perfect. We don't allow them to give up. We teach them how to press forward. They may not get things right the first, second, third or 20th time around, but life is full of wonderful lessons surrounding our imperfections and weaknesses.


What a beautiful picture of God's lessons for us. We all fall short, but we don't stay down for long. We will never be perfect, but we will always have a Father who forgives our sins and cleanses us from all things that aren't right. I believe that's why Paul found great boast in his weaknesses. He knew that in weakness we are made strong. And like we do with our children, we may have to hear the lesson over and over again. But thank God, our Heavenly Father is a very consistent parent!

A TRANSITION HEARTICLE

Some things just take time. Though you never want to rush into any new endeavor, transition is apart of that delicate process. I have enjoyed creatively flexing my appendages within past entries. I have found myself expressing a laughter in my soul and thought, "Surely, you have found your niche!" I wasn't surprised by the words of encouragement God was giving me to share with others; I was pleasantly surpised by its how God was setting up the delivery by using humor.

Last week, however, set up a whole new tone to my spirit that just needs time to work its way from pen and paper to blog entry. This upcoming entry will cause me to circumnavigate a topic of meatier fare. In Bridgeville, a suburb of Pittsburgh, a fitness center chain made national headlines. A local man entered one of their establishments and open fired on an aerobics class leaving three women dead, 9 injured and a lone gunman turning the rage from his trigger on himself. Please be warned that this is not the type of article you have grown accustomed to reading. Conversely, it is where God is. And as you know, our heart's desire is to be where He is. All I ask is that you pray. Pray for words. Pray for truth. Pray for a deeper sensitivity to what God would have me say.

A few years ago I wrote a song called "Speak" (not to be confused by Cheri Keaggy's song of the same title). Based on Samuel's response to God, this young man simply said, "Speak, for your servant is listening" (1 Samuel 3:10). What the Lord spoke was not pleasant, but it was necessary for His people Israel and for Eli, the priest whom Samuel served, to hear. Also God was entrusting this young man with a heavy message that caused him a certain amount of fear. He could have possibly feared the ramifications, but when ordered by Eli to reveal all God had spoken, "Samuel told him everything, hiding nothing from him" (verse 18).

The upcoming entry regarding these shootings has my heart feeling anxious over the presentation of contents, but as His daughter, I am called by God to speak the words He has entrusted me to say. Hiding nothing, I pray that the "words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer" (Psalm 19:14).

More on Wednesday...

THE FLIGHT THAT ALMOST GOT AWAY FROM MRS. RIP VAN WINKLE

Psalm 121:3-7 - He will not let your foot slip - he who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord watches over you...The Lord will keep ou from all harm - he will watch over your life.

I’ve seen the wings of a plane cut through the clouds like a knife to warm butter. I’ve witnessed the majesty of the heavens unfolding at an altitude of 30,000 feet. While up in the air, I’ve wanted to bounce up and down on the greatest, puffiest, fluffiest air mattress the world has ever seen. But Thursday at the airport, I became Mrs. Rip Van Winkle and almost slept through my departure to Charlotte!


It certainly wasn’t my intention. I’ve been so excited about the trip to the She Speaks conference in Concord this weekend that I tried to pace myself. Didn’t want to become a banshee the night before and try and cram everything that needed to be done for myself and my family between dinner and bedtime. So with less pressure, I ran errands throughout the week. So I went to the store to pick up incidentals. I packed my son’s gear for his week-long excursion to summer camp. I got in a physical therapy visit and a hair appointment (hey, I’m not going anywhere with my hair matted and nappy – smile). My husband and I even worked on the checkbook and paid bills. But as the night before the big flight wore on, I got attacked with all kinds of oddities. My shoulder mysteriously went into muscle spasms and the floodlight from the back porch decided not to illuminate the wet back steps. I’m use to counting stairs when I can’t see, but because I was so busy trying not to trip over the dog’s leash wrapped half way down the steps, I miscounted and landed hard on my uninjured foot (oh yeah, the left foot is still puffy and swollen from the last fall I had). This was no longer cute so my dear husband helped his poor wife out of her hysteria and then trotted off to the kitchen to get the Advil and my elixir of magnesium (a natural muscle relaxer recommended by my chiropractor). At that point, we were more than ready for bed.


Since I had only a couple of things to do before Dan drove me to the airport, I got up really early to pedicure and pray – definitely a fun way to pray without ceasing, don’t you think). More than ready to embark on this glorious adventure, we arrived early. I checked by bag, grabbed lunch and got to my gate way ahead of schedule. After eating, I did what any normal person would do – I took a nap. Oh, no, no, no, no, no! I stirred a bit and found no one boarding at my gate. With one passenger at the desk and a marquee sign announcing its flight to Boston, in full panic mode, I shouted out “Where’s Charlotte!” “Oh it got moved across the hall. It’s a good thing it’s running late,” she replied. “Late!” I glanced at my watch to find that it was 10 minutes after the original take off. Again, “oh dear!”


Don’t worry. I was able to board the flight and at full capacity. I chuckled all the way to my seat – mostly because I was too panicked to do anything else. As I sat down to write this on the flight to Charlotte, I was more determined that not only would “no weapon formed again me should prosper,” but that this would not be the flight that almost got away from Mrs. Rip Van Winkle!

FOLLOW THAT CADILLAC!

Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, "This is the way; walk in it." -- Isaiah 30:21

Traffic and I aren't the best of traveling companions. It demands too much of one's precious time. And if you're a hopeless multi-tasker, you're simply left to root memorization CDs in the car or refereeing intense moments of fellowship with your angelic brood in the backseat. Heaven forbid you're one of those cell phone yackers without a bluetooth or speaker capability...but, I'm digressing here and it's best to step away from this soapbox.

Anywho, although Pittsburgh was ranked as one of the best top 10 cities in which to commute, like all the other cities of the world, you're still bound to go bumper to bumper sometime. Some people plan for the daily commute and can take the snail's pace with reasonably great stride. Others, well let's just say road rage is not the answer. And still there are some -- present company included -- who do not plan for anticipated (and for that matter, unanticipated) obstacles. And since I knew that my commute to work consisted of a redirect due to bridge construction and a commute that doubled my 3-mile journey, I was as ready as I'll ever be. Or so I thought as I sat on the detoured bridge the other day puzzled by the more-than 20 minutes it took to cross a 1/4-mile structure. Oh was I in for a shock as I saw barricades strewn across the detoured road and a line of cars leading up "Plan B Street!"

Oh dear, oh dear! This was not good because as I glanced at some of the drivers' faces, it was as plain as the nose on mine that we were in for a bumpy ride! I sensed that this was not the way to go so I maneuvered into the empty lane leading back across the detoured bridge. I thought that even if it took longer to get to work, at least I'll be flowing against traffic. So up Route 65 I went with a relaxed sigh and Toby Mac blasting on the radio. Seven miles later, I reached the bridge north of the under-construction one and I followed the signs leading me across the river to Route 51 southbound and Neville Island. Why would I mention roads of which you might be unfamiliar? Because they're a crucial piece of this story, I suppose.

I was somewhat familiar with Route 51 though I rarely traveled on it. So as I was humming to something else on my radio dial, I couldn't help but glance over to the passenger side of the road and notice that the river's horizon line looked a bit too high for my taste. I figured "what do you expect? You are on an island, for goodness sake!" The thought was then dismissed to the land of oblivious thinking. But as I rounded the bend on the next to final leg of my alternate commute, I was unprepared (really?! you say) for what came next. Yes, you guessed it -- a left lane back up leading all the way down my redirected hill. So I did what any sane person would do -- I PANICKED! No I didn't (honestly). Actually, I asked God what to do and after my famous "help me" prayers, I saw this vehicle break formation to get in the empty right lane. Although I was reluctant, I did hear, "Follow that car!" (it also helped that a sign for a neighborhood hospital was posted on the telephone pole).

So up and away I went leaving those poor souls to "fender" for themselves (oops, bad pun). As we got to the top of yet another T-intersected road, the SUV turned left and I got the notion to turn in the opposite direction. My advice -- resist the notion. Although the road looked somewhat familiar at that point, I was only over the river, but not out of the woods to get to grandmother's house (haha! there goes my brain enjoying amusing mental ramblings). What I meant to say was I wasn't at work yet.

After about 100 yards or so, I turned around, prayed my three-word prayer and followed the road I should have taken. I didn't have the SUV to lead the way, but I chalked it up as a lesson learned and to move on from it. Well, I got to the bottom of that hill and to my utter amazement, there was another long line of cars. This time they were coming from two directions waiting to converge into one infinite mass of rage and steel. My initial thought to following the crowd was "thank you very much, but no thanks!" What seemed to work for me so far? My three-word prayer -- "help me Lord!" Help me to either get a clue or to "buckle up" like the rest of the poor saps!

Again I looked up after that prayer and saw this old Cadillac putter from formation. Another vehicle followed his lead and I followed suit. Let me tell you it was one convoluted ride down one narrow side street after another. But this time, I felt a peace about the trip. There was no second guessing as I signaled when he did and drove where he drove. When we finally exited this roller coaster-like, joy ride, I rolled into another t-intersection that brought a broad smile to my face. I survived the journey! All I had to do was "TURN TO THE RIGHT!" (sorry again; another mental musing moment over Holly Hunter barking that line in "Raising Arizona"). The cool part was that I was only a 1/2 mile from my destination.

As I sat waiting to turn, my heart whispered a three-word prayer for the ones caught in the traffic jam to end all jams -- "Help them Lord!" And though I got to work more than an hour later, I called my boss to inform her of my comical commute. "You need to listen to your radio more," came her supportive response. "Did you know there was major flooding on Route 51 at the detour and on Neville Island?" Whoa! My three-word prayer after that phone call -- "Thank you Lord!"

THE MORAL - We're all bound to travel roads that throw us way off course and it's perfectly understandable to have some initial anxieties mostly because of life's uncertainties. But God never leaves us nor forsakes us. He always has a plan even if it's contrary to our ways, our thoughts on the matter and even our own agendas. You might be surprised to know that He's never thrown off guard. In fact, He is always on guard when it comes to leading us in the way everlasting. If it resembles a blaring answer from the likes of the SUV I followed or a well-worn, albeit convolutingly faithful road such as the one I traveled in pursuit of a '78 Cadillac, God will never, ever "steer" you wrong!

OUR OBSESSION WITH TIME

Who wants more than 24 hours in a day? Anyone? Oh what we could do with just another hour tacked on to the day, I tell you. That's what I've been thinking. What would we do with another hour per day? Would we get that spare closet cleared and cart the contents to the Goodwill? Would we get in an hour of exercise? How about a little "me" time to soak in a hot bubble bath complete with scented candles, instrumental worship music and not a child in sight? Ah, let's soak in the dream, shall we before our bubbles burst from the alarm clock announcing another day.

Oh we try to wish we had more time. We try to juggle things to make more time. We try and pray we had more time from God. And even some of us have dreamed of daily transcontinental flights to the other side of the globe just to gain a few hours of daylight savings time (sadly, this could get old really quick as sleep will catch up to us and we lose the time we gained in the flight). But somehow I've digressed and have possibly wasted your precious time.

We simply have to step back and laugh at our obsession with time. No matter how we wish we had more, we have been given by God the same 24 hours as everyone else. What we do with it is totally up to our discretion. Some people waste it away wishing for more. Others don't sit around wishing. They hit the ground running with their organizing and prioritizing.

So what's their secret? The truth of God's word, that's what. Jesus was having a mountaintop heart-to-heart with a multitude of people when He said to "seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness and all these things shall be added to you" (Matthew 6:33). As we first make time for God, He makes time for us. Spending time with the Father allows Him to take back time spent obsessing over things that would otherwise vie for our attention. The desire for more than 24 hours gets replaced with the quality of the moments with which we're blessed to pass on and share with others.

My heartfelt prayer - Dear God, since the very beginning, You created time. Help us to yield our anxieties over why there aren't enough hours in the day and to wisely use the time with which we're blessed. In this we pray - AMEN.

SILENCE - A GOLDEN RESPONSE!

When I'm hurt, I'm a clam. It's not intentional. It's just where I go when things aren't quite kosher with me. The silence is not stemmed from the simple, "I've had a bad day at work" fare. It goes deeper with me. I draw silent when I lose my way or my nerve or even my temper. I hear this recording in my head that says, "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." (WAIT! You have that recording as well? Wow, go figure).


For most of us, we learned to respond (or react) to whatever throws us off our game. And we can run the risk of saying or doing something that we'll regret. My pastor once gave a demonstration of how our words, for example, can be our undoing if we're not careful. Ever try getting toothpaste back into an already-squeezed tube? It's close to impossible and if you're daring enough to try it, you'll find that not all of it gets back in the tube without a mess. That's why I stop before I speak. When I grow silent, that's usually my cue to also grow deeper into the presence of God. It's there I desperately seek Him out for answers to my painful wounds. Silence, for some, may not be golden, but it can prove a precious commodity if spent well.

How about you? What do you do with the pain of the moment? Do you retaliate with scathing words or do you retreat into God for answers? God's remedy for silence is to be still and know who He is. He is a refuge and strength in times of trouble. He is a comfort to the weary. He is a healer to the infirmed. And He is peace that goes beyond comprehension.

Silence may be a foreign concept, but God knows how to interpret its language and His responses to us are golden!

HUNGRY FOR SOMETHING

To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. – 1 Corinthians 9:22

My husband is a hopeless carnivore. And I don’t mean “skip-the-flame” rare meat eater kind. For him, if the burger’s still mooing, it’s not cooked enough. And since he’s the one firing up the charcoal briquettes, we’re pretty much at his mercy. I don’t like bloody meat either, but I’m not too keen on Holstein-flavored chewing gum! Our son shares my sentiment. He has no problem eating the burgers from Wendy’s, but he has a hard time finishing his dad’s home-cooked shoe leather on a bun (oops – I mean burgers).

Now some people can chew on the tough stuff; others operate from a different taste palate. If you’re the one wearing the “Kiss the Cook” apron, the trick is to poll your hungry eaters and serve them a meal that whets their whistle. Take, for example, our presentation of the gospel. If you’re anything like me, we can’t contain our excitement over what God has done in our lives. Yet sometimes in our zest to “reach and preach,” we end up feeding the world the gospel according to our taste buds and it may come off as a little too tough to chew. You and I both know that God is phenomenal! We know that He is awesome! And in my best vernacular, we know that God is “all that and a bag of chips!” But there are those yet to “taste and see that the Lord is good!” They’re either stuffed from the usual, yet unsatisfying fare of the world or hungry for a more eternally-rewarding dining experience. That’s why I believe Paul needed to share his recipe for witnessing to a gospel-starved world – “to the weak, I became weak, to win the weak.”

The moral: When given the opportunity to present the gospel to a stressed co-worker, a bewildered friend or a perplexed stranger, take a tip from “Chef Paul.” First, listen to their heart’s order and present their request to Jesus, the Master Chef. His menu selections are cooked just right to win over a hungry appetite!

FRETTING

This has been some week, let me tell you. When life tries to get the better of me, I'm learning to rest in the lessons of God's word. Thought you might like to hear what God has to say about fretting --

Do not fret because of evil men or be envious of those who do wrong; for like the gras they will soon wither, like green plants they will soon die away. Trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture. Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will do this; He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun. Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him; do not fret when men succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes. Refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret -- it leads only to evil. For evil men will be cut off, but those who hope in the Lod will inherit the land and enjoy great peace. -- Psalm 37:1-11

Who but God can say it better? Waves of truth crashing against life's hull, His beacon calls us to set our sails homeward, onward. Although fretting is akin to anxiety, God calls us to "be anxious for nothing." My encouragement is that you allow His light to shine in the dark areas of fretting. Find peace and hope as you sail on, sister! Sail on!

DIRECTIONS & ROADSIDE ASSISTANCE

No four lefts will get you back to where you started in this town. This city with its three rivers merging at a point, its sports teams on a roll and its overabundance of communities has a lot going for it. However, giving directions is not one of those things. I tried with all my might to help a fellow co-worker from getting “lost in space” Pittsburgh style. Though she had lived here most of her life, she could still get lost traveling outside her comfort zone. The other day when it took her more than two hours to reach my office what should have taken no more than a half hour, all I could internally muse was “stay out there for another hour, and you’d be eligible for a Gilligan’s Island tour package.”

My intent was not to make light sport of her predicament. I don’t like getting lost myself, but then it dawned on me. If she had clearer directions, maybe that would have helped her. No more “well, you go dahn there n’at ‘bout a mile and go left” (in the best Pittsburghese I could muster). Nope, I was not gonna do that to her. I assessed her distress and ended up drawing out a map with details and landmarks to help her navigate back home. She was reluctant at first, because she wasn’t use to anyone giving her that much information or even taking her angst seriously. To her “go left” could mean a number of things. And when you’re the one behind the wheel at a 5-way intersection branching off into another 5-way intersection, there’s just no time for interpretation. I am happy to report that with the directions I gave her, she reached her destination safe and sound. Her concerns were validated and her issues were properly addressed. Now, if only PennDOT would work on putting up some street signs identifying those four lefts, we’d all be the better for it, don’t you think?!

The moral – Life can take you to some interesting destinations. If you’re not sure of where you’re going, don’t hesitate in asking God for directions. He knows the way and He knows just how to get you from point A to point B with the least amount of worry. He does so through prayer and supplication as our map. And believe me, you’ll end up being very thankful for “roadside assistance.”

BRING ON THE LEMONS!

Never and I do mean, never, ever reach for anything while driving your car! Sound advice, you’d think, but did I heed its warning? No!! Instead I started sucking on lemons the moment my tires hit the curb. I was more embarrassed because it wasn’t really anything important and I don’t usually become that caught off guard.

Well, I knew I was going to be late for work so pulled my car over, called the appropriate people (my boss, a friend to pick me up, my husband and then AAA -- all in that order) and waited. When I found out that I had to wait with the vehicle in order for the auto club to send out the tow truck, I could feel my lips purse up.

My friend came, comforted me and went on her merry way. It was at that moment I had a choice. This had turned into a sour experience, no doubt. But I decided I could turn this bitter taste into something sweet with a little bit of perspective and a whole lot of laughter. Thus, I was intent on making lemonade. Well, the morning took a wondrous turn as I poked fun and bantered with the tow guy. He, in turn, directed me to a hidden tire shop in my general neighborhood. There I didn’t have to wait two hours to be serviced as I initially was told. And I ended up sharing my creative concoction with the tire shop manager who laughed with me about his crazy day. We ended up being very thankful for health and of all things, eyesight. I drove to work feeling blessed and refreshed. And I even had the opportunity to share my “lemonade” experience with a co-worker.

The moral - When life hands you lemons, turn the experience into lemonade. Your choice just might turn a sour experience into something sweet. Bring on the lemons!

LIVIN' LA VIDA LOCA

Okay, don't know what is possessing me from a literary sense to bite off more than I am currently ready to chew, but when God speaks, I truly try and listen. Especially, at 2:30 this morning. It was a shockwave coming from the hall outside my bedroom door. I'm sound asleep and I hear this scream -- "MOM!! IT'S COMING!!! I GOTTA GO DOWNSTAIRS AND THROW UP!!!!!" No soft awakenings from a sound slumber...OH NOOOOOOO!!! "Downstairs!! No baby!! Go to the bathroom!!" as I spring out of bed, whip my glasses off the dresser and double bound down the stairs in hot pursuit of my child, who by the way, was able to start the terjectile event before I could sprint to the kitchen for the bucket!

It took a minute or two for the adrenaline to slack off when I realized I am lone parent for the weekend (husband safe in steady slumber at a men's retreat this weekend, go figure - hahaha). I assess the situation while our child sits in the half bath half dazed, half confused and fully apologetic. To spare you the gorey details, let's just say, I did my parental duty, eventually got him from the "porcelain throne" to the floor (he wanted to camp out there) to the bed (with the bucket, of course).

Once we got up this morning, he was "fit as a fiddle" (the culprit was a funnel cake he devoured at the Arts Festival - man, I should have realized something was up cause, hey he stayed home from school the other day because of a similar event). We're up now and before we are ready to do the "million-mile dash" out the door, there are chores. So while I'm putting the "finishing touches" to the floor that suffered the "early-morning explosion," our child is tidying his room to the repetitive tune from a Kidz Bop CD. What is this tune, you might imagine? None other than "LIVIN' LA VIDA LOCA" baby!! After about the umpteenth time through, I found myself bopping my head and dancing right into his room! Yeah, I got the look, but I also got a faint smile of approval from his face. In a way, I believe he was thanking me for not blowing up at him or for that matter, having a cow! MOO-MOOOOOOO!

The moral - Life's crazy and messy, but you can get through it! That's called "livin' la vida loca!" Have a great day!