4/9/09
“Born to blog.” That’s what Megan told Molly about me. I appreciate the vote of confidence, Megan, but until a few months ago I didn’t even really know what a blog was. For someone on the leading edge of the baby boomer generation, words like twitter mean a bird’s chirping. Do you use twitter to post your tweets? Even tweet sounds ornithological to me.
Certainly the new information that a "Tweeter is a Twitter Interface that allows you to post new tweets through Facebook, and will automatically update your status whenever you tweet (from anywhere)" is more than confusing to me.
I am grateful that Josh tutored me in my first and only texting and that last fall he set me up on g-mail. Now I am even able to “chat” with him on-line when we are both logged on. That’s the closest I’ll ever get to a chat room. But even with that when he typed BRB the other day, it took me a while to figure it out. (LOL)
Clearly my HHS kids and my own adult children are more fluent than I am in tech talk. Plus, their thumbs fly on their cell phones faster than mine do on this keyboard---and I made an A in typing. What I don’t want to happen is for us to have a failure to communicate!
This past week that became my concern about the blog. If I had to define blog now, I’d say it’s a “journal gone public” read more often by the blogger than other bloggees—if that’s a real term.
I’d also say it’s a scary thing because you never know exactly who, if anyone, is reading it, and how they are interpreting it. For me, to miscommunicate the truths that God has taught me would be a travesty.
So, I communicated with the Lord about it. Should I continue? What if I get it wrong theologically? Is this for me when it should be for Thee?
The next few days the Lord began to affirm to me in a variety of very tangible ways that for now I was to keep “blogging.” Why? Communicating with God is so important for all of us and if any one person has used these ramblings to open his or her heart to Him, then His purpose will be served.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Mary Flo
4/8/09 Gracious Goodness
That phrase encapsulates the essence of Mary Flo. For those of you who don’t recognize the name, she and her husband, Dave, are our Texas hosts. Do we know them? We do now. Did we before MAC invaded my life? No. How did we meet them? It’s a God thing. It’s such a God thing that it seems complicated, but only to us---though it is difficult to explain. Here’s the skinny of it.
My friend Sally’s, good friend, Kari, who was in her wedding and knows Crickett and went to seminary with my son, is in women’s ministry in Dallas. Got that? When Sally called Kari for input on a place to stay for her friend, Dotsy, who at the time was scheduled to go to Southwestern Medical, Kari took it on as a mission. Not wanting us to stay in a hotel in that part of Dallas, she related the problem to women at her church, Park Cities Presbytrian. Several folks came forward offering a back house or room in their home etc. Plus, she told Crickett that they were ready to “adopt” us and that the staff was already praying for me. Larry and I were overwhelmed by the outpouring of love from this church. Once we met Mary Flo, it was a no-brainer. Who wouldn’t want to stay with someone so kind and so filled with divine grace.
“Gracious goodness,” so describes her.
She is such a gracious lady who is filled with the goodness of the Lord. She is so filled with His goodness that it continually overflows to others---lots of others, even strangers like me. Her smile, kind words and positive spirit exude the love of God.
I could use lots of flowery descriptors so you could read of her deeds and catalog her in your mind as a super hero of sorts, but she wouldn’t want that. She would want you to see Jesus.
I certainly saw the Lord in her all hours of the day and night. She truly serves others---a real live foot washer. (and clothes washer) She has already called and e-mailed to let us know that she’s excited to see us again and wants us to make her home our home. Plus, she’s quite the baker and always has treats for us---remember I was working on a way to get her coconut cake in a syringe. All that gracious goodness will be waiting for us when we arrive tomorrow.
I’m sure that Mary Flo is a Proverbs 31 woman to all her family and friends. Though she personifies all of those qualities, to me she embodies Romans 12:11 The Revised Version, that I memorized years ago in hopes of emulating, says, “Never flag in zeal, be aglow with the Spirit, serve the Lord.”
Zeal. She is a spiritual Energizer Bunny---not only does she keep going and going and going, she does it with purpose, the Lord’s purpose. His purpose is shown in her service to others.
Tombstone/headstone epitaphs are a reflection of one's existence highlighting one’s personality traits or accomplishments in life. It’s a way of communicating to the world his/her significance.
“Aglow with the Spirit” will be Mary Flo’s epitaph.
That gives me pause as my grandmother once said. How ‘bout you?
How ‘bout me? Would such godly phrases be used to describe us?
That phrase encapsulates the essence of Mary Flo. For those of you who don’t recognize the name, she and her husband, Dave, are our Texas hosts. Do we know them? We do now. Did we before MAC invaded my life? No. How did we meet them? It’s a God thing. It’s such a God thing that it seems complicated, but only to us---though it is difficult to explain. Here’s the skinny of it.
My friend Sally’s, good friend, Kari, who was in her wedding and knows Crickett and went to seminary with my son, is in women’s ministry in Dallas. Got that? When Sally called Kari for input on a place to stay for her friend, Dotsy, who at the time was scheduled to go to Southwestern Medical, Kari took it on as a mission. Not wanting us to stay in a hotel in that part of Dallas, she related the problem to women at her church, Park Cities Presbytrian. Several folks came forward offering a back house or room in their home etc. Plus, she told Crickett that they were ready to “adopt” us and that the staff was already praying for me. Larry and I were overwhelmed by the outpouring of love from this church. Once we met Mary Flo, it was a no-brainer. Who wouldn’t want to stay with someone so kind and so filled with divine grace.
“Gracious goodness,” so describes her.
She is such a gracious lady who is filled with the goodness of the Lord. She is so filled with His goodness that it continually overflows to others---lots of others, even strangers like me. Her smile, kind words and positive spirit exude the love of God.
I could use lots of flowery descriptors so you could read of her deeds and catalog her in your mind as a super hero of sorts, but she wouldn’t want that. She would want you to see Jesus.
I certainly saw the Lord in her all hours of the day and night. She truly serves others---a real live foot washer. (and clothes washer) She has already called and e-mailed to let us know that she’s excited to see us again and wants us to make her home our home. Plus, she’s quite the baker and always has treats for us---remember I was working on a way to get her coconut cake in a syringe. All that gracious goodness will be waiting for us when we arrive tomorrow.
I’m sure that Mary Flo is a Proverbs 31 woman to all her family and friends. Though she personifies all of those qualities, to me she embodies Romans 12:11 The Revised Version, that I memorized years ago in hopes of emulating, says, “Never flag in zeal, be aglow with the Spirit, serve the Lord.”
Zeal. She is a spiritual Energizer Bunny---not only does she keep going and going and going, she does it with purpose, the Lord’s purpose. His purpose is shown in her service to others.
Tombstone/headstone epitaphs are a reflection of one's existence highlighting one’s personality traits or accomplishments in life. It’s a way of communicating to the world his/her significance.
“Aglow with the Spirit” will be Mary Flo’s epitaph.
That gives me pause as my grandmother once said. How ‘bout you?
How ‘bout me? Would such godly phrases be used to describe us?
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Games
4/7/09 Games of Life
Our family has an affinity for games, especially word games. These games are often most enjoyed not because of the ease or fun but rather because of the challenge. There is also the competitive element that can enter into the fun----though that is not my preferred part. In most of our favorite games, there seems to be somewhat of a joy in the hardship of figuring things out. It's always done in the context of the rules but when resolution finally occurs, we all appreciate the challenge.
We can make a game out of anything. Traditionally, the night before the first day of school, all three of our kids would have to find their school supplies by following the clues for the “hunt.” Recently, when Josh and Molly were in Dallas for my surgery, they created a similar scavenger/treasure hunt for Buddy’s boys. They too loved the challenge and worked together for the to expedite the "find."
Each summer at the beach we “Boggle” or “Scrabble” at night with our old standby favorites or sometimes we add a new game to our repertoire. In the mornings, we spend time with our pseudo friend, Will Shortz. Though we wouldn’t know his face, we know his style. The Liles wordsmiths begin the day, with coffee or tea in hand, huddled around his New York Times crossword puzzle. Pencils in hand as well. Always pencils because Mr. Shortz is a master of clues. A clue once listed for confident was “one who works this with a pen.” We could never do that with one of his puzzles.
We are sticklers for rules in the games we play---we all have to be on the same page. Many a fray has resulted in croquet matches or Scrabble games so we pack the rules and the crossword and Scrabble dictionaries right alongside the swimsuits. That’s why daily crosswords are good---you can’t “cheat” by looking in the back.
Rules are good. God has given us rules for life in His Word.
2 Timothy 3:16 says, All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness;
His rules allow us to live fulfilled lives.
Be diligent to present yourself approved to God as a workman who does not need to be ashamed, accurately handling the word of truth. (2 Timothy 2:15) Just as word handling is important in board games, it’s extremely important with His word.
Retain the standard of sound words which you have heard from me, in the faith and love which are in Christ Jesus. (2 Timothy 1:13) God provides the trump card that enables us to do it---His grace.
Playing by God’s rules doesn’t take away anything from the game/dance of life, it adds meaning and purpose to it---that sense of accomplishment that comes from a life well lived. By His rules, for His glory. Don’t cheat yourself by trying to shortcut God’s plan----living life your way is your game, not His.
I usually take the CA crossword puzzle to bed with me at night. Worries from the day seem to take a backseat when I’m trying to solve “one across and one down.” Similarly, life’s big concerns dissipate when I’m focused on the cross---that vertical relationship with Him and that horizontal relationship with others.
Instruct them to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is life indeed. (1 Timothy 6:18-19) That "life indeed" is a life of abunDANCE with him now and forever--when our time on earth blinks, “GAME OVER.”
Our family has an affinity for games, especially word games. These games are often most enjoyed not because of the ease or fun but rather because of the challenge. There is also the competitive element that can enter into the fun----though that is not my preferred part. In most of our favorite games, there seems to be somewhat of a joy in the hardship of figuring things out. It's always done in the context of the rules but when resolution finally occurs, we all appreciate the challenge.
We can make a game out of anything. Traditionally, the night before the first day of school, all three of our kids would have to find their school supplies by following the clues for the “hunt.” Recently, when Josh and Molly were in Dallas for my surgery, they created a similar scavenger/treasure hunt for Buddy’s boys. They too loved the challenge and worked together for the to expedite the "find."
Each summer at the beach we “Boggle” or “Scrabble” at night with our old standby favorites or sometimes we add a new game to our repertoire. In the mornings, we spend time with our pseudo friend, Will Shortz. Though we wouldn’t know his face, we know his style. The Liles wordsmiths begin the day, with coffee or tea in hand, huddled around his New York Times crossword puzzle. Pencils in hand as well. Always pencils because Mr. Shortz is a master of clues. A clue once listed for confident was “one who works this with a pen.” We could never do that with one of his puzzles.
We are sticklers for rules in the games we play---we all have to be on the same page. Many a fray has resulted in croquet matches or Scrabble games so we pack the rules and the crossword and Scrabble dictionaries right alongside the swimsuits. That’s why daily crosswords are good---you can’t “cheat” by looking in the back.
Rules are good. God has given us rules for life in His Word.
2 Timothy 3:16 says, All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness;
His rules allow us to live fulfilled lives.
Be diligent to present yourself approved to God as a workman who does not need to be ashamed, accurately handling the word of truth. (2 Timothy 2:15) Just as word handling is important in board games, it’s extremely important with His word.
Retain the standard of sound words which you have heard from me, in the faith and love which are in Christ Jesus. (2 Timothy 1:13) God provides the trump card that enables us to do it---His grace.
Playing by God’s rules doesn’t take away anything from the game/dance of life, it adds meaning and purpose to it---that sense of accomplishment that comes from a life well lived. By His rules, for His glory. Don’t cheat yourself by trying to shortcut God’s plan----living life your way is your game, not His.
I usually take the CA crossword puzzle to bed with me at night. Worries from the day seem to take a backseat when I’m trying to solve “one across and one down.” Similarly, life’s big concerns dissipate when I’m focused on the cross---that vertical relationship with Him and that horizontal relationship with others.
Instruct them to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is life indeed. (1 Timothy 6:18-19) That "life indeed" is a life of abunDANCE with him now and forever--when our time on earth blinks, “GAME OVER.”
Monday, April 6, 2009
Contentment
4/6/09
“This negative focus darkened her mind,” is the way today’s Jesus Calling entry depicts Eve when her mind was seeing what she couldn’t have rather than seeing what she already had. Do you ever do that? Brood over what you don’t have. Eve couldn’t see all the luscious, desirable fruits she had been given, only the one she couldn’t “eat freely.” (Gen. 2:16) With prompting from the serpent, she began to focus on the fruit of the tree that was delightful to her eyes and desirable for wisdom, even though it had been forbidden by God. (Gen. 3:2-6) Discontent had entered her mind. She wanted more. “All I want is a little more than I have now” would have been her bumper sticker.
I have always heard that there are 3 verb tenses for life---past tense, all the “if onlys” we tell our selves as we brood, the future tense, all the “what ifs” we worry about when we fear and the “pleasant” tense—all the acceptance that comes when living in the present, especially in His presence. That “pleasant” tense is one of contentment and is often a place where too few Christians hang their hats. Like Eve, we look past what we have and focus on what we don’t have.
We often convince ourselves that if only I had this, if only my spouse hadn’t left me or if only this circumstance were different then I would be happy/content. Oh reader, do “you look for what is wrong and refuse to enjoy life until it is fixed.” Anxiety often plays tag between the
if onlys and the what ifs---we just swap the areas of our worries. What if the biopsy comes back positive? What if I never have children? Comparison (a big struggle for women) is a thief of joy in both the past and future tenses of life, as we wonder if only we were as pretty or as thin as someone else, or what if our child can’t make the grade for the best school.
We have to let go of those if onlys of disappointments and regrets of the past and those what ifs of the future, that are usually out of our control anyway.
My definition (still under construction) for the “pleasant/present” tense of contentment is----a learned trait that is marked by inner satisfaction and peace that manifests itself in a grateful spirit and an absence of complaint.
• It doesn’t come naturally; it has to be learned. I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. (Philippians 4:11)
• Satisfaction comes from El Shaddai, the All Sufficient One. (Isaiah 55:2)
• His peace passes understanding. (Philippians 4:7)
• In everything give thanks. ( 1 Thessalonians 5:18)
• Do all things without complaining and disputing. (Philippians 2:14)
Can contentment be a reality in the midst of a cancer diagnosis? For me, it has been one of the most content times of my life. Trust me, I can hold my own with the best of the carpers of the world--- I wrestle with an attitude of complaint far too often. But, this MAC Journey has been such a time of affirmation of God’s goodness for me that contentment has been an overflow. I’ve learned it in a classroom (or on the dance floor) of suffering but I wouldn’t trade the lessons that He has had for me in the midst of it.
Journal Jottings:
Contentment comes from………………..
,,,,,,,,,,,,,not denying reality but by experiencing today----that "pleasant present" tense------in Christ’s strength------------focusing on the Lord and not my circumstances.
DON’T LOOK FOR CONTENTMENT AT THE END OF THE ROAD. WALK THE ROAD WITH HIM---DANCE ALONG THE WAY---LIVE IN THE “PLEASANT” TENSE!
“This negative focus darkened her mind,” is the way today’s Jesus Calling entry depicts Eve when her mind was seeing what she couldn’t have rather than seeing what she already had. Do you ever do that? Brood over what you don’t have. Eve couldn’t see all the luscious, desirable fruits she had been given, only the one she couldn’t “eat freely.” (Gen. 2:16) With prompting from the serpent, she began to focus on the fruit of the tree that was delightful to her eyes and desirable for wisdom, even though it had been forbidden by God. (Gen. 3:2-6) Discontent had entered her mind. She wanted more. “All I want is a little more than I have now” would have been her bumper sticker.
I have always heard that there are 3 verb tenses for life---past tense, all the “if onlys” we tell our selves as we brood, the future tense, all the “what ifs” we worry about when we fear and the “pleasant” tense—all the acceptance that comes when living in the present, especially in His presence. That “pleasant” tense is one of contentment and is often a place where too few Christians hang their hats. Like Eve, we look past what we have and focus on what we don’t have.
We often convince ourselves that if only I had this, if only my spouse hadn’t left me or if only this circumstance were different then I would be happy/content. Oh reader, do “you look for what is wrong and refuse to enjoy life until it is fixed.” Anxiety often plays tag between the
if onlys and the what ifs---we just swap the areas of our worries. What if the biopsy comes back positive? What if I never have children? Comparison (a big struggle for women) is a thief of joy in both the past and future tenses of life, as we wonder if only we were as pretty or as thin as someone else, or what if our child can’t make the grade for the best school.
We have to let go of those if onlys of disappointments and regrets of the past and those what ifs of the future, that are usually out of our control anyway.
My definition (still under construction) for the “pleasant/present” tense of contentment is----a learned trait that is marked by inner satisfaction and peace that manifests itself in a grateful spirit and an absence of complaint.
• It doesn’t come naturally; it has to be learned. I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. (Philippians 4:11)
• Satisfaction comes from El Shaddai, the All Sufficient One. (Isaiah 55:2)
• His peace passes understanding. (Philippians 4:7)
• In everything give thanks. ( 1 Thessalonians 5:18)
• Do all things without complaining and disputing. (Philippians 2:14)
Can contentment be a reality in the midst of a cancer diagnosis? For me, it has been one of the most content times of my life. Trust me, I can hold my own with the best of the carpers of the world--- I wrestle with an attitude of complaint far too often. But, this MAC Journey has been such a time of affirmation of God’s goodness for me that contentment has been an overflow. I’ve learned it in a classroom (or on the dance floor) of suffering but I wouldn’t trade the lessons that He has had for me in the midst of it.
Journal Jottings:
Contentment comes from………………..
,,,,,,,,,,,,,not denying reality but by experiencing today----that "pleasant present" tense------in Christ’s strength------------focusing on the Lord and not my circumstances.
DON’T LOOK FOR CONTENTMENT AT THE END OF THE ROAD. WALK THE ROAD WITH HIM---DANCE ALONG THE WAY---LIVE IN THE “PLEASANT” TENSE!
Sunday, April 5, 2009
The Best Medicine
4/5/09 Laughter
Winslow is here! For Hoptown readers, enough said. Those folks know our friendship has spanned the years from childhood to senior citizen. From antics as teenagers to college roomies and beyond we’ve been together---even if 379.05 miles apart. She was maid of honor in my wedding and I’m sure I assumed she could join us on our honeymoon---Larry didn’t make the same assumption. Yea, we were real close friends----and still are.
Therein lies the problem. We did everything together and most of our shared adventures were fun and funny. Funny brings laughter and though the old adage says, “Laughter is good for the soul,” it’s not good for sewn up lips. Coughing and yawning, I’ve learned to stifle. Sneezing and laughing, on the other hand, are still major concerns. One uncontrollable sneeze blew the nose “packing” across the room---I was just grateful it didn’t take my new nose floor (made from part of my upper lip) along with it.
Being married to a “born comic” and family dubbed, “king of one-liners,” I’ve been struggling with this urge to laugh at Larry ever since I came out from “under the influence” of the surgery drugs. He has really tried hard to “behave” but humor is just a part of who he is and it easily flows from Larryisms to 3 Stooges impersonations. It really got bad when he and nurse Beth (my sister or his first wife depending on joke/need of the moment) would banter in Baylor Hospital room 529. When she tried to feed me with the syringe aimed at the wrong “hole” I lost it----resulting in gown change and linen change and traffic jam trying to get me to the bathroom with all those poles tagging along. You get the picture. But……….that episode did teach me how to squeeze my jaw to minimize destruction.
So, what does scripture say about laughter?
A joyful heart is good medicine. (Proverbs 17:21) I’m pretty sure a joyful heart has some laughter in it. Of course, Ecclesiastes also reminds us that there is “a time to laugh.”
I had some real struggles in the wee hours last night---anxious thoughts (Psalm 94:19) are always harder for me to take captive (2Corinthians 10:5) in the dark. In this instance, I had probably overdone it a little yesterday, so my tired mind whirred fearfully even as I prayed and sought consolation from the Lord. Sleep escaped me for over two hours and refreshed is not a word that came to mind on awakening.
But God………..in His mercy had sent “nurse” Winslow—who does everything but bodily fluids. I had Winslow at my bedside, along with all the memories and laughter that came with her, and my spirits were lifted. God knew that today would be a good day for some laughter in my life---I’m sure that trying to reduce burgoo and benedictine to go through a straw will have us both in stitches. I just need to keep the laughter reigned in so I don’t lose my new botox lips or fish (carp) lips as Larry calls them. I will just have to trust the Lord to help me in this and practice the “squeeze” technique that Beth taught me.
Winslow is here! For Hoptown readers, enough said. Those folks know our friendship has spanned the years from childhood to senior citizen. From antics as teenagers to college roomies and beyond we’ve been together---even if 379.05 miles apart. She was maid of honor in my wedding and I’m sure I assumed she could join us on our honeymoon---Larry didn’t make the same assumption. Yea, we were real close friends----and still are.
Therein lies the problem. We did everything together and most of our shared adventures were fun and funny. Funny brings laughter and though the old adage says, “Laughter is good for the soul,” it’s not good for sewn up lips. Coughing and yawning, I’ve learned to stifle. Sneezing and laughing, on the other hand, are still major concerns. One uncontrollable sneeze blew the nose “packing” across the room---I was just grateful it didn’t take my new nose floor (made from part of my upper lip) along with it.
Being married to a “born comic” and family dubbed, “king of one-liners,” I’ve been struggling with this urge to laugh at Larry ever since I came out from “under the influence” of the surgery drugs. He has really tried hard to “behave” but humor is just a part of who he is and it easily flows from Larryisms to 3 Stooges impersonations. It really got bad when he and nurse Beth (my sister or his first wife depending on joke/need of the moment) would banter in Baylor Hospital room 529. When she tried to feed me with the syringe aimed at the wrong “hole” I lost it----resulting in gown change and linen change and traffic jam trying to get me to the bathroom with all those poles tagging along. You get the picture. But……….that episode did teach me how to squeeze my jaw to minimize destruction.
So, what does scripture say about laughter?
A joyful heart is good medicine. (Proverbs 17:21) I’m pretty sure a joyful heart has some laughter in it. Of course, Ecclesiastes also reminds us that there is “a time to laugh.”
I had some real struggles in the wee hours last night---anxious thoughts (Psalm 94:19) are always harder for me to take captive (2Corinthians 10:5) in the dark. In this instance, I had probably overdone it a little yesterday, so my tired mind whirred fearfully even as I prayed and sought consolation from the Lord. Sleep escaped me for over two hours and refreshed is not a word that came to mind on awakening.
But God………..in His mercy had sent “nurse” Winslow—who does everything but bodily fluids. I had Winslow at my bedside, along with all the memories and laughter that came with her, and my spirits were lifted. God knew that today would be a good day for some laughter in my life---I’m sure that trying to reduce burgoo and benedictine to go through a straw will have us both in stitches. I just need to keep the laughter reigned in so I don’t lose my new botox lips or fish (carp) lips as Larry calls them. I will just have to trust the Lord to help me in this and practice the “squeeze” technique that Beth taught me.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Wedding Prayers
4/4/09 Congratulations Halle and Kyle!
This is it-----today’s the day---the day I had prayed to be a part of since my cancer was first diagnosed. A month ago it seemed virtually impossible that I would even be able to travel home much less attend a wedding. Tonight I will be at Grace Evan celebrating the wedding of Halle Ford Higginbotham and Kyle Ryan Rodgers.
I have prayed for this bride for many years and even for her “soon to be” husband for the last 15 years---I just didn’t know it was going to be Kyle. I prayed for a godly spouse for Halle and this morning I prayed that both their wedding and their marriage would glorify the Lord.
You see, Halle’s mother is a dear, dear friend and we were in a prayer group together years ago. At that time, I committed to praying for her every Saturday. God has honored that commitment and kept me faithful. (Today He even kept the reception flowers from spilling over in the car.)
That’s one of the privileges of prayer, praying for others. I have “one-anothered” Pam in prayer. A spiritual by-product of that has been praying for her children---children can certainly keep us on our knees, can’t they---and now her grandchildren. So…….I’m already praying for a godly spouse for both Anna and Kate, should they marry.
I know that prayer is in no way all about my petitions or even that God will always answer in my timing or my way. He answers according to His good and perfect will in my life. As Oswald Chambers says, “the good of praying is that it gets us to know God and enables God to perform His order through us.” That’s the privilege of prayer at it’s best---that I might be used of God.
But God…….in His grace, has answered this prayer of my heart and my dancing shoes are by the back door. I might not “last” but one dance, but I’m gonna dance.
This is it-----today’s the day---the day I had prayed to be a part of since my cancer was first diagnosed. A month ago it seemed virtually impossible that I would even be able to travel home much less attend a wedding. Tonight I will be at Grace Evan celebrating the wedding of Halle Ford Higginbotham and Kyle Ryan Rodgers.
I have prayed for this bride for many years and even for her “soon to be” husband for the last 15 years---I just didn’t know it was going to be Kyle. I prayed for a godly spouse for Halle and this morning I prayed that both their wedding and their marriage would glorify the Lord.
You see, Halle’s mother is a dear, dear friend and we were in a prayer group together years ago. At that time, I committed to praying for her every Saturday. God has honored that commitment and kept me faithful. (Today He even kept the reception flowers from spilling over in the car.)
That’s one of the privileges of prayer, praying for others. I have “one-anothered” Pam in prayer. A spiritual by-product of that has been praying for her children---children can certainly keep us on our knees, can’t they---and now her grandchildren. So…….I’m already praying for a godly spouse for both Anna and Kate, should they marry.
I know that prayer is in no way all about my petitions or even that God will always answer in my timing or my way. He answers according to His good and perfect will in my life. As Oswald Chambers says, “the good of praying is that it gets us to know God and enables God to perform His order through us.” That’s the privilege of prayer at it’s best---that I might be used of God.
But God…….in His grace, has answered this prayer of my heart and my dancing shoes are by the back door. I might not “last” but one dance, but I’m gonna dance.
Friday, April 3, 2009
DOXOLOGY
4/3/09 Doxologies
Going home for me usually entails a Sunday morning visit to First United Methodist Church on South Main in Hopkinsville, KY. It’s a beautiful old stone church and in some ways much of it has remained the same, at least in the sanctuary where stained glass windows line both sides. The large stained glass window above the choir loft is flanked by the tall shiny brass organ pipes. The floors still creak. The dark wooden pews are still hard and in my mind I can see people sitting in “their” pews. I catch my self looking across the aisle for Christine and Pappy, though they passed away years ago. I even remember looking at the back of Mr. Frank Yost’s head, always so neatly combed, with his two daughters, Ridley and Francie sitting to his right. I don’t know where they are now but I do know that his milling company still makes Sunflower flour which I can now buy at my Kroger. Just buying it gives me a connection to home and the memory of my mother’s biscuits---because she wouldn’t even consider buying anything else.
I am drawn to different modes of worship both personally and in a church setting. But growing up in a traditional protestant setting provided a background based on a more formal liturgy. This traditional ritual of worship has remained the same and that familiarity feels right because I know the routine. It even feels comforting. If it’s communion Sunday, you go down to the altar to kneel and partake of the elements---approaching from the center aisle and returning to our pew using the side aisle. There are also kneeling benches in each pew, though I never remember using them.
You can still count on always saying the Apostle’s Creed---printed in the back of the hymnal, if you need it. Back then, everyone I knew recited it. In the old Cokesbury hymnal I remember using, you found the Doxology on page 1. Again, no one used the hymnal---everyone just knew it. I wonder if my grandchildren know that “liturgical formula of praise to God?” I’m sure singing praises in unison must be sweet music to the Lord’s ears.
I loved the Ah-h-h-h men part which they would drag out.
Doxology-Greek for praise---
Doxa, glory and honor, with logos, speech.
Why am I thinking about The Doxology? (You probably wonder that about a lot of things I write.)
I have learned in the last few months that those verses, hymns and even creeds become more than words of “rote” memory. Those words are foundational and they (especially those of praise) come back in times of trial and suffering. Praise should inhabit our hearts---whether our prayers are answered or not, whether we are in the midst of seemingly “cruel” circumstances or we are truly in a joyful state. You see, I have learned that joy and suffering are not separate entities---they can both inhabit a grateful heart at the same time. Praise God for whatever has brought you to the present moment, good, bad or just commonplace/ordinary. When we offer praise to God during these dark, hard times, it’s “to whisper a doxology in the darkness.” (Brennan Manning)
Going home for me usually entails a Sunday morning visit to First United Methodist Church on South Main in Hopkinsville, KY. It’s a beautiful old stone church and in some ways much of it has remained the same, at least in the sanctuary where stained glass windows line both sides. The large stained glass window above the choir loft is flanked by the tall shiny brass organ pipes. The floors still creak. The dark wooden pews are still hard and in my mind I can see people sitting in “their” pews. I catch my self looking across the aisle for Christine and Pappy, though they passed away years ago. I even remember looking at the back of Mr. Frank Yost’s head, always so neatly combed, with his two daughters, Ridley and Francie sitting to his right. I don’t know where they are now but I do know that his milling company still makes Sunflower flour which I can now buy at my Kroger. Just buying it gives me a connection to home and the memory of my mother’s biscuits---because she wouldn’t even consider buying anything else.
I am drawn to different modes of worship both personally and in a church setting. But growing up in a traditional protestant setting provided a background based on a more formal liturgy. This traditional ritual of worship has remained the same and that familiarity feels right because I know the routine. It even feels comforting. If it’s communion Sunday, you go down to the altar to kneel and partake of the elements---approaching from the center aisle and returning to our pew using the side aisle. There are also kneeling benches in each pew, though I never remember using them.
You can still count on always saying the Apostle’s Creed---printed in the back of the hymnal, if you need it. Back then, everyone I knew recited it. In the old Cokesbury hymnal I remember using, you found the Doxology on page 1. Again, no one used the hymnal---everyone just knew it. I wonder if my grandchildren know that “liturgical formula of praise to God?” I’m sure singing praises in unison must be sweet music to the Lord’s ears.
Praise God from whom all blessing flow.
Praise Him all creature here below.
Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts.
Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost. A-men
Praise Him all creature here below.
Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts.
Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost. A-men
I loved the Ah-h-h-h men part which they would drag out.
Doxology-Greek for praise---
Doxa, glory and honor, with logos, speech.
Why am I thinking about The Doxology? (You probably wonder that about a lot of things I write.)
I have learned in the last few months that those verses, hymns and even creeds become more than words of “rote” memory. Those words are foundational and they (especially those of praise) come back in times of trial and suffering. Praise should inhabit our hearts---whether our prayers are answered or not, whether we are in the midst of seemingly “cruel” circumstances or we are truly in a joyful state. You see, I have learned that joy and suffering are not separate entities---they can both inhabit a grateful heart at the same time. Praise God for whatever has brought you to the present moment, good, bad or just commonplace/ordinary. When we offer praise to God during these dark, hard times, it’s “to whisper a doxology in the darkness.” (Brennan Manning)
Thursday, April 2, 2009
"In the Garden"
4/2/09 Garden of the Heart
Remember the old hymn, “In the Garden?” It was my grandmother’s favorite and a standard at funerals. It’s what first came to mind this morning as I was reading Jesus Calling. I loved the analogy of comparing our hearts to a garden.
I come to the garden alone—solitude is great for reflection
While the dew is still on the roses---first thing in the morning is a good time to open your heart to hear from the Lord
And the voice I hear---His voice, though not audible, can be “heard” when we attune our hearts to His
Falling on my ear---silence aids listening
The Son of God disposes----not sure of the best verb definition here—maybe a combo says it best—He inclines me to be willing to see things from His perspective---putting His view in place in my heart thus settling matters (of the heart)
When I think of a garden, words like tranquil, serene and quiet seem to be descriptive of such a place. How about your/my heart? Could those adjectives be used for our hearts? How does one find that quietude necessary to hear the “still small voice.” We certainly have to be free of the gripping distractions of the world. A lot of us need practice in this area. As Corrie Ten Boom prays, “Father tune our ears to your still small voice…”
3/16 entry in God Calling (gift I received today) summed up what God must think. “I wait in many a heart, but so few retire into that inner place of the being to commune with me.”
Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still and know that I am God.” In the Hebrew “be still” is the idea of hearing someone without them even speaking. Have you ever heard someone’s heart? I have. It was during a time of crisis. Neither of us said a word but as we hugged, my heart heard her heart.
Remember the words listen and silent have the same letters. We need to be silent so that we can hear from Him. Too often in our quiet times you and I just jump right in with our petitions. The essence of being still is more of an opening of our heart to commune with Him. As this happens, we will desire more of Him and with that desire we will receive more of Him. Then we will have ears to hear. Like Samuel we can say, “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.” (1Samuel 3:10) We, too, will become more attentive in His presence and then be more willing to “plant” His truths in the garden of our hearts.
Remember the old hymn, “In the Garden?” It was my grandmother’s favorite and a standard at funerals. It’s what first came to mind this morning as I was reading Jesus Calling. I loved the analogy of comparing our hearts to a garden.
I come to the garden alone—solitude is great for reflection
While the dew is still on the roses---first thing in the morning is a good time to open your heart to hear from the Lord
And the voice I hear---His voice, though not audible, can be “heard” when we attune our hearts to His
Falling on my ear---silence aids listening
The Son of God disposes----not sure of the best verb definition here—maybe a combo says it best—He inclines me to be willing to see things from His perspective---putting His view in place in my heart thus settling matters (of the heart)
When I think of a garden, words like tranquil, serene and quiet seem to be descriptive of such a place. How about your/my heart? Could those adjectives be used for our hearts? How does one find that quietude necessary to hear the “still small voice.” We certainly have to be free of the gripping distractions of the world. A lot of us need practice in this area. As Corrie Ten Boom prays, “Father tune our ears to your still small voice…”
3/16 entry in God Calling (gift I received today) summed up what God must think. “I wait in many a heart, but so few retire into that inner place of the being to commune with me.”
Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still and know that I am God.” In the Hebrew “be still” is the idea of hearing someone without them even speaking. Have you ever heard someone’s heart? I have. It was during a time of crisis. Neither of us said a word but as we hugged, my heart heard her heart.
Remember the words listen and silent have the same letters. We need to be silent so that we can hear from Him. Too often in our quiet times you and I just jump right in with our petitions. The essence of being still is more of an opening of our heart to commune with Him. As this happens, we will desire more of Him and with that desire we will receive more of Him. Then we will have ears to hear. Like Samuel we can say, “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.” (1Samuel 3:10) We, too, will become more attentive in His presence and then be more willing to “plant” His truths in the garden of our hearts.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
avoiDANCE
4/1/09
I am a wuss—a real weakling when it comes to pain. I prefer no pain of any kind whether physical, mental or emotional. No pain no gain is my least favorite phase, especially in exercise. Sometimes my mental pain is self-inflicted from the stress that I wear when striving for perfection---usually at the last minute or in a crisis.
Emotional pain---that’s the biggie for me. I don’t like to have my feelings hurt. I don’t want to hurt someone else’s feelings either.
For many years, I tried to control this aspect of pain in my life by avoiding deep relationships. Give me lots of fun. Yes! Intimate moments. No!
avoiDANCE was my silent mantra. That tune I listened to in my head became the song I danced to in my life. You see, in the dance of avoiDANCE, you are in control or so you think. I became enveloped in this sin of self-protection. I didn’t even know that self-protection was a sin until my eyes were opened to the fact that putting self above God and others is indeed sin. God has created us for relationship—with Him and with others. Being self-protective, I built walls in relationships. I didn’t allow others to get too close for fear of rejection and more hurt. During those years, I choreographed my own dance---the avoiDANCE in each new relationship. That way, I felt safe and in control. My partner was just an extension of myself—so I was less likely to get “stepped on.”
In my relationship with the Lord there was a distance as well. I wanted all the rights of being His child with none of the responsibilities. I knew that God could use struggles to teach us truth but I preferred my daily quiet times and ministry opportunities that could be checked off a list---more of a routine and ritual rather than an intimate relationship with Him. I wanted Him on my terms. I wanted Him for blessings---those warm, fuzzy Hallmark happy ending kind. I didn’t know that God’s blessing embraced both pleasure and pain.
I no longer view pain in quite the same way---though I still struggle with the fear of it. As I sought to know Him better, He tore down my “self created” pedestal of loving others half way and esteeming people and their opinions of me more than His truth. Along with my fantasies of a perfect life, He threw out the remaining crumbles of those life supports that I had held too long. He replaced them with more of Himself and I began the season of abunDANCE with Him. I come that you (Dotsy) might have life and have it with abunDANCE. (John 10:10--a paraphrase) That avoiDANCE of Him or others is lonely and empty---a dance you do virtually alone. I prefer Dancing with Jesus.
Today’s Jesus Calling entry was the perfect reminder of all this. I can talk with Him about every “aspect of (my) day including feelings.” He created me as an emotional, relational being---one with feelings. It’s okay to “feel.” Don’t shut down emotions out of fear. “Do not let your to-do list (written or mental) become an idol directing your life.” Don’t let the fantasy of a perfect life creep back into your mindset. That unfound list for thank you notes is not the end of the world, Dotsy.
“Ask my Spirit to guide you moment by moment.” Sounds like an invitation to come back to the dance, doesn’t it?
Come back, Dotsy, He says again and again. Dance with Me. No avoiDANCE of time with Me is allowed. Remember----Our dance is one of abunDANCE.
I am a wuss—a real weakling when it comes to pain. I prefer no pain of any kind whether physical, mental or emotional. No pain no gain is my least favorite phase, especially in exercise. Sometimes my mental pain is self-inflicted from the stress that I wear when striving for perfection---usually at the last minute or in a crisis.
Emotional pain---that’s the biggie for me. I don’t like to have my feelings hurt. I don’t want to hurt someone else’s feelings either.
For many years, I tried to control this aspect of pain in my life by avoiding deep relationships. Give me lots of fun. Yes! Intimate moments. No!
avoiDANCE was my silent mantra. That tune I listened to in my head became the song I danced to in my life. You see, in the dance of avoiDANCE, you are in control or so you think. I became enveloped in this sin of self-protection. I didn’t even know that self-protection was a sin until my eyes were opened to the fact that putting self above God and others is indeed sin. God has created us for relationship—with Him and with others. Being self-protective, I built walls in relationships. I didn’t allow others to get too close for fear of rejection and more hurt. During those years, I choreographed my own dance---the avoiDANCE in each new relationship. That way, I felt safe and in control. My partner was just an extension of myself—so I was less likely to get “stepped on.”
In my relationship with the Lord there was a distance as well. I wanted all the rights of being His child with none of the responsibilities. I knew that God could use struggles to teach us truth but I preferred my daily quiet times and ministry opportunities that could be checked off a list---more of a routine and ritual rather than an intimate relationship with Him. I wanted Him on my terms. I wanted Him for blessings---those warm, fuzzy Hallmark happy ending kind. I didn’t know that God’s blessing embraced both pleasure and pain.
I no longer view pain in quite the same way---though I still struggle with the fear of it. As I sought to know Him better, He tore down my “self created” pedestal of loving others half way and esteeming people and their opinions of me more than His truth. Along with my fantasies of a perfect life, He threw out the remaining crumbles of those life supports that I had held too long. He replaced them with more of Himself and I began the season of abunDANCE with Him. I come that you (Dotsy) might have life and have it with abunDANCE. (John 10:10--a paraphrase) That avoiDANCE of Him or others is lonely and empty---a dance you do virtually alone. I prefer Dancing with Jesus.
Today’s Jesus Calling entry was the perfect reminder of all this. I can talk with Him about every “aspect of (my) day including feelings.” He created me as an emotional, relational being---one with feelings. It’s okay to “feel.” Don’t shut down emotions out of fear. “Do not let your to-do list (written or mental) become an idol directing your life.” Don’t let the fantasy of a perfect life creep back into your mindset. That unfound list for thank you notes is not the end of the world, Dotsy.
“Ask my Spirit to guide you moment by moment.” Sounds like an invitation to come back to the dance, doesn’t it?
Come back, Dotsy, He says again and again. Dance with Me. No avoiDANCE of time with Me is allowed. Remember----Our dance is one of abunDANCE.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Daffodils
3/31/09 "Daffodils"
Remember the Wordsworth poem when the poet “wandered lonely as a cloud” and came upon a “crowd…of golden daffodils?” They were fluttering and dancing (natch!) in the breeze---it seemed like 10,000 as those daffodils “tossed their heads in sprightly dance.”
Even the dancing waves couldn’t out do the daffodils.
My mother loved daffodils. Even as a youngster I knew when spring was coming because of the crocus, grape hyacinths and daffodils that began to bloom around our steps and walkways and how that thrilled Mother’s heart. I tried to add to that joy once by “raiding” Dr. Dade’s yard of his award winning King Alfred’s and proudly presenting these prize daffodils to her. The chagrin on her face was a big clue that my procurement, though well intended, was VERY inappropriate. “Young lady, you will take these back to Dr. Dade right this minute and tell him you’re sorry! Never take something that doesn’t belong to you. Do you understand me?” Not sure of her exact words, I just know that she didn’t monkey around with soothing my ego or worry about damaging my psyche----I just knew I’d better not ever do that again.
As I said, Mother loved daffodils. Actually, she, as her mother, (Mama Davenport) loved all flowers. It seemed we always had fresh flowers at 2211 South Virginia. I never remember her running out to the nursery to buy bulbs or plants----certainly no Lowe’s garden centers back then. I just remember that she exchanged Sweet William, pinks and other “slips” (plant cuttings) with her friends, especially those in the Tuesday Club. So, I grew up with hollyhocks as tall as I was, a cutting garden that produced baby’s breath, and a mom tolerant of a daughter with a brown thumb. My only interest was in wildflowers--may apple, trilliums and jack-in- the-pulpit, so she helped me nurture those under the big “messy” mulberry tree.
Last Sunday when we were in Kentucky, Larry drove Daddy and me out to Riverside Cemetery to “visit” Mother. The afternoon was gray and chilly almost dreary---not like the sunny mornings I spent watching Mother tend her flowers those many years ago. Even though there were limbs and scattered blossoms and even overturned pots that had been strewn about from the recent storm and hail, my focus was elsewhere. I saw two clumps of daffodils BLOOMING at Mother’s grave---the grave of a mother who put a houseful of love and family, friends, fun and fresh flowers “in her dash." (Remember the importance of that dash on one's gravestone----the only part of life a person controls!)
“Her children rise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her.” (Proverbs 31:28)
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils. (Wordsworth, 1804)
Remember the Wordsworth poem when the poet “wandered lonely as a cloud” and came upon a “crowd…of golden daffodils?” They were fluttering and dancing (natch!) in the breeze---it seemed like 10,000 as those daffodils “tossed their heads in sprightly dance.”
Even the dancing waves couldn’t out do the daffodils.
My mother loved daffodils. Even as a youngster I knew when spring was coming because of the crocus, grape hyacinths and daffodils that began to bloom around our steps and walkways and how that thrilled Mother’s heart. I tried to add to that joy once by “raiding” Dr. Dade’s yard of his award winning King Alfred’s and proudly presenting these prize daffodils to her. The chagrin on her face was a big clue that my procurement, though well intended, was VERY inappropriate. “Young lady, you will take these back to Dr. Dade right this minute and tell him you’re sorry! Never take something that doesn’t belong to you. Do you understand me?” Not sure of her exact words, I just know that she didn’t monkey around with soothing my ego or worry about damaging my psyche----I just knew I’d better not ever do that again.
As I said, Mother loved daffodils. Actually, she, as her mother, (Mama Davenport) loved all flowers. It seemed we always had fresh flowers at 2211 South Virginia. I never remember her running out to the nursery to buy bulbs or plants----certainly no Lowe’s garden centers back then. I just remember that she exchanged Sweet William, pinks and other “slips” (plant cuttings) with her friends, especially those in the Tuesday Club. So, I grew up with hollyhocks as tall as I was, a cutting garden that produced baby’s breath, and a mom tolerant of a daughter with a brown thumb. My only interest was in wildflowers--may apple, trilliums and jack-in- the-pulpit, so she helped me nurture those under the big “messy” mulberry tree.
Last Sunday when we were in Kentucky, Larry drove Daddy and me out to Riverside Cemetery to “visit” Mother. The afternoon was gray and chilly almost dreary---not like the sunny mornings I spent watching Mother tend her flowers those many years ago. Even though there were limbs and scattered blossoms and even overturned pots that had been strewn about from the recent storm and hail, my focus was elsewhere. I saw two clumps of daffodils BLOOMING at Mother’s grave---the grave of a mother who put a houseful of love and family, friends, fun and fresh flowers “in her dash." (Remember the importance of that dash on one's gravestone----the only part of life a person controls!)
“Her children rise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her.” (Proverbs 31:28)
Mildred Davenport Adams
12/10/22 - 8/13/01
These were not 10,000 golden daffodils as Wordsworth had seen, or any as spectacular as Dr. Dade’s, but these white daffodils were from MY yard----Mother thought green and white were cool and serene and were the only colors she ever had in the planters along the walkways at the front of our house. I had dug those bulbs last fall from around my front walk and carefully carried them to Kentucky to plant on either end of her headstone---just hoping they would make it. They did. Fresh flowers just like she likes----12/10/22 - 8/13/01
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils. (Wordsworth, 1804)
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