Are you ready?

 

Here we are: December 16th. Nine days away from Christmas!

“Are you ready?”

I’ve been hearing this question asked at the bank, at my work potluck, in line at the stores…It CRACKS me up!

Christmas comes the same time and date each year. Not like Easter, that one can mess you up. Christmas has been December 25th for about 2000 years. So, it’s not like we weren’t told about it in advance. How come people aren’t ready?

ANTICIPATION

One of the most tantalizing feelings this time of year is the anticipation leading up to this special day. I remember it well as a child.–The inability to get to sleep on December 24th. My heart beating so rapidly as the agonizing wait for 6 am (this was the absolute earliest my parents would allow for us to awake them!) and we had to bring them with us when we went downstairs to find out if all that “being good” in the weeks prior had put us on Santa’s NICE list —

SURPRISE-What did Santa bring you?

Unfortunately, one of the biggest surprises this time of year is the VOID.

Some face the VOID of celebrating their first (or second, or third…) Christmas without their loved one.

For others there’s the VOID felt in the bank account, leaving nothing for gifts.

Amidst all the beautiful lights, wreath adorned doors, the hustle and bustle and gatherings, there are those for whom this is NOT the most wonderful time of the year. 

I’ll never forget the surprise of my very first out of state Christmas working at Phoenix Police Department. I swallowed the lump in my throat after wishing “Merry Christmas” to family and friends far away as I clocked in for my overnight shift working the holiday. I fully expected the night to be filled with bookings from partying: DUI’s and noise violations from all the celebrating…

Surprise!

The most common arrests I saw that night were the domestic violence and family assaults.

Not everyone has a family they enjoy celebrating the holiday with. That Christmas felt like a “Reverse Grinch” moment happened to me as my heart cinched up and threatened to break.

My heart has these moments when I hear a parent threaten their overly rambunctious child, “Christmas is canceled this year!”

My heart breaks every Black Friday when I watch humanity crawl and punch their way to the front line for the door-busting deals.

My heart breaks when I see the VOID left in this world.

The only cure for this heart break and void is the VERY reason why I love this season and this time of the year.

No matter how dysfunctional your family may be, no matter how misbehaved your children are, no matter how empty your bank account is, you have available a reason to celebrate–the same reason the shepherds, three wise men and a young couple with nothing celebrated in a manger  2000 years ago.

Every year, I picture Linus in the Charlie Brown Christmas Special telling Charlie the TRUE meaning of Christmas:

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.

And the angel said unto them, “Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.”

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”
Luke 2:8-14 (KJV)

He came to heal the brokenhearted.  He fills the void. He is the very reason for the season. So, the real question is:

Are you ready for Him?

 

 

My Wish

I WISH…

 

genie

 

 

 

 

Besides MORE WISHES—if you could wish for anything, what would you wish for?

My new husband and I are training for our first triathlon together. We have our “we-enjoyed-way-too-much-on-our-honeymoon-bodies” and yet we squished into our swimwear and headed to the community pool for a lap swim/workout. It didn’t take long for our discontent to float to the surface:

 

ME, nodding toward the woman my age with golden brown skin and a Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition physique: “I wish I had arms like her.”

HIM, nodding toward the spandex laden Michael Phelps look-a-like: “Wow, he doesn’t need to be here. I wish I was in swim shape like that.”

If I could wish for anything, would I really wish for her arms?

And, besides more wishes, what would I really wish for?

We dip into our lanes and begin the work out. Trying not to drown in the monotony of swimming laps, I ponder my wish list–

Drops of water seep into my already fogging goggles.

Can’t wish for more wishes

I inhale chloriney pool water kicked up at me by my lap swimming partner.

Wish I didn’t commit to this triathlon

Despite the “foggles” and the splashes, I breathe deep and press on. I fall into the rhythm of the breath, the plunge, the strokes, the kicks, the breath and I withdraw into my wishes–

Any wish I wanted—anything??

I wish I could fly like a bird–especially when I am running, in the AZ heat, and my legs feel like bricks and my lungs are working like a black mule hiking up the Grand Canyon.–I wish I could take off and soar effortlessly through a trade wind with a light body, the sunshine on my shoulders, and the spectacular Kauai coastline stretched out before me, captivating me with the beauty of the sea in an eternal embrace of the pearly white sand shore.

And If I did get more wishes–I wish I had moves like Mick Jaggar—(Actually, I wish I had any moves at all.) To be able to dance so effortlessly that it looks like liquid beauty in motion; pure joy!

I wish I had more time in the day.

I wish I had the bank account of Oprah.

I wish I could diet like Christina Aguilera.

I wish I had one more day with my beloved grandparents and one more day with my dad.

I wish… I wish… I wish my pool workout was already done.

 

I think a lot of us spend a lot of time wishing for things that just aren’t going to happen.

Be careful what you wish for…

 

Or, wishing for things that they should really think twice about asking for!

-I have this friend who spends much of her time wishing for more time. She is miserable—what would more time do? More time to be miserable?

-I have this other friend who wishes she looked as beautiful as the friend who wishes for more time. But the “beautiful friend” doesn’t believe she is beautiful, so would the wish not work?

-I have another friend plagued with worries about money. Yet, she is more financially secure than the “beautiful friend” and “time wishing friend” and, really—more than 90% of the people I know. Yet, she wishes she could be more financially secure.

All this time spent wishing, I lose focus on what I have right in front of me (and in this pool workout, I might get kicked if I am not careful!).

 

A friend recently shared this poignant quote with me, “If I only had today, what I was grateful for yesterday, what would I have?”

 

All this wishing for impossible things is a thief that steals the moment, steals one’s ability to feel gratitude and steals away the appreciation of the everyday gifts that God provides faithfully.

 

Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out; you formed me in my mother’s womb.

I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking!

Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration—what a creation!

You know me inside and out, you know every bone in my body;

You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit, how I was sculpted from nothing into something.

Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth; all the stages of my life were spread out before you,

The days of my life all prepared before I’d even lived one day.

Psalm 139:14 The Message Bible
—

I conclude my pool workout and dry off my 40-something body as I watch all the wonderfully different shapes, sizes and ages enjoying this glorious refreshing pool. As my training has progressed and my age continues, I am coming to terms with the reality that, no matter how many laps I swim or “downward facing dog” poses I hold, I am going to battle the “40-something” underarm dance. And, maybe this is the only dance that I will be good at! 😉

 

I close my eyes and feel the Arizona heat warming me all around while I think back on that sea and that shore that I love in Hawaii; created by explosions throughout time and by a Creator who placed it all in motion–

Each of us is created uniquely beautiful by the ultimate Creator of all marvelous things-Isn’t it time we start believing this?

 

And we all have the same amount of time in the day. Wouldn’t it be better to appreciate every single minute we still have, so we soak up those minutes with the ones we love that we still have with us?

 

And each of us has the “financial security” that God will provide.

Jesus reminds us in Matthew 6:25, “That is why I tell you not to worry about everyday life—whether you have enough food and drink, or enough clothes to wear. Isn’t life more than food, and your body more than clothing? Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are?”

 

And now that I think about it; I don’t need to fly like a bird. I am far more valuable than that!

And, I don’t need a magic lamp or a genie to provide me with more wishes; I have just one wish:

I wish: Each and every one of you finds joy in living in the moment, peace with who you are, friendships lasting through hardships, love so deep you get lost in it, security in knowing Jesus and where you are headed, hope enough to get you through the tough stuff, kindness of strangers at just the right moment, faith in knowing there is purpose to it all, beauty of the simple things, and an appreciation of it all when it is everywhere around you, within you and right in front of you.

 

Now, tell me your wish.

 

EVIL FACEBOOK?

EVIL FACEBOOK?

Life is flying by! Like that saying about the toilet paper roll—“As it gets closer to the end, it goes by much faster!”

If you know me at all and are my “friend” or see anything I post or write about, I celebrate life! I try to soak up all the good stuff and share “Good News!” because…”Life hits you hard, Bro!”

Summer is winding down, school is back in session and life is busy! It is only 118 days until Christmas!–Life can turn into a constant doledrum (if you let it) and the good stuff gets pushed aside.

Guilty! Here is my typical day: get up, post Tweet on Twitter, exercise, check e-mail and Facebook, go to work, check Facebook, lunch, play a word on Words with Friends, check Facebook, back to work, check Facebook, drive home, make dinner, check Facebook…You get my point. I rarely have time to pencil in lunch with an old friend, a lengthy conversation with my mom, the car breaking down, taking my new husband to work, let alone the doctor appointment for that lump that hasn’t gone away…

Sometimes life is just about getting back to the simpler things. Unplug for a moment. Go and sit on a park bench and enjoy the cool breeze. Or, if you’re like me and you live in the desert (and it’s still summer here!), go sit in front of or under a fan and enjoy that sensation.

Like being hypnotized by the stripes on the freeway when driving a long journey, I find it mesmerizing to watch a fan in action; the symmetry of its cylindrical rotations, the control I have over it, the soothing white noise it creates, the refreshing movement of the air in my surroundings.

Try it and tell me what you observe…

 

 

Whirring Fan

“Because I am happy does not mean that everything is perfect. It means I choose to look beyond the imperfections of life.”

 

– I saw this quote/ book on Facebook and it resonated with me.

 

FACEBOOK can get a bad rap. I’ve heard many people tell of how “Facebook ruined my marriage” or, “I just don’t have the time,” or, “I don’t get on there because I know it isn’t real—it’s just everyone’s “highlight reel!”

I also know that some people post waaaay too much information; and that can be dangerous.

I confess, I didn’t do FACEBOOK for many years and I had a list of my own reasons, including some of the above.

I heard that the creators of Facebook initially had a “thumbs down button,” but then they removed it. That got me thinking about the intent and motives of the creators of this popular social media platform.

 

But I still have questions-

Why a “like” button and not a “LOVE” button?

Facebook –It does have its limitations.

But does Facebook really ruin marriages? Or was the marriage already in trouble?

Do “Facebook people” posting a highlight reel have better lives than you? Or is the thief called comparison stealing your joy?

Of course, be careful of what you “put out there.” This life may be temporary, but the internet is forever! 😉 😉

–—

Mid-monsoon summer heat is in full force here in Arizona.

In this sticky and exhausting heat everything turns indoors. I “unplugged” and sat mesmerized in the coolest part of the house and stared up at the fan whirring hypnotically overhead. I remembered back to childhood when I used to love to yell into a spinning fan to feel the simple joy of my voice reverberating through the blades. Lost in my reverie of simpler times, I have to blink my eyes so they don’t dry up and pop out of their sockets; and I am struck by what I can see in the fan when I do this—

It’s as if I can stop the fan with the power of a BLINK!

I think about those people posting good stuff on Facebook’s–those “highlight reels”

Isn’t life a bit like this? A succession of events that whir by us so quickly that often we don’t see that it is made up of lots of individual “snapshots” of significance.

Without those individual parts, the power wouldn’t be so strong or able to push the air from the vaulted ceiling to reach me all the way at the bottom.

But life stops for no one. We don’t have the power to blink away earthquakes, tornadoes or tsunamis. When we are paralyzed by the devastation of a divorce, or a loved one’s death, or a diagnosis, or depression—no matter how much we blink or how loud we yell into the whir—it just keeps on.

Sometimes the posts I see on FACEBOOK haunt me—heartbreak, divorces, family illness and tragedies all shared at the arm’s length of social media.

And also there is such beauty shared; artistry, new beginnings, celebrations and stories of triumph that jolt me out of my depths.

Maybe FACEBOOK is simply the snapshots that people think will reach others? Maybe FACEBOOK is just a bunch of noise trying to be heard beyond the whir of life?

It isn’t perfect and we all know that each and every person who posts on FACEBOOK isn’t either. Not a single one.

But what if the power of the story, picture, post or whatever it is, truly reaches someone in need? We’ve all witnessed the power of FACEBOOK in creating awareness of ALS…What if a post impacts someone’s life in such a way that it reaches them at “their bottom” and brings them a little coolness, refreshment or hope? Or maybe just an ice bucket poured over their head?!

Isn’t that the idea behind FACEBOOK? That we would share? That we would “like?” That we would reveal stories and interact with each other in a way that today’s technological society that has embraced and which has become the norm? That a difference could be made, if even for just one person?

 

 

 

 

 

If you are one of those who is against “EVIL FACEBOOK” or who hasn’t embraced technology (this is me and was me fully just over a year ago!) it doesn’t have to be FACEBOOK (or Twitter, or Instagram, or Pinterest or e-mail, or ANY social media for that matter!)

Maybe what you are doing right where you are–experiencing that snapshot in life: the tragedy, the illness, the new life or new beginning– Maybe someone needs to hear your whir?

Reaching out

 

“He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.” 2 Corinthians 1:4

 

Maybe someone needs to lean on your shoulder; feel your hand reaching out (not to press the “like” button!) but to be helped up! Maybe someone simply needs to hear an encouraging word, smile, or story and to feel the refreshing breeze of hope that rushes through a soul when you realize you are not alone in your struggle.

Maybe you need to SHARE your story to witness to someone who has gone before you and will help guide you through.

“I will go before you and make the rough places smooth…” Isaiah 45:2

You don’t need to have access to a “LIKE” button to go out in the world and share a little love.

And to that I say–

 

LIKE!

 

Please share! 😉

This is gonna hurt like…

THIS IS GONNA HURT…

“Hold on…Hold on to yourself. For this is gonna hurt like hell.”–Sarah Mclachlan

Two things you should know about me:

I LOVE to RUN

My day isn’t quite right if I miss out on my daily run. My thinking is foggy. My heart doesn’t beat as strong. My legs don’t hold me as upright. And if something comes to knock me out of balance, it is much easier to do when I haven’t had my run for the day.

And

I LOVE JESUS

I desire to live a life honoring God. I try to reflect the love of Jesus in what I do, how I live, how I treat others and in my heart. If I miss out on my time with the Lord, my thinking is foggy, my heart is weak, my walk is not upright and I am very easily knocked out of balance.

These two things are so entwined, interlocked and ingrained in the fibers of my life. My running time is often my time with the Lord; it is when I pray, seek and ask.  My time with the Lord is what keeps me running in this race of life.

—

“I’m not sick. I’m not sick. I’m not sick.”

It was the start of my weekend and I had lots of plans. I breathed deep and felt the gravelly, wheezy heaviness in my chest. I cleared my throat and began my mantra again, “I’m not sick. I’m not sick. I’m not sick.”

And as my weekend of denial progressed, the coughing began; the inability to breathe through the heaviness in my chest ended my restful nights and …

I got sick.

I hate getting sick because I know if I get out of my running regimen beyond two weeks, I have to start all over re-activating my cardio level, opening my lungs’ passageways and rebuilding atrophied muscles. The months of hard work, hills, interval training and hours pounding the pavement and in two short weeks of illness it’s flushed down the toilet.

So I fought it. Besides quoting my mantra of “not being sick,” I pushed through to keep my lungs open; I jogged, hiked and walked.

I got sicker.

It’s going around.

If you haven’t gotten it, you probably will. Your co-workers, friends and the seemingly harmless (yet, sneezing) 67 year old lady in seat 14D will ensure your immune system gets to partake in this.

Bedridden and nursing myself back with rest and fluids, I had to let go and realized a few things–

Coming back from illness is tough. Regaining wholeness and health is always an ongoing journey, and the next time I strapped on my running shoes—

–it was going to hurt like hell.

 

—

We live in a world steeped with sickness.

Sin, like an infection, is rampant in our world. If you are free from it now, you will catch it sooner or later. (We all fall short and we all will fall ill). And, if you are healthy, upright and steadfast, you will still teeter toward temptation. Worldly illnesses like selfishness, lying, envy, pride, hatred, bitterness, anger are just a few of the beastly infections we will face.

So how do you prepare? How do you fight them off? Even Olympic trained runners end up injured, even the healthiest of us will end up falling ill from time to time.

If we take a lesson from our bodies; we have to let go, we have to take time to rest, and we must realize we need help at times from a source other than ourselves.

Jesus, The Great Physician, came to heal the sick.

On hearing this, Jesus said to them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.” (Mark 2:17)

If it’s a deep rooted illness–(an on-going addiction, a dangerous dance with drugs, a penchant toward pornography,) or whatever your struggle is–STOP.

Continuing on in that same sick (sinful) direction brings worse repercussions. It will lengthen your “illness.” By not allowing grace into those broken places in our lives, we stretch out our pain and suffering.

Quit doing what you are doing.

To repent simply means to turn…So turn around–Let the HEALER examine your heart and prepare your spirit, cause this is gonna hurt like…

“I came to realize that spirit, as much or more than physical conditioning, had to be stored up before a race.”-Herb Elliott, Olympic champion and world record holder in the mile.

—

As my physical condition was deteriorating, I built upon my spiritual conditioning.

What I desire is the freedom to breathe in the forgiveness, the hope of redemption and the power of Christ. His mercy through our “illnesses” allows a new direction. This turning and allowing a Healer’s guidance brings new strength to face the path set out before us.

 

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.  Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (James 1:2-4)

 

As I strap back on my running shoes, I take a deep breath. All that sitting, resting and re-hydrating as I was recovering will make my next few weeks tougher to push through what has built up in my lungs, my heart and my body. But I press on, because I know health and wholeness can be obtained again. My Healer will reward my repentance. My Healer will help me push through difficulties and rebuild me for the next time.

And I am assured that there will be a next time. –

“In this world you will have trouble.” (John 16:33)

So, as I continue in His direction, running this race, I know I will be more prepared to handle stumbling blocks and more able to battle future illnesses. I awaken my vision so I may know where to turn around when I get lost, and I find my hope in knowing that there is nothing in this world that  can come against me that, with the power of Christ in me, I cannot face.

May you be encouraged as you run your race.

“I have not achieved it, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead. I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us.”  (Philippians 3:14)

 

May you find renewed strength as you face your own obstacles and illness and, may you always find rest and healing on your journey.

Merry Christmas

So this is Christmas.

We spent the last three days driving anywhere between 25 and 85 m.p.h. as we maneuvered my 4 cylinder Toyota, fully loaded with presents and baggage, from sunny Arizona through drought-brown hills of California toward our destination—Vancouver, Washington for Christmas. As my furry kids (two kitties) curl up beneath my bare tree in Arizona with only my cat sitter (and lovely friend!) for company, I realize this is the first Christmas in years and years that I have not been “home” in Colorado to celebrate.

My eyes brim and my heart clinches a little.

I keep the shrinking “Grinch” heart at bay.

I think back on the events leading up to our road adventure on this marvelous holiday and feel so blessed. The lovely Thanksgiving with family and the visits from family and the friends we have celebrated with already. Gifts and good-tidings; celebrations and holiday parties, home-made treats and cups of cheer overflowing—Christmas is the best time of year!

Then there is the Post Office…I don’t EVER wait until days before Christmas to mail, (nor do I recommend this!) but I had a little book-give-away to deliver and had a VERY close call with a “Grinch” in the parking lot just days before our departure. He almost stole my joy.

But I know what Christmas is.

I was leaving my two hour post office escapade, (heart determined to be kind to all who were braving this holiday faux pas,) when a gentleman just beginning his adventure, nearly swiped my bumper. He laid on his horn to get parked in an open space 2.4 seconds sooner than if he would’ve waited for me to inch forward behind the two grey-haired drivers I followed out. All this so he could arrive those 2.4 seconds earlier in into the two hour line in the lobby that awaited him.

My “Grinch” heart shrunk a little as I thought of several choice Christmas carols I’d like to yell at him: “Oh Holy–”

But I know what Christmas is.

I breathed deep and forgave him, knowing the lengths of enjoyment that lay before him with a “honking attitude” like he harbored.

—

Torrents of rain the night before we left awakened us through the night. We looked forward to grabbing our hot Dunkin’ Donut’s coffee before hitting the road. Avoiding the 15 car drive-thru line, we hoofed it to the entrance. On our way out, we fell silent passing an unkempt man wearing shorts and a light coat, holding a small grocery bag and seeking shelter out of the rain. My heart clinched and I pushed my sunglasses higher on my nose.

I think I know what Christmas is.

We still departed on our journey, but feeling pretty heavy–discovering he had spent the rain-drenched night outside. We left him with some home baked zucchini bread and money.

We ran out of clean clothes along the way, slept on some seriously rock hard mattresses and ate one-too-many continental breakfasts, but we are so blessed with what we have.

We think we know what Christmas is.

—

Though I am not with my family or at my “home,” I prepare to spend this blessed holiday with my fiancés family. Months ago, I planned a surprise for him. Before our Christmas Eve stop, I arranged for a “starter tree” to greet us and a few sparkling ornaments with which to decorate it. The look of surprise and wonder on his face at the discovery was equal to any child’s on Christmas day! It was pure wonderful!

I am feeling Christmas again.

And, as we prepare to hit the road again; washing our underwear, unpacking and re-packing, wrapping packages late into Christmas Eve, I know Christmas is MORE than family, sparkling decorations, packages and surprises from a jolly, fat, red-suited man.

I think of other travelers, long ago, who were “displaced” from their homes on this magical night.

No grouchy, horn-blowing Grinch can take Christmas from me. Those long ago travelers brought a gift to me and to all who believe.

I know what Christmas is.

The Charlie Brown’s Christmas special is one of my all-time fave’s. Linus wraps up nicely exactly what Christmas is…
Charlie Brown: Isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?

Linus Van Pelt: Sure, Charlie Brown, I can tell you what Christmas is all about.

[moves toward the center of the stage]

Linus Van Pelt: Lights, please.

[a spotlight shines on Linus]

Linus Van Pelt: “And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, ‘Fear not: for behold, I bring unto you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.'”

[Linus picks up his blanket and walks back towards Charlie Brown]

Linus Van Pelt: That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.

(from www.imdb.com Charlie Brown Christmas Quotes)

 

For the horn- blower, for the Grinch, for the Dunkin-Donut’s rain man, for all people on all the earth–

–Wishing you all a magical and Merry Christmas, where ever you are!

 

LOST

LOST

“Feeling my way through the darkness.

Guided by a beating heart…” –Avicii

I have a good (and unique!) friend who enjoys getting lost. Despite having GPS in her vehicle, she goes it on her own and considers getting lost an adventure! She savors finding undiscovered places she normally wouldn’t.

Me…not-so-much. I LOATHE getting lost. I have ZERO sense of direction. I plan ahead with maps and detailed turn-by-turn instructions because I get turned around and discombobulated very easily.

When I first moved to Phoenix, without my Rocky Mountains to direct me, I experienced this very thing.

Returning from a road trip to Lake Powell, I got lost for hours, in the dark, on the unfamiliar streets of Phoenix.  With no landmarks to direct me and no light to see by; I had no point of reference. I completely panicked.

I knew I was lost and hated every minute of it.

The tears began brimming. My breathing accelerated. My heart went wild. My brain locked up…

Hours later, when I eventually followed the right road signs, I pulled into my neighborhood as the gas gauge danced around “E.”   My blood pressure steadied, my tears dried up and, in the comfort of my apartment as I studied a map, I discovered my error. Compelled by fear and repeatedly making wrong choices, I actually drove in circles for those hours.

“We do the best by the light we have to see by.”—Julie Cameron

—

Something about the vast amount of trees, rain and places to lose yourself in northern Oregon reminds me a little of The Shack and Deliverance.

And, yes, one chilly, rainy, foggy day my fiancé and I decided to take a long run in northern Oregon. Since he was from those parts, (even though he hadn’t been back in years,) I trusted his proclamations that he knew where he was going.

The adventure began.

About an hour into the run, we got low on water. Amidst mossy back roads, gargantuan trees and a fog that hung down on us as a storm pressed in–

We got lost.

No, we didn’t hear banjos, but it got a bit precarious.

At one point we came into a clearing. We crossed the expanse and approached an ominous, brick building that looked like a modern day castle. We rounded the “castle” and, just as it began to rain harder, our hope ignited as we came upon the first person we had seen in miles.

She was crouched low, sitting on a curb by some large green dumpsters and her thin fingers held a burning cigarette with a long, dangling ash about to drop. As we approached her, in high hopes of asking where the heck we were, something stopped us.

She didn’t move.

As we got closer, her pale skin and statuesque figure seemed like an illusion. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the splashing of our running shoes, our gasps of breaths and she was completely oblivious to the rain that fell harder all around us. She was wearing a grey sweater that hung on her, leggings that clung to her bone-thin legs and flip flops. She also wore a men’s ball cap that hid her face and mostly covered the long brown locks of hair that escaped just below the plastic rim. Empty eyes stared straight ahead. She took a long drag on that cigarette.

Feeling quite out of place and with the panic of our predicament oozing out of our pores, how did she not sense us?

But she didn’t.

She looked right through us.

I choke up when I think of the look of pain in her. Something we couldn’t see had a hold on this woman.

She was lost.

Regardless of the increasing rain, our mounting thirst and our growing anxiety, neither of us said a word as we quieted our steps and passed by her. The rain gushed through the gutters and over her feet and, as I looked back at her one last time, she looked up.

We rounded the other side of the “castle” into another clearing and noticed the landscape here was dotted with small signs.

Approaching the first sign it read:

“God grant me the serenity to accept the things that I can’t change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

We continued on; looking for direction in the next sign about 200 yards further. It read: “Step one: We admit that we are powerless over our addiction and our lives have become unmanageable.”

Both our jaws dropped. We looked at each other and then back at the “castle” then sprinted back to the opening in the fence that brought us here.  On our way out, we passed two more signs.

One read: “ABSOLUTELY NO TRESPASSING”

And another that read:

“A power greater than ourselves can restore us to sanity.”

—

About two miles later, the rain lightened and we found ourselves on the campus of George Fox University. We also found refreshment and relief.

Breathing deep and trudging our legs a few more miles back to home base, we both were haunted by the invisible chains we saw weighing down this young lady’s soul.

“I once was lost, But now am found.

Was blind, But now I see.” –Amazing Grace

I often think of that young lady.

What happened to her? What were her struggles? Could we have said anything to her that could’ve encouraged her? Something we could’ve done that might’ve helped her find her way?

And yet, I know there was a time when I wasn’t “found.”– Well meaning words from friends and strangers alike fell on deaf ears.

“All this time I was finding myself…

And I didn’t know I was lost.” – Avicii

Yet, I admitted I was utterly powerless to change my “directional dysfunctionality;”

I sought a guide for my journey;

“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.”For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.…” (Matthew 7:7)

And now I am found.–I know where I am, where I am going and Who I follow to get me through.

In Jesus, I found a guiding light of Hope to direct me through the darkness.

And though I will still get off the beaten path and won’t always make the right choices; because I know The Way, I will never be lost again.

So, wherever you find yourself along this journey, may you discover enough courage to seek, to find and to look up in the storms of life.

THANKSGIVING, FOOTBALL and THE GREATEST FAN!

Best Fans EVER!

Nothing says Thanksgiving like….FOOTBALL!!!!
(Except maybe Turkey, and Black Friday, and food coma, and family, and stuffing, and pumpkin pie…) But still, what better to do than to plop down in front of the t.v. after being stuffed with turkey, shopping ‘til you dropped and just “chillax” in front of a great football game?!
Love football?
I believe Denver Bronco’s fans are some of the VERY BEST FANS of all time.
Are you a fan? What does this look like?
How about:
You’ve had season tickets for 17 years.
You attend EVERY home game, rain, snow, sleet or shine (and sometimes all of the above on the same day—it is Colorado!.
You bleed orange and blue.
The original bronco emblem is tattooed on your left ankle.
The new bronco symbol is tattooed on your right shoulder.
Every game day you are fully decked out: the orange and blue jersey, orange face paint, foam finger, etc.
You cite Bronco’s stats like a wall street ticker.
Your dog’s name is Elway.
You serve only blue and orange foods at your house party for the away games.
You cried and fell into a depression for weeks after Dan Reeves was let go.
Game day you are cheering and screaming for each pass completion, touchdown, extra point and interception. You yell at the television like you were there. You have been known to invent words in your tirades against the ref’s poor calls.

Now picture being that same Bronco fan (fully decked out and on one of your historic rants) in a stadium of the most avid, amped up (and also fully decked out) Raider’s fans (or Patriots!;)). Black and white tattooed arms thicker than tree trunks surround you. You are all by yourself. And the score is 52 to 3. Broncos are losing.

Still a fan?

I think this is where that saying about “where the rubber meets the road” comes from.
Will you roll up your sleeves to display your tattoo? Still ready to defend your team, even when they’ve left the stadium and you alone remain? Are you really ready to bleed and find out if it’s truly orange and blue?
—
Now Picture:
You love Jesus. You attend every Sunday service (unless there is a Bronco’s game-Thank GOD for Saturday services!) You tithe your 10%, volunteer at the homeless shelter, attend bible study and can recite specific bible verses at the drop of a hat. You raise your hands in praise during every worship song, pray for your enemies, love your neighbor and have that icthus (the fish) bumper sticker firmly affixed to your Ford.

Now, take away your comforts, your finances, your marriage of 50 years, your career, your health, your family.

Still His fan?

When you’ve lost it all, will your heart fill with doubts? When the nay-sayers and well-meaning friends ask what you’ve done to deserve this, will you question His sovereignty? Will your mind spill over with unanswerable questions: “Why?” “Why me?”

Why do bad things happen to good people?

For many a heartache and wound that I have survived, I am able to look back and thank God for His growing me in those times. It’s those very same rough times when my relationship with Jesus grew deeper and more intimate. I can often look back and see a purpose to those pains and, in that “20/20 hindsight,” I can find some answers.

When I can’t, I rely on Proverbs 3:5-6:
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.”

But why do innocent suffer? Why does evil often go unpunished?

Although I don’t have answers to many of these tough questions, I know One who does. I know that He will not waste a single tear and I rest my hope in the fact:
“…that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

God can handle your questions. And it may not be until you see Him face to face that you will have your “20/20 vision” and answers. So, until then, know that nothing can separate you from the love of God–
“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38)

“Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good. His love endures forever.” Psalm 136:1

In losses, in pain, in heartbreaks, in failures and disappointments, in any circumstance from the beginning until the end: His love endures.

He is your biggest Fan.

UNIQUE

CREATING YOU UNIQUE

Cooking shows have been around for years (like Julia Childs) and continue to grow in their popularity. Now, not only can you find them on the Food Network and cable channels, but prime time has hosted Master Chef, Hell’s Kitchen, The Taste and many more!

I love watching a master create a fabulous feast by utilizing everyday kitchen ingredients — like my mom at Thanksgiving ;). Sometimes these Master Chefs use the kitchen tools and gadgets only found in specialty stores, or an ingredient I have never heard of, but my favorite is when the creation is crafted from the mundane.

Isn’t that what creativity is about? Picking and choosing from the ordinary and, by someone’s special talent, gift or touch, morphing it into the extraordinary?!

…….

I was amped up from a day of pumpkin spice lattes and couldn’t get to sleep. I got to thinking how cooking parallels writing. A good writer can utilize the everyday mundane events, filter it through their perception and out oozes one of two things:

1)     A sumptuous, smooth, creamy concoction worthy of topping William and Kate’s wedding cake

OR, quite possibly,

2)     A travesty to the taste buds worthy only of “decorating” the nearest lawn as the latest fertilizer! (Get my drift?) Pee-ee you!

You win some, you lose some.

Yet, both serve a purpose. And #2 -no pun intended- very likely could’ve turned out to be the most fabulous fertilizer known to man!

—–

Whether your creation is cooking, painting, writing, decorating, building, acting, speaking, dancing, singing, parenting, managing or whatever-ing—There is only ONE YOU.

Your filters: your past, your life events, your perceptions, experiences and what makes up you, are completely and utterly unique to YOU.

You are one of a kind.

“You knit me together in my mother’s womb…I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:13,14)

That always amazes me. The ultimate Craftsman, Creator and Master took the everyday ingredients of flesh and bone, hair, skin and cells and He creates a masterpiece each and every time. Something so diverse, there will never be another.

I work in the Identification Unit. Fingerprints are utilized to identify individuals because science has shown them to be unique and permanent.

Their genesis is in the womb and they persist past death.

They identify you as His unique creation.

Each and every fingerprint found on your hands (and feet) is absolutely unique. There never has been another with the same fingerprints and there never will be another, EVER, with the same.

That kind of creativity blows my mind.

I don’t know about you, but I struggle most nights with finding something new to throw together for dinner and often end up making the same old thing. Yet, our Creator never struggles. We are marked as His unique creation before we are born, created with grace and divinely unique through (and beyond) our death. A divine masterpiece each and every time!

“For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:10)

So, whatever good works you were created for, my hope is that you recognize your uniqueness; you embrace YOU and all that went into you as a special creation.

And, like Kathryn Stockett from the movie The Help so beautifully put it, “You is kind. You is smart. You is important.”

And, I would add, you is Unique!

 

 

WHEN I DIE

It is hard to deny the power of music. How a song can take you back to an event, stir memories, sometimes even bring on the very emotions you felt the first time you heard it… I still get teary every time I hear Pearl Jam’s “Just Breathe;”—not so much in the lyrics, but because it was popular right after my father passed away and it has been forever linked with that emotion in me.
I love all types of music. I have gone through various “music stages” in my life. Starting with the 80’s big hair bands, (one of my fondest memories is of a WhiteSnake reunion concert); to the head banger “angry music,” (I got backstage to meet and greet Disturbed); then alternative, (I won concert tickets three times in a row to Three Doors Down); and country music, (“Bubba Shot the Jukebox” got me through two marathons trying to memorize the words.) –I love all genres of music. Lately I am into the Christian music and pretty much anything K-LOVE plays.
Each of the five parts of my book “grace” begins with a snippet of lyrics from artists that created rhythms, lyrics and messages that were themes throughout the novel. I encourage you to find the songs on iTunes and take a listen before delving into each part.
One of these songs is titled “In Better Hands” by Natalie Grant. The song has been so powerful in my life and every time she sings the following lyrics I get goose bumps:
“It’s like the sun is shining when the rain is pouring down
It’s like my soul is flying though my feet are one the ground
It’s like the world is silent though I know it isn’t true
It’s like the breath of Jesus is right here in this room”
I know this is going to sound a bit morbid, but stick with me on this—When I die, I want this song to be played at my funeral. –I know where I am going. I know I will be with Jesus when I no longer walk this earth. I want those who would come to memorialize me to not worry but to feel the “breath of Jesus” as He whispers in their ear–telling them that I am okay—that He’s got me. And what better hands to be in than those of the One who fearfully and wonderfully created me in my mother’s womb?
So, I figure I should let someone in my family know, right? It is no fun to not know the last wishes of someone you love when you are left with the task of memorializing them. I learned that the hard way.
So, I told my mother.
She shot me down.
She told me (over the phone, but I could visualize her wagging her finger at me and shaking her head), “You had better go telling someone else that wish because there is no way in hell, I want to bury you before you have to bury me!” (That is a paraphrase, but real close to accurate.)
Not that she has a choice in this—when it is our time, well, it is our time. Only God has the power over death. And, with God, through Jesus, we have assurance of eternity with Him. And this idea of eternity (I’ll spare you all the clever ways people have described to grasp the concept) is a really, really, really, really, really, really, REALLY long time.
I know too many friends and loved ones who are parents and have had to bury their child. (Frankly, knowing even ONE is too many). This crazy resurgence of heroine and overdoses that occur with even just one try of this drug, suicides, accidents, hit & runs, domestic abuses, drunk driving, okay—As Justin Timberlake sings, “Are you feeling me?”
Often all that is left is a gaping hole—a void—such loss and despair that each day is a desperate challenge to find hope to carry-on.
The “Why?” goes unanswered like wishing on a penny dropped into a bottomless well.
But this bottomless well doesn’t have to go on for eternity.
Revelation 21:4 says, “He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” Forever.
I know this still doesn’t answer the “Why?” but I have found temporary peace in this temporary life believing there is a place where all the questions are answered-no pain, no sorrow, no death and, to quote the powerful words of Mercy Me, “In Christ there are no good-byes.”
So, when I die, please honor this wish of mine (and for my mom.)
And mom, put that finger down because I think you are off the hook 😉

CHOSEN

What a terrible feeling—to not be chosen…or worse yet, to be chosen last. I have flashbacks here of 3rd grade gym class and “dodge ball” day in the auditorium—the choosing of the teams. No one wants to be chosen last. Whether it is true or not, the person choosing thinks you’re too slow, not athletic enough, not good enough or simply that there is another one better than you. Those chosen last are the “runts” of the team.
My Uncle Marty is a great story teller. At family gatherings we all end up at the kitchen table captivated by his unbelievable stories.
But his stories are true.
He allowed me to use one of his stories about his first dog, Corky, in my book “grace.” The characters in the book are fiction, but the event captured in the book is true. –Corky was his first dog. She was specially bred to be a hunting dog. Regardless of how special and well bred of a line she came from, she was nonetheless, the runt. Her faults were being born last and her silky black coat was not quite perfect – a tiny bit of white tarnished her.
But my uncle chose her – flaws and all.
He became her master. Under his careful guidance, instruction, training and discipline, she excelled. She outperformed some of the most highly bred and trained hunting dogs; undoubtedly out-doing all her siblings. She was truly a “one-in-a-million.” She made spectacular retrievals and underwent some extremely difficult hunts, all under the direction and supervision of her master who was always prepared to step in if she got into trouble.
When you saw them together, their bond was heartwarming and enough to spark a little jealousy; she never took her eyes off of him–unless he gave her a command. Oh, how he loved that dog and how that dog adored and obeyed him. It was really something to witness.
And yet, with God, we all have this same opportunity. To be “chosen;” to excel under the careful guidance and wisdom of the One who will be there when we get ourselves into trouble. At times, He will even discipline us, but He will find us when we are lost, guide us when we stumble and, when we keep our eyes on Him, He will direct us and show us the way.
John 15:16 and Ephesians 1:4 in the Bible remind us that it is HIM who chooses us and not the other way around. He doesn’t think we are too slow, not good enough or the “runts,” even if we are born last or fall short, He still chose us.
Flaws and all, we are CHOSEN.
And under the guidance, discipline and love of the Creator of the Universe, the One who breathed the stars into existence and the One who knows every hair on our heads, we can excel and become the one-in-a million.