Calisthenics

I grew up in the era of Jack LaLanne. I would watch him all the time as a child growing up. There he’d be next to his chair in his dark, taught work-out outfit; long pants mind you, no Richard Simmons-type shorts in those days, coaching me through simple calisthenic exercises. He’d get the viewer involved in jumping jacks, sit-ups, knee bends, push-ups and all kinds of things.

I really like Jack, I’m just not built for his line of work. I am not a graceful person. I’m lanky and long and rather clumsy. When I jog I cramp in all the places a person can cramp – sides, thighs, calves, even feet. When I ride my bike my lungs go on strike. You’d think I was a 5-pack a-day smoker for how often I have to stop and catch my breath some days. As for pull-ups and push-ups if I get past two or three someone get me a Gold medal.

I wasn’t always like this. In high school I was on the varsity basketball team. Mind you I was not first string, I hadn’t hit my growth spurt yet, but I was out there every practice and every game giving it my best. I played softball growing up too. While I never could hit the ball out of the park I was a darn good catcher and left fielder. Almost caught a fly ball for an out once. Swimming, though, was my real forte’ growing up and I have lots of third and fourth place ribbons to prove it.

As we can all see, I have no real sporting skills. I never have. But what I lacked in skill I more than made up for in desire. I was there at every practice for my soccer, softball, and basketball or swim team. To me the end result of winning was important but also as important as was the companionship and camaraderie of being on a team. Of pursuing a common goal, trying to accomplish something together.

As I grew up exercise no longer came in the form of fun group, team activities. Exercise for adults is mostly a solo affair. And solo exercise is boring exercise. What made exercising with Jack LaLanne on TV fun was Jack LaLanne. You didn’t feel like you were by yourself. That’s why people join gyms, so they don’t have to exercise alone. That’s also why people who buy home exercise equipment find they use it more for a clothes rack than a treadmill – it’s too boring to run indoors alone.

Somewhere along the way I simply stopped exercising in any systematic way. And that’s not good. Exercise is good for the body as well as the heart, mind and spirit. I do feel so much better after I exercise, even just a little exercise. So I made a New Year’s resolution. I resolved in the New Year to exercise every day. I am here to report so far so good.

Things have been going so well that I pumped it up a notch and I now exercise twice every day. It is fabulous and has had a profound change on my body, heart, mind and spirit.

Every morning, first thing, before I get dressed, before I turn on the news, before I let out the dog, before I have coffee I do my first exercise of the day – one deep knee bend. Some mornings the knee bend is quick, just a minute or two. Some mornings it’s a little longer. Whatever is required to give my body, heart, mind and spirit the exercise it needs that morning. Mostly, it is a moment to give praise for the day ahead.

At bed time, after I’ve closed down the house, finished playing with my animals and turned off the lights I do my last exercise routine of the day – one last deep knee bend. Again it may be a quick minute or two or a little longer depending on the events of the day and the needs of my heart, mind and spirit. Mostly, this is a time to say Thank You for the day I was just given.

The thing I like best is I don’t do my exercises alone. I have an Exercise Partner, sort of a Jack LaLanne type, with me guiding me, listening to me, encouraging me and just being with me while I’m doing my deep knee bends. Afterwards, during my cool-down and throughout the rest of the day or night my Exercise Partner is still with me.

And it doesn't matter how long I do my deep knee bends or what I say when I'm doing it. The important thing to my Exercise Partner is that I try, that I have the desire to spend just a bit of my day with Him before things get going and again at the close of the day I pause to reconnect. It's the intent that matters most, not the form. Which is great for a clumsy girl like me.

Exercising with my Partner is wonderful. It helps me to feel as if I’m back on a team working towards a common purpose or goal. Which in a way I am. My outlook is brighter; my heart is lighter; I walk taller and straighter; my gaze is higher and no longer downward.

Doing these deep knee bends every day, giving praise and thanks, helps me realize I’m not alone, it’s not me against the world. I have a Partner who is with me every step of the way. And that step starts with the first one I take in the morning and doesn’t stop even as I take my last as I climb into bed.

Exercise – turns out the simpler the better. Jack would be so proud.
~

Party Crasher

I consider myself to be quite a good hostess. I always try to put my best foot forward and make my guests feel right at home. I don’t throw a lot of parties but when I do they are usually something special.

I only have a couple of party rules – show up on time, leave on time (just ask the guests I once politely asked to leave while I brandished a golf club. Hey, when the invite says 7-10, I don’t mean 10:30), and if you’re not on the guest list you don’t get in (just ask the famous rock band I once escorted out of my house. Hey, I didn’t know who they were.)

Parties are fun because when you put a varied mix of people together you never know what might take place. All sorts of conversations and interesting things can happen. I have never thrown a party that turned out exactly like I thought it would. And that, I think, is the great thing about them. Their unpredictability.

Take the party I threw this weekend. I had a totally different theme and plan in mind. But once the guests started showing up the party sort of took on a life of its own.

The first guest to arrive was Grief. He is a big guy and we sat down for a big old chat. I had seen him rather recently and was not expecting to see him again so soon, but I guess he had some extra room on his schedule. Then Anger showed up, followed by Doubt and her sister Unbelief. Man, things were getting crowed over by the queso dip. The guests all seemed to know each other and things started rocking along.

Anger and Doubt were having a great conversation about the state of things. About how God never kicked people when they were down in any of the Gospels. Jesus always made the people He ran into better and helped them get to where they were going. He certainly didn’t leave them as He found them. So why does He seem to have changed His MO?

Grief and Unbelief were boogieing down to some great tunes on karaoke. One of my favorites was “Broken Dreams.” Grief then did this great solo of “Apparently Prayers Don’t Matter.” This was turning out to be one of my best parties of all time.

Wouldn’t you know it, just as my Pity Party was getting hot this Party Crasher shows up. Before I can shut the door on Him, He waltzes right in and gets comfy in my big leather chair. Then He looks me right in the eye and says, “What about Joseph?”

“What about Joseph?” I shoot back. “He had a colorful coat. Besides, like You, he’s not invited.”

“What about Joseph?” Party Crasher annoyingly repeats.

“Well, he had a dream or two. He told his brothers about it. They didn’t like him anyway and this made them really mad so they threw him in a well, then sold him into slavery and tore his coat and dipped it in goat’s blood and told his dad he was dead. Then while in slavery, his master’s wife lied about him and he was wrongly thrown into prison for years. While a prisoner, he helped a fellow prisoner who got out early and that guy forgot about Joseph. And Joseph continues to linger in prison for years. Looks like God forgot about him and his dreams too.” I said triumphantly.

“What about Joseph?” Party Crasher-repeater repeats.

“Well, if you must know, the former prisoner finally remembers Joseph. Tells the Pharaoh about him. Pharaoh gets Joseph out of prison. Joseph interprets a dream for Pharaoh and saves Egypt from a massive famine. Pharaoh puts Joseph in charge of all the land of Egypt. Joseph is now the number two person in authority in Egypt.” I told Him.

“What about Joseph?” Party Crasher asks without a hint of wryness.

“As I’m sure You know,” I said exasperatingly, “Joseph is reunited with his brothers when they come to Egypt during the famine to buy grain, which Joseph wisely had Egypt store during the prosperous years. His brothers do not recognize him at first. When he finally reveals himself they are terrified at what he might do to them as he is so powerful. Amazingly, Joseph is not angry with them. He tells them it is God that brought him to this place not them. What happened to him was so that he could be in a position to save the people of Egypt. God has used the bad for good.”

“What about Joseph?” Party Crasher asks one last time.

“All his dreams came true.” I finish slowly.

And with that, Party Crasher smiles and leaves.

As I return to my party, I realize my guests Grief, Anger, Doubt and Unbelief have all left. Instead I find Peace, Joy, Hope and Faith crowded around my table enjoying some home baked cookies and a hearty laugh. No need to chase any guest away with my golf club this time.

This just might be my greatest party of all time.
 ~

The Price Is Right

I am not a numismatist but I do enjoy coins. Coins give you a little glimpse into history if you study them. A US coin has the year it was minted, a letter referencing the city in which it was minted and the profile of one of our countries historical figures.

Coins are not static either. Ours keep changing. Take the penny. It once had a “wheat” back. On its reverse side there were two wheat fronds where now there is a relief of Lincoln’s Memorial. Even the nickel has evolved over time – once having an Indian head and a buffalo. Now it has Thomas Jefferson. And recently even Jefferson got a new look on his nickel.

Because I am so crazy for coins, I pick them up wherever I find them. I realize most are not worth too much – unless I happen upon a silver dollar, which never happens – but nonetheless I always stop, stoop and scoop up the lost coin.

I was recently walking through a parking lot with a friend when I happened upon an errant penny. I stopped to reclaim it and my friend turned and wondered aloud what I was up to. I told her I had found a penny and was picking it up. She told me “Yuck! Look at it. It’s gross and disgustingly dirty. Drop it!”

“No way,” I told her. I always pick up lost pennies and such, no matter how dirty. Money is money. It spends just the same clean or dirty. Coins and money are like that – they never lose their value. A penny is worth one cent no matter if it is a shiny new 2010 penny or an old, dirty, oil stained 1974 penny reclaimed from a parking lot. And lots of times they go up in value.

Too bad I’m not a coin or other type of money that never loses my value. Because there are days when I know I am completely worthless. Truth be told I’ve been feeling a lot like that these past months and year (or two (or forty)).

You ever have those seasons? Where everything you do or touch just wilts or withers? Every time you turn around someone else is getting your promotion? Your “atta girl”? Your breakthrough? You start off feeling pretty good, pretty worthwhile but endure a long, dry season and you and I can wind up feeling pretty empty and worthless. And I don’t know a feeling much worse than worthless.

I was having just that feeling the other day, feeling down and out, when I was cleaning up a grimy penny with some soap and water and old tooth brush. (I am a nerd that way.) That’s when God hit me right where it counts – I’m just like my grimy penny.

I’m not worth less just because I’ve been beat up a bit. I may not feel my value or worth but that does not mean I’m not priceless. I’m still as valuable as the day He breathed life into me. God helped me to understand that the Creator of the universe also created me and it’s an all out impossibility for me to lose value. Ever.

He showed me my value is not based on my bank account, my job description, my address, my relationship status or any other man-made criteria. My value is solely based on who I am in Him. I am just as worthy naked and penniless and standing on a corner as I am fully decked out in Armani, with millions in the bank and sitting in a penthouse suite. It’s Who made me that matters not what I have made of myself.

God put talents and gifts into me the day He thought me into existence. He put me together in such a way that He didn’t do for anyone else. He did the same for you that He didn’t recreate in me or anyone else. We are each a “masterpiece” of God. (EPH. 2:10). By definition masterpiece means one-of-a-kind. Priceless. God’s masterpiece does not depend on man’s definition of worth.

I am valuable but like my penny I am a bit grimy. There is only one thing left for me to do – allow God to take His soap and water and old tooth brush (He probably uses a new one) and clean the gunk and grime off of me and restore me.

Like coins, I‘m not static and I have changed and evolved over time. If you study me, especially the lines in my forty-mumble face, you can learn a bit of my history. And luckily, so too like coins, you and I have worth that far exceeds our face-value.

God minted each of us that way.

Soul Sighting

As the year turns to all things new and unknown it is time that I do as well. I started this site as a place to express and expound on my journey through life via the written word. I love the art of writing and from time to time God allows me to use language to describe what truly is the indescribable - His beauty and everlasting love. I plan to continue writing and exploring even more in the New Year.

However, the written word is at times wholly inadequate. It is true what "they" say - a picture is worth a thousand words. I am constantly taking pictures of God's majestic kingdom here on earth. And I find Him everywhere. So, I have started a second site which I am dedicating to those times when words just won't do. When sightings of God or of the Spirit or Love simply speak for themselves and bring God's own words to life.

It’s called Soul Sighting. Because when I see these things God simply pierces my soul and sets my heart on fire with His love.

It is my hope that you will find your soul set on fire from time to time too.
~

Loving the Low Life

I’m not allowed to dance. Not in public, anyway.

My friends and family discovered, long before I did, that I was not blessed with the grace or ability to dance. It seems that while my knees function just fine during walking and bending, my knees completely fail me when I dance. I sort of look like a stiff robot. This makes onlookers quite uncomfortable (or so I have been told.) So, I usually just sit on the side and sway in my seat and tap my toes.

There is one dance that I have not given up on, however. It may be the competitor in me but I cannot say no to the Limbo. You know, that Hawaiian concoction using a rapid drumbeat and a bamboo pole. Whenever someone starts one up I just have to see “how low can I go?”

As you might predict, given my ungraceful knee issues, I have never “gone very low” in a limbo dance. (One time I fell out of the dance so early I snuffed out a nearby tiki-torch for revenge. For which I was soon escorted from the event. But that’s another story.)

The limbo is interesting to me. Most competitions, be they dance or athletic, measure and reward the winner for lasting the longest, running the farthest, jumping the highest or achieving the most. It's one of the few challenges with a prize for going the lowest. And I think that is what appeals to me. The one who goes the lowest is rewarded for his or her efforts.

Jesus would have been great at the limbo. Here He was, the Son of God hanging out in Heaven on high but that was not the life for Him. Heaven, it seems, was too high a place for God’s Son to teach the world. So, the King left His home and got low.

Jesus was not sent to earth with all the power and prestige that rightfully belonged to Him. No, He was striped bare of all His position. He could have come in any form. As a full adult if He so chose. But instead He entered our world an infant with all the helplessness that brings.  He chose to go low in order to woo us.

Jesus’s birth was anything but what I would expect when a King is being born. There was no celebrating with extended family. We are not told of any of the usual birth celebration rituals of the day taking place for Jesus as they did for his cousin John born six months prior.

Mary and Joseph were not with family when they brought their son and the Son of God into the world. Joseph was a mere carpenter. They were teenagers. They were alone. In a stable. With hay for their son’s first bed.  Having to feed and change the Son of God.  In fact, the first ones to visit and celebrate Jesus were lowly shepherds. Nothing high and mighty there.

God is a big God and I expect Him to act in big and mighty ways. But when it came to arguably one of the most important events in the history of the world 1, God went low. And Jesus spent His entire life on earth “going low.” He didn’t call attention to Himself. His message was all about loving and helping other people, not yourself.

Loving through living the low life.

And people flocked to Him. He was approachable. He was humble. His heart was open to everyone – peasants and princes – alike. If God had sent Jesus to us in His true form and rightful position I don’t think it would have worked. Some would have been intimidated by His majesty; some would have been put off by a princely arrogance. Others would have ignored Him completely. But because of the way He arrived and the way He lived and the way He died (like a common criminal) He changed hearts, minds and lives. For all eternity.

Low was the only way to go.

Therein lies the challenge. How low can I go? It’s tough I admit. I don’t feel like livin’ “la vida low” sometimes. Because some days I get in the way of me. But when I do go low I love it. I find such peace in the low life. When I am able take my focus off myself and put it on others my spirit soars. That’s when I feel closest to My Savior – loving and living.

The dance is hard and I bump my head a lot on that bamboo pole because I’m not going low enough. But the good news is is that each day I get another chance at the dance and another chance to see how low I can go.

And the best part is no graceful knees required for this limbo dance.
_________________

1 - Big statement but every thing in history is divided into two time periods – before Christ’s birth and after it.

~

My Fortress

My fortress is mighty
Strong
And tall

The walls hold back the winds
The rains
And the storms

A mighty fortress
Whose protection is solid
Fierce and true

The rain seems relentless
The storm appears endless
The night feels bottomless

I do not fault the storms for coming
I do not fault the waves for raging
I do not fault the darkness for falling

A wall becomes mightier when fortified by rain
A fortress strengthened when buffeted by wind
A foundation solidified when christened by waves

My fortress is mighty
Strong
And tall
~

Inspired Wisdom

"Can't doesn't live here."  ~ Kelly Sumners

~

Wing Man

Let’s get one thing straight right here at the onset, I have a bit of an independent streak running through me. I realize we’ve talked about how we are created to live in community and I agree with that. However, at times I find that I know what’s best better than the community.

I know you do too. Don’t even sit there and try to deny it. It’s the reason we constantly find our selves in troubling situations, we, the know-it-alls of the world.

Take Maverick, for instance. His know-it-all, can-do-it-all attitude got him far but it could not get him all the way to his goal. In the movie Top Gun, Tom Cruise played a Navy pilot nick-named Maverick training to be a top jet-fighter pilot. He got his nick-name because of his independent attitude.

In a key scene, Maverick and his navigator, Goose, were in a simulated dog-fight with another trainee jet against two faux enemies. The pilots were trained to fly together for protection. Maverick was the wingman for the other pilot, protecting him. However, Maverick believed that the pilot had his confrontation with his enemy well in hand so Maverick left to go after the other enemy jet.

Of course, things went terribly wrong. The first pilot was “shot down” by his enemy but things went far worse for Maverick and Goose. They flew through the exhaust of another jet, stalled and had to eject. Goose was killed. Maverick could not fly for weeks.

Like jet fighter pilots, I have a wingman as I make my way through life. He is with me everyday protecting my backside. He is there giving me guidance. He is there showing me the way. He is there helping me through. And He is there showering me with love.

But like Maverick, there are many days when I ditch my wingman and fly off on my own. I feel strong and don’t need His protection. I am smart and don’t need His guidance. I am experienced I don’t need HIm showing me the way. I am capable I don’t need help. I am happy I don’t need love.

Greatfully, I have stumbled and fallen like Maverick and like him I am learning the error of my ways. At the end of the movie, Maverick has become a real jet-fighter pilot and finds himself in a real dog-fight with real enemies. Several times he gets nervous and cannot shoot. But then his strength comes as he asks his friend Goose to “talk” to him. As one enemy flies away Maverick's new navigator implores him to chase after it. Maverick says “No.” And he stays flying along with the other pilot.

The enemy turns around and has them in its sights. Again his navigator shouts to pull out and Maverick says “No, I’m not leaving my wingman.”

Maverick has learned the value of keeping the faith in what he has been taught and that it will keep them safe. The first enemy gets shot down then Maverick pulls off his signature breaking maneuver and shoots down his trailing enemy. Staying with his wingman, Maverick ensured all enemies were defeated and both jets made it home safely.

It’s no easy task, staying with my Wing Man. Faith asks a lot. My independent streak is strong. The harder things are and the darker the night the stronger the pull is to strike out on my own. To say, “God, must have forgotten about me. He obviously doesn’t care about me anymore. So, it’s all up to me now.” That is exactly when I must fight the hardest to stay with Him. I must do what Maverick did and ask my Wing Man to talk to me and give me strength to hold tight. You see, even when I’m grounded and cannot fly, my Man’s got the wings to help me soar.

Come hell or high water, I’m not leaving my Wing Man.

~

To Catch A Dream Thief

Once upon a time I had a dream. It was a big dream. Bigger than any other I had. But I dreamed it anyway. I dreamed I was elected student-body President of my high school.

You might think that as I was Vice President the year before that my dream was not such a big dream. That my dream was easily within my grasp. I’d say “Ha!, you’re wrong.” I was running against our Valedictorian, the smartest girl not just in my class but in the whole school. I was also running against several faculty members and teachers, as I soon learned. Fulfilling this dream would be a mighty task.

Even before I announced my candidacy people tried to thwart me and my dream. I was told in no uncertain terms by the Head of the Upper School, Sister C., that I was to strongly consider my run for the presidency. And that I really should not run. That, among other things, she and other faculty members didn’t find me committed enough for the position.

I was flabbergasted. Sister C and I always got along really well. I responded in no uncertain terms that I was, indeed, committed beyond expression. I thanked her for her concern and set about my task of campaigning.

That’s when I learned that forces that one day like you can really not like you really quickly. I put up campaign posters – Sister C. tore them down for alleged misspellings (she was wrong). I put up big posters – Sister C. instituted a new rule as to the size poster that could be put up. I cut my large poster in half, and put them up really close together – Sister C. instituted another new rule as to the number of posters, one.

Sister C. was not the only one who wanted my dream to fail. Indeed, there were other teachers and faculty who didn’t take to the idea of my presidency. I even learned Sister B., the Headmistress, was one of them. But I did have teachers and faculty on my side. Seemed I had created quite a stir with my little campaign. And the people who noticed didn’t think it was all bad.

Election Day finally came. Valedictorian and I gave our speeches to the Upper School. Votes were tallied. Candidates’ were called into Sister B’s office for the results. I won in a landslide.

Dreams are funny things. We have to hold on tight to them. Really tight. There are evil forces in the world that will try and take them from us if we are not vigilant.

Dream stealers are sent in all shapes and sizes. Some dream stealing soldiers are obvious, like mine was – a person who is visibly trying to keep us from our goal. But other soldiers are more subtle – busyness, that makes us move our dream to the back burner; lack of confidence, that tells us we don’t have any business striving for that goal; lack of contacts or resources, that tells us we will never get there from here; or repeated failure, that tells us we’ve tried and tried but this dream belongs to someone else. And so many more.

Lies. Each one of these dream thiefs is a lie sent by the evil one to ensure we do not reach our goal. Why? Because he knows that if we reach it what joy we will have and what glory God, the dream giver, will have.  The only true way to thwart the thwarter of dreams is to trust in God to get us there. When there seems like no way, there is a way. God is the Way. Even when we can no longer see the dream God can and does. We must do our part and remain in faith. God put the dream in us and God finishes what He starts.

What business did I have beating the smartest girl in school? On paper I should have lost big time. The only way I win that election is with God’s help. And I think satan knew it and that’s why he tried every trick in the book to stop it. Now, I’m not saying my opponent didn’t have God on her side, but perhaps God had a bigger dream planned for her. Something that would bring her even more joy and Him even greater glory.

The dream thief is sneaky and we must remain ever alert and focused to catch him. When we can no longer see the dreams, goals and desires we have set out for our lives we must keep our eyes on God.

He is the one, true way to get there from here.

And that is no dream.

~

Q & A

Hell? No!

Sticks and Swords

“Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.” How many times did I sing that little rhyme when I was a child? Whenever someone would say something that hurt my feelings I would turn to that familiar refrain and say it to them and then say it over and over to myself.

Trouble was it never did make me feel better. Whatever hurtful thing was said to me had a tendency to stick with me. I would find myself mulling over it for hours or even days. All the while trying not to let anyone know that my feelings had been hurt.

I don’t know who came up with that ditty but someone needs to let the author know words can indeed wound, sometimes even more than a stick. The nice thing is, is that words can also build up and repair.

Words matter.

We have said and written many words in an attempt to express the thoughts, feelings and desires we hold inside. Every song on the radio is a singer’s words put to melody in an effort to express an idea or create a feeling within the listener.

Throughout history lovers have devoted reams of paper and gallons of ink to the inexpressible idea of love’s rapture and heartbreak’s devastation.  Words can alter the course of history. 

The Declaration of Independence, The Constitution of the United States, The Bill of Rights – words that form the foundation of our country.

Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address and Emancipation Proclamation – words of freedom.

Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf – words of hate.

Martin Luther King, Jr.’s I have a Dream speech – words that inspire and encourage.

Words have power.

Words can give, “You’re hired.” And words can take away, “You’re fired.” Words can soothe, “How can I help?” And words can heal, “I’m sorry.”

In Genesis, we learn that God created the heavens and the earth and God separated the light from the darkness. How did He do this? Did He use modeling clay then wave His hand over it? No. Did He throw a lightening bolt across the cosmos? No.

“And God said…” (Gen. 1:3) That’s all it took. Words. No further action required. Merely by uttering words God called all things into being.

God created us in His image which means our words matter. Our words have power. We can use our words to hurt, kill and destroy or we can use our words to help, love and lift up.

There is another saying, “the pen is mightier than the sword.” The fellow who penned this phrase was a man of wise words.

So the next time someone does or says something to hurt you, instead of picking up a verbal stick or sword, try using 3 of the most powerful words ever spoken, “I forgive you.” I bet it will make you both feel better and it just might alter the course of your history.

It worked for Jesus.

~

3-Dimensional View

I love optical illusions. Those drawings and creations that look like one thing at first glance but if you keep looking at them they morph completely into something else. You’ve seen them. The drawing that looks like a curvy vase but if you look long enough the vase disappears and the silhouettes of two lovers kissing appears.

Some of the craziest optical illusions have to be those 3-D posters which were popular in the early nineties. “Magic-eye” posters were brain splitting. Standing in front of one they looked like nothing special, just a bunch of crazy colorful computer generated lines or colors. Pretty, but nothing great.

But if you waited patiently and focused properly suddenly a 3-D image would appear before you eyes. Instead of a field of green a grasshopper becomes visible. These posters were really fun. For example try: Grasshopper 3-D Stereogram

As neat as these posters could be, it was hard to get the hang of seeing the hidden image. My friends kept telling me to “look through” the poster, don’t look at the poster. Yeah, right, what does that mean? I was told to “soften my focus” or “cross my eyes slightly” and then the image would be revealed. One friend even traced the 3-D image with her fingers for me so I knew what I was looking for – big help that was (not).

The thing is no one can help me see something that is hidden. All the coaching, helpful tips and pointers are nice but it's not going to do any good. You cannot see it for me. I have to do it for myself.

When I decided to tune out my helpful friends, relax, walk away from it for a bit and then try not so hard to “not look AT the poster” the craziest thing happened – I saw the 3-D image suddenly appear – it was a ship and lighthouse. (Slightly crossing my eyes did help.)

It happened so quickly and the ship and lighthouse were so clear and 3-dimentional it kind of startled me at first. One second there was nothing and the next – boom – the thing I was looking for was right before my eyes. The first time took a while but from then on whenever I looked at the poster I saw the ship and lighthouse right away. I learned a new way to see things.

You know God is like that too. He hides Himself from us at times. But like the ship and lighthouse, just because I cannot see Him does not mean He is not there. Someone can explain Him and point Him out and tell me how to “see” Him but they can’t see Him for me. God is someone (something depending on your point of view) that must be experienced personally. And that is exactly the way He wants it.

There were times growing up when all my friends seemed to have this knowledge and relationship with God that I didn’t have. Despite what I thought were my best efforts God and I were not close friends.

During college and after I attended bible studies with my friends, I went to church, had many deep discussions on God and faith but something was missing. I could not see the God that others did. I tried mightily but just could not get there. Then I tried a different way. Perhaps “try” is the wrong word; essentially, I gave up on God and I ever getting close.

And don’t you know it, as soon as I tuned out all the well meaning advice and tips, relaxed and walked away from Him and tried NOT to see Him, God suddenly showed up. That was Him suddenly showing up for the first time bringing my vine back to life, which I wrote about in my last post. Never would have thought to look for Him there!

I can’t see God for you. I can’t tell you how to get close to Him. I can’t reveal Him to you. And you can’t do those things for me. We have to do those things for ourselves – with His help. And sometimes it takes learning a new way to “see” before God reveals new things – of Himself and of ourselves – to us.

Like that ship and lighthouse, He is always there even when He seems hidden from view. But unlike them God is no illusion. He is as real as the paper the poster is printed on. The next time you’re looking for God try to relax and let Him reveal Himself to you. You might be amazed at what suddenly gets revealed.

And the best part is He won’t make you “slightly cross your eyes” to see Him.

~

Pruning Season

It’s Autumn and that means its harvest time. Harvest time is a time for celebration. The hard work is over and the bounty is here. I suppose that’s why there are so many harvest parties and festivals this time of year. (Not to mention the ritual of the crowning of the many varieties of Harvest Queens complete with fancy sash.)

If we look only to the harvest, we would think it all so easy – all this bounty-gathering. But alas that is not so. Sowing is the key. But along with the sowing there is a step of even greater importance to the harvest – the pruning.

I am not a farmer and I am not a gardener. But none of that stops me from desiring a bountiful and beautiful garden. Several years ago I attempted to beautify my home and garden by planting many shrubs, caladium bulbs and plants.

Of particular interest to me were these lovely vines I planted along my wrought-iron fence. The vines were to grow up and along the fence and flower in Spring and Summer. I tended mightily to my garden and vines. Watering, weeding, fertilizing and mulching. To my dismay everything began to grow and flourish as planned. It was wonderful.

However, the vines were getting a bit out of control. There were branches going in directions that I did not want. Pruning was needed. I got out my hedge clippers and began pruning away unwanted branches. And encouraging other branches.

The vine looked so much better after being pruned. But as I more closely inspected one of the vines I noticed that I had cut the main stalk. I had pruned so much that I had cut clear through the vine’s base. Now the all the branches growing from that vine would die. Crushing blow.

I did not dig up the stalk base as I was hopeful that I could get it to grow again. However, my hopes for that were dashed when my “helpful” neighbor was pouring weed killer on the sidewalk and poured some in my bed (and on the vine stump) to kill weeds in the bed. The vine stump showed no signs of life for months on end. It just turned grey, brittle and lifeless.

About eight months later God lead me, for the first time in my life, to a passage in the bible. Sitting in my bed, I felt compelled to open the Good Book and read. Never really had that compulsion in the past but I went with it. The scripture I went directly to was John 15:1-8:

1) I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. 2) He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. 3) You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. 4) Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.

5) I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. 6) If anyone does not remain in me, he is like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. 7) If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be given you. 8) This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.

I instantly began to laugh as I thought of my job at pruning. I hoped that when God pruned He was much more adept at it and didn’t kill what He set out to help bear more fruit.

The very next morning as I let my dog out I glanced at my errant vine stump wishing that I had the skill of an expert that could have helped it to bear more flowers. And I almost passed flat out at what I saw. The vine was growing! Eight months after getting cut within inches of its life and then that life gets poisoned to death – the vine was sprouting new branches. And as my Heavenly Father as my witness, that growth was not there the day before.

The vine grew into a beauty with long, lovely branches with dazzling flowers. Its harvest was bountiful for many years. What took place with my vine, God does for me. As I have been sowing God has been pruning. He has been pruning me the for last few years. And it hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced. The good news is the pruning does come to an end. Pruning lasts only for a season.

Harvest time is nearing. And when it’s time there will be a celebration fit for a harvest queen. I just hope it comes complete with a fancy sash.

~

Thought for the Day

You have to face the clouds to see the silver lining.

~

First and Last

I have fallen in love for the last time in my life. That’s a pretty heady statement I realize but it is true. Before I tell you about my last love, let me tell you about my first.

Oh, how handsome he was. He was tall, dark, had this mane of thick magnificent hair. He had a dazzling smile framed by a devilish mustache. And had strong hands to hold me. I ran to him every time I saw him and could not wait to fly into his lap.

There was a problem though. Our love was not meant to be. Although I was single, he was not. He was married. He had children. And then there was the age factor. Not that I cared a bit about it but I’m certain he did – he was 30ish, I was 6ish. He was my Sunday School teacher.

I still recall sitting at his feet as he sat in one of those tiny chairs and read to us. He read stories of Noah and his Ark and Jesus and the loaves and fishes. My Mother still teases me to this day when ever we run into him in town. “There’s Mr. So-and-so. You were so in love with him,” Mom will say to me as if I could ever forget.

The heart never does forget its first awakening. It’s like a flower awakening from its bulb underground on its first full day of spring. And it seems like for the rest of our lives we are constantly trying to recreate that awakening.

We pursue new people, new hobbies, new careers, new interests all in search of that elusive thing that will make our heart sing like it did that very first time we fell in love. And for a while we think we have it.

As we drive that shiny new car off the lot for the first time we are filled with excitement and pride. We wash it every week. Won’t allow eating or smoking in it. But once it gets its first ding from the clumsy driver parked next to us, the bubble is burst and we start our search anew.

I have spent my life searching for that thing, that awakening of the heart that will never leave. I have come so close and missed each time. I thought I was destined to be one of those people who would live without love. I would be content but unloved. My heart would beat but lie unawakened. I was just about to accept my fate until fate stepped in.

My Last Love is a Writer. Some call him a story-teller, some call him a song writer. I call him a poet. He has me written the most beautiful love poem you will ever read.

He wrote it to me years ago. In fact, I’ve had it in my possession since I was a little girl. I just never took the time to sit and really read it. I read it from start to finish and then even read it out loud – it’s really even more stunning that way. This is as true a love poem as anyone will ever write. And it was written directly with me - and you - in mind.

When I read my love poem, I fell head over heels passionately in love with my Love. You will too when you read it. My Last Love and my first have a couple of things in common – both are attached to others besides just me and both have children. The difference is my Last Love shares His love with all of us who are His children and His Beloved. Everyone is His Beloved. No one is left out.

Just when I thought I was alone and unlovely my Beloved sent me the Song of Solomon (aka Song of Songs). It is the most stunningly beautiful work of art of love you will ever read. My heart was awakened far beyond its wildest dreams. And the best part is I know my Beloved is with me forever. The awakening is only beginning.

My lover spoke and said to me,
"Arise, my darling,
my beautiful one, and come with me.
See! The winter is past;
the rains are over and gone.
Flowers appear on the earth;
the season of singing has come,
the cooing of doves
is heard in our land.
The fig tree forms its early fruit;
the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.
Arise, come, my darling;
my beautiful one, come with me.” Song of Solomon 2:10-13

This is just a snippet, so I hope you grab your copy of our love letter and I hope you fall head over heels too. I hope your heart awakens in ways you never knew possible. Mine continues to everyday. Our Beloved is like that.

He may not have been the first, but He sure saved the best for last.

~