Boundaries: A Question

Some boundaries are good.

Flowers bloom, produce seeds--and then stalk fades, plant ceases to bloom, and does (apparently) nothing for rest of the year.

Trees drop leaves and are dormant through winter. Some can't even produce fruit without that dormant phase.

Ocean and river ebb and flow and stay (mostly) within bounds--when they overflow, we all run to higher ground.

Jesus told His disciples to "come away and rest a while."

But, some boundaries are bad.

Wild animals are fearful, even dangerous when we get too close.

Friends take time away and soon there's no longer much of a friendship at all.

We put up mental "walls" against ideas, against people, against thoughts--and soon discover a prison of our own making.

Jesus praised the lavish giver, the one who poured out without counting the cost.

How can one know the difference?

Priorities: Time

Stars sparkle between the clouds that are finally scudding away. Half a moon, slanting toward the west, shines sleepily through the trees. Even the night insects chirp more slowly. The birds doze in their nests. A breeze sweeps slowly across the lake and up the mountainside. Leaves flutter. Far off, an owl cries.

A leaf crunches suddenly, and a single figure slips among the trees. The steps are unhurried, but eager. Part way up the slope, it pauses, and in the shadowy half-moon light turns face toward the sky.

In the still night air the words float, quiet but ringing with unconcealed relief and joy to finally, finally, be here and be able to speak unfettered.

"My Father. . ."

"Now in the morning, having risen a long while before daybreak, He went out and departed to a solitary place; and there He prayed." (Mk. 1:35)

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How much would I give to speak with God? Do I prioritize my time to make sure I have time to keep that connection alive? I'm afraid not much...

Reality: Beauty and Ugliness

(Inspired by Heidi's recent post)

We often talk about "being real," in cyberspace and in real life. By which is generally meant that you don't "gloss over" the not-so-great parts of your life.

I've nothing wrong with that. Only One has ever been completely holy, and even He was not always perfectly happy...there's nothing bad about admitting things are ugly sometimes. We live in a war zone. War zones are ugly. It's expected.

But too often "being real" deteriorates into a sad sort of "woe-is-me" attitude, bemoaning one's difficulties and "first-world problems," and trying to get others to feel sorry.

Which is sad, because if that's what you see as "being real," then that's what's really inside you.

Everyone has struggles, of course. But some fight them unceasingly, and others give up...and others, by God's grace, rise above them and see and live in the beauty that is.

What if what was really inside you was:

This is going on right now and I hate it. But this other thing is also going on and it's beautiful. And I [rock-bottom, 100%, not-just-a-platitude] KNOW God is going to pull me through and the end of this ugliness will be beauty!

Yeah. I can't do that. You can't do that.

But He can. Shall we accept His offer?

"Looking unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." (Heb. 12:2)

"Go your way, eat the fat, drink the sweet, and send portions to those for whom nothing is prepared; for this day is holy to our  Lord. Do not sorrow, for the joy of the Lord is your strength." (Neh. 8:10)

Little Girl With the Sticker

I don't know how old she was. I don't even remember her name. And I haven't seen her since that day six (or was it seven?) years ago. Probably won't see her ever again.

I do remember her shy smile, her tangled-almost-matted hair, and the sticker on the middle of her forehead.

I remember how she tagged after me, borrowed my camera, sat beside me, squeezed behind me to throw little arms around my neck, begged to have her picture taken, asked me to sit in the shade with her and take pictures.

I said, "Later."

Because I was fifteen years old and my "best" friend, G, had a bigger following of girls at the school in Belize and I wanted to be with G and I wanted to have all the girls follow me like she did and I didn't have that much time for one little girl who just wanted to sit in the shade and take pictures.

At least I did invite her to play with us.

She did for a little bit but the other kids pushed her back and she went away and sat in the shade and watched. We played all kinds of games and she watched. I fell and wrenched my knee hard but I got up and kept playing because you know, that's who I was.

And then I said goodbye and she gave me a hug and went and sat in the shade and watched me go away. And I didn't come back because on the goodbye day I'd finally gotten to work with the guy I had a crush on and no, they didn't really need me on the job, but I sure wasn't going to leave, just to say goodbye to just one little girl who wanted to sit in the shade and take pictures.

"That little girl with the sticker?" said G later, "I think she's kinda left out. I think they pick on her a bit."

And I didn't say much but a bit of guilt pricked at my stomach and maybe my knee ached a bit more. Maybe it still aches a bit.

So whenever that knee hurts I remember the little girl in the shade--so much like the bigger little girl who she wanted to sit with--and I remember to make time to sit with the little girls and the little boys and the bigger girls and boys who are still little inside. To make time to take pictures and give hugs and jump rope and twirl them around in the air, to lock eyes with them and tell them I love you. And so does He. To make time to make a big deal about a sentence or a crayon scribble or a math problem done badly beautifully.

And someday if I ever find that little girl again, I'll squeeze her tight and hand her my camera. And we'll just sit in the shade and take pictures. Maybe all day.

"Only Believe."

Teva'd feet on moonlit grass...

Memorizing and avoiding the "ant trails"...

Scurryings in palm trees...

River lapping on the shore...

Gentle jungle breeze playing around the rooftops...

That's what full moons (even here in Tennessee) remind me of. 

Peru...why is my heart still there, five years later, when my friends have come back Stateside and there is no apparent way for me to get there? I have made mistakes, no two ways about it; but have those mistakes barred every way there? Lord, don't let it be so!

I drove home from the barn on Thursday night and the almost-full "supermoon" was hanging large over the hay fields. I wasn't even consciously praying--just tossing questions and thoughts around in my mind--when of a sudden I remembered the story we had just read for family worship. Jairus. 

(Mark 5 if you want to read the whole thing.)

But mostly it was verse 36 that God brought home to my lonely, confused, and baffled little heart: 

"...overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the ruler of the synagogue, 'Do not fear; only believe.'"

They said it was impossible. She is dead. Don't trouble the Teacher any more. You've already made enough of a fool of yourself. 

But He said, "Only believe." 

Only believe. 

And so I do.

Power of Praise

I'm walking up the (endless, it seems) 144 stairs to work (yes, I counted them!) wondering why the day is turning out not-so-great.

There's no reason for having a less-than-great day. It's sunny, it's summer, I have a great job, I have a great horse, a great family, a really pretty awesome life. And I don't mean that as cheesy--it's true! But

When it strikes me suddenly that this week, I've no longer been counting blessings.

Do five bullet points a day really make that big a difference?

So I begin right then--Thank You for the roses over there. For fresh green baby ivy shoots. For summer clouds. For foggy morning. 

For full-time work. Chance to serve principals from all over the country. Dew on grass blades. Purple spikey flowers...

And do you know (call it cheesy but it's true!), the day turns around!

I Will Go

A friend shared this song on Facebook and I have promptly fallen in love with it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! May we all be willing to go "where there are no easy roads" for Him!

He Went

It wasn't that they didn't try. Oh no. They had tried--everything. And as a last attempt, when all else was hopeless, when the doctors had shaken their heads and gone away quietly, her father put on his coat and left.

He slipped out quiet, and no one saw him leave.

He'd never thought he would do this. Not in public. It would be a disgrace if anyone saw--and see they would. Because the new rabbi always had crowds following. He heard them before he saw them--the shouts of joy, of request, the children squealing, the shuffling of feet--but he kept on going. The people part to let him through, murmuring yet respectful.

The leader of the synagogue comes face to face with the Leader of all.

Jairus falls on his knees in desperation. Leaders of the synagogue don't do that. But this one does. "Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be healed and live!"he begs (Mark 5:23).

"And He went with him." (vs. 24)

So many things He could have done. So many things He could have said. Perhaps the disciples wonder why Jesus doesn't take the perfect opportunity to teach this rabbi a lesson. Don't refuse to heal the daughter, of course...just put a condition on it. Sure, I'll heal your daughter, if you will promise to keep the other leaders from harassing Me.

But there are no conditions. There is only a request. And an answer.

He goes with him.

And she is made alive.