The boxes blocked my view, stacked up in my arms three-high. They weren’t heavy, just awkward, but I didn’t want to carry them up from the basement one at a time. I should be able to do this, I thought.
Trouble is, I’ve never been very good at stairs when I can’t see them. I’ve always admired people in movies – or real life – who could go tripping up and down a staircase, light on their feet, a smile on their face. Oh, I could trip all right, just not lightly or with a smile. I simply had to keep my eyes on the next step so I wouldn’t lose my balance and fall on my face.
So, challenged with the old concrete basement stairs, I gripped the boxes tighter, tried to think perpendicularly, and planted my foot soundly on the first step. Next, the other foot, same method. Following this approach, I realized something I’d not visually noticed before: the steps were shallower than the length of my foot. My tendency was to over-step them and jam my foot against the next one. I had to slow down, shorten my step and concentrate on one at a time.
Since I couldn’t see where I was going, I had to do this by faith, so to speak. Sounded like a spiritual metaphor I’d read somewhere.
Walking by faith is definitely harder than dashing ahead, and not nearly as fun. I like dashing ahead, running along my life path, glancing over my shoulder from time to time and yelling confidently, “Come on, Jesus. This way!”
But I don’t like falling flat on my face and waiting for Him to stop and help me up – which He always does.
Hmm. Maybe I’d have more success if I slowed down and let Him lead me, just one, short foot step at a time.
“For we walk by faith, not by sight” II Corinthians 5:7
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
Ready or not!
Remember playing Hide and Seek - running away from the seeker who, with covered eyes, counted to 10 while you squeezed under any little bush or board you could find?
“Ready or not, here I come!”
Life is like that. Most of us think we are well hidden. Truth is, we’re not.
Those six little words of warning do not fade away with our childhood. They hang around in the shadows and pop out at the most unexpected moments:
College entrance exams.
Driver’s license test.
Childbirth.
Root canals.
Moving.
Some things find us whether we are ready for them or not.
I was reminded of this truth when we totaled our car on a rainy, midnight highway. All of my so-called preparation of blanket, jacket, umbrella and flashlight meant little. Crawling out of the wreck and groping in the backseat for glasses that were moments before resting comfortably on my face – and then groping some more for a new cell phone that had flown from my purse – I forgot all about the water, blanket and flashlight in the trunk.
My husband and I survived the crash, the airbags, the insurance delays and the purchase of another car, but since then my emergency kit has expanded to include first aid, a toothbrush, comb and deodorant – those niceties we take for granted until holed up overnight in a roadside motel without them. Fortunately, I get another go at “ready or not.”
But we don’t get a second go at eternity. It’s a one shot deal and there’s only one exit.
I am happy to say that we were spiritually ready that night, for we are both hidden and found in Jesus, because He came to find and save the lost (Luke 19:10).
My rescue is based on what He has done, not on what I’ve done. All my good deeds and donations to charities and the church are mere afterthoughts compared to His mercy. Those are wonderful things, and certainly I strive toward them, but when I look into forever, they will be only as good as water and blankets and flashlights.
How about you? Have you found your life in Jesus? Better yet, have you found Him?
He isn’t lost, and He’s not hiding. But He is waiting for you to say, “Ready or not, here I come.”
“Ready or not, here I come!”
Life is like that. Most of us think we are well hidden. Truth is, we’re not.
Those six little words of warning do not fade away with our childhood. They hang around in the shadows and pop out at the most unexpected moments:
College entrance exams.
Driver’s license test.
Childbirth.
Root canals.
Moving.
Some things find us whether we are ready for them or not.
I was reminded of this truth when we totaled our car on a rainy, midnight highway. All of my so-called preparation of blanket, jacket, umbrella and flashlight meant little. Crawling out of the wreck and groping in the backseat for glasses that were moments before resting comfortably on my face – and then groping some more for a new cell phone that had flown from my purse – I forgot all about the water, blanket and flashlight in the trunk.
My husband and I survived the crash, the airbags, the insurance delays and the purchase of another car, but since then my emergency kit has expanded to include first aid, a toothbrush, comb and deodorant – those niceties we take for granted until holed up overnight in a roadside motel without them. Fortunately, I get another go at “ready or not.”
But we don’t get a second go at eternity. It’s a one shot deal and there’s only one exit.
I am happy to say that we were spiritually ready that night, for we are both hidden and found in Jesus, because He came to find and save the lost (Luke 19:10).
My rescue is based on what He has done, not on what I’ve done. All my good deeds and donations to charities and the church are mere afterthoughts compared to His mercy. Those are wonderful things, and certainly I strive toward them, but when I look into forever, they will be only as good as water and blankets and flashlights.
How about you? Have you found your life in Jesus? Better yet, have you found Him?
He isn’t lost, and He’s not hiding. But He is waiting for you to say, “Ready or not, here I come.”
Sunday, July 4, 2010
I'd rather be dependent than independent
On this day of independence celebration, I celebrate my utter dependence upon a God who saves and delivers.
Friday morning I read Psalm 31 in which Israel’s shepherd-king David wrote, “My times are in your hands.” That night just before midnight as my husband and I drove into a sudden downpour on Monument Hill just north of Colorado Springs, those words came back to me again.
Forward movement on a watery roadway can result in hydroplaning which can lead to fish-tailing that can throw a moving vehicle into a vicious spin – much like the tea-cup ride at the carnival, but without the connecting support.
“My times are in Your hands.”
What else but the hands of God could have kept us secure as we spun across I-25, took out a sign post and shot through an opening that just happened to be right there in the guard rail? What else could have sent us into the median rather than off the embankment on the edge of the highway? What else could have kept us from colliding with other cars on the interstate, and helped us out of our own, shaken but safe when it was totaled?
“My times are in Your hands.”
There is peace in the true, unfailing Word of God.
But had we opened our eyes to look into the face of Jesus – a thought I carried with me as we spun – we would have known even more than we know now the truth of His unfailing love.
Thank God that I can depend upon a savior who saves. Thank God for His faithfulness and help and healing. Thank God that I am not alone on a highway in the middle of a rainy night, for He is with me.
My times are in His hands.
Friday morning I read Psalm 31 in which Israel’s shepherd-king David wrote, “My times are in your hands.” That night just before midnight as my husband and I drove into a sudden downpour on Monument Hill just north of Colorado Springs, those words came back to me again.
Forward movement on a watery roadway can result in hydroplaning which can lead to fish-tailing that can throw a moving vehicle into a vicious spin – much like the tea-cup ride at the carnival, but without the connecting support.
“My times are in Your hands.”
What else but the hands of God could have kept us secure as we spun across I-25, took out a sign post and shot through an opening that just happened to be right there in the guard rail? What else could have sent us into the median rather than off the embankment on the edge of the highway? What else could have kept us from colliding with other cars on the interstate, and helped us out of our own, shaken but safe when it was totaled?
“My times are in Your hands.”
There is peace in the true, unfailing Word of God.
But had we opened our eyes to look into the face of Jesus – a thought I carried with me as we spun – we would have known even more than we know now the truth of His unfailing love.
Thank God that I can depend upon a savior who saves. Thank God for His faithfulness and help and healing. Thank God that I am not alone on a highway in the middle of a rainy night, for He is with me.
My times are in His hands.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Is Moving Across Country Ever Easy?
Which is more painful: a writer separated from pen and paper or one separated from toothbrush and toothpaste?
I guess it depends on how close the writer is to other people.
During our recent move from California to Colorado, I spent two days in the cab of a U-Haul with my husband Mike and our Queensland heeler, Blue. I think Mike would choose the toothbrush. Thank the Lord for convenience stores.
With no paper – and as one of the few diehards who does not own a laptop – I spent the first several hundred miles trying to remember where I put my journal. Either I or dear family members and neighbors who came to my relocation rescue packed it in a feverish rush the afternoon prior to our departure. It must have gone into the same box as my toothbrush.
However, several names and sites along the way were unforgettable:
We crossed Holy Moses Wash in Kingman, Arizona, and in New Mexico passed road signs for Eagle’s Nest, Red River, and Angle Fire. On Colorado’s I-25 a flashing sign warned, “Watch for Wildlife on Roadway.” Not your typical notifications found in the San Joaquin Valley.
The first night I marveled that I could see the stars all the way down to the horizon. And the next morning leading Blue out for relief behind the motel, I watched a Native American couple walk with great dignity from a nearby vacant building, side by side, heads high, their sleeping pad rolled up over his shoulder, her hand in his.
How little I knew of the moving of others.
During the weeks and months of packing, I had thought, “This is hard.” It was hard, but not as hard as it is for some, and I often felt like one of my whinier sixth-graders who always complained of assignments, “This is too hard.”
Unloading and sorting and moving in to our new home were also hard, but I had recently read David’s declaration that God was his helper. “For by You I can run against a troop, and by my God I can leap over a wall” (Psalm 18:29).
Exhausted each night from heavy lifting, and unfamiliar shifting and shoving, I indeed felt like I had run against a troop and leapt over a wall – but all with God’s unfailing help and the friends He sent our way.
And so I settle into a routine again, gazing out my window across the Arkansas River Valley to the mighty Pike’s Peak and Cheyenne Mountain that brood over Colorado Springs.
Thank you, everyone who helped us and wished us well. We may have moved away, but you remain in our thoughts and in our hearts.
I guess it depends on how close the writer is to other people.
During our recent move from California to Colorado, I spent two days in the cab of a U-Haul with my husband Mike and our Queensland heeler, Blue. I think Mike would choose the toothbrush. Thank the Lord for convenience stores.
With no paper – and as one of the few diehards who does not own a laptop – I spent the first several hundred miles trying to remember where I put my journal. Either I or dear family members and neighbors who came to my relocation rescue packed it in a feverish rush the afternoon prior to our departure. It must have gone into the same box as my toothbrush.
However, several names and sites along the way were unforgettable:
We crossed Holy Moses Wash in Kingman, Arizona, and in New Mexico passed road signs for Eagle’s Nest, Red River, and Angle Fire. On Colorado’s I-25 a flashing sign warned, “Watch for Wildlife on Roadway.” Not your typical notifications found in the San Joaquin Valley.
The first night I marveled that I could see the stars all the way down to the horizon. And the next morning leading Blue out for relief behind the motel, I watched a Native American couple walk with great dignity from a nearby vacant building, side by side, heads high, their sleeping pad rolled up over his shoulder, her hand in his.
How little I knew of the moving of others.
During the weeks and months of packing, I had thought, “This is hard.” It was hard, but not as hard as it is for some, and I often felt like one of my whinier sixth-graders who always complained of assignments, “This is too hard.”
Unloading and sorting and moving in to our new home were also hard, but I had recently read David’s declaration that God was his helper. “For by You I can run against a troop, and by my God I can leap over a wall” (Psalm 18:29).
Exhausted each night from heavy lifting, and unfamiliar shifting and shoving, I indeed felt like I had run against a troop and leapt over a wall – but all with God’s unfailing help and the friends He sent our way.
And so I settle into a routine again, gazing out my window across the Arkansas River Valley to the mighty Pike’s Peak and Cheyenne Mountain that brood over Colorado Springs.
Thank you, everyone who helped us and wished us well. We may have moved away, but you remain in our thoughts and in our hearts.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Three rules and 10 things you can get rid of before you move
We are moving to Colorado in two weeks and I’ve come up with three rules for sorting stuff before packing:
1. Do I use it?
2. If not, will I use it in a year?
3. If not, is the sentimental value worth moving it?
This eliminates:
1. jeans that once fit
2. single socks with no mate
3. old phone books
4. makeup that is two shades too dark but cost so much you don’t want to waste money by throwing it away
5. the fourth casserole dish with serving basket
6. old towels kept for rags
(Wait – don’t throw those away. They’re great for wrapping glassware, and can be tossed after the move.)
7. old formals that your grownup daughter never wore and your granddaughter won’t either
8. the two-pint containers of turkey drippings saved from Thanksgiving for soup someday
9. padlocks that have no keys
10. dried up ink pens from Disneyland
Some of these items can be recycled through thrift stores or sold on Ebay, but probably not the turkey drippings.
I know I’m not the only American who has kept things that should have been tossed or given away long ago, so if you have anything to add to the list, I’d love to hear from you.
1. Do I use it?
2. If not, will I use it in a year?
3. If not, is the sentimental value worth moving it?
This eliminates:
1. jeans that once fit
2. single socks with no mate
3. old phone books
4. makeup that is two shades too dark but cost so much you don’t want to waste money by throwing it away
5. the fourth casserole dish with serving basket
6. old towels kept for rags
(Wait – don’t throw those away. They’re great for wrapping glassware, and can be tossed after the move.)
7. old formals that your grownup daughter never wore and your granddaughter won’t either
8. the two-pint containers of turkey drippings saved from Thanksgiving for soup someday
9. padlocks that have no keys
10. dried up ink pens from Disneyland
Some of these items can be recycled through thrift stores or sold on Ebay, but probably not the turkey drippings.
I know I’m not the only American who has kept things that should have been tossed or given away long ago, so if you have anything to add to the list, I’d love to hear from you.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Mom-care
What is it about a mother that makes her do things for her kids all the time? Even when no one’s looking? Even when no one knows? Especially her children.
I believe it is the God-gene in her – not in a scientific, physiological sense, but in a spirit sense. God’s fingerprint is on his creation. He breathed the breath of life into Adam, from whom he created a woman, and Adam named her Eve because she was the mother of all living.
Of course it is a God thing.
Who else would go through pain for our deliverance?
Who else would give without thanks and then give again anyway?
Who else would say, “I’ll take care of you,” and then do it even when we’re not looking?
Psalm 121:7 says,
The Lord will keep you from all harm –
he will watch over your life.
Yesterday, when the Toyota service department technician called me out to my car to see the split rubber on the inside of the left front tire, I remembered that verse.
It was the tire closest to oncoming traffic. All the other tires were in good shape. There’s an imbalance somewhere, a misalignment. The fix is easy, but the damages could have been horrific.
This is not the first time the Lord has watched over my life, nor will it be the last. Psalm 121:8 makes that clear:
the Lord will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.
There’s a little bit of Mom-care there, just like the little bit of God-care in the mother I remember.
Thank you, Lord.
Thanks, Mom.
I believe it is the God-gene in her – not in a scientific, physiological sense, but in a spirit sense. God’s fingerprint is on his creation. He breathed the breath of life into Adam, from whom he created a woman, and Adam named her Eve because she was the mother of all living.
Of course it is a God thing.
Who else would go through pain for our deliverance?
Who else would give without thanks and then give again anyway?
Who else would say, “I’ll take care of you,” and then do it even when we’re not looking?
Psalm 121:7 says,
The Lord will keep you from all harm –
he will watch over your life.
Yesterday, when the Toyota service department technician called me out to my car to see the split rubber on the inside of the left front tire, I remembered that verse.
It was the tire closest to oncoming traffic. All the other tires were in good shape. There’s an imbalance somewhere, a misalignment. The fix is easy, but the damages could have been horrific.
This is not the first time the Lord has watched over my life, nor will it be the last. Psalm 121:8 makes that clear:
the Lord will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.
There’s a little bit of Mom-care there, just like the little bit of God-care in the mother I remember.
Thank you, Lord.
Thanks, Mom.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Spiritual Backbone
When I last visited the chiropractor, he demonstrated for me the reason many people suffer back pain and stiffness. It’s all about posture.
I thought I knew what he was going to say, because I’ve heard it since I was a kid: “Sit up straight.”
But the chiropractor surprised me with a more vivid application. Sitting on the edge of a chair, he curled into himself, drooped his arms and shoulders forward, hunched his back, and dropped his head.
“This is how people sit,” he said. “And this is how they should sit.”
With that, he raised his head, extended his back and lifted both arms as if opening himself up to the world. It was the perfect position of praise.
Even in the physical world, we see a picture of a healthier spiritual posture: open, looking upward, arms wide to receive the blessings of God.
This little display made me wonder how my spirit looks to the Mender of my soul. Am I turned in upon myself, or am I open, looking upward, and praising him for all he’s done?
Perhaps a little more praise and gratitude will improve my gaze and attitude, and give me the strong spiritual backbone that I need.
I thought I knew what he was going to say, because I’ve heard it since I was a kid: “Sit up straight.”
But the chiropractor surprised me with a more vivid application. Sitting on the edge of a chair, he curled into himself, drooped his arms and shoulders forward, hunched his back, and dropped his head.
“This is how people sit,” he said. “And this is how they should sit.”
With that, he raised his head, extended his back and lifted both arms as if opening himself up to the world. It was the perfect position of praise.
Even in the physical world, we see a picture of a healthier spiritual posture: open, looking upward, arms wide to receive the blessings of God.
This little display made me wonder how my spirit looks to the Mender of my soul. Am I turned in upon myself, or am I open, looking upward, and praising him for all he’s done?
Perhaps a little more praise and gratitude will improve my gaze and attitude, and give me the strong spiritual backbone that I need.
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