What did I Have in my Hands?

I had the car in my hands. . .and the knowledge to check it out. . .and the last name of the owner and where he had the car serviced.  And using what was in my hand, I was able to make a call and find out that the car needed about $1500-$2000 worth of work that the owner declined to have done in June. 

So although I am looking for a car again, I did get to see what using what is in your hands can do.

Time and People in my Hand

I approached yesterday with much trepidation, after all, 30 days of focusing on What’s in My Hand (OK actually 30 days focusing on anything for me) seemed a little unlikely. 

I thought most of the way to church about my formless day—what was in my hand were these elusive things called time and people.  Although I thought I might recognize people in my hand and respond appropriately (smiling, making newcomers know they were welcome, praying with someone crying etc.), I wasn’t so sure what using the time in my hand might look like. 

Immediately after church I left for “Lunch” at Costco – the buffet left me starving, and I admittedly didn’t look for people on the way to the parking lot to talk to.  Two breads on a spread that was only half as long as usual—thankfully I am not gluten (or butter, God forbid) intolerant—but I digress. 

Leaving Costco I headed to Robb’s to scoff down all the pre-packaged goodies I could get into my famished body-- but that left us at the odd time of 2PM.  The lack of indecision combined with the heat of the day and, perhaps, the importance we were placing on “what’s next” caused a little tension and found myself expressing my annoyance.  All the plans I had for ministering to complete strangers today had little impact on ministering to the man in my hand.  Part of being faithful with the people in your hand is opening up your heart and taking time to understand them—all of them.

The Pirate game started at 1:35 and I believed the music at the winery to be over at 3.  So by the time we would get to the game or music they would be half over.  We sat in the running car facing out of the driveway waiting for a direction.  Finally he said, “Let’s pray about it”.  Whew, good idea.

No lightning bolts came down.  No booming heavenly voices.  Neither of us “got” anything but the baseball game seemed more complex and the outdoor music at La Casa Narcissi seemed more of an environment to map out the plan he wanted to attack for the week so we headed there.  We sat alone and people-watched just relaxing and munching on calamari. 

The music actually was supposed to be from 2-5 so our choice turned out to be a good one.  Then at 5 another performer joined the current one and they played together for a while longer turning a good thing to a God thing.  Sabbath rest accomplished.

At one point enroute home Robb spotted a Nissan Murano for sale on the side of the road.  We pulled over to take a look—it was in great shape and priced right.  Larger than I needed but I saw how much time the car search had sucked up thus far and I wanted it over.  We called the number to test drive it.  The owner had just put it out 3 hours before after beautifully detailing it.  It was garage kept and you could tell he was meticulous about it.  They were selling it because they needed something with a third seat for the dog. 

I’ll take it to the dealer to be looked over today. 

To recap, I saw myself fail with the “man in my hand” . . . but took the failure as a lesson.  I think we did well discerning what to do with the time in our hand and were rewarded with not only an accomplished rest, extra unexpected music, but also, perhaps, freedom from having to restart the car search.  That alone redeems hours of time and frustration.  This could be an interesting month.

What’s in Your Hand?

What’s in Your Hand?

I can’t seem to get the phrase “What’s in Your Hand” out of my head.  It seems that that is the phrase that God has me contemplating lately. 

Honestly, up to this point, I had spent most of my time contemplating what is “not” in my hand.  I need a new car because mine won’t’ pass inspection without work that far exceeds the value of the car.  I need a house as the one I am living in is essentially owned by the state due to my mom’s nursing home debt.  I need a phone because the one that I have has reached the (planned by the phone company) end of its life and has snail-slow speed and erratic battery life.  I am a writer that writes far too little and hasn’t submitted much for publication lately.  I’m an aunt, sister, and daughter who isn’t deepening relationships.  These are the data points that consume most of my prayer life—what I don’t have. 

But God has been focusing me on something different- What’s in Your Hand?

So I intend to ask myself every day for the next 30 days, “What’s in Your Hand?”

Today is Sunday.  I will go to church, pick up some things for work at Costco and make a return at Office Max.  That should put me at about 1PM.  What I have in my hand is all of the people I will come in contact with and the balance of this day of Sabbath rest.  The big, un-replenishable thing I have in my hand is time.  I have the blessing of that time not having to be used on a project but a gift of rest.  Do I go to a park or a pool and read a good book? Do I take a hike and pray?  Do I go to a Pirate game?  Go visiting?

How do I use the gift of time in my hands today?

Down to a Piece of Paper

I wasn’t expecting. . .and thus I wasn't prepared for the sadness and finality of it.  I pulled close to the ATM machine on this rainy November Pittsburgh morning.  Generally I would have gone inside to make the deposit but the lobby wasn’t open yet; a blessing in retrospect. 

I inserted my card and typed in my PIN like I had 1000 times since I was sixteen but when I went to deposit the check it was as if I was letting go of my Dad on a little piece of paper.  This was the last thing to note Dad is gone.  The last thing to indicate, to cement, to make final that he is not coming back.  I almost didn’t want to make the deposit --as if it’s being sucked into the system somehow was voluntarily saying I willingly agreed with the fact that he was gone. 

In some families this may be thought of as money the individual didn't get.  To others this type of money may seem like  an unexpected windfall.  To me, however, this is unexpectedly more significant.  

I don’t know why I let myself, but I read the accompanying letter once again.  “DEATH BENEFIT STATEMENT” in bold letters across the top in black and white.  Cold and devoid of feeling.  Canada Life Assurance Co. . . .sending a Death benefit--ironic.  Beneficiary-me, a policy number, a claim number.  Insured-my Dad’s name—all spelled out like it never was except in the most legal of documents.  A name nobody probably ever called him except in the most significant of situations. . . a name his parents probably yelled out for emphasis.  And now no more will it ever be uttered that way, spoken sternly or even said. . .because he was gone. . .sucked into an ATM with nothing to show for it but a receipt that would fade within a year. 

What were the thoughts when that policy was first initiated?  No one could have predicted the life. . .or the death. . .or all that happened in between.  Love, babies, betrayal, triumphs, losses, losses, losses.  And now he is my loss.

Forgiveness and Compassion

Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And they divided up his clothes by casting lots. Luke 23:34 (NIV)

As much as I know that we are to stay away from anger and bitterness and forgive everyone “seventy times seven”, this doesn’t come automatically for me; I often have to consciously stop and think about it to make it a reality. While sometimes anger or resentment builds slowly because I have not chosen to rebuke these feelings, there are times when the moment sneaks up on me and I am in a rage before I even know what hit me.

Most of what I call “injustices” in my life, however, are small in the grand scope of things. I let a stray word, harsh text or unreturned phone call ruin a perfect day. I can’t say that I have had an experience anything nearly as severe as the injustices surrounding Jesus’ death--yet even on the cross, watching them divide his garments, he was not only forgiving them, but asking God to forgive them.

Jesus knew that it was Satan in them that was responsible for their ill behavior. He offered them compassion and forgiveness instead of judgment—even in his time of distress. Choosing compassion over judgment is what he calls us to as well.

More often than not, that stray word that almost ruined my day was not intended in a mean way. The abrupt text wasn’t meant to be harsh, but was the byproduct of someone in a hurry. And the person who failed to return the phone call had a perfectly good excuse. By not immediately flying off of the handle and instead seeking to understand. . .which takes a bit more patience. . .the “unjust” action is usually understandable and I am able to approach it with not only understanding, but compassion.

Lord, help me trade my ungodly feelings to compassion for those who hurt me. Help me see them through your eyes and not the jaded eyes of this broken world.

White Birch Logs

Before I formed you in the womb I knew [and] approved of you [as My chosen instrument], and before you were born I separated and set you apart, consecrating you; [and] I appointed you as a prophet to the nations. Jeremiah 1:5 AMP


Blessings don’t always come in the way you think they will They aren’t always large. . .or profound. . . or public. . .or, sadly, noticed. Yet blessings and miracles are there every day for those willing to look for them.

Robb had suggested two weeks ago that I replace the dusty, crumbling gas “logs” that have been in my fireplace for more than the forty-five years it has been capped off, with white birch logs. I would add it to my list of things that I somehow think are going to miraculously appear which currently includes: living room furniture, dining room chairs, new walls in both my kitchen and spare bedrooms. . .you get the picture.

I would have no idea where to get birch logs. I had never seen birch anywhere in log form outside of Christmas card photos. The fact is, I see very few birch trees alive. And lets just say I happened to run into a fallen birch on one of my travels—what is the likelihood it wouldn’t be damp and full of bugs or that I would have a saw or an axe to cut it up?

The following week I was on a work retreat at a twelve-room bed and Breakfast in Ohio’s Amish country. A fire was set in the fireplace in my room and it wasn’t until it was roaring that I noticed that it was set with white birch logs. Although it was too late to save the burning ones, there were several still wrapped in the canvas carrier on the hearth.

The following day I asked the innkeeper if I could have the ones that were left. He went on to tell me, for no apparent reason, because I surely didn’t ask, about how there was one lone birch tree on the property and that it had died and was cut up for firewood.

Here are the numbers as I see them. One birch on the whole property that died on some date in the past, was cut down, split, dried and out of twelve rooms that checked out the day I arrived, there were an armful of its logs sitting, waiting for me on my hearth.

If we ever think God doesn’t have a plan for us or that life is a random series of events, I just can’t believe that for a moment. Before I was even born God planted a birch tree in Ohio 200 miles from where I live. It grew, died, dried and was cut up and delivered to the room I stayed in on a particular evening in April. I never would have stayed there except for it being a Living Social deal that was about to expire the following week. Me and the tree ended up together one Monday night. Coincidences just aren’t that great. God, however, is. If God cares about our details. . .down to the wood that will never burn in our capped off fireplaces--how much more must he really care about us?

Hands and Feet of Christ

For just as the body is a unity and yet has many parts, and all the parts, though many, form (only) one body, so it is with Christ. 1 Corinthians 12:12 AMP

After my parents were divorced finances were difficult. Fortunately, My Mom, a new Christian, had a group of strong Christian friends who supported her spiritually and helped her grow in Christ through times of praise, study and prayer meetings. I don’t’ see many prayer meetings anymore, but these women prayed together every Thursday.

Each Christmas Eve my Mom, sister and I looked forward to bundling up and walking to church. The sidewalks of our quaint suburban were lined with luminaries made of paper bags, mason jars or milk jugs. There was a certain reverent hush as the candlelight danced on the blanket of snow giving the town a magical, hopeful glow.
The pine scented church was abundantly decorated with green-lit trees. Nestled among a dozen trees in a front alcove was the manger scene--everyone present except Jesus.

Exactly at midnight, the choir director’s wife would begin to sing “Oh, Holy Night”. As the song ambled toward its crescendo, Jesus would be carried slowly down the center aisle and placed in the manger.

It was a time of reverence, wonder and awe. Not because of the gifts we would receive, but because of the gift we already received—Jesus.

The year I turned nine, we walked home from church as usual, basking in the warmth of the music and the enchanting glow of the candlelight. When we reached home and opened the door, each of us, including Mom, was amazed. Pouring across the floor in front of the fireplace was an avalanche of gifts. It was obvious to this nine-year-old and her younger sister that Santa had indeed been there. It was more than we expected; more than we needed. We would have been content to spend the day together with a few gifts from the dollar store, but God and his people had other plans.
My Mom’s prayer group “got it”. Although it didn’t need to be a time of extravagant gift giving, God had given the rather extravagant gift of His son. . .and they, His other children, made in His image, followed suit. Not to impress, not out of obligation, not to have a “good deed at Christmas” crossed off of their to do list; they gave out of His love and extravagance toward them.

Like most Christmases, I can’t remember what I received, but what remains is the memory of friends who not only saw a need, but took time out of their busy holiday schedules to make a plan, meet the need and demonstrate His love. Friends who were truly His hands and feet.

Do You Really Want the Sledgehammer?

The LORD confides in those who fear him; he makes his covenant known to them. Psalm 25:14

When friends in our life present us a message, they often begin their approach with subtle suggestion. If they notice no change, often they will attempt something a little firmer. A true friend, though, will stick with you on an important issue until you hear; even if it means being so harsh that you feel like you have been beaten with a sledgehammer.

Let us be alert to hear the message when it is subtle and feels more full of grace like a feather. If not, we may find ourselves left bloodied and hurting from the wounds of a sledgehammer.

. . .so it is with my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. Isaiah 55: 11

Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life; again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up. You will increase my honor and comfort me once again. Psalm 71: 20-21

Don't Choose the Field Trip

Learn the lesson in the classroom . . .so that you don’t have to go on the field trip.

I’m thinking now of a friend that does not seem to choose to learn from the wisdom of others. Yes, I understand that the things suggested by the wise or by God-inspired words are not always convenient, not always easy, not always popular and don’t always feel good (see Colossians 2:8 below) . To throw the wisdom away based on any of these superficial reasons is to risk a painful field trip, and perhaps, risk taking innocent bystanders along for the ride.

I listened to a wise man giving advice to a friend. There were many common themes to his message: forgiveness, letting go, moving on. . .but there was one tangible piece of advice that he offered that was unmistakably concrete.

How is it that sometimes you understand the counsel given to others so clearly. . .and the intended party remains oblivious? They rationalize, explain, justify. . . all with no intention to implement. Should we not worry when we work overtime NOT to execute the wisdom bestowed on us or instead asking ourselves “Why do I protest so much?”

After a battle with the warring spirits of rationalization, explanation, and justification, we are left ruffled and uneasy. But when we take in the advice, consider it, and pray over it, even if, afterwards we don’t agree with it, we are left with a sense of peace.

God has blessed me with the opportunity to learn from other people’s experiences many times, but it is up to me to put this learning into use. . .lest, I too, end up on a field trip of my own.

I rejoice in following your statutes as one rejoices in great riches. I meditate on your precepts and consider your ways. I delight in your decrees: I will not neglect your word. Proverbs 119:14-16

See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the basic principles of this world rather than on Christ. Colossians 2:8

. . .A man is a slave to whatever has mastered him. 2 Peter 2:19b

Getting Dirty in the Muddy Water

In a home group I am in we are reading Radical-Taking Back Your Faith From The American Dream by David Platt. The first four chapters were. . .radical. By the fifth, though, we were getting to the part where we could begin to see the application of the material. The chapter was about Jesus’s relational model and making disciples. The most uncomfortable part for me was the fact that he “got dirty” with those he was discipling. He did what they did and went where they went. It reminded me of a John Eldredge term “we have to get into the muddy water with them”: the concept always gets to me.

I wonder, based on the conversations at home group, if we aren't already engaged in making disciples? From what I am hearing, most of us are engaged in looking for and acting upon opportunities. I'm not saying that it couldn't be deeper, or that we don't let opportunities slip through the cracks, but we are on the right path.

I remember studying Beth Moore's "Believing God". One of the daily activities was being intentional at recognizing God's hand in our lives. Being intentional really helped me see Him better. I wonder if being challenged to write down our acts of obedience or disciple making wouldn't make our group more intentional garnering us more encouragement to share weekly? So often when God presents a challenge to us he lets it be something easy to get out of. . .to sweep under the rug. . .to forget about. If we approached life more intentionally, I wonder if that little bit of accountability would produce more positive outcomes. . .and hence encouraging testimonies of the fruits of obedience.

During this season of lent when some sectors of religion encourage giving something up, I think, instead, I am going to try to be more available to opportunities. . .and to act on them quickly before the opportunity is lost or forgotten. I am going to record the encounter and the outcome to see the result of obedience. I am going to plant seeds and see if I can’t notice a little growth. . .if not in the others. . .than in myself.

She Speaks. . .after fifteen years

Fifteen years ago tomorrow I started what was to be a one-year hiatus from looking for a job in my field . . .and became a thirteen-year journey around the country and the world.

About every six months I would become antsy and question why I using a college degree to load luggage. Every time I would receive an answer that comforted me as to why I was placed at USAirways.

One time, though, I was particularly antsy. I said, “God, you know that I am your stupidest child. If you want me to leave here you are going to have to use billboards. . .in neon.”

Not three days later my co-workers and I were called into a meeting announcing the lay off our entire division. The other three-hundred employees were shocked, hurt and upset. I had to leave the room because a seemingly inappropriate ear to ear smile had plastered itself across my face. I had my answer, big as a billboard and bright as neon. . .I was free to write.

That was the easy part. Entering the new field of writing was not so easy. Slowly, though, I began to follow His leading and His articles were published.

As a writer I often feel alone. So when the possibility of a scholarship to attend the She Speaks Conference was forwarded to me by a dear friend, I knew that I had to go for it.

She Speaks features tracks for writers, speakers and women’s ministry leaders. I think the charge and encouragement I would receive would be a welcome infusion into my writing. It is also a wonderful opportunity to meet others and obtain expert advice and education to excel in this calling. I need a big dose of energy and inspiration. I pray that this scholarship will help me reconnect with a Big God who calls us to do Big Things for him and gives us the power to accomplish them with and through Him.

As I begin to reflect on my walk with God this Lenten season, I can’t help but think that I could be a whole lot more effective if my walk was a whole lot closer to Him. Knowing I was attending She Speaks and working fully up to that deadline would be a tremendous source of power for me.

Could it be a coincidence the contest deadline marks the fifteenth year of the beginning of my former career. . .I think not.

She Speaks Scholarship Contest 2011

http://lysaterkeurst.com/2011/03/she-speaks-scholarship-contest-2011/
http://shespeaksconference.com/

Prayer and Road Hazards

Lately my prayer partner and I have been beginning our day by praying over our daily needs. I have noticed, however, that the very things for which I pray are the very things that seem attacked throughout the day. It’s almost like I have given Satan a list that reads “Here’s where you need to attack me today-be creative and sneaky so I don’t even recognize it and get me right where you know I will fall for it.”

My main concern recently has been productivity; lately I have had a more intense schedule that I haven’t quite tweaked yet. Inevitably something comes along and jackknifes my plans, throws me for a loop, or gets me off task. I need divine intervention to proceed in my day in the most productive way.

I liken my life to driving down a road where Satan is throwing things in front of my car. Some of them cause me swerve to avoid them, while others make me pull over and take a look at them for awhile. When I am not focused on the goal, looking straight down the road ahead of me, I am easily distracted from my course. Unfortunately, he knows exactly what tantalizing tidbit will throw me off course: a gorgeous day that begs me to go for a hike, a coupon that just shows up out of nowhere announcing a big sale. . .that ends today. . . Even a seemingly “good” distraction, like helping a friend in need, can throw me off if that act of service was not intended for me to do.

In the most severe instances, Satan throws things under my wheels that poke holes in my tires and leave me wasting the day on the side of the road waiting for help.

This morning I was reading 2 Corinthians 4:7-12. Verse 8-9 says “We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.” From this passage I see that I can expect to be hard pressed with obligations, opportunities and tempting distractions. I can expect to have to make some difficult decisions that perplex me. But in all of this, I have with me a power that will not allow me to be crushed, left in despair or be destroyed. That power comes from keeping my eyes on the prize and keeping focused on the one who has my journey to that prize mapped out.

And in all of this “. . .we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what in unseen is eternal.” 2 Corinthians 4:16-18.

The question I need to ask myself and God is this, “Is the profit derived from this distraction more valuable than what has been planned for me this day?” Too often the answer is, “no“. He will help you decide. . .if you remember to take the time to ask. Stick close to Him, not as one riding with blinders on, but a one open to hear His directions over those that bombard you daily to turn away from the plan He has for you.

Moving Reflectins

I've been away from the computer for awhile due to another moving day. My Mom has been in a nursing home for almost a year and am moving into her house to help pay the bills there.

Moving is always a reflective time. You pack up your whole life into cardboard boxes salvaged from the grocery store, throw them into a truck and cart them to a new place to be unpacked. If you are organized, you get to view your life as a pile of boxes sitting idly there waiting for their future-your future. Your life is reduced to a pile of stuff.

One of the friends who helped me move had become a minimalist a few years ago. After a divorce he lived at a bed and breakfast for a year owning only his clothes and car. . .it's all he needed. No boxes of photos (yes, I used to print and hence have to store large quantities of them), no collected holiday decorations, no Pampered Chef utensils that he "just couldn't live without", no boxes of miscelaneous papers: clothes and a car.

I thought about how much easier my life would be with less stuff to pack, arrange, store, care for, worry about, account for, and beg people to move. I thought about how freeeing it would be to be able to fit my whole life into my car and go-where ever and when ever God called me to go.

Mostly, though, I thought about time; stuff demands your time. As a writer I look at the opportunity to live alone in my own home as a chance for uninterrupted days of writing. Time is essential to a writer. But as I sit at my desk to write I can not ignore the encroaching boxes. Instead of writing, I find myself sorting through my stuff, my Mom's, my aunt's, and the stuff of many deceased relatives. Too often it isn't worth the time. Even the time spent selling it is so often not worth it-because, after all, it's time that I need. Money can't buy me time. Every hour I spend sorting or selling is an hour I am not spending writing.

Then again, I can't just throw it away-it's my life, my history, my heritage. I have to weigh the cost of keeping it all, "What am I giving up keeping it-in regards to time. . .and sanity?" I am called to be a writer. When I am, what is essentially wasting time, caring for this debris, I am not fulfilling this mission. Who suffers when I waste this time? The very people who I am supposed to be reaching-that's a real price I am paying.

Wrestling with this subject forced me to look at Matthew 6:19-20 in a whole different way, "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal." I am admittedly spending time storing up junk which will be destroyed, and choosing to do this as opposed to doing something with my time that will last. I think it's easy to justify "good" things we do in our lives that eat up our time (even if they are not the things we are called to do-the best things), but how often are we taking time holding onto pure junk?

I guess you'll know how I resolve this issue if you don't hear from me next week. I pray that I will be able to keep the cost in mind and save the sorting for a big bout of writers block. . .or the next move. Don't worry Dena, Robb and Ian, I'm getting movers next time.

Fruitless Studies Become Fruitful

I've been thinking a lot lately about Bible studies. For years I attended them faithfully, completed my homework, shared in class and agreed with the other women about particular points that "really touched my heart". But did the homework, attendance, faithfulness or tears of conviction result in a change in my life? Yes, I learned more about scripture. . .and that's good. Yes, I learned how we are "supposed" to be, live, react, love and the like. . .but did this knowledge prompt me to actually be, live, react, and love more like Christ? I can't say that it often did; at least for long. Worse yet, did the lack of implementation in my own life set my accusing finger lose to legalistically point out the faults of others while my own life remained stagnant?

I must admit-guilty on all accounts.

The last study I participated in was different, however. It was a revised version of one that I had completed several years ago. The difference this time, I believe, was in the conviction that the study didn't "work" the first time. After all, if it doesn't "work", I am just wasting my time. . .for a second time in this case.

I began to approach the study as "all about me" (yes, it can be all about you): my change, my growth, my heart seeking to be one with God's. Lasting change began deep within. It "worked". And since the change occurred within my heart, I can now help others in their journey, not as an accuser or a fixer, but as a humble soul who has traversed the road and come out at the other end, able to share how God changed my life.

I pray that you will allow God access to the deepest places in your heart. And when you overcome something that has held you back, that you will freely share with others and see them set free too.

Glory in Oregon

I've been away for the better part of two weeks driving without a plan in beautiful Oregon. For days on end we were beset with an endless stream of majestic waterfalls that crashed into wild and scenic rivers raging to the delight of fisherman and outdoorsmen alike. Turbulent ocean waves pounded the rugged coastline while sea lions barked loudly and lounged lazily as grey whales spouted unpredictably to the delight of eager onlookers. Rose and white starfish clung patiently along side pale green anemone at the base of oceanside monoliths for the tide to come in and bring them food and water. Mountains spilled their dark green forests onto miles of seemingly endless sand dunes that ran into the ocean. Beaches sat wide and long at the base of sheer cliffs inviting beach goers, donned in sweatshirts, to build rock fortress wind shields and sunset fires on their fine sand. I took 835 pictures. . .and that was just with my own camera. Frankly, after about a week, my eyes almost hurt from the pristine beauty and I hoped for a break from saying "this is so gorgeous". It was too much of God's glory. He picked this place to show off and the people of Oregon chose to respect it and keep it beautiful. Thank you.

It made me think of the many other ways God manifests His glory. In my life it was an impossible-to-earn, last-minute, full-ride college scholarship awarded, a perfect little baby nephew adopted after many failed attempts, my first article published, (fast and nontraditionally), and a down payment, and the payments for the entire first year, for a new car paid for by "baby sitting", for an 18, 22 and 24-year-old.

In the lives of others I have seen His glory in marriages restored after repeated infidelity: healed to better than could ever have been imagined. I've witnessed insecurity conquered by finding significance in Christ. I've seen tests passed, pain redeemed and the lost returned down to something seemingly insignificant like an out of print book discovered at a flea market on a dreary Saturday morning.

Finding His glory in our lives requires that we look for it. It's realizing that we are not solely responsible for our successes and blessings and not taking such credit for ourselves, but, instead, giving the credit, the glory, back to Him.

It's giving Him the glory by casting our crowns at His feet: it gives us the opportunity to humbly offer His blessing back to Him. Brag on him with this faithfulness and the glory will be multiplied-his name given renown. You, being shown worthy, will be further blessed.

Look for His glory in your life today. If you don't know where to look, ask Him to show you. Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened. (Matthew 7:7) He loves to give good gifts to His children who ask.

Transparency and Love

Have you ever been entrenched in a life-situation and find yourself saying, "This is so not me! how did I get involved in this?" A relatively new friend and I shared two such situations yesterday.

I shared my story (long periods of unemployment due to lay offs, a condemned apartment and a resulting less-than-desirable living arrangement) as a way to lay it all on the table and say, "for better or for worse, this is where I came from."

He shared his story, more recent, if not current, as a way to let me know what I could be getting into and. . .quite frankly, if it was too much for me, to give me the chance to run. Instead of scaring me, his honesty and caring transparency actually endeared me more to him. He shared out of love with the potential for loss.

Don't get me wrong, I am by no means saying that we should bare our hearts to everyone we meet, but, perhaps we should be working toward that type of honesty in our inner circle. How much we would grow if we could only be in a place in our established relationships where our hearts were receptive to people: where we could share with transparency instead of holding back for fear of judgement or rejection and loss.

I pray that being transparent in a relationship could bring you closer to someone: help you know, understand, appreciate, direct your prayers for, and, ultimately, love them more and better. Without sacrifice do we really have love? Love is patient and kind, not envious or boastful. Love is not proud, rude or self seeking. It's not easily angered or grudgeful. Love rejoices in the truth. It protects, trusts , hopes and perseveres. . .always. (from 1 Corinthians 13) Are we willing to share and hear the truth? And after sharing and hearing, are we willing to protect, trust, hope and persevere. . .willing to love?

What are your intentions?

In prayer it is better to have a heart without words than words without heart. John Bunyan

This quote appeared in a book I am working through Give Me 40 Days by Freeda Bowers, a forty day journal focusing on praying for others. The focus scripture for today was Hebrews 4:12 The word of God is alive and active, sharper than any double-edged sword. It cuts all the way thourgh, to where soul and spirit meet, to where joints and marrow come together. It judges the desires and thoughts of man's heart. Verse 13 adds, there is nothing that can be hidden from God; everything in all creation is exposed and lies open before his eyes. And it is to him that we must all give an account of ourselves. GNE

I think I had always studied the first part of verse 12, never giving much thought to the last sentence about judging the desires and thoughts of our hearts. Freeda Bowers writes about checking our heart to ensure we are praying out of the right motives. Her example is praying for a son who is on drugs: are you praying simply because he is an embarrassemnt to you? Another example is of a woman praying for the salvation of her mother. "Why?, Freeda asked her. "So she won't go to hell." Bowers felt prompted to tell her that "everything done in the earth is to be done solely for the purpose of bringing glory to God (1 Cor. 10:31.) That even means salvation."

It made me think about some of my prayer requests. As I'm praying for Daniel and Jason to become men of God, am I praying this to avoid the complications and my own heartache should they choose another path? When I am praying for health and healing in my relationships is it just so I can be comfortable in my life?

How are your intentions in relation to prayers?

Deep South Magazine

For more information about tubing in Helen, Georgia and all the rest there is to do there, check out my article that was published yesterday in Deep South Magazine at http://www.deepsouthmag.com/?page_id=1611.

Helen is a great multi-season destination four couples and families alike. I had friends who got engaged there twenty years ago (can it really be that long?) and it is even better than I remember it from back then.

Tubing and Trust

I recently returned from a trip to beautiful Helen, Georgia, nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Running through the middle of town is the Chattahoochee River where on a summer Sunday over 10,000 people float lazily down the river to relax and refresh in the cold mountain water. It made me think about tubing. You tube because it is restful-you don't have to do anything but lay there and float. Occasionally your rest may be disturbed by running into something or someone, but basically, it is just laying back and letting the water and the tube connect to get you where you are going.

I think that is the same way God wants his relationship with us to be. He wants us to lay back in his caring, capable arms for rest and refreshment. Sure, we may hit an incidental rock, or run into another person-but He's got things covered. Our job is to trust in him, rest, and end up at the end of our journey refreshed, having spent the journey in His all-knowing arms.

It's nice to know something in life can be simple; simple, I said, too often though, not, easy.

I attended a praise, prayer and healing service tonight. The woman who prayed for me, among other things, said I had to forgive. She gave me her method of telling the offenses to God, on paper if necessary, going to the word and speaking it over the hurts and, when Satan brings it up again, telling him to get lost, "I've already given this to God."

I started to think more deeply about forgiveness. It's not just big, obvious infractions we need to forgive. We need to forgive people for acting selfishly toward us. For things that hurt us that the other person might not have even meant maliciously. We need to forgive people who just don't know any better. Instead of judging their ignorance, we need to look at ourselves as being in an excellent position to pray for them to gain wisdom, and healing for the area that is broken. We need to look at it as if we were put there by God "for such a time as this."

We so often are told to look for the good in the pain--for once we can be a part of the good to come through such prayers. In the long run, we can be on the side of our "offender" where we can meet in the name of victory through healing. I feel a little better already.