Freedom....

I haven't written anything for a few days.  Things have come up, and I just haven't had time to do justice to it, so I have passed.  It is wonderful to have the freedom to do as I choose, not just in this, but in everything.

I am fortunate to live in a country where we can talk about anything and everything.  While less complaining would be welcome, I am grateful that we can express our feelings without fear of retribution.  We endlessly discuss everything from the president, the congress and the rest of our government, to the weather, the cost of food or the price of cars. People chew over jobs, family, friends, restaurants, school.  We have endless choices, and its still not enough for some, while too much for others.

There are those in this world who would take that freedom away from us.  There are those who are threatened by dissent, who cannot tolerate an opinion that varies from their own.  There are too many who believe their way is the only way, and who would seek to prevent others from having a different opinion.

This freedom I cherish comes at a high price.  Many lives have been lost retaining that wonderful gift of freedom, and more have been damaged.  No matter what our persuasions, we should all recognize the sacrifice of those who have given everything for us.

John 15:13:

Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends.

In this chapter, we have been commanded to love one another, and in so doing, we will bear witness for God.  All who follow him bear witness to his love through our love for one another.  It is pretty simple, really.  The sacrifice of our life for another is no more than Jesus did for us.

Today I am grateful for the freedom that has been bought at such a great price.  There is no way to adequately acknowledge the gift I have been given, both in the life I lead, and the eternity I look forward to.

Dear Lord, thank you for the gift of freedom to worship you as I choose.  Thank you for the willingness of others to sacrifice everything for me.  I recognize the priceless opportunity I have been given.  Amen.

Perseverance....

Children are great teachers.  They require us to change, to grow, and to be flexible in dealing with their fickle behavior.  Every day is a different adventure, and we are not given a manual, so learning is done by trial and error.  Having children is transformative for most people.  You must adapt your ways to deal with them, because children are demanding by nature, and their self-centered vision of their world has to be gradually molded and formed so that they will be good people, citizens, stewards of this life.  There is no immediate gratification in child rearing - it's a process.  Rewarding, but definitely a process.

One of the things children teach us, just to put a positive spin on things, is perseverance.  There is nothing as dedicated as a child who wants something.  They badger and wheedle and relentlessly pursue us, hoping to eventually grind down the adult who is nominally in charge and get what they want.  It is not a random accident that they keep trying.  They do it because, all too often, it works, and they end up getting their way.  Their perseverance pays off.

God relentlessly pursues us, even more eagerly than a child pursues their momentary desire, because he created us, and he wants to be in our hearts and our lives.  He is dedicated to us, and continues to seek us out, to be available, to be present, so that all we need to do is reach out for him.  He is present, he is persistent, he is right there waiting for us to simply accept him.

In John 15: 16, we are told,

You did not choose me, but I chose you...

What humbling words those are.  We are often rejected in life, but in the most important relationship we can have, God chooses us.  How grateful I am that God perseveres.  My eternal salvation is based on his loving desire to have me, unworthy and all too often inadequate, in his presence.

Dear Lord, thank you for recklessly loving me, yesterday, today, tomorrow and through eternity.  It is the gift that passes all understanding.  Amen.

In the eye of the beholder...

When I lived elsewhere, I would come home to Minnesota each summer for a couple of weeks to visit my mom and spend time with family here.  During that time, I always made a point of seeing each one of my aunts and uncles, because I missed them, and wanted them to know they were loved and cared about.  Usually I took the kids, because I wanted the kids to know their relatives, but sometimes I wanted the time just for myself.

On one such occasion, we were about to go back to Kansas City, and I knew my uncle was getting very fragile, so I wanted to see him one more time before we left.  He was in the nursing home, suffering from Parkinson's, and was getting increasingly frail.  He needed assistance with almost everything, and his life must have mostly been one frustration after another, because he was a very independent person.

He was in the dining room when I arrived, and he had his modified spoon strapped on to his hand.  He was struggling to eat, and I wanted to help him, but knew that he wouldn't want me to.  We talked a little bit, and then he said something I will never forget.  He swept around the room with his arm, then he said, "Look around you.  This is what it means to get old.  Enjoy what you have now, because this is not living."

He was very unhappy at that moment, totally focused on the flaws and failings of the people in that room, especially his own.  He was seeing everything he couldn't do any longer, and he was angry about it.  But that wasn't what I was seeing when I looked at him.  I was focused on his heart, where nothing had changed.  He still loved me, just as he always had.  And I loved him just as he was, just as I always had, because he was still that person to me.

I think God is the same way.  We focus on the flaws and failures, both our own, and in others, obsessing over what is wrong and how we are unworthy.  But God focuses on our soul.  He is interested in our intentions.  If we love him, trust in him, and accept Jesus as our Savior, he is there.  Nothing more required.  No matter how great the flaws.

Everyone knows Johns 3:16.  It is one of the most famous verses in the Bible, and is familiar even to those who know no other verses.

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

But that isn't actually the end of the thought.  It goes on to say something critical, which people often miss.  In verse 17, we are told,

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.

God has loved us from the moment he created us.  He knows every weakness, but he still sent his only Son, his perfect beloved, to save our flawed selves, for no reason other than he purely loved us.  Instead of focusing on what we get wrong, I am grateful that God sees my heart and loves me in spite of my failing human nature.

Dear Lord, thank you for seeing my heart when it would be easier to see my actions.  Your love is incomprehensible, and I am grateful.  Amen.

Be still....

When I started writing these daily thoughts several years ago, it was a Lenten exercise designed to honor Christ for his sacrifice by remembering the many things for which I am grateful.  It is easy to focus on the negatives in life, but for most people, life is filled with good things, if only we stop to consider.  But some days I find writing harder than others.  Some days inspiration is missing.  Sometimes, I am just sort of blank.  Today was one of those days, and I couldn't come up with anything this morning that seemed worth putting into words.

I resigned myself to missing this day, and figured inspiration would come tomorrow.  But it dawned on me, while driving home from work, just how grateful I feel for the quiet stillness of my home, and how very much I look forward to it each evening after work.  The barking of the dog is the only noise, and that is soon stilled when I let him out of his kennel.  It is a haven from the world, my little castle, so to speak, and I am so grateful to be able to find the peace I crave each evening in the comfort of my dwelling.

I was thinking of Psalm 46:10 as I drove home from work tonight.

He said, "Be still and know that I am God...."

That is what God wants from us.  To simply be still and focus on him.  It is so little to ask, and yet so hard for us to do.  It is all too easy to get wrapped up in the stuff of daily living - making dinner, doing laundry, homework, television, exercising - whatever we do in our off hours.

But the most important thing we can do each day is take time for God.  Talk to him.  Throw our cares to him and allow him to carry the burden for us.  Finding our gratitude for everything that went right in the day, instead of holding on to what has gone wrong.  Putting God at the center of our life, instead of keeping him hanging around the fringes, for whenever we get around to him.

I am grateful for the stillness, which gives me an opportunity to talk to the one who has given me everything.  There is nowhere I would rather be.

Dear Lord, thank you for listening to the words of my heart in the midst of the silence each day.  Amen.

Boots...

There is a line of demarcation across the world, dividing those of us who live with winter for half the year, versus those who don't.  (I didn't say we're smart - I'm just reporting, here.)  In the warmer, sunnier climes, people don coats and even boots at the dip of the mercury like a man in the desert gasping for water - you can't wait to wear them because they are cute or trendy, but you don't, strictly speaking, really need them for survival.  Frankly, I find this bewildering.

Up here in the northland, boots are a practical, functional piece of footwear, required to slog through six or ten or 15 inches of white fluffy stuff without getting soaked to the skin or losing a foot to frostbite.  They are not a fashion statement, they are a necessity, and most people put off getting them out (along with the heavy winter coats that weigh more than our first child) until we simply cannot wait any longer, because we know we will be stuck wearing them for months.  You see photos of people in LA and Miami wearing Uggs and fur coats, and, at least if you are from north of the line, you have to wonder what the point is, really.  Because in our world, we can't wait to put them away, again.

It is now mid-March, so we still have a couple feet of snow on the ground, but I am tired of my boots.  Yesterday, for the first time in months, I pulled out my cute little shoes to wear.  They aren't warm and they aren't practical for a Minnesota March day, but wearing them made me feel better - a harbinger of spring, and warmer days to come.  If I am wearing actual shoes - can Easter be far off?   At which point summer (nirvana) is just around the corner, although Easter is early this year, which is always a disappointment.  But I digress.

What do boots have to do with anything?  After all, I am grateful for the practical footwear which keeps me warm and frostbite free.  I need them for many months of the year, and I am fortunate to have them.  Not everyone does, and I know I am lucky.

But when I am wearing them, I am longing for a different season, one which I enjoy much more.  I love the sun, and the heat and the smell of fresh cut grass.  I enjoy the fresh air after a thunderstorm, and the feel of a summer breeze on my skin.  I love wearing flip flops and shorts and T-shirts and needing air conditioning.  What I do not love is snow and cold.

But God tells us to take each day as it comes.  In Matthew 6:34 we read

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.  Each day has enough trouble of its own.

While I am longing for the next season to arrive, I am not enjoying what this season has to offer.  This is true, not only of weather, but life generally.  We wish away the years we are given, waiting for the next season to arrive, thinking it will be better for one reason or another, without realizing the joys of the moment.  It is the human condition to be looking  over the fence and seeing the greener grass, and wanting it for ourselves without realizing there are a lot of weeds over there, too, if only we looked closely enough.

Today I am grateful for boots, which not only serve a practical purpose, but which remind me to slow down and enjoy the season I am in.  Tomorrow will come soon enough, with all that I look forward to, but today will be gone and never come again.

Dear Lord, thank you for the boots I wear, and the simple pleasures of this season.  I will try not to anticipate tomorrow, but instead, stop and enjoy this day you have given me.  Amen.

The off button....

We are in a world awash with information.  We know far too much about everyone else, and surprisingly little, sometimes, about those closest to us.  I do know want to know what Hollywood star is dating whom, whether they have had affairs or marital problems, or that their children are either successful or a mess.  I don't want to hear about the private lives of politicians, and I really don't want to know the intimate details of the British, Swedish or Norwegian royal families.

I believe in mystique.  I believe that we are better off not knowing everything about everyone.  I believe in personal privacy, not because I have something to hide, but because I simply don't think it's anyone else's business what toilet paper I buy or whether I use Verizon or AT&T.

Social media is here to stay.  Anyone who has deluded themselves into thinking the fad will pass has clearly not been paying attention.  It is difficult, in this day and age, to avoid it, because it is everywhere, and if you don't use it, you will be left behind.  But don't kid yourself.  These media sites do not exist for our benefit, whatever blather they may tout publicly about wanting to positively impact people's lives.  Quite simply, they exist to mine data about us, so that companies can throw ads at us to buy their products so they can make money off our personal details, which we agreed to provide for free in the fine print of every online transaction we have ever engaged in.

But there is this cool option called the off button, whereby you take control of your life and tune out for a little while.  I use it a lot.  I stop watching the news.  I quit worrying about what other people, whom I don't know, and whose lives only tangentially impact mine, are doing.  I read a book.  I do counted cross stitch.  I talk to my husband on the phone.  I FaceTime with my children and grandchildren.  I go out to dinner with my mom or my friends or relatives.  I shovel snow or mow the lawn or landscape or vacuum or engage in a hobby.  Real time, living life.

I love the ability to keep in touch provided by social media.  I enjoy seeing photos of my family and friends enjoying their lives.  Social media, in and of itself, isn't bad.  But I also enjoy tuning out of cyberspace, because the influence it holds over people's lives is scary sometimes.  Bullying, harassment, exposure, intimidation, fear - all are found on social media sites on a routine basis, and I find it overwhelming, at times.

In Psalm 37:7 we read,

Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him;  do not fret when people succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes.

Today I am grateful for all the small ways I can tune into what is real in my life.  I will rest easy in the knowledge that God is present in this place, and he is in control of what happens.  Even as I post this on social media, run by Google, and data mining each word I publish, God can use those words he puts in my head for his purpose, and not theirs.  The off button is in my hands.

Dear Lord, thank you for the off buttons you have provided in my life.  The brief moments away from the intrusion of the world are the moments of rest I need to live life fully, and I am grateful for them.  Amen.

Ordinary people....

In the overall scheme of things, I am an unimportant person.  I am not a mover or a shaker like Steve Jobs.  I am not someone who will change the course of history, like Martin Luther.  I will never be known for my brains, like Einstein.  I won't be remembered for my passion, like Carrie Nation.  I am not a great singer, or writer or artist.  I am just an ordinary person.  And I am okay with that, because being me is enough.

Ordinary people do extraordinary things every single day.  They teach children who don't want to learn, day after day, and sometimes they change a life because of their persistence.  They answer police and medical calls in difficult situations, seeing things that can never be unseen, and still answer the next call, anyway.  They change a tire for a stranger in need.  They pay for groceries in the checkout line for someone who is a little short.  They hold a child who is lost, they take in a stray pet, they go to work, they pay their bills, they love their families.  They do their best, each and every day, and because of all the ordinary people, the world continues to lurch along, more or less stable for most of us.

When the news gets too overwhelming, I often stop and remind myself that it is the ordinary people in my life who are important.  They are the ones who influence my days, who bring joy to my heart, who make me smile or laugh or cry.  In short, they are the ones who matter, in the only way that really counts.

In 1 Corinthians 12:14 we are told,

Even so the body is not made up of one part but of many.

I recently have battled a series of medical issues, piled one on top of another.  It has been a strong reminder of how interconnected and dependent the body is upon each part to work.  My aching hip caused me to shift my walk, and suddenly my knee hurt, too.  My injured neck caused pain into my head and down my shoulders.  The prednisone I took for the inflammation caused by influenza caused me to have blurred vision for weeks.  Coughing injured my vocal chords, and for the first time in my life, I couldn't take for granted I would ever be able to sing again.  My entire body hurt from tip to toe, and it made me realize that every piece of me was tied to another piece.  It didn't matter whether the place that gave me trouble was visible or not, when one hurt, I simply hurt.

So, too, are people tied to each other.  There are people who are more visible, but they are just people.  Like us.  They may make more money.  They may have talents we can only dream of, or they may simply have been lucky in life.  They may have fame or infamy, but in God's eyes, they are of no greater or lesser value than we are.  In fact, without the ordinary people like us to buy their music or artwork or products or go to movies or sporting events or put money in their investment funds or work for them or pay our taxes, they would have nothing at all.

When one hurts, we all hurt.  That is the human condition.  And it is rarely the famous or wealthy or important people who come to our rescue when we are in need.  It is the ordinary, every day people that we count on to make life better, day after day after day.  I am in good company, and I am grateful for all those ordinary people, who together, make my world a better place.

Dear Lord, thank you for all the ordinary people in this world, who make life better for all of us.  Amen.

Indoor plumbing...

I have long been an admirer of those hearty adventurers who set out from the already difficult, (by our standards,) life in the more settled areas of the country to venture into the wilds of the trails leading west.  Many of them were quite naive about the realities, thinking it would be a simple thing to cross prairies filled with overgrown grasses, not understanding how the lack of trees and water would impact their health and the progress of their journey.  Illness was rampant, and there were no modern medical facilities, filled with antibiotics and intensive care to bring them back to life when they were mortally wounded or ill.  And even if they survived the health woes, there was the danger of wildlife and the current inhabitants to threaten their security.  No running water?  No indoor toilets?  No morning shower?

I couldn't have done it.  If I had tried, I would have died before I was an hour out on the trail, no doubt.  I am not hearty.  I get sick at the whiff of a germ.  I am clumsy and fall.  And frankly, I am not all that brave, either.  What is that old saying?  The coward dies a million deaths, the brave die but once?  Ya.  I am one of life's cowards.  And I will admit it - I like indoor plumbing.  I would have been toast.

Except that I have the assurance of my Savior that he is always with me.  In Deuteronomy 31:6, we take comfort from these words:

Be strong and courageous.  Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.

These words, spoken after the Israelites had wandered in the wilderness for 40 years, were a welcome assurance that God had a plan, and they were part of it.

Even though I don't face the tribulations of the long ago pioneers, I do face my own trials each day.  We have to deal with things they never dreamed of, and our modern life would  perhaps cause them as much worry, in its own way, as their more rudimentary existence would cause us.  But the promise remains for all of us, whatever our life circumstances.  God is with us.  Yesterday.  Today.  Tomorrow.  Unfailing.  Forever.

Dear Lord, I am filled with gratitude that no matter where I am or what I am doing, I can call on you at any time, and you are right there.  No one, and nothing, will ever take away the comfort of your healing presence, and for that, I give thanks.  It fills me with courage to know you are with me, and your plan is perfect.  Amen.

Imperfection....

This morning, I awoke to the sad news that the child of a friend of a friend had passed away.  Her parents have taken a very public journey since before the she was born, one which the family shared through a blog and on facebook over the past few years.  I started following their life story originally because my friend would post updates, and I was praying for the family as they came to grips with the overwhelming situation they faced.  I have continued following over the years because their faith has inspired me and touched my heart so deeply.

Annalise was not expected to live more than a few minutes, and instead she lived for three years.  She had many medical problems, and her life, and that of her family, was difficult in a way that few of us will ever understand.  Her parents have the strongest faith and grit and determination; I can barely comprehend what they have been through.  What a sacrifice, and what a gift they have shared with everyone who has followed their story.

The thing that I find most inspiring about them is how they viewed the possibilities.  When told their child had no chance, they looked at the time they could have and planned it as positively as possible.  When minutes turned to hours, which turned to days and then weeks and months, they pushed the doctors for therapy to improve the quality of their child's life for whatever time they had her.  It was never about what she couldn't do, but rather, helping her maximize her time on this earth to do whatever she could, for however long they had her.

The glass has always been half full for them, even to these last couple of days, when they slowly realized they were going to lose her.

They have inspired thousands of people with their faith and courage in the face of the hardest battle life gives us, watching our child suffer.  It is impossible to know how many people have found their faith through the story of this family, and how many lives have been changed because of their courage.  They have been steadfast, and dedicated to the God who created their child, just as she is.

I take comfort from Psalm 139:14 this morning.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

When a baby is born, we want worldly perfection.  But God is unlimited, and his plan is perfect, even though we are not and never can be.  We may not understand the purpose, but some how, some way, even the imperfections are part of his plan.

Today I am grateful for the imperfections which revealed the faith and courage of people I admire and respect so much.  It is easy to be faithful when everything is going well.  But it is a true testament to remain faithful when life is challenging.  I am grateful for those who show us the way.

Dear Lord, thank you for the imperfections which reveal your perfect plan for our lives.  Please comfort those who are mourning this day, and bring them the peace that can be found only in you.  May all who are weary find hope in your loving presence.   Amen.

The Right Thing....

I have read surveys where people are asked the question,

"If you knew for certain you could get away with it, would you..." 

and then a list of options is named.  Whether it is stealing, murder, having an affair, or something less drastic, my answer will always be no, because I am not driven by what others think, but rather, by doing what is right.

When my children were young, and I caught them in wrong doing, I would always give them the same advice - it doesn't matter whether anyone else knows about your wrong doing, you know.  Right is right, and wrong is wrong, and it doesn't matter how many people know.  Do the right thing.  It's easier and better for everyone in the long run, especially you, because you will have peace of mind.

I have tried to live my life that way, although I am imperfect, and have certainly failed. But even when no one has ever found out about the failure, I knew, and that was one person too many for me.  Living with the knowledge that you willfully did the wrong thing eats away at the heart and soul, making life less than it should be.  That is why people confess to crimes, even years later.  The knowledge eats away at them until they would rather face the consequences than continue to have that emptiness of spirit that the cover up creates.

In Deuteronomy 6:18 we are told,

Do what is right and good in the Lord’s sight, so that it may go well with you....

I take those words to heart.  It is not always easy.  Whatever the situation, doing the right thing often takes courage and faith that, in the end, right is right, no matter the short term consequences to one's own life.  A person who knows right from wrong, and acts on that knowledge, is a person you can trust and admire because you know they are acting from conviction, and not just because they are afraid to get caught.

Today, I am grateful for those who do the right thing.  The example they set is a beacon of hope in a weary world.

Dear Lord, Thank you for those who set an example of doing the right thing.  Even in hard times, the satisfaction of knowing you have done your best gives peace to the soul.  Amen.

Money...

One of the most misunderstood quotes from the Bible is, without a doubt, 1 Timothy 6:10,

For the LOVE of money is the root of all kinds of evil.  Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.

People often go wrong on several fronts when trying to unpack what is being said in this verse.  We take it out of context.  We leave words out.  We twist it to say something it doesn't, because that fits our own narrative.  In order to understand this verse, we need the entire verse, all the words, and not cherry pick for our own purposes.

Nowhere in this verse does it say that money itself is evil.  Neither does it say being wealthy is bad. Paul was never one to mince words, and if that is what he had meant, he wouldn't have hesitated to say it.  Paul had lived a life of wealth, and saw the pitfalls he was warning against.  He understood there is no inherent virtue in being poor, and it is quite possible to do the right thing, even if you are rich.  It isn't about quantity of money, it's about the quality of how you use it that matters.  Taken in context, this verse is a lesson about the motives of false leaders, and the troubles we get ourselves into when we worship at the foot of someone temporal and transient, instead of the God of all eternity.

Jesus had followers from many walks of life.  He was an itinerant teacher, wandering from town to town to spread his message, and I am sure he had need for money to pay for food, some transportation and other items needed by those dedicated to his ministry.  In Luke 8:1-3, we are told that Jesus was supported by a number of women out of their own means, and we know from other passages that he had a few followers who came from wealthy backgrounds.  His disciples came from a variety of backgrounds, as well, and it's not hard to imagine that they, or their families, may have provided support along the way, too.

Paul was telling us in this passage that money is a tool, much like any other tool.  It can provide for needs, and it can assist us in reaching a goal.  But when the money itself becomes the object of our desire, that is where we run into trouble, because we shift our focus from what we are trying to build together to what we can acquire for ourselves.  We to me.  There was no me in the teaching of Jesus.  He lived his life, and died a horrible death, in the service of others.  That is our example, and how he expects us to live our lives.

We all need money to live, especially in this day and time.  We can no longer eek out a subsistence living, growing our own food and living in a cave or a tent or log cabin in isolation.  The world is simply too interconnected, and we are too dependent to go backwards now.  God doesn't criticize us for working hard, for supporting our families, for planning for retirement, for taking a vacation, for doing anything that money allows us to do.  But he also wants us to use our money for the right purposes, to put it into the proper perspective, to stay focused on the power of the cross and not the dollars we put in the bank.

I am grateful for the money we have to live a decent life.  I am thankful each time I pay a bill, buy food or care for my health that I can afford to do so.  God has provided for my needs in many ways, and money is just one of them.  It is up to me to use this tool in a way that glorifies the God who gave me everything I have.

Dear Lord, thank you for providing us with the money to support our lives and pay for the things we need.  I will keep sight of the real gift as I journey to the cross, and keep money in the right perspective.  Amen.

Hot dish....

Minnesota people are, by and large, rather reserved.  It's not that we don't feel as deeply as more obviously emotional people.  We do.  We are just more reluctant to wear our hearts on our sleeves.  It goes against the Scandinavian culture which pervades this part of the northland, and it is just not something that many Minnesotans are comfortable with.  But while most Minnesotans will not smother you with physical affection, their love comes out in other ways.  Mostly food.  The official love language of Minnesota, I have decided, is food.

I grew up in a rural area, where the norm was breakfast, A Little Lunch, dinner, A Little Lunch, and supper, followed by some ice cream or cookies or both as a bedtime snack.  We are the original foodies, with some coffee and dessert to finish up every meal.  It's a wonder we are ranked one of the healthiest states in the country, because we don't starve here.  (Lutefisk might also have something to do with that, but that's another blog post, and whether you love it or hate it, we won't get into that here.)

I had a dearly loved aunt (how I miss her) who didn't even let you get out of the car in front of the house without pulling treats out of thin air so she would be ready to feed you the instant you got in the door.  She was legendary for it, and for her generous hospitality.  I don't miss the food, I miss the love that went into making it, and the love she showed in sharing her delicacies.

My mother's best friend would learn you were coming, and she would whip up a little "nothing special" to be sure she had something to feed you when you arrived, even if it was just a five minute run by.  I ate many a treat sitting at her kitchen table while she hovered anxiously, waiting to hear the praise she knew would be coming.  Helen's "I love you" was to serve you delicious food, and she rarely failed in her offerings.

Food figured prominently in the life of Jesus.  If you read through the gospels, you will see many of the stories revolve around meal time, or eating.  Whether it was the wedding at Cana, the feeding of the 5000, or the Last Supper, food is important in the ministry of Jesus.  He was human, and he had to eat.  But in addition, he showed his love for others by the way he shared that time with all and sundry.  The social structure of acceptable society precluded eating with those of a lower class, a tradition Jesus broke with regularity.  Food was a love language for him, I think, and Jesus used it to break the ice as much as for breaking bread.

In Ecclesiastes 2:24 we read,

A person can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in their own toil.  This too, I see, is from the hand of God....

My favorite food is hot dish, I think.  There is something so warm and comforting about hot dish.  (In other parts of the country, they use the fancy term casserole, but I will stick with hot dish, because that is precisely what it is.)  It is a steaming hot combination of ingredients which, when baked for an hour and sprinkled with crushed corn flakes or bread crumbs on top to dress it up, sits in your tummy and warms you from the inside out.  Nothing says love like a hot dish, and we have an endless variety to choose from.

Best of all, hot dish can be made in advance.  Some of them are quite putzy, requiring a lot of time and work to put together.  But when the guests come, the food is already in the oven, bubbling and baking, giving you nothing more to do than pull it out and set it on the table when it's done, so you can spend your time with your guests.  It is the perfect dinner food, providing nourishment for both body and mind at the same time!

Today I am grateful for hot dish, because in good times and bad times, it is one way I know I am loved and cared for.  Just as Jesus valued his meal times with his friends, I too value the time I spend over a meal with those I love.  We feed the soul through the Word of God, but Jesus understood, on a human level, the importance of feeding the body, as well, and showed us how he valued that time throughout his life.

Dear Lord, thank you for the food that sustains us each day.  I am grateful that you worry about our bodies as well as our minds and souls, and provide for us in every way.  Amen.

Old clothes....

When I was a little girl, the first thing I had to do, every time I came home from anywhere, was to change out of the "good" clothes I was wearing, and put on my old clothes.  It was annoying, this interruption in my plans, and I had no appreciation for the reasons my mother insisted on doing this.

But I have... matured.  The older I get, the happier I am to come home and wrap myself up in my old clothes.  They are not the most elegant or prettiest clothing I own.  But they are warm and comfortable, even if they are a little frayed around the edges.  Sort of like me, maybe.

Aging is a sobering fact of life.  My joints ache more, I have a harder time getting over minor illnesses, my kids have started to worry about me a little because I get kind of flaky sometimes.  I can't multi-task like I did ten years ago, and working all day long wears me out in a way that I wouldn't have imagined when I was 40.

The old clothes welcome me home like an old friend, enveloping me in their thread worn coziness.  Dropping the work clothes into the laundry hamper tells me I am finally ready for a few hours of rest and relaxation before I start all over again.  

We all need rest.  We all need peace and comfort and a place to relax.  The long day makes us weary, and it is good to put our feet up and pamper our body, and our soul, for a little while.

I see God like my old clothes.  He is there, waiting for me, when I am weary and world worn, longing to cast off my troubles on him.  In Matthew 11:28, we read,

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

What a joyful promise this is, from a God who understands our daily routine and the responsibilities we carry.  He is promising an oasis of peace and comfort and safety in the storms of life.  How lucky I am to have a personal God who wants my burdens and soothes my sorrows.

Today I am grateful for my old clothes, and the reminder of God's loving embrace.

Dear Lord, thank you for my old clothes, and your grace which is fresh and new every day.  Amen.

Win/Win...

I don't remember a time in my life when music was not a part of my daily routine.  I started tickling the ivory keys of our old upright piano before I even went to kindergarten, and my mother, determined that I would learn to play "properly" and not all haphazard, started me on lessons.

I loved to play piano.  I had lots of books and sheet music, and played and sang for hours after school and on weekends.  What I did not love, however, was the practicing for lessons that I was required to do.  Books of scales, books of classical music, books that were designed to teach me skills I didn't understand the need for - it bored me, and I was a reluctant pupil, at best.

I also had chores to do around the house, one of which was wiping the dishes after Mom had washed them.  It was an annoying task - not difficult, but tedious, and I would rather have been reading a book or doing almost anything else.  Mom saw an opportunity, and took it, not realizing she was giving me a life lesson in negotiation I have never forgotten.

She made a deal with me.  She would wash and dry the dishes after supper if I would practice my piano lesson while she was working.  It was an easy deal to make - I would rather play piano than dry dishes, and I grabbed it, thinking I won and she lost.

What I didn't realize until later was that my mother, who also loves music, was winning, too.  She didn't mind drying the dishes - that was the easy part of the process, after all!  And she liked to hear me play, so she enjoyed the musical accompaniment to her work.  It was a win/win situation for both of us, and worked well for several years.  It was a great lesson in compromise, and taught me that it is possible for everyone to win, if you are creative in your solution.

She could have forced me to practice - she was the mom, after all, and there was never any doubt in either of our minds who was really in charge in our household.  But she was a crafty one, and found a way to make it pleasant for us both, allowing me to feel like I had some control over my life in a time when a lot of things felt beyond my control.

Sometimes there are winners and there are losers, and it cannot be avoided.  But often, if you work at it, everyone can get something they want, and everyone is the better for it.

Proverbs 15:1 says,

A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.

Mom knew that by forcing me to practice, she would take the joy out of playing for me, and too soon, I would quit and never do it again.  By gently giving me a choice (which she knew I would take) she ensured that the practicing got done in a way that would encourage, rather than discourage, my future musical endeavors.

I still play, almost every day.  I can spend hours at the piano, playing everything from contemporary songs to complex classical pieces, and it is all due to her.  Sometimes everybody really does win.  I am grateful for the wise mother who taught me early to look for simple compromises that make life better for everyone.

Dear Lord, thank you for my mother's wisdom.  Her gentle answers constantly soften hard situations, and show me the way to a better outcome.  Amen.