Tools for the Trade

When I was 19 years old and a student in Acting School, I worked with my Dad, who was a carpenter by trade, on a building project. On weekends he was repairing and rebuilding a fire damaged duplex he owned. He would pay me (more generously than I deserved) to pound nails and spread stucco. It was during that time that my Dad taught me how to use a hammer correctly. I had used a hammer many times before, but it was then that I learned to hold it in a manner that the hammer would do the work--and not my arm.

As a wedding gift my Dad gave me a tool kit made up of a hammer, tape measure, a level, a wrench and other handy gadgets--all with traces of the color pink. I guess he knew that in my new home I would need tools, and that I would no longer have the unlimited resources of the garage of a Licensed Contractor. 

Tools for the trade. Not the blueprints. And not the finished product. Simply the tools to get me to where I was going. 

Today, our lives and the lives of our children have been inundated with new tools--media tools. Everywhere we look we see the big blue f, we catch a glimpse of a blue bird as she goes twittering by, and we are encouraged to "get an app for that". Each generation has a new frontier to navigate--and this land of technology and social media seems to be theirs. And so, the way that I parent has had to find ways to incorporate that which they are drawn to, that which is just a normal part of their lives, into the things I want them to discover about themselves and the call that God has on their lives. 

In my church's worship service this week, our Pastor shared a quote from Dr. W Edward Deming, from a time Deming was speaking to top management leaders in Japan during the 1950's--he was encouraging them on how to improve design, product quality and testing. At one point in the lengthy quote, Deming says, "Improve something every single day!" And when I heard that, I was reminded of my children and the goals they are trying to achieve in their own lives. And the strides that I want to see them make in achieving their goals. 

We are called to use this tool of media to get our children to stretch and strain--to grow little by little. By doing this, the tools REMAIN tools and the children become better equipped to use them correctly. 

Last night, my married daughter and I were discussing her starting a blog. Well, actually, I was telling her that I thought she should. She just got a fabulous camera and I have some great photo editing tools. I know how much blogging has inspired me, and I would love to see that creativity EXPLODE from inside of her. I would love to see her develop an interest she has into a creative passion that the Lord can use in exciting ways. How do I know the passion will explode? 

I guess I don't. But, I still need to hand her the hammer and show her how to use it. And if the blog is the tool--then great! We are already a bit of a blogging family. And I encourage it all.

My older son has one blog called Sill on Life, where he shares his thoughts and sometimes writes poetry. He has another blog titled Sill on Film --where he sometimes reviews movies. It doesn't define him, but it is there for him when he wants to express.

My youngest child, also a son, has three blogs. He has one, that he writes on most frequently called Curiously Bizarre--where he practices his writing skills with both fiction and non-fiction. And he has two fiction sites--one is the story of a Superhero, Knight Phoenix, that my son created in Elementary school. The blog is titled, Angel of Fire and the other is the journey of the Biblical characters David and Saul, in a turn of the century American Western setting--called The Chronicles of Samuel. You can visit them if you are so inclined. Honestly, it doesn't matter to me if you do or you don't. Whether people read what my sons are writing or not doesn't matter, what matters to me is that they are using their gifts. 

   

Through the time that we have been "playing" with our blogs, I have watched as my sons have been discovering new passions. Passion for poetry, passion for expression, passion for writing. Through these passions their lives will unfold as they discover ways to use their gifts to serve the Lord and further his kingdom.

So, as I hammer away at these keys on my keyboard I ask my Heavenly Father each day, "Am I doing it right?" And, in the times that I feel His encouragement, I do all that I can to pass that along to my children--no matter how old.

"Blessed be the Lord, my rock, who trains my hands for war, 

and my fingers for battle" 

Psalm 144:1

Six Word Ordinary Saturday Adventure

 

Okay, well, if you don't know me...maybe that is a little misleading. I am not a "sister wife" nor, am I a jilted lover. I am, by the grace of God and for reasons I don't always understand, a Pastor's wife. 

It 's a good life. 

Now. 

Actually, it has been a good life the whole time. It was just that there were a few years where my perspective was a bit off. Somewhere in the closet of guilt and grief, I allowed boxes of bitterness and selfishness to pile up. These were ugly boxes full of spiders and snakes, and every once in a while one of the creatures would crawl out of the closet and into the place that could have been pleasant. 

But, long story short--the boxes aren't there anymore.

And, today, my man, my husband of almost 24 years, is performing a wedding ceremony for a young couple at a beautiful venue in Newport Beach, California. And, I get to watch without any spiders or snakes to ruin my day.

Happy Six Word Saturday. Happy me. 

Just Have a Taste

"This is so good... just have a taste!" 

And then my life changes forever. I am 20-years-old and I am sitting in Angels Stadium at a Billy Graham Crusade and the Lord nudges me to make the trip to the bottom of the stairs and across the grassy field.

A new fullness is coming my way that I had never known before. A new way to see myself and a new understanding of the world around me. And in this moment, I don't fully understand that this craving I have to be filled with the presence of the Lord will not go away completely. I will have many days where I wake up with a longing to be filled. And while I may wish that I could feel full all the time--this feeling is actually a gift from God. The needing to feel full is what will drive me to Him--to make me full. In order to be filled with His Spirit I have to draw near to Him. 

But, on this day, I know none of that. I only know that I want a taste.

Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good. Psalm 34:8

Two Men and a Window

This is an old story of two old men who were living out their days in a hospital, confined to their beds. As I thought of this fable today, I knew that I was supposed to share it with you. I had to write it from memory...I hope you enjoy!

The beds were uncomfortable. The sheets were scratchy. The white walls were barren. It was one of the poorest hospitals in the bustling city. People who worked in the hospital were underpaid and over-worked and there were very few volunteers who came to the give of their time.  The old people in this hospital knew that they had been put there like a book on a shelf. After finishing a book, you no longer need it, but you cannot throw it away.

On the 3rd floor, there was a room on the west side of the building where two old men lived. The room was actually much too small to accommodate two beds, but, due to the over crowding and underfunding of the hospital's budgetary needs--the two men had to share the room. It was easier for the nurses this way, as well. For they were so busy, they didn't need to come and check on the men. If something happened to one of them, the men would simply holler for help until a nurse on the ward heard them and came.

In this small room, there was but one window and you could only see out of the window if you were in the bed that was nearest to its opening. The man who had been in the room first was closest to the window--and so his bed remained there when the second bed was added. The first man could see the street, the second man could only see the first man.

The first man would think of his life and remember it well and he would say, "I am so blessed. I lived many years with my wife and though we never had children, we had each other. I am so blessed because even though she has gone on to Glory, I know that she does not suffer that and one day I will join her."

The second man would answer the first man and say, "I am not blessed. My life has been hard. I worked day after day to build my home and to take care of my family. My children are too busy for me, and when they used to bring my Grandchildren to see me--the kids were too loud. Now my wife has died and I am alone. And one day...I will die all alone."

And, so they lived together, but saw the world quite differently. And the only time that the second man ever felt a twinge of happiness was when the first man would share his window. For, although they could not move the beds, the first man would look out the window and share with the second man all the events that were happening outside on the street.

The first man described the park, with its sparkling green grass, winding walkways, and its wooden benches. And most of all, its people

"...the trees have leaves that have turned dark purple. And near the sweetest tree, there is a bench. Today on the bench, I see two young lovers. He is wearing a baseball cap and she has on an orange flower print skirt. Oh, my! He is getting down on one knee. Well...I'll be...he is asking for her to marry him. She is crying now and hugging him! Well, I guess she said yes."

The first man described the people he would see with such detail, that soon the two men had nicknames for the people in their park--the people so busy with life. 

"...well, it looks like Harry the Hurried is late again, he's trying to tie that tie while he rushes through the park. The darn fool doesn't even notice Linda the Lonely Lovely Wallflower is wearing a new dress and has been watching him everyday for the last two weeks. She sits on the same bench day after day watching him go by. If he would just slow down, he could find such happiness..."

Day after day, for hours, the first man would tell the second man what he saw out the window. Then one day, a thought occurred to the second man, "Why do I have to only see the world through his eyes? Why can't I look out the window? If only he were gone then I could sit in his bed. If only he were gone then I would get to enjoy the view for myself."

And the second man allowed these thoughts to grow. And grow. And it wasn't too many days later that the first man had a difficult time breathing during the night. He called out to his roommate, "Friend, I cannot breathe very well...help me, my friend, call for me a nurse..."

And even though the second man heard the pleas of the first man, he turned his head to the wall and pretended to sleep. He closed his eyes tighter than ever and imagined the park with its sparkling green grass, winding walkways, and its wooden benches. He imagined the people walking thought the edge of the park and thought of how nice it would be to finally be able to see them for himself.

Morning came and the nurses came around and found that the first man had died in the night. They quickly moved him from the room and left his bed empty. The second man called to them a few hours later and asked, "Can I be moved to the bed near the window? Can you do it today? Can you do it now, so that I might enjoy the view while I grieve for my friend?"

And so the man was moved and the blinds were adjusted so that he might be able to see. And when he turned his head to see the park, he was struck to the core and filled with grief for his friend who had loved him so. For out the window there was no view--there was only a brick wall. A wall to block any view that there might have ever been. 

And when the man faced the brick wall to grieve for his friend, he grieved also for a park that did not exist, lovers who did not sit on a bench and people who were never there. And in the end, the bitter man was right about all claims he had made for his life. He did die all alone.

When a Chair Becomes a Throne

One sharp act of separation. I can completely identify with this moment. I lived it, and I have the scars to prove it.

photo credit: Rembrandt / Wikipedia.com

A long time ago there was someone who thought he was going to have to live through "one sharp act of separation". That man was named Abraham and he had a son, late in life, named Isaac. Abraham loved his son so intensely that his son actually became an idol to him. Finally, God told Abraham to sacrifice his son. God told Abraham to take his son up on a mountain and slay him as an offering to the Most Holy.There is no doubt in my mind that Abraham would have rather taken his own life than the life of his son. But, he trusted God and was ready to make the sacrifice that God wanted. And, then God spoke and the plan was revised.

Pretty extreme, huh?

And, I wonder, do I do what Abraham does with my children? Do they slowly creep into the place where I am allowing them to reign on the throne of my heart? Unintentionally, I can allow myself to drawn into a place where I am so fascinated by what I can see, that I don't seek that which I cannot see. 

My daughter died 16 and a half years ago, and I long to see her again. But, the truth is simple--she cannot be the reason that I want to go to Heaven. She is not good enough for that. She is not pure enough for that. 

There was a verse that struck me, as though it were new, about a month ago. I was taken with it, so I wrote it down and hung it in my shower. (This is a great place to meditate on scripture and keep your faith fresh...and clean ;)

 "We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body."

2 Corinthians 4:10-11

While I was staring at the verse one morning, a thought occurred to me:

"I cannot carry around the death of my daughter. I have to carry the death of Jesus. The death of my daughter does not profit anyone. The death of Jesus has the power to save everyone."

I would never do it to harm anyone, and I would only be motivated out of a love for her-- yet, it would grieve the heart of God if I allowed her life, her face, her story to reign in the place reserved for the Almighty. It would distance me from God if I allowed her chair to become a throne. 

As the days of my life unfold, I don't want my story to merely reflect a woman who lost a child and endured, I want my faith to be constantly evolving and I want the Creator to be able to use me in the life I am living, not merely in the past I survived.

For more stories and pictures about the Rocking Bear Chair 

{pictured above} 

visit my family blog and see the photo shoot in The Truth about the Chair. 

To read thought provoking posts and posts on keeping your faith fresh,
visit these sites that I am linking with today

Topsy Turvy YOGA...for a cause?

photo credit: www.thiscrazyweb.com

I love Yoga...or wait, let me say that again. I love the idea of Yoga. I can imagine myself doing Yoga and it looks awesome. But, when I look in the mirror while I attempt it, it doesn't look so great. It's the illusion that I enjoy, not the reality. The reality of me doing Yoga is painful and embarrassing. The reality of me doing Yoga is when mirrors collide. Up looks backwards and down looks insane. It becomes a topsy turvy world--and I am at the center.

But most of the things happening in our world are topsy turvy, aren't they? Take the issue of feeding the homeless. The cities where there is greater wealth have a harder time taking care of their indigent than the cities with a lower median income. The richest nation in the world has people suffering from malnourishment. And, it's a little upside down when we have to explain to Christians that we should help. The belief that it is a political issue and that the welfare system needs to be revamped is argued as if anything that is decided in Washington DC would ever excuse what Jesus has called us to do as individuals.

photo credit: www.giantbomb.com

And then the Topsy Turvyness of it all assaults my senses. I open my pantry and I see my excess and I choose items to give away. But, I could do more. I could give more. I could give up things that I have and do more.  I could...give...but what?

In my community there is a prestigious workout center that does Yoga. I would never go there--because watching me do Yoga is not a reality that I want anyone else to have to endure. And I am comfortable in my NOT going--because going would take money. 

But what happens when mirrors collide and it is actually a benefit to someone else for me to go to Yoga? Bikram Yoga in Covina is hosting a food drive. Bring in 5 cans of food and get a Yoga class for FREE. Yep. During the weekend of July 29-31st ~ Yoga Yourself for Families in Need. The food will be distributed through the Bumper Bag Ministry of Christ Church of the Valley in San Dimas. You can find details about the event on Facebook HERE or contact Janna Mascarin, in the CCV Food Ministry to make a food or monetary donation (jannam@ccvsocal.com)

When we truly, truly give of ourselves, up looks backwards and down looks insane. It becomes a topsy turvy world--and Christ is at the center. And, I love the idea of that!

Linking today with Holly to Pay It Forward :)

The Tweets of King Henry the VIII

I've heard people complain that spending too much time on-line can cause problems in your marriage. Couples who were "doing just fine" suddenly have issues because he is always online playing fantasy football and she is always online adding more and more pins to her boards on Pinterest.  Before too long, she Stumbles Upon an old flame and sparks begin to fly. In the mean time, he is so busy playing with his new ipad, he doesn't notice there is a problem until she has changed her status from "Married" to "It's Complicated". 

After considering these thoughts, I couldn't help but wonder if that is what went wrong with King Henry the Eighth. Think about it, while on the throne, King Henry VIII went through six wives, so perhaps the problem was all the time he was spending twittering Anne Boleyn when he should have been home comforting Catherine. 

KingHenry King Henry 8

Music Monday: “Swing Life Away” by Rise Against http://plzretwt.me/jl431 via @AnneBoleyn...You are all I dream of.

AnneBoleyn Anne Boleyn

@KingHenry Swing your life away from Catherine...right now! I will give you A SON #Royalty

Let's face it, if King Henry had not had all the distractions that come about from the internet, surely he would have had a successful marriage with Catherine. Or at least the second time around with Anne Boleyn. Or surely in the third one with Jane, after Anne was beheaded? Right? Surely, the reason his marriages were so tumultuous was because he lived in a time of too many modern conveniences and too much temptation.

It really is ironic when we blame a tool for the havoc that occurs in our lives. The internet, on it's own merit, doesn't have the ability to make my marriage good or bad. Just the same as my oven--on it's own accord--lacks the ability to make my dinner tasty. 

The ingredients that I pour into my marriage are going to define how it is going to come out. If I pour into my marriage an attitude of selfishness it doesn't matter if I am blogging, knitting, or rebuilding the transmission in my car. The thing that is distracting me is merely a tool for this age. There has always been distraction. 

Ephesians 5:15-17 was the scripture used by the Pastor in our church this morning as he was encouraging us to slow down and aim for a lifestyle that is not characterized by busyness.

"Be very careful, then, how you live--not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord's will is."

As he was sharing the verse, I immediately began to write down "making the most of every opportunity..." and before I could even finish my scribbles, he said

"Most people focus on the words: making the most of every opportunity. And they don't look at the words before it. " 

Wait. What? I had to drop my pen and just stare and listen. Everything in the media, everything in the world--especially in the great big LAND OF OPPORTUNITY tells us to "seize the day!"And you want me to listen to the words before it. What the heck were the words before it!?

"Be very careful, then, how you live--not as unwise but as wise"

The bottom line is this. Having more and more available to us is all in vein, if the more and more is taking us away from being the person we are supposed to be. God created me to be in a relationship with Him. That is THE MOST important relationship that exists for me. The second most important relationship is the one with my husband. So, if I am not meeting my husband's needs because I am blogging, or because I have to check in with my 6500 friends on Facebook, my priorities are out of whack. However, if I am not meeting his needs because I am spending 12 hours at the gym--the same rules apply. If I am selfishly pulling away from him to have my needs met elsewhere, that is the problem.

It's not the media or the social networking that pulls us away from our spouses. It's selfishness. 

Linking today to continue my count of the 1000 Gifts in my life, with a nod to the theme for today on Media Mondays: Media and our Marriages, and Hear it on Sunday, Use it on Monday. I leave you with this:

76:: Time uninterrupted, used wisely

77:: A husband who wants me to sit on the couch and watch a romantic movie

78:: The OFF button on my computer

79:: Post it notes, to save my thoughts for later

80:: XXX Church, a website and an organization to help men be accountable for porn addictions. 

81:: A husband who reads, and loves, my blogs

82:: The days that we spend away from the house--completely unplugged

83:: The fighting we do not do...thanks to humility and GPS.

The Name that I Wear

Write about SHOES.

Write for 5 minutes. No longer than that!

 My Double Link Challenge. 

I am linking today with The Red Dress Club and The Gypsy Mama.

I hope you enjoy this short thought, and I hope it LIFTS your mind to God. 

We live in a world that is branded. I cannot imagine that 100 years ago anyone would have considered that we would have names for our shoes.

photo credit - Pam Booher of my son, Austin. 

Can you imagine the poor shoemaker waking in the morning to the elves who had come in the night to complete the shoes while he slept...

"What were you thinking, little men, you put a TOMS label on the back of these RUNNING SHOES!?"

Everything that can be claimed, for the sake of advertising and sales, has been given a name. We are walking billboards for those who want to mount the world with their product or their name.

And, in my midlife attempts of trying to be in the know with the fashion-istas of the world, I reach a point where I trust in the knowledge that when the day finally comes that my body no longer succumbs to gravity, no one will care what brand I had on.  When I rise to the sound of trumpets, it will not matter what name is on the bottom shoes that I wear, but merely, the Name that is written on my heart.

"But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ." Philippians 3:7

Painful Things to Hear

photo credit to http://www.earningguys.com/

Half of me is cleaning my bathroom before people arrive at my house for a barbeque. One quarter of me is planning and plotting my next blog. One eighth of me is trying to decide if I have time for a shower. And, then quietly the other eighth of me is saying, "Stop blogging".

Stubbornly, I ignore the eighth of me that is telling me to stop doing the thing that has been so fulfilling, especially of lately. Divided as I am, I turn my attentions to the vacuum cleaner, the proportions of what I am doing are altered a bit, but the voice still whispers, "Stop blogging".

I walk away from the vacuum and move to my desk. I sit at my laptop with the evening sun beating through my westward facing window, and onto my face. It is hot and uncomfortable, and I am angry as I punch on the keys. Angry that I have to still run the vacuum. Angry that I am feeling torn and divided inside of myself. Angry most of all at the whispering voice in my head. This doesn't make any sense...I type.

This doesn't make any sense.

I know this voice and it is not a voice of confusion. It wouldn't tell me to stop what I am doing just to cause me anxiety. What purpose would be served in me stopping my writing? I am so overcome with emotion that I could easily cry, but considering my history with emotionalism, I don't trust these feelings.

I leave my computer and I turn on the shower. Now, half of me is thinking about face wash and shampoo. And the other half of me is crying out to the Lord for an answer to His whisper to me. I stand in my shower and with water beating me down-- I look at the words I have taped to the wall. 

"perplexed...but not in despair...persecuted but not abandoned...struck down but not destroyed."

This morning I wake with questions on my heart for the Lord.
"What is Your plan? You led me to writing as a way to honor YOU. You gave me a desire for service through expression. You have confirmed to me over and over, that You can use my words...and now, You whisper to me to stop blogging?"

And I hear the whisper again. "Stop blogging."

I head back to my shower, hoping to find comfort in the water. Warmth and comfort. But, as the water nudges me, I hear something new. "This blogging. Is it for Me or for you?"

Are you kidding me? It's for you, Lord! I have been writing for You! And then, I pause and I wonder...has my writing stopped being for Him?  

Would I write if no one ever read it?

photo credit to http://www.caffeinatedcoder.com/

Would I write with such enthusiasm if there were nothing in it for me. My heart sinks and I want to disable my FOLLOWER button. I want to urge people not to LIKE this. But, I can't. The part of me that can't won't becomes a place of shame.

And, at the end of my blog for today...the only hope that I have comes back to the words taped on the wall of a shower.

"perplexed...but not in despair...persecuted but not abandoned...struck down but not destroyed."

I am not going to be destroyed by my own self seeking, self promoting nature. It may confuse me as I work my way through it, but not to the point of despair. And in the same way, I am not abandoned, because I seek the Lord to guide me through and He will stay with me even through the ocean of self doubt that rages within.

---

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 

For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body. So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you. It is written: "I believed; therefore I have spoken."

Since we have that same spirit of faith, we also believe and therefore speak, because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus and present us with you to himself. 2 Cor. 4:8-14