Looking for Spring

My daffodils covered with snow -- mid-storm.

I wasn’t – am not – so convinced, even though I do know better.

Two days after the official arrival of Spring per the calendar, blowing snow and frigid temperatures dropped in for a visit.

And stayed.

That was one week ago, yesterday.  This morning the thermometer still read in the low twenties when I woke up.  It’s been like that all week.

Technically Spring. Visually Winter.

The 8 + inches of snow that fell during the snowstorm has hardly melted at all. Things appear to be a standstill. The daffodils out my front door are fighting it out with Winter. The trees are nurturing their buds still within their branches.  The first birds of Spring who arrived two weeks ago, are now cocking their heads in confusion, as they flock together, wondering if they miscalculated their flight plans.  

Winter, with its cold claws around Spring, seems to be trying to hold back all things Spring. Rather bold. Rather disappointing. Rather annoying.

I’m asking the Lord to remind me that despite outward appearances, He’s always at work. I’m trusting that Spring will come.  It has year after year, eventually.

So it is with life at times.  Things aren’t always clear. It can get confusing. Maybe even annoying and disappointing. Or more.

I have lots of questions, and I’m asking them – not so much about the weather, but more about Him and about me.   

And I’m also asking the Lord to help me understand and to help me grow. 

These are times to trust. Times to remember what the Lord has done before. Times to believe, not always what we see, but Whom we know.

Like my little daffodils, I’ll persevere and continue to believe --  looking for Spring.

Wondering How You Can Help? Check this Out -- Women At Risk International

A message came in to my inbox from Brenna. Would I be interested in sharing more about their organization Women At Risk International? If so, she would send me more information by mail.

The timing was interesting.  I just finished two books Half the Sky and Global Soccer Mom, and God was growing my passion to help women and children oppressed and at risk around the world.

Brenna didn’t know what was going on inside my heart. Only God did.

I’m not sure where my journey of learning and loving those I do not (yet) know will take me.  Only God does.

A package arrived with facts and stories about WAR International and the women they are serving worldwide. Enclosed with the brochures was also a small, delicate tear drop pearl pendant – a “Pendant of Hope” – representing the tears shed for the suffering women at risk and WAR Internationals commitment to give voice to their silenced cries, while empowering them to walk with dignity as they were created to.

The little note attached read, “For centuries the peal has symbolized unblemished perfection and has been considered the most valuable.  The Latin word for pearl means ‘unique.’  Women At Risk International gives women a safe haven to turn their stories of risk into unique stories of hope like the pearls of great price and deep beauty.”

The creating of this pearl pendant is just one of the ministries that WAR International is involved in. An abandoned woman, whose husband left her and her two children, ran a pearl shop in Thailand.  WAR International partnered with her and sells her jewelry in the United States .  Her business expanded and she now hires more women – women at risk – to work in her shop.  Through the involvement of WAR International, is able to help women grow and become strong, safe and independent in their trade, helping them to not fall prey to sex-trafficking.  They are able to work with dignity.

The stories, sadly, are abundant worldwide of abuse, oppression, sex-trafficking, honor killings, children orphaned, female genital mutilation, and more.  But there is hope.  WAR International is one of the many organizations that is coming along side of the women of the world (both across the world and next door in our communities) and making a difference. 

From selling of the crafts that women make, to rescuing them from oppression and teaching and training them, to scholarships for education and micro-loans, WAR International is involved on the ground level, helping to change lives in the name of Christ.

And we can be involved, too.  I want to encourage you click here and review the Women At Risk International web-site .  You will find stories of women whose lives have been changed and opportunities you can be involved in  from hosting a jewelry party featuring the items crafted by hand worldwide, to going on a mission trip or having a prayer circle in your home.

Can we really make a difference? I think we can. I'm wearing the pendant. It reminds me to pray for women worldwide. I'm also asking the Lord to continue to show me how I can be involved in His work. Only He knows.

A Refining Silence?

“Who has God been to you this week?”

That was the question the teacher asked at our Women’s Bible Study this week.

I gazed down at the long list of Names and Attributes of God printed out on the paper that she shared with us.

·         He is my Hope (Psalm 71:5)

·         He is my Restorer (Psalm 23:3)

·         He is my Stronghold in the day of trouble (Nahum 1:7)

·         He is my Refuge from the storm (2 Samuel 22:3)

·         He is my Shade from the heat (Isaiah 25:4)

·         He is my Refiner (Malachi 3:2-3)

In my mind the font seemed to change, the words grew bold, and the size increased by 20 points.

Why "Refiner"?

I wouldn’t have necessarily chosen it off the top of my head.  I knew Him to be the others (and so much more) but as I straightened up and froze, I thought, “Refiner? Could that be what He is doing now?”

As I shared in my last post, with the exception of the conversation that we had in the kitchen a few days ago, the Lord has been terribly silent to me over the past few weeks.   

I’m trying to read His Word and seek Him in prayer. I find myself pitched forward, listening and looking for what He is saying and for His direction – but nothing. Am I not hearing or is He intentionally being quiet for a reason?

I have felt His refining hand through trials and heartache, but could this be His refining?  Is it a refining silence?

Is He speaking to my heart in a new way?

Is He saying:

Will you trust me even when I am quiet?

Do you believe I care about you, even when you cannot feel me?

Do you believe I love you even when you cannot see me?

Do you believe that I am here?

Do you believe?

Do you?

A refining silence?  Maybe this is it.  I am trying to trust Him in the process, knowing that He knows best and knows what needs to be refined in me.  I believe that He loves me enough to shape me and mold me, in His perfect way. Perhaps a "refining silence" it is.

How about you, dear reader? Have you ever experienced a refining silence?

Who is God to you this week?

Pondering -- for WHOM do I do what I do?

I’ll be straightforward and honest with you – I’ve been struggling. I’ve been wrestling it out with myself and God, wondering if this whole writing and teaching thing are really for me.  And even though my friends (well, some of my friends) and seasoned writers are encouraging me to persevere, I just can’t seem to shake it.

And to top it all off -- God seems to be terribly silent of late … until, yesterday.  When, for a brief moment, He caught my attention.

At a most unexpected time, in a most unexpected way, I heard His familiar whisper in the center of my soul. 

“Andrea, I see you that you hung a new picture on the wall.”

“Yes, I did, Lord.  Lily painted it! I love it and I just had to put it in this special place.”

“Tell me about it, dear.”

“Well,” I said in my head with delight, “I watched her from across the room. I saw her get on her over sized art smock and prepare her paints, squirting them out on her palette and mixing them together.  I watched her as she took the plain white canvas and began to create with freedom and joy. I saw her sketch out what she envisioned in her mind, thoughtfully and intentionally. I admired the way she smiled as she cocked her head back and forth and I loved watching her delicate hands grip the paint brush, as little by little she laid down color next to color, forming the pretty picture of the Easter egg.”

“And then what happened?”

“Then she gave it to me, Lord. She said, “Here Mommy, I painted it for you! I hope you like it!”  I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her and hung it in a place where I can see it all the time – in my kitchen – because it brings me joy and it is a representation of her love.”

“I see,” said the Lord. “Are you disappointed in it?”

“Why, of course not, Lord. She made it and I love her.”

“Are you sad that it is not in the Louvre?”

“Well, no Lord. I like it right here. It does not matter to me whether it is in a museum or not. It came from her heart and it is beautiful in my eyes.”

“My  dear child, Andrea.  This is how I feel about you and how I look at what you do for me.   I know that you are concerned about your writing and teaching, what I may be doing in it and through it and what I may not. I know you are concerned about what you should do next, where you should submit, and how you should write differently.  Indeed, you are concerned about the what, the where and the how of your writing, and I understand that, but – listen carefully -- for Whom do you do what you do?”

“You see, Andrea, I think what you write is beautiful. I watch you when you write.  I see how it brings you joy to take a blank piece of paper and color it with words and phrases. It pleases Me when you take My truths and write them.  It doesn’t matter to Me whether they are in a book, in a magazine, on your blog, or read by your Facebook friends. It really doesn’t matter to Me how many followers you have or how many hits are on your site – all of which I do control, by the way.

What matters to Me is you and that you are writing out of your love for me – for I love you very much.

What you do for Me is special. You placed your daughter’s painting on the wall; I place what you write close to My heart. If and what others say is not what is important.  It  does not give what you write value. What you do for Me is valuable  – what matters is that you do it for Me. I will take care of the rest. I know the what and the where and the how."

“Yes, Lord. You have my attention. I’m listening and I’m trying,” I replied, humble and thankful for our conversation, ”For Whom do I do what I do?  I do it for You.”

Dear Lord, I know I am prone to forgetting. It is not that I don’t try to write for you, it’s just that I tend to base my value or the value of what I do on what others say. I know it is not true. Please help me to let go of what others think, and only focus on you. I trust you to do with it what you desire.  Help me to have the courage to continue. Thank you for breaking in to my day and loving me enough to show me your tender care.  Amen.

Gossip Good? Oh! Please! -- I Don't Think So!

“Listen to this,” I said to my teenage daughter, as we sat waiting in the doctor’s office, as I read to her from a magazine article on gossip.

 ‘It’s a way to navigate our social networks … we also gossip to let others know who we are.  Say you pass on a juicy nugget about a neighbor’s infidelity.  Offering your opinion about it lets you show off your own moral fiber. In return, you find out whether the person you’re dishing with agrees with you. As you tsk-tsk together over the details, what you’re really doing is saying ‘We’re better than that,’ says Dr. Fisher.  “You’re reaffirming and sharing your own values.”  (Rebook. Feb 2011.  “Have You Heard? Admit it, you love a good piece of gossip.  Here’s why it’s not as bad a habit as you may think” pg 24).

Oh, please!  Gossip is good? I wanted to throw up.  Were they serious?  That article made me mad – and deeply sad.

Then I had a flashback of a memory. 

Several years ago, I received a phone call from a friend of mine.  It was during a very challenging and pain splattered time for our family.

“Andrea, this is hard for me to tell you, but I think you need to know.  This afternoon I was having lunch with two other friends. While we were sitting at the table, we heard two women at the table next to us talking about you and your family.”

My friend went on to share with me the very hurtful details that these two other women were saying about my children, about me and about my husband -- details which I’d rather not even repeat here.

I listened, speechless, my heart splayed out on a platter. 

“Well, Andrea, we were quite upset by what they were saying about you, and so we stood up and approached them at their table. We said, ‘We just want you to know that we know that family and you have no right to talk about them in that way.’  The 2 women just stared at us and we sat down.  We left shortly after that, very upset, but had to return to get a coat that we forgot. When we went back in, we took advantage of one more opportunity and said to the women, ‘Let this be a lesson to all of us. We should not talk about other people.’”

I thanked my friend for her call. I appreciated her honesty and her willingness to share with me when I knew it was hard for her to do. She knew it would hurt me, but that it was important that I know.

Gossip. Despite the author’s opinions from Redbook, I would disagree. Does gossip really show off our own moral fiber, revealing what we believe (in a positive light)? And as you put someone else down, are you really reaffirming and sharing your own values?

Well, I suppose it does show off our moral fiber—it shows that our moral fiber is frayed and dirty.   It shows that we are a superficial people who are bent towards self, easily tempted to put others down and elevate ourselves.  It says that we do not honor the value of others.  Gossip destroys.

Gossip is NOT good.

I was hurt by the gossip, but it did teach me a lesson.  I’m not perfect at it, but when tempted to gossip, I remember the pain that I felt when I heard what these women were saying about me and my family in public and I remember what the Lord says, “Love one another.”   

I am thankful for my friends who stood up for me. I know it cost them something. They were brave. They loved me. And I'm also thankful for an opportunity to talk to my teenage daughter about the destruction of gossip. It was good for us to look at the article and discern what is truth and what is a lie, and it was good to be able to share with her a story from my life.How about you?

Have you ever overheard gossip about yourself? Have you ever been told that someone is gossiping about you? How did it make you feel?  How did it change how you behave?

The Making and Naming of a Waterfall

When we were in Costa Rica we hiked up in to the rain forest.

Along the way, we witnessed incredible beauty.  Tall, strong, green trees and delicate ferns, flowers of every color and fruits hanging from vines and sprouting from branches surrounded us circumferentially.

It was lush and moist and green – and it was alive. And then ...

... we entered a place of desolation.  Unexpectedly, we came around the corner and stepped out of the beauty of life and onto a path – that was not really a path at all -- over rocks and dried out dirt.

Three months prior, during a very rainy and stormy time, a mudslide powered down the mountain.  Rocks and debris, slipping from the mountainside,  tore through the forest, plowing over and through trees, flowers, and plants – destroying the beauty.

The contrast was obvious.

“Do you see that waterfall?” the guide said, as she pointed to a small stream of water, in the distance, that flowed over the cliff. 

“It was not there before the mudslide.  The storm and the damage created a new waterfall for us.  We would not have had it if not for this mudslide. It once was an underground spring, now it is a waterfall.”

Hmmm …. the damage created a new waterfall for us.  I love waterfalls.

Mudslides occur in our lives, too, at times.   Rainy seasons and stormy seasons result in the ground underneath us slipping away and we find that a vein of destruction tears itself through our otherwise green, living life.  The boulders, rocks and dirt of uncertainty, fear, and sorrow are scattered on the hillside of our lives.  Little sign of what once was remains, and what does remain seems to be knocked over, tangled and ugly.

But if we look carefully, in time, we just may see something new, like the new waterfall that was created as the mountainside exposed a spring.  Now, instead of the water running deep within the mountain, it flowed down the side, bringing refreshment and life -- and a new sort of beauty.

So, too, the Lord creates new streams and new waterfalls in our lives. It is hard to see – or even believe –  but if we look, we see what God has done.

 A new waterfall. A new stream. A new opportunity. A new source of refreshment. A new provision for life. A new strength. A new dream. A new kind of trust.

“You’ll have to name this waterfall, just the like the others,” I said to the guide, smiling, as I thought of the some of my mudslides and began to see more clearly some of the waterfalls that resulted.

What would I name them? I’m not sure, yet -- maybe “He Makes All Things New, ” or “The Value of Learning to Wait,” or “A Spring of Strength”

What about you? Can you see the waterfall of life that God has brought or is bringing out of a time of trial?  What would you name it?

A Sneaky Chunk of Cheese

 (((( tee -- hee ))))

My status on Facebook yesterday read like this …

“Found a box of Velveeta in the back drawer of our fridge with an expiration date of August 2005.  Seriously … what have I been doing?”

This sneaky little piece of cheese keeps on coming to mind, as the comments role in.  I think that most of us can relate.  We discover expired things, at unexpected moments in time, tucked deep in the recesses of our cabinets and fridges, to then be almost archaeologically dug out and ... 

It’s funny, really.  At least it is to me, and some of my FB friends, as they wrote:

·         It’s probably still good!

·         That’s some old cheese!

·         That’s nothing. In our past 3 moves, I packed and moved expired can/box goods to 2 different homes.  Fortunately, I have thrown them away in prep for our next move. J

·         Aged cheese is supposed to be good, right?

·         Hee – hee! We ate tilapia last night (out of the freezer) that was dated July 2009!  What they didn’t know didn’t hurt ‘em!

·         Don’t be so hard on yourself – it’s not like you fed it to anyone … right? J

·         I’m not sure why, but hearing this from you relaxes my shoulders a bit. J

The thing is – believe it or not, I actually do clean out my fridge. I tend to be organized (yet, easily distracted), and although not a full blown germaphobe, I do keep an eye on molds accumulating and half-and-half creams congealing. I don’t like old yogurt, soft potatoes, dried out tortillas or bruised apples. 

But somehow this sneaky chunk of cheese got past me.  As I reflect back, I do recall noticing it in its undisturbed box at the back of my cheese drawer. I think I just kept on thinking, “Oh, I’m sure it’s fine. Someday, I’ll use it for a dip.”

But, I never did. I knew it was there, it appears that I just I avoided it.  After all, it looked okay from the outside. I guess.

Well, nearly 6 years later, with an expiration day of August 2005, this chunk of cheese has got me thinking, not just about the possibility of other things lurking in the dark corners of my fridge (I’ll work on that), but some of the things that I am sure are lurking in the out of the way places of – me.

 I know they’re there. I just choose to avoid them. It’s not that their bad, it’s just that they’re past their expiration date. I can’t use them anymore – don’t need them anymore.  I’m sure there are some chunks of “this” and chunks of “that” which I can --  well, chuck.

In addition, I am smiling at the fact that God does not stamp an expiration date on His grace.  It’s not hidden away for us to find, but right out in front where we can see it, taste it, feel it, rejoice in it. It never gets old. Never needs to be replaced.  

Funny how a sneaky chunk of cheese can get in my head and stir up some thoughts. 

Still laughing about it today.  We promptly threw the cheese away, but it did cross my mind – could there be a market out there for “Aged Velveeta?” And if so, should I have tried to sell it on e-bay?

A Cup of Cold Water Calling

A small, striped cat wove itself between the pool deck chairs, peeking out from time to time to see if it was safe.  It occasionally, hesitantly meowed a feeble cry for help. It skittered when anyone came near.  As I observed more, I noticed a red, raw wound on the side of its neck.  It was injured, scared and in great need.

I sat at a distance from the cat, watching it and then watching a fair skinned woman, wearing a hat and speaking English approach it.  It ran from her, hiding once again.  She asked someone to bring her a cup of water.

She placed the cup of water on the patio and knelt down to care for the cat.  It responded, and eagerly lapped up the water from the plastic cup. 

The woman spoke to the pool boy who brought the water.

“Is there a vet nearby?  How can I find one? Can I take this cat there, if I pay for a taxi? And then pay for the vet?  This cat is sick and needs help.”

The cat was sick. It needed help. It could not help itself. 

“Yes, ma’am.  I can get you the number. I can get you the address, and I can get you a box to carry the cat in” the pool boy, answered, apparently sensitive to the request of the woman and the plight of the cat. 

The woman hugged the young man, thanking him.

The kitten was helpless. It did not know it was sick. It was scared. It was alone. It did not know there was such a thing as a veterinarian. And even if it did, it could not get there on its own. It was helpless and hopeless.

I turned my attention back to the book I was reading about global poverty, worldwide oppression of women, HIV/AIDS and other humanitarian issues. Issues plaguing precious people – God’s precious people – who are injured, hurting, helpless, scared, without resources, perhaps even without knowledge that there is help out there for them. They often – most often -- are hopeless.  They are in great, GREAT need.

My passion has long been for women who are hurting and in need of encouragement, but this was a new spark in me that the Lord was breathing upon, igniting it in to a flame.

Part of my “considering the clutter” is asking the Lord to show me more of my heart (the heart He formed and impassions) and more of His heart.

So, I’m asking myself, “What is God calling me to do?”  That is what I’m seeking and praying about. Who is He asking me to reach out and give a “cup of cold water” to? What does that “cup of cold water” look like?  When? How?

“And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is my disciple, I tell you the truth, he will certainly not lose his reward”  (Matthew 10:42).

Stay tuned for more information, more thoughts and more resources … and may I challenge you, too?

Who may He be asking you to reach out to?

A Timely (but Embarrasing) Lesson from Speeding (UGH!)

I shook my head back and forth, disappointed in myself. I knew it. I just knew it.

The unmarked police car pulled out from its discrete hiding place behind the fence.  I didn’t need to look down at the speedometer. It was too late. I slowed down, my foot resting on the brake, just as the red and blue lights flashed in my rear view mirror.

((((sigh)))))  I knew better, but I was in a hurry. I needed to have two people in different places at the same time. I had at least a thousand things on my mind. I was tired, and probably hungry, although at that point the only real feeling I had was a combined sinking feeling of my spirit and a sickening feeling in my stomach. 

I pulled over. The police officer approached my car. I handed him my driver’s license, humbled that a forty something mother was pulled over for speeding.  My teen age daughter sat in the back seat, “Mom, this IS embarrassing.”

 DIdn’t I know it.  “Sorry, honey. My fault.  I guess these things happen.”

“Do you know how fast you were going, Ma’am?” the officer said, rather kindly, I must admit.

“I’m not sure,” I responded, guessing at a number that I feared was lower than I wanted it to be. Sure enough, I was wrong. 

“No, Ma’am. You were going faster than that. And, did I just see you put your seat belt on when you came  around the corner?”

Blow number two. Guilty.  I wasn't but a few blocks from home, but I had forgotten to "buckle up" as I should have, before I even put the car in drive. Not good.

“Yes, sir. I did.  I’m sorry,” I said, now doubly humbled and overwhelmed with honesty. I preceded to explain to him the details of where I was going and why, as if he really cared.

“I know they aren’t great excuses, "I concluded.  "I was in a hurry. I really am sorry. ”

To make a long story (or so it seemed at the time) short, I got off with a warning and no points deducted from my record. It had been a long time (10 years?) since I had been stopped for the same offense.  However,  did get fined $10 for not wearing my seat belt.

I actually thanked the man as I sheepishly pulled away, eyes darting between the road, the speed limit signs and my speedometer.  The police officer (and the Lord) were gracious to me. I am grateful.

And I said to the Lord, “Yes. I am listening. I hear you loud and clear. ‘Slow down.  You don’t need to hurry. Stop rushing here and rushing there.  Just slow down.’”

So, in addition to trying to consider and clear the clutter per my last post (incidentally, this happened the day after I wrote that story), I’m also working on slowing down.  I must admit, there is something about a warning that does really work. My foot is lighter on the pedal and my seat belt is clicked in to place like it should be. Furthermore, I find myself intentionally trying to slow down in other areas of life.  

It doesn’t take much for a vision of the flashing lights to show up in my mind, when I feel myself hustling about and overwhelmed, whether in body or mind. And I quickly remember, “Slow down. You don’t need to hurry. Stop rushing here and there. Just slow down.”

Another timely reminder from God in the everyday occurrences of life. 

Taking Time to Consider the Clutter

Every once in awhile, I can feel the stack of clutter grow to the point of toppling over in my head, and I realize that I need to stop, take a break and consider the clutter in my life.

That’s what I’m determined to do over the next couple of weeks. 

Who knows how clutter forms?  We put something down here and something there, determined to get to it later when we have more time, but life gets busy and finding (or making) time gets harder. And the clutter grows.

So, I’m making and taking the time to look at the clutter. Just like clutter in my house, there is probably stuff I’ve collected that I don't even need anymore. Might not even know why I kept it in the first place. There are things that need to be attended to and important things that need to be given priority to, instead of getting lost in the shuffle.

Reorganizing. Reenergizing. Reconsidering. Recalibrating. Relaxing.

I’m not even sure what’s cluttered around up in my head. That’s what I need to sort through.  From practical issues like kids activities, plans for our home, yard and health, to future issues, like finalizing plans for a mission trip, and what I desire to do in ministry. Should I continue writing? Blogging? Teaching? Speaking?  Should I take on a part-time job? There are even some dreams that I want to sort through.  Should I write that book?  Go back to school?  Run a race? Take up photography?

I’m not doing it alone, though.  My husband and I will be taking this time together to sift and sort through all these things. I’m sure he has some clutter of his own that he wants to work on, too.  And above all, we are seeking  the Lord and considering what He is asking us to do.  

I’m sure that there will still be some piles when I am done, but hopefully they will be a bit more organized and I’ll have some peace over the direction that I am walking in with the Lord and in my life. 

It’s good.  The clutter gets overwhelming and it’s hard to see over the piles.   I’m excited to see what God is going to show me as I take time to take a deep breath, relax, allow His will to settle in to my heart and listen to what He has to say.

I’ll be back in a couple of weeks. Thank you for journeying with me.

A Much Needed Fresh Look on Love

This morning I woke up and, having forgotten the night before that it was going to be Valentine’s Day, I quickly gathered up some red and pink decorations and tried to present a bit of “visual” love on the counter for breakfast.  Skipping a shower, due to lack of time,  I mixed up my grandmother’s famous Kaiserschmaren recipe (the equivalent to chopped up pancake in a pan – an old German recipe), and tried to make the morning memorable. I signed notebooks. Made lunches.  Pressed clothes. Helped console a child who forgot to write out a few Valentine’s. Hustled kids to school, and even turned around once to go back home, as someone fell and soaked their pants through with mud.

I’m trying to love in tangible ways; I try to do so every day, but today with love on my mind I’m trying to be even more intentional. AND I’m trying to look at real love – again – because, I forget.  I get busy. I get tired. I get snirky.  I don’t always love well.  I don't like that I do this.

How about you?

I realized this morning, I need a fresh look on love. I can pull out some decorations and make a fun breakfast, but I need a reminder about a love that goes deeper than that. It’s easy to love the things we love, when all is fair and good, but God calls us to love – at all times.  Not always an easy thing to do, but always the right and good thing to do.

The famous love chapter in the Bible, 1 Corinthians 13 (vs. 4 – 8, 12-13) helps us to remember what it looks like to love God’s way. I pulled the paraphrase of the Bible, the Message, off my shelf and read through it. I’m glad I did. 

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
Love doesn't strut,
Doesn't have a swelled head,
Doesn't force itself on others,
Isn't always "me first,"
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn't revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.

Love never dies. We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!

But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.

I don’t know about you, but I needed this reminder today -- everyday. I want to love God’s way. 

Praying the same for you, dear reader.

Dear Lord,

Thank you that You are love and that we can learn to love Your way, by learning of You and seeing how You love us.  Help us to be lovers of You and lovers of others.  Even when it is not easy to love, help us to not give up hope, but to persevere, extending grace and forgiveness and always trusting You in all things.  Help us to stop today and remember that You lavished Your love on us, and help us to love others in return.

In Jesus name I pray.  Amen

God Gives Songs in the Night

Yesterday, in our Women’s Bible Study,  I taught about the the story of Paul and Silas in prison in Acts chapter 16.  Here, unjustly beaten, bruised and bleeding, Paul and Silas CHOOSE not to whine, complain, blame and seek revenge, but to sing and to pray.

I’m convicted and refreshed by this example.

Charles Spurgeon, a well-known saint of the church and preacher from the mid-1800’s said, “Anyone can sing in the day.  It is easy to sing when we can read the notes by daylight; but the skilful stager is he who can sing where there is not a ray of light to ready by. Songs in the night come only from God; they are not in the power of men.”

Songs in the night.  When we are surrounded by darkness and have a very real sense of being imprisoned by an injustice or in a time of great suffering, it can be quite difficult to pray. Perhaps, it is even more difficult to sing. But God gives songs in the night.

I know that it is true.  Maybe you do, too.  I am not sure where the songs come from, but they spring forth  and they blossom and bloom.  They are sweet songs, often simple songs, filled with faith and a trust in the Lord who holds all things together. They come during a time when we do not know what to say.  They are words of truth and love that are pushed up out of the ground of our hearts and given life.

Are you scared and overwhelmed with uncertainty?

Are in the vast expanse of loneliness?

Or in the darkness of rejection?

Do you find yourself imprisoned by injustice?

Do you feel stuck in a situation and it appears that there is no way out?

God gives us songs in the night, and God uses our praise to Him for the benefit of others. The pure sound of praise amidst suffering is so lovely, so grace-filled, and so unnatural that it makes others wonder, “How can they do that?”

Others around you may be watching and wondering.  Praise the Lord in your pain, for His sake. Depend on His grace to help you do so. You just may not know how He may use your dependence on Him. Trust on and allow His songs in the night to flow from you.

An "Ah-Hah!" Moment at the Gym

While I huffed and puffed through a work out last week, my trainer Dave was telling me about a new event coming up this summer. 

“I’ve got a race for you to do this summer, Andrea,” he said, “An obstacle course that I’m helping to put together.”

“Good!” I joked – kind of, “Since you’re making it, could you make it so that I can do it?”

“No …. I don’t think so, nice try” he replied, “I’ll make you, so that you are able to do it.”

It was one of those "ah-hah" moments for me. I stopped, stared at Dave and ran to get a piece of paper and pencil to write down what just transpired.  I was convicted in my heart and I wanted to remember it and write about it, because -- this is basically the same conversation that I’ve been having with the Lord, lately.

I talk to him about the obstacles that are currently in my life or that I see on the horizon ahead of me.

And I say something like, “Could you just make them so that I can handle them? Not too hard? Can you orchestrate it so that I can maneuver my way around them, over them, through them? Please? Pretty please?”

And time and time again, it seems as if I eventually realize that He says back to me, “Nice try, Andrea, but no, I will make you so that you are able to do it.”

It is true.  We are God’s workmanship. He created us and continues to make us – form us, strengthen us, train us – so that we are able to do His work.  Sometimes, He works in our strengths, fine tuning them, enriching them, so that we are able to fight and serve Him better. And sometimes, He works in our weaknesses, not necessarily making us stronger, but exhibiting His strength in us.

Bottom line, He doesn’t make our lives so that we can handle it, He “makes” us – constantly transforming us and molding us – so that we do what He asks us to do and in the process, glorify Him.

Next time, I find myself straining under the weight of the world (like today), I’m going to remember this. It’s all a part of the workout for the day, learning how to carry the burden He asks us to carry for ourselves and for others, learning how to wait patiently and learning how to trust Him in the process.

We do not know what obstacles are ahead of us, but He does and He is -- amazingly -- for us.

Shaking off the "Shoulds" and the "Shouldn'ts"

I’ve been in a funk all day.

Can’t put my finger on it.

I’ve tried to figure it out but I keep coming up blank.

And then I read a post by a fellow bloggy friend, Niki.  She wrote a great post (click here) about the “shoulds” in her life – and as I read her words, I felt a bit of the weight I’ve been lugging along all day – lift.

I’ve been sitting here, “shoulding” myself to the point of – funk.

I should really clean up the kitchen. I should get something done on the study I’m writing. I should run that errand. I should get a chunk of the laundry done.  I should chop some chicken. I should clean off my desk. I should this and I should that.

And then I mix in a few “shouldn’ts,” as well. I shouldn't just sit here. I shouldn’t be so down in the dumps today. I shouldn’t be so pathetic today. I shouldn’t be in a funk.

It’s a “should” and “shouldn’t” shake – that I'm -- errr -- trying to shake off.

Niki talks about “chosing” instead of “shoulding.” She’s right.  And so I’m working on changing my focus and giving myself a break today. It’s okay. I’m choosing to just take a break, to veg out. I’m choosing to not call it a funk, but to call it freedom.  I know that the Lord loves me and that I am free to just be. I don’t always have to be “doing” something; sometimes, the very thing He has for me is to just be me. It’s okay to have a down day – either in my heart or in my home. 

The Lord loves me for me. And He loves you for you, too.

Mixing Mortar?

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The clear, sweet voice of Amy Grant streamed out of the speakers of my radio, “Here I go, mixing mortar, for another wall to build.”  And as I listened, I could feel my heart ache, as the Lord lifted the veil from the wall building project I've been working on. 

It’s not that I mean to build a wall right now. Before you know it, I take the crumbled dust of my hurt and pain and  mix it with the water of my tears -- stirring, stirring, stirring and making mortar. 

The thing about wall building is – once you’ve built a wall, even if you’ve torn it down, it goes up much easier the second (and third and hundredth) time.  I guess you could say, we become rather “skilled” at it.  We pick up the bricks, slop a bit of mortar between them, and up the wall goes.

I’m not sure we even realize it most of the time.

It’s not like we intentionally pull out the trough and the trowel and get to it. It just happens.

So, today, I’m standing back and evaluating the wall that I’m building. 

I’m asking myself (and the Lord) some tough questions.

What triggered me?

Why do I feel vulnerable?

Why do I seem to need to try and protect myself right now?

Is what I am doing wise? Am I building a wall to “guard my heart” for good?

Or am I building a wall to keep others at a distance because I fear more rejection?

Is this wall helping me? Hurting me?  Or Hindering my relationship with others?

And – finally, and most convicting – am I trying to build a wall between the Lord and me?

So many questions. Not sure of the answers.

So, I’m going where I know that I can rest and search and see – to the Lord.  I’m stepping over the wall I started, and running in to His arms, trusting Him to help me.

Can you relate dear reader? May I pray?

Dear Lord, There is so much that we do not know about our hearts, but you do. You know what we think, how we feel and why we act the way we do. You know every detail of our lives. Help us, the ones who are prone to “building walls” to see the truth.  Remind us of Your truths.  Help us to see if we are being wise and “guarding our hearts” for good reasons, or if we are being overly self-protective. Thank you for your faithfulness.  Thank you for being ever present and entering in to our pain. Help us to bring glory to You in whatever we do.  In Jesus name I pray.  Amen.