Not all things are right, or as they should be around my house. Weird stuff happens like the stuff in Disney movies or old Lassie shows.

One evening, I rubbed my eyes in disbelief at the zebra in the middle of the road. The creature took off on a Safari-run, darting back and forth in front of my car. “Stripes” ran about a mile before he turned off into the woods. I pinched myself while checking the camera. More info @ Piney Wood Safari Hunt.

Another time we were concerned when we found our tomcat napping in the chicken coop, but later saw something really weird. The rooster, J T Vain, roamed the acreage for bugs and the tom followed. Tom rubbed J T like only a cat could, with his tail curled around J T’s tail-feathers. Surely the cat’s nature would spark a pounce and chomp on J T’s neck. But crazy as it seemed, they were best buds.

The strangeness continued with Gomer, our lab. About a week before she became a mother, a stray kitten came to stay with us. Mr. Tumnus enjoyed cat food and lots of attention, but when Gomer had her pups the kitten became part of the litter. She nursed, chewed and got chewed on, and was cleaned like all the other pups, by Gomer.

That was nine months ago but the craziness hasn’t stopped. The puppies have new homes. Gomer is spayed. But to this day the cat still nurses. They sleep together in the kennel, huddle together in the storms and eat scraps together.

But this week the unnatural Lassie-ness escalated. Mr. Tumnus, a female, had a litter of kittens in the kennel. Gomer mothered them with regular cleanings. She barked to get Mr. Tumnus to come to her crying kittens. When that didn’t work she scooped a kitten into her giant mouth and escorted it to Mr. Tumnus.

This weirdness had to stop. After Gomer placed the tiny, soggy kitten in our hand and went back for another, we moved the kittens to the porch with Mr. Tumnus and kept Gomer in the kennel. Surely this time cats will be cats, dogs will be dogs and the rightful mother will mother.

Not on our place. Mr. Tumnus moved the kittens back into the kennel with Gomer.

It’s true. Strange things happen. The lion can lay down with the lamb (Is. 11:6-9). God can change the nature of any creature: rooster, cat, dog or human. I am thankful God changed me, my sin nature and made me new. I rejoice in God, our almighty creator.

“This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!” (1 Cor. 5:17)
“It doesn’t matter whether we have been circumcised or not. What counts is whether we have been transformed into a new creation.” (Gal. 6:15)

P.S. Mail order chicks are coming soon. I’m so confused. What would Lassie (Gomer) do? Do I put them in the coop or kennel?
Subscribe to the blog feed .

Please, can I have a drop to quench my thirst?

People Are Thirsty

Every time I come in from this Africa-hot Texas weather I beg for water, sometimes in a not-so-pleasant manner. This heat makes me sticky and irritable. I’ll be “glistening” all summer while searching for refreshment.

Others also look for cold water. Some head to rivers and lakes (my prayers for those involved in Arkansas’ flash flood). Others turn to vendors and waiters. I heard of a rich guy that was burning up in the heat. He could not buy a drop of water and was desperate for a cold drink. No one helped. “Send Lazarus over here to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue” (from Luke 16:24), he begged, while knowing he was shut off from the life-giving water.

Drinks All Around

His desperation created in me a desire to help. I wanted to dig a well, pipe in some relief, do something. It was too late for him, but I could share my life-sustaining drink with others before they reach the same horrifying end.

I decided to tell as many as I could about the water that flows deep, puts out the heat and satisfies our thirst. Such water is found in Jesus. He offers living water and to the one who drinks it, no more thirst (John 4:10-14). I want to be the pipe bringing life, the well that overflows, the spout that pours sweet words of hope, life and redemption. I want no one to go thirsty like the rich guy. I promise to share my drink.

The Choice to Drink Deep, or Not

I may not be able to make others taste, but I can be a pleasant, enticing glass that holds cool and refreshing water. My acceptance and love can leave people with a desire to know more about me and my God. In these irritable, hot, hazy days of summer, fill my cup Lord, and make me a pleasant presentation of your living water.

On the last day, the climax of the festival, Jesus stood and shouted to the crowds, “Anyone who is thirsty may come to me! Anyone who believes in me may come and drink! For the Scriptures declare, ‘Rivers of living water will flow from his heart.’ ” (When he said “living water,” he was speaking of the Spirit, who would be given to everyone believing in him.) (John 7:37-9)

Subscribe to the blog feed .

I don’t know when it happened, but my arms changed. They got shorter, weaker too. It was obvious their strength would no longer allow arm-wrestling with the kids. I understood the strength loss, but shorter? I was quite bumfuzzled. Doesn’t osteoporosis diminish height instead of arms?

I hope I don’t have a weird bone disease.

First Symptom

The first short-arm symptom showed when the kids brought me their homework. With their scribbling in hand, I hyper-extended my elbows in order to make sense of it. While doing what I’ve always done, I was astounded with how tired my weak, shortened arms got.

That’s when I decided to get in shape. Surely a strenuous workout schedule focusing on arm strengthening would help. But even with six months of pumping iron at The Nautilus, my arms were still dwindling.

Their length used to be perfect for reading iPhone messages, enjoying Mary DeMuth’s Daisy Chain and studying my leather-like bound Bible. Now, I’m in a quandary. I don’t know what else to do about my incredible shrinking arms.

Some might disbelieve in the profound degeneration of my limbs. They may scoff and tease, or make wild suggestions like it isn’t my arms at all. But I know.

I know something’s wrong.

Diagnosis

Then headaches became the norm, but only when my eyes were open. I decided to see Dr. Means and discovered he is the kindest sort of mean. He laughed at me, spoke truth over my circumstance, then diagnosed me with multi-focal instead of some strange osteoporosis.

Apparently, my incredible shrinking arms were not so . . . Well, let’s just say I was wrong. I now sport new contacts and can’t believe the detail in the leaves on the trees.

Eye-opening Experience

Isn’t it eye-opening how our experience or understanding is limited. We are so sure of what we know. It’s like we’re stuck in the teen years—I know, I know—when we are clueless. God can say in truth, “I know.” He is the wisest. He knows everything and if we allow him to lead, we will not go off in obscure, weird ways of thinking and living.

“A person who has Christ as his Master is the master of every circumstance” (Streams in the Desert, p. 184).

God takes care of me. “Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you [God] preserve my life” (Psalm 138:7).

Subscribe to the blog feed .

Today, on the National Day of Prayer, many pointless prayers will go nowhere. There is a time where prayer for our nation, our leaders and our families are noticed by God. But that season is after a reflective prayer where we humbly approach God in repentance acknowledging our wrong doings and dependence upon his forgiveness. Without that personal relationship and preface to prayer, we are participating in meaningless utterances.

As a “praying” nation, we fashion a god and clothe him to fit our belief. We are a spiritual, religious people like those in Jeremiah 10:1-10. In our minds we adorn god with garments of gold, making him some sort of controllable idol, boxing him in a manageable package that fit whatever limitation our faith holds.

God is beyond measure, beyond comprehension, beyond our ability to grasp entirely. We cannot explain him. We cannot contain him. We cannot pray to him on our terms. We must read his letter to us, the Bible, to catch a glimpse of the holy God we want to petition in prayer.

When we do . . .

When we seek him, we will find him, especially when we seek him with all our hearts (Deuteronomy 4:29, 1 Chronicles 28:9). God wants to relate with us. He wants us to pray, to have conversations with him—both listening and talking. But we must pray on his terms: humbly, repentant and personal followed by corporate repentance (2 Chronicles 7:14, Romans 10:9-10).

Instead of a national day of religious whims, how awesome would be a national day of repentance, prayer on God’s terms.

Picture: To buy a t-shirt at www.recoveryrocksmesa.com

On the porch I sat.

It was a beautiful spring day, but I had a wazoo of weeds, a long unwanted list, and a dry, empty longing. Whether it was the paralyzing pace, or the brilliant sun’s warmth, I had to simply sit.

I didn’t want to do anything. I’d lost my excitement and anxiety reigned in its place. I wanted to shut down and turn off the to-do file.

Way too much happening. My oldest child was about to get married, the next in line graduating and headed off to school. At home, the remaining last child was uneasy, teasing about running off. Anything seemed more appealing than being left with the “crazy old parents.” Add wedding showers, graduation parties and the search for the right dress to the less-than-simple schedule and . . .

I quit.

I was done.

Done for, anyway. The clock was ticking. I’d fought Father Time like he was a bad weed. I’m ashamed to say that when my kids were in grade school, I even stopped giving them birthday parties.

I prepared the babies to be grown-ups, but when the exchange took place, I noticed I missed the class preparing me. Surely after I’d invested my life into these kids, they couldn’t leave.

But try as we may, life changes faster than clock hands during spring forward.

Kids change. They age. And our denial is forced to a halt.

So on that bright spring day, I sat on the porch.

And I discovered, again, my desperate need. The need to fertilize my faith, plant inner growth and gulp the Living Water. The life giving, thirst quenching water of trust in God, good for all seasons.

I remembered life’s summers may come and go, but Jesus remains the same.

Today. Tomorrow. Yesterday.

The same.

I trust him.

You can too. Won’t you join me for some Living Water refreshment on the porch?

Subscribe to the blog feed .

Spring has come…along with a few other uprisings. The skies are blue with scattered puffiness. The air is crisp with fragrant smells. And the temperature is pleasant, inviting outdoor activity. I can’t bear to be under a roof when lying in the sun beckons. It’s like my skin begs, “More vitamin D, please.” Vitamin D and sun on skin are related somehow. Spring is healthy and makes me feel good, until it happens.

Along with spring, come the menaces—the bugs, bees and weeds. Then from out of nowhere pops my bulging disc. Somewhere between L4 and L5 (lumbar vertebrae) I hear a scream, “Stop pulling weeds!” I admit it. I’m kind of soft, very much like a worm. It looks like the weeds win.

But God has a promise for us worms. “Don’t be afraid. I am here to help you. Though you are a lowly worm, . . . You will be a new threshing instrument with many sharp teeth” (Isa. 41:13-15).

Whew. I needed help, but I got more than that. I got TEETH. Ever seen a worm growl? “Grrrr.” God is making me new and powerful. Move on over weed, the whole hillside too, if I choose.
God tells us to, “Forget all . . .for I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun!” (Isa. 43:18-19). He goes on to say he is making pathways clear, deserts full of water and wild things thankful. Why is God doing this?

He’s doing it for me, the lowly worm, “so my chosen people can be refreshed” (v. 20). God promises to pour out his Spirit and his blessing (Isa. 44:3), so we can proudly claim, “I belong to the Lord.” And we “will write on [our] hand, ‘The Lord’s’ (v. 5).
That’s right, God’s making me new and powerful like a new plow. Picture a shiny, new John Deere on a field of weeds. I might smell like a worm but I’ve got new teeth, a refreshed growl and “The Lord’s” painted in yellow and green on my hand. Menaces beware.

(I hope my spine reads this blog.)

So how’s your spring? Send a comment, share your spring experience.
May you find time to be in the sun, to growl at the menaces and to brand “The Lord’s” on your hand. Be blessed.

Subscribe to the blog feed .

Getting nowhere, but doing it fast?

It’s like I’m on an endless treadmill, battling the bottomless clothes-basket and scrubbing the forever dirty-dish. After that comes the endless next thing—errand, meeting, project, appointment, and, as always, the bills. So much stuff needs attention, must be done. I’m over scheduled, under focused and beside myself. It’s like I’m a hamster running on a mini Ferris wheel, with no way to get off, and no end to this race.

All the striving and running left me empty. Even with some measure of success, like cleaning all the dishes or completing a presentation with applause, I got bombarded by the next task and the sense of a fruitless chase.

Chasing Vapors.

Much of our life is spent “chasing the wind” (Eccl 4:4-6). King David’s son (Eccl 1:1), said, “Nothing under the sun is truly new” (Eccl 1:9, NLT), but we break our necks to make things new. We work hard to make a mark, leave a legacy, or influence others. We act like everything is up to us. We think if we don’t do it, it won’t get done and then, well . . . we’re convinced the sky will fall, our kids won’t turn out right, and we will be the ultimate, epic failure. So we stay busy attempting to catch what can’t be caught.

One Way.

The empty exercise caused me to seek God for his view, his take on what I should do. The scripture writer experienced the same pointless pursuits, and his search for answers ended in a summation of life, the reason for existence, the ONE THING that fulfills our longing. “Fear God and obey his commands, for this is everyone’s duty” (Eccl 12:13, NLT) was found to be the underlying meaning of life. And it echoes in other scriptures like “be still and know…God” (Ps 46:10), and the greatest commandment to love God and love people (Matt 22:37-40).

Do you, like me, struggle with this one life-simplifying thing? Does life’s summation to love and obey God seem too spiritual to be relevant? Are you running life’s treadmill, chasing vapors hoping for an end? Have you ever wondered why we work so hard but have no progress?

When we focus on loving God and loving others, we purify our running around. God helps us sift through what we do. He forgives our mistakes and failures while giving us daily direction. Our track becomes focused and the distractions pale in comparison to this satisfying life-purpose.

We beat the busyness.

My renewed focus gives me a clarity, ability and the enlightened truth—it isn’t all up to me. Although I still run, I feel light in my shoes, unburdened, and sort of like a super hero.

I’m going somewhere.

God: Lean on Me. Don’t trust your own insights, but walk in wisdom.

Those who trust their own insight are foolish,
but anyone who walks in wisdom is safe (Proverbs 28:26, NLT).
Trust in the LORD with all your heart;
do not depend on your own understanding.
Seek his will in all you do,
and he will show you which path to take (Proverbs 3:5-6, NLT).

Leaders do this and prosper.

They lean on God. They do not trust their own instincts, but walk in wisdom, obedience to God.

Simply put, good leaders hear from God and do what He says.

“Leave… and go to the land that I will show you” (Genesis 12:1).

Step-by-step, listen and obey.

Simple. Yet difficult.

Are we up for the task? How do you lean on God and not your own skill? How can we know when we’re doing it right?

Subscribe to the blog feed .

Ken, a forever student, squeezed a four-year degree into about seven years. I met him in college and I was never convinced that he was ready to graduate or quit learning. We made jokes with him about his professional-student status. Yet, he may have been smarter than the rest of us, not in IQ, or studies, or grades, but in the idea of being a forever learner.

God prefers forever students. Intelligent people are always ready to learn. Their ears are open for knowledge (Proverbs 18:15, NLT). Even Jesus grew in wisdom (Luke 2:42). God values growth in knowledge, experiments in new things and continual education. It is senseless to pay tuition to educate a fool, since he has no heart for learning (Proverbs 17:16, NLT).

Having a desire for knowledge and education is important for all of us, not only for children. Otherwise we become dusty, archaic, and in need of a child to program the VCR. Which was the last thing I studied when it comes to our video equipment. I have much more to discover, and fast before I become a dinosaur like the VCR.

We need to study, grow and change. The qualities of children, dreaming, creating, and learning includes a childlike faith, a trait God highly esteems. We could take a class in something of interest. An art class, an online course, a business, technology or marketing seminar, or a Julie and Julia cooking class. Let’s foster our own curiosity, ask questions and learn the answers.

One of the most successful dreamers and creators of our day was Walt Disney. Mr. Disney said, “Around here, however, we don’t look backwards for very long. We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things, because we’re curious…and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.” (Restated in the Disney movie Meet the Robinson’s)

Like Mr. Disney and Ken, let’s escape the dusty, old rut and commit to being a forever student.

Subscribe to the blog feed .

After the blue moon on New Years Eve, I had a blue Monday. Ever had one of those days where it seems you have nothing to offer? Maybe it was the yuckyness of getting back to work, or a resolution that I didn’t want to make. It could’ve been confusion over what to do or not really wanting to do what I should. Whatever the reason I felt directionless, passionless and pointless.

The dread of Monday built as it approached and hit full force that morning. On Sunday I sent an email to a ministry friend, Renae Brumbaugh, explaining my disillusionment.

I wrote,

I’ve got to rethink my life.
I’m praying this evening and next morning to decide what God wants me to focus and work on for this next year, six months, spring, and this month.
I need his clear direction.
I need him.
I’m so needy.
This adventure with him is difficult.
I would turn around if I could, but I don’t know how.
Somehow, I have to turn off my wishes and listen to his directions. I often wish I could hear him audibly, that we could sit and have coffee together over a calendar and a notepad. That I could look into his eyes, see his smile, his tears, his pain and his magnificent love.
I want to be in his presence so very badly. I need him.
I’d give everything I had for time with him. I would rather meet him in the secret place than all this speaking and writing, leading and mentoring.
I desire him!
Can’t I just have more of him and forget this ministry?
(sigh)
Let’s take a journey together.
Like a quest in The Lord of the Rings, let’s go find God in his sanctuary. Let’s find him at his table. Let’s search for his delicacies that won’t ruin our diet. Let’s make a pact. Let’s do this thing. Are you with me? Let’s go.

I woke up Monday feeling like my hands were tied, my mind was in a fog, and my ability was inadequate. The Monday slump was a shadowy valley with no map or internal sense of where to step, what to do or how to think. The shadow may have been some outside force. I didn’t know anything else to do but pray. Most of the day was spent seeking God, following through with what I said in the email.

Nothing.

A faint, “Do those things you were last supposed to do,” whispered across my fog.

I prayed and tried writing and planning the projects, articles, and interviews from before the holidays.

Still disillusioned.

Workout. I decided to go workout, get the blood flowing. Maybe then the fog would lift. After the workout, I had dinner.

Nothing. Nothing was working. Maybe I should go back to being a wife and mom and forget this ministry, this headache.

After 9:00 p.m. the phone rang. Edna Winkler, a SBTC Area Missions Coordinator who booked me for an event two years ago, called to say I was on her mind, and had been for over a week. She had been praying for me during that time and couldn’t go to sleep until she found out how I was doing. She had called the office of local churches to see if they had heard anything. When that turned up nothing, she had found my number and called.

She encouraged me saying my ministry touched many lives, hers included. She believed many more were yet to be touched. She told me not to give in or listen to the discourager, Satan. Then she told a story from one of her struggles.

I prayed. I thought I was giving my problem to God. I felt oppressed. An evil darkness lingered for two weeks. Then I said, “God I can’t do this anymore!” I gave up and the oppression lifted. I guess I didn’t really give it to God while I struggled with it in prayer.

She ended our conversation with a commitment to pray for me and help in any way. I was in tears. My God is so good to give me all I need, a phone call as his audible voice over a warm cup, and his eyes filled with love.

May God show himself and his love to you in your days ahead.

*Pic by science.nasa.gov
Subscribe to the blog feed .