There have been times in the course of several classes I've taken when I was instructed to write my faith story. The format is always the same - 1) what your life was before you knew Jesus; 2) how you came to know Jesus; 3) how your life changed after knowing Jesus. I have always struggled with telling my story in this way because I have no recollection of a life before Jesus. Some of my earliest memories revolve around church. One in particular is when I turned three and *graduated* from the nursery to Sunday School. I can remember standing in a line watching the door open and marching with the other children to our new class room. We were not babies anymore, we were big kids. I can remember making a diorama out of a shoe box depicting the home of the widow where Elijah occupied the upper room (I Kings 17). What I can't bring to mind is a single memory of life before Jesus.
This is not a bad thing in and of itself, outside of the obvious difficulty in articulating a faith story that requires a before picture. It is what we want for our own children: a life of always knowing God. Beside the in-the-box-faith-story-dilemma, though, the lack of a before lends itself to taking for granted the reality of God in one's life, much in the same way we take our parents for granted. They have always been there and love us no matter how stupid we are, and that is what we come to expect. It's not until we reach early adulthood that we realize the sacrifices they made for us and that discipline really is one of the truest forms of love. The same is true of God, and it is entirely too easy to fall into adolescent behavior, thinking that the world revolves around me and that He is here to do my bidding, not the other way around.
As I ponder the beginning of the new year, I am dreaming about what it could look like. I am tired of taking God for granted. I am tired of cliche faith that so easily becomes formulaic: quiet times plus obedience = discipleship. I am hungry for the kind of everything love that is alive and authentic and vital and makes whatever might have been my before story seem completely irrelevant.
I want to love God with my whole heart, soul, mind and strength.
This is more than a mandate. It is more than setting time aside for the spiritual disciplines. It is about experiencing deeper relationship and walking hand in hand with Jesus, loving Him more intimately than ever before. I think I have been guilty of focusing on the mechanics as the means to an end. I am praying He will breathe new life into me and help me to see Him in new and refreshing ways. His love is calling me. I want to love Him with all that I am and articulate it in a way that those who are on the before side of the equation can hear His love calling them, too.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 16, 2011
Soul Food - Part Two
It's Christmas-time. And as I sit in my living room and look in any direction, I see reminders of the season. A white three-piece nativity, given to me by my mother, flanked by a snow covered ceramic church and a fir tree, each with a little votive burning inside, softly illuminating them. Like sentries guarding the baby Jesus, there are two white-lit evergreens, one at each end of the coffee table. On the buffet a second nativity is displayed, this one carved of wood and including both shepherds and wise men. Angels, one on each end, sing of the Messiah's birth. And finally, on the end table, a beautiful blue and white ceramic depicts the flight to Egypt. Mary holds the baby Jesus, perched on a horse led by the protective Joseph. Everywhere I look I see Jesus.
My iPod is my constant friend this season, playing the beautiful melodies and harmonies that envelop the amazing words that feed my soul with the wonder of Jesus, leaving the glory of heaven to become a human being who would one day take the punishment for the sin of the world. I have listened over and over to the music of a local artist (Stephanie Seefeldt) who recently released a Christmas album which includes some of the most poignant lyrics imaginable. I have been deeply moved by several a capella groups that have brought old words to life in breathtaking new ways. In every sound that pours into my heart, I hear Jesus.
My soul is grateful for such rich nourishment. My soul has been longing for such food.
Soul food connects the eternal part of our being with the eternal God Himself. It is found in the simultaneous simplicity and magnificence of creation, it is found in beauty of music that stirs us to the core, and it is found in the message preserved through the centuries: the living Word of God. I think one of the reasons the Bible is such satisfying soul food is because its authenticity touches us right where we are. It introduces us to real people who have the same struggles and doubts as we do and doesn't sugar coat their failings. When Zechariah was visited by the angel Gabriel and received the news that his wife Elizabeth would bear a son he said, "How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years." I love the response: "I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of GOD, and I have been sent to speak to you and tell you this news." God sent an archangel and Zechariah still couldn't believe it. Oh, how I see myself in Zechariah. It's not enough that God has performed miracles in my life...from time to time, I still doubt.
When I find myself in such a place, I know my starved soul is longing for the touch, a visitation, a word, a connection point with the Almighty God. And when I simply stop running long enough to invite Him to speak and be quiet long enough to listen, He never disappoints.
My iPod is my constant friend this season, playing the beautiful melodies and harmonies that envelop the amazing words that feed my soul with the wonder of Jesus, leaving the glory of heaven to become a human being who would one day take the punishment for the sin of the world. I have listened over and over to the music of a local artist (Stephanie Seefeldt) who recently released a Christmas album which includes some of the most poignant lyrics imaginable. I have been deeply moved by several a capella groups that have brought old words to life in breathtaking new ways. In every sound that pours into my heart, I hear Jesus.
My soul is grateful for such rich nourishment. My soul has been longing for such food.
Soul food connects the eternal part of our being with the eternal God Himself. It is found in the simultaneous simplicity and magnificence of creation, it is found in beauty of music that stirs us to the core, and it is found in the message preserved through the centuries: the living Word of God. I think one of the reasons the Bible is such satisfying soul food is because its authenticity touches us right where we are. It introduces us to real people who have the same struggles and doubts as we do and doesn't sugar coat their failings. When Zechariah was visited by the angel Gabriel and received the news that his wife Elizabeth would bear a son he said, "How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years." I love the response: "I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of GOD, and I have been sent to speak to you and tell you this news." God sent an archangel and Zechariah still couldn't believe it. Oh, how I see myself in Zechariah. It's not enough that God has performed miracles in my life...from time to time, I still doubt.
When I find myself in such a place, I know my starved soul is longing for the touch, a visitation, a word, a connection point with the Almighty God. And when I simply stop running long enough to invite Him to speak and be quiet long enough to listen, He never disappoints.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Soul Food - Part One
Sometimes, I'm just out of whack. When I feel frazzled, I have to stop and take a step backwards, survey the situation and see what has caused my world to be atilt. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, I can point to a singular self-induced starting point. In fact, so often is this the case that I'm coming to the point in my life I can just skip the backwards step and know straight up what my problem is.
I've done it again.
I fall into this very bad habit of paying tons of attention to the temporal things in my life while neglecting the eternal. I remember to lay out my clothes the night before and spend enough time in the morning to look presentable...and pretty much without fail...but then it happens. I've gotten caught up in the mundane and have forgotten the profound. Again.
And then I wonder why the world seems overwhelming.
My soul is not demanding. In fact, that is probably the reason why it gets put aside from time to time. There are far more *urgent* calls on my energies, so it is not hard to understand why my soul gets treated like a second class citizen, but boy oh boy...when it does, things start to fall apart.
Our souls are the eternal life force within us that call out for a connection with our Creator. Our souls see the beauty (in fact, they long for beauty), they reach beyond the moment to eternity, and they are the link between us in the present and us in the forever. Our souls need to be lovingly cared for and nurtured, because when we neglect them, we lose our God-connection and our wings are clipped and instead of being able to soar, we're earthbound, stuck in ourselves.
When my soul begins to protest from lack of attention, my first inclination is to stick her back in the crib, shut the door, and let her cry it out. I'll show her a thing or two about longing for more - she's nothing more than a faithless whiner. The enemy of my soul says, "it's all about believing the truth - and putting feeling before fact is for fickle pansies. It doesn't matter whether you feel it or not - it's the truth that matters. So buck up." The enemy wants my faith to be soul-less, connected like a computer to its power source by a cable. The enemy wants me to believe a better cable is all I need. That kind of connection may be enough for my mind, which feeds on data, but it just doesn't satisfy my soul.
My soul needs more.
My soul needs more because this is the way God created me - with a body, a mind, AND a soul. When my prayers feel like they are going nowhere, when I wonder if God is really still out there...somewhere...when I start to look for a place to go - anywhere would be better than here, I know my starving soul is crying out for help. For nourishment. For soul food.
To be continued...
I've done it again.
I fall into this very bad habit of paying tons of attention to the temporal things in my life while neglecting the eternal. I remember to lay out my clothes the night before and spend enough time in the morning to look presentable...and pretty much without fail...but then it happens. I've gotten caught up in the mundane and have forgotten the profound. Again.
And then I wonder why the world seems overwhelming.
My soul is not demanding. In fact, that is probably the reason why it gets put aside from time to time. There are far more *urgent* calls on my energies, so it is not hard to understand why my soul gets treated like a second class citizen, but boy oh boy...when it does, things start to fall apart.
Our souls are the eternal life force within us that call out for a connection with our Creator. Our souls see the beauty (in fact, they long for beauty), they reach beyond the moment to eternity, and they are the link between us in the present and us in the forever. Our souls need to be lovingly cared for and nurtured, because when we neglect them, we lose our God-connection and our wings are clipped and instead of being able to soar, we're earthbound, stuck in ourselves.
When my soul begins to protest from lack of attention, my first inclination is to stick her back in the crib, shut the door, and let her cry it out. I'll show her a thing or two about longing for more - she's nothing more than a faithless whiner. The enemy of my soul says, "it's all about believing the truth - and putting feeling before fact is for fickle pansies. It doesn't matter whether you feel it or not - it's the truth that matters. So buck up." The enemy wants my faith to be soul-less, connected like a computer to its power source by a cable. The enemy wants me to believe a better cable is all I need. That kind of connection may be enough for my mind, which feeds on data, but it just doesn't satisfy my soul.
My soul needs more.
My soul needs more because this is the way God created me - with a body, a mind, AND a soul. When my prayers feel like they are going nowhere, when I wonder if God is really still out there...somewhere...when I start to look for a place to go - anywhere would be better than here, I know my starving soul is crying out for help. For nourishment. For soul food.
To be continued...
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Heart and Soul
(This post is part of a series. To start at the beginning, click HERE, scroll down to "Beginnings", and then scroll up the page, reading chronologically. When you get to the top of the page, go all the way back to the bottom to click on "newer posts". Start reading at the bottom of the page, again, working your way up. Confused yet? Me, too.)
As kids, we used to play a fun little piano duet with one another, pounding out the melody and the accompanying chords to the song we never heard on the radio but was just as much a part of us, Heart and Soul. Only today, after all these years do I stop and wonder if the song actually had lyrics (it did!).
Heart and soul, I fell in love with you,
Heart and soul, the way a fool would do,
Madly...
Because you held me tight,
And stole a kiss in the night...
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/f/frank_loesser/heart_and_soul.html ]
Heart and soul, I begged to be adored,
Lost control, and tumbled overboard,
Gladly...
That magic night we kissed,
There in the moon mist.
Oh! but your lips were thrilling, much too thrilling,
Never before were mine so strangely willing.
But now I see, what one embrace can do,
Look at me, it's got me loving you,
Madly...
That little kiss you stole,
Held all my heart and soul.
Why, today, was Heart and Soul the tune I found whistling in my head when I awoke?
Maybe it's because these words have been swirling in my head for weeks:
I have found it beyond interesting to discover that the vast majority of times the *soul* is mentioned in the Bible it is partnered with the *heart*. Deuteronomy, seemingly the longest sermon ever, is Moses' message to the Israelite people before they enter the Promised Land. And in Deuteronomy, Moses reiterates - no less than nine times - the people are to love God and serve God with their whole heart AND their whole soul. Nine mentions of the heart and the soul together in the same book certainly gets my attention. From the very depth of who we are - the command center of our belief system, our passions, our deepest thoughts and desires coupled with the eternal nature of our being, the part of us that is able to connect with the Living God - from this place, we are commanded to engage it all, to commit it all and to give it all in love and service to God with no less passion than when we fall in love on a human level.
We sing this simple chorus at church from time to time - it is the prayer of my heart today.
This is my desire to honor you
As kids, we used to play a fun little piano duet with one another, pounding out the melody and the accompanying chords to the song we never heard on the radio but was just as much a part of us, Heart and Soul. Only today, after all these years do I stop and wonder if the song actually had lyrics (it did!).
Heart and soul, I fell in love with you,
Heart and soul, the way a fool would do,
Madly...
Because you held me tight,
And stole a kiss in the night...
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/f/frank_loesser/heart_and_soul.html ]
Heart and soul, I begged to be adored,
Lost control, and tumbled overboard,
Gladly...
That magic night we kissed,
There in the moon mist.
Oh! but your lips were thrilling, much too thrilling,
Never before were mine so strangely willing.
But now I see, what one embrace can do,
Look at me, it's got me loving you,
Madly...
That little kiss you stole,
Held all my heart and soul.
Why, today, was Heart and Soul the tune I found whistling in my head when I awoke?
Maybe it's because these words have been swirling in my head for weeks:
Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul...
I have found it beyond interesting to discover that the vast majority of times the *soul* is mentioned in the Bible it is partnered with the *heart*. Deuteronomy, seemingly the longest sermon ever, is Moses' message to the Israelite people before they enter the Promised Land. And in Deuteronomy, Moses reiterates - no less than nine times - the people are to love God and serve God with their whole heart AND their whole soul. Nine mentions of the heart and the soul together in the same book certainly gets my attention. From the very depth of who we are - the command center of our belief system, our passions, our deepest thoughts and desires coupled with the eternal nature of our being, the part of us that is able to connect with the Living God - from this place, we are commanded to engage it all, to commit it all and to give it all in love and service to God with no less passion than when we fall in love on a human level.
We sing this simple chorus at church from time to time - it is the prayer of my heart today.
This is my desire to honor you
Lord with all my heart
I worship you
I worship you
With all I have within me
I give you praise
All that I adore
is in you
I give you praise
All that I adore
is in you
CHORUS:
Lord I give you my heart
I give you my soul
I live for you alone
Every breath that I take
Every moment I'm awake
Lord have your way in me
Lord I give you my heart
I give you my soul
I live for you alone
Every breath that I take
Every moment I'm awake
Lord have your way in me
--Hillsong United
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Soul Sleep
(This post is part of a series. To start at the beginning, click HERE, and then scroll up the page, reading chronologically. When you get to the top of the page, go all the way back to the bottom to click on "newer posts". Start reading at the bottom of the page, again, working your way up. Confused yet? Me, too.)
Mark 12:30
Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.
If the heart is the place where we feel the deepest feelings and treasure the deepest thoughts and live out the deepest love, then the soul is the eternal, live-giving part of us that connects us to the life-giver. Even deeper within than the heart, the soul is the actual connection point between the here-and-now and the forever. Everlasting life has already begun, and we are on a journey to join that eternal part of us (which now resides in a temporary body) with the Creator for the consummation of all He has promised to those who love Him.
I wish I could say the journey is always energizing and I'm always propelled in the right direction. Some days, though, I can't even get out of bed. I know it's time to get up. I know what I need to do, but it's as if my soul is still asleep and can't wake up and the connection between the eternal part of me and the Eternal One is cutting in and out because I keep hitting the snooze button. As with the disciples in the garden who were about to face untold upheaval, Jesus calls out to me to wake up and pray. He said to them, "Why are you sleeping? Get up and pray so that you will not fall into temptation." (Luke 22:46)
Wake up, oh my sleeping soul, wake up.
Mark 12:30
Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.
If the heart is the place where we feel the deepest feelings and treasure the deepest thoughts and live out the deepest love, then the soul is the eternal, live-giving part of us that connects us to the life-giver. Even deeper within than the heart, the soul is the actual connection point between the here-and-now and the forever. Everlasting life has already begun, and we are on a journey to join that eternal part of us (which now resides in a temporary body) with the Creator for the consummation of all He has promised to those who love Him.
I wish I could say the journey is always energizing and I'm always propelled in the right direction. Some days, though, I can't even get out of bed. I know it's time to get up. I know what I need to do, but it's as if my soul is still asleep and can't wake up and the connection between the eternal part of me and the Eternal One is cutting in and out because I keep hitting the snooze button. As with the disciples in the garden who were about to face untold upheaval, Jesus calls out to me to wake up and pray. He said to them, "Why are you sleeping? Get up and pray so that you will not fall into temptation." (Luke 22:46)
Wake up, oh my sleeping soul, wake up.
Friday, November 25, 2011
A Devoted Heart
I am inspired by the devotion of the prophet Daniel. Though pressed into the service of the Babylonian king who did not know or follow God, Daniel demonstrated what it means to love God with one's whole heart and live in the world while not succumbing to the ways of the world. Daniel was committed to living out his devotion to God no matter who decreed the only acceptable prayers were those offered to the King. When Daniel got wind of this newly signed decree, he went straight away to his room, opened the windows and prayed toward Jerusalem three times a day, just as he had done before.
I admire this about Daniel. He chose to be devoted to God no matter what the cost. To me, this is what a fully devoted heart looks like.
I think that sometimes we evangelicals try so hard to not look like legalists that we forget the power of disciplined devotion. Daniel could have rationalized that God, knowing the heart of all men, would be fine with mid-day prayers being conducted from the bedside instead of the window. The words would have been the same - what is the difference where they are prayed? No, Daniel chose out-loud devotion above personal safety and refused to compromise that devotion for any reason. I, on the other hand, find it all too easy to choose personal comfort over wholehearted devotion while absolving my cowardice to any lame excuse.
I want Daniel's committed devotion. I want to fearlessly be the right person at the right time, demonstrating my wholehearted love in a way that brings a smile to my Savior's face.
I admire this about Daniel. He chose to be devoted to God no matter what the cost. To me, this is what a fully devoted heart looks like.
I think that sometimes we evangelicals try so hard to not look like legalists that we forget the power of disciplined devotion. Daniel could have rationalized that God, knowing the heart of all men, would be fine with mid-day prayers being conducted from the bedside instead of the window. The words would have been the same - what is the difference where they are prayed? No, Daniel chose out-loud devotion above personal safety and refused to compromise that devotion for any reason. I, on the other hand, find it all too easy to choose personal comfort over wholehearted devotion while absolving my cowardice to any lame excuse.
I want Daniel's committed devotion. I want to fearlessly be the right person at the right time, demonstrating my wholehearted love in a way that brings a smile to my Savior's face.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
A Thankful Heart
My heart, which has been a little dead of late, is coming back to life. As I have been working my way through the first phrase of the first and greatest commandment, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength," I find my heart refreshed and renewed.
It is no chore to love the Lord with all my heart. All I have to do is stop and remember that He loved me first and best. When I consider what He has accomplished for...me...I am overwhelmed with thanksgiving and gratitude and praise.
Several times in the past week, as Flyboy and I sit side by side in our recliners after dinner like a little old couple, I have found myself crying tears of joy, overcome by God's provision for us. What am I so thankful for? First of all, that Flyboy made it to his 60th birthday and is currently maintaining good health. This is not a blessing taken for granted. We both have jobs and are able to enjoy the gift of giving. Having been on the receiving end an awful lot when we were young and poor during our early years in ministry, the ability to share with others brings us great joy. Our children, each one, know the Lord - and the singular most important task we were entrusted with at their birth has been realized. Our two married children chose very, very well, and the blessing of seeing them married to their soul mates leaves me breathless. We have three amazing grandchildren and a fourth on the way. And, for the second year in a row, I am able to fly to London over spring break to be with them. Unspeakable joy! We shake our heads at the material blessings we have enjoyed this year, feeling unworthy but incredibly showered with God's love.
I could write pages on the thankfulness pouring from my heart right now. And it is this thankfulness that reminds me of the fact that loving God with all my heart is not such a hard thing after all. All I have to do is stop and recite a litany of thanksgiving and I remember...He who has done more for me than I can think or imagine is deserving of my whole heart. I offer it to Him.
It is no chore to love the Lord with all my heart. All I have to do is stop and remember that He loved me first and best. When I consider what He has accomplished for...me...I am overwhelmed with thanksgiving and gratitude and praise.
Several times in the past week, as Flyboy and I sit side by side in our recliners after dinner like a little old couple, I have found myself crying tears of joy, overcome by God's provision for us. What am I so thankful for? First of all, that Flyboy made it to his 60th birthday and is currently maintaining good health. This is not a blessing taken for granted. We both have jobs and are able to enjoy the gift of giving. Having been on the receiving end an awful lot when we were young and poor during our early years in ministry, the ability to share with others brings us great joy. Our children, each one, know the Lord - and the singular most important task we were entrusted with at their birth has been realized. Our two married children chose very, very well, and the blessing of seeing them married to their soul mates leaves me breathless. We have three amazing grandchildren and a fourth on the way. And, for the second year in a row, I am able to fly to London over spring break to be with them. Unspeakable joy! We shake our heads at the material blessings we have enjoyed this year, feeling unworthy but incredibly showered with God's love.
I could write pages on the thankfulness pouring from my heart right now. And it is this thankfulness that reminds me of the fact that loving God with all my heart is not such a hard thing after all. All I have to do is stop and recite a litany of thanksgiving and I remember...He who has done more for me than I can think or imagine is deserving of my whole heart. I offer it to Him.
Psalm 148
1 Praise the LORD.
Praise the LORD from the heavens;
praise him in the heights above.
2 Praise him, all his angels;
praise him, all his heavenly hosts.
3 Praise him, sun and moon;
praise him, all you shining stars.
4 Praise him, you highest heavens
and you waters above the skies.
5 Let them praise the name of the LORD,
for at his command they were created,
6 and he established them for ever and ever—
he issued a decree that will never pass away.
7 Praise the LORD from the earth,
you great sea creatures and all ocean depths,
8 lightning and hail, snow and clouds,
stormy winds that do his bidding,
9 you mountains and all hills,
fruit trees and all cedars,
10 wild animals and all cattle,
small creatures and flying birds,
11 kings of the earth and all nations,
you princes and all rulers on earth,
12 young men and women,
old men and children.
13 Let them praise the name of the LORD,
for his name alone is exalted;
his splendor is above the earth and the heavens.
14 And he has raised up for his people a horn,
the praise of all his faithful servants,
of Israel, the people close to his heart.
Praise the LORD.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Heart Check
“Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life.” Proverbs 4:23 NLT
heart [hahrt] (dictionary.com)
- the center of the total personality, especially with reference to intuition, feeling, or emotion: In your heart you know I'm an honest man.
- the center of emotion, especially as contrasted to the head as the center of the intellect: His head told him not to fall in love, but his heart had the final say.
- capacity for sympathy; feeling; affection: His heart moved him to help the needy.
The God who created us knows us through and through. He knows that most of the time our heart dictates the path we take. Thus the admonition to guard our hearts...if my heart determines the course of my life, I better take extra care to keep my heart in check. And what is the best way to do that? By making sure my heart (the center of who I am) is focused first on what is most important: loving God with all I am.
But experience shows me that my heart cannot always be trusted. Sometimes I think I know what I'm about when I realize I've gotten off the track. Forgetting to guard my heart, I get sucked in to whatever feels right at the time. Then it's time to take a step back, remember what I'm called to do, and turn my heart back towards Jesus.
So how do I know if my heart is in the right place? By conducting a little check-up...by asking a simple question: is it my deepest desire to love God with all my heart?
Thursday, November 10, 2011
First and Foremost
It seems to me that perhaps one of the reasons why "love the Lord with all your heart" comes first on the list is because our heart is the place where we first recognize our need. We all come to God broken before anything else, and it is the first thing He heals in us. Before we ever cement our belief system, we realize we have a problem we cannot fix. It is our brokenness that draws us to God from the start, and in our brokenness we realize the fact that before we ever realized how broken we were, He loved us first and has provided everything we need to be put back together again. All we have to do is open our heart to Him and receive what He freely offers. It is an amazing thought, that no matter what the mess I've made, God forgives me and gives me a new start.
We always sing this song at Thanksgiving time, but the message is powerful every day of the year. This is the first and most important reason why I want to love Him wholeheartedly, holding nothing back.
We always sing this song at Thanksgiving time, but the message is powerful every day of the year. This is the first and most important reason why I want to love Him wholeheartedly, holding nothing back.
My heart is filled with thankfulness
To Him who bore my pain;
To Him who bore my pain;
Who plumbed the depths of my disgrace
And gave me life again;
Who crushed my curse of sinfulness
And clothed me in His light
And wrote His law of righteousness
With pow'r upon my heart.
My heart is filled with thankfulness
To Him who walks beside;
Who floods my weaknesses with strength
And causes fears to fly;
Whose ev'ry promise is enough
For ev'ry step I take,
Sustaining me with arms of love
And crowning me with grace.
My heart is filled with thankfulness
To him who reigns above,
Whose wisdom is my perfect peace,
Whose ev'ry thought is love.
For ev'ry day I have on earth
Is given by the King;
So I will give my life, my all,
To love and follow him.
"My Heart Is Filled with Thankfulness"
Words and Music by Keith Getty & Stuart Townend
Copyright © 2003 Thankyou Music
Friday, November 4, 2011
One and Only
[This post is part of a series...click HERE to start at the beginning.]
So what is it, really, that keeps me from loving Jesus with my whole heart? What robs my attention from Him? What pulls on my time and my energy? What would whole-hearted devotion look like and how does that look different from where I live?
I think that when I truly love Jesus with my whole heart His great name is the first to roll off my tongue when I wake up and the last one when I go to bed at night. Pleasing Him is the benchmark for everything I do. He is the first one I run to with a funny story or a question or a concern or an issue.
But truthfully, I more often run to Google first. Having the knowledge of the world at my fingertips is a little intoxicating to an information junkie. Somehow, I think the Creator of all the universes we could ever hope to discover has the answer to any question I could possibly imagine. And so much more.
When I am tempted to stop anywhere else first, I need to remember WHO it is that I'm yearning to get home to. HE is the One who loved me first, HE is the One who loves me most, HE is the One who loves me best, and HE is the One who deserves my whole-hearted devotion.
Natalie Grant sings the most beautiful song about the One and Only - why wouldn't I love Him with everything I have and am and hope for?
Lost are saved; find their way; at the sound of Your great name
All condemned; feel no shame, at the sound of Your great name
Every fear; has no place; at the sound of Your great name
The enemy; he has to leave; at the sound of Your great name
Jesus, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain for us, Son of God and Man
You are high and lifted up; and all the world will praise Your great name
All the weak; find their strength; at the sound of Your great name
Hungry souls; receive grace; at the sound of Your great name
The fatherless; they find their rest; at the sound of Your great name
Sick are healed; and the dead are raised; at the sound of Your great name
Jesus, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain for us, Son of God and Man
You are high and lifted up; and all the world will praise Your great name
Redeemer, My Healer, Lord Almighty
My Savior, Defender, You are My King
Jesus, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain for us, Son of God and Man
You are high and lifted up; and all the world will praise Your great name
So what is it, really, that keeps me from loving Jesus with my whole heart? What robs my attention from Him? What pulls on my time and my energy? What would whole-hearted devotion look like and how does that look different from where I live?
I think that when I truly love Jesus with my whole heart His great name is the first to roll off my tongue when I wake up and the last one when I go to bed at night. Pleasing Him is the benchmark for everything I do. He is the first one I run to with a funny story or a question or a concern or an issue.
But truthfully, I more often run to Google first. Having the knowledge of the world at my fingertips is a little intoxicating to an information junkie. Somehow, I think the Creator of all the universes we could ever hope to discover has the answer to any question I could possibly imagine. And so much more.
When I am tempted to stop anywhere else first, I need to remember WHO it is that I'm yearning to get home to. HE is the One who loved me first, HE is the One who loves me most, HE is the One who loves me best, and HE is the One who deserves my whole-hearted devotion.
Natalie Grant sings the most beautiful song about the One and Only - why wouldn't I love Him with everything I have and am and hope for?
Lost are saved; find their way; at the sound of Your great name
All condemned; feel no shame, at the sound of Your great name
Every fear; has no place; at the sound of Your great name
The enemy; he has to leave; at the sound of Your great name
Jesus, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain for us, Son of God and Man
You are high and lifted up; and all the world will praise Your great name
All the weak; find their strength; at the sound of Your great name
Hungry souls; receive grace; at the sound of Your great name
The fatherless; they find their rest; at the sound of Your great name
Sick are healed; and the dead are raised; at the sound of Your great name
Jesus, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain for us, Son of God and Man
You are high and lifted up; and all the world will praise Your great name
Redeemer, My Healer, Lord Almighty
My Savior, Defender, You are My King
Jesus, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain for us, Son of God and Man
You are high and lifted up; and all the world will praise Your great name
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Yes! Yes!
There are certain prayers we pray that are guaranteed to be answered. Others...not so much. Let's take a little quiz. Which prayer might God be inclined to answer and which one might He ignore?
- "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."
- "Oh Lord, would you buy me a Mercedes Benz?"
We set ourselves up for disappointment and failure when we pray out of the will of God. On the other hand, we set ourselves up for success and a joy-filled life when we offer up the kinds of prayers that make God smile. This is a pretty easy concept for any parent to understand. Which request from one of my children would I be more inclined to smile about?
- "Mom, I need you to take me to the mall. And I need money for the movie, food, and those jeans I've been wanting."
- "Mom, after all you've done for me today, how about you sit down with a cup of tea and let me do the dishes?"
Well, it COULD happen...
In the course of pondering Mark 12:30 ("Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all you strength."), I came upon a fascinating verse that gives us a clue how to begin this process:
"The Lord will circumcise your hearts and the hearts of your descendants, so that you may love Him with all your heart and all your soul, and live." (Deuteronomy 30:6)
This verse shows up about twenty chapters after one similar to it:
"Circumcise your hearts, therefore, and do not be stiff-necked any longer." (Deuteronomy 10:16)
One verse says God will do the circumcising while the other one tells us to do it ourselves. Rather than get hung up on any imagined contradictions, I choose to interpret it as a both/and, rather than an either/or. Both are important. When we see something that needs to be dealt with in our lives, we need to act on it immediately. When we don't, a covering begins to encase our heart and we become harder and harder to the things of God. At the same time, we need God to do the heavy work, and we need to cooperate with His work in our life.
I am praying everyday that God would circumcise my heart - that He would cut away whatever stands in the way of my complete love for him - the "with all your heart" kind of love. I believe this is the kind of prayer that God is dying to answer, and as I pray it with all my heart, He will carve away at anything that stands between me and His perfect will for my life.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Heartectomy
There is nothing wishy-washy about loving God whole-heartedly. It is, without a doubt, an all or nothing proposition. I have found myself more than once going through the motions, doing the *right* things (reading the Bible regularly, being involved in ministry, etc.) but lacking the passionate love for Jesus that He articulated as the first, foremost and really, the only thing He wants from me. Like the Ephesians who were addressed by John in Revelation 2, I am guilty.
1 “To the angel[a] of the church in Ephesus write:
What is the only acceptable response to this dilemma? "Repent and do the things you did at first." Look back and remember the love that burned within your heart, repent for growing cold, return to Me...this is what God says to me when I find myself having forgotten how to love Him with all that I am.
Moses, in Deuteronomy 30, gets REALLY serious as he expounds on an earlier admonition to "circumcise your hearts, therefore, and do not be stiff-necked any longer" (Deut. 10:16). This is the way, he says, to be a fully devoted God-follower - by allowing HIM to do the heavy lifting, whatever it takes to bring us to the place we need to be:
6 The LORD your God will circumcise your hearts and the hearts of your descendants, so that you may love him with all your heart and with all your soul, and live.
Surgery is what is required...a removal of the covering I allow to grow over my heart. Only when it is cut away can I love Him with all my heart. Something stands in the way. It comes between me and the God who demonstrated His love for me in the most unimaginable way - by giving Himself on my behalf that I might be made right before a Holy God. God is the surgeon and I place myself in His hands, trusting Him to cut as deep as He needs to in order to get rid of whatever it is that holds me back...so that [I] may love him with all [my] heart and with all [my] soul and live.
1 “To the angel[a] of the church in Ephesus write:
These are the words of him who holds the seven stars in his right hand and walks among the seven golden lampstands. 2 I know your deeds, your hard work and your perseverance. I know that you cannot tolerate wicked people, that you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them false. 3 You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown weary.
4 Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken the love you had at first. 5 Consider how far you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first. If you do not repent, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place.
Moses, in Deuteronomy 30, gets REALLY serious as he expounds on an earlier admonition to "circumcise your hearts, therefore, and do not be stiff-necked any longer" (Deut. 10:16). This is the way, he says, to be a fully devoted God-follower - by allowing HIM to do the heavy lifting, whatever it takes to bring us to the place we need to be:
6 The LORD your God will circumcise your hearts and the hearts of your descendants, so that you may love him with all your heart and with all your soul, and live.
Surgery is what is required...a removal of the covering I allow to grow over my heart. Only when it is cut away can I love Him with all my heart. Something stands in the way. It comes between me and the God who demonstrated His love for me in the most unimaginable way - by giving Himself on my behalf that I might be made right before a Holy God. God is the surgeon and I place myself in His hands, trusting Him to cut as deep as He needs to in order to get rid of whatever it is that holds me back...so that [I] may love him with all [my] heart and with all [my] soul and live.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
With All My Heart
I don't think this greatest-commandment-verse is written in any old random order - I think it is very intentional.
"Love the Lord your God with all your (1) heart, with all your (2) soul, with all your (3) mind, and with all your (4) strength." --Mark 12:30
It's not a coincidence, it's very much on purpose.
Jesus, quoting from the Old Testament, tells us how to love, and by the way, this concept of loving God with our whole being is found in Deuteronomy no less than thirteen times. The book of Deuteronomy is one long sermon given by Moses to help prepare the Israelites for their new life in the Promised Land. What is the repeating theme, over and over again? Love the Lord your God with all you heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.
This command (the only command we need) starts with, first off, love the Lord your God with all your heart. We consider ourselves rational thinkers, and when we stop to consider the order of how one should love God, I bet we'll jump first to love the Lord your God with all your mind every time. When our minds are informed with the truth, when we have all the facts, when we have settled all the arguments, then, and only then, are we ready to love God. I know this is the way I was taught. I remember an illustration about a train. It only ran when it was powered by fact, which was fueled by faith. Feeling came last, and was definitely not to be trusted, There was a general reaction to the Jesus movement by conservative Christianity that a faith fueled by emotion was shallow at best, if it could be called faith at all. I think the Jesus movement grabbed people by the heart - which is exactly the place to begin loving Jesus. When the facts come first, it is all too easy to forget how to love with all our hearts.
Loving God with all our mind is number three on the list, not number one.
How on earth do I go about loving God with all my heart? What does that even mean? I understand it in a limited way because I've been married to the same man for the past 36 years, and I think I can honestly say I love him with my whole heart. My heart is fully his, and it belongs to no one else. In fact, I can't even imagine sharing it with another man. During the past three years Flyboy has survived two encounters with cancer and a mega-virus that landed him in the hospital for a week. We have had more than one conversation about the what-ifs and Flyboy has said out loud that if he precedes me in death I should remarry. I can't even begin to conceive of such a thing. He is the only man for me and I have no room in my heart for anyone else.
Which just barely scratches the surface of what loving God with our whole heart might look like...
"Love the Lord your God with all your (1) heart, with all your (2) soul, with all your (3) mind, and with all your (4) strength." --Mark 12:30
It's not a coincidence, it's very much on purpose.
Jesus, quoting from the Old Testament, tells us how to love, and by the way, this concept of loving God with our whole being is found in Deuteronomy no less than thirteen times. The book of Deuteronomy is one long sermon given by Moses to help prepare the Israelites for their new life in the Promised Land. What is the repeating theme, over and over again? Love the Lord your God with all you heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.
This command (the only command we need) starts with, first off, love the Lord your God with all your heart. We consider ourselves rational thinkers, and when we stop to consider the order of how one should love God, I bet we'll jump first to love the Lord your God with all your mind every time. When our minds are informed with the truth, when we have all the facts, when we have settled all the arguments, then, and only then, are we ready to love God. I know this is the way I was taught. I remember an illustration about a train. It only ran when it was powered by fact, which was fueled by faith. Feeling came last, and was definitely not to be trusted, There was a general reaction to the Jesus movement by conservative Christianity that a faith fueled by emotion was shallow at best, if it could be called faith at all. I think the Jesus movement grabbed people by the heart - which is exactly the place to begin loving Jesus. When the facts come first, it is all too easy to forget how to love with all our hearts.
Loving God with all our mind is number three on the list, not number one.
How on earth do I go about loving God with all my heart? What does that even mean? I understand it in a limited way because I've been married to the same man for the past 36 years, and I think I can honestly say I love him with my whole heart. My heart is fully his, and it belongs to no one else. In fact, I can't even imagine sharing it with another man. During the past three years Flyboy has survived two encounters with cancer and a mega-virus that landed him in the hospital for a week. We have had more than one conversation about the what-ifs and Flyboy has said out loud that if he precedes me in death I should remarry. I can't even begin to conceive of such a thing. He is the only man for me and I have no room in my heart for anyone else.
Which just barely scratches the surface of what loving God with our whole heart might look like...
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
It's About Love
It has always struck me as interesting that in Jesus' final prayer before His arrest (John 17), the one thing that He prayed for us was NOT the thing you might expect. He did not pray for our theological purity. He did not pray for victory over sin, and while He wants our obedience, He did not even pray for that. He prayed that we (believers) would be "one" as He and the Father are one so that the world might experience firsthand the love that He and the Father share.
It always, always, always boils down to love.
Paul said (I Corinthinans 13) that we can get it all right - we can say the right things, we can believe the right things, we can do the right things - but if we don't have love, it's all just a waste of time. And when the Sadducees and Pharisees, stumped by His command of the Scripture asked Him which was the greatest commandment in the Law, Jesus simply replied, "Love the Lord your God with all you heart and with all your soul and with all your mind" (Matthew 22:37).
When life gets a little toxic and when we get hung up on what we do instead of Who we do it for, love is the place to go.
I'm getting on the love train. I want to really unpack the idea of loving God with every fiber of who I am...what it looks like, how it plays out in my life, and how it changes my outlook on everything. It's about love, pure and simple. When everything else is stripped away, love is the final answer.
Monday, October 24, 2011
The Answer is Right There...Somewhere
We're taught from our baby Christian days on that Bible study and prayer are the keys to a successful relationship with Christ. I'm not here to dispute that notion, but my experience has shown me it's a little more complicated than that. I don't think it's supposed to be complicated - Jesus was the one who said his yoke is easy and his burden is light. I think that like the rabbis of old who took the fairly straightforward law and turned it into something far more complicated, we are guilty of the same crime: taking the simple Gospel and muddying it up with self-help books cleverly disguised as something spiritual...with opinions and interpretations and ideas about what the Bible REALLY means. Why would I call them "self-help" books? Because, as Flyboy preached this morning, we don't get better by trying harder - we get better, or become fruit-bearers (thus fulfilling our purpose), by clinging to the vine. Books and more books are written with the latest and greatest answer to the question, "how is the Christian life meant to be lived?" If you just pray this prayer, if you just read the Bible in a year, if you follow these steps...whatever the flavor of the day prescribes...you can live the life God called you to live.
I remember a certain discipleship program I participated in many years ago. One of the boxes to check was a quiet time 14 days in a row. If you missed one day, you had to start counting all over again, and you couldn't move on until you completed the task of 14 quiet times in a row. I walked away from that exercise with two feelings. One, I did sense a genuine gratitude for the push to develop that kind of a habit, having been to that point unsuccessful. But second, I felt little empty, like I had not really gotten any farther in knowing or loving God...I'd just checked off a box and could now graduate to the next book.
So what is the answer? More Bible study? More prayer? There was a little song we sang with our kids when they were little: "Obedience is the very best way to show that you believe, doing exactly as the Lord commands, doing it happily." Besides Bible study and prayer, this is another common answer for how to get it together as a Christian - be obedient. I think I try to be obedient. I'm certainly not trying to be disobedient. What's missing?
I've been pondering this a lot lately, and I think that the way to peace with God is even easier than the four steps Billy Graham incorporated into a little tract in the 60s. It's certainly easier than a lifetime of willing oneself to be more obedient while trying to discover the right combination of doing my part and allowing God to do His. It's not meant to be hard or complicated or something where a cipher code has to be broken in order to figure it out. We are the goofy ones that make it so much harder than it really is.
I think the answer is so close I can smell it.
I remember a certain discipleship program I participated in many years ago. One of the boxes to check was a quiet time 14 days in a row. If you missed one day, you had to start counting all over again, and you couldn't move on until you completed the task of 14 quiet times in a row. I walked away from that exercise with two feelings. One, I did sense a genuine gratitude for the push to develop that kind of a habit, having been to that point unsuccessful. But second, I felt little empty, like I had not really gotten any farther in knowing or loving God...I'd just checked off a box and could now graduate to the next book.
So what is the answer? More Bible study? More prayer? There was a little song we sang with our kids when they were little: "Obedience is the very best way to show that you believe, doing exactly as the Lord commands, doing it happily." Besides Bible study and prayer, this is another common answer for how to get it together as a Christian - be obedient. I think I try to be obedient. I'm certainly not trying to be disobedient. What's missing?
I've been pondering this a lot lately, and I think that the way to peace with God is even easier than the four steps Billy Graham incorporated into a little tract in the 60s. It's certainly easier than a lifetime of willing oneself to be more obedient while trying to discover the right combination of doing my part and allowing God to do His. It's not meant to be hard or complicated or something where a cipher code has to be broken in order to figure it out. We are the goofy ones that make it so much harder than it really is.
I think the answer is so close I can smell it.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Beginnings
Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm the only one. I made a profession of faith in Christ at the age of five, when after telling my mother I wanted to take communion like the big people was followed by a conversation with the pastor, I learned that taking communion had to be proceeded by becoming a member of the church (yes this was possible at the age of five in a Southern Baptist church), which had to be proceeded by being baptized, which had to be proceeded by proclaiming faith in Christ. And yes, I know that was a very long sentence because for a five year old, it was a very long way from the question, "can I take the Lord's Supper?" to "yes, you can. You have been validated and credentialed." When the pastor asked if I believed in Jesus, I responded, "of course I believe in Jesus. And I believe in Peter and John and all those other guys, too." And a week later I was baptized, and on the next Lord's Supper Sunday, I took communion with the big people.
So, with such an auspicious beginning in the Christian faith, one might figure it would be smooth sailing from there.
Not so much, but maybe it's just me.
When I was thirteen, I attended a youth retreat at Falls Creek, a Southern Baptist camp in the Arbuckle Mountains of southern Oklahoma. At the end of our second night there, the pastor instructed us to go out on the hillside under the stars, be quiet and listen to what God might say. I felt the presence of God strongly that night, as if He were audibly saying He had given His life for ME. I was moved, and felt that my earlier proclaimed faith was slowly moving from my head to my heart.
Sometimes the difference between your head to your heart feels a whole lot farther than twelve inches. And travelling that twelve inches is taking a lifetime. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever really get there, or if understanding what faith is really all about doesn't happen until we see Jesus face to face. I'm 55 years old and sometimes I get really frustrated with myself for not being farther along in this journey than I am. It's not for a lack of trying. I've read all the latest and greatest books through the years from The Prayer of Jabez to In His Steps (the basis for the What Would Jesus Do movement) to The Purpose Driven Life and a number of the classics, like Hannah Whitall Smith and St. Augustine and Oswald Chambers. I've studied the prayer lives of George Mueller and Brother Lawrence, taken classes in everything from apologetics to evangelism, done countless Bible studies and Bible reading plans and yet there are things in my life that elude me. Like how to lose 35 stinking pounds. Or how to be the light of Christ in a black world without getting lost in the dark. Or how to really find joy in the midst of trials.
Like Vizzini, who said the only way to regroup is by going back to the beginning (name that movie), that's where I'm headed. We trivialize the profound and make the simple far, far too difficult. Someone once said that the Gospel is simple enough for a child to wade in but deep enough for a champion swimmer to drown in. I think I'm treading water somewhere in between. It's not a matter of doubt or unbelief, but just needing to go back to the beginning to remember what is really the most important.
If I wind up just talking to myself here, that's fine. But if you can relate, please chime in. I'm guessing I'm not the only one.
So, with such an auspicious beginning in the Christian faith, one might figure it would be smooth sailing from there.
Not so much, but maybe it's just me.
When I was thirteen, I attended a youth retreat at Falls Creek, a Southern Baptist camp in the Arbuckle Mountains of southern Oklahoma. At the end of our second night there, the pastor instructed us to go out on the hillside under the stars, be quiet and listen to what God might say. I felt the presence of God strongly that night, as if He were audibly saying He had given His life for ME. I was moved, and felt that my earlier proclaimed faith was slowly moving from my head to my heart.
Sometimes the difference between your head to your heart feels a whole lot farther than twelve inches. And travelling that twelve inches is taking a lifetime. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever really get there, or if understanding what faith is really all about doesn't happen until we see Jesus face to face. I'm 55 years old and sometimes I get really frustrated with myself for not being farther along in this journey than I am. It's not for a lack of trying. I've read all the latest and greatest books through the years from The Prayer of Jabez to In His Steps (the basis for the What Would Jesus Do movement) to The Purpose Driven Life and a number of the classics, like Hannah Whitall Smith and St. Augustine and Oswald Chambers. I've studied the prayer lives of George Mueller and Brother Lawrence, taken classes in everything from apologetics to evangelism, done countless Bible studies and Bible reading plans and yet there are things in my life that elude me. Like how to lose 35 stinking pounds. Or how to be the light of Christ in a black world without getting lost in the dark. Or how to really find joy in the midst of trials.
Like Vizzini, who said the only way to regroup is by going back to the beginning (name that movie), that's where I'm headed. We trivialize the profound and make the simple far, far too difficult. Someone once said that the Gospel is simple enough for a child to wade in but deep enough for a champion swimmer to drown in. I think I'm treading water somewhere in between. It's not a matter of doubt or unbelief, but just needing to go back to the beginning to remember what is really the most important.
If I wind up just talking to myself here, that's fine. But if you can relate, please chime in. I'm guessing I'm not the only one.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Making My Way Back
Yes, it has been a barren blogging summer, and I think I'm ready to try to work my way back. Blogging can be an obsession, causing one to feel the need to write every single day. I've stepped away from the blog for a season because that's right where I was. On the other hand, however, waiting for the inner prompting to write hasn't been working too well either, confirming the feeling that a break was in order.
Why do people blog anyway? For me, it is a place to fill the need to write. People who write and people who like to write understand the need to write regularly. It is a creative outlet, it is a record of thoughts and events and it communicates with the people who care most about what's going on in my life (namely my parents and my kids).
I think I'm ready to try to find a balance in blogging. I've missed blogging, and there must be a way to get some thoughts down on paper without being neurotic about it. I've frequented a couple of blogs that pick a day of the week to just post pictures, letting them speak for themselves without a lot of narration. I like that idea, particularly with young grandchildren that are changing by the minute, and seasons in life that deserve some documentation.
For today, I woke up this morning with a song in my head. This happens fairly regularly to me, where I'll have fragments of lyrics or melody floating around and when I go find the words it's like a message hand delivered to me by God for the day ahead. Today, the Casting Crowns song "Lifesong" was on the tip of my tongue.
"Lifesong"
Empty hands held high
Such small sacrifice
If not joined with my life
I sing in vain tonight
May the words I say
And the things I do
Make my lifesong sing
Bring a smile to You
Let my lifesong sing to You
Let my lifesong sing to You
I want to sing Your name to the end of this day
Knowing that my heart was true
Let my lifesong sing to You
Lord I give my life
A living sacrifice
To reach a world in need
To be Your hands and feet
So may the words I say
And the things I do
Make my lifesong sing
Bring a smile to You
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Let my lifesong sing to You
This is my prayer for the day. I hope it's yours, too.
Carol
Why do people blog anyway? For me, it is a place to fill the need to write. People who write and people who like to write understand the need to write regularly. It is a creative outlet, it is a record of thoughts and events and it communicates with the people who care most about what's going on in my life (namely my parents and my kids).
I think I'm ready to try to find a balance in blogging. I've missed blogging, and there must be a way to get some thoughts down on paper without being neurotic about it. I've frequented a couple of blogs that pick a day of the week to just post pictures, letting them speak for themselves without a lot of narration. I like that idea, particularly with young grandchildren that are changing by the minute, and seasons in life that deserve some documentation.
For today, I woke up this morning with a song in my head. This happens fairly regularly to me, where I'll have fragments of lyrics or melody floating around and when I go find the words it's like a message hand delivered to me by God for the day ahead. Today, the Casting Crowns song "Lifesong" was on the tip of my tongue.
"Lifesong"
Empty hands held high
Such small sacrifice
If not joined with my life
I sing in vain tonight
May the words I say
And the things I do
Make my lifesong sing
Bring a smile to You
Let my lifesong sing to You
Let my lifesong sing to You
I want to sing Your name to the end of this day
Knowing that my heart was true
Let my lifesong sing to You
Lord I give my life
A living sacrifice
To reach a world in need
To be Your hands and feet
So may the words I say
And the things I do
Make my lifesong sing
Bring a smile to You
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Let my lifesong sing to You
This is my prayer for the day. I hope it's yours, too.
Carol
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Senior Shopping
Peanut's first birthday is this weekend, and we headed to Target after supper to pick out a gift for her. And a card for Flyboy's pastor friend whose birthday is tomorrow. While Flyboy was looking at the cards I headed to the toy department. I've had in my head that I wanted to get Peanut an upholstered chair just her size that is sturdy enough for her to climb in and out of without tipping it over. I've searched every store in town and had this itty bitty hope that Target might be having some 60% off sale or something, but alas, the beautiful baby wingback chair in pink was still $80 and seeing that Peanut doesn't even know it's her birthday or what that even means quite yet, I think that's a little more than we want to spend. I knew this already, but the instinct was confirmed when I showed it to Flyboy and he gave me a look. You know that look. It says, "have you lost your ever-lovin' mind???" This was after he searched and searched for me in the toy department, not knowing I'd been drawn like a magnet to the furniture department on the great chair hunt. Ever the funny guy, he was carrying an ab machine for Peanut when he found me. I gave him the look. He knew exactly what it meant.
In the meantime, two lovely little old ladies were at the end of the baby doll toy aisle on the red phone looking for a cashier in electronics. One was explaining her dilemma to the person on the phone while the other was trying to find the ringing cell phone in her purse. The ensuing conversation was precious:
Lady #1: Isn't there usually someone at the electronics counter? How am I supposed to check out there when there is no one around?
Lady #2: I know I heard my phone ringing but I can't find it in my purse.
Lady #1: Maybe you left it in the car. I think you did leave it in the car.
Lady #2: I think you're right. I must have left my phone in the car.
Lady #1: But you heard it ringing - it has to be in your purse.
Red-shirted clerk: May I help you ladies?
Lady #2: I lost my cell phone. I heard it ringing but I can't find it.
Red-shirted clerk: Did you need some help at the electronics counter?
Lady #1: Unless you can find a missing cell phone, no...
Red-shirted clerk: Um...okay...well...if you need anything else, I'll be right here.
Unable to settle between the wingback chair and the ab machine, we finally found something soft we could both agree on. We checked out, got a couple of lattes from the in-store Starbucks and made our way to the parking lot.
Where we found our two ladies looking for their car. They had enlisted the help of a passing-by driver, who suggested they hit the panic button on their remote to locate their vehicle. And it worked.
Gigi: Well, that could be us in a few years, you know...
Flyboy: I certainly hope not. Just shoot me now.
In the meantime, two lovely little old ladies were at the end of the baby doll toy aisle on the red phone looking for a cashier in electronics. One was explaining her dilemma to the person on the phone while the other was trying to find the ringing cell phone in her purse. The ensuing conversation was precious:
Lady #1: Isn't there usually someone at the electronics counter? How am I supposed to check out there when there is no one around?
Lady #2: I know I heard my phone ringing but I can't find it in my purse.
Lady #1: Maybe you left it in the car. I think you did leave it in the car.
Lady #2: I think you're right. I must have left my phone in the car.
Lady #1: But you heard it ringing - it has to be in your purse.
Red-shirted clerk: May I help you ladies?
Lady #2: I lost my cell phone. I heard it ringing but I can't find it.
Red-shirted clerk: Did you need some help at the electronics counter?
Lady #1: Unless you can find a missing cell phone, no...
Red-shirted clerk: Um...okay...well...if you need anything else, I'll be right here.
Unable to settle between the wingback chair and the ab machine, we finally found something soft we could both agree on. We checked out, got a couple of lattes from the in-store Starbucks and made our way to the parking lot.
Where we found our two ladies looking for their car. They had enlisted the help of a passing-by driver, who suggested they hit the panic button on their remote to locate their vehicle. And it worked.
Gigi: Well, that could be us in a few years, you know...
Flyboy: I certainly hope not. Just shoot me now.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Double Nickel
In roughly three months, I will be celebrating my 55th birthday. I only bring this up because I've been pondering the ramifications of growing older, as, apart from the alternative, it seems to be an inevitability. Many realities accompany this conclusion, some over which one seems to have more control than others.
For example, Flyboy has reflected upon the very question that, in his own experience, has moved beyond possibility to reality: Why does the hair thin on top of my head and thicken in my ears? There is no good explanation...it just is. He has not control over where his hair decides to grow (or not grow) but he doesn't lose any sleep over it. It just is.
I have been cogitating on some of the deeper realities of life myself. Such as, who decided that having gray hair was a shameful thing? Or, on a more personal level, why do I think that looking like a grandmother (after all, I am one, and three times over) is something to be avoided at the hassle and expense of coloring my roots every 5-6 weeks? I started graying in my early 40s, and have spent the better part of the past fifteen years trying to cover that fact, like a sinister plot being held at bay. Frankly, I'm getting tired of the headache of it all, both the never-ending processing and the whole ruse itself, and as Flyboy has been encouraging me for the better part of the past fifteen years, I am letting nature take its course.
But wait...I have made an amazing discovery, thanks to the able counsel of a co-worker who was a hairdresser in a past life. The reason I began coloring my hair in the first place, lo those many years ago, was not so much to hide the truth as to put some life back into the drab, non-color, dirty dishwater blah-ness of the shade it was becoming. Now that I'm letting it go gray, I'm discovering that I'm not stuck with whatever color it happens to evolve into. I can be gray. I can be 55. Only better. Some highlights here and there are brightening my color palette and helping the grays blend in gracefully with the *dark golden blonde*.
This revelation is causing me to consider further applications of the same principal. How can I be 55 (for real), but only better? It seems to be time to contemplate my wardrobe, for example, and ask some probing questions. Are my clothes age appropriate? Flattering to my *maturing* figure? Do the earthy tones I have traditionally been drawn to help or hurt the cause? Is there a better way to work with what I have to bring out the best of 55?
And speaking of that middle-aged inner tube I'm carrying around my middle, am I just stuck with that? And how important is it to me to do something about it? Apparently not very, since it's literally be stuck there for at least ten years. But is that where I really want to be?
Fifty-five seems to be a good place to get out of the traffic, pull over, and stop in a rest area for some deeper reflection about what it means to get older.
Besides the obvious (hair, flubber, clothes), there is a whole 'nother level of introspection just waiting to be explored under the surface. Realizing that there more days behind than ahead begs the self-conversation and the prayer-conversation about what it looks like to finish well. I figure I'll spend the next three months trying to thoughtfully answer that question and then the next however-many-years-God-gives-me trying to live accordingly. Life is so much more that what we look like - or even about treating our body well. It's about who we are at the core, and what our priorities are, how we treat others, and what we do with what we know. Knowing is only the surface area of the matter. Doing is what lies beneath. Doing is what counts.
I'd really like to look back, three months from now and have a game plan. A God plan. A concrete idea of what the coming years should look like from the inside out. I don't want to just go from home to work to church to home to work to church over and over again. We all long for meaning and to know we're doing something important and fulfilling the purpose for which we were created. I'm going to be asking a lot of questions. And hopefully stumbling upon a few answers along the way.
For example, Flyboy has reflected upon the very question that, in his own experience, has moved beyond possibility to reality: Why does the hair thin on top of my head and thicken in my ears? There is no good explanation...it just is. He has not control over where his hair decides to grow (or not grow) but he doesn't lose any sleep over it. It just is.
I have been cogitating on some of the deeper realities of life myself. Such as, who decided that having gray hair was a shameful thing? Or, on a more personal level, why do I think that looking like a grandmother (after all, I am one, and three times over) is something to be avoided at the hassle and expense of coloring my roots every 5-6 weeks? I started graying in my early 40s, and have spent the better part of the past fifteen years trying to cover that fact, like a sinister plot being held at bay. Frankly, I'm getting tired of the headache of it all, both the never-ending processing and the whole ruse itself, and as Flyboy has been encouraging me for the better part of the past fifteen years, I am letting nature take its course.
But wait...I have made an amazing discovery, thanks to the able counsel of a co-worker who was a hairdresser in a past life. The reason I began coloring my hair in the first place, lo those many years ago, was not so much to hide the truth as to put some life back into the drab, non-color, dirty dishwater blah-ness of the shade it was becoming. Now that I'm letting it go gray, I'm discovering that I'm not stuck with whatever color it happens to evolve into. I can be gray. I can be 55. Only better. Some highlights here and there are brightening my color palette and helping the grays blend in gracefully with the *dark golden blonde*.
This revelation is causing me to consider further applications of the same principal. How can I be 55 (for real), but only better? It seems to be time to contemplate my wardrobe, for example, and ask some probing questions. Are my clothes age appropriate? Flattering to my *maturing* figure? Do the earthy tones I have traditionally been drawn to help or hurt the cause? Is there a better way to work with what I have to bring out the best of 55?
And speaking of that middle-aged inner tube I'm carrying around my middle, am I just stuck with that? And how important is it to me to do something about it? Apparently not very, since it's literally be stuck there for at least ten years. But is that where I really want to be?
Fifty-five seems to be a good place to get out of the traffic, pull over, and stop in a rest area for some deeper reflection about what it means to get older.
Besides the obvious (hair, flubber, clothes), there is a whole 'nother level of introspection just waiting to be explored under the surface. Realizing that there more days behind than ahead begs the self-conversation and the prayer-conversation about what it looks like to finish well. I figure I'll spend the next three months trying to thoughtfully answer that question and then the next however-many-years-God-gives-me trying to live accordingly. Life is so much more that what we look like - or even about treating our body well. It's about who we are at the core, and what our priorities are, how we treat others, and what we do with what we know. Knowing is only the surface area of the matter. Doing is what lies beneath. Doing is what counts.
I'd really like to look back, three months from now and have a game plan. A God plan. A concrete idea of what the coming years should look like from the inside out. I don't want to just go from home to work to church to home to work to church over and over again. We all long for meaning and to know we're doing something important and fulfilling the purpose for which we were created. I'm going to be asking a lot of questions. And hopefully stumbling upon a few answers along the way.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
My Baby Is Thirty
It happened the moment he was born. Well, actually, it was before that. It was shortly after we decided to try one more time to complete our family with a son. We had two beautiful daughters who could share clothes and toys and grow up as best friends, and we were content with our family of four. We fit comfortably in our small sedan, a three-bedroom house was just the right size, and when we went for walks, each parent had a hand to hold when we crossed the street. Our two bicycles had two bike carriers, and our toothbrush holder housed four toothbrushes. Truly, America was made for families of four.
But there was this nagging desire lurking deep inside to have one more child. Actually, it was me more than Flyboy. He was completely content with our little family, but I, having had two brothers, felt it important to give it one more shot. If we had another girl, we would love her with every fiber of our being, as we already loved Girlfriend and Elasti-girl. And then we would stop, no matter what. But what if...there was, after all, a 50-50 chance we'd have a boy. And, now that Flyboy wasn't flying jets anymore, our odds might have actually been better than before.
And then it happened. From the moment I found out I was pregnant that third time, I was already in love with this new little person - whether it was a boy or a girl. Ultrasounds were pretty unreliable thirty years ago, and we decided to wait until delivery day instead of wondering if we'd gotten the right information. When that day arrived, planned in advance (I'd had two prior c-sections), we checked into the hospital and were greeted by a man in scrubs, sporting a beard and a ponytail. My doctor was no where to be seen, and this man said he was covering for him. Truly, he looked more like a janitor than an obstetrician. But at 38 weeks, I decided to believe him and have a little faith that God was really in charge, no matter what the doctor looked like.
We talked through what was about to happen, and a few hours later, we were heading to pre-op. Having been unconscious for the first two deliveries, I was a little apprehensive about being awake this time. But Dr. Ponytail assured me it was in the best interest of the baby, and I proceeded to get a *spinal block*, as they called it then. Next stop, the operating room, where Dr. Ponytail was soon announcing we had a son, and I was seeing the proof for myself before they knocked me out to finish the surgery. Flyboy was waiting in the hall, where his new son was brought out, wrapped in a blanket.
We had our boy. And he was a big one, at 8 lbs 9 oz at 38 weeks.
This one was a cuddler, and he spent many hours in my arms, particularly at night, where we watched Kojak reruns to pass the time until he got the memo that nighttime is for sleeping. He preferred my company above all others, was my constant companion, and we called him my little Klingon.
Today, Bamm-Bamm is thirty years old. Now that I no longer have any children under the age of thirty, I wonder where the time went...wasn't it just yesterday that he was dismantling his sisters' tape player? That he was clomping around in his cowboy boots, not ever wanting to take them off? That he was breaking the car window with a hammer before he was two? That he took off for Joey's house one boring day - eight miles away? That his dad was coaching his first football team? That he was learning how to play the trumpet and wowing us with his musical ability?
We have really come full circle. And it took what happened yesterday to make me really realize it. Bamm-Bamm had a meeting with a client at a business near where I work. He called me, and stopped in, looking quite dashing in his suit and tie, and I took him on a tour, showing him off to all of my co-workers. He was making one good impression after another, and we made one final stop, where the last introduction took place. She smiled, with a little twinkle in her eye, and asked Bamm-Bamm, "are you the naughty one?" I felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach. I didn't know what to say...how do you recover from that? I was dumbfounded, my mind reeling, trying to remember what I could have said sometime in the past to cause her to ask such a question. I tried to breathe...tried to think...and then I heard Bamm-Bamm's unflapped voice, answering with a little chuckle, "Yes, I guess that would be me." He chatted, seemingly unaffected, until we continued our walk through the building. "I am so sorry," I said, fighting back the tears. He put his arm around me, smiled, and said, "It's okay, Mom. Really. Don't worry about it."
And that's when it hit me.
I no longer see Bamm-Bamm through a lens filtered by the past. The past is in the past and it doesn't even matter any more. There was a time when the pain of the past was a companion I longed to be free of. There was a time when the joy of the present reminded me that things weren't always this good, and a little of the pain lingered.
No longer. Today, I see my son - the man I always knew he would become - a devoted husband and father, a hard worker, a passionate man of conviction. In the past few years, when I would tell him how proud I was, it was in the vain of what he had overcome. I AM proud of what he has overcome. But now, the past is no longer in my periphery vision. Today, when I tell my son how proud I am of him, it's no longer because he's not who he was - it is because of who he is. It's not even because of what he has done by excelling at his job (which he has) - it's because of who he is on the inside. It's because he has the heart of a warrior and is loyal to the death. It's because when you ask him for ten push-ups he'll give you twenty. It's because when God put it on his heart to wear a toga and play the part of Pontius Pilate when he didn't want to, he said yes and did an amazing job. It's because he looks people in the eye and can talk to anybody. It's because he brings out the best in the people who work for him. It's because he is determined to be the best person he can be.
Bamm-Bamm, I love it that you still hug me every time we see one another. I love watching you love Pebbles and be such a great dad to Peanut. I love you for now and forever, and I'm so glad you are our son.
Happy birthday.
But there was this nagging desire lurking deep inside to have one more child. Actually, it was me more than Flyboy. He was completely content with our little family, but I, having had two brothers, felt it important to give it one more shot. If we had another girl, we would love her with every fiber of our being, as we already loved Girlfriend and Elasti-girl. And then we would stop, no matter what. But what if...there was, after all, a 50-50 chance we'd have a boy. And, now that Flyboy wasn't flying jets anymore, our odds might have actually been better than before.
And then it happened. From the moment I found out I was pregnant that third time, I was already in love with this new little person - whether it was a boy or a girl. Ultrasounds were pretty unreliable thirty years ago, and we decided to wait until delivery day instead of wondering if we'd gotten the right information. When that day arrived, planned in advance (I'd had two prior c-sections), we checked into the hospital and were greeted by a man in scrubs, sporting a beard and a ponytail. My doctor was no where to be seen, and this man said he was covering for him. Truly, he looked more like a janitor than an obstetrician. But at 38 weeks, I decided to believe him and have a little faith that God was really in charge, no matter what the doctor looked like.
We talked through what was about to happen, and a few hours later, we were heading to pre-op. Having been unconscious for the first two deliveries, I was a little apprehensive about being awake this time. But Dr. Ponytail assured me it was in the best interest of the baby, and I proceeded to get a *spinal block*, as they called it then. Next stop, the operating room, where Dr. Ponytail was soon announcing we had a son, and I was seeing the proof for myself before they knocked me out to finish the surgery. Flyboy was waiting in the hall, where his new son was brought out, wrapped in a blanket.
We had our boy. And he was a big one, at 8 lbs 9 oz at 38 weeks.
This one was a cuddler, and he spent many hours in my arms, particularly at night, where we watched Kojak reruns to pass the time until he got the memo that nighttime is for sleeping. He preferred my company above all others, was my constant companion, and we called him my little Klingon.
Today, Bamm-Bamm is thirty years old. Now that I no longer have any children under the age of thirty, I wonder where the time went...wasn't it just yesterday that he was dismantling his sisters' tape player? That he was clomping around in his cowboy boots, not ever wanting to take them off? That he was breaking the car window with a hammer before he was two? That he took off for Joey's house one boring day - eight miles away? That his dad was coaching his first football team? That he was learning how to play the trumpet and wowing us with his musical ability?
We have really come full circle. And it took what happened yesterday to make me really realize it. Bamm-Bamm had a meeting with a client at a business near where I work. He called me, and stopped in, looking quite dashing in his suit and tie, and I took him on a tour, showing him off to all of my co-workers. He was making one good impression after another, and we made one final stop, where the last introduction took place. She smiled, with a little twinkle in her eye, and asked Bamm-Bamm, "are you the naughty one?" I felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach. I didn't know what to say...how do you recover from that? I was dumbfounded, my mind reeling, trying to remember what I could have said sometime in the past to cause her to ask such a question. I tried to breathe...tried to think...and then I heard Bamm-Bamm's unflapped voice, answering with a little chuckle, "Yes, I guess that would be me." He chatted, seemingly unaffected, until we continued our walk through the building. "I am so sorry," I said, fighting back the tears. He put his arm around me, smiled, and said, "It's okay, Mom. Really. Don't worry about it."
And that's when it hit me.
I no longer see Bamm-Bamm through a lens filtered by the past. The past is in the past and it doesn't even matter any more. There was a time when the pain of the past was a companion I longed to be free of. There was a time when the joy of the present reminded me that things weren't always this good, and a little of the pain lingered.
No longer. Today, I see my son - the man I always knew he would become - a devoted husband and father, a hard worker, a passionate man of conviction. In the past few years, when I would tell him how proud I was, it was in the vain of what he had overcome. I AM proud of what he has overcome. But now, the past is no longer in my periphery vision. Today, when I tell my son how proud I am of him, it's no longer because he's not who he was - it is because of who he is. It's not even because of what he has done by excelling at his job (which he has) - it's because of who he is on the inside. It's because he has the heart of a warrior and is loyal to the death. It's because when you ask him for ten push-ups he'll give you twenty. It's because when God put it on his heart to wear a toga and play the part of Pontius Pilate when he didn't want to, he said yes and did an amazing job. It's because he looks people in the eye and can talk to anybody. It's because he brings out the best in the people who work for him. It's because he is determined to be the best person he can be.
Bamm-Bamm, I love it that you still hug me every time we see one another. I love watching you love Pebbles and be such a great dad to Peanut. I love you for now and forever, and I'm so glad you are our son.
Happy birthday.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Finally...
The first few weeks following our return home from England have been filled with many memories, along with playing catch-up and getting back into the routine of life. I've wondered how long it will take before the fresh memories fade and the days aren't interrupted with frequent pictures in my mind of England.
It was an amazing trip.
And I'm finally ready to share it with you. It's taken me this long to get the photos uploaded and organized and captioned, but I enjoyed every minute of it. I've had the chance to relive everything we saw. We've decided that England is definitely a place we could go back to.
Oh - and you won't believe this - the weather was absolutely beautiful 8 of the 9 days we were there. We basked in the 65 and sunny days, being told over and over this was NOT characteristic.
So - click on the link below and share in our English adventure!
http://s1141.photobucket.com/albums/n597/iamcaroling/England%202011/
It was an amazing trip.
And I'm finally ready to share it with you. It's taken me this long to get the photos uploaded and organized and captioned, but I enjoyed every minute of it. I've had the chance to relive everything we saw. We've decided that England is definitely a place we could go back to.
Oh - and you won't believe this - the weather was absolutely beautiful 8 of the 9 days we were there. We basked in the 65 and sunny days, being told over and over this was NOT characteristic.
So - click on the link below and share in our English adventure!
http://s1141.photobucket.com/albums/n597/iamcaroling/England%202011/
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
England! Day 7
No photos today...the ones I took yesterday from Warwick will have to wait. I'm recuperating from a whopper of a migraine and today has been a quiet day. This afternoon I've finally been able to keep some Excedrin down and am finally starting to feel better. Flyboy is out on a walk-about and as I look out the window, I see that he may have gotten sprinkled on for the first time since we've been in England. The weather has been phenomenal, and everyone we meet says this is NOT typical England weather and that they figure they're in for it sooner rather than later. As we understand it, we've missed out on some horrid weather at home, including spring snow, so we're even more thankful for the 65 degree sunny days we've enjoyed here.
Interestingly, the Incredibles live on what used to be an RAF base, and more recently, a USAF base. This explains why their housing is bigger than standard English housing, which is very nice for them. They had company for over 100 nights last year, so having an extra room has been a blessing.
I thought I'd share today some of the things I've learned since we've been here, particularly in the area of vocabulary. We've really enjoyed picking up some of the local lingo and understanding what people are saying. Let's see...a quiz or a glossary? What would be more fun? I think we'll have a quiz, and I'll put the answers below. Some may seem obvious, but don't be fooled! And Elsie (my dear English friend), you definitely have an unfair advantage, so for that reason alone (though I can think of others), there are no prizes being offered for the most right answers.
Here we go!
1. Cot
2. Mind the gap
3. Give way
4. Diary
5. Stay for tea?
6. Sleeping policeman
7. Take-away
8. Bin
9. White coffee
10. Trolley
11. Polite notice
12. Push chair
13. Ice lolly
14. Jumper
15. Queue
16. Pudding
17. Post
18. Crisps
19. Nappy
20. Dummy
Before we get to the answers, I had to stop and enjoy a fresh scone, hot from the oven with jam and clotted cream. Elsie, exactly what is clotted cream? It seems to be whipping cream that is somehow spreadable. I don't know if it is partially whipped, or whipped with the air pressed out? Whatever it is, it is YUMMY, and Elasti-girl makes the best scones. (And yes, Elsie, I will again be faithful to Weight Watchers upon my return.)
Okay! After that culinary interlude, let's move ahead.
1. Cot = baby crib
2. Mind the gap = Watch your step (as over the gap between the train and the landing)
3. Give way = yield (the yield sign looks the same here, but it says "Give Way" instead)
4. Diary = pocket calendar or PDA ("let me check my diary...")
5. Stay for tea? = Stay for supper? (that one really threw me)
6. Sleeping policeman = speed bump (get it?)
7. Take away = to-go food ("will that be dine-in or take-away?)
8. Bin = here's a clue: you put rubbish in it
9. White coffee = coffee with cream (tea can be white, too)
10. Trolley = grocery cart (or really anything for hauling stuff that has wheels)
11. Polite notice = public notice (we saw several "polite notices" in London near construction sights)
12. Push chair = baby stroller
13. Ice lolly = popcicle
14. Jumper = sweater
15. Queue = line (as in, I always pick the longest queue at the market)
16. Pudding = dessert (any kind - not just pudding)
17. Post = mail
18. Crisps = potato chips
19. Nappy = diaper
20. Dummy = baby pacifier
And one more thing, under NO circumstances EVER, EVER call a fanny pack by its American name. Call it a "bum bag". Because this is a family site, I cannot explain why...you'll just have to take my word for it.
Interestingly, the Incredibles live on what used to be an RAF base, and more recently, a USAF base. This explains why their housing is bigger than standard English housing, which is very nice for them. They had company for over 100 nights last year, so having an extra room has been a blessing.
I thought I'd share today some of the things I've learned since we've been here, particularly in the area of vocabulary. We've really enjoyed picking up some of the local lingo and understanding what people are saying. Let's see...a quiz or a glossary? What would be more fun? I think we'll have a quiz, and I'll put the answers below. Some may seem obvious, but don't be fooled! And Elsie (my dear English friend), you definitely have an unfair advantage, so for that reason alone (though I can think of others), there are no prizes being offered for the most right answers.
Here we go!
1. Cot
2. Mind the gap
3. Give way
4. Diary
5. Stay for tea?
6. Sleeping policeman
7. Take-away
8. Bin
9. White coffee
10. Trolley
11. Polite notice
12. Push chair
13. Ice lolly
14. Jumper
15. Queue
16. Pudding
17. Post
18. Crisps
19. Nappy
20. Dummy
Before we get to the answers, I had to stop and enjoy a fresh scone, hot from the oven with jam and clotted cream. Elsie, exactly what is clotted cream? It seems to be whipping cream that is somehow spreadable. I don't know if it is partially whipped, or whipped with the air pressed out? Whatever it is, it is YUMMY, and Elasti-girl makes the best scones. (And yes, Elsie, I will again be faithful to Weight Watchers upon my return.)
Okay! After that culinary interlude, let's move ahead.
1. Cot = baby crib
2. Mind the gap = Watch your step (as over the gap between the train and the landing)
3. Give way = yield (the yield sign looks the same here, but it says "Give Way" instead)
4. Diary = pocket calendar or PDA ("let me check my diary...")
5. Stay for tea? = Stay for supper? (that one really threw me)
6. Sleeping policeman = speed bump (get it?)
7. Take away = to-go food ("will that be dine-in or take-away?)
8. Bin = here's a clue: you put rubbish in it
9. White coffee = coffee with cream (tea can be white, too)
10. Trolley = grocery cart (or really anything for hauling stuff that has wheels)
11. Polite notice = public notice (we saw several "polite notices" in London near construction sights)
12. Push chair = baby stroller
13. Ice lolly = popcicle
14. Jumper = sweater
15. Queue = line (as in, I always pick the longest queue at the market)
16. Pudding = dessert (any kind - not just pudding)
17. Post = mail
18. Crisps = potato chips
19. Nappy = diaper
20. Dummy = baby pacifier
And one more thing, under NO circumstances EVER, EVER call a fanny pack by its American name. Call it a "bum bag". Because this is a family site, I cannot explain why...you'll just have to take my word for it.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
England! Day 6
Today, we went to a traditional Anglican service at nearby Somerton in a church that was built in the 11th century. There were twelve people there, including us, the pastor and the organist. Apparently, every village has a church (Church of England) no matter who goes or doesn't attend. You'd think after seeing hundreds of buildings that are a thousand years old I'd be over it, but I'm so not. Every single one takes my breath away.
We then went to The Chapel, the church in the Incredibles' village where they work and worship. It is a typical contemporary service with guitars and words projected on the wall and coffee (and tea) off to the side. There were about 35 enthusiastic worshippers and it was a blessing to meet friends and neighbors. Afterwards, we went to lunch at an English restaurant in Banbury that makes a valiant (if not authentic) attempt at American food. I had a balsamic chicken wrap and a *jacket* potato (baked - butter, no sour cream).
And yes, Banbury is the home of the nursery rhyme below, and the statue is in the square to prove it.
We then went to The Chapel, the church in the Incredibles' village where they work and worship. It is a typical contemporary service with guitars and words projected on the wall and coffee (and tea) off to the side. There were about 35 enthusiastic worshippers and it was a blessing to meet friends and neighbors. Afterwards, we went to lunch at an English restaurant in Banbury that makes a valiant (if not authentic) attempt at American food. I had a balsamic chicken wrap and a *jacket* potato (baked - butter, no sour cream).
And yes, Banbury is the home of the nursery rhyme below, and the statue is in the square to prove it.
Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross
To see a fine lady upon a white horse
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
She shall have music wherever she goes
To see a fine lady upon a white horse
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
She shall have music wherever she goes
Finally, off to Tesco Express, England's version of a Super Walmart for groceries and a few odds and ends.
Back home for a quiet afternoon of birthday cake and presents (JackJack and Elasti-girl), including several outdoor adventures. JackJack found a piece of pavement out in the greenspace in front of their house with an X in the middle and announced there was pirate treasure buried beneath. It took some talking to convince him that it was not the best idea to bring out the shovels on the spot and start digging. We also got a miniature basketball stuck in a tree. We tried everything to get it down, including JackJack on my shoulders with a broom trying to knock it out. His parents and grandpa were napping and we didn't want to disturb them, so a nice neighbor boy took pity on us, came out and shimmied up the tree to rescue the ball. Whew. Gigi was running out of great ideas.
Tomorrow, Warwick Castle! And the confession that I have a feeling this parting may be even harder than when they left for England in the first place. This has been a wonderful visit all the way around, and there's nothing like playing with the boys and having them, unprompted, say, "Gigi, I love you."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)