Benched!

I'm benched! Required to sit on the sidelines! Out of the game! And all because of a virus turned bronchitis.

It's especially hard because my kids both had concerts this weekend, and I could not go. Well, I COULD have gone - and shared whatever is causing my fever and cough with the populace. But that would not have been kind. So my husband, as chauffeur and chef in my absence, went and took pictures. Not quite the same...

I'm sitting here feeling grumbly and decided instead to pray and read. And since I am feeling short of breath, decided to look up all of the verses that deal with "breath" or "breathing". Here's a quick synopsis...

BREATH OF GOD
Powerful, creative, and brings life, death and judgment to every human being.

BREATHED HIS LAST
Every time I read this, I stop and think, "and in that next moment, he was in the presence of God Almighty." Yet somehow this does not bring me comfort when I am wheezing and struggling to breathe...

BREATHING
The most frequent reference suggests the ways we humans love making threats or venting anger (under our breath). Humanity is full of angry, vengeful people. I belong to that class of created beings, so don't think I am acting holier than thou. While God has the ultimate power - - we have it too.

I can 'slice and dice' someone's argument under my breath (the most frequent place this happens is listening to a sermon...) but that is the same in God's eyes as if I were doing it out loud. My heart attitude is what needs the cleansing... and my actions need to follow.

A sort of "spiritual antibiotic" to get the bugs out...

From our home to yours...

Deb

Souvenirs of misery

International travel has a way of showing what I really "need" to take along. While I have gotten better and better at packing and consolidating my suitcase, I still don't do a perfect job. Part of the problem is not what I start out with, but what I bring home!

Yup, I'm a good tourist. I bring home LOTS of souvenirs. And as I pack and re-pack, I struggle to fit them all in...

One of my daughters was listening to a song the other day, and the lyrics helped me put some pieces together:

Well, I was doublin' over, the load on my shoulders
Was a weight I carried with me everyday
Crossin' miles of frustrations and rivers a ragin'
Pickin' up stones I found along the way

You see, it isn't what I started with that causes my problems over the long haul. It's what I add to my already full suitcase...

I staggered and I stumbled down
Pathways of trouble
I was haulin' those souvenirs of misery
And with each step taken my back was breakin'
'Til I found the One who took it all from me

Souvenirs of misery... What a great way to describe what I carry along as I stagger through life! The misery itself (the sin, the mistakes) are over and done with, forgiven and forgotten by God. But the 'souvenirs' live on in the consequences of our actions: in broken relationships, hurt feelings, bad memories, or a bad habit that I just can't break so easily.

Through the darkest alleys and loneliest valleys
I was draggin' those heavy chains of doubt and fear
Then with the one Word spoken the locks were broken
Now He's leading me to places
Where there are no tears

Little by little, I'm releasing my hold on the chains of doubt and fear that I've collected in my life. God unlocked the chains years ago, but I seem to insist on carrying them around any way. (No it doesn't make sense... but that just proves I am so very human!) I can say in confidence that when I make it to heaven, to the place "where there are no tears," every one of those chains will be gone.

I really am learning how to be "travelin' light"!

From our home to yours -

Deb

Buildings for God

After a recent trip to England, visiting some of the large and small "buildings for God" (i.e. churches and cathedrals) I had to ponder "what do these buildings mean to the everyday person?"

• Are they monuments to what people believed in the past?
• Are they historical landmarks that make a city or town look quaint, and attract tourists?
• Or, are they centers of empowered worship, vitally portraying the Living Triune God?

I'd like to hope and believe for the last option. But I'm not so sure.

I'm not the only one who has pondered this question. Howard Snyder, in a recent article in Christianity Today, offered his thoughts. He notes that "Jesus-centered" churches can keep their priorities straight between builidngs and ministry, between worship and outreach.

Don't get me wrong! Visiting the cathedrals at York and Canterbury, craning my neck to view the high, lofty and vaulted ceilings, marveling at the construction and artistry in carved wood and stone was a wonderful experience. Worshipping in a church where my immigrant ancestors were once members was also a spiritual highlight. But it all means nothing, in England, or in Maryland, if the people who attend services in these buildings don't take the Word out into the world.

I'm still processing what this means... and how I'll make a difference here in my zipcode...

From our home to yours,
Deb

Weeding

I really don't like weeding, but it is required if I'm going to have a house that, at least on the outside, looks loved and lived in, instead of abandoned and rejected. Right now the weeds are growing faster and stronger than my flowers. My dandelion crop is quite lovely... but that's not what I planned to bloom as perennials in my garden!

There's work to be done to make my front flower garden less of an eyesore to my neighbors and more of a reflection of who lives here.

And there's work to be done in my LIFE to show that the Person of Christ who lives in me is reflected accurately to the world. I'm praying that God will shine through even the dandelions...

From our home to yours,

Deb

Unpacking

It's the end of a weekend retreat. I'm on a spiritual high. There's a lot to catch up on here at home, and lots to think about in terms of what happened during the retreat.

Then there's my luggage. So much to unpack... It is all over the table, the family room floor, in a pile for the laundry, a stack on the steps to go up to our bedroom. I'm in a disorganized state - emotionally and psychologically. I've changed my daily routine today to have time to think, pray and look at all that I learned over the last few days...

Unpacking. We do a lot of it in different ways. Unpacking memories. Unpacking feelings. Unpacking motivations. It's possible to get through life without unpacking, but it can get a little inconvenient. And it's not the way we were meant to live.

Think about living out of a suitcase: you never settle in; you never make things permanent; you aren't committed to a place or time or people. You never feel secure or at home. If you've been on a week long tour, you know what I mean when I say "it gets old FAST!"

How about half unpacking your suitcase and living with the mess: you can't find things; it's disorganized; it isn't hospitable to others you live with. Fortunately, you can get out of this stage with a little hard work.

Then there's the ones who unpack their suitcases immediately, completely and thoroughly. They settle back quickly into their routines. The laundry gets done. The prescription meds and toiletries are where they belong. Life is smoother.

In my mind, these are ways of dealing with events and issues in our lives, too.

Living out of a suitcase: you back out of people's lives; you aren't with any group long enough to form a bond; you move away from permanence. It is easy to bottle up emotions this way. But if you keep 'stuffing the suitcase' of your mind, eventually it will reach its limit, and you'll have a 'suitcase explosion'. Picture that suitcase that self-destructed on its way around the luggage claim area at the airport. Make that your emotional state... not very manageable, is it?

Living with the mess: You have good intentions, but you tend to move on to something before you've really addressed the need at hand. This happens in grieving, especially when people tell you "oh, you just need to stay busy." Well maybe you really need to just flex and change your routine enough so that you 'finish unpacking' what you have to deal with at the time. It takes self-discipline, and an almost unprejudiced eye to say, "I haven't finished dealing with this yet." It means not trying to justify what you haven't dealt with (either because you can't handle it, or you can't figure out what to do.)

Unpacking immediately: This is what a mentor I had called "keeping current in the processing of your emotions." It's doing your emotional laundry when it comes up instead of letting it pile for months at a time. It's being honest with your handling of stress. It's choosing to be loving intead of hurtful in your speech.

Many times for me the 'unpacking' happens as I pray with a desire to see God's heart and attitude towards what has happened in my life. It means being still long enough to hear and respond. (Sometimes I don't hear, and sometimes I hear but don't respond.)

Hebrews 10:22
...let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled (unpacked?) to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water.

It's more than just 'unpacking' - it is staying close to God, with a sprinkled (unpacked?) heart.

Romans 12:9-21
Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with God's people who are in need. Practice hospitality.

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.

Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,”says the Lord. On the contrary: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

I have some more work to do... That's based on the fact that I am typing this instead of getting my suitcase cleaned out. I think it will take me more than today to finish unpacking!

From our home to yours...
Deb

Following the directions

It was NOT rocket science. I only had to follow the directions. But for some reason, this was incredibly hard.

The craft before me was simply to print and iron-on a decal on a tote bag. I was reassured by those who have done this craft that it is not difficult, that you only have to read the directions on the box and then do them.

WELL... I read them, but then decided to take a short cut. And I had to buy another box of iron-ons because they um... didn't work. A second attempt went flawlessly after I was attentive to the detailed instructions. Who'd a-thunk it?

You'd think I'd know by now. Directions are not a subversive plot to drive me nuts! They are there to make things easier, to give me such a positive experience with a product or service that I would GLADLY use them again. But the human, prideful part of me tries to do things my own way.

OK, so maybe you always play by the rules. I'm envious. And maybe a little surprised. But hear me out...

Too many times these days we try to take shortcuts when we think it does not matter, or when no one will see. Many things it does not matter, but on matters of honesty and integrity, in areas of spiritual 'rules' such as the Ten Commandments, it does! The cost in human pain and suffering when you don't follow them is enormous!

Yes - Following directions is always a good idea...

From our home to yours -
Deb

Kindness

Kindness?

Towards this person who is irritating me?

I don't feel it. I don't WANT to feel it. I'm mad at someone, and my first honest response is to nuke. To blame. To yell. To whine.

Unfortunately, I am also called to be a peacemaker. To walk an extra mile. To exhibit kindness as a fruit of the Spirit. Oh yeah, along with gentleness and self control.

Great. Just great.

So, what to do with this anger? This indignation that is welling up inside me? This desire to have MY side of the story heard, to set people straight? This need to justify my actions and reactions?

All of it blows off like so much fluff in the wind when I read in Romans 4:1-4

You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge the other, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things. Now we know that God's judgment against those who do such things is based on truth. So when you, a mere man, pass judgment on them and yet do the same things, do you think you will escape God's judgment? Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, tolerance and patience, not realizing that God's kindness leads you toward repentance?

Setting myself up as a Christian in a public forum means that I get judged, but can not respond in kind. It is very hard not to make my case. The funny thing is, though, the less I defend myself, the nastier the other party appears. I don't look "good" or "holier-than-thou" for not responding. I just look a little less stupid.

That is probably a good thing.

From our home to yours...
Deb

Our children's education

I honestly don't mind my friends who choose to educate their children differently than I do. It is a matter of democracy and personal freedom that we do not have to send our children to a church-run school, a government school or homeschool them. My husband and I choose public school. Sometimes that makes us "odd man out". And I admit that I can get a little defensive.

For instance, someone once assumed that we homeschooled because our children are good students, generally respectful and pleasant to be around. "I can tell your kids are homeschooled," she said. "They are just so nice!"

Once I explained that we did not homeschool, her jaw dropped and she stared at me. "Why would you do that to them?" she gasped. "It will ruin them!"

Before I give the whys and wherefores of why we are using public school, I need to give a caveat: we seriously re-evaluate and pray about where and how our kids will be educated each year. There is no lock on one way or place that they will go to school. This year, for these kids, the decision is made. However, I have to be humble enough to say that God can always change our direction... Having said all that, here goes:

• We choose public education because it most accurately represents the world where our children will grow up, marry and minister. Our grandparents went to one-room schools, or lived in close proximity to extended family. The truth is, this close-knit family model does not exist, by and large, in 21st century America. Our closest family members live more than 400 miles away.


• Our children are being exposed, gradually, to a worldview that does not "jive" with their parents'. In baby steps, they can explore, discuss and get support for standing out as being "different". They are able, at their level, in their terminology, to talk about what they believe.


• We augment the reading material in the classroom with magazines, books and newspapers which present a different viewpoint to the story.


• As parents in Montgomery County, Maryland, we monitor and carefully consider what parts of the curriculum we will allow our children to participate in. (Yes, you DO have a voice and a choice!) For instance, our children do not attend the human sexuality portion of the "Family Life" classes, held in Grades 5-9. We have a companion unit that we do with them instead of or in addition to classwork. And we have requested alternate assignments for literature we find objectionable. It does not make you popular with the faculty, but that was never our intent!


• We show a different kind of lifestyle to parents who use the TV as a babysitter. Our kids don't know the latest commercial jingles (neither do I!) and they have limited time on-line.


• As volunteers, we can help in the classrooms, and pray more accurately for the children and their teachers. We don't go around handing out Bibles. We don't invite them to every event at church. We do our best to parent our children. We listen to and respect the professionals who work with them.

From time to time, I've gotten criticism for choosing "the godless public schools". Realize that there are Christian teachers, parents and children who are continuing to have an influence on the public schools of America. Yes, we Christians could all choose to pull our children from public shcools. And the vast majority of children would then have no Godly influence in their lives...

These kids won't come to church (their parents won't or don't), they don't read Christian literature (not racey enough), they don't listen to Christian radio (not cool), they don't understand much about Christmas and Easter outside of Santa and bunnies (blame mass media for that one!)

These kids are growing up without moral absolutes. They are living in a world like that of Mr. Tumnus, who said that his world was "Always winter and never Christmas; think of that!"

I understand the polluting effect of modern culture on a person's attitudes and actions. I hear it and see it every day. We all do. (If you are not watching TV or reading secular newspapers, just take a gander at the tabloids where you buy your groceries! Why do you think they publish what they do?? Because people love to read it!)

And as Christians pull away from the public education arena, the rest of the members of our society are hearing less and less of our worldview. Doesn't that strike you as just a little sad?

Are there other options for educating our girls? Possibly. This year, this time, we have chosen public schools. Next year, next time? That's in God's Hands.

From our home to yours-
Deb

Break it down

"I can't do this!!" I heard my daughter wailing from the next
room. "It's too hard!"

A quick trip to the piano revealed the problem. Her new music was complicated enough that she could not just sight-read it any more.

"Break it down, honey," I said. "Take little parts at a time, one
hand at a time."

She had to slowly work on one hand, then the other, until she could put it together. It was actually a good sign that she was progressing and playing harder music, but she didn't see it that way.

We worked out a new way to practice, which, to her disgust, took more time and repetitions than previous practice sessions. Over the course of a week, she was able to master the new music, but with great effort and tenacity on her part.

I began to ponder how I struggle in similar ways when I face new and difficult changes. I don't want to 'break it down'. I just want to DO. I don't want to practice or try again. I want to get it right 'the first time'. Or I don't want to do the same thing day after day. I get bored with the basics. In piano, it's scales, arpeggios and warm-up exercises. In my spiritual life, it's prayer, Bible study, Scripture memory, and self-discipline.

Sigh...

Yup. Time to break it down again...

From our home to yours,
Deb

Just a Cat??...

I suppose you might say he was 'just a cat'. But my family would argue and say, no, he was much, much more.

For starters, how many cats are given multiple monikers?
Clyde Arthur Beldin Stripey-Pants Bristle-Whiskers Rumble-Purr Ring-Tailed-Rabble-Rouser Vaughn
He earned every single one.

Clyde was a reformed barn cat. He was rescued by a friend, tested and doctored, and came to live with us in September 2002. Though he was scarred with a flattened ear from injury and a broken tooth, he was a gentle, affectionate rascal. He delighted in chasing the 'girlie cats' around the house, in giving 'in-your-face' greetings complete with full chin rubs, and in sleeping with his humans, softly purring beside his chosen bed partner. He had a rasp of a tongue and would frequently 'groom' the hand or cheek of the human next to him.

What happened? The short answer is: we don't know.

He developed a paralysis, which, over a course of 8 hours, left him without either a yowl or a purr in the end. I held him in the vet's office, as he was unresponsive to painful stimuli, noting the occasional frantic spasming of his legs. He died in my arms, his fur dampened by my tears.

Our other 2 cats show no signs of illness. (yet) He had been sneezing for a few days, with some vigor. But in all other respects he was normal: affectionate, romping, playing, snoozing in his favorite spots. By Tuesday morning however, he was not interested in the daily 'cat snack' we hand out each morning and hid to sleep in an unusual place (a sure sign in our cat language of a sick cat).

A first trip to the vet showed him to have a fever. He was rehydrated, given antibiotics, showed normal lab results, and by late afternoon, had enough 'tude back to complain when we went home. But by midnight, he was having trouble walking.

A second trip to the Vet ER at 1 a.m. Wednesday morning left us more puzzled: normal x-rays. Maybe it was a med reaction? They gave him some valium to calm him down and told us to stop the meds from the first vet, and that he would probably be better by morning. He steadily worsened in the night and only calmed down when I let him burrow under my arms. I dozed on the floor beside him as he frantically scrabbled around and cried. Surely the drug would wear off? And he would be better?

By 5 a.m. Wednesday morning, it was obvious he was worse: his hind legs were paralyzed. My husband and I made a decision: an early a.m. visit to the vet, who opened at 7 am. It looked like he was dying. The girls were awakened to cuddle and care for him while I showered and tried to be awake enough to drive with no sleep. They petted him and cried. He purred softly and sporadically. We wrapped our arms around each other, cuddled him and cried some more as we prayed... for healing if it were meant to be, for no pain and a gentle end if it was not. No anger at God, just sadness.

By 8 a.m. that morning, he had no control of front or back legs. He was occasionally clawing my shoulder, but mostly wanted to be held upright against my chest. The vet tech started an IV just to give him comfort measures since he was panting and unable to drink. By 9:00 he had no response to painful stimuli. He was in a coma. It was time to let the suffering cease. Less than 24 hours after his first vet visit, on December 22, 2004 our beloved Clyde-Boy went to Cat Heaven. Everyone cried at the news: my husband, mother-in-law, kids, friends... and our vets were stunned.

Late that morning, my daughters and I were looking up at the bright, blue, cold December sky after I had brought his still form home from the vet. We watched the clouds and comtrails. Several comtrails had puffs at the end of them. One of the girls looked up and said, "HEY! Clyde is chasing a string in heaven!" The other one said, "yeah, and there's his mousie tied to the end of it." We laughed, we cried, and we each thanked God for the wonderful gift of His Creation. More tears, gentle in their cleansing...

Our whole family has cried in the days since he died. We have missed his talkativeness, his purrs, the softness of his fur and the gentle way he would love on us...

And please, DON'T email me and say, "oh good grief, it's just a cat." Because if Jesus cared about sparrows falling and knows the number of hairs on your head, He certainly made way in heaven for a reformed barn cat named Clyde that morning... He is not in pain now. He has a limitless supply of catnip, and in time, we will smile instead of cry when we think about him...

From our home to yours,
Deb




Clyde Arthur Beldin Stripey-Pants Bristle-Whiskers Rumble-Purr Ring-Tailed-Rabble-Rouser Vaughn