Lean Not

I clearly remember the day this was handed to me by chubby, sticky fingers on a Sunday morning about 24 years ago. Sunday School fingers were always sticky from rice krispie treats and glue. "Pick off the Elmerts, Mom. My fingers feel funny." This little one was always creeped out by his fingers feeling funny - he even got the heebie-jeebies when I trimmed his nails.

"I made this for you, Mom," he said as he proudly reached up and handed it to me.

I loved it instantly. Proverbs 3:5 has always been one of my favorite scriptures, and now it was etched in my heart forever, conjuring up memories of ice-blue eyes and perfectly parted and combed platinum hair.

The overlapping red hearts are now faded to a light rose color. For a few months this had its place on the fridge, but as the artwork got rotated and things were moved to storage bins, I couldn't put this one away just yet.

I moved it to a place I would see it often. Three small children allowed me to frequent the laundry room several times a day (some days I actually went there to do laundry and not just hide), so the appropriate place seemed to be next to the detergent shelf where the stray GI Joes and Barbie shoes were safe after being rescued from little pockets.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart."

Throughout the pre-pubescent years, the unending laundering of athletic gear, and loads of "boat towels," this verse washed me clean with every visit to the Maytag.

By the time we built our home and moved 13 years ago, those fingers had morphed from chubby and sticky to adolescent gnawed nails that could palm a basketball. And testosterone-laced rebellion and pride had reared its ugly head. The verse had found a new home above the door of our bedroom closet, and I still read it every day as I get dressed and grab my shoes.

Every day.

I don't remember what the argument was about, but no doubt I had given a firm "No" to a request to do something that "everyone else was doing," And thinking in my head that I was not going to use the "if everyone else jumped off a cliff...." line like my own mother had used. But I probably did.

And he was furious. After storming through the house and taking down all the pictures I had displayed of him, he went into my closet and ripped the gift of Proverbs off the wall - and out of my heart.

I groveled. I begged. No matter what, I needed that verse. "Do with the pictures what you will, but I want that verse. I'm begging you."

He relented. I got the verse, though a quarter of it had been torn off in the ruckus. I remember sitting in the closet crying my eyes out, taping it together, and for a couple of days I hid it in my underwear drawer.

All precious things are safe among the granny panties, aren't they?

A few days later, it took up residence again in its proper spot in our closet, taped securely to the wall. It has been there ever since.

Last Thursday, I opened the closet to find the verse had fallen off the wall and landed stuck between the hangers of my pants. Not thinking too much about it, I stuck it back to the wall, noting that even in a closet, old construction paper continues to fade.

The words do not.

Friday, I opened the closet door and it fell down again. As I tried to catch it, it floated out the door onto the dresser, propelled by a vigorous ceiling fan. I took the Fun-Tak off the wall, re-molded it in my fingers, and firmly replaced it.

Yesterday, after a fitful, discontinuous 1 1/2 hours of Friday night sleep, I opened the closet door to grab a pair of socks, and the verse had dropped off the wall again. This time it landed on the top of my sock box.

Of course. God likes to get our attention that way.

Once again, I replaced it. Scotch tape this time.

This morning, I opened the closet to grab clothes for church. My first step was smack in the middle of the dry, cracked construction paper.

OK, Lord, I'm listening!!

He is painfully aware I haven't been listening enough. There are no accidents.

I replaced it this time with electrical tape firmly taped in circles on the back. I could care less what residue and gunk is left on the wall. Next time I may have to use duct tape.

Like that would make a difference when He wants to get His point across.

⁵ Trust in the LORD with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;

⁶ in all your ways submit to him,
and he will make your paths straight.

⁷ Do not be wise in your own eyes;
fear the LORD and shun evil.

⁸ This will bring health to your body
and nourishment to your bones.

Final Goodbye

Coach Thomas praying with his team before the West Marshall game 2008 - the first game after an EF-5 tornado destroyed much of Parkersburg a year ago, including the high school and Coach's home.

Today our community said goodbye to Coach Thomas. Not just our community - friends, former students, and former athletes from all over the country. College coaches. Local farmers. A US Senator and our Governor. The tiny town of Parkersburg, Iowa was transformed into a grieving sea of people from all walks of life.

Ron Burgundy, Rick Coleman, and I stood in line for 3 1/2 hours last night to pay our respects to the family. The visitation was supposed to be from 3:30 to 8. We went at 7:00 and the line snaked through the tiny town of P'burg. Around 8:15 a friend of the family wandered to the end of the line and said "The family will stay until you have all been through. They want to speak to each of you." We got home at 11:45 pm.

The Thomas family literally held up every one of those mourners as they went through the line. Only God could give them that strength.

We're talking thousands of people here, folks. People from every walk of life. People from every demographic. People of every race, creed, and color. Those are the people Ed touched. Most of them were not football players.

While we waited in line, we saw old friends and shared funny stories. It was impressive to see the players who played for Coach and are now in the NFL come back to honor him as pall bearers. The chatter became more somber as we neared the church, and the sight as we entered was breathtaking. Flowers, plants, photographs, and memorabilia everywhere. Coach's life flashing in front of our eyes.

As we stood by the casket, the largest of two strong, burly, kick-boxing men I was with was reduced to tears. Sobbing, shoulder-shaking tears. I always carry Kleenex, and Rick didn't have his man-bag.

Ed's wife hugged my two companions who had been a part of Ed's life like she would never let them go. Like she couldn't let them go. Their lives had been intertwined for many years. The church is quite small, and only family and close friends were given invitations to sit in the church for the funeral. The family asked Ron and Rick to be among them. The overflow would be in the community center and available via video feed.

Not wanting to take seats away from family, these two humble men hemmed and hawed, but the family insisted.

As we walked the 6 blocks back to the car, Ronnie said to me "I don't think I've ever been so honored by anything in my life." That's saying a lot. After all, this guy has a key to the city and had a street named after him, among other things. All of those things paled in comparison.

Because this honor was all about relationships. And love. And God.

And a relationship with a loving God.

They had that in common more than anything.

At the service today, Ed's eldest son said "You can be sad the rest of the day, but come tomorrow, once you wake up, it’s time to get going ... There’s a lot of work to be done in this town.” That's what his dad would have wanted him to say.

You can read more stores and memories about Coach here.

I still don't understand, but after listening to Pete Wilson's final "Q" series tonight, I was l left refreshed by a couple of Pete's comments:

"There are simply some questions that don't have answers."

"Sometimes I think that the most powerful learning that we have in our lives doesn't come from the answers; it comes from the pursuit of the question."

"It's possible I may not get answers to some of my questions this side of heaven."

Ron put together his final tribute to Coach Thomas tonight. You owe it to yourself to watch.

Now let's get going. Coach would want us to.

Tea tonight: green with acai

I Just Don't Understand

This little blog post will go buried in the searches on ESPN.com, CNN.com, and FoxNews.com, but I'm feeling a need to let my own heart grieve through my keyboard.

A year ago I posted here and here about a small town just a few miles from us that suffered devastating loss of life and possessions from an F-5 tornado. There were so many hurting people, and the Cedar Valley rallied around them in support.

In the midst of the rebuilding, the local football coach showed his exquisite leadership as he led his team in the reconstruction, vowing to have the football field ready for the first home game, despite the fact his own home and the school had been leveled. Football has been the cornerstone of this small Iowa town, and what better way to acknowledge recovery than to have their champion team back on the field, fondly known as the "Sacred Acre," with the entire town in the stands on that September Friday night celebrating their survival of a natural disaster.

Today, Coach Ed Thomas was shot and killed by one of his former players.

This man was a legendary football coach, the 2005 NFL High School Coach of the Year, he shepherded 4 players who currently play the NFL, and was above all, a man of God. A deacon in his church and a mentor to thousands over his 34 years of coaching and teaching in Parkersburg, his goal was to make sure his students and athletes were the best young men and women they could be.

It was well known that his priorities were
1. Faith
2. Family
3. Football

He never put those in any other order.

I knew Coach Thomas as "the formidable opposition" when my boys played football. When I took the leap to be a high school tennis coach, he was an encouraging and inspiring teacher in my coaching certification class. Coaching and mentoring young people was his passion. But he was an inspiration to this non-traditional student as well.

Tonight my heart aches in so many directions. Like my daughter told me tonight, God knew this was the plan long before it happened. I know I will find more comfort in those words as time passes.

The father of the young man who shot Coach T serves as a deacon in the same church as Coach and is a friend of the family. He played on Coach's first football team in Parkersburg in 1975. The accused's younger brother is a senior on the A-P football team this fall. Coach and the shooter's father often prayed together for the life of turmoil this young man was leading. The collateral damage of this troubled young man's actions is unmeasurable - the ripples go far beyond this small Iowa town of 3,000 and extend across our nation because of the number of lives he has touched over the years.

In a news conference today, Coach Thomas' son Aaron so eloquently asked for prayer for his family, as well as a request to keep the shooter's family in our prayers. And Ron Burgundy put his whole heart into this tribute to Coach Thomas.

I just don't understand. But I have faith that someday I will. Tonight I will wrestle with either Jerry Bridges or Harold Kushner as I try to put some perspective on this.

But for now, I just don't understand. And I think God's OK with that, because it literally brings me to my knees - again.

Praying on Wheels

It was one of those days - I felt like I was the complaint department, a procrastinator, and a whipping post, all rolled into one. I started out the day with a delightful to-do list, and by 5:00, a half-hour after alleged quitting time, I multitasked quickly, eating my leftover yogurt, berries, and granola leftover from lunch at my desk. And stared blankly at the list with not one thing crossed off.

I apparently got paid to work a day for which I had nothing to show except a few satisfied people. So in reality, I worked with all my heart. It had to be good enough, because I could work no longer.

I needed a bike ride - badly. Quiet time, away from my phone, my computer, and out in the beautiful sun that kept peeking through the window of the exercise lab while all the patients moaned "how dad-gum hot it is out there."

Grabbing my stuff, I hopped in my car. This was going to be one cool ride. Surely a bike ride would be better than the first 10 minutes in a car that was probably 120 degrees, because this is what my thermometer said it was like outside. It was only a few months ago that same thermometer read -21 degrees! For certain, I had not had enough water yet today.

I hit the bike trail and listened to Louie Giglio, then Fee, then a little Andy Stanley. And I rode up to my favorite place, the labyrinth. I love walking through there and praying, and recalled how many times I've done that in the past few years, and trying to recall what was weighing on my heart at the time. Whatever it was, it had passed.

It was usually one of the kids. It's always at least one of the kids. Because you never stop worrying about them and you pray for them incessantly.

Other than the rocks in my bike sandals, it's such a peaceful place to be. One foot in front of the other.

Time escaped me, as it often does when I'm lost in prayer, song, and scripture lessons. I headed back a little later than I had intended. The darkness doesn't scare me, but an empty water bottle and feeling like I had a blood sugar of about 30 does. My yogurt wasn't sticking to my ribs much at this point. And yes, it was very, very HOT.

I pulled into our neighborhood weak, tired, dehydrated, but feeling much more peaceful than when I left home. Sometimes I pray very hard for people in my life to see things the way I think that God wants them to see. Or maybe for them to just view circumstances with another set of eyes. To have faith in God's vision for their lives rather than their own vision. To let go of the plans they have and to submit to His plan. And in the process to stop and thank Him for a sunset that you might have missed if you hadn't been paying attention.

How many sunsets have you missed without paying attention to them? He painted them just for you, you know.

Tea tonight: are you kidding me?? Water, water, banana, shower, and bed! No tea for me!

Click to pray

Tea today: Young hyson

Little Girl. Pink Shirt. Big Tears.

Today in church the Sunday School kids got up to sing a song - "We Want to See Jesus Lifted High" with all the arm motions and the whole nine yards. The usual suspects were there. The shy ones, the talented performers who you know will be performing long into their adult years, and the ones who are craving attention and exaggerating all the movements. Not looking too cool, but making some great footage for the graduation highlight reel. The kind you know will need to be peeled off the wall the rest of the afternoon.

And then there was the little girl in pink.

I never saw her face. She was in the front row, right beside the hyper kid in the Bears fleece vest who definitely got all the chuckles from the congregation.

But she stood there, her head looking straight down at her tennis-shoed toes and her hands in her tiny pockets and her silky blond hair falling covering any facial expression that might reveal her heart. And she didn't move a muscle the entire song.

After the song she slowly moved down the steps, slower than anyone else in the group, and she wiped obvious tears from her eyes, head still down.

My heart just ached. I couldn't help but wonder what had happened in the few minutes before an obviously well-rehearsed performance that would make her feel so seemingly invisible. It was almost like she didn't think we could see her because she wasn't looking at us. Like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. Like perhaps, it already had.

After the song, the kids gathered for the children's sermon and she had her back to pastor, continuing to dry her tears with her little pink shirt. I had all I could do to not run down there from my perch in the balcony and whisk her in my arms, stroke her hair, and tell her how much He loves her. To tell her that nothing will separate her from His love. To tell her that yes, everything will turn out all right.

But obviously her parent(s) were somewhere in the congregation - she didn't get there by herself, and it certainly wouldn't be appropriate to do anything at that point, because perhaps her mother was thinking the same thing. I just prayed that she had a loving embrace waiting for her.

I looked for her after church and never found her. I wanted to tell her how pretty she is and how much Jesus loves her. That she can be a princess or a ballerina or anything she wants to be. But I never saw her again.

My heart still breaks that little hearts break and don't understand why.

I left church praying that the rest of her day goes better and that she feels some comforting arms around her.

We have all at one time been that little girl in pink.

I hope the next time I see her, her eyes are focused upward.

Will you pray for her with me?

Tea today: Republic of Tea Beginners Mind

Join the Wagie Ride for Tuesday

Today, at 11:00 a.m., family and friends are gathering in Parker, Colorado, to celebrate Tuesday Whitt with a "wagie ride" parade.We want them to know that the celebration is not only in Parker. It's in California and Texas. In Ohio and Michigan. In Illinois and New York. In Canada and South Africa. Right here in Iowa. And in even more places than I can name. Please join us in a "wagie ride," a sled pull, a spin on your bike or a Saturday drive. Keep Tuesday in your heart today. Keep her family and friends in your prayers. Write a story. Take pictures. Create a post. Link up to Mr. Linky here. We love Tuesday!

Tea at this moment: Jasmine

I Loved Them Enough, But Did I Love Them Right??

One of my IVL friends posted the question on her blog the other day, asking if we (the blogosphere) have any regrets. My first impulse was to say "Who, me? What in the world could I possibly regret?" Then this little voice in my head (or was it the voice in my little head?) said "Shut up and don't answer, or you'll hog the entire comments section..."

Teach your children well...

My kids are all smart in very different ways. There's tremendous some common sense, enviable some critical thinking skills, good great writing talent, and great above average analytical thinking. None were fiscally prudent as teens and young adults, but then, they didn't exactly have Warren Buffet as a mentor.

They were blessed with SuckerMom. You want it? You got it. Because I love you.

I'm proud that they have grown up to be kind, respectful, and loving, but not always to each other. They're siblings.

In other words, they are human. Beautifully, wonderfully, perfectly, and yes, sinfully human. Born in His image, made to seek Him, and still searching for the answers to life.

I often wonder why I didn't teach my offspring to deal with disappointment with a little more grace and acceptance and as a routine part of life. How to tough out the disasters and heartbreak life hurls at you. To "find the glory in suffering." To recognize that God will not keep them in the darkness, yet He never promised them a perfectly happy life either - on earth, at least.

I probably wouldn't have listened to this advice had it been given to me at the right time. I commented to a blog friend today, I want some "do-overs." The consequences for not getting it right the first time are very heavy today.

But if I had it to do over again, I wouldn't make it quite so easy for them. As a matter of fact, I would have made them darned close to miserable.

A bit poorer. A little more tired. And a lot hungrier.

Rather than doing the paper route myself and allow a teenager to sleep in because I loved him so much, I would drag his sorry butt out of bed...because I loved him so much.

Rather than not make a careless, unapologetic teenager pay to fix the dented garage door frame because I loved him so much, I would make him work his skinny tushy off and figure out how to get that door frame fixed...because I loved him so much.

Rather than offering a mall shopping trip (lunch included) to a sobbing teen rejected by friends because I loved her so much, I would talk it out, let her cry it out, and show her how to suck it up...because I loved her so much.

Life stinks sometimes. It throws us curve balls, fast balls, and we get beaned by foul balls. It breaks hearts, spirits, and wills. But God will never leave us where we are - He is only asking us to perservere because He has so many wonderful plans for us, and He wants us to feverishly seek Him in order to fulfill those plans. Sometimes He will bring us to our knees, sometimes flat on our faces, sometimes even drag us through the mud - just to get our attention. He doesn't care if we come to Him angry, questioning, and untrusting - He just wants us to come to Him, and beg for His mercy. Because any relationship with Him is the start to a wonderful relationship with Him. And He has such wonderful plans for that relationship.

It's a tough lesson to learn as an adult, but it's never too late to learn.

I asked for riches that I might be happy; I was given poverty that I might be wise.

I asked for all things that I might enjoy life; I was given life that l might enjoy all things.

I was given nothing that I asked for; But everything that I had hoped for.

Tea today: Young hyson

Calling All Prayer Warriors

A dear friend is having a big surgery tomorrow. Please pray for peace, pain control, and a positive outcome. Many tears have been shed with her, over her, and in prayer for her. She is in God's hands.

Tea tonight: Young hyson

Shaken Faith

I'd like to think that if when something horrible happens to me, my trust and faith will always remain Heavenward. In the few times in my life when I have felt emotionally distraught, perhaps even end-of-my-ropish, I can honestly say I never felt like my Father abandoned me. Others maybe, but not Him.

In difficult, testing times, I asked begged for His help. There may have been some "Why's and even a few "Why me's," but I never felt like He was leaving me to endure on my own.

Quite the opposite - I felt like He was at my side. And we talked. One of my readings today so aptly said "God has the ability to sustain us in the wilderness." Oh. Yeah.

My heart aches right now for a friend who was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. She has been told "if you're going to have it, this is the kind to have," though she's also looking at surgery, chemo, and radiation in her future. Not good news, but not hopeless, either.

And she is a mess. A broken, distraught mess. She wonders where God is in all of this. She thought this was the last thing that could ever happen to her. She's asking "Why me?" She has lost control. (Dare I tell her she never had control)? The plan for her care is up in the air. And she feels no peace, or at least that's what she has articulated to those of us to whom she has confided.

She is lost. Utterly. Completely. Lost.

And that's what breaks my heart - not the cancer.

It seems to me she believes that cancer has a more treatment options than a shaken faith does. But the reality is, the cure for that lost faith is simple and right at our fingertips - at the foot of the cross, in His Word, ready to be placed in our hearts. Firmly. Radically. Sustainably.

So what is a friend to do? What are the words to say? Or must she work through this grief in her own way, her own time, with the little shaken faith she has left? We have talked about God's grace. About God's plans and purpose. About God's answers to our prayers.

Yes, No, Not Yet.

But she feels let-down and failed. Like her faith wasn't strong enough. She feels weak. Like she did something wrong. And now it's too late, in her eyes. Oh, how I long for her to find Him in all of this, rather than push Him away.

I understand well the steps in the grieving process and know that sometimes He brings us to our knees so that the only thing we can do is look up. I pray that her courage, strength, and faith will return with a vengeance to heal this broken heart. And the cancer? We will pray for that, too, knowing God's got her. He doesn't like cancer any more than the rest of us.

I've had many friends and family diagnosed with cancer; some are healed at Home, others are well and cancer-free and living life to the fullest, including my 83 year old mother. I never look at cancer as a surprise anymore - it has been all too common both in my family and in our society. I'm grateful and frankly amazed at the strides in cancer care over the last decade. The God-given wisdom of physicians, the loving care of nurses, the healing power of faith, food, and prayer, and the knowledge that abounds for all to know and use.

Please lift my friend up in prayer for faith, courage, and strength. Let's band together so she sees clearly that the Great Physician will heal her for eternity in spirit and body, and give her hope.

And lest this sound a bit righteous, and like I have it all together, I pray I don't eat my own words someday.


Tea today: Jasmine

Bustin' out on a Saturday night

What kind of woman with a dead cell phone and a sick dog goes out into the minus 21 degree wind chill facing 2-3 ft drifts to drive 6 miles to church on a Saturday night alone?

A woman with her tree decorated.

A desperate woman with a really big truck.

A drift-bustin' truck.

And in the silence of prayer, in the midst of an beautiful sermon about "listening" and a handful of church-goers...

there was a really loud God.

Tea tonight: Chinese flower

The Ultimate Thanksgiving Post

***UPDATE***

Angie has removed the post I referred to below. Suffice it to say it was beautiful, poignant, and heartfelt. That being said, her challenge was for us to give thanks for something in our life that we really aren't too happy to have, as God has commanded us to be thankful in all things. The link below will now take you to Angie's main blog page.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was all going through my mind this morning as I awoke in the dark. Deep, cold dark. I wanted to write an awesome Thanksgiving post about all the things in my life that I am grateful to God for giving me. Because I am so very grateful. Ron Burgundy. Kids. Home. Job. God's grace.

I grabbed my laptop, but made the mistake of going to my feed reader first.

Oh. My.
Blow.
Me.
Away.

I could never do a Thanksgiving post that says it better than this. Thank you, Angie, for humbling yourself, for allowing us to see our true selves, and for blessing us with your exquisite writing. Your pain has brought us gain in God's grace. I pray you're feeling Him with you today.

And I accept your Thanksgiving challenge. With gratitude.

"The test of thankfulness is not what you have to be thankful for, but whether anyone else has reason to be thankful that you are here."

Tea today: Snow Water Green Cloud

Baby Tears

I cried twice today.

Every mother's prayer. Babies. Her babies. Those seemingly perfect-in-every way babies that grow up to be imperfect human beings who need each other and learn the hard way how much they need the Lord. So what was so sad about this beautiful picture I've put in your mind?

I didn't say I was sad. I merely said I was crying.

I held a baby boy this evening, almost 16 weeks old. Peach-fuzz-baby-smelling head. Chipmunk cheeks. He fussed, then I did the baby sway with him (I haven't forgotten how because I still do it in church with no baby in my arms). He fell asleep on my shoulder, so I sagged my weary back into the couch and this onesied-bundle did the baby-wriggle-gonna-nestle-up-real-close-heavy-sigh REM sleep thing on my chest. And as I covered him with his blanket, I cried. It was a moment that took me back 31 years and that overwhelming feeling of baby passion just overtook me. Sometimes it doesn't even matter whose baby it is.

And then.

I went to see the unveiling of the engagement pictures of my eldest baby and his beautiful fiance. Fresh faces. Brilliant leaves. Autumn sunshine. Adoring smiles. Sappy (albeit tear-jerking) music background.

I cried again.

I cried out of gratitude for three healthy grown babies and a soon-to-be daughter-in-law. I cried out of angst for days gone by. I cried over mistakes I've made and things left undone that may or may not have changed anything at all. The embrace of His grace now brings me peace in my exhaustion and I'm ready to fall into that snuggly sleep just like those babies used to. Without the onesie.

But just one more time, I think I'll cry.

Three times today.

Tea tonight: Numi Monkey King

This may be significant - or not so much....

Bad picture (cell phone) of a beautiful berry-laden tree I parked my car under today. I sat there listening to "Bring the Rain" on my iPod and stared at it for at least 10 minutes before I went in for an appointment. I'm not sure why, but it really caught my heart, my brain, my wonder. I sat under it for a few minutes on the way out, too - I have no idea why.

Tea tonight: Spring Cherry Beginner's Mind

Blessed Are They ....

...who do not see and yet believe! But this is seeing and believing! Oh joy, what a miracle God has done once again.

Tea today: Harney & Sons green with citrus

Not Just Any Old Dog - MY Dog

I am in awe of dogs blogging. Yeah, they really do. And they do a woof woof job of it, too. Ever since Lucky signed up for Doggyspace and joined the Puppy Prayer Chain group, my email has been flooded with good wishes for us. Dog owners are so special. Dogs are so special. There are thousands of poems written about family dogs and their demise. Lucky's still with us and has good and bad days, but he's become more "clingy" and I'm fearing he's starting to tell me things I really am not ready to hear. I will continue to listen attentively.

The Last Battle
If it should be that I grow frail and weak

And pain should keep me from my sleep,

Then will you do what must be done,

For this -- the last battle -- can't be won.

You will be sad I understand,

But don't let grief then stay your hand,

For on this day, more than the rest,

Your love and friendship must stand the test.

We have had so many happy years,

You wouldn't want me to suffer so.

When the time comes,

please, let me go.

Take me to where to my needs they'll tend,
Only, stay with me till the end
And hold me firm and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.

I know in time you will agree

It is a kindness you do to me.

Although my tail its last has waved,

From pain and suffering I have been saved.

Don't grieve that it must be you

Who has to decide this thing to do;

We've been so close -- we two -- these years,

Don't let your heart hold any tears.

~ Unknown

Tea tonight: Jasmine

Guilty Heartache?

I was feeling pretty much on top of the world after the marathon weekend, finally shaking the lingering flu, watching my KT accomplish a goal that at one time not only seemed impossible, but more importantly that she really had no penchant to do. Oh, how time and God's hand changes hearts and minds! I watched my "aging" (I say that loosely) Ron Burgundy complete his 10th marathon - he called me four times and even texted our youngest son during the race! I didn't see any of the elite athletes with their BlackBerries during the race, which may in part explain why they finished 3+ hours ahead of him. (That, and they train 210 miles a week, are 40 lb lighter, 35 years younger...)

So during this rare day off, I was catching up on my feed reader, and read Angie's post for today, recognizing tomorrow as National Day of Remembrance for pregnancy and infant loss. Some of the comments left on her post are simply cutting to my very core. Is it right for me to feel so good when others are so deeply hurting? Why does God dole out such pain to some and not others? Does He truly need to put so many of us "in our place" in order to get His job done? I know many people who have been brought to their knees finding God and praying for the very first time because of tragedy - is that what it really takes for some? Apparently He knows better than I, and I certainly know that He's given me some pretty grave reasons to seek Him. He also knows it takes very little to bring myself to Him in prayer - good or bad. He takes us on journeys we can only understand through faith. And that's what sometimes makes pain a beautiful thing. He knows the plan, because He wrote the plan.

I'd like to think everyone would reach out to God on a glorious sunny day in Chicago after a victory, just as easily and eagerly as they do during those rock-bottom, heart-breaking times.

Through it all, He is always the same. He has proven that over and over again.

Tea tonight: Tazo Green with Ginger

Prayers Please

Looking for some answered prayers - Lucky is having some surgery tomorrow. Why do I say "answered?" He always answers.

Yes....No.....Not Yet

Which will it be?

Tea today: green with lemongrass

Catch Phrases for my heart and soul

For the last many weeks I've driven two hours a day to work and back. Not my choice but a responsibility that is partly self-imposed, but mostly done out of commitment to a job I'm paid to do. It has been draining - emotionally and physically it is taking its toll. But it's become a way of life. This picture is from my cell phone driving into the beautiful sunrise today. I've become quite enamored with podcasts from my very favorite pastors, only two of whom I have actually met. But I feel like I know each one of them up close and personal because I've literally gone back since the inception of each of their podcasts to listen to these. Yes, that's how much I drive. Not much time for some of you, but for someone who must squeeze every minute of productivity out of every hour of the day, while feigning off sleep all the way, it is two precious hours each day I don't feel I can afford to lose. But it has become the best part of my day.

There are themes. There are sermon series. And then there are the unique little "catch phrases" that each pastor uses that makes him so endearing. They probably don't even realize they're doing it - it's just their personality and God shining through their voices. It's fun to see how they have emerged over the years, grown in their communication and delivery style, and in each of them, have spoken so relevantly to my life. Here are some of my favorites.

Pastor John Fuller (Prairie Lakes Church): "Here's what....I ...knaoow...." (yep, that's just what it sounds like, and with a subsequent pause, it really makes you sit up and listen - and really, really believe. Love it!) and "Let's go to the Word...." That's my favorite. "Let's be Jesus with skin on." But I can't leave out "Step over the faith line..."

Pastor Justin Wise (Immersion/Lutheran Church of Hope): "This is huge...." & "This just Blows. My. Mind..." (Yeah, he actually talks like the punctuation is in there. Very effective.) & "Context is King!" This young whippersnapper is "wise" beyond his years, yet maintains his GenX/Y credibility while enlightening us boomers. He craves Jesus. His mind is always churning deeply, and he is very well prepared for his sermons on a level that is so relevant not only to the 20s and 30s in Immersion, but to their parents! Relevancy. What a concept. Sometimes his sermons are so perfect for me or my family during a particular need, I refer to him as "Justin Time." Whoa.

Pastor Mike Householder (Lutheran Church of Hope): "God is on the move...." & "Praise God for that..." Coupled with his personal stories, quick wit, and obvious passion for his congregation, it's not hard to see why this will be my church should I ever have the opportunity to live in Des Moines.

Pastor Richard Webb: (Lutheran Church of Hope): "Let's pray" (I can't do this one justice because words can't express the inflection or the timing in there, but it is spontaneous, very quickly and softly spoken, and seems to come most unexpectedly...out of nowhere. It's like an instant piece of peace. No other "catch phrase" from him as no two of his sermons are alike, and he uses really cool big words that just roll out of his mouth (along with that inflection and timing gift), and I'm telling you, this guy is smart. As in ::genius:: smart. A brilliant theologian who can pull the stories out of the Bible at will and tell them with drama and flair. He also remind us, now and then, that "God is not your housepet."

Pastor Tommy Sparger (North Point Church): "...and I believe this...I really do..." Perhaps it's that Texas twang, the folksy delivery, or if you're watching the video, the pity for the video dude who must constantly try to keep this cute little man of God within the viewfinder as he sprints across the stage. He's really a Holy Hoot. "Now...here's the dill" (in Iowa we say "deal"). And at the end he recognizes new believers with "...will you raise your hand so I know who you are. I want to pray for you..." Though I'm not a "new" believer, I would raise my hand so Tommy would look right at me and pray for me. God knows I need it.

Pastor Craig Groeschel (LifeChurch.tv): "Lift your hands up now, lift them high..." He does this recognizing new believers at the end of his sermons. Again, I'd be one raising my hands. I could really get into that one. He gets deep into my head, is extremely creative, and the pre-sermon videos are amazing.

The thing these guys all have in common is their humility, their love of Christ, and their shared times of shaken faith. They are admitted sinners (what? them too? is the world full of them?) and have fallen short. And they give illustrations in their sermons that bring us all down to earth, yet give me cause for pause to admire them. Better yet, they empower me to look more closely and where I am in my life and why that's ok. Because it's where God put me. Yet these "church dudes" are all so different from one another. What a party it would be to have them all together. With Lutheran jello. I praise God for them.

I have grown so strong in my faith because of these gifted people that even during a sheerly exhausting, refrigerator-dying, patient-crumping, car-clunking, sick dog meltdown, they push me toward Him. And He carries me. And He is really the only one who cares. I've certainly felt that this week. Romans 5:1-5

Need further proof of God's promise? How about newly blooming water hyacinths on my pond today - in September!!

Tea tonight: Young Hyson

Holy Cow!

In true testament to the popularity of MckMama's blog, y'all have been so kind to email me with sweet words and blessings! Thanks so much for the visits - I'm honored to be a part of the prayer/blog community that MckMama has created. Isn't she a trip?? But more awesome than that, isn't our God HUGE??

Let's keep those prayers coming for MckFamily. And for those of you who noticed that today is 1 month, 1 week, and 1 day to Stellan's due date, don't think I wasn't reminded of this post!

Peace to you this Sunday,


Tea today: Genmaicha