Blessed to be in the family of God

Many of us have sung this old hymn, "I'm so glad I'm a part of the Family of God,
I've been washed in the fountain, cleansed by His blood! Joint heirs with Jesus as we travel this sod,
For I'm part of the family, The Family of God."  It's been my earworm today - and a good one to have. (Better than "Pumped Up Kicks" which kept recirculating in my brain for weeks and weeks).  Wrapping up 2018 and heading into 2019, like many others, I found myself with a retrospective eye.

2016 I tend to think of as The Year of Catastrophe. Pat passed in July and my world was officially topsy-turvy. The whole family was dealing with grief in various ways and two new little ones that would never see their Poppy on this earth were born in the midst. Whilst trying to find my footing, I had an adult severely bullying me. However, in the midst of it, I had my church family and I worked at a *fantastic* school with tremendous leadership, so every day I could wake up and have a sense of purpose. 2017 was a Year of Change/Risk. Financially, I needed to find stability - so I took a risk, took a leap of faith.  Some risks pan out; some don't. There was much good in that year, but I painfully discovered that all that glitters is not gold.  I want to call 2018 the Year of False Promise - a nod to my blind optimism that led to the Year of Change/Risk  - but I also think of it as the Year God Bails Me Out Again and Again or the Year of Treading Water.  However, I guess the most appropriate term would be The Year God Shows Me Again and Again That In Spite of Myself, He Loves Me and Has My Back (and blessed me with an accidental pumpkin patch). Consistent in these three years of feeling shaken like a snow globe, has been the God who contains me -- and the loving friends and church family He has blessed me with. The prayers, the support, the guidance, the opportunities to BE and do - Psalm 68:6a states, "God sets the lonely in families, he leads out the prisoners with singing." I can testify to this truth.

Yesterday, I was blessed with the opportunity to go with a dear friend to her ultrasound and see the magic of LIFE. Seeing that little baby was beautiful, simply beautiful. Our God is a life-giver! (We're getting another one in our family this year, too). After I left, I wanted to do something to make the gender reveal more fun for the couple than opening an envelope (I knew the gender, she didn't), so I went to Marc's for ideas.  While I was there, a lovely woman I know spotted me and rushed over to hug me; she reminded me of our sisterhood as widows with the tenderness that only another widow who comprehends the frailty of this state can. This was one of those women of faith that I always looked up to; her godly behavior and attitude was an inspiration. Facing widowhood after a long loving marriage, she handled the death of her spouse with such grace and dignity.  Here we were in the store and she was glowing with exciting news to share - before Thanksgiving she had gotten remarried. It had been five years since her husband had passed and the Lord had put a godly man in her life.  It was evident that he was proud to call her his - I love to see that. That joy, that radiance - again, our God is a life-giver!  She and her spouse also gave me some wise advice should marriage be in my future:  "Be sure to marry a man that is more spiritual than you." Later that night, I was able to discuss the wisdom of this with yet another member of my spiritual family, sharing concerns and getting/giving feedback.

I have no idea what sort of year 2019 will be. I hope it will be the Year of Feeting Firmly Grounded, Job Security and Stability. Regardless of what I'm thinking/feeling as I sum it up at the end of this year, I know that my God will always be with me and I'm traveling this sod with joint-heirs. Fellow pilgrims and aliens. "When one has a heartache, we all share the tears, And rejoice in each victory in this family so dear." 

2019 may be looking at me with a gaping maw or a gentle smile, I do not know. What I *do* know is, He is with me always ... and I'm a part of His family; therefore, I'm not traveling through it alone.

Fix my eyes...

When it is time to do balance poses in yoga class, there are generally sighs, moans and quiet grumbles heard around the room. Balance is hard - it makes us uncomfortable, it forces awareness of our weaknesses.  It is human nature to shy away from highlighting our weaknesses and instead embrace our strengths. However, when we set our intention on challenging our weaknesses, what an incredible elation we feel when we are victorious!

A successful balance posture requires both drishti and breath. In yoga  drishti is a focused gaze, it is meant for developing concentrated intention.   When teaching a balance posture, I instruct students to "find a drishti" and set their gaze.  The idea is to concentrate - to allow your gaze to rest on a focal point - drishti - and relax into the posture. Concentrate and relax - seems like a paradox. To concentrate is to focus mental effort on a particular activity or object; to relax is to rest, to become less rigid to ease.  When doing a balance posture, it is important to fix your gaze and allow your breath to become deep and smooth. Balance postures develop a quiet strength; regulating breath helps to maintain focus (while feeding the body with oxygen).

I find it fascinating that the etymology of respiration is "spirit."  The Spirit gives us life.  Just as we need to breathe in life-giving oxygen; we need to deeply breathe in the breath of God.  To inspire is to "fill with the ability to do or feel something." 2 Timothy 3:16 tells us that "All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness."

Jesus is my drishti - day by day it is necessary to remind myself of a verse from Hebrews: "fix your eyes upon Jesus, the author and perfecter of your faith..."  I need concentrated intention to follow my Lord and yet I also need to relax in His care. The world is constantly bombarding us with distractions that vie for our attention. So often, I'm like Peter walking on that stormy sea towards Jesus and I lose my focus, allowing the wind and the waves to frighten me. Did you notice that when you are most anxious you tend to hold or shorten your breath?  In those shaky moments in a balance pose when your body is quivering and sweat is rolling down your brow, finding drishti and regulating your breath are key to overcoming the body's fear and relaxing into the effort. This is true in facing the challenges of life. HE is the author (the creator, the one with the script) and perfector (finisher, completer). We must fix our gaze on Him, breathe deeply of His word, and rest in the knowledge that He who began a good work in us will indeed complete it.

The full verse I quoted from Hebrews states, "Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God."  He endured so very much for our sake. While building strength is part of a yoga balance, in life we don't have to rely on our physical condition -  the joy of the Lord is our strength. The trials and tribulations we face are to life what those shaky, weak tremblings in a yoga balance are. We must accept them but know that they are building our trust, strengthening our faith.   If you want victory in a balance posture: focus and breathe. If you want victory in overcoming the challenges of sin and to stand firm in the trials of this world: Jesus must be your drishti and the breath you breathe.  "Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God"  Colossians 3:2-3

Be salt and light.

Firing up a fine glaze...

Around 4am this morning I woke up for no apparent reason, after tossing a bit, I grabbed my phone. This is usually a bad move because the blue light emitting from the phone suppresses melatonin. But right before bed, a friend and I were having conversation about some deep things of God and life. (I *love* friends like that). 

Last night I had also watched a movie about the life of Rich Mullins, Ragamuffin.  In it there was a quote from Brennan Manning that hit me hard:  "The Lord Jesus is going to ask each of us one question and only one question: Do you believe that I loved you? That I desired you? That I waited for you day after day? That I longed to hear the sound of your voice?" As the dialogue went back and forth, my friend mentioned what she perceives as my optimism and bravery...and its not that at all. I wake up and cry. I shout out, I tremble in fear. I wonder what the heck His plan is and what tomorrow will bring. Through it all: I just believe that He loves. I *know* Whom I have believed in and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him against that day (2 Tim 1:12)  I have to follow. I'm compelled.  That furnace maw is gaping and I see the flames rising high inside -- but I see Him telling me "Walk, I'm with you. It will be alright." So I walk. I try to love. I stumble and He picks me up. How I hate these prosperity preachers that try to tell you that a life of faith is a cake walk. It isn't. In spite of that, it's glorious and wonderful. It's easier to just quote what I said at 4am. "I wake up at night worrying and have to keep submitting. And there are so many other things going on. My analogy for me is like Peter walking to Jesus in the water. I keep wanting to look down and I know the waves are high and the sea is full of dark things lurking — so it is this bizarre paradox of rest in effort to keep my eyes on Christ."

The Lord gave me an illustration of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego heading into the fire furnace.  They *would* not submit to bowing down to Nebuchadnezzar's image  -- so they stepped into a room of flame.  I'm sure they hoped He would deliver them before their feet touched the floor of that fiery inferno, but He didn't.  It's not that these three men were brave - they just know Who they believed in.  They kept their eyes on Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith.  And that made me think of all the analogies of us as clay in the Potter's hand.  What's the final step in finishing a piece of pottery?  The beautiful glaze that seals it, waterproofing it, and giving it beauty.  In order to be finished, that clay pot has to go INTO THE KILN.

I have so very much more I want to write about this...next time.  Just imagine how beautiful you will be when the firing is over and the Master takes you out of the kiln...take joy in the purpose. What kind of clay pot will you be?

Taste and see...

How do you describe the taste of chocolate to someone who has never once felt its wonder on his tongue? Sacramento Bee food critic Chris Macias stated, "Sensitivity to taste is as unique as a fingerprint."  Not everyone can taste phenylthiocarbamide (PTC). If you have the right genetic make up, PTC tastes bitter to you. If you do not have it, PTC is virtually tasteless. Studies indicate that up to 70% of tasters have bitter-blindness.  Try as you might, you will not be able to describe to them those who lack the alleles responsible for perceiving these tastes. Besides non-tasters, there are also supertasters who are highly sensitive and your more average taste buds.  When I was very ill with Graves' disease, I had to take a positively nasty drug called propylthiouracil. It was a tiny pill but just a moment in my mouth waiting for water to flush it down was terrible to endure. Dr. Linda Bartoshuk, who is a professor at the University of Florida, discovered that while about 25% of the population is extremely sensitive to the taste of this chemical, an equal portion (25-30%) cannot taste it. This means that there are about 45-50% who can taste it but it isn't as offensive to their tongue. 

"Taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him." Psalm 34:8 (NIV) Those of us who know the Lord can vouch that this is indeed true. However, there are those who cannot "taste" His presence. Without rebirth in Christ, you can describe your experience as simply or grandly, with all the passion and fire you can muster, or in a cool, calm, logical fashion and still you will not be able to convince them that this "taste" is possible because to them the Lord is just a myth. Along with not persuading them, you will also likely get scoffed at for believing in a fairy tale.  In debating with atheists, what I discovered is that there is a strong aversion to the mere thought that you, Christian, believe yourself to have something, some special knowledge, that they do not have. That aversion may evolve into outright anger if they also develop an idea that the values for which you stand, thanks to what they believe is your mythical deity, are in opposition to attitude and life choices they hold. 

Their lack of "taste" for the Lord is similar to the genetics of non-tasters. Of course, this would horrify and outrage an atheist to hear it, but just because they cannot comprehend the Godhead, does not mean that He does not exist and that we are not daily experiencing His presence. Yes, this is frustrating. It is frustrating for them - to whom we look childish or crazy - and to us, who so long for them to see, feel and KNOW what is absolutely real to us.

That said, what do you do? Do you engage in heated debates? Do you walk away? Atheism isn't a matter of the "head," it is a matter of the heart. Arrogance (which they will tend to accuse you of anyway for daring to believe faith is not unscientific), anger, and insult aren't productive. Rational superiority isn't going to win the day or even just the argument. Certainly not the soul. This doesn't mean don't plant seed. Give the reasons for the faith that you have. Be patient. Be kind.  If you genuinely care, you must share the gospel. Hammering and pounding don't make seeds grow.  God does.  Plant or water, whichever job God has chosen you for and then continue to be salt and light. 

Salt gives even tasteless things flavor.  Here's an interesting tidbit about salt:  salt ions hone in on bitter compounds, suppressing them while enhancing sweetness. Chemical wizardry happens when you use salt:  salt dispels bitterness, intensifies sweetness.  When our Lord told us to be "salt" in this world, He was telling us to use this ability to diminish that bitter and bring out the sweet.  Matthew 5:13 tells us that we are the salt of the earth.  We need to go be salty today...the right way. 


Hebrews 6:4-5 (NIV) For in the case of those who have once been enlightened and have tasted of the heavenly gift and have been made partakers of the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the good word of God and the powers of the age to come,

1 Peter 2:3
if you have tasted the kindness of the Lord.


Psalm 119:103
How sweet are Your words to my taste! Yes, sweeter than honey to my mouth!

Jeremiah 15:16
Your words were found and I ate them, And Your words became for me a joy and the delight of my heart; For I have been called by Your name, O LORD God of hosts.

Ezekiel 3:3
He said to me, "Son of man, feed your stomach and fill your body with this scroll which I am giving you " Then I ate it, and it was sweet as honey in my mouth.

My father was a big man...

My father was a big man
Strength in size
Strength in words
His love wrapped around me
I felt safe with the sound
Of his voice
In my life
My husband, too, was a big man
Steadfast as a rock
Steadfast in his heart
his love wrapped around me
I felt safe with the rhythm
Of his heartbeat
In my life
These are silent now
The words I need to hear don't sound
The beat of that heart has stopped
Safety is a memory
Love is a blanket that is lost

Not a tragic figure...

She didn't want
To cut a tragic figure
To have dark, care worn eyes
And a silhouette that
Spoke of sorrow
She wanted to be
Strong, brave, fearless
The one with the dancing heart
Twirling in the breeze
Curls flying
Even singing
What she didn't want
Was creeping upon her
And she fought hard
To sing, to dance
To stand firm
Against the shadows that crept
After her, swallowing
Her joy in
Big, greedy gulps

His lips were broken...

His lips were broken
Oh perhaps they moved
They kissed
They chewed
Sounds escaped
Formed into words
Words of no depth
Of heart
The lover's cord
Was disconnected
And short-circuited
So heart to mind to lips
The circuit was cut
Could it be
Spliced?
Rerouted?
She didn't know
But words feed her soul
And her soul was feeling faint
She tried the nourishment offered
Penetrating gaze
Acts of service
A hand held
She swallowed hard, appreciation
Like a liquid seeking to
Fill the empty silence
The need, the craving
Ached and burned
Hunger hurt
Growling in the
Silence, patience
While technical support looks into
The matter
Is there even a port for her to connect?
She wonders
And the world feels flat
And she feels flat
And dull and lifeless
And the air she needs to be filled
Is denied her
His lips are broken
So is she

8/31/18