in the flesh

"How are you?," our pastor asked.

"I'm beside myself!," I replied.

Today--finally--after months of prayer, I got to meet Michael--in the flesh. Michael is my friend's fiance--from Uganda. He is a handsome man with a brilliant smile. He loves God--and he loves Sharon. So this week,

• He got on a plane--for the first time.
• He left Africa--for the first time.
• He changed planes in Amsterdam--for the first time.
• He arrived in the United States--for the first time.

This morning, I was able to hug him--for the first time. Ugandans are good huggers.

So while it is hard to let go of a friend and see her move to Uganda, there is comfort in knowing that this man will love, honor, and protect her with those strong arms.

ruthless

"I chased my enemies and caught them; I did not stop until they were conquered." (Psalm 18:37, NLT)

"If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. It's better to enter eternal life with only one hand than to go into the unquenchable fires of hell with two hands." (Mark 9:43)

Now, I like my hands a lot. They fit so nicely in my husband's grasp; they express my heart with the varied touch I apply to the keys of a piano; they hold tiny Mr. Noah as we dance together with joy.

An odd word came to mind connecting these verses--ruthless.

What are the enemies that I must pursue and conquer, the sins that I must cut out of my life? Anger, fear, hatred for starters. Chase 'em down and conquer them.

Strange word, ruthless. It simply means "having no pity". So rather than justifying a bad attitude or blaming others--stop the pity party with sin.

Imagine my surprise when I turned to the study note in my Bible--"We must be ruthless in removing sin from our lives now in order to avoid suffering for eternity. Make your choices from an eternal perspective."

God speaks. Will I have the courage to be ruthless?

frozen north

You know it's cold when... you go to Wal-Mart on Saturday morning and the aisles are empty.

You know it's cold when... your husband, who grew up in Montana and is a fearless winter driver, comes home and suggests maybe you should reconsider the planned excursion to Detroit for your nephew's first birthday party.

You know it's cold when... your body is so dry you are tempted to slather it with petroleum jelly to shield it from the dry air.

You know it's cold when... the Coke Zero stored in the semi-heated back hallway is slush when you open the can.

We wisely canceled the trip after looking at the map of lower Michigan with the brilliant blue storm patches covering every possible route from here to my brother's place. It does feel like I have officially crossed some boundary in my life--the imaginary line from young person to old person. However, it is best not to spend the day in the ditch or the emergency room.

Instead, we will spend the day snugly at home listening to the hum of the washer and dryer... perhaps bundling ourselves for the 1/4-mile trek to the nearby pub for some Guinness beef and sticky toffee pudding later in the afternoon.

It has the feel of a childhood snow day, wide open with possibility.

mist

The arctic cold generates a fine, frozen mist that hovers above the earth and glitters like stardust fallen to earth. As I drive to work in the morning, it swirls in my headlights. It dims the half-moon above, and the city lights shoot heavenward in glowing columns against the frozen air. It is a beautiful sight, distracting me from yet another commute on the perils of a highway slick with black ice.

I think about parallels in my spiritual life... how sometimes the mist blurs my view of God, and an icy glaze forms over my heart. Like black ice, it can come without warning, stealthily, invisibly--until suddenly I'm headed for the ditch.

That happened recently--figuratively--as disappointment over a delayed desire and frustration about a relationship caused my spiritual temperature to drop, sending me into a skid. I stuck it out, though, reading the Bible and praying.

It took a midnight wakening with jaw clenched and muscles taut with tension to bring me face down in child pose before God.

Surrender. Peace. Joy.

Like the first warm breath of spring.

(in)gratitude

I've noticed lately how ingratitude there is. People who don't say thank you, or those who can find the cloud around every silver lining. Even our "praise reports" after a recent Bible study sounded perilously half-empty.

Even I fall prey to this. Instead of being grateful that I was selected to be a Dale Carnegie instructor candidate, I instead focused on the failure. Instead of thankfulness for the many redeeming qualities in one of my co-workers, I focus on personality traits that fray my last nerve.

I am thankful for...
- a job when so many are unemployed
- the cup of coffee that my husband brings me each morning
- the gentle ppppht of snowflakes and the quiet hum of tires on a snowy road
- waking to find a soft kitty paw wrapped around my neck
- God, the Creator of all good things, and the things that are for my good even when I don't see them that way.

comfort

So, I decided to go play the piano, since it was freshly tuned TODAY! (Oh, joy). And received comfort from an old hymn, "Day By Day"...

"Day by day and with each passing moment,
Strength I find to meet my trials here.
Trusting in my Father's wise bestowment,
I've no cause for worry or for fear.
He whose heart is kind beyond all measure
Gives unto each day what He deems best--
Lovingly, its part of pain and pleasure,
Mingling toil with peace and rest."

The next verse contains the phrase,
"The protection of His child and treasure
is a charge that on Himself He laid."

So while I do not understand this failure or frustration, I will surrender to God's kind heart and trust that He is protecting me from something that I do not yet see.

failure

I knew the answer before they even gave it to me.

It was like the boss that fired me. He began by telling me how wonderful I was, what a good worker, etc. (I pretty much told him to stop with the compliments and get to the point.) These guys told me how knowledgeable I am, how physically in shape I am--both qualities necessary for the rigorous training delivery.I could hear the "but" coming...

What's up with people who deliver disappointing news by leading with a bunch of compliments, anyway? Like I'm supposed to believe that they care about me as a person, that they truly think I'm wonderful?! You have got to be kidding me! Next thing they'll be trying to sell me property west of Holland, Michigan.

I'm not sure what makes me more angry--the fact that after I called, e-mailed, and called them again, waiting for weeks--that I didn't get the answer I hoped for? Or that I had to call them, instead of them having the courage and courtesy to call me? Was it the preliminary b-s about how my holidays were, and how wonderful I am? Don't waste any more of my precious time!

It all boils down to failure. Being judged and found wanting. There's nothing that takes away that pain--even though I wrote in my journal this morning that if I had 30 days to live, I would not choose to spend my time with these particular people. And I meant it. I do not have time for arrogance.

How to process the sense of failure and move on? Being angry with them doesn't hurt them at all. They're pressing on with their steamroller of self-satisfaction. Being angry with myself is not the solution, either.

Well. I think I'll go knit or something. Maybe the answer will come to me there.

show off

I finally had to get something done. Not that I've been slacking or anything (a commissioned scarf, a baby sweater, a sweater for myself), but this little? project has been sitting in the knitting basket since late 2007.

The afghan pattern is simple garter stitch; the exceptional beauty is created by the three dyed-to-match Fleece Artist yarns (one thick & thin, two boucle)...

The effect is the outrageous beauty of an autumn day that I can enjoy throughout the frozen Michigan winter.

happy.new.year

I'm taking my own advice. About replacement dates, that is.

January 1st is not my favorite day. Too many childhood memories of the annual potluck dinner at Baguleys, filled with food that I didn't like and the TV blaring football, football, football.

Then there's the whole "Happy New Year" thing--resolutions, goals, this huge 365-day blank slate to fill with more and greater accomplishments. I'm tired before I even start.

This year, I'm taking it one step at a time.

Happy. Yes--I am. Lots of reasons to be happy, but here are a couple. Bruce and I ran in the One One Run. Together. It was his first official "run". And in Bruce's words, he exceeded his goal. Which was to run 2.2 miles in the time it took Big Daddy Wilkinson to run the Chicago Marathon. Here's another reason to be happy. I spent time with my friend, Sharon, playing piano (me) and cello (her). We made it through our first run of Kol Nidrei. Yes, we've got a lot of work before it appears effortless--but the potential is definitely there. So here's resolution #1: find one thing to be happy about each day.

New. I'll have a lot of new experiences this year. Some will be great and others will be painful. The great thing about it is that new = learning. And I hope I never get too old for that! Resolution #2: open myself more to new things instead of clinging to the familiar.

Year. A year consists of 365 days. Rather than taking them all at once and feeling overwhelmed, I'm going to enjoy the journey this year. Resolution #3: live more in the moment. Not in the past, not in the future. But here and now, with the people I love. Of which (or is it of whom?) there are many.

Oh. So how does the replacement date come in? If there's a day that isn't your favorite, for whatever reason (mine being the dreaded annual New Year's Day potluck), take charge. Create new memories to push the old ones back in the card catalog of your memory.

Bundle up and run a One One Run. Schedule a date with a friend. You'll be glad you did!

hide and seek

Imagine God, arriving in the Garden of Eden in the cool of the day. He looked forward to that regular time with Adam and Eve; He loved being together.

But this particular day, no Adam and Eve to greet Him. He called to them.

Picture Adam and Eve on this particular day. Dodging behind trees, breathing as quietly as possible, hearts pounding anxiously. Perhaps hoping that God would skip today's meeting.

So began our game of hide and seek with God. We hide--that is never His role. He seeks.

God, I try so hard to hide my nakedness--angry thoughts, sharp words, critical spirit, fear of failure, and on it goes. I hastily fashion inadequate coverings of self-justification and rationalization. I'm like a small child, closing my eyes and thinking it makes me invisible.

Naked and unashamed. Living with a clean, forgiven heart. That is how I want to live before You.