Great Day

There are good days, and there are great days. Yesterday was the latter. I'll just tell you about it...

I was asked a couple of months ago if I would sing at the Cowboy Hall of Fame. I didn't ask questions, I just said yes. I knew it wouldn't be just me, but out of my choir of 400 women, I thought there would be more than 20 of us. NOPE. I don't know what the selection process was. Out of 400 women, I'm certainly not in the top 20 most talented. Alphabetically, there are more that 20 women ahead of even my Czajkoski. Did they draw names? Couldn't be. I never win stuff. So who knows? God just wanted to surprise me with a really amazing once in a lifetime experience.

I arrived at the time and place I was supposed to. There were a few people at the cash bar, but not very many. Most everyone was in formal attire. My uniform for this group is black dress and jacket, so I noticed that I fit in. I wandered around until I found the banquet hall with 20 other women dressed exactly like me, and was shocked to see that this was no small gathering...there were about 3000 chairs around the white-linen draped tables. There was a formal waitstaff placing salads and desserts on the tables, and lots of Chardonnay and Cabernet. Although I don't drink, it felt very sophisticated and important. So I asked our director what was this? (I'm quite the cracker) and he said that it was the Oklahoma Sports Hall of Fame induction ceremony, or the Jim Thorpe awards. My eyes glazed over...stars were shooting out my ears, and I thought, every guy I know will be SO jealous!!!!

It was a type of heaven for me. I love sports, and knew that this was an honor like few I'll ever have. I found out that this was a $150 a plate shindig, which is a lot for a cracker. I mean, I'm the cracker. For $150 we didn't get crackers. We got rolls. You don't choose between steak and chicken at these affairs...you get both. Well, anyway, we warmed up our voices and did mic checks, and then were seated at the back (we were guests, not patrons, after all) and then the people watching began.

There were many older men between 6 and 7 feet tall, and as it turned out they were former inductees. I knew the names, but the faces were older than you see in their pictures. Former OSU b-ball coach Eddie Sutton walked in. The Mayor (voted best dressed by GQ or Esquire or something), the Governor, the Lieut. Gov., a state Senator, many sports writers, newscasters, and such filed in. Beautiful people (whom I don't really like, but that's judgemental of me) were everywhere, none of whom were getting awards because beauty is apparently its own reward. Then these old men came, who turned out to be the Frederick, Oklahoma Bombers High School football team of 1956-the first integrated football team in Oklahoma, 10 years before integration was required. They were really enjoying getting together again!

Two inductees were there-B-baller Jim Shipp (what a story!!) and golfer Doug Tewell (a man for whom I have a great deal of respect). The third, Waddy Young, had been shot down in war years ago, but had fam there to accept. I had so much fun watching them, and staring at the people. I sat a few tables over from Jim Thorpe's granddaughter (WOW!) and was in direct eye contact with Bob Barry, Jr. So cool.

We sang about half way through. We sang America, The Beautiful and The Salute to the Armed Forces, and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. We had the best standing ovation ever. We don't often get the opportunity to sing in secular venues in our state, so it was really special to me. Our choir travels all over the world, and then we get an opportunity to serve and to sing in large concert halls. The last concert was in Romania and Hungary. The men have been to Australia where they sang as a group in the Sydney Opera House, and in small groups in tiny areas all over Australia. They have been to Brazil, China, Russia...many places. But I digress.

The whole program was about 4 hours long. It seemed like mere minutes. I got some souvenirs (not the alcohol...) and had the most wonderful dinner, good conversation with sports figures, and not one single photo. If only I had known!!!!! Oh, well. It was a night I will not soon forget.

As I walked out in the parking lot, a familiar voice called out to me. "You ladies sang WONDERFULLY!!!!" I turned in awe. I already knew sho it was...it was the voice of an angel-the voice of Your OOOOKlahoma Sooners, BOB BARRY!!!! And he was talking to ME!!! I turned to him, and yelled back thanks, and he said, "I'm an old Air Force boy, you know!" So I thanked him again, and yelled something stupid because clever travels out of the mouth so much slower. I watched him get into his car, and we smiled, and I walked away.

Wow. What a special night I had. I wish Brian Bosworth and Barry Switzer were there. I guess you can't have everything...but it was close.

Getting Over It

I have mad days, and I'll lash out at things, people. And after I have a moment to think about it, I realize I'm soothing a tender spot on my soul.

You know that feeling, that God is speaking in that small voice, so you yell a little to drown it out? Maybe it's that. I know I want to go, I know I want to teach. I wonder, though, how to do it. I want to find that obedience in me, and I guess I mistakenly expect my church to magically bestow it on me. The thing is, our churches aren't there for any other reason than to corporately praise God, taking time out of our busy week to worship Him, and then to equip ourselves and each other to go out that week and reach others. But we find ourselves unwilling to bring people with real problems into our self-serving churches. I don't think our churches mean to be self-serving. I think they are full of people who love the Lord. Our love just gets selfish. We will go and reach out, but only if those we reach are actually deemed by us to be worthy of our love and charity. Do they have the potential to become contributing members, or will they be leeches, sucking away at our resources, just to move on? Is my ability to reach out and love people that greedy? Apparently. I have long lost the ability to love, expecting nothing in return, as if by loving someone unlovale I fear encouraging their bad behavior.

God said love. He meant love. I must follow His lead, because He loved me, the most unlovely of all. Of all the ones He could have invested His life in, I probably have the least potential for great return. And yet He not only loves me, but FIERCELY pursues me.

If I say I have love, but hate my brother, I lie, and there is no truth in me.

I will let go of my self-serving disgust with everyone who isn't enabling my agenda, and I will get over it, and get on with the work I'm supposed to do. Whatever, today, that may be.

Good Read

I am almost finished with a book that I started on Monday. If I had more time, I'd have finished Tuesday. It's called "Searching For God Knows What" by this guy named Donald Miller. I'm having trouble putting my finger on my feelings. I don't want this to be one of those situations where, I'm mad at the way things are going in my church so I'll subscribe to anything that's anti-what-my-church-does, but I have to admit it has me reeling.

I feel like we've lost it. We're repeating the sins of the Sanhedrin and expecting God to work within all of the legal boundaries we've set for Him. We see the crazy list of rules the Jews came up with in the early church, and then God shows up and they want to tell Him He's doing it wrong. But we do the same. We're waiting for Him to free us of the world we live in, but we don't want to be obedient and do what He sent us to do. We want to condemn sin and cry foul and blame it on contemporary music and homosexuals and insist we can't have church in chairs, we need proper pews, and if we don't have three hymns and a sermon with three points, and an offertory, then we haven't worshipped. (Don't get me wrong, I love hymns, and I think you can crank some real emotion out of the more somber ones...)

Have you ever been so excited about something that you couldn't raise your voice enough to cheer like you really really wanted to? Like a goal line stand in a crucial football game, or a 90 yard touchdown against Texas? Have you ever shown that kind of excitement in church? Yeah, me neither.

I cannot put enough emphasis to show the emotion I feel behind these words: WHY NOT????!!!! Where is the passion? Where is the intensity? Don't give me that crap about how sometimes God just speaks in a quiet voice...I already know that. But sometimes He doesn't. Sometimes He's in the thunder. Sometimes a flaming bush. I feel intensity in my marriage, and certainly a passionate love for my kids. Have I failed in not showing God that kind of love? Doesn't He deserve a last-second national championship touchdown kind of love? How much would it suck if, on a beach, one lover raced across the sand to the other, while the other just stood there waiting?

You think I'm confusing sensational excitement with love. No, I'm not. I am comfortable in the Abba Father warm affectionate love. But sometimes I feel like I just want to express myself louder, as one victim of The Fall who occasionally feels really excited about the fact that I've been saved from paying for it. I fear I have been holding back, not accepting the fact that God is PURSUING me and wants a relationship with me. One of the points of this book is that God doesn't act within formulas, but more in a relational way. Take a marriage for instance: signing a piece of paper and going thru some steps will make you legally married. But some things have got to change about my singleness if I want that marriage to work. It's not like signing an insurance form and then driving like I want. It's about focusing on the marriage and working at it. Giving myself up daily and enjoying the love of my husband. Working out my salvation.

Yes, I'm familiar with grace. That doesn't give me permission to "not worry about screwing up." Paul said that we don't test grace and use it frequently because it's there. Instead we try, we make an effort to love Him back. All He asks is our obedience, and He desires our love. Like we hope that some day, our kids who require our love will one day return it, free of selfish need. ( I don't care what you think...your kids have to learn to love you apart from just being a parent, and it means more that way...) When did you realize, if you have by now, that you would love your parents if they weren't your parents??

So this is how I "stew". My whole outlook may change tomorrow, and I may find peace. But I hope that soon I understand how to wrap my brain around how much God loves me. I don't have to understand it, I know. I just want Him to know that sometimes my heart is full of love for Him, and I feel helpless to express it, and wish that I would do what I know He wants me to do: to free that love up for someone who needs it.

Sigh. This is why people with ADD take Ritalin.

My doc said I didn't have to....

Serving the world on and off for...a few minutes now...

I'm back!!

I need an outlet. When I write to my friends, I write with a message in mind. But I need a journal, a place where I can get what's happening in my head out onto a tangible plane. That makes no sense, I know. But being clear to YOU is not going to be my goal today. Today it's going to be a little closer to free flow. What's that called? I don't know. Flight of thought or something. Mental diarrhea. Yes, that's spelled right.

Today I know that God has a plan for my life. But lately I'm so discouraged. I'm afraid I took the liberty to envision what God was going to do, and then sort of started "taking necessary steps" to make said dream come true. Here's the rub: (a phrase I'm so sick of...) I'm doing it by myself with little or no results, getting frustrated, and wondering what's taking God so long. Wait, it gets worse. I know that I am leaving God out, promising to make time, and then I just can't get it together to let Him take control. Too busy.

God wants some ME time. He doesn't want it for Himself, He wants it for me. He doesn't NEED me. He knows that I need Him, and He loves me so much that He keeps trying to impress on me that I can't do this alone. God says, "Look what I can do for you," and like Peter, I look down at my feet. Ever get that sinking feeling...yeah, me too.

My brain is noisy. Why won't it be still? Why can't I stop long enough to dwell on God, to seek out His goodness and who He is? I recently read something that asked if I had faith in God because of what He's done, or Who He Is? And only now am I seeing that when God is silent, I lose faith. I want only to be faithful, and I'm seeing how weak I really am. God doesn't need my agenda. He's sick of my arrogant self-sufficiency, and my pride is just getting in the way of seeing Him in everthing, every day.

He's silent because He wants me to seek, and to ask, and knock, and know. And I can't sit still long enough to let that happen. My heart is deceitful. While I know that it lies to me, I also know in my head that God is faithful and true, that He is there, and it would be so much nicer if I came along willingly as He is accomplishing His purpose in me.

My head is cluttered with the things that I can't fix. My church and my world aren't perfect. So what? Am I going to try to fix them anyway, or am I going to start praising God out loud, not caring if anyone follows my example? I need for a revival to take place in my heart. I need a renewed passion and zeal, and I need to get out there and start doing the work that I feel that we need to be doing.

I'm so convicted because one of my daughter's friends, about 20 years old, struck out on her own and went to Cambodia to serve in an orphanage. I'm a little envious. She had some valuable things stolen, but when we talk about it, I can almost see it in her eyes-"don't dwell on that. Those are just things. Ask me about how I spoke of God to people who didn't understand English. Ask about the work I did while I was there. Ask me about my passion for sharing the Lord in a real and needed way." I want to go, too. I want to stand on foreign soil and try to muddle my way thru a foreign language, and see a tiny spark in someone's eye. And then I want to come back saying I was far more blessed by God's work that they.

I think I do, anyway.

A friend of mine is teaching me spanish. I can tell you to shut up, and I can tell you when it's time to go. I can tell you if you're bleeding and ask you how many beers you've had. That should bring people to God.

Enough mental diarrhea.