Saturday, February 18, 2006

Turns out, I'm NOT crazy!

I work in an ICU that happens to be a floor above a psych hospital. A whole floor of crazy. So I hear everyone say "Better be careful, they may not let you out!" Of course, I have to go thru the first floor to get to the parking lot from the second floor, so it seemed plausible that some day, it just might happen.

Apparently, I am not mental health material. (I must not have any mental health...). Here's my story: I'm on #15 1/2 of a 16 hour shift. 12 ounces of caffeine would do me good right about now, I thought. Someone told me that the first floor vending machine is colder than the second floor vending machine, so I decided to check that out. And I decided to take a route I'd never taken before in my life. Cause I'm adventurous. And stupid. But apparently not crazy. I found the stairwell, and I went down the stairs knowing that once you're in you can't get back out, except on ground level. It's a chance I needed to take for a really cold can of DP.

As I exited the stairwell, I found myself in an alcove between said stairwell which is now locked, a glass door that leads outside, and a locked door that leads to the mental health unit. It was glass, and inside about 25 yards away sat psych nurses (a rare bunch) who thought I was a ghost. That's all I can come up with, because they just stopped and looked at me, all deer-in-the-headlights-like. I thought, maybe I'm not moving enough, so I started waving them toward me, and still they sat and stared. So I made bigger motions, and finally one of them headed my way. Verrryyy slllloooowwwly. When she got within hearing distance, I told her my name and where I was coming from. She tried, to her credit, (the only credit she gets) to let me in, but the door was locked. "Go outside to the north door, and I'll let you in there." Which seemed like a good idea at the time. After all, it had gotten up to 20 degrees! The wind was 10mph out of the north. I could handle the quick 30 yard jog. So outside I went, where I was struck by a biting wind, and hustled myself to the north door. There they all sat, at the nurse's station, heads down, not looking at me. Not coming to let me in. I waved. I jumped. After a minute I started pounding and kicking the doors. Nothing. They were ignoring me. And it was cold.

I took off to the front of the building, realizing my name tag was upstairs with my keys and any form of contact with the hospital. I tried to think of survival tactics. I looked for shelter. I was wearing scrubs. A very thin layer of cotton protected me from the elements. Could I fashion a lean-to out of...what? Rose bushes?? My mind began to numb. I knew my fingers were going to fall off soon. If I could only see my kids...one...more...time.....

Dramatic, I know. You will be relieved to know that I found security. It took some serious talking thru really blue lips, but I was able to convince him to let me in the hospital. The really cold cola no longer sounded like a good idea, and I opted for coffee instead.

Joshua 1:9 says "Have I not told you? Do not be anxious or afraid, for wherever you are, so will I be." Christ assures us that we go into no trial, no matter how serious or silly, alone. He protects us, guides and keeps us. Even when we do things that aren't smart, He doesn't shrug His Holy shoulders and cross His mighty arms and refuse to help. His grace and mercy wrap around us and comfort us, and lift us back up, healing, warming, and bringing peace and restoring joy.

So for those of you who ever wondered, I may be stupid, but even I can't get into a psych ward. Now that that's settled...I'm going HOME!!

Monday, February 06, 2006

Thursday, January 26, 2006

"Worship Style" is an oxymoron

I would love it if for once our service would run two hours over because we were bursting at the seams with love and praise for our God. Not so this time. We did run over two hours, but it was because the pastor uttered the words "contemporary services" and asked for opinions at the tail end of the business meeting. Never will you see passions ignite like they do in a Southern Baptist church where music style is involved. It's sad, really.

When did worship become about us and what we like? Why did we put God in a box and decide when and where we were able to worship? We say that we go to church to learn about God and praise Him. We are so concerned about packaging our religion to make it more attractive to a newer generation that "just isn't being reached by our old methods" that we don't realize He's attractive all by Himself without our help! If we have certain "worship methods" then we are so far off base. Can we, just for a second, admit that we've come to be entertained? Can we admit that our entire Sunday morning is spent concerning what we enjoy, and that if it goes beyond our particular tastes, then we call it "noise", or if we aren't getting the newest and best most popular music, then we say that it's tired and overdone?

In Genesis, Abraham was sitting at his tent when he had unexpected visitors. The Lord and two angels showed up. Actually, they just appeared. Abe got excited, since he's spent time with the Lord and recognized Him, and he and Sarai prepared dinner for the guests. They didn't microwave lasagna or throw burgers on the grill. In fact, he told Sarai to "hurry up! Get some flour and make bread!" and then had a calf killed and prepared. Abe apparently expected the Lord to hang out for awhile! Anyway, when it was all said and done, Abe had fed the Lord veal and fresh, homemade bread, and who knows how many varieties of fresh veggies from the garden. And then they discussed the issue at hand.

My point is this: Abe spent much time in prayer before God appeared in human form to him. When God showed up, Abe knew who He was, even in bodily form. I learned this week that it's called a "Theophany," or a physical pre-appearance of the Lord before His birth in the New Testament. Abe recognized God, and he rushed to create an atmosphere that was conducive to their meeting. Do we eagerly prepare an atmosphere of worship on Sundays, our appointed time for corporate worship? Or more importantly, did we do so before showing up at church that day? Do we spend time in private worship with God, so that when He shows up, we recognize Him? Can we, in fact, worship (WORSHIP!!!) when God reveals Himself in unexpected places? Or would we rather race to put on the right outfit, arrive at church annoyed and breathless, and then let everyone know that "we just didn't worship with that kind of music."

I'm so sick to death of hearing "worship style" from people who think that we are there to put on a show. If we are coming to church on Sunday mornings to win the lost, we are going for the wrong reasons. Yes, you heard me right. If you think I'm wrong, then research a little and find out why we are commanded to assemble together. It's to worship the Lord, to gain strength for the week ahead in order to be able to fight the good fight and share Christ with others. If we come for any other reason we are wasting God's time. Of course people can be saved on Sunday in our churches! If they come on a Sunday morning and see us truly worship, then it's up to God to change them! But if we are so arrogant as to say that WE need to create an atmosphere that will attract the lost, and WE need to make God look better to the world, and WE need to affect change in the hearts of people who don't know Him, WE are missing the boat, big time. God doesn't need our earthly makeover. We can't liposuction the unattractive parts of His word, tighten up loose skin, and highlight the good parts. We've only succeeded in presenting God as an all-accepting lovable hippie who just wants to love us all. So what's the point of trying then, if He just loves us all unconditionally? What of the God of Justice who HATES sin and will destroy it? What of the God our Creator who demands that we approach Him on our faces, as Holy and right?

How flippantly we walk into His house, and call it "our church" as if we have some sort of seniority there. How arrogantly we try to manipulate Him and present Him in a more attractive light. How phariseical we proclaim the "right way" of worship as in according to our particular mood that day, while calling someone else wrong. We will stand before Him one day. We will be forced to our knees in holy reverence. We will never ever approach Him casually. He is God. He Is.

This week, tithe 10% of your time to God in order to get to know Him. (2.4 hours a day...) Know what He looks like, and Sunday show up to praise Him. When we all get this right, it won't matter if they play Skynard or Bach or no music at all. We will know Him, and He will come to us in order to bring us a message. And then (and ONLY then) will we WORSHIP.

Worship is like water on the seed of our hearts. It causes it to blossom until all around can see its beauty and long to experience its pleasing aroma.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

More Like Him

As big a fuss as I made over waiting for autumn, football, and winter, I can't believe it's over. This has been the longest season ever, and I'm just glad it's over. I was busier than I ever remember being. My husband and I hardly saw each other. We worked, were in different programs, running the kids all over...it was crazy. January brings with it a kind of post football season depression. February brings on the serious depression because it's totally post season (I'm not a big pro fan, but I love the Super Bowl.)

Now what? New Year's Resolutions? I don't have that sort of attention span. I resolve something new every day. I have been in my Bible more this last week than usual. I'm studying Old Testament, particularly Genesis and presently Father Abraham. I'm inspired by the promises God made to Abraham, and how against all logic and odds, He fulfilled Abraham's deepest desire for a son of his own, even in his old age when his body was "as good as dead". I'm encouraged by the fact that God made promises to Abraham, and that God makes promises to us today and always keeps His promises, regardless of our failures and feeble attemts at doing right. I also am encouraged that when God says to be righteous and perfect, He is talking about the act of striving to be more like Him. I'm not righteous. I'm not even sorta good. I'm perfect, though, in that God is Righteousness in and thru me, even when I fall. I have perfected the falling routine!

When you have an impossible dream, be INTENTIONAL in pursuing God's will for your life. God gave us dreams and desires for a reason. They point us in the general area we're supposed to go, assuming that we are focused on Him and our desires serve to advance the Kingdom. By the way, God's Kingdom will be, with or without me. But my obedience draws me closer in my relationship to Him and as I am faithful, more of His will is revealed, and I find true joy in being like Him. God doesn't want or need me to like Him more. He wants me to be more like Him.

Saturday, December 24, 2005

Our Focus

People tease me a lot for my difficulty in focusing. Whether it be on the conversation, planning something, organizing...I just don't have that focus trait that some people have. Then I fly into this thing called "HYPER FOCUS" where I'm completely and totally fixated on one thing. This is what many people call "tunnel vision" and it doesn't happen often. The good thing about hyper focus is that it served me well in trauma, and does today in the ICU when I have medical emergencies. It also is a great thing to have when I'm writing, as it keeps me on task. I don't get hyper focus in matters of the home, except maybe once or twice a year. The result is my house gets cleaned (more so than the usual laundry and vaccuum) and you may find me two days later exhausted and covered in dust from the vents or the attic. Not kidding. I clean the heck out of the place. And heck really builds up after a few months, let me tell you.

This is really not getting me to my subject, which is another hallmark sign of ADD, so I will just get to it and not bother with trying to sound poetic or finding the right segue. My subject, is of course, our focus. Mine. Ours. Yours. Where is it this Christmas? Is it on musicals and presentations, concerts and plays? If they center on Christ, that's a fine thing to be sure, but what of the Christ? Is it easy to give Him honour and glory and praise when we are focused on performance? Of course, Christ expects our best. I truly want to sing my best for Him. But does it sap my energy, and take away from the wonderful, solemn moments I spend with Him in quiet awe, in study, in prayer? The sad fact is, it does. An old song, "I Miss My Time With You" has these lyrics: "I miss my time with you / those moments together / I need to be with you each day / and it hurts to hear you say / you're too busy / busy trying to serve Me / but how can you serve me / when your spirit's empty?"

Sometimes we're so busy "being about our Father's business" that we don't take the time to find out exactly what it is He wants us to do. Do we spend time with Him, recognizing Him as our King? Do we spend private, personal time with Him? It isn't enough to show up at His house on Sundays and Wednesdays and do "the church thing". It isn't enough to "do good and charitable things" in the name of God. If you think so, try spending twice a week with you spouse, and make an occasional gesture in your spouse's honour, and see how that flies. This will not a marriage make. How much more so should we spend quiet, private, personal time with Him who loves us more that anything, looking into His face, praising Him, dancing with Him?

This Christmas is a time we have set aside for the purpose of honouring Christ and His gift to us. Besides the gift of His birth and death on the cross for our salvation, is the gift of Loved Ones. He loves for us to take pleasure in the things, and the relationships He blesses us with! It's our responsibility to love each other, which after love for God is the greatest command.

2000 years ago, Our Saviour left His Kingdom to live on this pile of rubbish called earth, to save filthy ignorant sinners and take us home with Him some day. He wasn't recognized as Saviour. He wasn't recognized as King. He wasn't even recognized by His own people. Make it your soul purpose to get to know Our Lord in a personal way, so when He comes again...you'll know His voice!

Friday, December 16, 2005

The Broken Cookies

I spent much of the afternoon and this evening baking cookies. Every once in a great while, I just get a bug of some sort, and I want to bake. And bake I did. I made about 3 dozen peanut butter cookies, about 2 dozen no-bake (I guess I no-baked, too) and about 3 1/2 dozen Mocha Crinkles. I love to do that. I especially love mocha crinkles because not only are they yummy, they're just so darn cute! I'll add the recipe if you'd like-they're so easy! My husband came home late after running errands with our friend and minister to youth, Mark. The kids were with me, but they were getting ready to go see a movie with friends. So I listened to Christmas music on the satellite and had coffee. It was nice and peaceful, considering the normal chaos of Christmas.

Ashton and Brett came in while I was cooking and licked the bowls, and they wanted to sample the cookies. I told them to eat the ugly ones so that the ones that turned out pretty could be used in gift bags for friends, and for a Christmas Cookie exchange I'm going to on Sunday. They didn't complain. But now that they're at the movies and I long for family time, I wonder, why do we save all the best for people outside of our homes, and give our families what's left? I know my kids don't care if their cookies are shaped funny, or don't have enough powdered sugar. They taste the same, and they get to lick bowls and forks and beaters. (I sometimes even turn off the mixer first!)

I know that my family is a wonderful gift from God. I am glad that they are patient with me and don't worry too much when I give them my seconds. But I resolve to be a better wife and mom and from now on, I'll go to as much trouble making them pretty things-special things.

I'll just eat all of the broken ones myself.


Mocha Crinkles
1/12 c. firmly packed light brown sugar
1/2 c. vegetable oil
1/4 c. sour cream
1 egg
1 t. vanilla
1 3/4 c. all-purpose flour
3/4 c. unsweetened cocoa powder
2 t. instant espresso or coffee granules
1t. baking soda
1/4 t. salt
1/8 t. ground black pepper
1/2 c. powdered sugar

Preheat oven to 350. Beat brown sugar and oil in a medium bowl with electric mixer. Mix in sour cream, egg, and vanilla. Set aside. In another medium bowl mix flour, cocoa, espresso, baking soda, salt and pepper. Add the two mixes together and mix well. Refrigerate dough for 3-4 hours or until firm. Pour powdered sugar into small bowl. Set aside. Cut dough into little pieces (about 1") and roll into balls. Roll balls in powdered sugar, pressing into dough slightly. Bake on ungreased cookie sheet about 10 minutes until cookies "crack". Do NOT overbake! Cool on wire racks. Makes about 3 1/2 dozen small cookies.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

If my kids are band nerds, then...

I must be a momma nerd. I don't know exactly. Tonite was the Moore Band Christmas
Concert. This included three Jr Highs and two High Schools. My boys are one of the Jr High bands and they have improved over 200%. Amazing! The oldest boy plays french horn, the youngest plays trombone.

I had the pleasure of sitting next to another momma nerd who apparently just got her first cell phone. And she was happy to USE it. Repeatedly. Not only that, but she wanted to talk about her phone with the six-year-old sitting next to her. And she had long legs that she couldn't keep off of my side. She kept hitting me with her knees. My husband, on the other side of me, wanted to make cute comments about all the band kids. "Hey, that kid on the french horn looks like Sam the Shepherd from Looney Toons!" I got to enjoy some of it, though. There were very few lowlights from the concert.

I was a bundle of nerves, though. My daughter, driving alone for all of three weeks, including errands and back and forth to school and church, had her first wreck today. I was home lounging with a new suspense thriller, when I got the call. She was crying, and it took a second to make sense of what she was saying. When I realized she was fine, she said that someone hit her and took off, and she was calling me from the nearest parking lot, and wanted to know what to do. Derek, half an hour overdue, was not picking up his cell and since my daughter had my car, I was stuck. I tried to rack my brain for ways to get there. My neighbor was asleep already, and it didn't dawn on me that the preacher's son and daughter in law, a good friend of mine, lived around the corner, as did our church's minister to students. So I set off on foot-only 3/4 mile, but that's a long way when your baby is scared and it's getting to be close to 30 degrees out. I hardly noticed in my thin sweater and t-shirt. By the time I got there, the person who hit her had come back to the scene (she was actually turning around, not running, and had a special needs sister in her car, and was having trouble getting back to where the collision occured). My daughter had exchanged the proper info as the police on the phone told her to, and they were all waiting on me to drag my raggedy out of shape self there.

Turns out I have some serious rear-end problems. Me and my car. I will have to call the insurance people tomorrow and get it taken care of, which I really hate because there's no cosmetic damage that can't be wiped off with some bug-off, but the car isn't drivable. It sways when you drive. But all in all, the damages are few. Thank God for His protection! There's no such thing as a "little collision" when your kid is in it.

How much more, then, does our Father love us? As passionately and desperately as we love our children and want what's best, it doesn't begin to compare to God's love for us. He wants what is best. Even when it doesn't seem so at the time. As you go through hardships remember that they come to us lovingly thru God's filter. He loves us and is taking care of us, and gives His angels charge over us.

Thank you God, that I'm sitting in my warm house, safe with all my babies, sipping egg nog and reminiscing about the day, and looking forward to the snow tomorrow. Please continue to keep us safe, and help us to walk close to You always. Amen.

Monday, December 05, 2005

I'm not really taking back what I said...not really...

I don't know that my decision to boycott non-Christian companies who refuse to acknowledge Christmas was a great idea...and I will own up to it. I'm not so certain my frustration comes from them not promoting Christian things as it is that they are just plain cutting them out. I don't believe everyone should believe the way I do. I'm certainly ok with individuality, and in fact would be pretty sick if the world were just like me. I like me ok, but you know, too much of a good thing...as it were.

I read a great college newspaper article today about taking the individuality out of everything. Instead of us trying to make everything the same, why don't we acknowledge (and enjoy) all of the differences? I'm not saying that we should say, "Oh, look, holiday without Jesus is just ok." But I don't get to insist that atheist purchase and display a Holy Nativity; I have to pray for opportunities to share. Christ Himself shared the gospel in love, and left the decision up His audience. Maybe it was my intention all along, but I jump on angry band wagons without thinking it through. My friend, I am Peter and that's a sword in my hand. I still think it's a shame that we are trying to be all-inclusive by making it all one big thing. A Christmas tree (which is secular, by the way) is still a Christmas tree. They don't use them in Kwanzaa or Hanukkah. The writer of the article said, "I would never place a mennorah in my window and declare it a 'Holiday candelabra'." Good point.

So how does one share the love of God with others without taking God out of the conversation? Surely I (especially I) am not living so brightly that people look at me and think, "Oh! Christian! I'll have what she's having!" How will they (whomever 'they' are) know if I don't tell them? Because in the end it's the same answer: life without Jesus is pointless. I will make it then, a priority to share as God allows and leave the life-changing and decision-making up to Him and them. Colossians 4:5-6 "Be wise in the way you act with people who are not believers, making the most of every opportunity. When you talk, you should always be kind and pleasant so you will be able to answer everyone in the way you should."

Thanks for leaving my head mostly intact and letting me explain myself. God is good, Christ is Christmas, and as Ebenezer Scrooge says, "You keep Christmas in your way, and I'll keep Christmas in mine."

And they will know us by our fruitcake.

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

IT'S NOT A HOLIDAY!!

What's the deal with everybody wanting to quit Christmas? Why is it just a holiday now? My kids go on winter break from school. Someone's throwing a fit because the President wants to call that big pine with lights on the front lawn of the White House a "Christmas" tree!! Retailers won't acknowledge Christmas, let alone Christ. The same government that wants to remove all Christianity from the holiday is happy to take the Christmas Break and get paid for it.

I say we all pack it up, grab our families and some lunch, and head to some uncharted territory somewhere and make our own country with our own government, where we can worship God the way we want to.

OH WAIT!! WE ALREADY DID THAT!!!!!

And here we are, in our own land, being told how we will worship, celebrate, pray, and gather. I once had a Sunday School teacher who told me to "HIDE THE WORDS OF GOD IN MY HEART" because someday I wouldn't be free to read the Bible. I was scared then, but now I really see that it could be a possibility in the very near future. I'm mad now. I'm fighting mad. I know this isn't a patriotic holiday, but now more than ever it's evident that our freedom is at stake. I'm ready to fight for my freedom. I'm ready to stand up for my God and my Country and say that if you don't want to celebrate Christ's birth, fine. There's a nice warm resort waiting for you at the end of your life, and you will be as far from Him as you can possibly be.

Retailers, get over yourselves. You are willing to make billions of dollars off of American families who celebrate Christmas, so you need to be dancing a jig and singing the Happy Fat Wallet Christmas Song, and thanking God for His blessings. Advertisers, you are numbing everyone's minds with your holiday jingles and messages that we are bad parents if we don't buy our kids Xboxes and flat screen tvs and cell phones and portable DVD players...and then are so very careful to not offend all the other faiths. Cults. Whatever. HELLO? Do you know that more people claim Christianity than any other faith??? Why are we not screaming at the top of our lungs? Why are the billions of us not boycotting retailers at Christmas? I guarantee you if we spent one Christmas toy and gadget and electronic free, the retailers would hear, we would spend quality time with those we love, and GOD would be the center of His birthday party. Retailers aren't scared because they know we won't stand up. We can scream, but we will be there handing our money over saying "Oh, go ahead. I haven't the imagination to make mine a non-commercial Christmas."

I hate to send out such negativity. I like uplifting, happy e-votions. But right now I'm neither happy or uplifted. I want us to band together, or maybe even start a band together! and I want to fight and kick and scream! I want to celebrate Christmas! I want Jesus to be the center of the celebration!

Or we could stick Him in a box under our holiday tree.

By the way, whether the world acknowledges Him or not...He's still Christ the King and He's coming back for us! Hope it's not during the holiday...

"If My people who are called by My Name shall humble themselves and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from Heaven and will forgive their sin, and heal their land."

"And you shall call His name Immanuel, God with Us." Whether you want Him there or not.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made-God's words, not mine

Yippee!! Derek's grilling salmon tonite! I love when he grills. It means I don't have to cook. However, I'm trying to catch up with the dishes so we don't have to eat it out of bundt cake pans with measuring spoons. Not kidding. The dishwasher's broken and I don't function so well without it. He's also cooking grilled veggies, but I won't partake. My idea of a veggie is a baked potato. Starchy, I know. But who cares? It's yummy. My mom said vegetables wouldn't kill me and I needed to eat them. And here's what happened.

I found a veggie I liked. Artichoke. I ate it once or twice, and then took some to work with me at the emergency room where I was a nurse. Guess what. It almost killed me. About ten minutes after I ate it, with some chicken and pasta, my face felt tight, I got hot and sweaty, and my scalp felt like it was on fire. NOT in the good way either. I was standing near a physician's assistant (like doctor express) and I said, "Is my face red?" She turned and looked at me, and had the situation not been so potentially dangerous, she would have laughed out loud. It was like the scene in "Pure Luck" when Martin Short gets bee stung. Or like Wil Smith in "Hitch" where he has a food reaction. They got some meds pumped into me (do NOT take oral steroids without a sweet drink nearby) shot me with epinepherine, and just like that I got the rest of the day off. With a benadryl hangover. It's almost worth precariously clinging to life just to get half a day off. Ah, good times.

I'm eating salmon now because I'm supposed to increase my Omega-3's. And protein. Apparently I have adult ADD which means part of my brain is very low functioning. That would be the organization part of my brain, all you comedians. This explains why I'm bad at math and housework but still quite creative. I'm bad at planning, but react very efficiently in emergencies. It's why I use "thingy" in sentences a lot, because it's way easier than using valuable time to actually think of an appropriate word. Or why I'll need to yell for Derek while I'm looking at the clock, but I yell out "6:47!" rather than his name. Well, that may be something else entirely. I've always felt like a failure as a wife and mother because I don't seem to possess the ability to Martha Stewartize my house. My mom and sister are amazing decorators, cooks, and housekeepers. I'm not a bad cook, I just don't cook for crowds because I have to do it my own way, and people don't always understand my own way. So I'm left asking if I can just stir. My family will tell you it's my spiritual gift. Forget prophecy and shepherding. We need some really proficeint stirrers in the Kingdom. I AM THAT HERO!!

So it wasn't until the counselor told me to "only use my powers for good" that I started seeing the positive sides of my quirkiness. All the poor grades, the procrastination, the disorganization had a purpose. It was God's plan that my brain work the way it does. I do have to find other ways to have a pleasing household. I do need to be a good steward of my time, I just have to do it differently than others. But I was lovingly and precisely stitched together by God long before time began. He had a plan for my life, a plan not to harm me, but to prosper me. And you know what? I still can't figure out how people keep beds made or why we even bother, but I'm learing how to use my creative brain. I'm learning that the gift of laughter is good. I make people happy. I make people feel very normal and capable. I'm ok with that. I just need to figure out how to turn a profit so I can hire a cleaning lady. Although, Derek said if I ever made a million, he'd be my wife. He IS a good cook...

Thursday, November 03, 2005

Ridin' Fences (not what you think)

When I was a little girl, I would go horseback riding with my grandfather. He had a home in the country, a pasture in the city, and many different horses over the years. My first and last horse was Eagle. He lived to be the same age I am now. He died one month after my grandma did. I treasure those hours spent riding with Grandad. We had fun. I learned a lot about life, and about simplicity. About what it is to just...be. I remember one day it occurred to me that our horses were very big. Much bigger than I. I couldn't have been but 6 or so, and maybe just a few hands high. (Horse talk.) It was clear the horses weren't thrilled about having a piece of steel stuck in their mouths and then having a big leather saddle with a little rider on their backs. But every time, it was the same thing-Grandad sent me with the lead to bring in the horses we'd be riding, and they always went.

One day when we were riding fences (looking for breaks in the barbed wire where the cattle could escape onto the other ranchers land) I asked Grandad, "If the horses don't like us to ride them all the time, why don't they just throw us off and go home?"

"Well, I reckon" (that's what cowboys do, they 'reckon')"it's because they don't know they can."

"Why?" I asked.

"They think we're stronger."

This was too much for a little girl. Knowing that horses listen to the cowboys (they turn their ears back toward you when you talk) I told my little horse, "Runt-Runt, if you don't want me to ride you, why don't you just throw me off and run back to the barn?" Of course Runt-runt didn't. He just kept his little burden on his back and walked along beside Duke or Eagle, whoever Grandad was riding at the moment. A couple years later, Runt-runt was joined by a little paint named "Thunder" who had been mistreated. For the most part Thunder was a good boy, only one day he threw me, and learned what it meant to be chased down by a little red headed cowgirl with steam coming out her ears. It became my one focus to turn Thunder into a good saddle horse and to be obedient and accepting of his rider. It didn't take long!

Do you ever wonder why it is we so readily accept the burdens on our backs? We walk around with satan hounding us every moment and holding onto us with an unrelenting grip. Do you think it's because he knows...we don't know?

Don't we know that God has conquered death and hell? Don't we know that where we are weak, He is strong? Don't we know that satan's grip is tenuous at best? Don't we know that God holds all power over satan, and that we don't have to give in to him! We don't have to pack him around on our backs like beasts of burden, and yet here we are! Allowing him to control us, like a cowboy on a magnificent stallion! If only the horse knew! IF ONLY WE KNEW!!

Has satan convinced us he's stronger? I reckon!

Thursday, October 20, 2005

The Unbreakable Cousin Chain

When I was a kid, my aunt, uncle and 2 girl cousins lived about 1/2 mile away from us. Our families would get together with some frequency for dinner, and the adults would play trivial pursuit and the kids, all girls, would just play. It was me, my sister Jennifer, and my cousins Tarisa and Tamra.

We had quite imaginations at that age. As the oldest I felt the entertainment rested on my shoulders. We would get a tape recorder and sing songs on it, then make up a "flea circus" and use the tape recorder as the background music for fleas by pushing the play button half way down. We would sing songs that I swear my grandad made up and make no sense whatsoever. We would sing the songs our mothers sang together in their mixed quartet or ladies trio, and even try to harmonize. We did this with puppets we bought on our trip to Canada.

Sometimes we would argue and fight, but mostly we just played and had a good time. We were all within about 5 years of each other age wise. At the end of the evening, we could tell it was about time to go home...someone had won the last pie in trivial pursuit. All they had to do was answer the final question and then clean up. This was our signal to form "the unbreakable cousin chain". We would run to the double bed (four small girls fit quite nicely) and lay side by side, and then entwine our arms and legs so that no adult could break us apart. We were certain of the power of the chain, and knew that the adults probably wouldn't even try to seperate us, so formidable was its strength. We knew that if we kept our eyes closed and remained very quiet, the adults would think we were so precious sleeping, and they would allow us to spend the night together. The Chain was just a back up plan to make them think twice about trying to move us.

There were days that we actually fell asleep before the parents would get there. Then there were days where we had to fight back the giggles that threatened to give us away, but our parents didn't know, and they would say, "Oh, they're asleep. Let's just leave them like that." And as they pulled the door shut we would celebrate quietly with a whispered "Yes!" not knowing they were just on the other side of the door, giggling themselves.

I have great memories of my childhood. Today, we cousins and sisters are all spread apart, except for me and Tarisa. Together we still have the strong bond of family and when attacked fly into "Cousin Chain Formation" really quick. It isn't as strong without Jennifer and Tamra, but we still believe in its power!

Speaking of strength, I serve a Mighty God. I know what my strength amounts to, even wrapped up with my sister and two cousins, compared to our parents. I'm really not strong at all. But when I stand behind The One who created me, and let Him entwine Himself in and around me, no foe can come against me that He can't handle. My strength rests in Him, and in my obedience to Him. Not me. Never me. Always Him. Phil 4:13

Monday, October 17, 2005

I'm Blocked

I'm writing, but you need to know it's under duress. I don't have a thing to say, I'm bored, I'm upset about my schedule being changed at work, and I have to work tomorrow and Wednesday. They know I don't work Wednesdays. What's the deal? If they keep it up I may quit and go write a book and go on a book tour.

I don't know what I'm saying. I'm tired and stressed. It's been a fun day, but I should be looking forward to my day off. Whine, ungrateful one. I've been off 5 days in a row.

What did I do? Um...nothing productive, I can tell you that. Derek is sitting here beside me reading my e-votions that I e-mail and laughing, so that's kinda good, but I gotta go to bed now and get ready for work. (Not in that order.) No clean socks or unders.

Spiritual point? None. I could use one right about now though. I can't think of a better time to pick up my bible. Can you?

Thursday, October 06, 2005

Don't Miss It!

It was January 2000. The Sooners had won another National Championship and all of Oklahoma was proud. I thought I'd take the kids to Norman to welcome home the football team, and let them see the players up close, maybe get some autographs. So with my dearest friend Jana and two 'tweens in tow, off we went to God's country, Memorial Stadium.

When we got there, it took forever to park. There were fans everywhere. It was a little icy as we'd just had a nice snow, and the ground was wet and muddy. Oklahoma red mud. Slush. Yuk. We made it to the stadium to wait with everyone and decided to take a quick tour because the kids had never been to a game in person. We went inside the stadium because it was open. I've never seen Owen Field covered in snow. It was an amazing sight, and we stood reverently where Oklahoma's Beloved Heroes had walked.

Just then we heard cheering. The bus had arrived with the players! I wasn't sure where to go, but we made our way toward the growing roar. I made it to the gate with kids trailing me, and as I tried to get out, these guys were trying to get in. It hadn't dawned on me we were the only ones left here, and as we tried to push back thru this sudden flock of men trying to get in, I realized everyone was probably with the players and we might miss them, or be lost in such a huge crowd. I excused myself and pushed thru like a champion running back at a goal line stand (not totally rude, but I think I gained respect from guys who outsized me quite a bit) and we were finally free to run to...wait, the roar of the fans was...gone...but...HEY!!! Did I just push thru the entire Sooner Football Lineup?

And the answer was yes. I was so intent on getting to where I was going that I didn't realize I was already there, missing the opportunity of a lifetime. And how obvious was it that I was a tiny mite walking amongst giants? Talk about missing the forest!!!

We are seeking for something everyday. For peace, comfort and happiness at the root of everything. But we are usually looking in the wrong places-in money, power, sex, or food. None of these things can fulfill the deepest desires of our heart. They can buy us things, make us feel good temporarily, but none of it leads to true inner peace. If you haven't found Him yet, Christ is right there, waiting to grant you the truest desire of your heart.

Is He In you?

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Ambiance

I can't believe autumn is here! When I walked out of church this evening and the wind was blowing and the "cold" front had moved in, I was so excited! I have been willing summer over by baking and eating pumpkin pie, and I went to Starbuck's with my best friend Jana and I had a pumpkin cream frappacino. Venti. Now, I usually don't go to Starbuck's because I don't enjoy the ambiance. It's kind of a little too...I don't know...clean? commercial? I just like going to non-chain places where the refills are free, the baristas like their jobs and smile and don't flip out when you have a special order...but this time it was fine.

Among my favorite coffee shops in the city are the now closed Old Judge Coffee Co.; Uncommon Grounds in Bricktown (probably my favorite) and Wholly Grounds (great Christian artists playing occasionally). I like the atmosphere at Java Dave's but I hate that you don't get free refills on the plain coffee. Chain thing, I guess. I can't stand any place smoky, and if the crowd is too young, too hip, I kinda feel like a soccer mom in a CD store. So I go where I'm comfortable.

I also like a place with a good gift selection. Java Dave's is, so far, the best out there. Something about shopping while drinking the perfect cup of coffee is a great combination. And doesn't coffee just taste better out of a mug than paper or styrofoam cups? Panera is great, but, alas, no shopping. But the crowd is definitely older, the atmosphere casual, and the furniture comfortable.

I wonder what people say about our churches when they visit? Was the atmosphere warm and inviting? Were the members willing to reach out and meet special needs, or do they fumble around with cue cards and wonder how to fit in this "difference"? Do we have lots of extras to offer, or are we a hymn and a message and a prayer and thank you for coming, see ya next time?

I want to have the kind of church that, like a coffee shop, would release a sweet aroma as soon as the door opens, and the members are warm and caring and able to help those who visit, where we meet individual needs with out cookie cutter solutions. Where there's variety, service, the Spirit is evident, and when people leave, they can't wait to come back, and bring a friend.

For the most part that's true. But we have to make service a priority.

Never take for granted the spiritual condition of a visitor. Make them feel welcome. Love on them as Christ would and be ready to take an order you've never heard of before. In short, be Jesus to them!

Saturday, September 17, 2005

Coffee Snobs

I'm a coffee snob. Case in point:
If someone else made the coffee, it's probably not very good.
If it's in the orange handled carrafe, it's probably decaf and I'm not having it.
If I even think that someone may be re-using the old grounds...ouch, that hurts my brain!!
If there is a full pot of coffee left unattended I can assume it's old and throw it out and make fresh.
If you microwave coffee you're a freak. Go have tea.
I send Christmas and Valentine's cards to Juan Valdez and his donkey.
I like coffee in a mug. Not a cup.
Certain mugs have better tastes than others. (If it has a brown ring, even better...)
If you made me choose between coffee and chocolate my head would explode. That's like trying to choose between your kids.
I hate chocolate in my coffee. Wierd.

Know what happens when you leave a whole coffee bean in a cup of warm water and come back and check it in a few hours? You have a whole coffee bean in a cup of room temperature water.

The best kind of coffee is beans bought fresh, ground just before brewing with uncomfortably hot water, but never boiling, and is consumed within 10 minutes of brewing. That's what I know. You can't get coffee unless the process takes place.

The best kind of Christian is one who presents him/herself to God, whole, just as we are, and allows him/herself to be finely ground and washed over with the uncomfortably hot water of God's cleansing forgiveness. Only then do we produce the aroma and flavor we are meant to have. And only then are we pleasing to others. If we don't submit to God's process, we don't become the essence of what it is we were created to be. We are just whole beans floating around comfortably, missing the point, not fulfilling our purpose.

Where are you right now? Have you fought God's process? If so, submit to Him today, and see what He can do with a simple bean!!

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Feeding Frenzy

"I set out to conquer the world but I got distracted by something shiny." -unknown

Such good intentions I have. I want to do a good thing, or do a thing good, but then somewhere along the way I lose focus. Or burn out or something.

I was at work the other day-pay day. I love pay day, but this was a special pay day. I worked overtime one shift which means I get a $25 Wal-Mart card in addition to my pay check. Now, my salary is nothing to get excited about, but up next to a $25 gift card, the difference is huge. So why in the world do we all get so excited about that piece of plastic? Oh, I know, it's extra, it's free, it's a 1/4 tank of gas, but still! What about the money I'd worked so hard to earn? Funny.

Another day at work the doctors all got together and bought us lunch. A nice catered affair with plates and we got to sit down to eat. (Very unusual for nurses). But before lunch, one of the doctors brought a large shopping bag full of junk-drug rep gifts that convince us to prescribe their drugs more. Really it's mostly cheap plastic office gadgets and pens and sticky notes. But let me tell you-this stuff disappears faster than chocolate in an OB/GYN office. Nurses can hear free pens clacking on a counter from a mile away. And like sharks smelling blood in the water, here they come. I am one of them. We fight for the purple ones, offer our first-born for the metal ones, and if it has an unusual shape or novelty attraction, we would sell our souls for them. Really "feeding frenzy" is the best description that comes to mind.

You know, we're a lot like that in our Christian walk. We set out with such good intentions, only to be distracted by so much shiny plastic. What are we thinking? What is it about instant gratification that makes us forget what's ours? It's truly all sex, drugs, and rock and roll, and in the end it's worthless garbage.

So what's a Christian to do? God commands us to stay pure and focus. Stay strong. 2 Corinthians 4:1-2 says, "Therefore, since through God's mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart. Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God."

We press on. Keep our focus, and in doing so draw others to Christ.

Friday, September 09, 2005

Nurseheimers and other tales from the front lines

Oh, the things I have to do. People always tell nurses "I just don't see how you do it. It takes a special person." To which I graciously reply, "A monkey could do my job." Some days I'm convinced of this. Other days I think "No self respecting monkey...

Take today, for instance. A physical therapist put my patient on a bed pan. (I was too busy.) He was nice enough to tell me but not nice enough to do the good work of getting him off the thing. Don't worry-I remembered about 30 minutes later. Which is precisely the amount of time it takes to form a really good suction with your backside. I'm not joking-butt hickey! Yes, the whole thing. The poor guy was stuck to the pan like...ok, no metaphor comes to mind, but you know the sound of the jelly jar breaking the seal when you first open it? Kinda like that, but more like a cartoon plunger being pulled off someone's face. Not to mention the slop that came out of the thing with that much force behind it. (I dodged).

Later the doctor came to see the guy on his rounds, then came out and asked if I knew why his patient hadn't narry a stitch on his body. I went to the room, explaining that I'd just been in there 1/2 an hour ago, when lo and behold, there he lay with narry a stitch as previously reported by said doctor. I said, "Sir! What are you doing?!" (disbelieving look on my face). He replied, and I'm not kidding, "Laying here with shortness of breath and dementia, apparently." Funniest thing I've ever heard.

I need to come up with a spiritual point to this journal entry but for the life of me I can't think of one!

One of my favorite verses (especially for days like this) is "Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28.

"I'm heavy laden," I long to cry. Right now I'm happy and thankful to be home and warm and safe. I have a full weekend of peace and quiet and bill-paying to do. I'm thankful to be able to do that. Thank you, Jesus, for small blessings, silver linings, and a moment to catch my breath! Cari

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

168 seconds

Ever find yourself waiting on God's timing and thought maybe His clock was a little off? I know I have. If He would consult with me first, He would see that we could do things on Cari time and how happy would that make me? Actually, I've made it really evident that when we use my schedule, things aren't so good. God has to remind me frequently that I'm NOT the fourth member of the Trinity, and when I agreed to serve Him it was apparently not to be in an advisory capacity.

Still, it leaves me asking questions. Why would God wait? Why does He seem slow sometimes? Habakkuk asked this question in his book by the same name. Why was God allowing the evil ones to be evil? Why didn't He take control now? How long would God turn His face on our pain? Job tried to make excuses for God in his book (also same name) and Sarah laughed at God. (That would be in Genesis) Was God serious?

He answered them all. To Habakkuk he said to write His answer down on clay tablets so later Habakkuk could come back and read what God had anwered with out changing it. The first prayer journal! He said, "Though it linger, wait for it." With Job, in about Chapter 38 He said, "Now listen to what I have to say," and made it really clear who was in control. With Sarah in Genesis 18:13 God promised He would return at the right time.

So who are we to doubt His timing? It's perfect. It's for a reason. We can't see it with human eyes until much later. My aunt taught a conference session on Habakkuk and God's timing. She talked about going to the 1st anniversary of the Murrah Building Bombing in OKC. She knew that there would be 168 seconds of silence in honor of the ones who perished on that day, and that a bell would toll 168 times, one a second, for each of those whose lives were lost. She also knew that there would be jets flying low over them following the tolling of the bells, as a sign of respect to those who were left behind. As the seconds ticked by, and the tolling continued, she prayed. When it got to 150 she looked to the horizon for the Blue Angels to appear. At 160, with still no jets in sight, she thought that maybe they had forgotten...165...no jet...166...DING...DING..."

It wasn't until after the final bell tolled that she saw and heard the dramatic entrance of the Blue Angels, flying in perfect formation in perfect time. One second early would have dishonored the 168th vicim and her family. One second late would have distracted the participants and been out of place.

God has perfect timing. We may not understand it, but then we were never told we would. We may not even get it while we're here on this earth! One things for sure though. God's got it under control. He'll be here, right when He needs to be.