FAIR WEATHER FAN OR DIE HARD FAN?

St. Louis's beloved Cardinal's have made it into the World Series once again and, you can bet, Jack Buck's  infamous saying "go crazy folks, go crazy" has been said a time or two on the streets of this fine city since we secured our seat.  St. Louis is a baseball town-just ask any of us.   


Our family has season tickets.  I eagerly go to the "home opener" to watch the Clydesdales prance around the stadium and on and off again throughout the late spring and into the early summer.  Then, without fail, the St. Louis heat and humidity arrive and my game attendance starts to peter out.  Who's fooling who?  I'd rather watch the games from the comfort of my air conditioned home wearing my cute little red tee than to wilt in the scorching heat.  

As sure as there's a moon in the sky, post season baseball rolls around and, lo and behold, I've turned into a fanatic once again. I dig through my closet and pull out my fall Cardinal red attire.  Sweatshirts, long sleeved jerseys, scarves-you name it-I've got it.  Forget about all of those months where I hardly gave our team a second thought and never kept up with the stats.  I'm a fan once again. Okay, I begrudgingly confess, I'm no die hard fan.  Instead I'm a fair weather fan.  There, I said it.   I'm not proud. 

There's  another area in my life where I can become quite fickle.  When I can go from die hard fan to fair weather fan and back again quickly.  The times when things are going great and according to my plans is when I can become an all-out die hard Christ fan.  "Oh, Lord, you knew just what I needed -you are my Provider!"   Then there are the times when things aren't going according to my plan. Seasons when I'm being  corrected.  Times of difficulty and trials.   Areas He's stretching me, asking me to do things I don't want to do.  Taking me out of my comfort zone.  Unfortunately, these are the times I can easily slip into my fair weather fan mode.  "What are you thinking, Lord, you can't  ask me to do that?"

I have to choose to either be "all in" or "all out".  There's no straddling the fence with God.  Thankfully, He is a merciful God who is very patient with me.  He knows my heart and He sees that I am His #1 fan.  

"You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength. And these words which I command you today shall be in your heart." Deuteronomy 6:5-6

GO CRAZY FOLKS, GO CRAZY!!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ql6nTo_62gU

Hot Air Balloons, Tethers, and Christmas

Like a runaway hot air balloon are my thoughts most December mornings. Before I can even prepare my first cup of coffee, my Christmas to-do list unfolds before me. Bake cookies for the neighbors, wrap gifts, prepare the Christmas menu,  write out Christmas cards, find the perfect gift for Rich, get haircuts for the boys, and on and on my list goes. All of these things are doable when done in a calm and methodical fashion. However, the craziness of the season can make them seem overwhelming, especially to someone like me, a perfectionist at heart. My thoughts seem to float around in my head unchecked and unrestrained leaving me paralyzed to do anything worthwhile other than be anxious.

As I sit down in my quiet spot these mornings leading up to Christmas, I imagine my Heavenly Father as the sole member of my minds’ hot air balloon ground crew. He grabs the ropes of my mind and firmly and lovingly reins me back in. He quiets my heart and shows me His perspective of this holy season. He speaks softly to me, influences my mind and my emotions, and shows me what He sees from His throne in heaven.

I hear Him whisper, “Remember Mary”. When hearing the angels’ news that she would bear a son and the future Messiah, Mary simply responded “I am the Lord’s servant, and I am willing to accept what He wants.” (Luke 1:38) She waited for no in depth explanation, no bottom line, she had no “what’s in it for me” mentality. She simply said “yes” and obeyed. She graciously submitted to the will of the Father. My heavenly Father gently asks me “Do you do this Lynn?  Do you obey Me without knowing the outcome?”

I hear His still small voice say, ”Remember the shepherds”. God’s heavenly angelic messengers didn’t announce the birth of the Messiah to royalty or people of influence. Instead, God chose to proclaim the birth to the lowliest of the low-boys and men in the fields tending sheep. (Luke 2:8-20)  My heart quickens as I am reminded that I, too, was no one of spectacular importance yet my Abba Father chose to reveal His Son to me. Praise God-I once was blind, but now I see! 

I hear His soft voice say, “Remember the gifts of the Magi”. The wise men from the East brought gifts to worship the King. (Matthew 2:11,12) I am reminded that this season is about worshipping my Savior  and not about the material gifts I give or get or how pretty the wrapped boxes are that they come in.

I sense his Spirit in me telling me “Remember Immanuel-God with us.” I am amazed as He reminds me that it’s not “God with me some of the time”. It’s not “God with me when I’ve been good”. It’s God with me. Plain and simply- God with me always-24/7. 

I hear Him speak softly “Remember the Baby”. Jesus left the comfort of His home in heaven, took on flesh, and dwelt among us the fallen and corrupt.  “And so the Word became human and lived here on earth among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness.” (John 1:14) He came for me. He came to feel human feelings much the same way I do. He experienced loss, pain, disappointment.  He came so that He could understand and relate to me and that I can, likewise, relate to Him. I am overwhelmed that He willingly took on human flesh for me and for all mankind.

Lastly, I hear whisper encouragingly “Remember Simeon and Anna.” Filled with hope and enlightened by the Holy Spirit, they both waited for years, eagerly expected the Messiah to come and rescue their precious Israel. (Luke 2:25-32,36-38) I sense God asking me “What are you hoping for, Lynn? Do you believe that I can rescue you? He emphatically says to me “I can do all things. I keep My promises. I cannot lie”.

And so, my Father, God, quiets my heart and realigns my thoughts these December mornings.  He shows me the importance of this time of the year. It’s not about singing carols, it’s not about the decorations, it’s not about the sugar cookies, it’s not the gifts. It’s about Him, my Savior. I breathe this truth in and exhale it out.  I am now ready to walk out into my day. And, like a hot air balloon, my Heavenly Grounds Crewman, releases the tethers to my renewed thoughts and I go in the direction that He has prepared for me.

“For a child is born to us, a Son is given to us.  And the government will rest on His shoulders.  These will be His royal titles.  Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” ~Isaiah 9:6

BEAUTY FOR ASHES

I’m frequently searching for toys to keep my little shih tzu, Patrick Henry, entertained. His newest toy is a braided rope with knots on the end. He and I play a game with it daily. The game goes something like this: I throw rope, he retrieves rope, he runs back with rope firmly in mouth, he doesn’t let go of rope, I forcefully wrestle and pry rope out of mouth, I throw rope again, repeat.

All of this rope wrestling and prying reminds me of God’s promises. Now stay with me here and let me explain. When God promises us something, it’s important for us to hold on, and unlike Patrick, never let them go. 

I have a promise that I am holding onto for dear life. “To all who mourn in Israel,    He will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning,    festive praise instead of despair.” Isaiah 61:3a (NLT)

I recently lost my Mom and, quite frankly, I’m tired of ashes, mourning, and despair. I’m counting on God to come through with His promise of beauty, joy, and praise. He already has in many ways. The loss of my Mom has brought my father, siblings, and me closer to each other than ever before. I now spend a couple of days a week with my Dad and I’ve rediscovered the joy that the family farm gives me. I’ve begun talking candidly with my Dad about things I put off saying to my Mom like: “I’m so glad I’m your daughter” and “You’ve done an excellent job in raising me” and “I wouldn’t change a thing about my childhood” and “You know, Dad, God has plans for you”. 

The Bible is filled with numerous promises from our heavenly Father.  Promises that are ours and should never be wrestled or pried from us. So go on, open His Word, retrieve His promises, take them firmly in your heart, and hold onto them and never let go.

BE MY VALENTINE…An Invitation From My Father

The three sugar-hungry boys tore open the small pink and red boxes and let the contents pour out in front of them.  I watched the small candy hearts bounce and slide across the table.  Each boy made short work of devouring the little pastel wafers.  Before they would pop one in their mouths, each boy would call out the saying stamped on the front.  “Kiss Me”, “Hug Me”, “E-mail Me”, “Text Me”.

“Here, Mom, you can have these,” Lucas said as he slid a group of hearts across the table to me.  As I glanced down at them it was as if God, My Father, was right beside me speaking each stamped message aloud to me.  “Miss You”, “I’m Yours”, Be Mine”, “Love You”.

The past few months have been a season of change, transition, and just plain busyness for me. Not only are my son’s sports schedules becoming more and more time consuming, but the added pressure of teaching upper level homeschooling subjects and a part-time job for me have made me feel as if I’m being pulled in all directions.  Throw three very rambunctious, large motor boys into the mix, and, well, let’s just say that there isn’t much room for quiet in my house. 

My quiet time with Him had been feeling hurried and compacted to just a few short minutes.  When I did find the time to be still and quiet myself before Him, I was unfocused with what seemed like a bad case of A.D.D.  I felt like I was giving everything and everyone else my all and giving Him my left-overs.

Who knew that four candy hearts staring up at me could speak right to me loud and clear.   If God can use people and situations as divine appointments, why not four little candy wafers?

“Miss You”   He  whispered.  “Return to Me,” says the Lord of hosts, “and I will return to you,” says the Lord of hosts.” (Zech 1:3)

“I’m Yours”  He reminded me.  “The LORD is like a father to his children, tender and compassionate.” (Ps 103:13)

“Be Mine”   He said invitingly.  “Listen to the LORD who created you.  O Israel, the one who formed you says, “Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you.  I have called you by name; you are mine.” (Isaiah 43:1)

“Love You”  He said clearly.  “And may you have the power to understand  how long, how high, and how deep his love is.  May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God.” (Eph. 3:18-19).

                I thank God that He knows me so well and intimately.  He is patient with me.  He knows my weaknesses and where I fall short.  He knows my dreams and my desires.  He has plans for me.  I truly am His Valentine and He is mine.

Where Else Would I Go?

I came across something in an antique store the other day that brought a smile to my face.  There, tucked away in a corner, was a boxy red, white, and blue American flag- emblazoned suitcase straight out of the 70's.  I had one just like it when I was a little girl.   I loved (seems like a strong word for an inanimate object but it's true) that suitcase .  As a child, our family  never took many trips, so I can't even remember officially using it.  To this day I can still remember where it sat in my room.  I never put it in a closet or under my bed.  It sat out for all to see. 
I do recall using that retro "blast from the past" piece of luggage one time though.  It wasn't packed for a vacation, a summer camp, or a stay at Grandma's or anything of the sort.  This time it was packed because I was running away from home.  Yep, I was ticked, fed up with my 1970's life, and ready to hit the road.   I can still remember throwing some clothes and my Mrs. Beasley doll in my suitcase and taking off walking down our dirt road. I must have looked quite the sight with my Shirley Partridge shag haircut and bellbottom pants stomping off in the direction of the highway. I'm sure I was belly-aching the whole way, complaining about how life wasn't fair and that I'd be better off if I lived somewhere else (you know-the grass is always greener mentality). 
I didn't get very far when it dawned on me that I really had no other place to go.  I had no one that could take care of me quite the way my parents could.  No one that would feed me and to keep me safe.  No one that would watch over me when I was scared.  No one that would help me make acceptable choices.  No one that would steer me in the right direction.  My parents did all of these things and I realized that I'd be lost without them.
As you probably already figured out, I turned around and walked right back home that day.  I knew I couldn't make it on my own and I really didn't, deep down inside, want to try it anyway.
I'd like to say that I've come a long way since those "running away" days, but there are still times when I want to pack my bags and escape.  Times, when I've asked Him for relief from an annoying situation and He doesn't give it to me because He's growing my character.  Times when I've prayed for someone who is sick and He doesn't heal them because His ways and His understanding are higher than mine. Times when I've prayed about the peer pressure my oldest sons are going through and he doesn't answer me immediately because His timing is perfect and mine is not.
Each seemingly unanswered prayer doesn't really make me want to pack my bags and hit the road.  Where would I go?  I've been through life without Him and, let me tell you, it stinks.  I lived a defeated life, an "insecure about who I was" life, and a life with no purpose for way too long, and it got me nowhere.  
Once I met Him, I was forever changed.  I realized that no one can take care of me like He can. No one can feed me (He is the Bread of Life) and keep me safe like He can. No one can watch over me when I'm scared like He can. No one can help me make acceptable choices or steer me in the right direction like He can.  He does all of these things plus millions more and I would be lost without Him. 

Then Jesus turned to the twelve and asked, "Are you gong to leave me, too?"  Simon Peter replied, "Lord, to whom would we go? You alone have the words that give eternal life. We believe them, and we know You are the Holy One of God." John 6:67-69 (NLT)

A "Diving Right In" or "Just Dabbling" Kind of Life?

"An excessive heat warning is being issued for the St. Louis area. Expect a record high of 98 today with searing high humidity and a heat index of 102," I heard the TV weatherman announce one recent morning.  Welcome to good 'ole Missouri summer weather.  It's when I hear weather reports like this that I'm so grateful for our backyard swimming pool.
The boys dig out their swimming trunks from their dressers and I freshly launder their beachtowels sometime in March in preperation for "opening day".  Come late April it's time to peel back the pool cover and see what creatures have taken up residency in the murky water.  Once we've shocked the water and it's a normal aqua blue color once again it's time for someone to take the ceremonial "first dive".  The someone usually turns out to be my youngest son, Joseph.  He'll climb onto the diving board while his big brothers chant "Joe! Joe! Joe!".  Then he'll take a deep breath, run, bounce on the end, and then heroically dive into the extra chilly water.  From that day on until late September there's usually at least one or two people in the pool each day splashing around.
As opposed to my amphibious-like boys, I take my good sweet time getting in the pool.  My pool entering criteria is quite specific. The water usually has to be a very comfortable 86 degrees, the sun has to be out with few clouds in the sky, there can only be a slight or, better yet, no breeze in the air.  As you can tell, my list of conditions has to be near perfect. 
When I do finally get in, it's usually to float on a raft and sunbathe.  My tanning routine goes something like this-thirty minutes on my tummy, flip over,thirty minutes on my back and then I repeat; all the while making sure that I don't get my hair wet in the process. 
My unadventurous and calculable pool habits drive my boys crazy.  "Come on, Mom, dive in!", "Play Marco Polo with us, Mom", "Let's have a diving contest, Mom" are just some of their many aquatic invitations.  "Maybe another day, guys," or "I don't want to get my hair wet, fellas," I may respond.
The boys play and have a blast while Mom lays out was all pretty much the standard swimming pool routine until recently.  Not too long ago one of my kids, I'm not sure which one, said something pretty profound that made me change my stubborn predictable pool ways.  He said, "Mom, how will you know you won't have a blast until you dive right in?  You never know, you might like it." 
To most people that may not sound like a profound statement, but it was to me.  Let me explain.  I'm a very predictable person.  A steady-as-you-go, creature of habit kind of lady that likes to have both her feet on the ground and avoids anything remotely dangerous or adventurous.  Sticking to a routine and not veering from it is how I operate. 
This comment could have been spoken from the lips of my heavenly Father instead of from one of my kids as far as I'm concerned.  I think sometimes God uses innocent words from children to teach us lessons.  He did for me that day.  It was as if He was the One in the water beckoning me to "dive right in" and experience things like never before.  To dive into things in life that aren't always predictable.  Things that I need to trust Him with.  Things that I'll never experience until I try them.  It was as if He was telling me that I can't put Him and His ways in a neat little box.  That I can't even imagine His greatness and His power.  That I can't control Him and manipulate my surroundings to my liking.  That I don't have to wait for perfect conditions to experience Him.  That I could go around the pool of this thing we call "Life", only dabbling  my feet into the water or I could experience Him completely and wholeheartedly taking risks along the way knowing that He has everything and, I mean everything, under control.
I wonder how many of you out there reading this are like me.  There's bound to be a few of you.  What do you say, do you want to take a chance and dive right into the water of Life with me?  There's safety there.  In the words of my son, "You never know you might like it." 
Marco?  Polo....Marco?  Polo....

Jesus replied, “If you only knew the gift God has for you and who you are speaking to, you would ask me, and I would give you living water.” John 4:10

The Soft Side of a Tough Kid

Today I got to do something that I'd been looking forward to all week.  Oh, I gave the impression on the outside that I was enjoying my freedom and in no hurry to be once again burdened, but it was just a facade.  On the inside I was counting the minutes to the reunion.  It had felt like a chunk of my heart was missing all week and this morning I got a part of that piece back. What am I rambling on about ? Today I picked up my youngest son, Joseph, from camp.  
I was determined to not to shed a tear once I spotted him.  I didn't want to embarrass him in front of his new friends or risk putting a dent in his "tough guy" image. For the most part I held it together as I nonchalantly said, "Hey, Joe, what's up?"  No hugs were exchanged.  No sloppy kisses given.  How clever of me.  On the inside every bit of me was screaming, "I've missed you like crazy, Joseph. I've been thinking about you from the minute you left!"   I did it. I stayed strong and held my emotions in check.
The closing ceremonies at the camp were wonderful as usual.  There was a buzz of excitement in the air the entire time.   The kids' passionate behavior during the ceremony was infectious and I had the "if only I was a kid again" feeling the entire time. 
It wasn't until Joe and I were on our way home that I finally asked him to tell me about camp. After the standard "it was great" answer, he opened up to me further by telling me his favorite activities, favorite food, and favorite new friend. This dialogue went on for quite some time when, all of a sudden, he paused mid-sentence and said, with a catch in his throat, "Mom, I really missed you."  This was quickly followed by "and I love you a lot." Gasp!  You could have blown me over with a feather.  This comment came from my son who is usually very hard-as-nails tough.  From my son who lives up to the position he plays in hockey-an unyielding rough and tough defenseman. From my son who can, at times, rub me the wrong way.  From my son who if I say something is black will come back insisting that it's really white instead.  This strong-willed son said he missed me and that he loved me! Don't get me wrong-Joe has told me that he loves me many times, but it was his vulnerable confession in this quiet moment that was so precious and meant the world to me.
We took our time during our mother-son drive back home; stopping to have lunch and refuel.  Every now and then we'd pull off when we'd spot an exit that advertised a nearby antique mall (all of my kids love to antique shop with me).
It wasn't until Joe fell asleep about an hour from home that I got to quietly reflect on his "I missed you" and "I love you" words.  You see, I've always been a little hard on myself in the motherhood department. I've wished that I was a better mother. I've wished that I was more patient with my kids. I've wished that I was more understanding and more grace-filled towards them.  Before today, my "wish-list" seemed endless.  Until Joe spoke those words.  Those words gave me hope.  They encouraged me.  Maybe I'm not doing such a bad job afterall.  Maybe I'm impacting my boys in ways I didn't know.  Maybe, just maybe, I'm doing an okay job. 
It was then that I heard my heavenly Father speak gently to my heart and say "I told you so, Lynn. I've believed in you the whole time. I knew that you were cut out for this job.  You won't always be perfect, but you're the one I want for this special job. I planned it this way."
Next weekend I pick up my oldest sons from camp.  I'm not sure what their reponse will be when they see me.  Will they  hug me?  Will they give me kisses?  Will they say "I've missed you, Mom?"  I don't care.  I'm okay with whatever they say or do because today I got my confirmation from my heavenly Father above and that's all that really matters.  

"Children are a gift from the LORD; they are a reward from Him." ~Psalm 127:3

***Check out this video...it really has nothing to do with the topic of this blog entry, but it kind of reminds me of what I (and most mothers in general) would do with my children in the same situation.***