Christmas Lights

I love 7:05 on a weekday morning. The first wave of school buses have faithfully picked up the high school kids, the ambitious, overly caffeinated have raced off to work before dawn, and a short window of stillness descends upon the neighborhood. Often as I can I’ll seize this opportunity to take a quick walk.

There is something about walking in the dark. Besides the fact that my neighbors are spared the sight of me in my X-box pajama pants, no-makeup and pre-shower hair, the time just before sunrise offers other advantages. The blanket of black sky begins to give way to a pinkish orange horizon, yet the stars still shine as brightly as if it were midnight. This time of year, the scenery is even further enhanced by the display of Christmas lights covering trees, bushes, doorways and more.

Now I’m not suggesting that those homes without lights have been neglectful. Believe me, I could certainly live without the whole “You’re kidding, none of last year’s lights work?”…”Kids, don’t step on those”…”Josh, take the lights out of the cat’s mouth” scene.

It is just that the prominence of Christmas lights along the street is so noticeable that those homes without any lights are actually the ones which stand out. I’m almost shocked by the difference. The unlit homes reflect almost a cold, sad,empty feeling.

It seems to me that people are the same way. There is an undeniable light inside those who know God. Even when their days look dark, the light within them can’t be denied. This is a very real light, and it came to us about 2000 years ago.

The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world. (John 1:9)
When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." (John 8:12)

This season, in addition to enjoying the beautiful Christmas lights, maybe we can remember to ask the One Who longs to give His light to all men to make Himself known to those in our lives who don’t know Him.

Shepherds, please share ways you are praying, petitions you are asking, on behalf of those in your lives this Christmas who don’t know the Light of the World.

Making Room

My sister-in-law pulled out all the stops for Thanksgiving this year.

As her many siblings with families-in-tow descended upon her home, she flung the door open wide and welcomed us warmly. Our particular family was thoughtful enough to arrive several hours early, just in time for lunch. Cindy would not be daunted. More proficient than a short-order cook, we were feasting on grilled ham and cheese sandwiches in no time.

Cindy had clearly been preparing for us for days. The house was so clean it looked and smelled like new. While she allowed everyone to contribute to the Thanksgiving meal, she did all the hard stuff -- turkey, gravy, potatoes, stuffing, and homemade pie. As we sat on our duffs, she kept moving. When she wasn’t washing linens, she was organizing card games and movies to entertain her fussy guests. She also planned activities for the children.

Cindy raised the bar for me for Christmas. I’m now working feverishly to have things perfect around here.

A friend told me yesterday that she has organized her time from now til Christmas, carefully assigning every task to a specific day. This way she has made room in her schedule to accomplish all that needs doing in an organized fashion.

I’ve made room too. Room in my home for overnight guests and room in my freezer for an 18 pound turkey. But I need to clear a bit more room. The timeless Christmas carol, Joy to the World, reminds us to “Let every heart prepare Him room…”. So I’m trying to be intentional every day to make room for Christ.

A.W. Tozer reminds us that God has already made room and is waiting for us…

God meant us to see Him and live with Him and draw our life from His smile. He wills that we should push on into His Presence and live our whole life there.

A.W.Tozer, The Pursuit of God

I know I will be stressed for the next few weeks. After all, I'm a woman, and it's Christmas. But I have begun to calm down, and I'm thinking it has to do with my making room every day for Jesus.

Shepherds, please share with each other ideas on how you might be making room this season for Christ.

Puzzling

I began working on a 500 piece puzzle yesterday.

Now, a measly 500 pieces may not sound all that impressive, but bear in mind this is a small, 3-D, 500 piece puzzle of the solar system, containing very little variation in color. Equipped with full strength reading glasses, the task still felt a bit daunting.

Puzzles are fickle. Just when you want to throw them across the room for having searched and searched for a matching piece, viola!, that piece shows up, invigorating you with a fresh dose of ambition to look for the next illusive piece.


I must admit that in my impatience, I tried several times to fit a puzzle piece where it didn’t belong. It looked mighty close, and I barely had to push to make it fit. But I knew it didn’t fit, I was simply fooling myself. In other words, I wanted to do the puzzle, I just didn't want to take the time to do it right.

I do the same thing with God sometimes. I know the proven way for me to feel the closeness and assurance of my Fathers intimate presence in my life is to spend time with Him. To be quiet, to be still, and to listen.

Too often I’d prefer the quick and easy way, to listen to a speaker, read a quick book, or even sing a song or two. But then, I am only riding on the coat tails of the experience of someone else, rather than allowing God to enter my own experience with Him.

In her book, Strengthening the Soul of your leadership, Ruth Haley Barton says the following…

One of the things I know for sure is that those who are looking to us for spiritual sustenance need us first and foremost to be spiritual seekers ourselves. They need us to keep searching for the bread of life that feeds our own souls so that we can guide them to places of sustenance for their own souls. Then, rather than offering the cold stone of past devotionals, regurgitated apologetics or someone else’s musing about the spiritual life, we will have bread to offer that is warm from the oven of our intimacy with God.

The way I figure it, just like my puzzle, I can pursue God hurriedly and get it wrong, or I can set aside time to seek Him well, which promises the much sweeter reward.

Shepherds, please share your favorite ways of spending time with God.

Clifty Falls

We spent a few days down at Clifty Falls in southern Indiana last weekend.

After reluctantly waking early Thursday morning and throwing a change of clothes in a suitcase, we hit the road. I wasn’t particularly surprised to hear our 6th grader, in typical pre-adolescent dialect, tactfully surmise from the back seat of the car, “So…this really isn’t supposed to be a fun vacation, right?”


He may have a bit of his mother in him. I’m not much of a camper, really not an outdoorsy type at all. But it seemed only right that over Fall Break we should take in the ambiance of Fall -- and Fall means colorful leaves. So since colorful leaves are abundant in state parks, to a state park we would go. (I suppose sitting in the backyard would have been more convenient, Clifty Falls doesn’t have the monopoly on colorful leaves, but getting away from the distractions of home sounded good.)

The only problem with planning a 2 day trip to a state park to enjoy the outdoors is that if the weather chooses not to cooperate, you are really spending 2 days inside a motel room, watching the weather channel and the Monk marathon.

Not to be daunted by the rain, my husband led the charge. We hiked up and down pieces and parts of Trails 1 – 9, each marked either “rugged” or “very rugged” on the map, (which tends to discourage the not so outdoorsy, rather arthritic hiker.)

I must admit, I am glad Steve pushed us toward hiking. We did see an abundance of leaves, but even better, I learned why it is called Clifty Falls. Turns out there are a number of waterfalls in the park. Who knew?

The first day, with only a persistent drizzle, we made our way to the north end of the park to take in the mightiest fall of all, Old Clifty himself. It was impressive.

The rain kicked in around midnight, and promised to continue throughout the entire next day, dampening any of my ambitions of further rugged and very rugged trail hiking. Rats. Guess we would have to simply enjoy a leisurely breakfast with never ending coffee, warm waffles and bacon and then make our way home.

Imagine my surprise when our 6th grader, realizing it had been raining all night, bounded out of bed, threw on his muddy shoes, and hurried us quickly right back to Clifty Falls. He seemed to suspect something, and his intuition was right. That waterfall looked and sounded nothing like the Clifty we’d seen the day before. What had been a gentle, trickling flow of water had suddenly become a raging, roaring force of nature that literally took our breath away.

That made me think. Having tasted the sweetness of knowing the Lord, I often allow my relationship with Him to be little more than a quiet certainty in my life. But just like Clifty after the rain, we can know an abundant, never ceasing, vibrant relationship with our Father. We just need to take the time to get there.

What a broad world to roam in, what a sea to swim in is this God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. A.W. Tozer

All our lives long we might talk of Jesus, and yet we should never come to an end of the sweet things that might be said of Him. Eternity will not be long enough to learn all He is, or to praise Him for all He has done, but then, that matters not; for we shall always be with Him…and desire nothing more.

Frederick Faber

Shepherds, please share in a post below ways you maintain a vibrant relationship with God.

America's Next Top Model

I was hijacked Saturday afternoon by Reality TV.

In my defense, it had been a rigorous few days, everyone in the house was occupied, and I was just plain tired. My fatigue led me toward the softness of a warm afghan, several gooey chocolate brownies, and an episode or 2 of Americas’ Next Top Model.

I caught the season finale, where the number of perfectly chiseled beauties had been whittled away over several months; with only a handful of exquisite young ladies left standing. In spite of their flawless figures, skin, smiles and photogenic perfection, only one would be named as America’s Next Top Model.

At that fateful moment when the winner was announced, I was struck more by the reaction of the first runner-up than the winner. She was aghast, angry, and practically sobbing at her loss.

I realize this was a competition and she had her eye on the prize, but come on! Really? Is it that horrible to be named the 2nd most poised, lovely, graceful beauty in the modeling world? From my couch, with brownie crumbs on my chin, hair in severe need of root touch up, and those darn 20 extra pounds, I’d have taken 2nd place.

Hmmm. This world of ours has sure done a number on our perspective toward achievement. Unless we are more successful than the other guy, (and there is always another guy), we are simply unsuccessful.

As Christians, we may have the tendency to measure our success in the same way. But listen to what A.W. Tozer says…

The one who is elated by success and cast down by failure is still following the success of this world.

At best her fruit will have a worm in it.

God will allow His servant to succeed when she has learned that success does not make her dearer to God nor more valuable in the total scheme of things. (paraphrased, Born After Midnight, 59.)

A good friend reminded me this morning that God’s will really encompasses just two things…that I love Him with all of my heart, soul, mind and strength, and that I love others as myself.

The world can keep her trophies and accolades. I’d rather be successful in my Father’s eyes.

Shepherds, please share with each other what it is you do that you think is pleasing to God.

Visitors

I had some guests this past weekend. VIP’s. My daughter and her boyfriend came home from IU for a visit.

I haven’t seen Lisa since August, so mentioning that I was looking forward to seeing her would be a gross understatement.

To celebrate her arrival, I kicked it into mom-mode, maid-mode, chef-mode, and any other mode that might help me get everything ready. I bought Lis her favorite lunch from Buffalo Wild Wings, loaded the frig with a few of her favorite recipes, scoured the house, and did a mountain of laundry in order to free up the washing machine so I could do her laundry when it arrived.

While she was sweet to thank me, I don’t think any of my efforts really impacted her one way or another. More than anything else, she seemed to appreciate the times we spent talking, laughing, and watching a movie together.

I tend to overdo. Endeavoring to please others and God, it is sometimes the simple thing, not the extravagant display which means more. Taking a minute to write a note or make a phone call usually has much greater impact than inviting 12 women to a 3 course meal around a perfectly decorated table. Responding to God’s nudge to take a walk with Him, journal and spend time in prayer must at least hold equal value to the times when I’ve spent hours in expository study of a biblical doctrine.


Shepherds, what is the simple thing that you could do today that would make a difference, either in your walk with God, or relationship with another?

A Broken Heart

This past week, I hurt someone I care about.

In a vulnerable moment, my preadolescent son shared with me the name of the new beauty in middle school with “almond eyes, silky hair and perfect skin” whom he had begun admiring from afar.

In an absent-minded moment, my son’s entrusted secret escaped my lips before I could reign it in. I shared his very private news with my neighbor.

Though my son said nothing and did a masterful job at playing it cool, I knew at once that I had crushed him. I would rather die than hurt him, but hurt him I had. And worst, I might have jeopardized the wonderful trust that exists between him and me.

As soon as we had a moment alone, I began to ask his forgiveness. Though hurt, he was quick to forgive. I wasn’t willing to let myself off the hook so easily, and spent the rest of the evening ostracizing myself for letting him down. I apologized more times than I could count, until finally, Josh said, “Mom, it’s over. I’ve forgiven you! Forget about it!”

Why is it that we hold onto our failings and sin so much longer than we need to? Just like Josh, our Father stands ready to forgive and embrace us. Unfortunately, we’d often rather cower in the corner, unwilling to fully receive His grace.

A.W. Tozer had something to say about this…

Brother Lawrence expressed the highest moral wisdom when he testified that if he stumbled and fell he turned at once to God and said, "O Lord, this is what You may expect of me if You leave me to myself."

He then accepted forgiveness, thanked God and gave himself no further concern about the matter. The Warfare of the Spirit, pp. 102-104

I can’t get over the grace of a young boy toward his loose-tongued mom. If only I could fully grasp that same type of grace extended to me by my Father, gratefully receive His forgiveness and move on!

Shepherds, will you share with each other how you work toward restoration with God when you have walked away from Him?

Our mouse

We have a mouse in our house.

At least we did; there hasn’t been any sign of him for a few days.

Our cat was the one who brought this happy news to our attention. Poised like a furry statue over my husband’s briefcase at 6:00 one morning, Ollie was not to be disturbed from her steely, frozen gaze. She was stalking something, and no amount of petting or cajoling would pull her from her post.

I wasn’t alarmed. Ollie is regularly mesmerized by things… a tiny bug, and more often than not, her own shadow. So I continued frying bacon and unloading the dishwasher, until all chaos commenced. Ollie pounced, and the mouse broke free of his hiding place, finding refuge behind a backpack in the corner of the kitchen.

I have no illusions of being anything but a “girly-girl”, but my response surprised even me. Screaming at the top of my lungs, I attempted to hoist myself up on the island in the kitchen. Unfortunately, the last pull-up, bench-pressing or hoisting this body has seen has been at least 20 years and 30 pounds ago. I immediately felt a sharp pain cutting through my sternum. Can you break a sternum? I know you can at least strain one, because mine is still sore.

Amid the chaos, the mouse escaped, and we’ve not seen him since.

The irony is that only weeks ago my 101 year old grandmother had a mouse in her home. After the mouse had found the poison left for him by the exterminator, he very respectfully died, positioning himself on the floor of my grandmother’s bedroom. She awoke to find him in the middle of the night and without a thought, swept him into a shoebox and slipped him out into the hall of her apartment.

The difference between my grandmother and me, is that while I fretted and talked about the mouse, she simply took care of it, she did what needed doing.

I’m afraid my walk with God resembles my behavior with the mouse. Over the years I have come to know some of God’s Word and His ways. I sometimes know what needs to be done to grow closer to Him, to be more like Him, and to love others better. But too often, rather than doing what I know I should do, I only think, fret, and talk about what I should do.

Theological facts are like the altar of Elijah on Carmel before the fire came, correct, properly laid out, but altogether cold. When the heart makes the ultimate surrender, the fire falls and true facts are transmuted into spiritual truth that transforms, enlightens, sanctifies. A W Tozer, That Incredible Christian, 92-94

.

May I find the courage of my grandmother, to figure out what needs doing, and then do it!

Shepherds, how do you find the strength to move from knowing what to do, to doing it?

Those Noisy Birds

I was looking for quiet on Sunday afternoon.

Wanting to escape the noise of the dishwasher, laundry machine and one of the many football games being broadcast in our living room, I decided to step outside for a moment of silence.

Best laid plans. I don’t know if you’re much of a bird watcher, but you don’t have to be an expert to notice that the birds are certainly on the move these days. It’s migration time. According to one article, thousands of birds will choose a stopover point no bigger than a few hundred square feet to rest during their long journey.

Sunday’s rest stop was in my backyard. The woods just 20 feet behind my house were filled with chatty, busy birds. As if the noisy chorus wasn’t deafening enough, add to it the percussion of walnuts thudding to ground under the weight of the countless birds. My backyard made Lucas Oil Stadium seem like a monastery retreat.

Amid the frenetic chaos, I was struck with a thought. These birds were in complete unity. They seemed to have decided together when, where, and how long to stop during their thousand mile journey. I didn’t notice any of them trying to thwart the plan; they miraculously all seemed to know their purpose and how to go about accomplishing it.

The birds seem to have figured out something so easily forgotten. Unity is important to God.

Ephesians 4:3 says the following:

Always keep yourselves united in the Holy Spirit, and bind yourselves together with peace.

A W Tozer reminds us that this unity is best accomplished as we individually are tuned to God.
"If a hundred pianos were merely tuned to each other, their pitch would not be very accurate. But if they were all tuned to one tuning fork, they would automatically be tuned to each other".

Those birds all seemed to have been in tune with their Creator last Sunday. They worked together, and all went about accomplishing their mighty feat of migrating thousands of miles.

As Shepherds, will you share a time when you experienced the strength and joy of unity when you and others were all in tune with God?

Quiet Please

I haven’t golfed for over 20 years, but this past weekend, if you’ll pardon the pun, I gave it a shot.

Golfing just felt right this Sunday. The weather was perfect and the crowd non-existent. (This may have something to do with the fact that the Colts kicked off right about the time I teed off.)

Walking onto the first fairway, I soon remembered why I love the game. With the green carpet stretching out before me and the blue canopy of sky overhead, I was struck with the peace and quiet. All was still, save the occasional sound of a ball being well hit, or plopping politely if it found the water.

Ironically, not far into the game, I managed to sabotage the afternoon. Thinking I actually knew what I was talking about, I began offering every possible instruction to my family with regard to golf etiquette, the appropriate club choice for each shot, the certainty that the obviously flawed direction of my husband’s feet or placement of my son’s grip would be the ruin of their shot, blah, blah, blah…

Our peaceful, afternoon was shattered by the lecturing of yours truly.

Why is it that I tend to be my own worst enemy when it comes to enjoying quiet? Setting out on a morning walk with every intention of spending time with God, I usually fill most of the quiet with my own voice in prayer requests. Rather than being still before God, I talk, talk, talk, and miss everything I might have learned from Him if I’d only kept quiet.

Ruth Haley Barton, the author of Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership, cautions,
“The discipline of solitude is a key discipline for all those who seek afer God. It is the primary place where the leader’s soul is strengthened.

And A. W. Tozer gets practical…

It is important that we get still to wait on God. And it is best that we get alone, preferably with our Bible outspread before us. Then if we will, we may draw near to God and begin to hear Him speak to us in our hearts. I think for the average person the progression will be something like this: First a sound as of a Presence walking in the garden. Then a voice, more intelligible, but still far from clear. Then the happy moment when the Spirit begins to illuminate the Scriptures, and that which had been only a sound, or at best a voice, now becomes an intelligible word, warm and intimate and clear as the word of a dear friend. Then will come life and light, and best of all, ability to see and rest in and embrace Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord and All.

A.W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God, the Speaking Voice

Shepherds, will you share with each other the ways you make room for solitude with God in the posts below?

Change

Some deal better than others with change.

I had a college roommate who used to say, “I eat change for breakfast.” I’m not really sure what that means, but if we are keeping with her food metaphor, I see change more as a lima bean, something to be avoided, or at least hidden under a napkin.

Lately I am finding myself overwhelmed by all the change in my life. Because my appetite for change is practically nonexistent, I feel a little paralyzed. Rather than dive in and navigate new adventure headed my way, I’m more prone to shut down and spend my time remembering what life was like, “before.”

Change is a fickle fellow. Sometimes it is wonderful, as it has been with those of you who have had new babies this summer, gotten engaged, moved to a new home or found a new job. Other times it is incredibly difficult; as some of you have experienced these past weeks when you sent a child to a new school, maybe even moved them off to college, or even said goodbye to a precious loved one as God slipped them into eternity.

Looking up this morning as I drove to work gave me a sweet reminder. The perfect day revealed one of the bluest skies I’ve seen. I realized that I was looking at the same blue sky that God stretched out as a curtain way back at creation. It hasn’t gone away. It still expands over the world for every eye to see. Everyday.

And if the work of God’s hands doesn’t change, neither does the Creator Himself.

The following psalm has been a soothing balm to my anxious heart lately as I have been facing change…

Yet I still belong to you; you are holding my right hand.

You will keep on guiding me with your counsel, leading me to a glorious destiny.

Whom have I in heaven but you? I desire you more than anything on earth.

My health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak, but God remains the strength of my heart; he is mine forever. (Psalm 73:23 – 26 New Living Translation)

Will you share with other Women of Grace Shepherds your best practices for facing the continual change that life brings?

Downhill at 50

Turning 50 a few weeks ago seems to have cost me a few brain cells.

Honestly, I’m quite used to the fact that I am forgetting things…putting the milk in the pantry and cereal in the fridge, dialing up the number of a close friend only to find myself surprised to hear her voice as I’d somehow forgotten who I’d called…

But this past weekend I took this middle-age thing a tad too far. My memory wasn’t the problem, it was my judgment.

Wrapping up a late night of July 3rd, neighborhood, cul-de-sac fireworks, my family headed for home. With a bicycle, Power Wing, lawn chair and fireworks to manage, I magnanimously offered to help by riding the Power Wing home…in the dark…down a decent sized hill, (later to be named “Suicide Valley” by my son).

Power-wing: “cousin to the skateboard, equipped with handle bar and 2 wings designed to increase speed…”

The slow decline was soothing, allowing a gentle breeze to brush my face as I sailed leisurely down the tarmac.

But with little warning, things changed. My speed quickly accelerated, and this gentle slope soon became a death drop, down which I began to hurtle out of control.

I really don’t remember the next painful moments, but Josh assured me it was horrible to witness. “Mom! You did a faceplant double-roll right down the street!”

True that. Whatever I did, that pavement couldn’t have been harder, or my velocity more intense. The right side of my body took the worst of it, including my arm, elbow, wrist, ankle and hip. I haven’t had any X-rays yet, but since the swelling and pain is still refusing to go away, I’m becoming more open to the idea.

My trip down Suicide Valley was the perfect metaphor of how effortlessly I seem to slip into sin. I start slowly enough, so casually that I have little or no idea that I am on a dangerous path. But before I know it, I have accelerated into a downward spiral, finding myself at a point of no return, at least not without a good amount of damage awaiting me.

Listen to what A.W. Tozer says about sin...

Sin, in addition to anything else it may be, is always an act of wrong judgment.
To commit a sin a man must for the moment believe that things are different from
what they really are; he must ignore the signs on the highway and drive with his
eyes shut …
No act is wise that ignores remote consequences, and sin always
does. Sin sees only today, or at most tomorrow; never the day after tomorrow,
next month or next year. A.W. Tozer, The Dwelling Place of God

I won’t be riding any Power Wings in the near future. I’m also hoping I to stay clear of those other dangerous paths which promise excitement, but will eventually end in pain.

Shepherds, what is your best practice to avoid a slippery slope toward sin?

Challenge Baseball

This past Saturday morning was one of my favorite days.

It began with the ugly task of rousing an eleven year old boy out of bed for an early obligation. But after digging through drawers to find the right baseball jersey and stuffing a couple of powder doughnuts down him, Josh began to rally.

This was the morning my son's baseball team had volunteered to come alongside a Challenge Baseball League. Children anywhere from six years old to teenagers, facing challenges from the mildest of autism to the inability to walk, hear or talk, were in need of buddies who would help them play the game. Baseball today wouldn't be about hits, throws, signals or stealing; today the boys a would learn a whole lot more.

While our team looked apprehensive as they met their buddies, in no time they began to engage with their new friends. They played catch, chatted, and even picked clovers alongside them. The most wonderful moments came when each child crossed home plate, followed enthusiastically by their cheering buddy. Hugs came naturally, smiles were genuine, and high fives were a given.

I loved the impact Saturday morning had on my son. And me. Just like the Grinch, I'm pretty sure our hearts grew a few sizes that day.

And while the enthusiasm of the Challenge Team players was precious, and the helpful hearts of our boys more than touching, it was the parents of the special needs children who stole my heart.

As we walked back to our cars to return to our careless, easy Saturdays, I realized that these parents didn't have the same type of day ahead of them. Years earlier, they had come to the understanding that every one of their days would be filled with hard work, endless patience, and a depth of love that has understood the sacrificial love to which Christ has called all of us.

On a much smaller scale, Shepherding can require the same steadfastness and sacrifice. Year after year, we find ourselves serving...sometimes seeing the fruit of our labor, sometimes not so much. But we keep going.

And once in awhile, just like our boys last Saturday, we get a small glimpse of why we do what we do.

Shepherds, please share with each other what it is that helps keep you going,
serving, and running the race as you serve God and the Women of
Grace.

the waiting room...

I saw something in the doctor’s office yesterday that hurt my heart.

It was late in the afternoon, the physician’s schedules had backed up, and the waiting room was full of tired, slightly impatient patients.

I noticed a man enter the door in a motorized wheelchair, somewhat frenzied, as if he might be running late. He hurried up to the front desk, pulled out an assortment of papers, phones, pens, etc., and worked hard to give the receptionist what she had asked for.

In his haste, he dropped something that landed beneath his wheelchair. Though I was seated a distance away, I could see him struggling to reach it. Exerting more effort than would be required of those without a disability, I could sense his fretfulness and exhaustion.

The part of the scene that struck me most than was the apathy of those who observed him. Not one person seated anywhere near him moved to offer help. They simply stayed in their chairs, continued to flip through their magazines, or awkwardly looked away.

I think I found this so unsettling because I am just not used to seeing people respond like those folks in the waiting room. I’m used to you. Busy women, with more than enough on your plates, yet you don’t hesitate to offer meals, hugs, childcare, prayer, phone calls, cards, smiles, and so much more, to anyone God puts in your path.

Knowing and watching you is such a privilege, because you love the way Christ designed His church to love.

As I reached down to hand the man the phone he had dropped, I noticed his face. I wish he hadn’t looked so surprised. I wish the rest of the world understood what you understand...

"The world would be a changed place if every Christian attended to the sorrows
that are plain before him." (Maclaren)

Shepherds, would you share with each other ways you have watched your groups come alongside one another this year?

In somewhat of a last minute decision, my husband, 11 year old son and I took a road trip to Colorado last week to ski for a few days.

The sky was glorious, the weather perfect, and skiing more than wonderful. All in all, it was a real treat, and a memory we will always enjoy.

The downside, if there was one, would have to have been the drive. To save on gas, we took the small car, and loaded it with three not-so-small people, skis, ski boots, luggage, computers, and a television.

Ever the optimist, my husband assured me the trip was only 16 hours, and as he put it, “a piece of cake!”

I don’t know what Steve has against cake, but a 20 hour drive, (yep, we did it straight through), complete with a 5th grade boy with occasional intestinal issues, rotting egg McMuffins tucked between the seats, and nothing but miles and miles and miles of Kansas prairies to entertain us felt more like liver and onions to me.

Funny though, once we arrived home, the monotony of the road trip all but faded away. Getting to see my college kid, celebrating a beautiful Easter and reconnecting with the neighbors made the long drive nothing but a quickly fading memory.

That long trek on I70 reminds me a bit of our lives here on earth. On Easter , Dave Rod did a great job reminding us of an incredible HOPE that awaits us, but sometimes the day to day journey feels long, uncertain, and tedious.

Sarah Groves said it well in her song, “Hope”.

You do your work the best that you can you put one foot in front of the other
life comes in waves and makes its demands you hold on as well as you're
able…

As Shepherds, the road may be feeling a bit long for you right now. We are close to the finish line, but we have been at it awhile. It is nice to be reminded that we are all heading in the same direction, and for the same purpose.

As Paul told the Corinthians…

So, my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and steady, always enthusiastic
about the Lord's work, for you know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever
useless. 1 Corinthians 15:58

More than anything, my hope is that you know your efforts this year have been useful, fruitful, and eternal.

Take a minute to share below with the other Shepherds ways this year's
journey may have felt hopeful and fruitful to you...

In the Garden, by Max Lucado

Go with me for a moment to witness what was perhaps the foggiest night in history. The scene is very simple; you’ll recognize it quickly. A grove of twisted olive trees. Ground cluttered with large rocks. A low stone fence. A dark, dark night.

Now, look into the picture. Look closely through the shadowy foliage. See that person? See that solitary figure? What’s he doing? Flat on the ground. Face stained with dirt and tears. Fists pounding the hard earth. Eyes wide with a stupor of fear. Hair matted with salty sweat. Is that blood on his forehead?

That’s Jesus. Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.

Maybe you’ve seen the classic portrait of Christ in the garden. Kneeling beside a big rock. Snow-white robe. Hands peacefully folded in prayer. A look of serenity on his face. Halo over his head. A spotlight from heaven illuminating his golden-brown hair.

Now, I’m no artist, but I can tell you one thing. The man who painted that picture didn’t use the gospel of Mark as a pattern. When Mark wrote about that painful night, he used phrases like these: “Horror and dismay came over him.” “My heart is ready to break with grief.” “He went a little forward and threw himself on the ground.”

Does this look like the picture of a saintly Jesus resting in the palm of God? Hardly. Mark used black paint to describe this scene. We see an agonizing, straining, and struggling Jesus. We see a “man of sorrows.” (Isaiah 53:3 NASB) We see a man struggling with fear, wrestling with commitments, and yearning for relief.

We see Jesus in the fog of a broken heart.

The writer of Hebrews would later pen, “During the days of Jesus’ life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death.” (Hebrews 5:7 NIV)

My, what a portrait! Jesus is in pain. Jesus is on the stage of fear. Jesus is cloaked, not in sainthood, but in humanity.

The next time the fog finds you, you might do well to remember Jesus in the garden. The next time you think that no one understands, reread the fourteenth chapter of Mark. The next time your self-pity convinces you that no one cares, pay a visit to Gethsemane. And the next time you wonder if God really perceives the pain that prevails on this dusty planet, listen to him pleading among the twisted trees.The next time you are called to suffer, pay attention. It may be the closest you’ll ever get to God. Watch closely. It could very well be that the hand that extends itself to lead you out of the fog is a pierced one.

How does being reminded that the One who suffered so much is the very One who longs to comfort you when you suffer bring you hope?

One Aloof Cat

My cat, Ollie, is a bit aloof.

Matter a fact, I’ve decided she either just plain doesn’t like me, or is a certified snob.

Her affections never come at my bidding, but on her terms alone. She will stoop to an occasional rubbing around my ankles, but only when she needs her food bowl filled or her litter box cleaned.

Having become accustomed to her detached demeanor, I am continually surprised to find her snuggled up at my feet many nights as I sleep. And now that I think about it, she is almost always in the same room I am, albeit at a safe distance. She even runs to the door when I arrive home, but as I enthusiastically greet her, (thinking today may actually be the day she decides to be affectionate), she skitters off as quickly as she came.

My cat's continual desire to be with me is sweet, if not somewhat odd.

One thing I know for sure, is that Ollie’s desire to be with me is nothing compared to the immanence of God.

When I take God at His word that He is always with me, closer than my own thoughts, I begin to embrace a truth and comfort beyond words.

God is everywhere here, close to everything, next to everyone.

God is indeed there. He is there as He is here and everywhere, not confined to tree
or stone, but free in the universe, near to everything, next to everyone, and
through Jesus Christ immediately accessible to every loving heart. The doctrine
of the divine omnipresence decides this forever.
A.W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God

What does it mean to you as you consider how very close God is?

As the weather is turning, the action is picking up in our backyard.

After months of too much television, the neighborhood kids are finally out and about, throwing footballs, shooting hoops and playing Capture the Flag.

They are happy, and so are their moms.

Except that is, when preadolescent skirmishes, silly arguments, and occasional bullying takes place.

I remember one such incident all too well from last year. A very large, strong, 15 year-old boy decided to put all the younger boys into a “Full Nelson.” (If you aren’t familiar with the term, it basically consists of one person pinning another’s shoulders back with all his strength, while lifting him off the ground for an excruciating affect.)

I didn’t see it happen, but the cry of pain coming from my 4th grader revealed everything.

Being the conflict avoidance gal that I am, the last thing I wanted to do was to confront the son of a neighbor I love dearly. But just as a lioness protects her cubs at all cost, there was nothing that could have stopped me from immediately handling the situation, and the bully.

Ironic, isn’t it? We follow the Prince of Peace, but it is often hard to manage peace in our own homes, workplaces, and backyards. People are people, and as a result, we really have our work cut out for us in trying to get along.

Jesus must have understood this well.
Listen to Max Lucado…

On the last night of his life Jesus prayed a prayer that stands as a citadel for
all Christians:

“I pray for these followers, but I am also praying for
all those who will believe in me
because of their teaching. Father, I pray
that they can be one. As you are in me and I am in
you, I pray that they can
also be one in us. Then the world will believe that you sent me.”
(John
17:20)

How precious are these words. Jesus, knowing the end is near,
prays one final time for his
followers. Striking, isn’t it, that he prayed
not for their success, their safety, or their happiness.
He prayed for their
unity. He prayed that they would love each other.

Maybe there are no magic answers. Getting along with others doesn’t always come easy. But regardless, I guess we need to begin by loving them.

P.S. The bully I lovingly had to confront has become a special buddy, both to me and my son. (And the younger neighborhood kids are breathing a bit easier these days.)

Would you share any thoughts or ideas that have helped you when "getting along" may have been a problem in your group?

What was your Outreach opportunity like last week? How did your ladies respond?

“I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.'

Then these righteous ones will reply, 'Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? When did we ever see you sick or in prison, and visit you?

And the King will tell them, 'I assure you, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!' (Matthew 25:36-40)

In what way is your small group serving in an Outreach Activity this week?

My neighbor hosted an Oscar party last night for the ladies.

Each of us brought an appetizer, watched a bit of the Oscars, and spent time catching up with one another. A few gals even went a little crazy and dressed for the occasion. Complete with false eyelashes, sequins, faux fur and high heels, they really got into the spirit of the red carpet.

Being with neighbors was great, but the real highlight was listening to the comments from the peanut gallery as the glamorous stars posed for the camera.

“Hate the hair!”
“Clearly, she did her own makeup!”
“That dress makes her look like an overgrown shrimp!”

All this from a bunch of forty to fifty something’s, who’s hair, figures, makeup and clothing wouldn’t qualify us for so much as an amateur county fair pageant, and who would no doubt love the figure, hair or clothing of any one of Hollywood’s elite.

I must confess that I was one of the critics, who disdained an actress’s choice of dress or jewelry while quietly dreaming of wearing it myself.

As much as I try to gracefully accept the fact that I am aging, I secretly would love to have some of the virtues the beautiful people have. Long, heavy, silky hair, clear skin, void of wrinkles and age spots, and a sleek figure that didn’t pooch out at inconvenient places in my clothing…like above my beltline or across my back.

Silly, aren’t I? Even though I am absolutely convinced that these external assets offer none of what Jesus longs for us to have, I find myself coveting them just the same.

1 Peter reminds us…
Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gently and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. 1 Peter 3:3-4

How backwards we seem to have it. Likely spending a good deal of time each day concerned with our outward appearance, to the neglect of our inner beauty, which is of far greater worth to God.

Leaning toward inner beauty

What does someone who is inwardly beautiful look like to you? What practices have you found to help with the increasing of your inner beauty? Is there any way that you encourage your ladies toward development of their inner beauty?

Sick, sick, sick

I got slammed with a stomach flu Wednesday night that didn’t parallel any type of bug I’ve had since I was 8 years old.

I’d gone to sleep anticipating nothing more than a dream or two and an occasional disturbance by my husband’s snoring or our nocturnal cat.

Imagine my surprise when I awoke with the kinds of aches and pains that penetrate skin, hair, and fingernails, faced with the impossible feat of prying myself out of bed and sprinting to the bathroom before it was too late.

Sparing you any further detail, suffice it to say that this was no 24, or even 48 hour bug. It relentlessly held on for days, confining me to my bed or couch, and restricting me to clear broth until Saturday evening.

As I re-entered life Sunday morning, I was struck by the beauty of the day and the freshness of the air. The grass was slightly green, and the snow which covered us only recently was but a memory.


What a sweet reminder of the way God has of making all things new. I had only just been miserable, unhealthy, and stagnant; wallowing for days in weakness, gloom, and the same pair of sweat pants. But as I stepped outside and embraced creation, I was instantly aware of the rebirth and renewal that God provides us every day we begin with Him. Kind of like when I have been in a dormant, less than zealous place in my relationship with God. All He asks is that I return to Him, and instantly the staleness disappears, and the freshness and sweetness of His presence eagerly returns.

The LORD'S lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, For His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness. (Lamentations 3:22-23)

When you find yourself in a bit of a dry place with the Lord, what do you do to rediscover His love?
Taking it to your group…How might you nudge a woman in your group who has been on a gloomy, difficult road toward God?

New Every Morning

When you find yourself in a bit of a dry place with God, what do you do to rediscover His love?

Taking it to your group…How might you nudge a woman in your group who has been on a gloomy, difficult road toward God?

Valentines Day

Even if you don’t have a sentimental bone in your body, I’m betting the diamond, flower and chocolate industries have gotten you thinking about Valentine’s Day this Saturday.

Truth be told, while heart-shaped pendants carrying precious stones are beautiful, I will be happy with a rose or 2. It is actually the chocolate my husband won’t want to forget.

Rather than dreaming of romance, I’m instead finding myself wanting to be sure certain people in my life are feeling loved. Like my 100 year old grandmother, who holds her chin high, but spends her days feeling lonely in her nursing home. Or my parents, who have made me feel loved on countless Valentine’s Days. Or my college kids, who feel a little to far away recently, or my 5th grade son, who is more excited than then most, because he is experiencing his first official crush, just in time for the big day.

Loving others comes so much easier to me when I remember that I am loved. Loved in a much deeper, more real way than I can begin to grasp. It is God’s promise of His love for me that compels me to love others.

I never grow tired of the way Zephaniah describes God’s love…

“The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you. He will quiet you with his love.
He will rejoice over you with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17

As a Shepherd, it may feel like someone always needs your reassurance, your support, and your love. But as we take hold of the truth of the matchless love God has for us, we will have an ample supply of love for others.

How are you experiencing God's love in fresh ways? Have you discovered any ways to help your small group ladies experience the love of God?

Just a Thought...

Just after graduating from college, I was lucky enough to spend a few months at a medical mission in Kenya.

There was nothing metropolitan about our setting. Complete with bathwater the consistency of mud and occasional swarms of flying ants, this was no Nairobi. An evening’s adventure usually involved hitting the walls of our home with a roongute, (a heavy stick made out of a large root), to scare the rats away. The only downside was that if they stopped rustling around in the walls, it meant they very well might show up in the toilet during a middle-of-the-night visit to the bathroom.

One particular afternoon, some of us decided to walk several miles to the top of a high hill to watch the sunset. As we reached our destination, we spent time laughing with beautiful Kenyan children, listening to distant drums, and beholding one of the prettiest sunsets I can remember.

As the last light of day disappeared, we began to head back. It was then that we realized that we hadn’t thought to bring our “torches”, or flashlights. Suddenly Africa’s handle, “The Dark Continent”, held a whole new meaning.

With no city lights, porch lights or headlights to mark our path, we stumbled our way downward. Thoughts of poisonous snakes and recollections of stories of late night thieves began to overtake us. After some time, we came to a fork in the path where our missionary guide couldn’t remember which direction led back to the mission station.

At that moment, seemingly out of nowhere, a man appeared. Attempting the limited tribal vocabulary she knew, our guide asked him for directions. He pointed, and not long after, we found ourselves safely home.

Even though I don’t often spend my days traipsing along dark, unknown African paths, I find myself often feeling unsure of the direction I am heading. Things look dark, safety feels uncertain. It is then that I am glad to remember that God really is everywhere.

“I am with you always,” Jesus promised. Matthew 28:20

A W Tozer describes the everywhere presence of God as follows…

God is here. Wherever we are, God is here. There is no place, there can be no place, where He is not. Ten million intelligences standing at as many points in space and separated by incomprehensible distances can each one say with equal truth, God is here. No point is nearer to God than any other point. It is exactly as near to God from any place as it is from any other place. No one is in mere distance any further from or any nearer to God than any other person is. The Pursuit of God

And more simply, Max Lucado says…

Mark it down.
You will never go where God is not.
You may be transferred, enlisted, commissioned, reassigned, or hospitalized – but brand this on your heart – you can never go where God is not. 30 Days of Thoughts, Day 7

Taking it to your Group

What practical ways have you and your group members supported women facing dark days and questioning God's presence with them?

Scriptures reminding you of God's Presence?

When you find yourself walking a dark path with no certainty when it will end, what scriptures do you cling to in order to be reminded that the Lord is with you?