Excerpt of an Adventurous Life

I have become a soccer mom. The gradual evolution started small with just a couple games for a few weeks with the local parks department and has now become games every weekend almost year round with practices up to 5 nights a week.

Recently we were traveling for a soccer tournement and my son realized he had forgotten his swim trunks at home. I agreed to head to the mall after the games and hunt down some super cheap trunks for the hotel pool. After a long day at the field, we headed to the local mall. We finally found some at Sears for $3.50! Oh, the joy of a good find! I was elated and exhausted. I wanted nothing more than to buy these trunks and get back to the hotel pool.

I grabbed the trunks and  got in the shortest line. I ended up behind a woman, who didn’t speak English, and her daughter, who was translating between her mother and the cashier. It ended up being the longest line after all. There was some sort of misunderstanding about the price of the sweater the woman was purchasing and she didn’t have the money for it.


That still small voice spoke to my heart saying, “Buy her the sweater.” I answered back, “Are you sure?” and the voice responded, “Buy her the sweater.” So, I interrupted and told the cashier that I was going to buy the sweater and handed her my debit card. The daughter, seeing what I was doing, tried to stop me saying that I didn’t need to buy her mother the sweater. They would get this sorted out. I answered back that I knew I didn’t NEED to buy the sweater. I proceeded to buy the sweater for the woman. Moments later the mother said something to her daughter which was translated, “Why?”

Prayerfully, I forwarded the question to God. Then I replied, "This is my gift to you just like Jesus’ free gift of eternal life. When you wear this sweater think of Him dying on the cross for you sins to give you eternal life.” Her eyes teared up and she thanked me.

When my children and I had left the store, they began asking me questions about what just happened. I told them that God wanted to bless that woman with the sweater, and have her think of Him whenever she wears it. He placed us in line behind her so that we could deliver His message to her. Not only was this a “divine appointment” between me, this woman, and God, but it also was a sweet teaching moment for my children.

When we walk by faith, we will act when we hear His voice. We trust that He has a purpose to those things that we can’t understand. I didn’t know the moment I bought that sweater, exactly why I was buying the sweater. I was just trusting that God knew and would work it out Himself.

Brothers and Sisters, He asks us to walk in fellowship with Him throughout our days. Anchor your day in prayer and be sensitive to His leadings. You just never know what adventure awaits you!

Grace Infused Life

I can feel my life slipping away

Being replaced by His essence

My flesh deserves no funeral

No memorial will be given

Given to unforgiveness, judgement, pride, or bitterness

Instead, I will linger under His sweet aroma

Instead, I will taste of His decadent nectar

Instead, I will sit quietly and listen for His song

Instead, I will rest my gaze on His breathtaking beauty

Instead, I will be wrapped in His soft, soothing Love

He, who is the Healer, Redeemer, and Restorer

AMEN

Living and Loving Freely

OMD has a song called "Secrets" that starts playing in my head from time to time. It has become the soundtrack to this decade old conversation I have with God. Well, maybe it isn't a conversation as much as it is me asking questions that I haven't really wanted answered.

Questions like: How do we live a life of transparent freedom in the church? I feel like so many of us live in (what I call) the "shameful secrets closet." How do we come out? Why are we choosing to live isolated and apart from each other? Would the idea of living in "community" actually happen more if we weren't so ashamed of our secrets? Would we be more free to love others? Would we be less fearful of being judged by our brothers and sisters?  Maybe this is what Jesus was getting at when he talked about the log and the speck?

I have been asking God these questions, but too afraid to hear the answers for many, many,  years. However this year, He has infused me with boldness and courage. I have become courageous enough to sit still and let Him rip. Think of me sitting on a kitchen stool with my hands white knuckling the edges and my eyes shut so tight, I am seeing psychedelic designs. None the less, I am sitting still and quiet ready to receive whatever He has to say.

I know deep down what the answer is...and it scares the poop right out of me. In order for us to live freely, we have to come out of the shameful secrets closet. We have to come to terms with our humanity and stop judging ourselves and each other. The thought of being judged makes me want to lock myself away in my closet for 100 years! I hate that feeling of being slimed on--especially by those who are supposed to have my back.

Furthermore, we have to embrace our identity. We have to stop fighting who we are--who God says we are. We need to let the shame wash away and live in the Truth of who we are in God's eyes.

In order to embrace my identity as a daughter of the King who has been picked up out of the pit, I have to believe God is who He says He is, and what He says is ultimate Truth. If He says, I am pleasing to Him, that He loves me, that my shameful sins have been washed away by the blood, and that my old (wo)man has been crucified, then it IS. My closet is barren. There are no more shameful secrets.

 By calling  myself anything other than this--I am saying God is a liar. I am questioning what He says. I'm arguing with the Maker of Heaven and Earth. I'm telling Him that I'm not who He says I am. I don't think it is a good thing to call God a liar, but I think we do it every day when we refuse to accept that we are a new creation in Christ. I am not a sinner saved by grace. I am a saint who exhibits sinful behaviors. However, my behavior is separate from my identity.


Are we ready to truly love unconditionally? Are we ready to know what sinful behaviors others have struggled with, what others have gone through? Can you love beyond the sin? Can we see the new creation more than the behavior?

Are we ready to be opened up to the possible judgement of others? I can't help but think of the lady caught in adultery. Even though she didn't open her closet door on her own, the end result was judgement from her community.  That's the feeling I am trying to avoid.

This story illustrates that we can't judge others cause we all have junk. The lady was in the act of having an affair when the men of the church grabbed her and took her to Jesus.  They were ready to stone her to death for her sins. I love what Jesus said. He simply said that the one without sin can throw the first stone.

In the end, everyone walked away from her that day cause in reality they were no better than her. They all had sin. The only one left was the one not holding a stone. He was without sin--without blemish. His love washed over her and she was never the same.

His love has washed over me and I have never been the same. I want to live and love freely.  My heart desires to see believers for who they really are--sons and daughters of the Most High. Those things I have gone through have been taken to the Father and I am FREE! Those things that you have gone through have been taken to the Father and YOU ARE FREE! We are new creations and our behavior doesn't dictate our identity.

Flying Sailboats, Typewriters, and Monkey Masks

The first story I can remember writing was about a couple of kids on a flying sailboat. They would fly from adventure to adventure saving whatever needed to be saved.

I fell in love with putting my imagination on paper. I would swoon just thinking of which words to use to describe different people or events. I would nestle into my favorite spot in my bedroom and write away the day. It felt like coming home after being away at camp--to be safely home in the folds of love.

One day, while visiting with my grandparents, my Grandma turned on her typewriter and began typing out a letter to someone. It probably was to her sister who lived in OH. They had such a close relationship. They were on the phone often with each other and would send letters with family photos back and forth through the mail.

 I loved it when my great Aunt would come to visit. Those two old birds could sit in the kitchen all day and laugh and cackle about anything. I remember when my Aunt, my Grandma's daughter, got married. My Grandma's sister brought monkey masks for the family to wear in one of our photos which we did. At the time, I thought my family was so weird--typical preteen. Now, I would give anything to go back and have my grandma and great Aunt with us again. My grandma was just so full of life. I loved her. Anyway, she was typing a letter.

The typewriter clicked and clacked away to the rhythm of my Grandma's thoughtful fingers. It was the most beautiful sound...the sound of thoughts becoming real. The sound of her inner fears and joys, her ideas and perspectives coming to the surface and breaking out onto the paper. It electrified me.

Before long, I had a typewriter of my own. I started bringing to the surface my inner thoughts and feelings and letting them break open onto the paper. I knew then, that this was a part of me. The paper became my canvas and my thoughts were the paints I used to create my mosaics.

I am a writer. I savor the taste of words in my mouth. They are like a sweet wine that I never want to swallow. Even if my words go unnoticed, I am still a writer. The reward isn't in who reads what I wrote, but in the rhythmic release of the inside to the outside. It is home.