I just love all the pithy pickle phrases that is part of being on the pickleball courts. My first goal for my partner and I, if we start falling behind and feeling anxious, is to be “unpickled“.
To be pickled means: to be skunked and end of with 0 points…so I get excited when we get that first point and I yell out, “We can’t be pickled now!”
But how do we get “unpickled” in life? How do we keep from the vinegar of life that can slowly turn us into sour pickles?
What is the opposite of vinegar ? I say sugar…like the sugar sprinkled out from our Dear Heavenly Father’s hands this past weekend. Let me explain.
A small gathering of some sweet sisters occurred and we listened to the Sept. 8th first5.org audio taping on the topic of the tension of being in exile in the bible (like Adam and Eve banished from the garden, the Israelites wandering in the desert, Joseph being sold into slavery…etc..) and then we discussed how this all related to the times in our lives when we felt unrooted …or our children were unrooted and our “mommy hearts” were torn in the process.
One sister shared how she was unrooted a lot as a child because her dad was in the military, another sister feels torn between home and a job that are in different locations, one friend has a child who was exiling themselves by bad choices….another whose long season as a mother had ended with an empty nest. Now what?
We all could relate to being exiled like so many biblical men and women who often were confused, hurt, anxious etc…. when God allowed painful times of Exile.
One sister recently made the tough decision to shake their adult child out of the warm nest of her home…. knowing that this was best long-term for the child.
Our “pickle” was slowly becoming…….unpickled!
So this must be why Our Heavenly Father shakes us up too!
We discussed how Long -term God knows what is best for each of us and that when we become too comfortable, this can create weak spiritual muscles.
Our good good father loves you So much my sister….so if He has shaken you up and out of your comfortable nest, it is so that your wings will start to flap and grow stronger and as a result you will grow closer to God as you soar higher with Joy in your heart.
What can you do to strengthen your spiritual muscles while you wait?
But those who (wait, hope, trust) in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings on eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. Isaiah 40:13
Whether you have tried Pickle-ball or not…..hang with me please.
“One Point At a Time”
Sometimes on the playground of a pickleball court we find glimpses of how God wants us to live spiritually.
When my partner and I have been behind on points, I will encouragingly say, ” One point at a time.”
I’m reminding myself and my partner to not stress over the 5 or 6 more points that we would most “like” to have. but to just focus on the next point.
Similarly, a sweet soul sister reminded me today that we need to focus on “one person (soul) at a time.”
She continued with,,, ” Then it spreads, they talk to another person and the chain continues to grow.”
“Yes!” I agreed. Jesus would stop and focus on the person in front of him.
One person at a time. Nothing more or less.
Each person’s soul is priceless and worth Jesus dying on the cross for….Each person that crosses our path is a masterpiece worth our time, attention, love and prayers.
So Let’s Love the person in front of us today…Love.Always.Wins.
I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in Him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing. John 15:5
Dear Sweet Sister:
Have you ever been in a vineyard? During a visit to Napa Valley to celebrate my husband’s Jubilee birthday, I had the privilege of touring a working vineyard.
Jesus uses the grape vine as an allegory to show us how He wants our relationship to be with Him and thus I excitedly peppered the tour guide with lots of questions so I could understand better this desired relationship.
Jesus the vine is to be our source for food and water
The vine is similar to the trunk of a tree and all the nutrients and water come up out of the vine to feed the branches. Jesus is to be our one true source that we cling to throughout the day for refreshment, comfort, encouragement, accountability and companionship.
A young lady shared with me this morning of how easy it is for her to just turn on the TV rather than to spend time reading the Bible and praying.
What is drawing your attention away? A branch seperated from the vine will eventually wither up and die. How can we thrive instead and bear much fruit?
I personally have found that I need to set boundaries to ensure that I remain close to Jesus.
At the start of the day….I have decided to NOT look at emails, the news or Facebook until I have had sweet time with Jesus. I have a special chair in a room away from my bed and once I make my morning tea and open my journal and Bible, our date begins.
In the journal I write down the ACTS (adoration, contrition, thanksgiving, and supplications ) so to structure my time and keep my thoughts from wandering. I try to follow a study such as first5.org or meditate on a small portion of the Bible. I am learning to listen and just sit and enjoy the presence of God. You were created for God’s pleasure and He truly wants to spend time with you.
Years ago, I would struggle to sit for too long, but as time has passed I now spend longer and longer during my morning date with Jesus and ironically I now struggle with having to leave as it is my favorite part of the day.
Hi Sweet Sister! Something a little weird just happened. So as I was seeking God on what my New Year’s resolutions should be, a friend who I haven’t seen for a long while texted me:
” You visited me in a dream last night. Encouraged me to keep reading Scripture, but also to declutter my house. It was great! I needed that kick in the pants. Please visit again soon! Merry Christmas!”
I responded to her text with, “LOL, I need to do both those things, ……”
I felt like her dream was me literally preaching to myself.
Because isn’t that in a nutshell of what we as followers of Christ need to do.?
1. declutter daily ( I’m talking spiritually now)
2. fill up with the Scriptures and all that is good.
So Here’s a quick refresher on how to do this:
So what should we do Sweet Sister?
First, what should our number one focus and priority be as Christians ?
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden of sin that clings (distracts us) to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith.” Hebrews 12 : 1-2
Our goal to to run after Jesus keeping our eyes fixed on Him, to stay on the narrow path and to invite as many of our friends and family to come join the race.
So ask yourself these two questions?
What is weighing me down or distracting me from following closer to Jesus? Is a person, social media, a hobby, an addiction, T.V., clutter, love of sleep..?…..What do I do first when I wake up instead of spending a date with Jesus? What do I need to take away so I have more room to grow in my relationship with Jesus?
How can I be sure to stay close to Jesus in 2024? Do I need to go to bed earlier? wake up earlier? make a pact to not look at emails or Facebook until I have sat in quiet and became still before my Lord and Savior? To not exercise my body until I have exercised my soul? Maybe decide to read the good news before I read or watch the depressing news on T.V?
We are promised be bear good fruit, if we remain close to Jesus. So this needs to be our Top priority. He will guide us each morning as to all the other goals. We don’t know what the future will hold and what we will face, but if we meet with God and walk and talk with Him on a daily basis, we will know at the right time what we should do. When we have our “date time” then we can ask…How can I take better care of the body you gave me? How should I handle this business decision? How can I show Love to this person who really rubs me the wrong way?
Now this is really important Sister. Write down what you plan to get rid of and hand it over to Jesus. You need to make room for Jesus and so some housekeeping must occur in your heart. Don’t just think about it….write it down. now:)
Next, write down how you plan to improve or add your personal relationship with Jesus. Will you make a commitment to not look at Facebook or emails when you wake up until you chat with the one who loves you the most ? Or make a commitment to attend your church more ? and Join a small group bible study?
Just as an athlete makes sacrifices and trains with others that are like- minded, as Christians we need to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus and find like-minded sisters to keep us accountable and encourage us.
So Write down what you will remove from your life or only do after you spend time with Jesus……….and then write when and where you will meet him for your daily “Date”. I have a special place and chair and if I fail to allow for some good, sweet time to chat with Jesus and tell Him what’s on my heart, I imagine in my mind’s eye that He quietly waits until I do make time. Love is patient and He will not force His love but quietly waits for us to make room. I hope we look back on 2024 as the year that no matter what happened around us or to us that we kept our eyes fixed on Jesus and we persevered in running the race.
Clunk. She dropped the phone and started to sob uncontrollably.
Hearing only the dial tone, I collapsed in a nearby chair stunned by my own words. I could only wonder how my dear friend would respond as she sat in her wheelchair in a psychiatric day room while she recovered from a stroke. Would she follow through on her threats to end her life ? Did I just push her over the edge?
Two-and-a-half years before this call, I had moved right next door to her and we had often chatted while our children played. Soon I discovered her grief due to the recent loss of her father, along with other stressful life changes. But as the months passed, Cindy seemed to be stuck in her sorrow. Because of the continuous blue days, she enlisted a psychiatrist and received medications, yet nothing seemed to alleviate her pain. In addition, sleepless nights and panic attacks escalated into a severe clinical depression.
My heart hurt for her as I watched her struggle. I doubled some meals to share with her family, and her three children often spent time in my home as I helped them with schoolwork. I held her hand while she cried, and often prayed for her. However, my words never seemed to sink in.
During this time, I observed Cindy’s unending freefall into the depths of unsuccessful treatments that seemed to make her situation worse, not better. I felt so helpless. Admission to the hospital seven separate times proved fruitless for her, even while different combinations of medications had been prescribed. Horror shook me the day I noticed the black and blue marks that ran all the way up and down her arms because of the needles used to put her under for electrical shock treatments. As a last resort, my friend submitted to ECT which erased her memory and left her in a zombie-like state and with no expression on her face.
Equally painful was the awareness I had of the profound effects that Cindy’s illness caused for her children. Her voice flat, her words few, and her lack of awareness about her family shadowed the entire household.
Medical setback, after setback, seemed to fling Cindy deeper into depression. Where was God? I wondered. Why won’t you help this family?
Then the depression penetrated so deeply that Cindy attempted suicide. One day, after her family had left the house for school and work, she swallowed a bottle of pills. Her husband found her in time and drove her to the emergency room. She screamed, “NO! I want to die! Leave me alone!” again and again as they pumped her stomach.
In contrast, right next door in our own home, my two little girls and I felt excitement as we prepared for our third baby. But to our great shock, Megan was born three months early, and soon rested in the clear plastic incubator in the NICU. I sat in a wheelchair beside her, dazed, and sore with the staples in my stomach from the emergency cesarean.
Two days later on Christmas morning , I found myself still alone and confused in my stark, white hospital bed. They released me so that I could go home to be with my family, but Megan would need to stay in the NICU and would not be coming with me. Why did you allow this to happen, Lord? I pleaded fervently, Please , please, don’t let my baby die!
~~~
On January 30th in a psychiatric hospital not far away, my dear friend, Cindy, experienced a hypertensive crisis. After being transferred to a local shock trauma center, she underwent surgery due to a stroke and remained in ICU. Now Cindy lay paralyzed, unable to speak or move. So now, in addition to battling depression, she became a patient incapable of attending to her own personal needs of bathing, dressing, feeding herself, and walking.
It was only three days later on February 2nd, that I sat, again, in another hospital holding my precious baby girl for the very last time. After forty long days of ups and downs, the doctor informed us that her little organs had begun to permanently shut down. I held my tiny daughter in my arms as she breathed her last while my husband cried softly in the corner of the room.
During this final moment that I held our infant daughter, I sensed a supernatural peace. I knew for certain that Megan, an innocent baby, was now “healed in heaven,” and safe in the arms of Jesus.
I absolutely felt God’s peace and presence that day, but as the weeks after her death crawled by, my initial numbness melted away. I felt overcome with disappointment and anger.
Cindy became more and more angry at God too.
In fact, Cindy’s anger prevented her from following instructions, and she decided to stop taking her medication and food altogether. That is when Cindy’s husband called to inform me that, “Tomorrow they will have to put a tube down her throat to force feed her.”
Suddenly, my compassion for Cindy turned to anger. When I heard that she was making a conscious decision to end her life, then I had had enough. My own loss over Megan’s death fueled my passion as I picked up the phone to call Cindy.
Her ears recognized my voice, but not my stern, authoritative tone. “I heard you have stopped eating?” I started.
“That’s right,” she answered. After a pause, she continued. “Maybe when I’m dead and gone, then everyone will realize how sick I really was, and they’ll be sorry. Mark will be sorry he didn’t take my illness more seriously.”
“Cindy —NO ONE is going to feel sorry for you if you die. They are going to feel sorry for Mark who would be left alone with three small children. Life will go on if you die. Sure, Mark will grieve for a little while, but then he will marry another woman! Someone else who will then take care of your children! They need you, Cindy! They are not being properly cared for.” “That’s Mark’s job now,” she retorted.
“NO, it isn’t! You are the mother. You have been very strong-willed and selfcentered. All you have thought about is yourself and your needs. You never flick an eye to help others, not even your own family. You’re so wrapped up in anger and resentment that you can’t see beyond the tip of your nose!”
That is when she dropped the phone out of her hand that had been propped on the wheelchair. Clunk! Unbeknownst to me, she began to sob so loudly that staff ran to her and took her back to her room.
A few hours later, providentially, a pastor visited to talk and to pray with her.
He reminded her about how God valued her life, and about how her family loved her and needed her. Later that afternoon, Cindy pondered my piercing words that paved the way for her to hear the warmth of God’s love for her spoken by the minister.
Over the next few weeks, Cindy worked with a physical therapist every day as she recovered from the damage done by the stroke. From relearning to feed herself and to walk again, she made steady progress.
After time to reflect, Cindy made an important phone call to her husband. “Mark —I want to tell you! I gave my life to Christ last night! I could hardly sleep all night! —I was so full of joy!”
Cindy progressed physically, but I was most excited about her new desire to pray and to memorize scripture. I wrote out Bible verses for her which she taped to the wall next to her hospital bed and she memorized each one. Not long after, she asked God to help her to forgive her father and all the other ones who had hurt her. Cindy began to pray, keep a journal, and listen to a Christian radio station.
Four months after the stroke, she finally returned home. Even though she had more speech, occupational, and physical therapy ahead of her, and she couldn’t even drive a car for a few more months, her depression had lifted. Day by day, I watched as God healed her physically, mentally, and spiritually.
One morning, I visited her home while she was still recovering and sitting in a rolling chair. She shone with gratefulness as she explained to me that she wanted to buy pizza for all those still left behind in the psychiatric ward. In addition to her awareness of others, I noticed that her eyes often looked upward when she shared about even the smallest reason for thanksgiving that others might take for granted. “I was taking a bath and noticed my toes!
How amazing of God to give us toes so that we can balance.”
Twenty-five years later, even though other life hardships and challenges have taken place, Cindy has not fallen back into depression. Now she peer coaches others who are hurting in her church and in the surrounding community, and she shares her amazing testimony of God’s faithfulness.
Both of my prayer requests for healing were answered for my dear friend and for my beautiful baby.
One healed on earth, the other healed in heaven.
* * *
Surrender
(short poem)
He stretched out his wounded hands,
and embraced the world,
“Father, forgive them,
for they know not what they do.”
Then He surrendered His Spirit,
And His will to His father.
Oh, this is Love.
After Rising from the dead,
He once more stretched out his nail-scarred hands,
And said, “Peace be with you,”
A trinity of times.
He then breathed out His Spirit
“Forgive, as I forgive.”
Oh, this is Love.
* * *
Mary’s Love Song
Poem
Its already been a long road,
They judge and stare at me,
Every door was closed in Bethlehem,
But your Love rescues me.
They already try to kill Him,
King Herod makes us flee,
A sword will pierce this mother’s heart,
But your Love sets me free.
Heaven, Manna from Heaven,
Purest of Love and Light,
Rests in my arms tonight,
Heaven, I’m holding Heaven,
And. All. Will. Be. Made. Right.
All will be made right… through Jesus,
All will be made right,
Heaven’s best sent down to save us, so,
All. Will. Be. Made. Right.
Both the Holy Lamb of Heaven,
and All-Mighty God is He,
He comes to break the chains of sin,
To set All people free.
In this world we will have trouble,
So He came to hold our hands,
Our story ends in victory,
Heaven for those who stand.
Heaven, Manna from Heaven,
Purest of Love and Light,
Rests in my arms tonight,
Heaven, I’m holding Heaven,
And. All. Will. Be. Made. Right.
All will be made right… through Jesus,
All will be made right,
Heaven’s best sent down to save us, so,
All . Will. Be. Made. Right.
* * *
The Pieta’s Peace
~~Sometimes winning means letting go~~
I couldn’t stop gazing at her hands. Carved from white marble, they did not tightly grip him, but they gently cradled his limp body upon her lap. Her left hand lay open with its palm facing upward as her beautiful, serene face admired her lifeless son.
St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City overwhelmed me as I knew I could never take in all the meaning and beauty within a single visit. One of the largest churches in the world, as well as a masterpiece of architecture, it contains numerous chapels and altars with lavish decorations, renaissance paintings, mosaics, and sculptures.
Despite the numerous fascinating art adhering to every ceiling, wall, and floor in the massive cathedral that houses the tomb of St. Peter, I felt drawn back to Mary’s hands. The smooth, small relinquished open palms portrayed in the masterpiece, The Pieta, by the world-renowned sculptor, Michelangelo, spoke to my own grieving heart.
The Pieta depicts a moment just after Jesus is taken down from the cross, and when his mother, Mary, holds him in her lap one last time. The sculpture, chiseled out of stone 1500 years prior, mesmerizes crowds today who stand in silence to comprehend the heart-wrenching experience of Mary. The son who the angel had promised would be called the Son of God, lay dead in her arms after the long torture of scourging by whips, rejection and mocking by men, and dying the horrendous, slow death of suffocaton on the cross. Despite this treatment, Jesus demonstrated love until His last dying words which extended forgiveness for those who hurt him.
I kept wandering back to this stunning statue to ponder the secret of Mary’s beautiful, peaceful face. The answer, I realized, lay in those open, trusting hands. Mary’s hands still rested palm up while Jesus lay on her lap. Meanwhile, my own heart and hands tightly gripped a loved one back home who faced a difficult situation.
Captivated by The Pieta and the message it carried, I decided to google Michelangelo and his timeless sculpture. At the early age of six, after losing his mother to a long period of illness, Michelangelo was sent to stay with his uncle, a stone cutter. After suffering such a tragic loss at such a tender age, Michelangelo knew the agony of grief. Perhaps, though, he also learned how God could reconcile loss as he stepped into his career as an artist using the skills he learned in his uncle’s workshop.
The word “pieta” literally means “pity, compassion, and suffering.” Michelangelo revealed later that he did not want his version of the Pieta to represent death, but rather “to show the religious vision of abandonment.” Abandonment. Yes, that is what those surrendering hands demonstrate.
I interpreted the scene as Mary trusting in God, and giving back to Him the gift that had been given to her so many years before. I wondered if the sculpture that took two years to complete could have been Michelangelo’s gift back to God. Maybe he learned as a young boy the secret of abandonment, letting go, and he displayed that serenity that is reflected in the carving of Mary’s face. Perhaps he desired to share with others the peace that could be found when one loosens their grip, and stops trying to hold on so hard.
The image of the Pieta rested in my mind even when I’d returned to our accommodations that evening. Kneeling beside the bed, I stretched out my hands, palms turned upward, and I placed my own struggling loved one back into God’s strong, loving, and dependable hands. Yielding, I released this special one to God, and said out loud, “I give her back to you. She is Yours.”
I continued to pray this, “prayer of abandonment,” whenever an anxious thought gripped me. I chose to release my own expectations and demands, and made room for God to intervene and work. As I handed her back to God, I felt peace. My surrender led to to sweet, indescrible peace, as beautiful as the expression on Mary’s serene face.
* * *
* * *
Discussion questions for those who want to delve deeper:
The Story of Cindy Narup, produced by Unshackled, the award-winning radio drama through The Pacific Garden Mission in Chicago is Episode #2616, February 2001. While first created in English, one can now listen to Cindy’s story on the website, Unshacked.org, in Korean, Polish, Romanian, Russian, and Spanish. Thousands have tuned in to hear her story from around the world. In truth, we all face the challenges of being shackled by selfish attitudes and choices. But, God’s powerful and constant love can set us free. What did Cindy finally do to let God in?
Look up Proverbs 27:6 and Proverbs 24:26. Do you appreciate when afriend is honest with you? How can we know when to speak up, or when to be silent? (Remember in the previous chapter, Not Guilty and The Garden of Paradise, that the author confronted a friend when the best action in that case actually would have been to be quiet and listen).
Look up 2 Corinthians 5:17. How does this passage describe Cindy? Whatother analogies remind you of transformation?
Who has God arranged as your neighbor? Whose path do you cross often?The author grew to love Cindy as they spent time together, and attempted to express love to her neighbor in multiple practical ways. If Cindy had not had a close relationship with the author, then could the phone call have ended badly?
The poem, Mary’s Love Song, proclaims the final victory that will result because of Jesus. Look up Colossians 1:19-20. What is God’s will for all things? How does this need to be accomplished? While you are in Colossians, chapter one, read verse 17. Can you trust Him to hold you and your family together? Now, extra slow, read Colossians 1:15-23. What is your role as described in this passage?
Read again, slowly, the poem, The Pieta’s Peace. Study the sketch of this famous masterpiece. Especially observe the position of Mary’s hands. Think about what, or who, you might be gripping?
Look up Luke 7:36-50. How do we receive true peace?
* * *
Time for Dessert
Write a letter to someone who has hurt you. Write out all your anger and resentment that you have been holding inside. Now rip the letter up and go forward !
I recently attended a tea party fit for a princess. My generous friend shared her gift of hospitality with five of us and considered every detail. She greeted us with warm enthusiastic hugs individually as each one arrived at her door. Real china and crystal candelabras set the lavish table, and soon, the scones, quiche, and chocolate-covered strawberries followed. As the tea steeped, she asked clever questions of each guest so as to connect us all in a positive manner and to help the conversation to flow.
But then… the sweet picture-perfect scene turned sour.
The conversation spiraled into negative sharing about our husbands. Light- hearted jokes snowballed into complaints and ungratefulness. Regrettably, I laughed along and joined the banter.
But then… the gracious and wise hostess offered the suggestion that turned back the tide of our elegant tea party. “Why don’t we go around the table and say something good about our husbands?” she encouraged us. “Okay? I’ll start…” she began.
My friend shared a cherished routine that her and her husband enjoy when he returns home from a business trip. Soon after he’s home again, they dress up (her husband puts on a dinner jacket), and they dance in the kitchen to celebrate!
Now the energy flowed as each woman shared a positive point about her husband. One couple, we learned, text each other the words of their favorite songs during the day as a code for romantic messages. A chorus of women giggled, “That’s so beautiful! We love that idea!”
After taking a sip of the now simmered tea, another friend thought of how her husband always complimented her in public, and how she wanted to be more like him in this way.
The previous drip-dripping of negativity that wears away at relationships, turned into a rain of refreshment. Our time together resulted in new ideas and in a renewed appreciation of our loved ones.
In the book of Proverbs, the impact of a wife’s nagging and negative words is compared to an irritating leak…drip, drip, drip.
“A nagging wife is like water going drip-drip-drip on a rainy day.” Proverbs 27:15
In addition, the book of Judges tells the story of strong Samson and the constant imploring words of Delilah. She ‘nags him to death’ and he eventually reveals the actual secret of his hidden strength. This results not only in Samson’s eyes being dug out, but also in him being chained in bondage until the end of his life.
Words can tear down and words can build up. Smearing the dirt on our husbands is like rolling in the mud for everybody to see because we are one unit as husband and wife.
I know the excuses we tend to give because I’ve used them myself. “I’m just venting,” or, “My friends are my therapists.” But a therapist would not personally know your husband and would not be passing any information along to others. In truth, your friends probably will. At the very least, their opinion of your spouse will decrease.
So guard your mouth and speak only life-giving, delicious tidbits about your spouse. Love protects relationships and looks for the best in others.
What should you do the next time you are tempted to focus on a negative quality of your spouse?
Take out a pen and paper, and write down ten positive statements about them instead. The next time a situation arises, read the list out loud.
Be ready for the next time when a friend begins to share some of her complaints. Perhaps interject something like: “I know that Joe isn’t perfect, but what is something that he does really well?” A true friend will support your marriage and help pull you out of the pit of self-pity.
So… lay out the good china dishes, my friend, and fill them with the choicest of words.
~~Love never grows old~~
As I was walking down the beach today, I overheard a white-haired lady chatting with her friends. “Do you know what my number number one bucket list item is?” she paused, and then exclaimed, “To fall in Love!” and added, “Again!”
Was she a widow? Was she divorced? All I knew was that she placed falling in love, AGAIN, as her top priority.
While I continued to walk along the shore, I remembered a simple poem that I had written many years ago about God’s desire for us to each fall in love with our spouses, again and again. God can ‘make all things new.’ We can’t control our spouse or change him, but we can ask God to help us to be the best wife and the best friend to our husband as possible.
How to Fall in Love… Again
Oh give my husband a brand new wife,
One that will partner lovingly.
Give him the helpmate that he so needs,
And may that ‘new wife’ always be me.
Oh give my husband a hot lover,
One that will surprise lovingly.
Give her energy and fresh ideas,
And may that ‘lover’ always be me.
Oh give my husband a new best friend,
One that will listen lovingly.
Give her Your wisdom to find the good,
And may that ‘best friend’ always be me.
As newlyweds, Dave and I searched for our first Christmas tree. I remember shivering in the cold, and being perfectly willing to take home any one of the many trees that we spotted along the way.
But Dave kept searching for, “the perfect tree,” which we all know is not a thing. (Neither is there a perfect wife).
This poem was my tongue-in-cheek way to find the good in having a husband who takes soooo long to pick out certain items.
I hope, sweet sister, that you will look for the positive qualities in those around you. When I get frustrated or angry, for instance, sometimes I make a list of the top ten great qualities about my husband. Focusing on the good always changes my perspective. Perhaps the best gift you could give you and your spouse today is to start making such a list right now.
“Finally, brothers and sisters,
whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable
—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy
—think about such things.”
(Philippians 4:8)
Moon Beams
Soon after the “I do’s,” and sometimes even during the honeymoon, we realize that our spouse might not be as perfect as we once imagined. On the other hand, despair might drag us down when we learn that we have disappointed our dear one, and may have grown less-than-shiny in their eyes, as well.
We are left with a decision to either run away, or to stay, and look up to the only One who will love us completely, and meet our deepest needs.
Oh my sister, we so long for beauty and to be beautiful, don’t we? The answer is one and the same. For wrapped up in human skin, our heavenly father sent a gift of true beauty and pure perfection. As we seek to spend time with Him, more rays of His light, beauty, and love will reflect out to others. We will mirror back His healing love just as the lightless moon reflects the powerful brilliance of the sun.
Oh, what comfort. Despite our many craters of flaws and mistakes, God’s love is more. God’s love, poured out for us on the cross, smooths over and makes us flawless. Like a waxing moon in a velvet sky, your soul is growing more radiant as you continue to choose to turn toward the Son.
A Mid-Life Epiphany
Husbands please be patient,
I know we now both agree,
Your wife is far from perfect,
Just like your Christmas tree.
Our needles are brown and shedding,
Our bottoms have grown too wide,
Once firm branches are now drooping,
Too tattered for trimmings to hide.
Don’t look too close is now our plea,
Your search might be mistaken,
And please don’t look around fretting,
“All her youth has now been taken.”
Long ago Magi searched the skies,
Longing for Israel’s winning King,
Wise men still seek to find this Son,
A perfection worth worshiping.
So husbands look up past the tree,
Echo out epic epiphany,
“As the moon mirrors the sun’s light,
You reflect God’s love beautifully. ”
Stay
~~Sometimeslovedoesn’ttaketheeasyway~~
Grimacing in pain, he gripped his cane while he teetered stiffly to our table, like an accident victim in a full body cast who was just learning to walk. However, once he finally arrived, he didn’t sit down because for John, standing was only slightly less painful than sitting.
So John stood by our round table at the restaurant, while his wife, my husband, and I, enjoyed our spicy Mexican tacos in iron-wrought chairs. He did not stand in order to see the winding river below our patio, but to find relief from his chronic back pain. This awful pain had worsened over the past two decades that John and his wife, Bonnie, had continually sought medical care and prayed for God’s intervention.
My heart hurt as I watched his handsome face (much too young for a cane) wince in pain at every movement. I could only imagine the long-suffering heart of his wife who has lovingly cared for him each and every day, through surgeries and ‘recoveries’ due to his long term back issues.
Bonnie patiently ‘waits’ on God as she also lovingly ‘waits’ on her husband. For months she brought food to his upstairs bed as it was too painful for him to move downstairs. She chose commitment over fleeing, as most days she is also housebound.
However, although detained in her own home, her example of sacrifice and faithfulness reaches to her children and others, like the brilliant light that the moon reflects for so many during long, dark nights. The moon’s beautiful glowing is but a reflection of the awesome sun, which is powerful, radiant, and the center of our universe. Bonnie and John have made their devotion to Jesus, the Light of the World, the center of their family’s universe.
She spoke these words to us across the table, as gently as her life demonstrates them:
“Love is not a feeling… Love is a commitment.”
She faithfully holds on to her marriage vows of, “for Better or for Worse,” with one hand while her other hand clutches God’s promises to be faithful to her and her family.
Her greatest concern is for her children’s character. They observe real life lessons day-in and day-out as both of their parents remain steadfast in their hope and trust in God, despite the failed procedures and chronic pain.
She has a long term perspective. Bonnie refers to this time on earth as “a blip” compared to eternity.
Her commitment is to God and to her husband. Her desire is for her children to marry someday and to be spouses who exhibit true persevering love in every circumstance.
She. Is. More. Beautiful. —than any runway model. Bonnie models
True.
Unselfish. Enduring. Committed. Love.
* * *
What should you do, sweet friend, when the feelings fade? When life disappoints?
When you want to flee?
To give up?
Look to God’s love wrapped in raw flesh on the cross. Did Jesus feel like carrying his cross? Did He feel like staying on the cross? Remember how in the garden He begged that the bitter cup be taken away?
Jesus, all human, and, at the same time, all God, could have come down at any moment. But instead, Jesus stayed on the cross —for us.
Love stayed. He stayed.
He stayed because He loves you, my dear one,
and He so desires to spend eternity with you.
Love stayed.
Love became the way.
* * *
Discussion questions for those who want to delve deeper:
Have you ever been to a tea party that turned sour? Why is it so easy to complain about those closest to us?
Read and underline Proverbs 14:1. What does a wise woman do instead? Turn to Proverbs 18:21. What is the most powerful part of your body?
Read Matthew 7:1-5. Ouch! Do you notice your own personal plank, or the sawdust of another? How can we accomplish this difficult task?
In Mid-Life Epiphany, the author bemoans that she is changing as she grows older, and is no longer “perfect” in her husband’s eyes. What makes a person beautiful to you? To God?
Can we expect to change our spouse? How can we become a better wife, or friend?
How is Bonnie like, ‘the full moon on a velvet night’? Does our culture encourage this commitment? Do you feel like running away sometimes from your situation? (*To be sure, at times a trusted Christian friend or counselor might help to gain perspective when we share personal thoughts —which is very different from the story of the ‘husband bashing’ that might occur in a social setting).
What would our world be like if Jesus did not ‘Stay’? Why did He ‘Stay’ for you?
* * *
Time for Dessert
Sit down and write 10 positive things about your spouse or family member.
Better yet, after you make your list, place it on their pillow tonight.
For two whole weeks —long, dark days of rain —short, violent storms and hail. Broken branches littered my yard and canceled plans littered my calendar.
“Where is Noah?” I asked, “Is his ark about to pass us by?” I teased my coworkers as we looked out my office window at the sheets of rain falling on the parking lot.
But what I was really looking for was a rainbow.
Don’t we all hope for the rainbows? Aren’t we all searching for some beauty after the pain, some encouragement after the rain?
But for the longest time I couldn’t find one.
“Look for the sun,” my husband reminded me. “Both the sun and rain are needed at the same time to create a rainbow.” And then… It. Happened.
On our way to dinner we drove through the middle of a perfect rainbow. Glorious colors —red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet on both sides of a giant arch with the ends close to each side of the road. Our car slowed to a saunter under the middle of a breathtakingly beautiful rainbow.
My sweet sister, Liese, calls this, “A kiss from God.” A kiss or God-wink is an aha moment when our loving father provides a reminder that He is always with us and knows what we need.
This rainbow reminded me of the promises from our loving, caring creator that joy does come after times of drought —and it does come after long nights of doubt.
Most comforting to me was the realization that I didn’t have to wait until the rain had ended to see a rainbow. Both sun and rain are needed at the same time.
In my soul I was reminded of God’s faithfulness —I am here. I am here in the rain. I am here in your pain.
Soon after I noticed God’s sign in the sky and I caught my breath, I began to sing the chorus of a poem I had written years before:
In the midst of storms, rainbows are born, His love shines through our tears.
In the midst of storms, rainbows are born,
He is here, He is here.
He loves you, my sweet sister. He promises to be with you through the storm. Just as Noah and his family stepped off the ark to realize the beautiful bow in the sky, the fresh arched piece of God’s gift of glory covers the roads you embark on.
Sweet surprises are ahead for you.
Your part is simple… just like my husband encouraged me, “Look for the Son.”
* * *
In the Midst of Storms
* * *
Kind Kisses
~ Sometimes love means being kind first. ~
If looks could kill, then every morning she killed me again, and again.
Each morning that she dropped her daughter off at our school, our paths crossed, and I noticed her body froze, her face turned to stone, and her eyes pierced my own when I greeted her. The constant reminder of how much discord existed between us when we saw one another seemed to make her more irritated and miserable.
Months before, we’d had a tough meeting. It happened when my job had been to set some boundaries with her after her unpleasant words toward one of my employees. As a result, she was asked not to interact, or even to approach that person for a temporary period.
My assumption had been that she would pull her child from the program, but instead, she kept her daughter in our community because she thrived in our care. But maybe, she had just stayed to make my life miserable.
So far, she was winning.
I felt ready to move on and to forgive her for the incident, but her eyes demonstrated that, “if looks could kill,”then she wished, instead of moving on, that she might want to, “move over,” my dead body.
My initial tactic had been to act cheerful and friendly when I spotted her arriving at school with her daughter. “Good morning!” I’d greet her with a smile, and tried to push through the uncomfortable situation.
The upbeat engagement that I attempted only seemed to result with her increased irritation. Her already anxious face grew exceedingly serious each time she stepped through the door to leave her daughter before going on to her high-level corporate position.
Unfortunately, I am ashamed to admit that I grew weary and turned my greeting into one of sarcasm one morning when I called out, “Have a nice day!” She picked up my tone, and responded in a like manner, leaving me with a feeling of defeat and disappointment in myself.
Weeks passed while I now resorted to avoid her. However, the daily tension became so great, that I decided to zero in on the problem with God.
“Oh Lord, what can I do to make this better?” Vaguely recalling a Bible verse from Proverbs about winning over an enemy with kindness, I began a google search. “A gift in secret pacifies anger,” it states in Proverbs 21:13.
What gift could I give her? I kept thinking about this, and praying. I realized that some common ground that we shared was the joy of her daughter. In fact, this woman was a wonderful mother, even so much that she chose to leave her daughter in the best situation despite her own personal discomfort. Maybe I could write her a card about her bright and engaging daughter that she could read in her own personal space. Taking a pen, I shared the truth about what a gift that Becky continued to be at our school. To illustrate, I included some specific examples for her encouragement.
A few days later, our paths crossed, and this time her face softened when she saw me. She approached me and thanked me for the card. After chatting briefly about her amazing daughter, we both went on to enjoy our day.
“Looks can kill,” but a thoughtful, authentic gift can heal.
* * *
Creamy, Cool Kisses
~~Sometimes love remains anonymous~~
Yesterday marked the anniversary of my infant daughter’s ‘Heaven Day.’
After 40 days of encouraging ups and heartbreaking downs in the NICU, God’s loving presence embraced me as I held my baby’s beautiful, perfectly formed body for the last time. Peace covered me like the soft, warm wings of the angels that carried her home.
Days later, while I watched her tiny coffin lowered carefully into the frozen ground, this peace continued to cover me as the thick, white snow clings to a barren tree.
Soon after all my friends and family went back to their own lives, I realized why the loss of a child has been described as having one’s arm cut off. The limb will never grow back, and the pain is agonizing as the process of the raw, open wound slowly heals. Insensitive comments and pat explanations sting as if salt is being rubbed into the open wound.
My husband and I both carried gaping wounds and grieved differently. As a result, we could not comfort each other. During this lonely, terrible time of darkness, my sensitive small daughters each regressed as they reacted to the recent rollercoaster of events and emotions. The oldest, who before Megan’s death had been potty-trained, reverted and started to cling to me for support. Both vied for my attention, and bickered between themselves. I struggled to care for them as the grief sapped so much of my energy.
For example, I remember standing at the sink one day, and yelling out to God, “Why did you give her to me… only to take her away?” Tears ran down my cheeks and I shook with pain. Underneath my anger cried a hurt little girl who felt that God had ignored her prayers. Truly, I had begged for God to heal my baby.
A few months after both the funeral and my emotional outburst to God, I bundled up my two older daughters (three-and-a-half, and two-years-old), and drove to the local mall. Soon after we arrived, I decided to buy ice cream for my precious little ones in the food court. When I approached the register to pay for it, the cashier explained that our treats had been taken care of. The bearded man explained, “Each day a man comes here, and picks someone to buy ice cream for. Today he picked you and your little girls.” Oh what a sweet kiss from God when I needed it the most.
My need wasn’t money, for I had plenty to buy ice cream. But what I had needed to know was that God saw me. I needed to know that He cared about me, and that He would tend to my tender faith and raw questions.
I now had proof that I was not alone. This was the beginning of my awakening to the fact that God saw my sore, hurting heart, and grieved with me.
He would gently guide me through my it, and help one moment at a time.
God’s loving touch of sweet provision soothed my raw, hurting heart as cool, sweet ice cream runs down and coats a sore throat.
Twenty-four years later, my eyes still fill with mist when I remember how I felt during this time, the lowest and loneliest season in my life. But then those sad tears join with ones of gratefulness as I also remember God’s personal kisses of kindness.
I now realize how important doing acts of kindness anonymously can be, for then the recipient does not have to use up energy to repay anybody back. Because of this, the recipient can truly receive a gift from the hand of God —the One who is The Giver of all good gifts.
I call these inspired and Spirit-led acts of kindness giving a KISS from God.
K – Kindness
I – In
S – ‘Spired by the
S – Spirit (The Holy Spirit)
A KISS is different from the often referred to, “Random Act of Kindness” or “RAK,” which has the connotation of just being due to random luck. Instead, a “Kiss” in not accidental at all, but consists of who looks and prays for someone who is hurting, and by listening to God, takes action for how to best respond.
“What is Love to me?” someone might ask.
A small cone of vanilla ice cream given by a stranger.
* * *
Discussion questions for those that want to delve deeper:
1. What does a rainbow promise in the Bible? Look up Genesis 9: 9-17. The Bible begins and ends with a rainbow, for in the last book, Revelation, a rainbow circles God’s throne. See Revelation 4:1-4. What do you think this means?
1. Ponder and share a specific way that God has ‘kissed you’ recently with His kindness.
1. In Kind Kisses, a written note softens a strained situation. Have you ever given or received such a gift? Is the Holy Spirit leading you to express love to someone in your world?
1. Sometimes, like in Creamy, Cool Kisses, the best kind of gift might be anonymous. Why is it more difficult to give in secret? Or, is it easier? Share an example from your life.
1. How can we allow the Holy Spirit to guide us so that our ‘kiss’ reaches the right person at the right time?
1. Look up Colossians 3:12-14. Read it slowly. How can your love act like glue in your relationships?
1. How is the acronym RAK different from KISS? Why does the word, ‘random,’ not work as well in our walk with the Lord?
* * *
Time for a Dessert Challenge
Place a giftcard in an envelope with a short note that says,
God sees you and adores you, for a neighbor, or a friend who is struggling.
Sometimes an earthly example —such as that of a criminal before a judge— might help explain one of the most overwhelmingly, incredible, and mind-blowing spiritual truths. Imagine that you are about to go before a Great Judge. You have been apprehended, and you must give an account for any wrongs committed during your lifetime. In private, you meet with your attorney and you confess all that you have done. At the scheduled time, your attorney, who acts as your most important advocate, appears before the judge, and states your case: “Your Honor… yes, I agree, she is guilty as charged.” Your mouth drops open, and your eyes widen with fear. You stand shocked, feeling betrayed. “What?!! I thought that you were here to defend me?” You scream, turn red, and fall on the floor, “Why don’t you help me?!!” If the illustration stopped here, then we would all be without hope, but… What if we caught hold of the heavenly picture given to us in God’s Word? Now imagine that you are sitting with your advocate, Jesus, before the Great Judge, God, whose role is to make sure that Heaven remains holy and perfect with no sin, sickness, or sadness. “Your Honor… yes, I agree. If she came to our heavenly home, then her sin would ruin it. I concur with you that she deserves the death penalty, and that she should spend eternity in Hell. She is guilty as charged, and justice demands that she die as a consequence.”As this spiritual court holds greater authority than any earthly court, you crumble under the hopelessness of the crushing verdict. Plummeting to the ground, you sob, and cover your tear-stained face. But finally, when you manage to look up, you realize what you could have never expected. Pure, hot holiness flows from your advocate’s eyes, and blinds you with an indescribable love. He stands and declares boldly, “I have taken your death sentence for you. I love you, and I want you to spend eternity in Heaven with Me where there is no sin.” Then He asks, “Will you let Love stand in your place?” Overcome with joy and tears all at once, you cry, “Thank you… Oh, Jesus! Thank you so much! I will! I do! Yes! I believe You.” In an instant, you notice that the handcuffs and shackles of all your past wrong-doing falls from your arms and your legs. You are free! Jesus kneels to embrace you. He calls you a child of God, a family member, a friend. He lifts you up and renames you ‘princess.’ Now, you are a flawless, beautiful, and restored daughter of the King of Kings. Hand in hand, you and your heavenly advocate dance out of the courtroom as you hear the judge in the distance pronounce: “Not Guilty.”
The Garden of Paradise ~~Sometimes Love Means Losing Count~~ While no one would describe me as having a green thumb, I do know some gardening basics: Water the plants early in the morning before the hot sun comes out, Prune dead branches to let the sunshine in, and Pull a few weeds every morning so that your beautiful flowers are not overtaken. Gardening requires daily, steadfast attention, as is necessary for any relationship. In a similar way, God invites us to co-garden our hearts with Him personally, every day. Living in community might give us a glimpse into someone else’s garden. It can get complicated if we peek over the hedge and jump to judgments about what should be done about someone’s plant (or, a weed) that we notice. I carried a regret for years when I reacted too quickly to a situation where I did not have all of the facts. It all began when I overheard talk of a friend’s major life choice that I quickly labeled as a huge mistake. Instead of taking the time to call her, and to listen, my quick assumption added to her painful stress. It had been a tough time in her life, and she’d had to make monumental decisions. I lacked information, and did not understand her whys. The situation grew even worse when I left her a passionate voicemail pleading with her to change her mind. Instead of coming alongside her to understand, to hold her hand, to comfort her, or to assist her in any practical way, I stood at a distance and drew conclusions. Our friendship died. Weeks later, continuing to think about her, I decided to send a quick apology. I hoped that she would hear my perspective. But still, I had not heard hers. Mother Teresa wisely said, “If you judge people, you have no time to love them.” For a couple of years, this corner of my garden lay barren, wrapped up with the weeds of my own self-righteousness, pride, and regret. This small area lay neglected because I did not invite Jesus into it during our gardening dates in the cool of each morning. It was only after much time had passed since my insensitive responses that I wrote a true letter of apology. With more life experience, I realized my wrong. I felt truly sorry, and told her so. This time I made no excuses. Then, I waited. And waited. And waited. For a reply. Two weeks seemed like an eternity. The day finally came that I opened up the mailbox and saw the pink envelope with her name in the return address. “I received your kind words, Amber. I just want you to know that I forgive you, and I love you. God knows everything about it, and He loves us both,” I read. Collapsing into a nearby chair, I soaked in the refreshing, life-giving words. Grateful tears began to flow down my cheeks as I thanked God for helping us… He enabled me to write a sincere apology, and then He helped my friend to gracefully forgive me. How can I describe the relief which I felt when I saw these generous words? Like a fresh rain in springtime, they watered the dry garden of my heart. These actions pulled up the weeds of regret leaving holes in the dirt that God could now cover with His liquid love. What could be a sweeter gift than a friend’s undeserved forgiveness? What is more beautiful than a freshly weeded and watered garden? The result encouraged me about the importance to never stop weeding, and watering, and nurturing the garden in my heart.
Not long after, a different situation arose that caused me to realize that another corner of my garden had a great need of tending. This time, though, it was me that needed to pull up the bitter root of unforgiveness. While in front of my computer early one morning, a former trusted friend messaged me. She requested a meeting, implying that she might want to reconnect again. I felt conflicted. Years before, this person and I had separated for good reason. She had betrayed me, and had left only heartache in her place. Now she wanted to meet at a local restaurant. How should I reply? I decided to accept. I missed her, and I truly wanted to hear what she had to say. I had a tender softness for her because I’d mentored her, and understood her difficult situation. However, I continued to wrestle with how this interaction might go. In my mind, I played out a conversation and determined what I thought should happen, adding, “God, she had better take responsibility for what she did! She needs to show how sorry she is!” I thought that certainly she might, at least, shed some tears. A portion of scripture pierced my heart as I drove down the highway the next day: “Love does not keep a record of wrongs.” Ouch! Immediately, I caught a glimpse of the list I had held in my mind of all the ways in which she had wronged me. Her selfish choices had been like a surprising, stinging downpour that caused mulch to scatter everywhere in a yard after a storm. I wanted her to feel my pain. I wanted her to grovel. I wanted her to show me that she “got it.” It now occurred to me that I was not yet ready to fully forgive. I realized I needed to pray and ask God to help me more in this process before our scheduled lunch. Shifting from my laser focus on her shortcomings, I redirected my thoughts to how I had mentored her and loved her like a daughter. That is why her betrayal hurt so much. I focused on all of her beautiful qualities, and on how helpful she had been in so many tough situations because of her calm demeanor. Then I imagined how hard it might be for her to meet with me. She must be so nervous. The story of the prodigal son became my source for instruction. The father had not waited for his son to fall on his knees in front of him and to show visible anguish. Instead, the father ran out to greet him, and even had a gift (a ring) ready for him. The father connected the dots that his son’s decision to walk toward home showed a change of heart. With this idea in mind, I picked out a special bracelet to give her, and I grew eager for our meeting. In the meantime, I prayed for her, and focused on the positive memories from our past times together. By the time the actual meeting took place, the need to go into detail about the reasons we’d parted ways seemed of little importance. Our conversation flowed, and we caught up on each other’s lives. By the end, she simply confided, “It’s been hard, but I’ve made a lot of changes over the past couple of years since I saw you last.” “I know,” I gently answered. We returned to our reminiscing, and shared pictures of our families. That day, a poisonous weed of unforgiveness that had been in my heart had been pulled up, roots and all. The newly tended soil gave opportunity for God to restore our relationship in the days to come. Months later, I received an unexpected card in the mail from her that contained the words I’d originally hoped to hear. Although her actions had already spoken them, she shared her precious thoughts in writing. She communicated how grateful she was to now be a part of my life again, and also, how forever sorry she is for her past mistakes. My eyes grew misty as I read this letter of acknowledgment —a letter so much sweeter now that I did not require it.
Who Will Fill the Hole? Poem by Amber O’Brien
I should have used my ‘big girl voice,’ I should have said, “Will you please fill the hole?” as the family Packed up their plastic toys and shovels. For I knew what they did not; for A hole left open can lead to heartache. Years before a woman on a nearby shore stumbled in the dark, And she fell into a neglected hole; She couldn’t climb out and she soon fell asleep. Early the next morning a sand-cleaning machine Pushed the sand over her and She. Was. Buried. Alive. The reporter urged the viewers, “to please fill in the holes,” After scooping sand, and sculpting castles. But, there are some gaps we cannot fill up, On. Our. Own. I thought of my own mistakes: As a mother. As a friend. As a sister, a daughter, a wife, Would my regrets ever end? So many pits, so many pangs of remorse. How many people have fallen into the holes that I’ve dug, With clenched fists of selfish pride and fear? Or, on the other hand, How many people have hurt me, and bore huge holes in my own heart? But I worsened my wounds with unforgiveness and Allowed the gaping holes to fester with self-pity. This huge hole left in the sand in front of me represented all my failures, and I sat anxiously in my beach chair pondering what to do. I didn’t have a shovel, Or the strength… for I now finally comprehended that, All these holes together formed a Grand Canyon-sized chasm that separated me from holy heaven. Who will fill the hole? Downhearted and distressed, I grievously gazed at the ginormous gulf, Paralyzed with despair. Who can fill the hole? Then a lifeguard, Wearing a blood-red tank top, With a white cross sealed over his chest, Climbed down from his high white stand, Kneeled in the sand, and With his open, bare hands, He gently, and carefully, pushed the sand from the rough edges, And He. Filled. The. Hole.
Ch. 3 Discussion questions for those who want to delve deeper:
Have you ever been to court before? Did your lawyer defend you? Did you plead guilty, or not guilty?
Read slowly I John 4:7-21. Where does love come from?
Why is Jesus the perfect mediator? Read 1 John 1:8-10 and 2:1-2. Why is being honest about ourselves to God necessary?
Why is it so hard to forgive others? Let us look to Jesus who prayed these words from the cross: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34).
Describe the process that you use to forgive. For example, the author sometimes finds it helpful to write a letter to someone who has hurt her, and then to rip it up. Next, she writes down ten good characteristics about the person in order to gain perspective. What helps you to root out unforgiveness?
The poem Who Will Fill the Holes? is a modern twist on Revelation 5:1-10 which says, “Who is worthy to break the seals and open the scroll?” Why?
Read 1 Peter 4:8. What soothes the wounds that others cause? Is there someone who needs you to gently cover them with forgiveness? Or, do you need to forgive and show compassion to yourself?
Time for Dessert Close your eyes, and imagine Jesus earnestly praying for you: “Father forgive her, she knows not what she does.” Now picture those wounded hands embracing you tightly with a warm, long, and strong hug. And then… the Holy One takes off his pure white robe of righteousness, and wraps it around you. How do you respond to Him?
Ch. 3 from Amber O’Brien’s book, “Love.Always.Wins.”
~~Sometimes Love Means Planning a Retreat~~
Locked in our small powder room, I cling to the phone with my friend on the other end while my three children knock on the door and call out, “Mom, she hit me!” and, “Jacob won’t let me use the computer!” Then my husband chimes in with, “Amber, have you seen my shoes?” Ignoring the interruptions, I ask my friend on the line, “Have you ever wanted to just get away to a deserted island?” This scene is actually the opening of one of the many hilarious videos that I have submitted to the reality show, Survivor. If you think I am crazy for wanting to go to a remote location for thirty-nine days to live off the land, eat bugs, wear no makeup (yikes!) and to put myself in a situation that risks ridicule and failure, I don’t blame you. I have wondered the same thing, time and again. The producers must have wondered about me, too, after seeing the second part of the video that we submitted. My ‘director husband’ captures me on camera during a tropical family vacation in which I suddenly emerge from the sea of blue, sparkling water. After my exaggerated expressions of finding myself on the beautiful Caribbean beach, I skip toward the shore, beaded hair flying in the breeze, and full of pure, inexplicable joy —when BOOM! —Three children (my own!)— run into me, and knock me to the ground. As soon as I manage to sit up, I shout with laughter, “I meant without the kids!”
Yes, I confess to submitting videos and applications to be on the show more than once. I imagine that the overtired judges might have put their fingers in their ears as I belted out the tune of the Gilligan’s Island theme song, rewritten in my own words: “Just sit right back, and you’ll hear a tale,… the tale of a homeschool mom…” While the words might have been clever, my singing voice has never been one of my best assets. Nevertheless, creating the videos was always great family fun. In contrast to the lighthearted videos, the application questions forced me to dig deeper. One especially caused me to stop and ponder: “Who is your hero, and why?” I soon realized that my heroes were not the former winners of Survivor, or even the idolized actors or athletes on television. Instead, my thoughts turned to those unrecognized people who serve God every day in the way they take care of others. My list of heroes grew to include:
The couple down the street who care for a special needs child,
A woman who allows her personal anger to dissolve into forgiveness,
A friend’s husband who turns away from temptation,
Another friend who regrets a past decision, but now helps others not to make it,
The family who says “yes” to an unexpected child,
The couple who commits to counseling to reconcile their dying marriage,
A teen addict who seeks help,
A single parent who plays both the roles of mom and dad,
The list goes on, and on, and on, including all who face their challenges by choosing love. These precious people give, and forgive, when no cameras are rolling, and when no crew is watching. These “true survivors” endure hardship and heartache which last longer than a mere thirty-nine days. No chance of winning a million dollars, or of appearing on Good Morning America loom in the future to reward them. These are not sexy super-models, but they are the ones who ‘model’ for me who I hope to become. Despite my family’s support and our best efforts, I never did receive the call to come in for an audition. Yet, as time went on, my dream to be on the show remained. I tried to rationalize and justify my desires. The draw of adding to the diversity in this social experiment appealed to me. After all, I reasoned, they needed a Christian homeschooling mom on the show! I mean, how many homeschooling moms made it on the set of Survivor? Zero! (Of course, it’s questionable if any have actually applied). I also wanted justice. I just hated to see someone who lied and cheated get the win. Perhaps I could show them that the best strategy is to be truthful and trustworthy. Perhaps my mission field would consist of millions of viewers!
Mother Teresa’s quote rang in my thoughts: “Don’t look for big things, just do small things with great love.” Remembering her words helped to ground me, once again, to be content with the everyday roles that God had given me. I decided to pray, “Lord, take from me this desire to get away, if it is not of You.” Then. It. Happened. My desire “to get away” became a reality one weekend when I answered an invitation to attend a silent women’s retreat with a friend. So wonderful. My private room greeted me with fresh-cut flowers, and handwritten notes reminding me that others were praying for me. I felt spoiled by the delicious, homemade meals prepared for us, and the well-cared for lawns to walk throughout. Together, they refreshed my body and soul. I listened in the quiet, and I soaked up the devotions that seemed to be delivered just for me. “What is reality?” the priest asked. And then, he answered his own question: “Reality is the love Christ has for you,” he said, as his words stunned me to attention. “You might think that you worked hard to plan this weekend away, —but Jesus, for all of eternity, has been planning to spend this special time with you.” I believed that God had orchestrated this whole weekend all along. This respite (from the busyness of my routine and draining days) restored and refreshed me. After time to be still and reflect, to know truth, and to allow my heart to be changed, I left rejuvenated and clean, just as if coming out of a warm, soapy shower. I returned home as a re-energized wife, and a revitalized mother. I realized now that I had agreed to come because of those earlier stirrings in my heart to get away. It turns out that I didn’t need to flee to a deserted island. Instead, I actually needed to step away and be still for the eyes of my heart to be opened to the reality of God’s renewing love for me.
A Love to Last the Ages – A poem by Amber O’Brien
Jesus and me have a date today, Gonna be half past nine, He’ll tell me I’m beautiful, I’ll tell Him, forever, He’s mine.
Jesus and me have a date today, He’s gonna whisper in my ear, I’ll tell Him all my worries, He’ll tell me, “Girl, —never fear.”
For I am His, And He is mine, A Love to last the ages. I’ll share with Him my inner thoughts, He’ll whisper through the Pages.
Jesus and me have a date today, I know He’ll be on time, He’s always been faithful, Lord, help me, to be, ‘in kind,’
For He’s waiting by the seashore, My coffee table, too. Every red light is sacred, Lord, help me, to be as true.
For I am His, And He is mine, A Love to last the ages, I’ll share with Him my inner thoughts, He’ll whisper through the Pages.
Wrapped Around the Shepherd’s Neck
If you were a lamb, how would you describe yourself? Obedient, or strong-willed? Have you ever wandered off during your life journey? Perhaps you have not physically wandered away, but perhaps you have become emotionally distracted with the appeal of another lamb, one who appears fun and adventurous. Or, perhaps you ran ahead of The Shepherd in your excitement for a new grassy field in the distance. What if The Shepherd saw that you were about to fall off a cliff because of a poor choice? Imagine Him reaching out and using the end of his shepherd’s crook to save you from yourself. Your life is spared, but your leg is painfully broken. The Shepherd kneels down and with his strong, firm hands begins to pick you up, and places you around his warm neck. At first, you just think about your pain and become jealous of the other lambs that are frolicking down below. You writhe in discomfort, and question God with, “Why did you allow my leg to break?” Sometimes the agonizing hurt keeps you up at night. “Please, just heal me now!” you plead. But, in time, you realize that now you are close enough to hear the beating of the kind shepherd’s broken heart. His tears fall on your face, and you realize He is suffering with you. You are so close that you can feel His warm embrace and His compassionate kiss. You discover that being this close to the faithful shepherd, and hearing Him whisper in your ear is much better than aimlessly playing down below. You delight in your new names of ‘Chosen’ and ‘Entrusted.’ While still hurting and sorrowing, you start to pray for the lambs who are making poor choices, and for those who are also suffering in so many different ways (hunger, sickness, grief, loneliness, depression, and more). Then you pray for the entire flock, because you sense how His heart breaks for so many other grieving lambs, especially for the ones who will not let Him hold them and accept His healing love.
Then to your surprise, the shepherd declares that your leg is healed and you are now free to be released and play with the other lambs. What would you do?
Ode of the Crippled Lamb (poem by Amber O’Brien)
Dancing down the dry and dusty hills, They plead for me to come down and play, The leaping lambs bound past the Shepherd, Wrapped ‘round His shoulders, I long to stay.
This crippled lamb clings to you, Shepherd, So close I hear you whisper my name, I am stilled by surrendered suffering, Your kiss gives me purpose, midst the pain.
Once I followed the flock far from Him, To a steep cliff, death valley beneath, A shepherd staff reached down to save me, My leg crippled in Love’s saving reach.
Sweet love kneels down to bandage my wounds, He gently pulls me close to His chest, Limping along, love weeps for my loss, Healing me with His hot, Holy breath.
They plead for me to come down and play, Wrapped ‘round His shoulders, I long to stay.
Discussion questions for those that want to delve deeper:
When have you known that you needed to get away from the routine of your life? Where did you go? Do you need to plan for one in your near future?
The author thought that a spot on a reality show would fill her desire. Have you ever thought that fame or fortune would bring you fulfillment?
Who is your hero? Who do you respect for their generous Love?
In the poem, A Love to Last the Ages, the author finds time throughout the day to chat with Jesus. How can you experience similar “mini-getaways”?
Read the Song of Songs, chapter 2. Take out your journal, and ponder with your pen. In this love poem in the Bible, God is believed to represent the male lover, while we, His Bride, symbolize, “His beloved.” He says He wants you to, “Arise, come, my darling; my beautiful one, come with me,” (v.10). Write down the terms of endearment (the adjectives) that He uses for you.
Look up John 14:1-7, and write it out. How do we know The Truth?
In addition, look up Revelation 3:14-21. Who is knocking? Who must open the door? During the author’s weekend retreat, the Lord works in her heart to help her reevaluate her desires, wants, and needs. When you go on your ‘date with Jesus,’ perhaps, ask Him if there is anything that needs changing in your heart. Write it down, and ask for help and strength to be transformed.
Time for Dessert Set a time to meet with Jesus tomorrow morning, and schedule the date on your calendar. Grab your Bible, a journal, and a favorite pen. Choose a special spot to meet. A handy acronym, that I use, is ACTS. A = Adoration Pick an adjective to describe God’s character and express worship for Who He Is. C = Contrition Ask God to shine His light in your heart to reveal any actions or attitudes that might be harmful. Have honest conversation with Him. T = Thanksgiving Write down three good gifts in your life, and thank God for them out loud. S = Supplication List people you care about, and problems that you face today. Ask God for specific help. Linger and listen and look to the Word of God for direction, courage, and comfort. Write down a takeaway from your time such as a Bible verse, a keyword, or an important thought to remember
I took refuge in the bathroom of the hotel room, laboring with my pen and paper, and tried to give birth to a poem. My family played National Park Monopoly outside my makeshift office as I sought to describe, in written words, one of the most amazing, natural wonders of the world. The overwhelmingly gigantic gulf, composed of pastel layers of crumbling stone, contrasted against a desert blue sky. It spoke to me of God’s beauty, power, and timelessness.
Though hours had passed since my first encounter, I remained captivated by recalling the vastness of this immense abyss —so huge that the human eye can only take in twenty percent at a time. The ranger had explained earlier at the park that even a camera from an airplane could not take a photo of the entire range, but a satellite from the heavens is needed.
My oldest daughter, age 12, said over dinner, “The Grand Canyon makes me feel like an ant.” When I asked my younger two children why they thought God created the Grand Canyon, my son declared, “Because He loves us,” and his sister Katie chimed in, “To show us how Big He is… and how Old!”
Early the next morning we hit the trails again. But, in contrast to the feast of spiritual revelation and gratitude that I felt for the experience of the Grand Canyon National Park, my children grumbled. “My foot is stuck in the mud,” one complained as they walked the trails. “I’m too hot,” said another, just as the youngest bemoaned, “I’m too tired!” I noticed them looking downward at their aching feet while all around them the God of the universe whispered a Love Song.
Whispers from the Grand Canyon
She beckons the weary eyes of the world,
Canyon after canyon of crumbling curls,
Layers of sand, suntanned and hand-swirled,
Bronzed desert beauty queen among girls.
Come sweet mysterious beauty sublime,
Whisper of ancient secrets now buried,
Who poured out each towering layer of time?
Can a bridge to cover this gap be carried?
Love older than the stones that crumble,
Love tender bridged the immense abyss,
Love beyond measure became humble,
Sealed with a Kiss,
Bliss, sweet bliss, filled the abyss,
Sealed with a kiss, bliss, sweet bliss.
She draws suitors with wild desert flowers,
Crashing lightning echoes down from the sky,
An hourglass poured from Love and power,
A canyon too grand for the human eye.
Love older than the stones that crumble,
Love tender bridged the immense abyss,
Love beyond measure became humble,
Sealed with a Kiss,
Sweet Jesus bridged the immense abyss,
Sealed with a kiss, bliss, sweet bliss.
* * *
In a famous interview of actor, Katharine Hepburn, by Barbara Walters, Katharine states that she is “like a tree.”
Barbara follows up with, “What type of tree would you be?”
Katharine responds, “Well I think most people would like to be an oak tree, as it is strong and pretty.”
Well, personally, I would like to be as a weeping Willow tree, whose deep roots reach down below the surface, to drink from the streams of living water.
The Weeping Willow Tree
Adelicatecascadeof greenery flows in the wind.
Translucent and serene, the willowy veil provides shade and refuge.
Tenderly she weeps and allows each tear to freely flow.
A strong, thick trunk supports the lush drapery.
Stableandstrong,therootfoundationsof the willow reach deep in the ground.
No squall or tempest will uproot her,
Though the relentless winds often rage and blast.
Oh, may I be as the weeping willow tree.
May my tears flow as freely
Whenthedefenselessinnocentsplayaround my trunk.
May my supple branches act as a shield
To the aged man who has come to drink from my shade.
May my thick trunk teach the widowed woman
As she hears the joyful rush of my leaves whisper,
“Don’t give up, stand as firm and free, as I.”
* * *
Discussion questions for those that want to delve deeper:
Where is your favorite nature place to go to relax and refresh? The forest? By the seashore? Or a nearby pond or lake?
What does this natural place reveal to you about your Creator?
What do you think God is speaking to you when you linger, listen, and soak up the beauty all around you?
What did the author perceive about her Creator when she stood in awe at the edge of the Grand Canyon? What does the canyon symbolize? What does the bridge symbolize?
Look up Psalm 19:1-4. List what the psalmist views in nature that causes him to want to give glory to God.
When have you been like one of the three children who complained and bickered as the God of the universe surrounded them so powerfully?
Look up Romans 1:20-23. Why are we without an excuse ?
Think about this: Is it easier to worship the creation, instead of our Creator?
Love . Always. Wins.
* * *
Time for Dessert
Read Psalm 103.
Underline the word “love” as you read this awesome psalm of praise.
