Friday Favorite #8

I am a candle-maniac. I love them. I think my true addiction to them started after college when I was just so excited to be able to burn them after the anti-candle dorm rules. Plus, I'm a total cheap-skate with the electricity bill in the winter, so burning candles and baking cookies are my primary sources of heat.

Today I went to Wal-Mart and loaded up on fall scents of candles. I came home, decorated the whole house with all the fall flowers and pumpkins and then I put those candles here, there, and everwhere. Even though I've had a cold this week and my nose is only functioning partway, I'm loving the fall spicy scents running through the house.

I'm a homebody at heart, so even though i appreciate a good Friday night out with friends, I also appreciate a good night at home with a cup of chai, a good movie, some books and magazines, and the glow of candles burning everywhere!!

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Last week I told you about my retreat and some of the lessons that God taught me about faith. There was so much more to the weekend than a duck and some candy, though. Here are some other things I learned.

The first day, before the retreat even started, I sat on the pier with my feet dangling in the rather chilly water. It was such a warm day, though, that the cold water felt good lapping over my feet. I was content to stop with my feet, however. I had no desire to be as bold as the couple behind me who actually donned bathing suits and went swimming. But as I sat there, I thought of the old Cathedrals song…Step into the water…wade out a little bit deeper…

It was just a little moment where I was laughing at my southern gospel overload coming back to get me, but God actually brought that moment back to me the next day when I parked under the tree and sat for two hours just listening and learning.

The morning started with a pretty spectacular sunrise – one of the very few I’ve seen in life. Sunsets, I’m all about. Sunrises – well, they’re pretty. If only they came later in the day!

By the time breakfast and our first session had ended and I was back by the water, the brilliant orange sunrise had also gone, but the sun still shone over the waters of the lake. A thousand sparkles glittered in the far reaches of the water…or was it more like a million? I sat there staring at them as they twinkled and fishing boats drifted over top of them. It was like God had opened the gates on the jewel-house of Heaven and poured out all of the finest just for me to see that day. Just a very sweet reminder of His love.

When I looked beyond them, though, toward the other shore of the lake, I realized I couldn’t see it. Though the sun shone, it was a hazy morning there on the water. I squinted, trying to see a large building that I knew stood just across from where I sat. If I studied hard, I could see the outline of the building. But all the detail of its magnificence was lost in the haze.

Just about then, I turned back to my Bible and found myself in Ephesians 5. A verse said, “Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is.” I wrote in my journal, God, Your will is about as clear to me right now as that big building across the lake. I know it’s there, but I can barely see it through the haze. Maybe that’s the point. Maybe it’s enough to know that Your will is there and to trust You to remove the haze when the time is right and I need to see it. Any time before then – it doesn’t matter. Maybe the biggest part of understanding Your will is understanding that it’s YOURS. The haze that shrouds the details will leave only when You’re good and ready for it to.

A breeze kicked up just about then and the water really started to rise and fall beneath its power. I looked out to see waves reach up and then collapse into a valley and even out – and then the process began all over again. I wrote, Fill me up with You just like You filled up this lake with water. And whether this water rises or falls with the wind, there is still water. Let me be so filled with You that whether I have a rush of the Spirit or a dry time, I still have You.

And then came the reminder – of the day before – of stepping into the water. About the will thing, God. Looking out over this lake – it’s just so big. The only way to get from here to there is go get in it. Step into the water. Wade out a little bit deeper. And I bet that as I get closer to the center, I could more clearly see what is across the way.
I am not really any closer to knowing God’s long-term will for my life today than I was that day on the lake. But it was such an eye-opening experience for me, because it taught me that I don’t have to know the whole thing right now. I only have to know the part I can see. And I have to be willing to step out into water that might be cold and deep and big. But just imagine what amazing thing might be on the other side of it!!!

Friday Favorite #7

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Fall shows are back. All is right in the world of schedules. :) And last night I enjoyed my first season premiere. I should say that I really don't have too many shows that I must see. But one that is on the must-see list is Grey's Anatomy.

I didn't mean to start watching it - I think I saw the first episode because I stuck around after Desperate Housewives when it first premiered. But I am hooked now - even though it's moved to a new night and I hate that.

The writers of the show post a blog on ABC's site - and I think that has contributed to why I like the show so much. I see what they put into it and how they struggle over it, and it just makes me love the show all the more knowing that the writers are cheering for their characters and hate it just as much as I do when something bad has to happen. (That's just the writer in me. You certainly don't have to think that hard about it if you don't want to.)

And of course - who couldn't love McDreamy or George? I liked George better before the great haircut disaster of season 2. But I still love George - regardless of the hair. And McDreamy. I almost missed a whole scene of dialogue last night just staring at his pearly whites and melting.

I cried when Dylan exploded. I bawled endlessly when Denney died. I've decided a name starting with D is bad luck on that show.

I'm not a fan of Callie or Addison - but if they left, so would the drama, so I know they have to stay.

Can't wait to find out what this season holds. It seems like there are as many careers on the line as love lives - and even in that - I want to know who stays and who goes. And how everyone stays even if they go.

So if you're bored on Thursday nights at 9 - make your way to ABC. And take your Kleenex box.

I MADE IT!!! - Day Thirty

That is code for "the greatest of these is love." Thirty days of focusing on love. Thirty days of learning to live a life consciously centered around loving others. Thirty days of retraining a mind mostly centered on self and ick...before.

I have to admit it wasn't an easy day. One time I found myself wallowing in a pity party when someone wasn't giving me the attention I thought I deserved. But I quickly reminded myself that it's not about me. I had to catch myself mid-eyeroll on a few occasions and remember that people's quirks are part of their charm - and I need to cut them some slack.

And at the end of the day, I have to say I was quite put out. I'm a girl who likes to live based on principle. And at the end of today, I found out one more of my carefully crafted principles had been shot down the tubes. I hate it when those things are out of my control and I am forced to succumb to someone else's rules. And on the walk to my car this evening, I had to sternly lecture myself on not letting myself become all uptight...easily angered, in fact??...over this unimportant-in-the-grand-scheme-of-life situation.

The greatest of these is love. The greatest goal is to love. To love God first and then to love everyone around me - whether they fit into my principles or not.

I'm not perfect at this (clearly). And I know that there will be many times in the days to come when it won't be my first nature to love. It may not even be my second or third. But, to go back to Jaena's admonition from the early days, I am very excited to see the changes in my heart since I did this 30 day experiment. I'm excited that I think about what I'm doing wrong WHILE I'm doing it instead of three days later. I think it's great that I'm beginning to stop the unloving behavior actually before it starts. I'm a work in progress...but I'm getting there.

I remember in some of those first days, I really thought I would not make it to this point. I thought I would surely die. And I haven't. I don't intend to give up the love now that the appointed time has passed. And it will seem odd to not report on it daily.

Would I take the challenge all over again? Of course!! If only I could be allowed to wait until the bold faith experiment is done..............

Hope - Day Twenty-Nine

I thought a lot about hope today. I hope I don't oversleep so that I can get up in time for a Wal-Mart run before work. I hope it's almost lunch time so I can eat. I hope it's almost five because I've had all I can take. I hope that phone number on the caller ID isn't who I think it is. I hope Bible study goes well and something said touches someone's heart. I hope I don't get the flu bug that I hear is going around. I hope I remember to tape Good Morning America tomorrow so that I can hear Clay sing. I hope Jo Ellen Hummel can keep those triplets inside just a few more days so they have more time to develop. I hope...the secret faith walk that I'm on with God...

That's a lotta hoping!

But this is my observation about hope. In each instance, regardless of how big or how small - how significant or how stupid those hopes were, something happened. I paid attention to how many times I hit snooze. I worked hard on a project so I didn't have to watch the minutes tick by until the lunch hour arrived. I stopped looking at the clock so I couldn't see how slowly it moved to the end of the day. I answered the phone so I could see if my worst fear was coming true (and it was). I studied a little harder for Bible study. I'm a little more careful about watching my hands. I wrote a note to set the VCR. I prayed for Jo Ellen and the babies. And you can believe I banged on Heaven's door about that faith business.

I did something. Hope drove me to action. And whether or not the result was as I wished for, the sheer hope made me try.

My faith makes me believe things are possible. My hope spurs me to do whatever I can to bring me closer to the possibility. Sometimes there's not much I can do - but if there's anything at all that can be done, hope is what pushes me to do it.

And how does that help me love? As long as I have hope in people, there's a reason to love them. As long as I have hope that my friendships will grow deeper and more loving, I'll keep reaching out and trying my best in those friendships. As long as I have hope that someone can change, I can keep loving freely. And in the moments when I lose hope, God can come through with a fresh supply if I'm willing to ask.

Several years ago (okay, four), Max Lucado wrote a book called A Love Worth Giving. I probably should have abandoned my own deciphering of this chapter in favor of a re-read of that book. It's based on 1 Corinthians 13, and Max says most things better than I could even hope to think them. But as I pondered hope this evening, I remembered a quote from that book, so I dug it out of the tightly-wedged line on the shelf (time to expand the bookcase collection!!) to see the exact words.

"Hope is an olive leaf - evidence of dry land after a flood. Proof to the dreamer that dreaming is worth the risk." (p. 140) It's a great quote, but I have to admit that ordinarily I would not have remembered it. The only reason I do is because we studied this book in our Sunday School class, and on the Sunday we studied this chapter, our teacher arrived in class carrying Savannah. Savannah was just a few months old at the time - maybe five or six. And Pam sat there with Savannah on her lap and said to us that this little baby was God's olive leaf of hope to a family who had been flooded by grief when their first baby died. And out of that grief - out of that loss, God sent an olive leaf of hope - and olive leaf named Savannah.

Savannah is four now - and Sunday night proudly displayed her newfound talent of blowing up balloons. She handed me the slobbery, slimy balloon and said "You wanna try?" Uh, no thanks baby. You can keep it.

Tonight at Bible study, I looked across the room at her little brother. He's about that same age that she was when she became the Sunday School illustration, and he looks just like she did. (I can say this because he's 5 months old. When he's 15, we won't bring up that little detail.) And staring into his eyes and seeing his silly grin that so resembles the one she used to give me...I remembered that olive leaf of hope statement that Max made.

Sometimes hope is just that - a tiny olive leaf. It's not a forest or even a tree. It's just one leaf. But that one leaf can keep me going - keep me loving.

Faith - Day Twenty Eight

Alright. I've been telling you about the bold faith experiment without really telling you about the bold faith experiment. Last Monday night, I came home from an exhauasting two-day adventure of RUNNING. I had come home from my retreat Saturday night and within an hour had overnight company. I was thrilled about that - but being the Martha that I am, I had to whip up brownies and clean up clutter and...and...and. Then Sunday afternoon, between morning and evening church, I rushed around madly setting up a prayer partner group for our ladies at church and preparing the evening service - a special one just for the ladies. Then promptly upon arriving home from THAT service, I had to begin preparing for the first round of Ladies Bible Study which began last Monday night. So by the time I got home Monday night, I was pooped. I fell into bed with a Pampered Chef catalog and realized that was the first rest I'd seen since my weekend of amazing rest.

I'd just begun to drift off to sleep when God woke me up. I tried to argue that I was sleepy, but I've learned not to do that. He seemed urgent. He reminded me of my pastor's sermon the day before - about faith. About bold faith. Yes, I remembered it. Couldn't He see the page of notes I took?

Immediately He planted in my heart something to pray about. It seemed ridiculous. I rolled my eyes. But He prodded again. What??? Why should I pray about that? It's too bizarre. Get up and pray. And in fact...not only get up now and pray, but pray for 30 days. WHAT?? I'm in the middle of another 30 day experiment!! I'm going to have to quit my job to make time for experimentation! But the feeling only got stronger. So I crawled out of bed, rummaged through the closet for a new composition book to make as a journal for the 30 day expeiment. And I uttered my first prayer about it. I am pretty sure I blushed during it, because it just seemed crazy.

But I'm telling you, every day for the last week, that has been the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing floating through my head at night. And literally dozens of times during the day, there the challenge goes.

Yesterday I found myself begging God for the situation to be resolved. I was in full-force pleading status and God stopped me in my tracks. This 30 day experiment is not about begging. It's about believing. And I have to learn in my heart that there is a difference. God wants to see if I have enough faith to believe that this totally outlandish, impossible, crazy idea could actually take place. And let me tell you - it's so out there, that it would have to be a God thing if it actually happened.

But for the next twenty-something days, I'm pressing forward in prayers of bold faith, proclaiming God's ability to do the impossible. I am growing my faith.

What does any of this have to do with love? Well, the end of the chapter says that these three remain: faith, hope, and love. And I think that in my life of loving other people, there are going to be times when the only way I can love them is if my faith is big enough to let God change me into a loving person. Or into the loving person that they need at that time. My love is pointless if it's not rooted in a great big faith in a Great Big God.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Last weekend I went on a retreat. It seems like so much longer ago than just last weekend, as you may have read in my most recent posts about love.

The weekend was amazing – the perfect pick-me-up in between a couple of stressful weeks. But beyond the time of rest that it was – it was a time of learning. So I thought I would share with you some of what I learned. There’s too much to pack it all into this week, but maybe I’ll write about it again next week.

One of the big lessons that God taught me that weekend was about faith. I had no idea that promptly upon my return from the retreat, He was going to send me on a bold faith experiment that I can’t even fully explain to you because I don’t fully understand what it entails. But there were a couple of moments that weekend that were about faith and knowing what it means to be provided for by a loving God.

Marie and I went up to the retreat early so that we could spend some time by the water before everyone arrived. We got to the grounds about 2 in the afternoon, dumped off our stuff and headed straight for the water. We were out there a while, journaling…soaking up the sun…splashing our feet in the water…and trying to figure out the mysterious couple hanging out nearby.

Because of my unusually large breakfast that morning, I’d skipped lunch, so by about 3:30, I was ready for some food. I hadn’t brought any snacks, and dinner wasn’t for a couple of hours. I whined around on the pier, so finally, Marie and I decided to see if the gift shop carried food. We pooled our pitiful collection of pocket change for a bag of microwave popcorn and headed to the vending machine room to pop it.

The bag overheated and caught on fire. While we waved at the air and watched the sad stream of smoke rise from the smoldering bag, my tummy rumblings grew louder. I was just so hungry! We headed back to our room and while we fished around for more money, I caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar black bag resting at the foot of each of our beds. “Marie, look! Someone was here!” I grabbed the bag, which bore the women’s ministry logo from the church – and I tore through it. Inside there were bags of candy!!!

I didn’t even think twice. I looked up and said, “It’s Jesus candy!! He heard me say I was hungry!!” We dug around more to find what other treasures were hidden inside and found a keychain in each bag. Mine was purple, and hers was pink. If you know the two of us, you know that I’m the purple girl and she’s the pinkster! It couldn’t have been more perfect. And aside from the way the candy corn and Hershey kisses calmed the hunger pangs, I knew that God was looking out for me. He cared enough to send food – chocolate, no less – to a hungry girl who lost her popcorn to a microwave mishap.

The next morning, during the prayer-walk time, I sat on the edge of the lake and listened as God shared with me so many things I needed to know. Some of them are things that I may not even know yet why I need to know, but they’re in the reserve of my mind for whenever the moment arrives.

While I sat by the lake, the water began to lap from a swell somewhere out in the deeper waters. Then the wind caught hold of it and it began to splash in earnest up near the shore. I thought about the old illustration I’d heard when I was a kid about how the wind is an example of God at work. You can’t see the wind, but you can see what it does, so you believe it exists. And so it is with God…

So as I thought about that, I noticed a lone duck floating by the spot where I’d parked to learn. I wrote in my journal, The duck swimming by just floats atop the water – even when a bigger wave swells, it sits calmly, able to take whatever it is that comes its way. I know, I know. Under the water where you can’t see, it’s kicking ferociously. But all I could see was the calm duck riding atop the wave. When the water kicked up, it rode with it. When the water dipped, it didn’t freak out. It just continued to ride the wave.

I’m a freaker outer. I have lessons to learn from a duck. I need to learn to sit and ride the waves and dips.

But that wasn’t the end of the lesson for me. I realized, after the duck was safely under the pier on his way to wherever he was going…that I forgot to take a picture of him!! I have to do a scrapbook page of my weekend and all I learned. I’d just learned something huge from a duck and I forgot to photograph him!

I know it sounds crazy, but I started praying for another duck to swim by. I waited and waited and began to think the duck I’d seen was some angel-duck who had vanished into thin air leaving behind no family or friends. And then several minutes later, after I moved out to the pier, a duck swam by. I grabbed the camera and started taking pictures.

My faith was too small. I had given up hope that any other ducks swam the waters of Lake Wawasee that day. But just as God sent candy to my hungry tummy, He sent a duck for my scrapbook page. And in those things, I began to learn that if God can do that, no task is too small, too big, or too ridiculous.

It All Boils Down to This - Day Twenty Seven

I can't believe I'm at the end of the chapter already. Moreover (does anyone use that word anymore?) I can't believe it took me an entire month (almost) to get through a chapter. My guess is that this is why my yearlong commitment to read through the Bible in the said amount of time is NOT GOING WELL. It's all I can do to get through the daily portions. I get little out of it. But reading 13 verses in 30 days would take me...a long time...to make it through the whole Bible.

The last verse of the chapter...another famous one. "And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." Just finished days of thinking about all the things that won't stick around forever. And now I have a reminder of the things that were here, are here, and will be here for all of time. And that list can be narrowed down to three words. Faith, hope, and love.

Earlier tonight I was watching the best of Jeff and Sheri Easter on TV. (That would be a new Gaither video, for those of you not familiar.) Sheri wrote a song that I absolutely love, and it's called "She Loved." Makes me cry every time I hear it. The idea of the song is to get you to think about what you'd want others to remember about you when you're gone. Sheri said when she was making her mental list of such things, every item began with "She loved." It boils down to love.

Faith, hope, and love. If you have those but don't have anything else...you're still okay. Because when all is said and done - if you have faith and live in hope and act on love - you're set.

I was just looking at this study note in my Life Application Bible, and it says, "Faith is the foundation and content of God's message; hope is the attitude and focus; love is the action."

What a perfect way to round out the last three days of this experiment! Three days, and three of the greatest things. These days will be my conclusion.

Friday Favorite #6

Last Friday I left for a church retreat (I went with another church....gasp...traitor!) and had an amazing weekend. I was so stressed out from work that I was literally forgetting to breathe at times. I had two big ministry beginnings at my own church this past Sunday and Monday. I was in desperate need of a time and place to move away from home, chores, work, phones, TV, stress, all of it.

See, that's my problem. I rarely vacation away from home, and whenever I am home, I'm checking work email and voicemail and popping into the office every five minutes. I can't stay away unless I am away.

So I went away.

And that place is my next Friday Favorite. We went to the Oakwood Inn on Lake Wawasee. That is a beautiful place to be. The water is beautiful and the Inn is just amazing. The room I had looked out over the lake and the sunrise - just a breathtaking view. The grounds are so peaceful - so many places to walk and enjoy beauty and see others - yet be so alone.

I had an opportunity to go up early before the retreat started and just go sit on the pier, listen to the water lapping, soak my feet, enjoy lessons and chats with God - it was wonderful. The food was great, the bed was comfy, and aside from a near mishap with an overheated popcorn bag and a microwave, the weekend was perfect.

So if you're looking for a place to get away - I highly recommend Oakwood. Here's their site if you want to check it out! http://www.oakwoodinn.org/

Comforting Thoughts - Day Twenty Six

I'm going to be in so much trouble by the time I'm done with this experiment, because some fully qualified, knowledgeable theologian is going to hunt me down an tell me everything I've processed incorrectly as I've thought about love and this chapter over the last 26 days. But I've tried to be honest all along that I'm NOT a theologian and I know it. I don't claim to be, I don't pretend to be, and truthfully, I don't want to be.

All I know are the bits and pieces of love-learning that have stuck out to me in this almost-month. And that is what I, in turn, share with you.

Today I thought about this part of the chapter: Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. I got stuck on the last little phrase there. I am fully known. This week it has been a great comfort to me that God knows me completely. He knows what a crazy emotional wreck I can be, and He also knows exactly how to comfort me in my moments of wreckage. He knows how to love me better than anyone else. And I love the ways that this week, He has put a tangible spin on that love.

Tuesday, I desperately needed a hug. I was headed for the bathroom at work, hoping that I wouldn't start crying until I got there. And when I arrived, tears still on hold, there stood a friend of mine. And after one look at the dam about to burst on my face, she reached out her arms and gave me a great big hug. I went back to my office and prayed that God would send a specific friend to me - and not ten minutes later, she stood in my doorway. The next day, I prayed for an email - from someone, anyone - to be waiting in my inbox when I turned on the computer. And one sat there, just as I needed. Chocolate arrived in droves that day - both from those who knew my need and those who didn't. Wow...thanks God! I am fully known - and He knew exactly what I needed that day.

The other key to this verse is that I don't know fully. I am still waiting on that opportunity to come to pass in my life. But it will happen. In the meantime, though, I can rest assured that God knows me and loves me completely.

I'm at the beginning of another experiment too - one that I'll probably be writing about tomorrow. It's a lot of work - just like this love one has been. It's a different kind of work. More of a heart work. But tonight I feel ready to keep going with it too, knowing that the God Who knows me fully would not ask me to take it on if He did not know (KNOW - not think) I'm capable.

Ultimate Love - The Ultimate Reward - Day Twenty Five

Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. I wonder what it will be like to look Love in the Face. I think we’ll all be surprised.

Being the “such a girl” that I am – being the lover of a good love story – love is on my mind a lot. And I think that for as many books as I’ve read on the subject…for as often as I’ve written about it…for as much as I’ve studied it in the context of the Bible…I have no idea what TRUE love is. And I don’t think anyone else does either. I think it is so big, that like eternity, we won’t be able to wrap our minds around it until we’re there.

I’ve loved a lot in my life. Don’t confuse that with being IN love. I’ve been there too – but not a lot. But I love many people. And as deeply and loyally as I love them – I have to think that it’s just barely a love compared to what could really be.

Again – I’m not a theologian. But I have to think that there is an invisible word in this verse. It’s like the implied “you” in “Come here.” I think it means Now we see but a poor reflection of love as in a mirror; then we shall see Love face to face. I think we have a lot to learn about love and until we see it embodied, we won’t get it the way that God intends for us to get it.

This whole section of this chapter is just one big reminder that this is not the end all of love. There is a lot to love – so many facets. And we have to work on achieving them daily. But there’s also that reminder that no matter how hard we work – no matter how much we achieve – it’s not over until it’s over. And it won’t be over until we’re in Heaven.

I think that in a way, it’s an exciting reward to look forward to. We who are faithful and hang in there and keep pursuing…we get to experience Love at its fullest. We finally get the last piece of the puzzle. That is an exciting thing to look forward to! Gives me reason to keep pressing on when this seems too hard.

Growing Up is Hard to Do - Day Twenty Four

Yesterday I allowed myself a pity party. For one day. I figure when you get tough news, the best thing to do is absorb. Once you’ve done that, you need to get on with it. So yesterday was my day of absorption. I cried. I got mad. I wallowed. I cried some more. I ate. I forced myself to keep going, but I really didn’t care how quality my existence was.

When I woke up this morning, I had a crying hangover. I hate that. My eyes still burned and my head felt foggy. But a good round of Starbucks will clear all that right up. So after a couple of hours out of bed, I was ready to be perky and pleasant again. I sternly lectured myself about refusing to fall BACK into self-pity.

That makes me think of this next verse in the Great Love Assignment of 2006. “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.” It’s a growing up process. Growing up in love. I’ve learned a lot in the last 24 days. I’ve been retraining my mind to think more loving thoughts. Yesterday I didn’t try. And because I let go of that discipline yesterday – even for just a 24 hour reprieve – today it was hard to get back in the habit.

I said unkind things. I opened my mouth when it should have stayed shut. I had to clap my hand over my mouth to cover muttered comments more than I should have. I slapped my steering wheel in the Wal-Mart parking lot. And my compassion lacked. And each time I had to catch myself in the act of not loving, I shook my head. One day did this to me? One day of relaxing?

I guess we’re born with the dominant unloving gene. That’s why when we’re kids, we think and talk and reason like them. But as we grow up and learn what is right, we have to consciously put what is natural behind us. And instead, we have to live in love.

That has been what this experiment has been about for me. Conscious decision. It’s a decision to study this chapter, to think about what it means for me, and then to put it into practice. Every day I have to think about it. And when I stopped – even for a day – I fell right back into old habits.

Scary that one day can do that. But it’s a good thing to learn now. I guess it’s like a diet – for those who have to follow a certain eating plan for their health. Even one day off the plan can have major repercussions. Like a diabetic. What if she threw the sugar rules to the wind and ate everything in sight for a day? I’m not a nurse (I only play one in advertisements). I have no idea what would happen to her. But something would. That’s why diabetics have to stick to a plan.

And so do I. This may be the Great Love Assignment of 2006, but boy is it ever about to be a lifestyle for 2006 and beyond!!

Just an Idea - Day Twenty Three

I gotta be honest. I have no idea what this phrase actually means. “For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears.” I mean I know what it means, but I’m not sure how that ties in to love. I’ve been thinking about it all day – at least in the parts of the day when I had brain cells.

Today was a tough day. Days when you get bad news are tough days. Days when you want to know the full scale of answers but you can't are tough days. That was today. So in light of that, I know what it means to me to “know in part.” To me it means that I can only see this tiny corner of a picture. Did I mention tiny?

But how does it tie in to love? Maybe it means all these things we do – the things that will eventually be gone – are just part of the picture. We pour a lot of energy into them now, but they’re just temporary. We do the best we can, but we aren’t perfect. Eventually we will be, though. When that happens, we can love perfectly.

Maybe it means to love despite the missing knowledge. I had trouble with "the list" of the chapter today because I was so focused on what was going on in my head. I wasn't very kind or patient with others because I couldn't look that far away from myself to extend grace to others. But maybe part of the journey is learning to show love while only being able to "know in part."

Maybe this is my “out” for pushing myself to levels I can’t attain. I demand a lot of myself. I demand perfect love. But truthfully, I don’t know how to love perfectly. I can’t know. It’s not available information to me at this point in my life. But someday it will be. And then I can be held to that “perfection” standard that I demand of myself now.

God demands a lot of us. If He didn’t – we’d go too easy on ourselves, I think. Or at least I would. But He knows we’re limited creatures, so maybe this is His way of reminding us that it’s not within us right now to know it all about love.

If that is the case, I like what it says about when the perfect comes, the imperfect disappears. It doesn’t subside. It doesn’t change. It leaves. All we have is a flawless love.

But in the meantime, we have to do the best we can with what we have…and in that, I can continue my work.

What Matters, What Doesn't - Day Twenty Two

But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.

The forgotten part of 1 Corinthians 13. After “love never fails,” everyone stops reading. But the chapter doesn’t stop there. It continues. And today it has several meanings for me.

When I first read that sentence, I thought, What in the world does that mean? It made no sense to me. But then I went back and checked out the opening lines of this chapter. They talked about speaking, prophecies, and knowledge. And for days, I wrote about how none of that stuff mattered if I didn’t have love when I did them.

But the truth of it is, none of that really matters at all. It’s all over eventually anyway. What really matters is the love.

This summer was my ten year high school class reunion. I was thinking about prophecies in terms of the predictions. Don’t all classes do the “most likely to” lists? Who remembers those in ten years other than those who received the votes? What about things people said? Well, the cliques are still there – at the ten year mark, anyway. But suddenly I care much less what others say about me, and for that matter, they didn’t say much other than “who are you?” The things they used to say were gone. As is much of the stuff I had to learn in high school. The bits I crammed in my head were gone after the test and haven’t returned. The predictions, the yammering tongues, the knowledge – all gone.

You know what’s still there? Friends who loved me. I still have good friends from high school. And what has stood the test of the decade is that bond. That love. That friendship. It hasn’t failed.

Today is September 11. The five year mark. All day today, the radio station I listened aired programs where people remembered and paid tribute. And that brought me to a whole new level of thinking about this part of 1 Corinthians 13.

All those who lost their lives on that day – their tongues were stilled. Their knowledge passed away. Their participation in life ceased. But what I heard over and over in the words of their family members today was that love lives on. What people remember was their love. The acts of love that they displayed through kindness, patience, protection, trust…all of that. It lives on.

So it doesn’t really matter, when push comes to shove. All the stuff we build so much around is fleeting. But love matters.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

It is Grandparents’ Day – so happy holiday to all you grandparents on the list! I spoke at my church tonight and told a story about my Grandma Freelan, so I thought I would make today a tribute to my grandparents and tell a little about them.

My Dad's Dad died before I was born, so I don’t have any stories about him. I just will mention him here so you don’t think I forgot him!

Dad's Mom was already migrating to Florida each winter by the time I showed up on the scene. Each year, she’d spend a couple of weeks with us in the fall and in the spring on her way to and from Florida. I lived for those weeks – I thought they were the best thing ever. It was probably the best vacation my Mom had from me when I was little. Because when Grandma was in the house, nobody else mattered.

And bless her heart, she put up with so much. Anything I wanted to do to her – I could do. Some days I was a teacher, and I’d set up a whole classroom and make her my student. I’d teach her history and English and writing and whatever else I was learning in school. She had to do homework and take tests and try to excel above the 20 other imaginary (yet very smart) students in my class. I was a tough teacher.

Sometimes I was a nurse and she had to have shots and medicine and her blood pressure taken and who knows what else. There’s a scary thought – me as a nurse. Just for the record…if you happen to see me wearing scrubs in a billboard photo in a few months, please know that I’m a nurse in photos and playtime with Grandma only…and you wouldn’t want me to try anything more than that where healthcare is concerned.

And sometimes I was a piano teacher. I’d sit beside her at the piano and make her count in four-four time. I’d set the timer and make her practice between lessons. It was great!! Finally, I could be in charge and let someone ELSE do the practicing!

I loved Grandma – tonight at church I shared about what a prayer warrior she was – how I think she prayed for every person on the planet by name. And she did not get off her knees until she had named them all. Grandma was the warrior to have on your side. I miss her – and I miss her prayers.

My Mom’s parents were much closer to me in location, so I spent a lot more time with them than just a couple of weeks twice a year. They spoiled me rotten. When I was little and spent the night at their house, they’d take me out to McDonalds and buy me a real Happy Meal with the toy included. Grandma would make root beer floats and I’d sleep on the couch with a row of dining room chairs beside me to keep me from falling on the floor. They always brought me a bell for my bell collection any time they went on vacation.

They came to grandparents day at school every year and everyone always knew they were my grandparents because they were the oldest ones and because my Mom and my Grandma look exactly alike. Grandma decorated my birthday cake every year and I still have a little green ceramic doll that sat on top of the cake when I was five.

Grandma and Grandpa were a great example to me of how to be best friends forever. They did everything together for as long as I could remember…and before that even. They had devotions and coffee together every morning. They went to church every week. They prayed for their family and were involved in each of our lives as much as they possibly could be.

I am thankful for their influence on my life. I love the way they welcomed me in to a family that already had a set dynamic, but they made room for me. I always felt special and welcomed in their presence. And I love it that now I have memories to relive every day when I wake up in the home that was theirs! (Although I do wonder what they’d think of the purple bedroom.)

So Happy Grandparents’ Day – and thank you to each of my grandparents that I had the privilege to know. Thank you for being the best grandparents ever. I miss you so much.

Falling vs. Failing - Day Twenty One

This morning in church, Pastor Steve asked how many people were reading 1 Corinthians 13. I didn’t even raise my hand – I just glanced at my neighbor and sighed. Then he said, “What are we – a couple of weeks into it?” Under my breath, I muttered, “Twenty one days, not that I’m counting.”

I was only muttering because his sermon today kicked me in the tail so hard I was already slouched down so far I could barely see over the pew in front of me. All I needed was a reminder of how love is….all the things I know it is.

Today was a busy one. I was in charge of the service for our ladies at church tonight – and as of about 2:30 this afternoon, I still didn’t know what I was going to say. That wasn’t a comforting thought for me!! But even as I hustled and bustled through all my analogies of plants and prayer (another blog for another day), I thought long and hard about the end of yesterday’s phrase…and about the next sentence too. “…always perseveres. Love never fails.”

Love never fails is a phrase that scares me. It is that one demand for perfection buried in the middle of a daunting list of goals.

But today those two phrases together struck me differently – and gave me some hope (which is what love is, you know) in the middle of worry that I’ll never be a woman of love. It says love never fails, not love never falls. I’m going to fall. I’m going to go to Wal-Mart and get impatient with someone on a scooter. I’m going to drive down a highway and be rude to some driver. I’m going to be selfish. It’s just going to happen sometime. I know it will. It will probably happen tomorrow, as a matter of fact.

But falling isn’t failing. Love doesn’t fail because it gets up when it falls and it tries again. And because it gets back up, it’s not a failure. And that is perseverance in action.

This sentence, “love never fails” usually concludes people’s recitation of the love chapter. It concludes the list, anyway. It’s not the end of the chapter, and I still have 8 more days of learning on this adventure.

But love never fails is such a perfect thing to end the list with, because it’s that great reminder. Love isn’t perfect at all these things all the time, but love never fails, so it gets up and tries again. It stands up, dusts itself off and resumes being patient…being kind…not envying…not boasting…not being proud….not being rude….not being self-seeking…not becoming easily angered…keeping no record of wrong…not delighting in evil…rejoicing with the truth…protecting…trusting…hoping…persevering…and then it starts over again.

A Proven Love - Day Twenty

Ten more days. Ten more days and a lot of ground to cover. I hope I make it through everything I’m supposed to learn!!

God took me back to the “always trusts” thing first thing this morning.

I was so looking forward to the prayer walk at the retreat. I went to this same retreat last year, and God met me in one of the most powerful ways of my life as I sat under a tree during the prayer walk. I was a bit dismayed this year to discover they’d constructed a climbing wall in my Jesus spot. I had to find a new bit of ground to claim for my learning area.

So I sat down near the water again – under a tree. Something had to stay consistent. Let me just explain something here. Last year, I was so overwhelmed by all that God taught me, that I ended up taking pictures of everything – the trees, the sun, the spot under the tree where I sat – all of it. I made a scrapbook page of my learning time with God. So today, when I went out in search of this year’s Jesus spot, I took my camera with me intending to document it all.

Several women sat nearby when God sent a lesson my way. The lesson included a duck swimming in the waters near the shore. One duck. He swam by, God used him, and he was gone. I wanted to take a picture but chickened out; I was afraid of what the ladies would say if they saw me taking pictures of ducks when I was supposed to be praying. So, pray I did. I prayed for God to send another duck. I would take a picture if He could just send me a duck. I waited and waited. No ducks. I began to wonder if this was just going to have to be an un-documented moment.

Then I saw him – a duck. And another – and another. Ducks everywhere. I got about five pictures! And as they swam and played, God asked again: Do you trust Me? Okay, God. If you sent a duck for a scrapbook picture, I know You can find the husband. Love always trusts. And love always comes through.

Love always hopes, always perseveres. As my thoughts leaned more in that direction, I thought about a friendship that today just seemed easier to walk away from. It was getting to be a hard one – and I was tired. I thought to myself, “Well, maybe I should just cut my losses and walk away from it.” NO!

Love always hopes. Love always perseveres. As I love others, I need to live in the hope of better times when the rocky moments come. And I need to stay with it regardless of how hard it seems to be.

Jesus always has hope in me – for my improvement. And He always perseveres in loving me even when I know I have to exhaust Him. Except that you can’t exhaust God.

How perfect that after days and days of studying about what love is NOT, I was able to study what love IS. I was able to learn it while resting and protecting myself and my love with God. I was able to gain hope of my own in learning to love…in learning to love myself, my God, and my friends.

Could not have been a more perfect end to this weekend and this sentence in 1 Corinthians 13!!

A Protected Love - Day Nineteen

What a beautiful day!! I had the privilege of taking today off work and getting away for an overnight retreat on a lake about an hour north of home. The sun shone, the sky was blue, the water lapped with perfect cool chill, and boats and jet skis sped by at a safe distance. I sat on the pier with Marie, both of us dipping our feet (well, I dipped, she splashed) in the lake water and taking in the sights and sounds of our retreat weekend.

While I sat, I thought about love. I pulled my Bible from my pink striped bag next to me to see what was next in the line of love learning. It was this sentence: Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

I thought back to my week of stress. At one point, I was so overwhelmed at work that I thought surely a stroke or heart attack hid in the very near future. I couldn’t breathe and the pressure of all that remained to be done seemed too much to grasp.

Love always protects. Well, it may not have anything to do with loving others, but certainly this weekend was protecting my health and sanity. I thought back to that day early on when I realized that I don’t love myself very well – that I need to work on loving myself before I can successfully love others. Perhaps this weekend is all about that love in action for myself. I needed to get away. I needed to have a day when I only had to check my voicemail or email if I wanted to. When the people who came to my office to see me would have to accept that I wasn’t there. Not this day. This day is for me.

I wrote in my journal, “It’s about You and me this weekend. I’m protecting myself by being here – away from what wears me down. I’m protecting our love by making time to rejuvenate it.

I think God appreciates it when we do that. When we protect our time with Him. When we realize the priority that this love is and we make time to focus on it and enhance it. After all, God’s love for me makes Him always protect me. Why wouldn’t it work the other way around???

Always trusts. Weekends away always make me think of the husband I don’t have yet. Especially today as I sat on the pier and watched couples stroll hand in hand down the sidewalk – or unload their car for a weekend getaway – or speed by in a boat – or take a swim off the pier. I found myself digging around in my Bible for some of those promises I’ve marked as assurances from God that love will eventually make its way to me.

Do you trust me? I could hear it as sure as I could hear the soft waves hitting the bottom of the pier. Good question, God. Do I trust You? Do I trust this love to do everything You’ve said it will do? I want to say yes, but I’m scared that my heart doesn’t really believe the yes. Love always trusts, though. Love always trusts God to take care of me – because He always has, you know.

I couldn’t even move on. It was enough. But I know this weekend – and whatever it holds in store – is going to be the weekend of learning about this whole sentence.

Friday Favorite #5

Deb, I promise I'm not stealing this one from you. It just occurred to me how much I love it after I used it this morning!! :) The Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. That is the best invention EVER. I was in a hurry to clean my bathrooms. My downstairs tub was I think the first tub ever made. It's porcelain, I think - and there aren't any ridges, but it is the most stubborn thing to clean!!

My upstairs shower has tons of tiny ridges in the bottom - you know, the slip proof business? Well until Mr. Clean made an eraser, they were also clean proof!! But that thing gets both of them clean in a hurry. No more getting high on cleaner and ruining nails while trying to get those stupid things clean so that I can get clean!

In other news, not related to the favorite, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOM!!! Today is her big 7-0. I took her out to breakfast and gave her presents, including yet another set of framed pictures of the cats. I'm sure she was thrilled at that. They even "signed" the card with their paw prints. I now have one blue and one red print trailed on the floor. But it was worth it. :)

Maybe THAT'S What it Means - Day Eighteen

I have confessions to make. The first is that today was busy beyond busy. It was almost four in the afternoon before the words “First Corinthians Thirteen” even entered my head. It was then that I realized I’d not really messed up and been super unloving, but neither had I rushed out of my way to drizzle love over everyone around me. I was simply on autopilot, trying to have time to breathe my way through the day. And it wasn’t going well.

The second confession is that today’s verse confuses me. Today it’s time for verse six – “Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.” I think it confuses me because I don’t consider truth and evil to be opposites. But the way that sentence reads, it makes them opposites.

I suppose to have thought about that perplexity earlier in the day wouldn’t have done me any good because I didn’t have time to decipher it. So I’ll throw out my thoughts on the subject.

Love does not delight in evil…

Evil. Bad. Negative. When I’m living in love, I won’t be thrilled about the bad things. That means I won’t secretly do a happy dance when someone gets what they’ve got coming to them. That means I won’t be a supporter of people who are out to mess up life for everyone else. That means I won’t be giddy when someone takes a hit in life – no matter how much I may want to dislike him or her.

I think it also means I won’t seek out a bad lifestyle. I won’t want to be drawn to the things that drag me or others down. I will want positive over negative.

And speaking of that – love rejoices in the truth. I’ve been learning a lot about the word “truth” lately. I’ve been reading Elizabeth George’s book Loving God with All your Mind, and I’ve also been reading Gracia Burnham’s book, To Fly Again. Both have addressed the subject of truth. Clinging to what we know to be true. Believing the truth. Truth in these books is presented as something rock-solid. Good. Right.

And that is what I’m supposed to rejoice in. I’m to live joyfully in all things God – all things true. And even if my world is filled with evil, God prevails with truth. And in that, I should rejoice.

I guess maybe they are opposites. Satan represents all things evil, and God represents all things true. So I don’t have anything to do with the evil and I have everything to do with the truth.

Thanks for letting me think it out loud. I think it makes sense now.

Another Key for the Ring - Day Seventeen

One step further today. Yesterday – love is not easily angered. Today – love keeps no record of wrong. Oh boy.

The two go hand in hand, actually. People like me who blow up at the slightest issue tend to be really great at keeping track of exactly how many times that’s happened, too. It’s one thing to feel angry and learn to curb it if it’s not a necessary time. It’s an even greater thing to be able to put it all aside. To toss the memory as far away as possible and never return to it again. Never hold onto it for ammunition. Never keep it around for leverage. Dispose of it. Fully.

This is a tough one for me because I’m a competitor. I like being in the lead. And sometimes I’m willing to do whatever it takes to retain the lead. If it means I have to pull out all the stops and remind others of what they’ve done in the past to now land them in spots behind me, I’ll do it. Yuck. That’s not a good quality to have.

I’m trying really hard to view this experiment in learning to love as it applies to my daily life. How it affects the way I view my co-workers, my friends, my family, the students I work with, and the general public – even the Wal-Mart general public. But I have to admit that this time, I’m viewing it from the way I behaved with my ex-boyfriend. I was the classic keeper of the books for the two of us, and looking back on that now, I feel absolutely terrible about it.

I love to journal – and I love the record it keeps of my life. I love being able to look back and see what happened – when it happened – and relive all those memories. But for me, the bad thing is that reading a 2 sentence paragraph can bring back an entire situation in vivid color and sound. So if I keep a record of the wrongs done to me, all I have to do is read my journal notes, and all those emotions flood back my way.

I’ve been blessed with a good memory for detail like that. I can’t remember important things to save my life, but with stories along the way, I have a great memory. And I doube I’ll ever be able to change that about myself, short of getting some sort of memory loss disorder. So there may not be a way for me to forget the wrongs.

But there is a way for me to throw those thoughts as far from me as I can when they pop up in my brain. I can choose to not use them against others as I tended to do back in the day with my relationship.

Maybe there’s a key word in this one too. Maybe the key is keep. Maybe the record of wrongs exists because it’s impossible to forget it. But I don’t have to keep it. I can choose to toss it.

A Key Word - Day Sixteen

The first day of the semester is such a perfect time to institute “love is not easily angered.” A day filled with constant interruptions and endless questions and little patience from the other side of the counter makes for an interesting lab experiment in loving constantly.

Amazingly, the day went well. After work, I took a trip to Wal-Mart. I figured that would be the true test of “love is not easily angered.” With all the students back in town, it was definitely a carnival of high pitched screams and carts piled with Ramen noodles, school supplies, and all the dorm room essentials forgotten before. But I managed to maneuver my way around everyone and left without being any worse for the wear.

But alas, God did not allow the day to pass without a test.

I came home and clicked “connect” on my computer to log on and post about the day’s experiences. After a moment of trying, the phrase “unable to establish connection” appeared. WHAT?? “BRAEYA JO!!!” I yelled. She must have ripped the cord out of the wall as she went rip-tearing through the house chasing after her brother. She gave me her most innocent look, but I just rolled my eyes.

I checked the connection. It appeared to be fine. “Braeya, did you rip it out of the hard drive? How’d you do that?” I went back to the computer and lugged the hard drive out of the cabinet. The cord was firmly connected in the back. (Although I did manage to disconnect some random – yet important – piece of something else in the process.)

Teeth were now gritting and mumbling had begun. I tried again. Nothing. I shut down the computer and restarted it. Nothing. ICK. Finally, in desperation, I tried calling tech support. I received the lovely recording from the woman who probably works a second job at a 900 number telling me in the most soothing possible manner that she would love to help me if I would simply enter my phone number and listen as she gave me options. At last I reached the part for troubleshooting. She said in her low, even, fake tone, “Before I begin, please know that there is a service announcement in effect for your area. If you do not wish to hear this message, simply say ‘stop.’”

A man’s voice piped up – this man clearly had not attended the same school of soothing instruction that the woman did. In a gruff, 90 mile an hour voice, he announced “There-has-been-a-problem-reported-in-your-area.-We-are-aware-of-the-problem-and-are-working-to-fix-it.-We-apologize-for-any-inconvenience-and-will-work-to-restore-the-issue-by-midnight.”

I pounded the off button on the phone and yelled, “MIDNIGHT!!! I DON’T HAVE TIME TO WAIT UNTIL MIDNIGHT! I HAVE TO BLOG ABOUT LOVE IS NOT EASILY ANGERED!!”

Oh. Oops.

I gave up at last and went to bed. As I stretched out, one word in that phrase became glaringly obvious. Easily. Love is not easily angered. There are times when anger is warranted. People get angry with other people – and that’s okay. But love is not easily angered. Love doesn’t get upset about every little thing. Love doesn’t get mad over the petty things. Love doesn’t go from calm to furious in 1.5 seconds. Love is cautious about anger. Reserves it for the proper, warranted occasions. Times when injustice has really reached its peak.

My job, I think, is going to be working on finding that line. Finding the times when anger is justified. When anger is used appropriately. But at the same time, I need to recognize the times I do not need to blow up in a tirade.

Easily. It’s my key word.

Love in Action - Day Fifteen

I'm halfway through the project. I have as many days behind me as I have ahead of me. Seems like a good time to sit back and take stock of how I'm doing.

While I'm writing this, I'm watching a double feature of the Duggar family on TLC. You know - the family with all the kids? It's amazing to me to watch Mrs. Duggar graciously live a life of love. I think she's got this chapter down pat. In a family that size, there's no room for the rudeness, envy, anger, and selfishness to get out of control. It would be chaos!!!

But it does make me think. If she can be loving with all those kids underfoot, surely I can be loving with only two cats underfoot! It's all about adopting a lifestyle. A heartstyle. And she's done it. She's contagious. Contagious with love.

Looking back over the first not-even-half of this chapter, I see how these words are slowly working in my heart. The people in my office may tell you otherwise (and they have the right), but I see progress. If nothing else, I catch myself mentally focusing on love as I talk...as I act...as I plan. I've clapped my hand over my mouth immediately after saying something - because I've recognized it as unloving. My goal is to eventually clap my mind over the thought before it comes out of my mouth - but for now, this is progress. I've prayed about people that are challenging for me to love - and I feel a (small) softening in my heart when their names come to mind.

It's as though these days have given me "love antennas" and I can tell they're working. I've not perfected it, of course. I'm not where I hope to be. But I'm a lot farther along than I was before. And for that, I'm very grateful.

Tonight I kind of skipped ahead in my reading just to see what sorts of projects await me in the second fifteen days of this project. I can see more work ahead. But I'm excited - because I love the changes I feel in my heart. I hope they're showing in my actions, too. That part I can't judge - I'll have to wait for others to tell me.

At least I'm no longer saying "It's about to kill me!"

Awakened with a Sermon - Day Fourteen

Love is not self-seeking. And God reminded me of it about the fifth snooze this morning. It’s a Sunday, and though I’m principally opposed to skipping Sunday School, it was very tempting today. I thought about how nice it would be to snuggle down for another hour. Catch up on some more sleep. Take a vacation day. Relax. Treat myself.

And then into my head it popped – love is not self seeking. Okay, I get it. It’s not about me. It’s a Sunday morning, so time to get up and get to church! Good thing I went too. We are still studying the Sermon on the Mount – and today we studied the section about letting your yes be yes and your no be no – and we talked all about being people of our word. I guess since I’m always telling people they need to suck it up and get to church no matter how tired they are, it’s a good thing I practiced my own preaching!

After church, I tried to get out the back door. There were a couple of people that I wanted to avoid – the kind that never let you get away without a ton of stories? But at the last minute, I chose to walk out the front with my friends, and in the process, was stopped by one of the very ones I had hoped to miss. The whole time he talked to me, Faith stood behind him with a grimace on her face – walking the fine line of staying beside me to support me and wanting to run. I finally waved her on. God was dousing me with “love is not self-seeking.” I got myself into this mess- it wasn’t her job to stay around and bail me out of it. So I refocused, tried to offer a genuine smile, and continued listening as politely as I could until he was done talking.

And then there was the afternoon. I was on a mission. Specific tasks to be accomplished. Much to pack into a very short weekend. My scrapbooking project was scattered all about the living room and writing awaited me just steps away in the office.

The doorbell rang. The neighbor stopped by. Haven’t seen him in months – and it was so good to see him then. So nice of him to stop by. In fact, all the while he caught me up on the land of driver’s ed and show choir and summer vacation, I remembered that I should really make more of an effort to reach out to my neighbors. I’m just still not good at that. Sigh. Love is not self-seeking. Put away the scrapping, Bekah. Don’t worry about the writing. Just get out and love people!!

This “not self-seeking” part concludes the is nots sentence. Love does not envy…it does not boast…it is not rude…it is not self-seeking. As I’ve worked on these things this week, it’s surprised me how often the remedy for these problems is patience and kindness. I never paid attention to the order before. But love is patient and kind first. Once you learn those two things, you can use them to avoid envy…and boasting…and rudeness…and self-centeredness. It really does all work together.

Sunday, September 3, 2006

Last Friday, I walked past all the dads in plaid carrying in mountains of clothing or computer pieces or boxes of who knows what that their kids insisted on dragging to school. Boy do I remember those days. (Yes, Mom and Dad, I can hear you. You remember those days too.) Up three flights of stairs we went, time and time again, carrying in my – what, 3?...4?...carloads of stuff? Hey, I needed it!

That was ten years ago now. Ten years since I left for college. Crazy. So I got this weird idea to look back and see what I was doing every year on September 3rd for the last ten years. Just to see how life has changed. Or not. So after consulting the trusty journals, here’s what I came up with.

1996. The new beginning year. September 3rd ten years ago today was my very first day of college class. I didn’t write this part, but I even remember what I wore – a denim dress and white sandals. My first writing class – Advanced Writing with Dr. Allison – followed by good old Psychology with Dr. Puffer. Oh, and let us not forget the night class – Fine Arts with Mrs. Williams. I already knew after the first class that 3 hours and my attention span wouldn’t mix. I wrote, “If I could stay in focus, it could be a fun class.” And of course I celebrated the completion of my first day of class with dinner at Burger King. Some things never change.
1997. The overwhelming year. September 3rd was the second day of class for my sophomore year. It was my first visit to Dr. Buck’s Novel class, which I labeled “tons of work,” Dr. Brown’s Nonfiction class, which I labeled “pretty good,” and Prof. Owen’s Spanish class, which I labeled “HARD!!” – followed by a desperate plea for my high school Spanish teacher to convert to the college level. The other excitement of the day was a trip to Marsh for groceries, the mass of homework, and the engagement announcement of a co-worker.
1998. The over-caffeinated year. September 3rd was a rare day when I did not write. According to what I wrote on the fourth, I had a sick headache all day on the third because I drank so much caffeine on the second that I didn’t sleep that night. Did you catch all that? Apparently I was so sick that I actually resorted to going home to Mom and Dad’s to get some rest. (Rest does not happen in college apartments when roommates are getting reacquainted after a whole summer apart.) I slept from 7:30 at night until 8:30 in the morning. Better take it easy on that Mountain Dew, girl!
1999. The devastating year. September 3rd was the first time I finally admitted on paper that my boyfriend was over me. I finally had to admit that the relationship I’d written in my mind to last forever was in fact, in its final stages. Wow, that was a hard one. I wrote about it for three pages. I will spare you the details – but it was the beginning of a tough month. (Oh, and I overslept that day too. I didn’t get to work until 8:21. But that’s pretty good for waking up at 8:06!)
2000. The disheartening year. September 3rd was not my friend this time. I had to admit to myself that one of my “loves” from days gone by was falling in love with someone I didn’t want him to even associate with. That just led to an entire day of pity partying – trying to figure out where I fit in life, since he was making it clear it wasn’t with him!
2001. The twitterpated year. September 3rd was a reliving of junior high behavior. One of my crushes (who shall remain nameless because it’s just too embarrassing) walked past my office twice that day. I spent most of the day analyzing why he did that – and how it fit into the grand scheme of the two of us together. Given that he now lives halfway across the country, I’m going to guess I was off somehow on my speculation.
2002. The sick year. September 3rd this year was a vacation day for me. Not sure why I was allowed to take off work during the first day of class, but they let me out! I had my first ever massage – which was amazing – and then I spent the rest of the day sick, sick, sick with a nasty stomach attack. I cried and cried, apparently. Let’s not relive that one.
2003. The boy boy boy year. September 3rd was worse than any junior high year – or perhaps all of them combined. I ran into one potential crush at Handy Andy before work – and I was so unnerved, I could barely get my coffee. Then another one showed up in the office – unnerving me further until I could barely work. And I got a call from another one that night – leaving me a complete mess in the head.
2004. The OH BOY! year. September 3rd was a GREAT day. In fact, the journal starts out this way: “:) Need I say more?” I’ll spare you the details, but I had a very nice visit from the once-upon-a-time “dream guy” of my whole life. It was a very very nice evening. I’m voting for more days like that one!!
2005. The year of rest. September 3rd fell on a Saturday – and what a perfect Saturday it was. My friend Faith came over and we scrapped all day long. I watched two movies after she left – followed by a coffee outing with Marie. I even treated myself to a new Gaither DVD – one that featured a song by who else but Ronnie Booth. J What a perfect day!

So here I am today – ten years later. Today has been a beautiful day full of more time with friends, more scrapping, more writing, a Little House marathon (they’re about to blow up the town here in an hour or so), and all sorts of fun. It has been a crazy ten years – the years of work, the years of disappointment, the years of unabashed stupidity, and now, the years of rest (a.k.a. boredom to some of you). But the years have been good in the long run – and while I wouldn’t want to relive a lot of them, I can’t wish them to be any different. They made me who I am today – ten years later.

Rude-Be-Gone - Day Thirteen

I thought I’d spend today thinking about pride again. Yesterday was a bustle of activity from morning until night, and although I tried to devote every spare thought to my 30 day project, I just didn’t have that many spare thoughts. By the time I had time for spare, I had no energy left to think!

But again – God had other plans. Even before I’d hit snooze the fourth time this morning, God was pointing out the phrase “love is not rude.” I was only thinking!! But apparently my thoughts were already headed down the path of rudeness – and I’d not even made my way out of bed yet.

And from there, I knew today was going to be a much bigger learning day than I wanted to think about on my day off.

I went shopping with Marie, and before we’d even made it to our destination, I’d glared at more than one driver and even called someone a dirtbag. And with every glare and every muttered word, God just kept tapping me and reminding me that love is not rude. Not to mention His reminders that I wasn’t in the driver’s seat – so it didn’t matter what I thought. It wasn’t my problem.

Then I got the lesson of the day. Marie and I stopped at a bookstore because I needed a new day planner. Of course I am incapable of stopping at just a day planner whenever I’m surrounded by books, so I was camped out on the floor next to the $4.97 shelf, when I realized I’d not seen Marie in a while. I got up and wandered around until I found her talking to a woman parked in the easy chair reading a book about divorce. They were deep in conversation and I just jumped in. I had no idea that God was about to use this conversation to teach me so much about love in action.

The woman talked…and talked…and talked. I was getting hungry, and I knew Marie needed to get home soon. I shifted from one foot to the other, wondering when the woman would stop developing “one more thing” to add to her story. And all the while, God ran the entire chapter of 1 Corinthians 13 through my head, with it is not rude emphasized. I smiled (with effort) and mentally re-entered the conversation.

Repeat the scenario about five times.

It’s hard to be loving and kind when you so desperately want to end a conversation that is clearly going nowhere!

When I came home, I had to mow. I haven’t mowed in two weeks. Today it was more like a hayfield out there, so I had a lot of quality time between mowing and raking. And the whole time I was out there, God stayed on me about being loving – and about not being rude. He reminded me that if I’m serious about this business of writing and working with people, I’m going to run into the exasperating type all the time –and my job is to be kind – and to not be rude.

He reminded me that at times, it’s not going to be convenient to sit and listen. At times, people are going to be annoying. At times, people are going to be wishy-washy in what they say. But still, I get to love them.

When Marie and I talked to this lady about divorce, she explained that a friend of hers had tried and tried – for over twenty years – to be the husband he should be. But his wife didn’t want to try. He was tired – and ready to give up. And she thought he should be allowed that much – as a reward for trying so hard for so long.

How thankful should we be, Marie pointed out, that God doesn’t operate that way with us? When we don’t give things full effort…when we don’t hold up our end of the bargain…God keeps right on being God. He doesn’t say, “Well, you’ve reached your limit. You’ve worn me out. It’s over. I quit.”

And as I raked, God reminded me that He hasn’t given up on me yet. That this project warms His heart – because it proves that I’m serious about learning – about improving. And I am so thankful that He has not given up on me. That He is willing to work with me day by day – to teach me.

Just last night, I gave my devotions the short end of my attention span because I was tired. And yet I was thankful that God made time in His schedule today to meet with me while I raked – it was rude of me to cut Him off last night – but He showed me today how love really works – by not paying me back as I deserved.

Pride vs. Pride - Day Twelve

And on the twelfth day of the Great Love Assignment, the good Lord taught me…that pride comes in various forms.

Yesterday, when I finished typing, I noticed that I said “I have a bit of smug pride that wells up…” and then I realized that today’s chunk of verse is about pride. Love is not proud.

It’s been a hard week to be proud – and in that way, my pride has taken a beating. The things I usually take pride in have fallen to the wayside, and because of that, my ego remains a bit bruised. Perhaps God had a hand in bringing those things to a halt – even if only temporarily – to get me to realize the problem that they are.

Take my yard for example. I live in a neighborhood where yard work does not top the lists of things to do for most of my neighbors. As a result, my yard is typically the shortest. I’m happiest when you can see the lines from the fresh mowing job. As soon as they begin to fade – it’s time to mow. Last week, it was so dry, the grass didn’t grow, so I didn’t mow. This week it hasn’t stopped raining, so I haven’t been able to mow. And my pride suffers a beating every time I pull up to the house and see the weeds sprouting next to the foundation and the blatant absence of mower lines. I want to post a note of apology for the condition of the yard. And it’s all just because my pride doesn’t like it.

But then that tells me that I am a little too smug about the looks of the grass. In truth, when I mow, I love to sit back and survey how much shorter my yard is than the neighbors’ – and I think, “Man, this looks good. Look at how hard I’ve worked – compared to these other people who don’t make the time." Bad Bekah.

And then there’s the inside of the house. I love for everything to be in its designated place. But a small bout of sickness and large bouts of work have brought my housecleaning to a screeching halt. I’m desperately hoping no one drops by, because I don’t want to have to explain the pile of papers on the end of the dining room table, or the string of lights still unattached to the ficus tree, or the refrigerator that needs not just a once-over, but a quadruple-over!

All of that – just because I’m too proud to admit that I’ve packed my schedule too full and I don’t have time to take care of the basics. Too proud to admit that I’m tired when I come home from work and sneak in a nap instead of doing housework.

What does any of this have to do with love?

Well, my brain is so jumbled right now from the day that all I can think of are examples about my house and yard, but I know that if I’m too proud about what I have and what I do – I start comparing myself to others – and that just drags them down in my mind. And how can I love them if I’m dragging them down? And if I let my pride over those things stand in my way, I’m going to be too stubborn to love – or to allow myself to be loved. And what good does that do?

So it’s the battle of the prides. Either one will keep me from loving to my fullest potential. And maybe that is why God has allowed this to be a rainy, busy, sickness filled week – because now I’m able to see where I need to work!

Friday Favorite #4

Tonight was grocery shopping night. I try to only go shopping for food once a month. For one thing, I don't have time to shop every week. For another, it's kind of an adventure to see how long I can make the whole "budgeting food" adventure last. :)

But one thing that I like to do every time I go shopping is to buy one little treat. I have (I've been told) a ridiculously low grocery budget, so there aren't many times when splurging is an option.

But tonight there were a couple of extra bucks left according to the calculator, so I got extra ice cream. A gallon of ice cream is required as a staple to get me through any given month. But tonight I got extra. A box of drumsticks. And don't you know - I had one the very minute the trunk was unloaded and the cold stuff was put away.

I'm not sure what my favorite part is - it's a toss up between the little core of caramel hidden in the middle and that big chunk of chcocolate that parks in the bottom of the cone to keep it from leaking. Oh man, that was a good drumstick. I think there are only five more. I'll have to try to pace myself in the days to come. But rest assured, they'll be gone before the next Friday favorite hits!!