Refreshing Hearts One Sentence At A Time
I like watching “One Tree Hill.” I admit, the writing inspires me:
“You gotta open up your heart to somebody,” Keith says to his love, Karen. “You gotta let someone discover how staggering you are.” We mommas all deserve this reminder. We spend so much time trying to improve upon the current state that we don’t see how fabulous we are. While often harried, hurried, clumsy, and forgetful, we are, indeed, fashioned by flawless hands. We were created in the depths of perfection, in the shadow of unspoiled eyes. You are staggering. Name your faults or claim your failures: they are beside the point. David was a kid going up against a nine foot-tall sack of muscle and hair. Look what he did. He owned his place with his Creator, saying, “Then all the world will know that Israel has a God, and this whole assembly will know that it is not by sword or by spear that the Lord saves, for the battle is the Lord’s” (1 Samuel 17:46b-47). I’m guessing he said it rather loudly. I would. The battle is the Lord’s. The insurmountable guilt, melancholy, potty training, and dusty floorboards; eh, those are just a little housework to the One who made it all. As we continue to wipe shelves and highchair legs, so the Father wipes away tears. He mops up our scandals; melts away fears. This journey is not about our abilities. We can’t earn the privilege of being staggering. Jaw-dropping. Compelling. We are God’s workmanship, created to do the good works he prepared for us to do (Ephesians 2:10). The good works may not always feel like fun works or easy works, and they may not be in the place you want the work to be, but they are prepared specifically for you. Remember that this world isn’t the last word. Pick up a rock and throw it. God will aim and finish the task. Sometimes those imaginary monsters like The Laundry Pile or Asking For Forgiveness or Getting Out Of Bed need to be told who’s boss. Regardless of the adversary, they wilt in the gaze of the Lord of Hosts. David also said, “You come against me with a dagger, spear, and sword, but I come against you in the name of Yahweh of Hosts …The Lord will hand you over to me” (1 Samuel 17:45-46). Take that, Toilet Grime. Take and eat it, Clumsiness, Ache, Loneliness, and Loss. Remember this proclamation, tuck it inside your heart, and do not lose grip on the most powerful weapon we have to face the day. The Creator, the Great Love, is staggering. And he designed you. Whether caught between a grassy field and a desert, drowning under the waves, or wedged into a dark hole, look up. Take the hand of the One who made you and walk in his steady stride, until the giants fall away.
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The tickets were purchased, the map was defined, supplies packed and ready, clouds parting in the sky to reveal a cosmos so blue and sunny that tropical islands yawned in jealous torment; the adventure was set to begin in three, two -- and wait. Hold on.
Pause for a moment. The phone is ringing. It's the realtor, and we have a closing date! It is.... tomorrow! Tomorrow? Tomorrow!? That means I need to call -- I need to pack -- I need to unpack -- I need to text Mom -- I need to go to the -- And a new adventure began instead. "Humble yourselves therefore, under the mighty hand of God, so that he may exalt you at the proper time, casting all your care on him, because he cares about you." 1 Peter 5:6 Let's get a few words out of the way before we go any further. The word, "exalt," means 1)honor, 2)fill with sublime emotion, 3)heighten or intensify, 4)raise in rank, character, or status. Humble is both an adjective and verb, meaning 1)inferior in station, 2)marked by modesty, 3)of low station, 4)cause to be unpretentious, 5)cause to feel shame or hurt the pride. I like to make plans. I like to make lists. I like to make plans that incorporate my lists, and then check off the boxes in order. And yes, my clothes closet is ordered by the colors of the rainbow. Sometimes I make plans for my life. Sometimes I say, “I will go to the park tomorrow,” or “I will get groceries tomorrow,” or “I will watch Bones today.” I am learning that the long-term plans are the ones that seem to fall through. I am learning that not all of the boxes get checked off in order. I am learning that I don’t like it when my boxes are not checked off in order. Where is the excitement in last minute changes, and where is the thrill in flakiness? Um, I’m really not as stuffy as that last sentence makes me sound. I just like an order to the chaos. An order which I create. But do I look for the adventure? What if there is an order in the chaos, and I’m simply unaware of it? I don’t think people plan for loss, broken water heaters, floods, earthquakes, bug bites, and job changes. I don’t want to speculate that most people plan their own worst-case scenario. Do you plan your own worst life? Do you look for ways to hurt others or yourself? I don’t, so I’m going off of my own ideal world. Mine is one similar to that of Neverland or Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, where there are lush, green, open fields rolling in the distance, and parks with flowers, and laughing friends nearby, ready to do something fun. So there’s a gap between the real world and what-could-be. Because in this real world, the adventure has been filled with rain clouds, plane rides, tears, shiny skyscrapers, hugs with my daughter, bitten nails, crashed computers, divine lunches, and inconsolable loss. The adventure included boat rides, beaches, bridges, boxes, and paradise. The darkness crept nearby, watching with dollar signs in its eyes. He imagined destruction and whispered threats of loneliness. The new adventure was unlike anything I had imagined. But I did get to ride a camel in the sand. He moaned at me, arching his long, tan, furry neck toward me, groaning and baring his crooked, yellow teeth. His trainer smacked him smartly on the neck with a small brown stick, demanding some unknown command in Arabic. After a few more moments of groaning, lips quivering and teeth snarling, he began arching his back legs to a standing position. I gripped the saddle horn as the back-end rose higher, and his front knees eventually began to quake and burst with movement upward. Then he was walking, one slow step after another, moaning further, shaking his head in disagreement, as if he was done with the pony ride. I sat far on his back, gripping the old leather, ten feet in the air, on this beast towering above the tourists below. He roamed in a slow circle around the hot, sandy area, guided by the man in the khaki tunic. The camel settled in his spot, front side first, bowing into the sand, folding his legs under his thick, hairy torso. Rocking and quaking, I settled back on the ground and climbed off his back. And all too soon, I had to fly away from those shiny buildings, sand dunes, and my sister’s warm hugs. What can I say about riding a camel? Hold on tight, especially when starting out and ending, because the fall forward could be a hilarious sight to see, though painful for the fall-er. What can I say about the new adventure? Hold on tight and a grab a ginger pill, because there’s turbulence up ahead. Another part of the new adventure was moving to our first house, then turning around and helping my parents leave their house – my “home” – of 25 years. So in between the boxes, airplane rides, boxes, broken computers, leaky house fragments, boxes, shimmering anniversaries, and golden hotel rooms, the year 2013 has been --- an adventure. It’s a tale of remorse, angst, distilled silence, and fresh morning sunshine streaming in through the window. It has been salted and spiced with hummus, take-out, large bills, extraordinary views, pecans, boxes, emptiness, and tears. In the preparation of moving, unpacking, moving, packing, and readying for flying, there was teaching classes, coordinating ministry events, and home-making. And since the first leg of the adventure, the shiny drama has dissipated into unmotivated laziness. I partially think I’ve earned it. The Big Year is not even halfway over, but all the oil is used up. The Tandoori powder is prepped but the chicken is already eaten. My husband – my sane half – says this unmotivated feeling is just a let-down after vacation. He says that it is post-year’s-worth-of-suspense-leading-up-to-an-adventure. Now that we bought the cow...we have to care for it. Now that we’ve been to paradise…we have to live with central Texas in a drought. Not that I’m complaining, really. I’m very grateful to have seen what I’ve seen, to be able to hear the sounds of foreign instruments, to have tasted authentic food, to have stayed up way too late talking with my family, to have stood on the tallest floor on the planet. And I’m grateful for the home I get to come back to, for the soft carpet underfoot, the warm sunshine and cooing doves out the back window. I’m just trying to figure out the emotions that roll along in this tidal wave. What do you say when the grey seems dimmer and the silence seems louder? My heart has been heavy, my arms weak, and my legs sore. And not just from working out. Although that is a factor. The clock has been winning recently, ticking along merrily, leaving me behind. The adventure continues into chapter three, and I’m still trying to figure out what happened in chapter two. Each page-turn I fall a little farther behind, and lack the motivation to read along. So I watch tv. Because it is happy. Because it is easier. Because it is observing, rather than having to react myself. I’m riddled with fear, with this deep sadness, sometimes, when I think about how this adventure continues on, and I’m not ready for it to do so. I’m content with the springtime, and yet the wind continues to steadily blow across the field. Who am I in the midst of this changing planet, this controlling government, this judgemental society? Who am I, that one little session of dusting or creating a website will add to an eternity of importance? What are my words that my viewpoint will help others carry on? I’ve avoided writing lately. It’s the motivational thing, but also some other feelings of inadequacy that have been whispered into my ear as of late. I was wiping up the mud on my kitchen floor today, the mud my daughter tracked in after playing in the muddy backyard, after the plumbing guys had left the hose in the open back door, after which they had told me we would need a new hot water heater, after which we had found water seeping up in our bathroom. I was wiping up the mud by hand because the Swiffer vacuum is broken, and have been waiting for the next payday to get a new one because I didn’t see room in the budget to get one. It’s a good thing we didn’t have room for a $40 gadget. I’d sure hate to have to buy a new water heater or something. And I thought, you know, I really want to be dramatic about this. I want to be depressed at how we have had to pay for a rushed passport, and a computer that the cable company broke and refuses to pay for; I want to be depressed that we will not get back the deposit from our apartment because of some silly miscommunications; I want to be depressed and dramatic because this whole new home-owner experience has been just as expensive as I expected. But there’s a measure of sanity in the back of my mind that speaks the truth of, “God will provide.” Cast all your care on Him, because he cares about you. He doesn’t just care for me and my silly and expensive broken water heater, he cares about you and your dust bunnies, your sunny day, your bad choices, your sore back, your justified goals, your fears. He cares, and he has a plan. I want to be dramatic about the many ups and downs on this rollercoaster ride. I want to sit back in silence and let the game play itself out. I want to have more money in the bank. However, this adventure is more than dollars and cents. This adventure is a cliff-hanger, where the reader isn’t sure if the traveller will be required to dive into the deepest, darkest, underwater caves, or if this is the chapter of flashbacks to the good ol’ days. Is this the chapter where the audience gets a little insight into the protagonist, or is this the chapter where the protagonist gets thrown into the tar pit and has to fight off the monster alligator-dog? Regardless, the protagonist has to endure it. Why? Otherwise, it wouldn’t be a very good adventure story. "Humble yourselves therefore, under the mighty hand of God, so that he may exalt you at the proper time, casting all your care on him, because he cares about you." 1 Peter 5:6 I hear a lot about having humility. I think it’s a good practice. But I think there’s a fine line between having just enough, too little, or too much humility. Because I know God has a better plan than I can ever make, but he gave me this adventure so I can become a better version of myself. I can’t be timid, shy, or a quivering sack of dirt. I have to have grit, heart, and spunk. There has to be determination, tenacity, and guts. Who really wants the alligator-dog to win? I think the audience would rather see the under-dog win. Therefore I will remember that I am a character in the story, but one written into the story with purpose and creativity. Because He cares about me. And remember, he cares about you, too. He has a mighty hand, a mighty plan. So if you have to scrape the dirt from your floor, on your hands and knees, wondering what kind of cents all of this makes, notice that you aren’t alone. And maybe the wind will whisper the promises of a steadfast Creator as you wipe. Use the grit and be refined as a more steadfast being. The chapter continues to play out, and sometimes the reader’s speed is breath-taking. But the Author controls the storyline. He will honor you; he will lift you out of the pit; he will fill you with peace; he will strengthen your character. Use this crazy adventure to become more like your Author. Maybe one day soon he will allow you to see more of his storyboard. ![]() Thank you to everyone who came out to the Book Launch party! What a great time for me, and I hope you enjoyed your lemonade, the readings, and your new book! This year brings a lot of paperwork, typing, phone calls, and printed postage labels. I hope you will join me in this continuing journey and see what is in store! If you like the blogs I post on here, if you enjoy and are encouraged by Sara's Lemonade Stand, please feel free to leave a review on Amazon or as a comment on a blog. Share this site or the book with friends and family, and as always, I have several books on hand to purchase! All books bought directly from me will be signed copies. ![]() Thank you to everyone for your support, encouragement, laughs, likes, follows, and shares! Who knew that terminology would make sense in a sentence?! ![]() I would love to continue sharing the hope and joy of a life looking for God's handiwork. If you have a group who might like to hear the message, I would love to speak with you about sharing some sections of the book or even writing and sharing thoughts on a topic and seeing how God can fill each moment of our lives! Keep an eye out for upcoming events or blogs. Save the date for Saturday, January 26th, 2013. There will be a book signing at Hastings in Brownwood, Texas. I hope to see you there! |
Inspiration
But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. (1 Corinthians 1:9) Sara's Lemonade Stand
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