Going to the dump...

Where I live, it's country.  Not 100 miles from anywhere country.  But country enough that the mail person uses their personal car for delivery.  And enough that I can either pay someone to come get my trash, or take it to the dump myself.

As we have a tight budget, pass the dump on the way to town, and only have a bag of garbage about once a week, we opt for doing it ourselves.

I have a little loop through our town I like to take.  Hit the library.  Hit the post office.  Hit the dump.  Go to the "city." So the other day the kids and I started off...library, check.  Post office, check.  City...check.  

Wait a minute...I forgot the dump.  When I parked at Costco, I remembered it.  My little thermometer in my car said 100 degrees.  

I think that was the fastest Costco trip I ever made.  And even so, did my car ever stink! 

Sin...it's like that.  You're doing what you should, but all the while you're toting around some nasty junk.  And it's either got to go, or it's going to ruin your life.

Jesus died to take it.  All you need to do is head on over to the cross, drop to your knees and ask Him.  

P.S.  I did eventually get that garbage to the dump.  And I think it took about a week for my car to totally air out!

Unleashed...for real

"Unleashed by Garo" is a little show I found on Hulu.  I'm sure it's on some network somewhere, but I'm don't really watch things when they come on...  Anyhow, Garo is going to unleash the "true person" through his couture design.  


I'm watching him talk to the woman in question; noting the fear and discouragement in her eyes.  I mean, I feel a bit fearful every time I walk past the makeup counters in the mall, hoping they won't notice that I forgot to mascara both eyes that day because one of the kids decided to color on the walls and I got distracted.  How much more intimidating must it be to meet with someone who designs high fashion clothing for models and celebrities   


Anyhow, he promises to unleash the true woman.  With some color changes, with a bit of corseting, with a trip to the hairdresser, makeup artist, nail salon and of course, the pièce de résistance, the new dress, her true self will be revealed.


But what happens after the big reveal?  Once the dress is carefully removed and placed in the closed, the corset is removed so the love handles can once again hang, the makeup and the rest are washed off in the shower?  Has she been lost?  Is she once again a being hidden in a brown sweater and jeans, unable to shine?


Lovely clothing does make us feel lovely and perhaps outgoing for a time.  And every time I've had a makeover, the folks doing it have been so loving and complimentary, that I felt beautiful and not self-conscious at all.  But none of that lasts. The clothing wears out.  The makeup washes off.  And there I am, back with me...again.


One thing revealed my true inner self.  One moment in my life changed me.  And it had nothing to do with how I looked...because that never changed.  That moment...it was when I realized who I was to God.  And I accepted that.  And I surrendered to Him.  And He filled me.  


My anger was erased by his love.  My shyness overwhelmed by His beauty.  My suicidal thoughts overcome by His healing grace and mercy.  I was a new creation, in one second.  


And that change is eternal.  

Of death, dying and funerals

I've been thinking a lot about death lately.  Recently my husband's aunt went into a hospice home.  Her heart is slowly stopping, and with that, everything else is breaking down.  My husband's dad died of the same thing almost 8 years ago.  


That happened near the 1-year anniversary of the death of our lovely neighbor Joanne.  She and her husband Larry lived next door to us, and were the first folks to welcome us to the neighborhood.  The kids loved the...ok, I'll be honest, they loved the snacks they always had for them and the building shows that were always on.  They got to sit on the Harleys in the garage and pretend to ride.  Joanne would snuggle with Sophie on a chair.  And she always made sure that they had fresh fruit, which was about the only safe thing to feed our little food allergic son.  In April of last year, they found cancer in her lung.  It turned out that it was actually cancer everywhere, and 10 weeks after her diagnosis, she died.


On the eve of that anniversary, I received a text from my husband that Chip Lusko was in the hospital because of a heart attack.  Chip has been a mentor and father-figure in my life for many years.  I was nanny to his 5 kids, and worked for him at a church in Albuquerque for years.  He is a force for God...behind the scenes, but making so much happen.  He challenged me, pushed me, and let me try things that were way over my head, and I was so thankful for the opportunities.  He also was one of the pastors who married my husband and I.  And now he was in the hospital.  


He is someone who lives wholeheartedly for God.  His entire trajectory is to serve Him.  He has no other purpose.  And he feels that no matter what you do, you should be enjoying it, or quit.  Or suck it up and learn to appreciate what you have.


A day after that news, I got a phone call.  A woman from a bible study I attend had mentioned that her husband was sick.  A week later, she said he had brain cancer.  Three weeks after that, he was dead.  


I went to the funeral of  her husband...a man whose name I didn't even know.  Just the last name.  Jamison.  And it turns out that he loved God too.  He impacted the world around him.  He was a business owner, and made sure his employees were taken care of.  He impacted people so much, that his auditor came to the funeral.  A drive of 8 hours from where he lived.  really?


What kind of life am I living.  What kind of impact am i making?  And what exactly will I think of it all after this body dies.  


All these things have made me think a lot more about death and eternity than I usually do.  


You see, I believe I have an immortal soul.  Sounds weird, but true.  The bible told me so.  And I've chosen to give my soul away.  It was paid for with a brutal death.  So, am I living up to it?

Shots...hurt.

I got a shot today.  A tetanus shot with some other stuff thrown in for good measure (Apparently those shots I got as a baby aren't as long lasting as originally thought.)


The last time I got a tetanus shot was 14 years ago.  I was getting ready for my very first missions trip.  Romania.  


I gave my life to God when I was 18.  Romania happened 3 years after that.  I didn't grow up in the kind of churches where everyone went on mission trips every summer, so I didn't know that missions could happen outside of a lifetime commitment to headhunters in New Guinea or orphans  in some third-world country.  


So, when the chance came up to go, minus the lifetime commitment, there I was.


Others.  That's what a bumper sticker on the back of my van says.  And that trip gave me what has been an unquenchable thirst to serve others.  Until then, it was all me.  


Mexico, Ghana, Panama, and Quebec.  That's where I've been since that first shot. 


Now I'm in South Carolina.  My husband grew up here, in the Piedmont (another name for foothills) of the Blue Ridge Mountains.  It isn't as romantic as my other travels.  Although it does have it's own brand of exotic...if you find bluegrass, sweet tea and lush glacial mountains of interest.  This is where I've landed for now.  And strangely, it's still all about missions...because people are still lost and hopeless and directionless.  Here, it's not about the gospel not being preached.  Here it's been preached so much that no one hears it anymore.  And that is a terrible tragedy.


Tetanus.  It's one shot that took me around the world...and back again.  Kind of.    

A Voice...

I'm watching the finale of The Voice.  And rolling through my head are all of the amazing musicians and singers I've known over time. (side note...NPH is in Smurfs?  ok...blogging while watching TV is a bad idea.  Mute. aaaah).  And I keep thinking, man, I wish this or that person could make it.  

When it comes down to it, I have a few children's book ideas that I wish could make it as well.  

Make it.  What is "it" exactly?

Fame? Fortune?  oh, and Fame?  

There's a common thread with all of the talented folks I'm thinking of.  They live for one cause.  To make Jesus famous.  

Every so often I see obituaries for people who were famous 20, 40 or more years ago.  And I don't know who they were.  I've never seen their movies.  I don't know what they look like.  They've lost "it", at least with me.  

The winner is announced.  The confetti falls.  And off they go to tour, record...whatever for however long they can keep at the top of the market.  

Talent.  Do I really want to make "it" for the next few years, or do I want to do one thing...make Jesus famous.  Because that is something that will last forever.  

Audiences of...one to none.

Today started out a little differently than usually. First of all we had to be to church earlier than usual to open up for a guest musician, Marvin Mumford and his 11 yr. old son who rocks on the drums (btw, his worship is a completely different style from the music on his website, marvinmumford.com). After church we walked across the street to the conveniently placed Wendy's across the street (the walk makes up for the calories, right?)

It was awesome to hang out and be exhorted by a guy who use to co-lead worship for what could be called a mega-church; a guy who now ministers mainly to small, little churches like us. What happened? Well, the Lord challenged him through a friend..."so, if someone invited you to a home bible study to play, would you do it?" Hmmmm.... And with the Yes, a new career launched. The mega-church lost a worship leader, but the little guys who can't afford people who need stages and have riders gained big-time.

"It's just like wives are exhorted to love their husbands as unto the Lord," he told us over cheesburgers. "I need to worship as unto the Lord and not worry about numbers."

Our little church has only been around a year-and-a-half. And starting a church can be awkward. You invite people, and they come to visit, just to be the only person there that day. "Ooooh...how could they ever come back?" you wonder. Or no one new comes for several weeks in a row. Or some of the regulars just disappear. Poof. Gone.

Church planters have a lot of room for pride. Because it's all about you...right? How friendly you are... How well you dress.... How...fill in the blank... But here's the deal, that's pride...because those issues make it all about you, and not that audience of one.

As Marvin exhorted us, As unto the Lord. There's the balance. We need to do our preparation with excellence, whether creating a great room for worship each week, having worship ready, kids ministry ready, etc. All of it, unto the Lord. Period.

I so needed that refreshing reminder today. And every day.

From fullness of dirt to joy

In the presence of God, there is fullness of joy. That is what David wrote in Psalm 16:11. To be perfectly honest, joy has not been part of my life for a long time. I feel overwhelmed by the very things that are given as blessings. The children who are my constant companions with constant needs. The beautiful home that is covered by the end of each day with a mixture of toys, shoes, dust, dirt and footprints. The clothing piled up and needing attention. The dog I should be walking. The yard I should be weeding. The car that needs fresh oil and rotated tires.

I think that in my presence there is fullness of dirt. and decay. and even despair. But Joy...where is it? In the presence of God.

My husband just kicked off a little project called 100 Days of Summer with our church body. Basically we all get to read our way through 100 essential portions of the bible, skipping things like genealogies, in 100 days. We're doing it together, and more importantly we're doing it daily. As the pastor's wife, I not only get to join in, I really have to. And I'm glad to. I have quiet time...sometimes. But this...this is daily. And intentional.

A few years ago, I read a lovely bio on Ruth Graham (Ruth: A Portrait by Patricia Cornwell). The one thing that I remember is that this busy mom of many had very little time for quiet time. So she left bibles open throughout her house. If she was passing by and had a moment, she would read. And go on refreshed.

In the presence of God is fullness of joy. But getting there, to the presence of God, that's the hard part. I'm putting in my 100 days. And I'm leaving open bibles and devotional books around the house. May He who is not silent, speak. May His presence fill this place. And may joy return.

A visit

Last post in 2009...Ok, so I'm not the most intrepid blogger. Here goes another try at it.

This evening we took the kids to a local Hospice House to visit my husband's aunt Lois. She's been ill for a while, and we thought she would pass away a few weeks ago. She's responded to treatment, so we are blessed to have a little more time with her.

I was back home, hanging out in the internet world a bit, when I realized how far removed my life feels from hers. She doesn't have internet. She doesn't have a computer. She still has a phone with a cord, and an answering machine.

And yet her life is connected. She's connected with people rather than artificial faces and designs that create so much of my world. She has at least 5 or more visitors a day. If I was in the hospital, I don't know if I'd have more than 2 or 3 (my husband and kids!).

She lives in a house in the country that she has lived in since she was a teenager. Some of the furniture has changed; much of it has not. I'm in my sixth home in 8 years of marriage. And I'm still in the phase of gathering furniture and such.

There's more I could say, but I guess what I notice the most is her ability to be connected with her community of neighbors and family, and her contentment in the place she has lived for so long.

I hope I can learn to do the same.