Joy in the Mist

 

The marine layer limited the morning sunshine to a dim, indistinct glow as we began the climb. The location we met to walk the previous weeks looked so different. Since mid-February my friend Doreen and I walked this trail increasing our strength and duration until we could reach the goal she set for her 60^th birthday. But the day of her birthday hike it looked as if we were somewhere entirely different. We could see the trail in front of us and the plants along the trail; we couldn’t see our goal. The plants looked softer in the misty gray.

It was if no one existed except the hikers around us and the trail before us. Those coming down generously assured us sunshine was at the top to greet us. I enjoyed being cocooned in a visually smaller world. It was calming and less stimulating. Gradually there was a sense of light filtering through. All the time ascending, some looked for the sun while others enjoyed the misty view, but all had a common goal – to reach the top. When we emerged into the bright sunlight, below lay a thick, gray marine layer over the city like a down comforter.

We pressed on until we reached our destination. Weary worn we rested. We celebrated. We took photos. Soon the marine layer thinned and we saw a filtered view of the world below, as if looking through a veil. Oh, but Doreen wanted everyone to have a clear view – the view she delighted in just two weeks before when she and I first reached the top. I found a different kind of beauty looking through the veil.

As we descended, the heat of the sun pushed the marine layer back toward the ocean. The view opened up before us and all took joy in seeing everything below as clearly as we could from far above. We looked forward to the end; it would be a celebrated moment of accomplishment and an opportunity to eat a big breakfast.

The hard seasons of life – ones we know are temporary but with an unknown expiration date – often feel like days of preparing and making the final ascent of a celebrated climb on a gray covered day; for awhile it seems endless. These times lack the hushed quiet of a gray morning but are like the sun beating down on me. I gravitate toward a minimally stimulating schedule/life. I prefer being cocooned in a quiet, calm rhythm with the outside world softened behind a veil. When the gray comes in the form of hardship and blocks the view of my desired destination, now that’s a different story. Then I desperately want to be above it in the sunlight. But this is not the life Jesus called me to, a life where I design my days of joy. I need to live a life of joy both in gloom and in light. He tells us in His Word that the darkness doesn’t overcome the light. This is hope. His light always penetrates and overcomes the darkness.

It is interesting and so like our Lord to invite me into joy the year of 2021. There are days when it has been a steep ascent to encounter joy and on other days it can be a gentle walk. Though the last three years have been challenging for our household, this year seems the most challenging for me to experience joy in the midst of it all. I understand why joy is the invitation; I must not lose joy no matter what. The verse my heart is set to navigate the year 2021 is Romans 12:12.

“Be joyful in hope,

patient in affliction,

faithful in prayer.”

And then the Spirit added a P. S. from James 1:2.

“Count it all joy . . .”

The truth of His Word challenges me to believe the joy I experienced in the midst of a marine layer on that hike can be found in the gray days of living love in the hard places. The long view can’t be seen; it’s as if the trail disappears in the gloom and the end is uncertain. I love the phrase: “Be joyful in hope . . .” What we hope for is unseen, but oh so certain.

Jerry Bridges writes these truths about joy in The Fruitful Life; I am convicted and inspired. “The fact is, only Christians have a reason to be joyful, but it is also a fact that every Christian should be joyful. True Christian joy is both a privilege and a duty. . . . we are not to sit around waiting for our circumstances to make us joyful; but we are commanded to be joyful always (1 Thessalonians 5:16). . . . joy is not an option available to those whose temperament is conducive to it. God intends that every one of His children exhibit the fruit of joy. Just being joyful is not enough, however; we should be continually growing in joy.” Joy, a distinctive quality of being a disciple of Jesus, is expected of me.

 

It is by the power of the Holy Spirit I grow in joy regardless of circumstances; it is not something I can talk myself into. Joy comes from a place of surrender and trust. Though we could not see the flag that marked our goal at the beginning of the upward hike, we knew it was there; we had been there before. The climb may be difficult and the view closed off in gray, we can, and did, take joy in the journey. I desire to look at my current life through joy in the same way I delighted in the soft, limited view of the first half of my friend’s birthday hike.

How are you experiencing joy in your ordinary life? How are you finding joy in hardship? How are you experiencing God these days, whether in or out of hardship? What is God’s invitation to you in 2021 for spiritual growth?

Shifting From Purpose Driven to Purpose Living

 

Sometimes I forget my purpose and am tied up in knots to rediscover it. Those are times I get sidetracked by a search for significance. My purpose isn’t that complicated to find. And my significance comes completely from the One to whom I belong. My significance comes from being in relationship with Jesus – spending time with Him. When I return to this one important, rock solid truth, the passion He placed within comes to the surface. This passion drives my purpose. I am passionate to help others fall in love with Jesus, to know Him more fully and learn what it means to walk with Him. I don’t have this perfectly figured out but as I follow Christ, I want to bring others along.

It makes me think of the phrase said by Erin Napier at the opening of the show Home Town, “You don’t have to be an expert to save your town, you’ve just got to care enough to get up and do it.” My purpose as a follower of Christ is to care enough to get up and follow where He leads – to do the things He puts in front of me. I have to care enough to get up and do the work of His kingdom so others may know Him. And it really looks quite ordinary much of the time.

But there are days when I might not look like I care enough to get up and serve however and wherever He invites me to serve. And if I am honest with myself, I sometimes don’t care or I would be living in love toward Jesus and others and not fixated on myself. Sometimes I am afraid to move forward for fear that no one would respond. Here again, I have returned to a place of self-importance and a need for validation, not service.

I am being vulnerable. Are any of you with me? Do you ever find yourself looking for a position of importance or the having the illusion of being valuable because of your busyness? I am learning to do what I can where I am at the moment with what has been given me. I do look for ways to use the gifts He has given but I must seek the Savior first and follow His leading, surrendering the temptation to live in self-importance and learning to be “like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose” (Philippians 2 NIV). I am to have the same attitude as Christ – not grasping for position but becoming a servant. I am not always comfortable with this. You?

Emily P. Freeman spoke with Christian comedian Michael Jr on the The Next Right Thing Podcast. I highly recommend listening to it.

 https://emilypfreeman.com/podcast/the-next-right-thing/164/

Emily and Michael Jr talked about how complicated we make finding our purpose. Michael Jr says it well using the language of his occupation: we have a set up – our story, our training, our living situation, our relationships, our woundedness, it’s all fodder for the punchline – the act of service – what we can deliver. In Michael Jr’s words, “But people don’t always understand what their line is and they’ll feel there is a void. Like there is something missing. And what people do more times than not to fill that void, they think that what they need is more set up. (ex. Better training, a new car, cool clothes, etc.) . . . What you really need to know is what is truly your punchline . . . even your setbacks in life are part of your set up so you can deliver the punchline you are called to deliver.”

Dallas Willard writes in The Divine Conspiracy quite succinctly, “The kingdom disciple teaches from his or her storehouse of personal experiences of God’s rule in the commonplace events of real life.”

This brings to mind the words of poet Enuma Okoro (Passing Ordinary Time):

“This ordinary time is

gifted in its quiet, marked passing

Christ slips about

calling and baptizing,

sending and affirming,

pouring his Spirit like water

into broken cisterns,

sealing cracks and filtering our senses,

that we may savor the foolish

simplicity of his grace.”

He goes about doing kingdom work in quiet, uncomplicated ways. I long to follow in His footsteps. So much of kingdom work is a response to what we see, to what is pressed upon our hearts. How can I move about in this rhythm of purpose without making it such a big deal? It requires abiding in His presence, being sifted by the Spirit, confession, humility, and doing life in relationship to Jesus. This is a relationship and all my doing is better when motivated by walking with Him day in and day out. Abiding in His presence and listening helps me grow in awareness to His Spirit’s leading throughout my day.

Christianity and being a disciple of Christ isn’t designed for my significance, that thing I look for when I am fixated on my purpose. This is a life of sensitivity to what the Spirit places before me. And sometimes that might mean serving my husband while he carries a heavy burden in the midst of side effects as a result of cancer treatments. It might be a meal for someone, letting someone go ahead in a line, or posting a blog no matter how many people read or don’t read it. My purpose is to glorify God in whatever I set my hands to this day and that means my eyes must be fixed on Him. The following interview on Fully Expressed by John Dembeck of my husband, Jim Joiner, challenged me anew to live a life of faithfulness to God in the present moment. I hope you will take time to listen to it.

 Fully Expressed episode 23

Erin Napier is passionate about saving her town by restoring neglected houses and giving others a welcoming home. What is my passion? How has it fueled my living the life of a disciple in the kingdom of God? Am I motivated to get up and do, in love, whatever brings others to the kingdom of God, to shine the light in my community? I desire to shift from searching for a purpose to living purposely.

None of us does this life of purpose alone. We have Jesus and we have each other. Where are you today on your journey of living purposefully?

Accepting An Undesirable Invitation

 

“Even if what you are doing today isn’t visible, it’s still valuable.”

Holly Gerth

From my writing desk in our little guest room I look out the window to the tangerine tree. We are blessed to have beautiful, ripening tangerines grow in our yard. There aren’t too many this year but it’s always a sweet treat. The day is gray and chilly and I am struggling not to be distracted by frustration about something that seems unfair. If I look at the big picture – God’s eternal plan – then the energy put into fuming over the interruption is not worth a second of my time. Yet here I sit, scrunched brows, fighting to let it go.

This requires facing the elements. I head outside for a walk in the blustery weather. I need to release the tightness in my body and talk to Jesus. As I pour out my frustrations and ask Him to help me to see the situation in a better light I am reminded of foot washing. Yep, cleaning stinky feet. The task that felt unfairly placed on me is an opportunity for “washing feet”. These undesirable invitations for serving aren’t always delightful nor do they always come at an ideal time but the job needs done.

Timothy Keller preached these words, “Washing feet has to do with showing a concern for peoples’ comforts and concern for peoples’ needs.” This past year I have prayed for God to help me consent to whatever He brings, not just resign myself but actually trust Him with what is best and take it on willingly. In this situation it means I have to let the one other person who could have done this off the hook with a big dollop of grace.

The kinds of tasks equal to washing feet aren’t hard. They are usually easy and ordinary. It’s just that sometimes, or maybe often, I don’t like to be inconvenienced. I don’t want to give up doing what I want, to do what God invites me to do. But it’s an invitation. Invitations are usually a sign that something purposeful and meaningful will happen. I may not see fireworks or make a toast in acceptance of this invitation but it’s a blessing to serve. It is an opportunity to glorify God because these are simple acts that reflect Christ in us.

Ordinary (adj) lacking special distinction, rank, or status: commonly encountered

One day last week I was meditating on Jesus. Pictures floated through my mind as I thought of various stories of Jesus’s ministry. Later I wrote about what I recognized; Jesus did lots of ordinary tasks during these years. He cooked, He made arrangements, He fed people, He washed feet, and He held children in His arms and blessed them. As He moved from town to town sharing the kingdom of God He was stopped numerous times by someone calling out to Him, touching His robe, dropping in front of Him to pour out a need, and He was intercepted by a funeral. All these “interruptions” mattered to Him. This is Kingdom work.

Jesus notices. He sees. He stops for conversation. He looks directly into eyes. He touches. He eats and tells stories around the table. Why are these simple, loving acts so hard for us to consider worth our time? So often acts of service go unnoticed. I don’t know about you but I enjoy being appreciated for what I do. The desire howls within me insisting I take the most important job. Over time I have discovered when I do the necessary ordinary not only do I bless someone but I am transformed in the process; my love for others grows and life becomes more meaningful. It’s within these tender acts connection is formed.

In recognizing I was invited to “wash feet” it occurred to me the many ways Jesus provided a “foot washing” for me. I remember Jesus washing the disciples feet, a necessary tasks no one else was willing to do. Jesus even washed the feet of one who betrayed Him. I am not above “foot washing” tasks. I am not too good for them. More and more I want to embrace these interruptions as meaningful acts of service. I am undone when I picture Jesus kneeling before His disciples’ dirty feet, before my dirty feet, and lovingly washing them. How can I do less?

I have been in and out since beginning this post and what came of the walk that blustery day was a willingness to serve a need that first felt like an interruption. The experience left stretch marks as my attitude, with the Spirit’s help, was transformed. Not only did I consent but my awareness of the Spirit’s prompting was sharpened. It isn’t my doing. Yet the daily discipline of being with Jesus, reading the Word and prayer are the disciplines opening me to His work. Without these I would quickly become dull and numb to all around me. He has invited me to pay attention and spiritual disciplines tune my heart to His so I am moved to joyfully receive those invitations.

Some may ask, “How do you know when the invitation is from God?” I seek the wisdom of the Holy Spirit to know if it is God’s invitation and not someone else playing god in my life. If someone is putting pressure on me and manipulating me it is not from God. God does not guilt us into serving; He invites. There are opportunities that arise which are genuine needs in someone’s life and I am the only one aware and available to help. I know these are of God.

What interruptions have become invitations for “washing feet”, opportunities to tend to the needs of those around you? I would love to hear how God is shifting your thoughts on the value of ordinary tasks. Every invitation accepted to serve willingly glorifies God and draws others into His eternal kingdom. Oh how I long to be more willing.

 

It has been awhile since I posted. With all the challenges of the pandemic, the horrendous political climate, and deep sorrow stirred in 2020, so much of the time I found it difficult to write something coherent to completion. Which is sad; I love writing, especially writing to you. I appreciate all of you who read this blog. Thanks for being here. I thought I would get this out before the end of the year but as you can see I did not. So as we slip into 2021 hoping for life to get back to normal, whatever that may be, I want to share some gentle thoughts with you.

 

This post is inspired by The Mending Life: A Handbook for Repairing Clothes and Hearts by sisters Nina and Sonya Montenegro. The book opens with these words:

We all wear clothes.

These clothes

tatter,

tear,

split,

run,

rip,

unravel,

spring holes.

Things fall apart.

But we are gifted with hands that

sew,

mend,

fasten,

pin,

glue,

weave,

darn.

Things come back together.

Wounds heal.

Hearts forgive and deepen with compassion.

Mending is a part of life.

Right away I was moved by their expansive view of mending. Does anyone else tear up thinking about 2020 and all the pain that exposed old wounds as well as inflict new ones? So many turned away from one another ripping big holes in hearts and relationships and in our nation. This is not about government; it is too personal. It’s about how we want change but often are not willing to sit down and mend torn places.

The Montenegro sisters say it so well. “At first glance, mending may seem inconsequential, but not only does it mean buying fewer clothes (thus slowing down the fast fashion cycle), it also invites us into a new way of being. Mending is a powerful act of restoration, both for our clothes and for our relationship to the world. . . . Making something whole again is also a form of healing, and we have a deep desire to heal what is broken. . . . We may even begin to see opportunities for healing: we can make amends with someone we’re at odds with, we can restore fertility to degraded soil, we can create a thriving urban oasis for pollinators, and with each small act, our broken hearts begin to heal in turn. . . . We need more fix-it shops! Owned by moms & pops. Places of resurrection, second lives, second chances, thirds, fourths, fifths . . .”

The Bible has a few things to say about mending. In Colossians 1:19-20 Paul writes, “For God was pleased to have all His fullness dwell in Him, and through Him to reconcile to Himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through His blood, shed on the cross.” Christ’s tattered skin pressed up against the splintered wood of the Cross restored our broken relationship with God. Restore means “to repair, rebuild, renew. To restore is to return something to it’s original or usable and functioning condition. Restore can mean to return to life; get or give new life.” Believing Jesus to be God’s Son and following Him gives us new life. Through Christ we are restored to our original condition – in relationship with God.

The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 5:18, those of us who have been reconciled in Christ are given the ministry of reconciliation. Reconcile means to restore and restore means: “to restore by replacing a part or putting together what is torn or broken (Synonyms: repair/mend).” Mending is a part of life.

 

Mending cannot restore to the original condition but it does restore to a usable and functioning condition. This personal act can only be done one to another. Though scars may remain from a mended tear, mending can restore a relationship – making it stronger. This plays out in our torn and tattered culture. How can we begin to make steps towards mending? What can each of us do to make amends in the communities in which we are planted? What a difference it would make if we all recognized that mending is part of life and each has a part to play restoring relationship with God, with one another, and with the natural world.

Colossians 1:20 (The Message)

“. . . but all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe – people and things, animals and atoms – get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood poured down from the cross.”

Believers aren’t better but we are given the responsibility of leading in the ministry of mending. I am praying about how I can be one who mends in 2021 and taking the next step. Want to join me? Let’s put a new face on 2021 and invest in healing, reconciliation, and repairs. What will this look like for you? What are some things or relationships you mended in 2020?

Beauty From A Different Angle

 

Isaiah 61:1-3 – “The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.”

Before Etty Hillesum was deported from the Netherlands to Auschwitz, where her life ended, she wrote these words: “Sun on the balcony and a light breeze through the jasmine . . . I can’t take in how beautiful the jasmine is. But there is no need to. It is enough to simply believe in miracles in the twentieth century. And I do, even though the lice will be eating me up in Poland before long. It is possible to suffer with dignity and without . . . I am in Poland every day, on the battlefields, if that’s what one can call them. I often see visions of poisonous green smoke; I am with the hungry, with the ill-treated and the dying, every day, but I am also with the jasmine and that bit of sky beyond my window; there is room for everything in a single life. For belief in God and for a miserable end.”

I am moved to tears as I think about Etty surrounded by fear, hatred, dehumanization and helplessness declaring that a life can hold both suffering and beauty at once. Etty Hillesum was able to hold onto her belief in God and delight in the jasmine all while serving the suffering. Underneath it all she accepted the reality of her own death at the hands of the communists for her services.

“That anyone at all in the world would set their sad heart and tired hands to working beauty out of chaos is a monument to Grace. It reminds us of light and high beauty, and it laments the world’s great sorrow. It gives the heart language to rejoice and language to mourn.” – Andrew Peterson

Hope is infused throughout Isaiah 61, the prophesy of the coming Christ. It’s the year of the Lord’s favor. Twenty-twenty hasn’t looked or felt much like a year of favor. The world around seems to be turning inside out and we have scrambled to reinvent how we gather and celebrate. We also had to learn to grieve division and hate. Many of you have posted, with gratitude, the good discovered within the difficulties of 2020. God doesn’t promise static lives of ease, does He? But He gives us the hope of beauty from ashes. He [God] “causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose” (NASB2020).

I love the clarity of this passage. God causes all things: loss of safety, hurtful words spoken in disagreement, uncertainty, unfairness, injustice, kind acts, provision for medical care, healing; all these things He works together for good. How? I don’t know; He is God and the powerful mystery of Him is far greater than I can begin to understand. He is able to work all for the good when our lives are sunk deep in His love. He doesn’t just take the good bits of life and make something of it; He uses everything within a life, kneads it together, and raises up good for those committed to Him. And He causes all things in the greater world to work together for the good of His people and His eternal plans. Nothing happening in this universe thwarts God’s plans. Nothing!

Have you longed to be stoked by the fire of joy only to find yourself left without a spark and lulling about in ashes? Is it hard to imagine any beauty coming out of gray, lifeless ashes – scorched dreams and ideals. There are days it seems all beauty has been puffed away by the breath of bad news bearers. Then again, maybe you are like me and lose beauty in your idealism. There are times when just an inkling of restlessness and disappointment whisper into my ear and I steep myself in some idealized life; I fight against the yoke of reality believing I can choose to create a life of beauty. In doing so I lose track of the beauty in my current life. Idealism isn’t based on reality. I will not find my need for beauty out there; I only find it in the present moment. And I must be intentional about embracing and holding hopeful expectation that the Creator is knitting all of life into something for the greater good. That’s hard to take in because we often think about our own good.

My friend Terri and I spend 2-3 hours a month in conversation on Zoom sharing how God is working in our lives and offering one another nudges toward growth. I recently shared with her how I crave beauty. I sometimes wonder, when does beauty become an idol or a source of discontent? Obviously I’ve had some issues with this. Terri challenged me to reframe my meaning of beauty. She said, “Sometimes I think we should have beauty journals, like gratitude journals.” She suggested I expand my idea of beauty and think about each day as a treasure hunt – an invitation to pay attention. This idea really appeals to me. Here are a few small adjustments to my idea of beauty. I have a lot to learn about expanding my idea of beauty.

• The neighbors across the street blare loud, obnoxious (in my opinion) music while under the eaves of our roof, on the phone lines, and in the Orange tree, birds sing lovely songs as a buffer of beauty.

• To my great joy, a bag of colorful autumn leaves (rare in Southern California) were delivered by my friend, Alice.

• Though creepy, a large green spider guards its egg sac at the top of our Norfolk Pine. The spider blends in with the green pine. It is a beauty I do not want to encounter too closely.

In Julia Cameron’s book, The Sound of Paper, I read these words about the making of a pearl, “At root, a pearl is a ‘disturbance,’ a beauty caused by something that isn’t supposed to be there . . .” An unexpected irritant becomes a thing of beauty. Can the harsh music blaring be a disturbance to create beauty? What beautiful change does God want to create within me and between my neighbor and me due to the disturbance? Can I allow the disturbance to form a pearl in me? What about for the greater good of the neighborhood?

Frank C. Laubauch in Letters by a Modern Mystic wrote, “Sometimes one feels that there is a discord between the cross and beauty. . . . there is in the universe a higher kind of beauty. It is the beauty of sacrifice, of giving up for others, of suffering for others. . . . The beauty of sacrifice is the final word in beauty.”

Jesus came to earth. Isaiah and others prophesied this great hope – the Messiah. Jesus suffered and died a torturous death before He was resurrected and returned to His heavenly home. In spite of how it seems there is great beauty in Christ’s sacrifice. I am moved by His great love. In John 15:13 Jesus says, “Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends” (NASB). It is often hard for us to make sacrifices; they are inconvenient and often uncomfortable. Can sacrifice be a thing of beauty? The sacrifice Robertson McQuilkin made for his wife when she had Alzheimers has been told countless times. It is a rare human to love so much. You can follow the link below to read his story and watch the video of his early retirement speech – the one he gave in order to stay home and care for his wife.

https://www.christianitytoday.com/news/2016/june/died-robertson-mcquilkin-columbia-president-alzheimers-ciu.html

I have accepted the invitation to expand my idea of beauty. I have accepted the invitation to pay attention and live expectantly. God is the Creator of all Beauty and He creates beauty from ashes. What is His invitation to you? Are you dissatisfied with your life? Are you overlooking the pearls being formed in the midst of disturbances? Ask God to give you eyes to see – to see the beauty He designs using every bit of your life.

Two Little Boys and Dirty Pool Water

 

“When the world conditions so debase our imaginations into a devaluation of place, we no longer have context for faith in Jesus Christ. . . . It would never occur to us that the actual place in which we live and labor is adequate to support large spiritual enterprises like salvation and sanctification. And so it is necessary that a love of locale be recovered: this street, these trees, this humidity, these houses. Without reverence for the local, obedience floats on the clouds of abstraction.” Euguene Peterson, Take and Read

If you’ve been reading my blog for awhile, you know I’ve tried to understand more fully what it means to be a neighbor in a community in which I struggled to feel at home for a long time. God’s invitation to me has been to be present in this neighborhood, consent to be where He placed me and pay attention. I am slowly learning. But the learning isn’t from any good I have done, it’s been through His orchestration of events in this season of life.

Two little neighbor boys and a very large wading pool needing emptied have created a greater connection between us and the neighbors on the east side of our home. Let me back up a bit. Just before everything shut down from COVID-19, the mom next door and her two grown daughters came over to tell me they were taking in two nephews, ages 3 and 1. And could I babysit the boys for a couple days until they enrolled them into daycare? I was dumbstruck. My head started reeling with thoughts of these two babies moving into new circumstances without their mama, and the first day they would be with me – someone they never met. Their whole world was changing. I said, “Yes” of course but by the time the little ones arrived everything was shut down and these uprooted little ones had lots of time to be in their new home and adjust to the changes without my help.

Our neighbors are close in proximity here in Southern California making it easy for me to hear and delight in the mumbled toddler prayers around meals and ABCs sung. New sounds drift across the fence: laughter, tired fussy sounds, toddlers screaming in frustration, and the oldest calling out “Jim.” We met the two boys when the neighbor brought them over to introduce us. Then there were birthdays. Upon delivering gifts I found myself gifted by the nudge of a one-year-old wanting me to hold him. I sat him on my lap with his back facing my chest and he put his fuzzy head against my face. How precious!

And then in the heat of summer they got a pool – a giant wading pool! Splashing in cool, clear water for hot days. Shouts of ‘Marco Polo’, squeals and laughter were heard day after day. In a few week’s time we noticed a water flow under our fence into the succulent bed and up onto the patio. We let it go. Since we live down slope from them it would be hard to empty a pool without it draining into our backyard. Days later the pool water turned dirty and murky from all the play and was emptied into our succulent bed and the patio.

My husband is a resourceful person, so with his idea planted in my brain for sharing, I made a visit. I kindly let them know our succulents will die with so much water. Who knew that plants could be over watered in the coastal desert? I presented the idea: Would they be willing to let us know when the pool needed draining and Jim would siphon it through a hose and water plants in greater need. They agreed and we did.

But after we started siphoning the way we worked evolved. Jim recognized it was a lot more water than he expected and it would take a long time at a slow drain. He borrowed his Dad’s pump and sped up the process. We hauled water in buckets where the hose didn’t reach. The three-year-old, Hugo, came and helped Jim water plants. And the daughters assisted on their end keeping things going.

One time the pool was so full, it was more water than we could use on our whole yard. So we asked the neighbors west of us if they wanted to fill up their rain barrels. Their whole yard is produce and they were happy to take the water. So two hoses stretched across our back yard connecting neighbor to neighbor. It was a wonderful thing. Being at home more with COVID-19 restrictions, we have interacted with our neighbors more.

I am reminded of Jesus’ answer when questioned by a teacher of the law, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?” “The most important one,” answered Jesus, “is this: Hear O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.”

Jesus didn’t answer the question but He expanded the answer with the second most important commandment. Though our next door neighbors are included in this passage, a neighbor isn’t just the next door neighbor. Jesus is referring to whomever the Holy Spirit brings across my path and tugs at my heart to love: see, hear, and help – give value in the way Jesus would. It can seem so ordinary at times. It can look like:

• Giving a heavy duty grocery bag to a homeless man on a bicycle whose thin grocery bag has broken open

  
  

• Genuinely asking the cashier how her day is going and saying a few encouraging words

• Baked goods for a neighbor’s birthday or just because

• Giving your two homemade cookies to the young woman at work who is looking for a vending machine where there isn’t one

• A hot meal for a struggling family

• Going the extra mile when returning a borrowed car, not only filling up the gas tank but also washing the car by hand and vacuuming it

Neighbors come in all shapes and sizes and acts of neighboring can touch upon any need. We can do this because we serve an all sufficient Shepherd. We lack nothing. We can never out give our Lord. How have you connected with people during COVID-19? Who’d you help and in what way? Who has neighbored you well? Can you recall a particularly wonderful neighbor – one you never wanted to lose? What made that neighbor so special? The neighbors of my childhood – the longest standing neighbors of my life up to this point – was my maternal grandparents. And I could write a book about the wonderful ways in which they neighbored those around them. Consider how living fully where God has planted you might increase hope for yourself and others. Paying attention and responding to the people who intersect with lives is a gift of hope.

Transitions

Last week we celebrated Jim’s 65^th birthday. This week we transitioned into another season: autumn in the northern hemisphere and spring for the southern hemisphere. While I wait for hot days to move out and colder days to move in, somewhere, someone else in the world waits for snow to melt and for warmth to arrive on a gentle breeze. There are times when a season changes suddenly and dramatically, other times a change of season moves in gradually. We live where autumn never makes a grand entrance and I really have to pay attention to notice the early arrival of the season.

Are you a bit like me, finding yourself thinking as the seasons change, “I can’t wait for life to get back to normal”? Then I check myself. What is it I really want to go back to? God is doing a new thing. Do I trust God in this strange time, trust everything is under His control and His eternal plan will not fail?

Shelly Miller writes in her new book, Searching for Certainty, words to challenge my wishful thinking to go back to normal. “When uncertainty triggers the fear of scarcity, we grasp on to the familiar as comfort. Hoarding is often a first response to forecasts for which we have no control. . . . If we are honest, most of us will admit that we long for certainty more than the uncertain new things God has in mind for us.”

Draped over the back of Jim’s recliner is a quilt. This quilt, made for us when we married by a few women who attended our church, is patched together in a pattern called Transition. After the quilt was pieced, sandwiched with batting and backing, bound and quilted, it was displayed in the church foyer a few weeks before our wedding. On Sundays, many hands tied knots in the threads pulled through the beautiful fabrics and many heads bent over in prayer for us. Transition, an appropriate quilt block since we were making dramatic changes in our lives to get married.

And over these past nine years of marriage much has changed. There have been losses, unexpected hardship, and delightful surprises. In all, when I have been willing to surrender – to consent to what God has allowed – even the most difficult experiences brought good into our lives and to go back to the way it was would be to lose all that was gained. Shelly Miller continues by saying, “In fear, we can miss the obvious – that your uncertainty is God’s opportunity to reveal his great love for you.”

I sometimes become afraid. Don’t you? The world is transitioning and I do not recognize it. So much has changed – some for the worse and some for the better. People want change and often the requests for change are viable but sometimes the means undermines the desire. Groups of people being fought for are often overlooked in the fray. Are we fighting to win something or to truly change how we treat one another? These are thoughts rattling around in my head when I feel alarmed by the violent reactions, when I feel afraid and confused. Some days I feel overwhelmed by the anger and hate, by news that seems hopeless.

In her timely and relevant book, Searching for Certainty, Shelly Miller speaks into my difficulty. “Transitions are rife with awkward, uncomfortable, and offensive details that make the promise of a new season a mockery of hope. . . . Overexposure [as in photography] is defined as too much light shed on the topic. Spiritually speaking, excessive media coverage headlining wealth of bad news makes it difficult to discern God’s presence. And overexposure to bad news often leads to apathy. Like the Israelites, we begin to paint the future through the lens of what we don’t have.”

I don’t have answers or know what new normal will evolve. All I know is I have people around me, people whose lives I can share the hope of Christ. I live in a diverse community and this is the space in which I need to grow in love – these are the people I need to embrace. I have to begin here and it is really the only thing I know to do besides pray and vote. My hope is not in government but in God. To live in hope when surrounded by so much despair is to live by faith. Minnie Louise Haskins wrote these words, a picture of walking in faith and hope.

“And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year: Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown. And he replied: Go out into the darkness and put thine hand into the hand of God. That shall be to thee better than light and safer than a known way.” M. L. Haskins

I reach up into the darkness and take His hand as we transition into an unknown season. I hope you will join me. We need not despair; the darkness does not overcome the Light.

Planning For Sustainable Dreams

 

The summer break is over. I only know this because I asked the teenager next door when she started back to school. The middle school around the block is silent. There is nothing indicating school is in session. I usually hear announcements, the Pledge of Allegiance, and loud music throughout the day. I’m not sure what the music has to do with education but in our neighborhood it is a sign school has begun. It’s been a long time since I’ve had school-aged children in my home but still the rhythm of my life wraps itself around the first day of school. This is a signal I am in transition; it’s a new season.

September is for me what January is for others. The beginning of the school year I reorder my life; it is a summons to take a hard left on this journey. When school supplies are advertised in the grocery ads, I am invited to begin again. This year I am a bit behind and am thrown off kilter for a couple of months. I have been on an unplanned hiatus from writing and posting on my blog. Writing has been difficult throughout the whole COVID-19 season. So many changes and not enough time to recover equilibrium. I am a slow processor. Change requires recalculation. Lots of changes requires lots of recalculating. All of us have been doing a good bit of recalculating. For a slow processor, as you can imagine, I can get stuck like a scratched record during lots of change and need a little bump to move from skipping in my head to humming a song.

It’s been a slow start. I write and scrap it, then I write some more. I have struggled to complete more than a few coherent paragraphs. I have doubted myself, my purpose and the value of writing a blog. It comes down to this: I enjoy writing, I feel a call to write, and for the those who are uplifted or encouraged by words I have strung together, it is worth it. It helps to talk with other creatives who have limped along through such a season with little to show for it.

I haven’t given enough value to the process. Just like Sabbath rest. This will make sense in a few sentences so please hang in there with me. For years I have studied and practiced Sabbath rest. But recently I read Dan Allender’s book, Sabbath: The Ancient Practices, and was smacked with the reality that I haven’t planned for the Sabbath. Not really. I haven’t planned for a time of celebration and delight in His presence. I just stop working, so I have missed a lot of the real meaning of Sabbathing. It has become the same way with writing. I work at writing, I learn what other authors do to keep going, but I haven’t really planned for writing long term. It is planning for sustainability.

But I’m gently transitioning to another season with Autumn Spice (dōTERRA essential oil) wafting from the diffuser in the kitchen. I listen to music that reminds me Autumn trips to southern Missouri. It’s an invitation to move into the next season with a map – a well prayed over and thought out plan for

writing. It makes me nervous; with a plan comes greater commitment. I am in! How about you? What is it that you want more of but you’ve not made space for it? What dreams would you like to make come true but you haven’t planned for them. It requires discipline and the ability to know how and when to say “no” so you can say “yes” to the one

thing you long to invest in. Join me; let’s move forward with renewed commitment and a plan well prayed over about how to best to use our gifts and follow our dreams.