Golf and Being Seen

The other day I was at golf “Boot Camp” with my friend.  I’m a little embarrassed to admit it because golf does not sound very cool and does sound frivolous, but that’s the truth.

At one point the pro came and stood behind me. 

I said, “Ok, watch and tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

She said, “No, I’m going to tell you what you’re doing right.”

Wow, that’s different.

There’s always so much to correct.  I’m forever focusing on the negative – what needs to be fixed in my golf game…and in me.

In “real life” too.  I focus on all that is un-Jesus-y in me and I realize that I think that must be what catches all His attention too.

But 2 Chronicles 16:9 says “the eyes of the Lord range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to Him.”

Reading that, I picture a dad on the sidelines of his 5-year-old’s soccer game, intent on finding the positives to call out in his son.  Sometimes it’s just “Way to go!  You’re running towards the right goal!!”

I like the golf pro who was helping us at Boot Camp.  After a bit, everything seemed to come together and the ball was actually going where it was supposed to go and going about as far as I could expect it to.  At least for the moment.

At that point I had two natural reactions.  The first was to think Jesus might be returning because this was unprecedented.

The second was to instinctively look around for John to see if he saw my good shots.  He wasn’t anywhere in sight, but that’s always my instinct.  He’s such a cheerleader for me…always excited at my progress.  I want him to see me.  To be proud.

Don’t we all want to be “seen”?  To have someone notice, and applaud our baby steps of progress?

Almost as soon as I looked for John, it was like Jesus whispered, “He’s not here, but I see you.  Whether in golf, or “real life” I always see and I’m for you.” 

Amazing.

Jesus never journalled?

Recently we had a fantastic guest speaker at our church. 

According to an informal survey he took, most people don’t like journaling.  They are relieved when they are assured that Jesus never journalled. 

We want to be like Jesus and Jesus didn’t journal so that’s one less thing we need to feel guilty about.

But as someone who likes to journal, I want to say “Hey!  Wait a minute!  How do we KNOW He didn’t journal?  After all, the Bible never says “Jesus sang.”  Or danced.  But maybe He did!

Maybe He was a CLOSET JOURNALLER !!  Maybe He LOVED journaling!

Really, though, I don’t think it matters if He did or He didn’t. 

I think what matters is the value beneath it.

Journaling is just a tool like other things that help us lead an examined life…help us pay attention the work of God in our lives…Help us ask “Lord what do you want to show me about Yourself and myself?” 

Journaling may not be necessary for an examined life, but what is?  

Space?  Attention?  

  Maybe Jesus never journalled, but I look at the time He had walking or boating with the disciples from one town to another,

  the time for reflection,

the conversations,

the questions,

the time carved out to be alone and pray…

That makes me think that even IF He didn’t journal, making time to process life with His Father and others was still a priority.

Maybe some days I need to put away my journal in order to be less self- absorbed, and maybe some days I need to force myself to pick up a pen and process with God some of the not-so-lovely truths He wants me to see.  

You?

Psalm 26:2,3.  Test me Lord and try me, examine my heart and my mind.  For I have been mindful of your unfailing love and have lived in reliance on your faithfulness.

Letter to our Daughters

Our family is often spread to different corners of the world. But we’re emotionally close and we value communication and accessibility.

For me that’s often texts and phone conversations with our daughters, but for John it’s usually emails. The other day he sent this email to them. I share it with their permission, in hopes that looking over his shoulder will be a blessing to you too.

So, I'm walking along the beach, trying to recover... I mean, I jogged almost four miles (or was that four blocks?). For some reason, seeing a sailboat brought you to mind. One sign of age is not being able to remember whether (or how often) you've said something, so you may be rolling your eyes, but…

Long ago, the Sirens were a group of very angry women spirits - angry at men for some ancient slight. They had the power of enchantment with their voices and music, and would lure sailors to themselves as they were passing through a narrow strait, leading them to crash on the rocks.

Only two heroes triumphed: When Ulysses and crew knew they had to go through the strait he wisely told his men to fill their ears with wax, to be immune to their music. But he wanted to hear, so he made his men lash him to the mast, swearing them not to release him until they were out of sight of the island.

As they sailed by, the women played and cried out to the men, but they were deaf... all but Ulysses, who strained against the cords, until long after the island was out of sight, hearing the music in his mind. And ever after he would hear the music tempting him.

But the other was Jason (and the Argonauts). As the ship approached the Sirens, he asked Orpheus, the world's best musician whom he'd been counseled to bring along, to begin playing. So sweet was his music that the sailors were more strongly enchanted than by the sound of the Sirens, and they all sailed to safety...

All that from the sight of a sailboat, and too little oxygen! But I've thought of how we resist the temptations and dangers of the world. Sometimes it's like Ulysses, and we bind ourselves by oaths or accountability or strength of will; other times, though, we need “better music”.

The reminder of the Good,

Noble

Beautiful,

that God sets before us.

I prayed for you guys this morning, for some reason about guys… That you wouldn't settle, or hear the siren call of loneliness or peer pressure...

And I prayed even harder for two men out there - that they too, would be learning to hear the music that is stronger than the music of the world. Love you both, to the moon!

What Grace looks Like

Yesterday a close friend flew down and will be here for the last two weeks of our stay. She is six feet tall and model –like. Beautiful on the outside, but if possible, her spirit is even more beautiful.

She travels a lot. Because she is tall and also often has to get up on long flights she always reserves an aisle seat.

Yesterday when she got to her seat on the crowded flight there was a large man sitting there.

He looked at her.

He didn’t move.

He didn’t offer to move.

He didn’t apologize.

He was very…ungracious.

Now I think my friend truly has one facial expression, and that is one of grace.

She smiled at this guy with love and asked, “Where is your seat?”

He pointed back a row to a middle seat.

A middle seat with two men sitting on either side.

“Would you like to stay here and have me take your seat?” she asked.

“Yeah, I really would,” was his response.

So she did. She squeezed in-between the guys, taking the middle seat like someone trying to fit into too-small jeans.

That was it.

REALLY?? REALLY??

If it had been me I might have grudgingly remembered “As you do it to the least of these you do it to me…”

Consequently I might have taken the crummy seat with an exasperated, I-can’t-believe-you’re-such-a-jerk air.

At t the very least I would have given the guy what John calls “the glare”.

But here’s the thing…As my friend told this story it wasn’t with anger, or frustration or self-righteousness. At all!

Instead she told about how great the guys were that she ended up sitting between.

How they all got up and went to the bathroom as a team…

That’s what grace looks like.

The guy in her seat gave her less than nothing.

She gave him what he didn’t deserve.

Now that might not seem like a big deal, but to me it’s the small glimpses of grace that make a huge impact on me because they’re so…inconvenient.

The opportunities are so "every day."

When we think about grace we usually think of Jesus’ death on the cross in our place. Dramatic. Humanly impossible.

But I wonder about the everyday pictures Jesus gave his disciples of what grace looks like.

When standing in line at the grocery store.

In a crowded parking lot.

When someone took His seat.

I asked my friend what went through her mind on the plane. She said she had prayed that morning that God would give her an opportunity to show kindness to someone. And this guy seemed to be Hi s answer.

I read a quote this morning. Dorotheos of Gaza, a 6^th century teacher wrote “…there is no way to move toward God without drawing closer to people, and no way to approach other people without coming nearer to God.”

I think in that moment on the plane my friend did both.

Nothing to Lose

The other day a friend shared something exciting with me.

I’m embarrassed to admit it, but instead of being able to rejoice in what was added to her life, I felt sad and small, focusing on what it felt like had been taken from mine.

It feels like the cup of life that is mine - that which is special to me alone, is so tiny. And it felt like for her to receive what she did, some of what was “mine” had to be poured out, leaving me with less. Kind of like spilled milk.

Do you ever feel this way?

I didn’t like what this stirred up in me and I didn’t want to pay attention and look deeper because I was pretty sure it would reveal more insecurity and selfishness and ugliness about me.

But I gave in and grudgingly asked, “Lord, what do you have to show me about Yourself and myself in this?”

The Bible says Jesus was tempted in every way but didn’t sin. Were there times when He felt diminished? Less than? Small, or “robbed” of something that was “His”?

The story that came to mind as I was reflecting on this was that of the Samaritan woman at the well. Jesus offers her water – living water – a veritable spring of water. Kind of like those magic glasses that stay filled even when you pour water out.

A friend of ours suggests whenever we feel our stomach or hands clenching in a situation,

whenever we feel threatened,

we need to remind ourselves, “I have nothing to prove and nothing to lose.”

Could it be that I really don’t have anything to lose?

Could it be that we’re loved with a love that cannot be diminished?

Given the identity of beloved, redeemed child of God that can’t be taken away?

The Bible says “Whoever believes in me…rivers of living water will flow from within them.”

I’m trying to live out of that river today,

out of an economy of eternal abundance,

rather than a ledger of gain and loss,

rejoicing with my friend.

The Pink Dog Lady

Every morning I ride my friend’s bike to a Starbucks three and a half miles away. Every morning I pass a rooster in a yard that crows, reminding me of Africa and my friends there. And every morning where I sit, I see the woman in this picture. With her two dogs. Always dressed in pink bandanas to match her pink outfit. And they sit on their chairs.

The first time I saw her my first thought was, “That is SO wrong. There are children being neglected around the world and her dogs sit at a table with her. In matching outfits.

My second thought was, “Oh my gosh, what if that’s me in twenty years? Lonely and crazy enough to do that?”

My third thought was, “I wonder what Jesus’ first thought would be.”

Jesus and the woman at the well and Jesus and the woman caught in adultery, Jesus and the bent woman. It doesn’t seem like His first thought was ever, “That is SO wrong!”

I don’t know what His first thought was, but I know He saw beloved children, created in His image.

With the “sinful” woman who anoints him, He asks the Pharisees, “Do you see this woman?” I imagine there was an implied, “REALLY see, like I do?”

And He asked questions. Invited people to share their story.

So I’m trying to “see” the pink lady. And today I asked her a question.

“What are your dogs’ names?”

Lame, I know, but I figure I’ve gotta start somewhere.

Unburn

My husband, John has been leading our church and our denomination through some controversial waters lately, making it seem some days like he’s Jason Bourne running the gauntlet with a lot of people shooting at him. One person threatened him and called him a terrorist… A tad scary. I asked if there wasn’t “someone” we should report that to. As our friend Sharon says, “Words matter.”

A couple months ago John met with a good friend of ours for coffee.

This should have been a good thing. It was with someone we love and respect.

But when he came home he was …dejected I guess is the word for it. Because this appointment was an attempt to start rebuilding a relationship that has been damaged by gossip. Gossip that was totally unfounded. And as much as John could deny this slander, the damage had been done. He was frustrated and tired and sad.

He and I have been overwhelmed and discouraged at different times experiencing the destructive power of the tongue.

In the Bible James says the tongue can destroy like a forest fire. How do you “un-burn” a forest after a fire?

We just can’t totally undo the damage of words. It seems there’s always a lingering wound, a seed of doubt, a bit of suspicion. I think about how long it takes a charred forest to experience re-growth and I grieve the damage that will take so long to repair. You just have to carefully protect and nurture the new life that starts to grow out of the ashes and pray no one sets another fire.

Why do we seem to want to expect the worst of others, especially leaders?

How delighted must Satan be when our gossip destroys the unity that Jesus called the Church to model?

This is an example from our life, but it’s not about “us”. It’s about all of us…it’s about the Body of Christ and our posture towards each other.

As someone who has both sinned in this way, and experienced the terrible fall-out from others who have, I want to renew my commitment to honest, direct conversations and words that build up. I feel like I should have Proverbs 10:19 tatooed on my hand: “Where words are many sin is not absent.”

Forgive us Lord. Forgive me. Nurture new life out of the ashes.

Snow Days?

This past week as the mega snowstorm swept across the country it was fun to read all the Facebook posts from people delighted with “snow days” – school, work, activities all cancelled. It was a gift to have to stay home and do nothing but curl up with cocoa and a good book…the delight of being forced to rest from normal activity.

I remember hearing someone say once that God wants to give us a “snow day” every week with Sabbath.

We’re blessed to have this extended break (Sabbatical), but in addition, John has decided to fast from any work-related reading this week. We'll see what next week will bring.

For me, technology blurs the lines. For a true Sabbath day that is distinctly sacred (set apart), I need to unplug.

When I do, I’m reminded of 2 things:

1. I’m not God and the world won’t stop spinning if I’m unplugged (how sad is THAT - needing to be reminded- but I’m guessing I’m not alone). God’s got the God thing covered and doesn’t need me.
2. I’m not defined by my roles, or titles, or responsibilities. I am a beloved child of God and that’s enough.

Observing Sabbath, I also notice I’m able to be more fully present, nurturing a Sabbath heart that is better able to pay attention to God and others.

Mark Buchanan writes that when we don’t Sabbath we’re in danger of letting ourselves be “consumed by the things that feed the ego but starve the soul.” Ouch! So true at least, of me! Unplugging for tomorrow. You?

The Rest of God

We’re in Florida on the first leg of a four-month sabbatical. Soaking up warmth, color, the smell of cut grass, the sound of the ocean…All things restorative, and we’re grateful for the gift of this time.

It seemed appropriate yesterday that I started reading The Rest of God about Sabbath by Mark Buchanan.

I think John does a good job of living a balanced life – working hard, maintaining appropriate boundaries, making time for recreation. And he’s taught me to be better at it, which is hard for someone with “activator” and “achiever” as strengths. But I’m being reminded that Sabbath is about much more than balance and boundaries. I don’t want to become more legalistic about Sabbath, but I do want to become more intentional. And I want to better understand this rhythm God desires.

Buchanan writes, “In a culture where busyness is a fetish and stillness is laziness, rest is sloth. But without rest we miss the rest of God: the rest He invites us to enter more fully so that we might know Him more deeply…Sabbath is both a day and an attitude to nurture such stillness…both time on a calendar and a disposition of the heart…Sabbath imparts the rest of God – actual physical, mental, spiritual rest, but also the rest of God – the things of God’s nature and presence we miss in our busyness…”

We’ve got lots of time to think about this now while we’re on break, but what about you? Is Sabbath something you intentionally practice? What does it look like? Does the idea of Sabbath seem like a generous gift or an irritating interruption? I really would like to know (if you have a minute)