2012: The Year of Reconciliation?

"One of the hardest things in life is to let go of old hurts. We often say, or at least think: 'What you did to me and my family, my ancestors, or my friends I cannot forget or forgive. ... One day you will have to pay for it.' Sometimes our memories are decades, even centuries, old and keep asking for revenge. Holding people's faults against them often creates an impenetrable wall. But listen to Paul: 'For anyone who is in Christ, there is a new creation: the old order is gone and a new being is there to see. It is all God's work' (2 Corinthians 5:17-18). Indeed, we cannot let go of old hurts, but God can. Paul says: 'God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, not holding anyone's fault against them' (2 Corinthians 5:19). It is God's work, but we are God's ministers, because the God who reconciled the world to God entrusted to us 'the message of reconciliation' (2 Corinthians 5:19). This message calls us to let go of old hurts in the Name of God. It is the message our world most needs to hear."

-Henri Nouwen

This quote from Nouwen was in my email box this morning and I've read it several times. I can't think of a more perfect thought to fill my mind and heart as I close out a year and enter a new one. So many of us, myself included, make resolutions or a list of goals for the new year -- lose weight, start exercising; less TV, more fiber -- but how many of us make deeper goals for the new year? Sure, I might add "read the Bible more " to the list, but that's still only scratching the surface.

What if we (and when I say "we" I'm honestly including myself!) were to sit for a moment and ponder the deeper goal of reconciliation? What broken relationships are in our lives that need mending? What offenses do we need to let go of? And not in the "shrug it off" kind of way, but really pouring out the pain at the Lord's feet and then leaving it there? Is there someone we need to write to or call to begin the process of healing? What if we're convinced that it was all THEIR fault? Will we keep digging in our heels, or can we extract ourselves from the cement of stubbornness (which is so often rooted in pride and fear, right?) and reach out across the miles, or across the dinner table, and open the door to new communication?

This all hits very close to home for me. As many of you know, my parents and I suffered a severe rift six years ago, and I have not heard from them since. I've reached out a few times, but to no avail. My attitude over the past few years has been one of resignation, "Oh well, I tried." But God's not letting me off the hook; a New Year's card is sitting on the coffee table, addressed to my parents, ready for a stamp. I've been putting it off, but I know I need to send it. Today. With no expectations, but with faith in the Reconciler...that He knows the pain on both sides and He longs for healing in my family even more than I do.

To be brutally honest, though, sometimes I don't actually want to be reconciled. Aye, there's the rub. It's an ugly truth. I'd rather deal with the twinges of pain on birthdays and holidays than deal with the struggle to maintain relationships with "difficult people." I'd rather settle for an easy peace than the harder work of building bridges. Sloth at it's best...or worst. Lord, have mercy on me.

It struck me just now how the Father's heart must ache when relationships break. I know how my heart breaks when my sons fight or wound each other; I can only imagine how God must feel when His children hurt each other and discard one another, and even moreso when it happens within the church. John 13:35 says the world will know we are Jesus' disciples by our love for one another, so why isn't our first mission to clean up our relationships with each other? All the "good deeds" we do are kind of meaningless if we're holding resentment and bitterness toward a Brother or Sister. And I don't think the Lord lets us off the hook if the rift is with someone who's not a believer. (Case in point, my parents aren't Christians.) Ultimately, this is about our relationship with God, and following His commands to forgive and to be at peace with all people. We can't control what other people do and how they respond, of course, but shouldn't it be OUR job, as Christ's ambassadors, to make the first move? What's stopping us?

Talk about an upward/outward/inward process...upward to God by asking Him to show me my heart and confessing, repenting, and receiving His forgiveness; outward to others by reaching out and beginning the process of reconciliation; inward to myself to take a serious look at why this is so hard for me, what my fears are, and oh yeah, maybe what part *I* played in the breakdown of the relationships that are broken. And then back to God to confess...and back to others to bring things into the light...ah, the circle of life.

I hope you will join me in this journey to make 2012 the Year of Reconciliation. Let's mend past hurts and commit to keeping short accounts about future ones. Let's try to apologize more quickly and forgive more easily. Let's be intentional about processing the deep pain that has ahold of our hearts so that we can move forward on this upward/outward/inward journey of life. I would love to pray with and for anyone who needs help in this area. We need each other!

Time to put a stamp on the envelope and put that card in the mail.

Happy New Year, everyone.

Invite Him In

When creating and serving a signature dish, a chef will sometimes say, "That's me on the plate." Artists will say the same thing, "That's who I am, on the canvass." I'm a wannabe chef and writer and often I will put my heart out there via food and words...but every now and then I read what someone else wrote and resonate with it so deeply, that it feels like they took my heart and put it into words far more cogent and eloquent than I ever could. I read such writing this morning and had to post it here.

It's my heart...on the screen...via John and Stasi Eldredge. I share it with you with much love, and prayers that we will invite Him in, and continue to do so for the rest of our days.

---------------

There is a famous passage of Scripture which many people have heard in the context of an invitation to know Christ as Savior. "Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in…" (Rev 3:20). He does not force himself upon us. He knocks, and waits for us to ask him in. There is an initial step, the first step of this which we call salvation. We hear Christ knocking and we open our hearts to him as Savior. It is the first turning. But the principle of this "knocking and waiting for permission to come in" remains true well into our Christian life.

You see, we all pretty much handle our brokenness in the same way - we mishandle it. It hurts too much to go there. So we shut the door to that room in our heart and we throw away the key - much like Lord Craven locks the Secret Garden upon the death of his wife, and buries the key. But that does not bring healing. Not at all. It might bring relief - for awhile. But never healing. Usually it orphans the little girl in that room, leaves her to fend for herself. The best thing we can do is to let Jesus come in, open the door and invite him in to find us in those hurting places.

It might come as a surprise that Christ asks our permission to come in and heal, but he is kind, and the door is shut from the inside, and healing never comes against our will. In order to experience his healing we must also give him permission to come in to the places we have so long shut to anyone. Will you let me heal you? He knocks through our loneliness. He knocks through our sorrows. He knocks through events that feel too close to what happened to us when we were young - a betrayal, a rejection, a word is spoken, a relationship is lost. He knocks through many things, waiting for us to give him permission to enter in.

Perfect Autumn Dessert

Haven't blogged in awhile. Many things stirring in my soul but nothing I can write about just yet. In the meantime, let me share this delicious recipe; I made it last night for a gathering and it was a big hit. It's perfect for an autumn evening...enjoy!

Apple, Pear, and Dried-Cherry Crumble

1/2 cup sugar
3 tablespoons plus 1-1/2 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon, divided
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
4 large Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored, cut into 1/4” slices
2 large pears, peeled, cored, cut into 1/4-inch-thick slices
1 cup dried cherries (or dried cranberries...I used some of each!)
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
3/4 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons finely grated lemon peel
Vanilla and/or caramel ice cream

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Butter 13x9x2- inch oval ceramic baking dish. Mix sugar, 3 tablespoons flour, 1 teaspoon cinnamon, and nutmeg in large bowl. Add apples, pears, and dried cherries to bowl; sprinkle with lemon juice and toss to coat. Transfer to prepared dish.

Using fingertips, mix butter, brown sugar, lemon peel, remaining 1 1/2 cups flour, and remaining 1 teaspoon cinnamon in medium bowl until moist clumps form. Crumble butter mixture over fruit.

Bake until fruit bubbles at edges and crumble is crisp and beginning to brown on top, about 1 hour. Cool about 20 minutes.

Spoon crumble into bowls and serve with ice cream.

from Bon Appetit magazine

Bittersweet

"Desire is the source of our most noble aspirations and our deepest sorrows. The pleasure and the pain go together; indeed, they emanate from the same region in our hearts." -- John Eldredge

Today was fun, it really was.

Glenn threw a party for my 50th birthday. "Ninapalooza!" :) I was surrounded by family and friends who are near and dear to me. We laughed a lot. We ate yummy grilled meat and an amazing chocolate and lemon layer cake with lemon curd and chocolate ganache (thanks Debbie!). We all enjoyed the sunshine and cool breeze of Alameda, right next to the bay. I was given some wonderful gifts, hand-picked with care. I felt loved. Very loved.

And yet...

...there was a twinge of pain I couldn't shake. The ache of missing loved ones who could not be here today for various reasons -- relatives and dear friends who live too far away; family from whom I'm estranged; a close-as-a-brother friend who died many years ago; a friend who recently bid me a painful farewell. I carry them all in my heart along with the longings -- wishing I could have afforded to fly everyone out here; wondering if there will ever be reconciliation; wishing he hadn't died; wanting a different ending.

Maybe this explains why I love the combination of lemon and chocolate so much.

As the cake was cut today, I was struck by the beauty in the contrast of the yellow and brown layers; the interplay of light and dark. A bite of everything together brought an amazing taste sensation of sweet and sour and bitter; it was far more complex than a "just chocolate" or "just lemon" cake would have been. Just as my mouth savors the complexities of flavors, my heart savors the rich experience of emotional complexities.

So today I embrace the love and the loss, the joy and the pain, the laughter and the tears, the pleasure of what is and the longing for what could be. Not a bad way to usher in the next half-century of my life, eh?

P.S. I'm sure glad there's leftover cake!

Patient Trust

Had to share this; the first line completely grabbed me and I was riveted to the very end.

Patient Trust

by Pierre Teilhard De Chardin

Above all, trust in the slow work of God

We are quite naturally impatient in everything
to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to something
unknown, something new.
And yet it is the law of progress
that it is made by passing through
some states of instability ---
and that it may take a very long time.

And so I think it is with you.
Your ideas mature gradually --- let them grow,
let them shape themselves, without undue haste.

Don't try to force them on,
as though you could be today what time
(that is to say, grace and circumstances
acting on your own good will)
will make of you tomorrow.

Only God could say what this new spirit
gradually forming within you will be.
Give our Lord the benefit of believing
that His hand is leading you,
and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete.

Transition

Goodbye, hello.

Hello, goodbye.

He Loves Me (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah)

^{It's been a bad month.}

I had started taking care of my health -- physical, spiritual and mental -- and it all seemed to vaporize. I was finding it hard to even leave the house. Here I was in this lovely town about which I had waxed so poetic on this blog, and I would go days without going outside, spending time in my chair, watching DVDs and eating poorly. Why? What happened to my "resolve" to eat right, take walks, breathe deeply, soak up the sun, spend time with Jesus and read the Bible (aka soaking up the Son)...where did it all go?

Today a verse came to mind that illuminated things for me:

I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall.

I well remember them,

and my soul is downcast within me.

Yet this I call to mind

and therefore I have hope:

Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed...

That's from Lamentations, chapter 3. It hit me today that I have been in a perpetual state of lament which has been consuming me. And while I am a huge believer in lamenting, it is clearly not what is to consume us. I have allowed many emotions to consume my heart and soul and they have crowded out the truth that I know...the truth that is the bedrock of my life: I am the beloved of God. No matter what is going on, no matter how deep the pain, His love goes deeper. Somewhere along the way, I allowed other things to rule and reign in me. I was consumed.

Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.

How easily my soul can get entangled by other things instead of staying open to receive the deep, high, long and wide love of God. Yeah, yeah, yeah. How easily I can take for granted that the Creator of the Universe loves me with a love so great that He would sacrifice His only Son FOR ME. Yeah, yeah, yeah. How easily I can shrug that off and focus on my pain and struggle to the point of not taking care of myself, or even caring about caring. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.

The verse in Lamentations continues this way: Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.”

It truly is His kindness that leads to repentance. I do not want to be consumed by anything but Him.

So these are my marching orders -- Feel the feelings, but do not allow them to consume me. Get out of the chair. Take a walk. Eat some veggies. Breathe in the air. Go to the cross. Worship. Even if I feel lousy. Even if all I want to do is cry. Do not allow pain to stop me from maintaining some semblance of health.

And most of all, take time to soak in God's goodness, faithfulness and love.

Yes, yes, yes.

The Beauty of Ouch

I have spent the last 20 years (give or take) learning how to express my negative feelings; you know the ones -- anger, hurt, disappointment, fear, intimidation, etc. For someone who grew up in an emotionally abusive home, this has been quite a wild ride. After discovering I had a voice (dammit) I took far too many liberties with it, mostly at my husband and kids, and I did a lot of damage in the name of my healing. *sigh*

While I certainly made some big strides on this journey, the road was long with many a winding turn. About five years ago, I felt the Lord gently say to me, "Just because you CAN say something, doesn't mean you SHOULD." This was in the context of keeping my mouth shut at women's Bible studies where certainly the world would come to an end if I didn't speak up about certain things. (Ah, don't we love it when He points out spiritual pride?) But I soon realized this word applied to all areas of my life. Thus a new adventure began, of understanding I can CHOOSE not to speak and that doesn't mean someone is oppressing or squelching me. It doesn't mean I've lost my voice; it means I'm gaining some wisdom and discipline to know how to use that voice well. I don't think any of us ever gets this right 100% of the time, but since I came from such a deficit it felt a bit like learning how to walk. There have been times when I stayed silent when it became clear down the road that I should have spoken up, and vice-versa...sometimes about trivial things; sometimes about crucial issues. What a journey.

Somewhere along the way, I discovered the beauty of ouch. It's such a small word; I love how it feels in my mouth. Finding one's ouch is an important thing. What causes me to ouch might not cause you to ouch, and so it helps us understand each other more. Ouch doesn't accuse. It doesn't say, "YOU did this and YOU are bad/wrong/unacceptable." It says, "That hurt/stung/bothered ME." It helps to "keep things in the I" as therapists and communication instructors tell us over and over again.

Sometimes we don't know what to do with ouch. Defenses rise up ("I didn't do anything wrong!") or judgments are made ("You're too sensitive!"). I know I haven't always known what to do with someone else's ouch. Now I understand that one of the most beautiful phrases in the English language is, "I'm sorry that hurt you." This is such a gentle way to come alongside the person you care about and let them know you have heard and respected their ouch. (And if you're in the same room, a hug can be nice, too. At least for me.)

I recently had an exchange with a friend; "I need to say ouch," I said. I explained why. They listened and apologized, explaining what had been going on with them. I listened and forgave. It was over in about two minutes. That's a beautiful thing. Two minutes to avoid walls being built. Two minutes to create safety and freedom. It's a risk to do this, though, isn't it? It takes a leap of faith and humility; when I say ouch, I feel unguarded and vulnerable. However, I know one thing for sure (à la Oprah) -- if I *don't* have those conversations, then those two minutes of unspoken hurt/anger/disappointment will add up to days and years of suppressed feelings which damage my soul and build walls between me and others. It's taken a long time but I think I'm finally getting it through my head and heart that the more I do this, the less riskier it feels, especially in relationships where room and respect for our ouches has been established.

I am grateful for the people in my life who have also discovered the beauty of ouch....who take the risk with me, and who care for me when I do the same. You know who you are.

"Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble." - 1Peter 3:8

Pardon My Gushing

How do I love thee, Alameda? Let me count the ways, in no particular order:

1) The weather right now is splendiferous. Sunny with clear skies. High 60s to high 70s, depending on the day. Most of the time a lovely, cool breeze. I want to be outside all the time.

2) The water! I'm a mile from a freaking BEACH! Real sand. Small waves. Even a little pier. Sun glistening on the bay...pinch me!

3) It is so quiet here! Glenn thinks it has something to do with all the trees...they seem to absorb the traffic noise even on busier streets. Speaking of which...

4) The trees! The lush lawns! My eyes are still adjusting to all of this green. I hope I never take it for granted.

5) Soooo many beautiful and/or charming homes of various kinds -- Victorians, Dutch Farmhouses, Craftsmen, California Bungalows, even some Cape Cods and Colonials.

6) Hydrangeas!! So many of the aforementioned homes have lovely front yards/gardens; hydrangeas, which are my favorite, abound! And I'm talking big, mature bushes with lots and lots of those big, colorful flower balls.

7) It feels like I'm not in California, but in a small midwestern town. Why?

a) The 25mph speed limit on the Island = slower pace. (90+% of the drivers obey this law.)

b) There are corner markets in every neighborhood.

c) Everyone is friendly; passersby actually make eye contact and smile or say hello.

d) The entire town celebrates the 4th of July in a way I've never seen. Flags are de rigeur, even in CA, but BUNTING? Seeing Victorian homes with bunting carefully draped on porches and under windows...it's something I've only seen in movies/television shows/pictures of the midwest. And the parade here is famous. Which leads me to...

e) This year, one of the groups in the parade, the Hot Pink Feathers, caused quite a stir with their skimpy outfits. You'd think living so close to SF would make everyone jaded, but not here! As the online Alameda Patch newspaper reported, "It was a Mayberry meets Mardi Gras moment" and the town was abuzz, which delights me to no end. It seems there's really a place in CA where underwear is still considered private. (Victoria's Secret be damned!)

8) It's a very dog-loving place. Huge dog park. Dogs are allowed in some stores and on patios of restaurants (what is this, Paris?). And I see people walking their dogs everywhere. Can't wait to join them!

9) The view of the San Francisco skyline across the bay still makes me gasp; it's so beautiful on a clear day. (Today I could see the fog rolling in!) Nighttime brings the city lights and a sparkling Bay Bridge.

10) Speaking of the city...it's so close! 15 minutes by BART, 20 minutes by ferry, 30 minutes by car (or even less when there's no traffic).

11) It's foodie heaven with lots of restaurants of all ethnicities and price ranges. Of course, I want to try them all!

12) There are a couple of "downtown" areas which look like Main Street, USA; even the one that's more upscale.

13) South Shore Center -- a sprawling outdoor mall across the street from, yup, the shore! Includes Trader Joe's, a huge Safeway, Bed Bath & Beyond, Ross, Kohl's, Petco, and lots of restaurants and smaller stores. It's well-landscaped and there are benches under the shady trees for when one needs a rest from shopping.

14) Pagano's Hardware Store! I cannot say enough about this place which is just two blocks from our house. The kitchen section alone is worth a visit.

15) The movie theater..stunning! An old art deco movie palace which was renovated a few years ago at a price tag of over $15 million. Just beautiful. There are eight screens total, but the main cinema is in the big theater.

I'm sure I'll think of more.

A friend said to me today, "You're where you're supposed to be; you're home." Yeah...I really think so.

C is for...

I went to a Church this evening which absolutely delighted me. It was mostly younger-than-me people (e.g. the pastor is 32!) who are Completely passionate about Creating a Cross-Centered, Christ-following Community...with a capital C...kind of stunning for this day and age, really. Their information contained words like Covenant, Commitment and even Confrontation. Suddenly I didn't feel like such an old fogey after all. They are absolutely open to Conversation with the Curious and skeptical while being completely serious in their pursuit of truth and looking intently (and intensely) at what Scripture has to say about everything. Short of being a "house church," they want to, as much as possible, live a first-century life within the twenty-first-century culture. I was more than impressed.

I had the opportunity to Chat with the pastor at the end of the service and to pray for him. He's got a big heart and a big vision for his small-but-growing flock. And while I don't know if I will join them on their particular journey, I wanted very much to bless this shepherd and his very serious desire to live "life together" (à la Bonhoeffer).

(Check them out at www.eucharistsf.org.)

A Purpose-Driven Life

"We are not human doings, we are human beings," I have been known to say.

Now I get to walk the talk.

This is a very interesting season for me. I am in a new home in a new town where I don't know anyone. I don't have a job or a ministry or even a church to attend...yet. The dogs aren't even here...yet. My calendar is, for the most part, completely empty, and I am alone for 13+ hours each weekday.

I could say, "Be careful what you wish for," as much of my adult life has been so hectic (sometimes frenetic!) and for many years Glenn worked at home, so I rarely had the house to myself. The calendar was always filled with various church/ministry/school activities, meetings and appointments and it often took a lot of schedule finagling to find a couple of hours to spend with a friend, especially when I added a part-time job to the mix! Kids were always present in one way or another. Now, the house is silent and tidy. (Not that I'm complaining!)

Have I had some times of being down? You bet. But for the most part, I feel like I have been given an amazing gift...a Divine respite/breather/time of rest. There are things I *could* do (one look in our disorganized filing cabinets would tell you that). But for now, I am glad to finally BE, because frankly, I have been mentally/physically/emotionally EXHAUSTED for a looong time.

So I move slowly. Breathe deeply. Soak in the green foliage around me. Talk to God and read the Word. Listen to music. Play online Scrabble. Chat with friends on Facebook. Watch TV shows on hulu.com that I've missed. Read magazines and books. Nibble on dark chocolate. I'm finally getting enough energy back that I'm ready to start slowly exploring my new town and go walking on the beach. (I hope to be able to walk to the beach and back every day, but I need to work up to that!)

And there is finally time and emotional space to process the past couple of years.

(True confessions -- There are days I feel like I "should" be playing the piano/guitar and singing, but that's how I know it's not time yet...it will come.)

A couple of days ago I was feeling a lack of purpose, which I think would be normal under these circumstances. Since then, I have felt the nudge of the Father, reminding me that I was created for relationship with Him first; my purpose has always been, and will always be, to be His child. And it is this purpose that drives me, whether I'm doing or being.

That's my "purpose-driven" life for now, and it is enough.

The First of Many Lasts

As Glenn was saying goodbye to our sons and me this morning -- to head off on the two-day drive to our new place in Alameda -- it hit me hard that it was the last time we'd all be together in this house...the home in which we've lived for nearly ten years. What a decade it's been.

I'm sitting here in our family room, on a couch that doesn't belong to me, listening to the movers tape padding around our furniture. Our dogs, Max and Dweezil, are curled up on the floor, resigned to whatever fate is theirs. They know something's up, but they haven't a clue what it might be. Dweezil is staying close to me, but he always did. Max isn't eating, and he seems pretty depressed. I wish they could understand my words when I assure them that we will soon all be together in our new place.

But then I realize that's only a partial truth. "All" means Glenn, me, Max and Dweezil. Jake will probably stay with us for awhile, most likely after he drives the dogs from Tucson to Alameda (after we build a couple of fences with gates to secure the backyard). But then he will return to Australia...Caleb will be in Nebraska for at least a year...and most likely our nuclear family-of-four will never live in the same house again.

Now I know that kids moving away and having their own lives is normal; we've already experienced that in a few different seasons -- Caleb going to college, then YWAM in Canada, then living on his own; Jake going to YWAM in Australia -- but too many changes are happening at once, and that's hard for me. I like my changes to come one at a time, thank you very much...much like I'd rather have a 10-course tasting menu than have all the plates in front of me...too overwhelming. I want to taste each one, process each bite and savor the flavor before the next plate comes along. OK, so I also love a good buffet, but at least then I get to choose how much to pile on my plate. :)

Apparently God has decided I can handle a plateful of changes. Or maybe not. Maybe He knows I *can't* handle it, so I have to press into Him for His strength to endure this season.

And that's the whole point, isn't it?

"I can do all things through Him who gives me strength." -- Phil 4:13

I Am the Problem

Quoting Donald Miller, from his book "Blue Like Jazz":

[A friend of Don's once asked him if he was capable of murder, rape and all the horrific stuff that was going on the Congo. He said "No."]

His friend then said, "I just want to know what makes those guys over there any different from you and me. They are human. We are human. Why are we any better than them, you know?"

Don writes, "If I answered his question by saying yes, I could commit those atrocities, that would make me evil, but if I answered no, it would suggest I believed I am better evolved than some of the men in the Congo. And then I would have some explaining to do."

Later in the book, after much thought and prayer about all of this, he writes:

"...I don't have to watch the evening news to see that the world is bad. I only have to look at myself. I am not browbeating myself here; I am only saying that true change, true life-giving, God-honoring change would have to start with the individual. I was the very problem I had been protesting. I wanted to make a sign that read, 'I AM THE PROBLEM.'"

Did I Ever Leave?

I'm experiencing the weird thing that happens when returning to a place where I lived for a long time...the feeling that I never really left. It's so crazy...obviously I have been gone from this area for more than 9 years, and A LOT has happened to and changed in me during that time. But driving around, everything feels so familiar. (Not to mention GREEN!!!) I am feeling incredibly nostalgic and wistful, ready to cry at the drop of a hat.

I drove by the places we lived from 1989-2001...so many memories. I went to the Little League field where Jake hit his first home run and remembered all the hours of baseball enjoyed there. And the sign with Jake's name on it is still hanging on the fence...he was part of the team that won the Division Championships in 2001. :)

I still don't know where we're going to land...it looks like we'll be subletting a place in The City for the month of May; that will be fun. I'll be looking for our "real" home during that time...the sooner I find it, the better! Because then I can relax and enjoy city life.

More to come as life unfolds.

What a Difference Nine Years Make!

It's all beginning to feel more real... the day after tomorrow, on Saturday morning, I will drive away from the life I have lived in Tucson for the past 9+ years.

I have felt compelled to stay completely invested here until the very end. The temptation to hide and just deal with the logistics of everything has been great; I must say I am so glad to have not given into that temptation. There have been such sweet and meaningful times with people I would not have wanted to miss -- coffees, breakfasts, lunches, dinners. It's not the food and drink ingested that will stay with me, of course...it's the love poured out and received, one to another...the tears, laughter, facial expressions and hugs that said it all.

I leave Tucson a very different woman from when I arrived here at the end of 2001. I know I'm loved, more than I have ever known this...loved by God and by humans. I have the best women friends I've ever had in my life, some of whom I "left behind" in CA and to whom I now return. Those friendships have blossomed and deepened even while I've been here, which tells me they are going to be lifelong relationships; I don't think I really knew that when I came to AZ, but it is such a blessing to know it as I move back to CA. The "new" friendships I have made here are solid and healthy, and some will also be lifelong (and some of them are no longer based in AZ! Ohio? Oregon? Who knew?!). Distance can't take away that kind of deep connection. Even as length of time stretches between phone calls and visits, it will be wonderful to be able to jump back in, right where we left off. I leave with no doubts about these friendships. This has been such a work of God, to heal the wounds from the past and to feel so comfortable around women, to really love them without reserve or clinginess...and to *trust* the love and friendship they bring to me. Those who've known me a long time will understand how huge this is for my soul. All that to say, "Hallelujah!"

I come back to CA having been a Worship Pastor, something I could only imagine 9 years ago. (And it had been a long 9-year wait before that!) I do not know if I will ever lead another worship ministry, but it was a joy and a privilege to have done so at Vineyard City Church. I loved my team; each person who served, for whatever length of time, brought something valuable to the ministry. I have so many wonderful memories...such good camaraderie among all the teams. I leave immensely grateful that we never had any "wars" -- our sound team, video team and band operated as one team, and we all loved and cared for each other. I'm sure much of that was sustained by the prayers of our faithful prayer team who we also loved!! I leave knowing the worship ministry is moving forward beautifully, and I'm excited to see what is going to unfold as the years go by. I was blessed and honored to co-lead worship this past Sunday. As I looked out at the congregation, I saw so many new faces, many familiar ones, too...and missed the ones who were no longer there. Mostly, as always, I loved hearing voices lifted and seeing hands raised in worship to our Lord. There isn't much else in life that brings me such pure joy -- singing and making music with others, all as an offering to God, and seeing others engage with our Lord in worship...can't get much better than that.

I leave AZ as an "empty nester" with my boys now young men of 23 and 20, with lives of their own. My concerns for them, as their mother, are different from when we moved here (when they were 14 and 11!) but the love is only deeper. I'm excited to see where their individual journeys take them.

I leave this big house that I have loved so much but I'm glad to be downsizing; less to tidy, less to deal with, less "stuff"...less will ultimately be more, especially with a puppy around. (Yeah, he turned a year old a couple of weeks ago, but Dweezil is still very much a puppy.) This has been a great house for gatherings...baptisms in our pool, yearly Oscar parties, weekly home group for 4 years, so many prayer times with beloved friends, worship band practice the first couple of years here, lots of wonderful dinners around the table, Thanksgivings and Christmases, and rolling out Pepparkakor dough on my big kitchen island. (Oh, I will miss that!) I hear the echoes of my boys bickering, and also giggling together. We have wept and rejoiced in this house, as a family, and with our extended family...and with our family of God, and I am so grateful for the time spent living and loving in its walls.

Last but certainly not least, I leave with the man I came with, which was nearly unthinkable a year ago. "Dance with the one who brung you," the old saying goes. I am delighted and grateful to be sharing this new chapter with Glenn.

All of the above makes me think of that old Steven Curtis Chapman song:

We'll travel over mountains so high

We'll go through valleys below
Still through it all we'll find that
This is the greatest journey

The human heart will ever see

The love of God will take us far

Beyond our wildest dreams

Saddle up your horses we've got a trail to blaze
Through the wild blue yonder of God's amazing grace
Let's follow our Leader into the glorious unknown
This is a life like no other - this is the great adventure...

(bridge and chorus from "The Great Adventure")

Happy trails, everyone.

What I *Think* I Know and Don't Know for Sure

Lots of questions being asked these days so here are the answers:

Our last day at Vineyard is this Sunday, March 27.

I'll be co-leading worship during the service (so blessed!!).

There is a farewell gathering Sunday from 1-3 at Marty Smith's house (all are welcome!).

We are leaving Tucson on April 2.

We will arrive in the Bay Area on April 3.

We leave for Australia on April 12.

We return from Australia on April 21.

That's what I know for sure.

Which means I don't know:

Where we'll live before we officially move (probably a furnished apt. for a month or so).

When we will officially move (probably June).

Where we'll live once we officially move (we hope Alameda).

Of course, all of the above could change at a moment's notice. Our plans have changed so many times, I am barely keeping it all straight. More than ever I know this for sure:

"Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to an all-knowing God." -- Corrie Ten Boom

The Healing Hand of God

Over the past couple of years, one of my relationships -- a key one -- had turned sour. There were conflicts and misunderstandings so deep and painful that a few months ago we went to a counseling session to try to sort it out. I wasn't sure at the end of that evening if any real progress had been made. A lot of harsh things were said on both sides, some quite ugly. I was counseled -- not by my counselor, but by an associate pastor in town -- to "wash my hands" of the situation and move on with my life.

But that didn't sit right with me. I had too much history with this person and their family. This was a bridge I didn't want to burn because to do so would also mean burning bridges with my church family, and I couldn't do that. But everything was messy and complicated and confusing.

So I prayed. A lot. And others prayed for me. A lot.

Slowly God made things clear. Forgive....completely and totally. Total Forgiveness by R. T. Kendall was an enormous help. (Thanks, Chrissy, for recommending it!) It explained in a fresh way what forgiveness is and what it isn't. The biggest nugget I took away from the book was that real forgiveness always involves some amount of suffering and sacrifice. I was suffering already, but did I want to make the sacrifice which might cause me to feel even greater suffering? To really let go of my pride and my need to be right? To not be able to hash through the minutiae of everything and come to some kind of resolution? In the past, I would have called that "sweeping things under the rug" which my family of origin did far too often. But I came to see that sometimes sweeping isn't unhealthy, as long as I sweep it all into the hands of God...sweep the mess to the foot of the cross and let it go. What I needed to "wash my hands of" wasn't the person or the relationship, but the hurt and pain caused therein. And to forgive the wrongs done to me and my family...and to know I was completely forgiven by God for the wrongs I had done (which were many), even if they couldn't forgive me and the relationship couldn't be reconciled. To do this required much weeping; much letting go and with NO guarantee of change...no guarantee that the relationship would be healed. But what was guaranteed was that *I* would come away changed, healed of bitterness and resentment, and be closer to God and conformed more closely to the image of His Son. That's what I want...always. More than anything. So it was a choice to press in. And to let go.

Rereading Hinds Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard (the last time I read it was 27 years ago!) reminded me that the journey up the mountain requires traveling with the companions of Sorrow and Suffering...and a winding path which often doesn't make sense...and a deep trust that joy will come after mourning.

God, in His infinite kindness and mercy, provided some situations where I was able to reach out in love to this person and their family. At the Christmas Eve service I felt the years of pain begin to wash away as I cried and remembered all the love and care, working hard together and sharing fun times; there were a lot of good memories. I didn't want my 9+ years here in Tucson to be defined by the worst season...I didn't want my relationship with this person and their family to be defined by the worst things we said and did. So God began to provide some new memories -- a smile here, a hug there, a little chat now and then. Slowly the Lord lifted me out of the mire and put my feet on a rock and a new song in my heart. And I knew that I wanted to leave Tucson with my heart full of love for this person.

All I can say is GOD DID IT! and beyond what I could ask for or imagine. Not only has there been forgiveness on my side, but on theirs. Even with the harsh things I said out of hurt and anger, they were able to forgive me and move toward me to reconcile. It hit me yesterday when we were sharing a piece of pie and drinking our iced mochas (their treat!), that I was in the midst of Kingdom work. Jesus had done something big...two people with a lot of wounds (both of us have family histories of abandonment) were able to come together and hold hands for a minute and say, "We're OK." And talk about good times...and the future. To express compassion for hard things we've been going through. And I knew in those moments that it wasn't about sweeping anything under the rug -- it was that we had each made a choice to move forward because of the love of Christ and our love for one another.

Honestly, I've never experienced this before...not with pain that deep, and certainly not with my family of origin. When things get/got ugly and too painful, my family's "M.O." is to abandon, to cut people off, to turn their backs and to blame, blame, blame. To have this person sit before me and tell me, "We're fine" and mean it was one of the most healing moments ever.

What I haven't shared yet, is this coffee time came on the heels of this person and me taking Communion together on Sunday...which may have been the best moment of all. To pray for one another and share the body and blood of Christ together was incredibly powerful. No sin is too great for God to forgive. And because of that, no sin is too great for us to forgive, if we do it through Jesus and not on our own strength. To hear them say to me, "Nina, you are family, you will always be family" was a healing balm that went straight to the core of the pain I carry, not having a "real" family who is willing/able to deal with the messiness of life.

And family sure as heck can be messy. And really painful. Words turn ugly. Anger spews forth like venom. But in a good family, a family who is committed to loving one another no matter what, forgiveness comes. Nothing makes you "not family"...EVER. As I said, I don't have that experience in my "natural" family. But the Lord has given me that gift in HIS Family. And these recent experiences have planted something very deep in my soul that I will carry with me into the next chapter of my life, wherever that takes me.

"I have seen the healing hand of God

Reaching out and mending broken hearts

Taste and see the fullness of His peace

And hold on to what's being held out

The healing hand of God."

-Jeremy Camp

(You can hear the song HERE.)

Leaping, er, Crawling over a Wall

Yard sale accomplished.

David says in the Psalms that with God he can leap over any wall. I'm just glad to have crawled over mine, with the help of some very wonderful women who busted their butts to help me this past weekend. I will be forever grateful for their love, laughter, prayers, support and hard work to help make this weekend more-than-tolerable, and successful, too!

One wall down, another one follows close behind...the aftermath. Packing up what didn't sell. Posting the bigger ticket items on craigslist, and praying they sell. And of course, packing up what we're keeping in order to move. Thankfully another wonderful woman is coming to my aid this week...for an entire week...to help me get over that wall.

The Lord does indeed give us what we need to conquer our mountains, and often it's through His people. Could I have done this on my own? I really don't think so. I'm glad I didn't have to find out.

So today as I head out to worship with my church family for one of the last times, my heart is full of thanksgiving for those He sent to help me. I might not be able to *leap* over my walls at the moment, but maybe a little leap of joy will be possible.

"For by You I can run upon a troop; and by my God I can leap over a wall." - Psalm 18:29

Welcome to Limboland (May I Put You on Hold?)

A friend just commented that I haven't in, out or updated this blog in awhile.

Indeed; I've fallen into Limboland and I can't get up. In other words, I'm in the middle of getting ready to move. We're just about to round the 2nd turn; the homestretch seems far ahead.

The movers come on April 1 (no fooling)...that's 24 days from today. And we still don't have a place to live in CA. Between now and then I will undoubtedly vacillate between calm and panic; and yes, I mean more than usual. I'm not sure a menopausal woman should ever be put in charge of moving, but c'est la vie. Fortunately, I have good friends who put up with me, and you know who you are. :)

So until I up/out/in-undate you all again, please pray for me to persevere, endure, keep my eyes on Jesus, and not eat too much ice cream.

:)

Face to Face with Myself

In my last entry, I mentioned a time when I was writing songs, doing local concerts (coffeehouses, mostly), making demo tapes and thinking about pursuing a career in the music biz. That was 30 years ago and for the most part was a distant memory.

Until tonight.

I was going through my music books, deciding what to sell and what to keep, when I opened up my piano bench for the first time in years and came face-to-face with my 19-year-old self. What I unearthed made me weep -- pages and pages of songs I'd written in college, the lyrics typed on a *typewriter* no less, and with no chords. (I even found a few pieces of paper and a notebook with handwritten lyrics.) Ah, the arrogance of youth, assuming I'd remember how to play them forever. But maybe the young Nina was right; as I read through the lyrics, most of the melodies came flooding back, and since I only knew a handful of chords back then (now it's maybe 2-3 handfuls), I could probably figure them out if I had any time to do so.

Geez, I was prolific. Note I didn't say "good." But at least I was writing...A LOT. And a few of the songs are actually decent. I exercised that muscle once this past year, and it felt really good to write again...to wrestle with words so that they made sense lyrically and melodically. I love the process. It had been five years. And before that, five more years. Life just kept getting in the way.

I remember about 16ish years ago, a singer-songwriter-musician friend of mine prayed over me, blessing the songwriter God had made me to be. Somehow I lost touch with that part of myself; but Tom's words were ringing in my ears tonight -- God has made me a songwriter. The gift/talent/skill has been lying dormant. I'm glad it bubbled up a few months ago. I pray it bubbles up again soon, and continues to flow for the rest of my life.

Even if my songs never go anywhere except to God's ears, that will be enough. I just need to write.

Face to Face with My Hero

I was about 12 feet from the stage. I could see the veins in her hands and the crow's feet around her eyes. (She is, after all, 50 years old now...just 9 months older than me.) I've never been so close to her in my life.

The first time I saw her in concert was 30 years ago. I had all *three* of her albums on both vinyl and cassette, and she was "it." I was 19, she was 20, and I wanted to be her; I wanted her life of singing, writing songs, sharing my heart from the stage and touring the world. A few people told me they thought I could be "next" and after doing a few local concerts, I started to think maybe that life was possible. I recorded a couple of demo tapes in college, with plans to send them off to some of the record companies in the burgeoning Christian music biz. One time a talent scout for one of those companies heard me sing and gave me his name and number, telling me to send him my tape. But I got cold feet. Or maybe God just had other plans for me and took my life in a different direction...far less performing and more worship leading.

Through the years, I became increasingly glad I didn't have her life. As her career grew and she became the most popular Christian recording artist of all time, and eventually "crossed over" into the pop world, she had many fingers pointing at her...not Christian enough for the church; too Christian for the world. Her failings were splashed all over the internet; her divorce was fodder for all sorts of gossip. Christian radio pulled her music for awhile. Nashville was abuzz when one of their most awarded country music stars became her new husband.

No thanks, I didn't want that life.

But I still loved her music and her heart; still bought every CD (or downloaded them on iTunes); watched every interview I heard about; went to as many concerts as I could. Moving to Tucson made it harder to see her perform as she, like most artists, only came to Phoenix and it was often not feasible to attend a Saturday evening show two hours away when I needed to be up and at 'em early for Sunday morning worship leading.

But this past Saturday night I was able to see her in concert after 8 long years (tickets were a Christmas gift from Glenn!). She's touring with one of her best friends, the man who got his start as her keyboard player, Michael W. Smith. Last time I'd seen them together was 20 years ago.

Several months ago, I waxed poetic on this blog about two other "old friends" I saw in concert. Carole King and James Taylor most assuredly were foundational musical influences for me and seeing them in concert (twice!) gave me memories I will treasure always. But Saturday night's experience was different...deeper...as it connected me not only with my musical history but with my history with Jesus.

I've been walking with the Lord for 31 years; Amy Grant has been my hero for about 30 of them. She was always so real on stage, making mistakes (it happened at this concert, too!), laughing at herself, sharing stories of her clumsy youth. She had curly hair with a widow's peak and was teased mercilessly in school. She got her start playing little songs in D on the guitar. Sound familiar? Every time I heard her speak, I was astounded at how our lives were so similar. She had her kids around the same time I had mine. Her stories of parenting made me laugh. Later, the poignancy and depth of the questions of her shattered heart made me cry. And her "come back" made me cheer. Her music has been the soundtrack to my life.

Ultimately, she's my hero because she has handled the messes in her life with exceptional grace, hanging onto Jesus through it all and continuing to speak and live out a message of love and compassion. And I just love her voice...have loved it in all its stages. I owe it to her that I found the "sweet spot" of my lower register as I learned to belt along with her "new" voice that seemed to emerge around her 5th album; I remember wearing out that tape trying to figure out how to growl the same way she did! (She has since dropped the growl, though there were some songs at the concert where I kind of missed it.)

So here I was within spitting distance of this woman I have admired from afar for so long and I felt so many things. For a few minutes I had those old pangs of wanting to headline a show like that, just for a moment...then I had familiar pangs of wanting to sing with her (I can still dream...I never thought I'd sing with Randy Stonehill, and that happened TWICE! Three times, if you count the house concert!) But mostly I just reveled in the moments as they unfolded -- laughing, smiling, crying, worshiping, dancing my butt off and singing my guts out. I loved seeing how she has come full circle, no longer needing to hide any part of herself, obviously comfortable in her own skin...sharing her faith openly, and still joyfully jumping around with some energy to the pop songs. (Though I must say that Carole King, at age 68, exhibited more energy than Amy & MWS combined!)

MWS was wonderful, too; one of the highlights was his piano instrumental -- the pure joy that came over his face as he played moved me to tears. He also led us in worship, which was glorious, with the main concert (before the encores) ending with Amy and Michael leading us in "Agnus Dei," the crowd on their feet, hands raised, singing the melody MWS penned so long ago (words taken from Revelation) which Amy recorded on her first Christmas album in the mid-Eighties and Third Day made into a hit about 10 years ago so it is now sung all over the world...

Alleluia! Alleluia!

For the Lord God Almighty reigns.

Alleluia! Alleluia!

For the Lord God Almighty reigns.

Alleluia!

Holy, holy are You, Lord God Almighty

Worthy is the Lamb, worthy is the Lamb

Amen.

Amazing how something so simple can be so powerful. I could have sworn the roof was blown off.

The first encore was the iconic "Friends"...and they sang it with their backs together. I loved the symbolism...they have each other's back. They've had each other's back for 28 years, through the ups and downs of life...through all the changes...

Friends are friends forever

If the Lord's the Lord of them

And a friend will not say, "Never"

For the welcome will not end...

I didn't think the night could get any better. But then...

Final song. Everyone on their feet, dancing and singing along to a rousing rendition of the old Jackie DeShannon song, "Put a Little Love in Your Heart." Amy came to the edge of the stage, and I made eye contact with her as I was dancing to the music. And she smiled at me. (Glenn saw it happen, too...it wasn't my imagination!)

My hero smiled at me. I'm still savoring that moment.

I still want to sing with her some day, but for now, that smile will suffice.

Just Call Me Linus

About a month ago, I was at a Brookstone store and found a blanket that was probably the softest thing I'd felt in a long, long time. I'm a very tactile person who loves the feel of different textures, especially soft, cuddly ones. I am a pillow hugger -- just ask my counselor...I walk into her office, plop on the couch and grab a pillow to hug every single time -- and at 49 years of age I am not ashamed to say I have a stuffed lamb that I hold tightly in times of emotional pain, crisis and/or when I'm praying about hard stuff.

Agnus Dei, qui tolis peccata mundi, miserere nobis...dona nobis pacem.

Anyway, the blanket at Brookstone was dark brown and as soon as I put my fingers on it, I had the most visceral memory of being about five years old and rubbing my hands up and down my mother's full-length sable coat. I almost burst into tears. I kept rubbing the fabric, maybe subconsciously hoping a genie would appear and solve everything. I left the store without buying the blanket (a bit pricey for the budget at the moment) and made a mental note to put it on my birthday list (August 30, fyi).

Fast forward to now...I've been having some wonderful talks with my father-in-law, Harv (aka Pop) over the past couple of days. (I'm at my in-laws' house for 10 days to help out during my mother-in-law's recovery from knee replacement surgery; she comes home from the hospital tomorrow...hurray!) Somewhere in the midst, I told Pop the story about the blanket. We were at a mall today (he took me to a lovely lunch at Nordstrom's!) and he says, "Ann and I have a tradition that before we leave this mall we always have to go take a look at Brookstone." I said, "Great! That means I can probably touch that blanket again!" without thinking for a minute that this was some kind of ruse. After all, Brookstone is a very cool store, and they always have new and interesting things to look at.

So we go into the store, and I make a beeline for that blanket. "There it is!" And it was the same as before...dark brown, soft as sable, and made me think of my mother, who hasn't spoken to me (nor I to her) in over five years. (Long, painful story.) Pop asked the clerk how much they cost, and I sighed wistfully and said "I need to put this on my birthday list" and the next thing I know, he's picked one up and tells me he's going to get me an early birthday present. I was so overwhelmed by his kindness; never one to be shy about expressing myself, I threw my arms around him and kissed him right in the middle of the store. It was only later, at the hospital when I was recounting all of this to Ann (aka Mom), that Pop fessed up and told me he'd been plotting this as soon as I'd told him the story.

I love surprises (good ones, anyway). I am so grateful for what Pop did; I feel delighted, blessed, and really loved. And also a bit trepidatious, because I know what I know, and I can't not know it: some hard inner work lies ahead for me with that blanket. I'm going to have to hold onto it tightly while it brings up stuff I'm not sure I'm quite ready to deal with. However, God's timing is always impeccable, and I trust Him. And I will wait. (See previous blog post.)

But I need to say this, and I have a lump in my throat as I do:

I miss my mother.

(to be continued...)

I'm Nina and I'll be Your Wait-er...

I had a complete breakdown at the end of church yesterday. (Grateful it's the kind of place where one can sob and no one thinks anything of it...in the best sense). Grabbed a trustworthy, kindred soul to pray for me. Her words were so life-giving...I cried even harder. In the midst of pain, love pierced the heart and brought even more tears. Cleansing. Freeing.

We really do need each other, to speak those "words in season," be they soft or tough. Yesterday seemed to be a time for soft...ointment to my soul...affirming who God made me to be, rekindling the longings of my heart and beginning to stir vision for the future.

Then today, in Beth Moore's study on Esther, I came upon this question: "Has a negative event or a near-eternal wait made you lose hope about something important to you? Do you have any natural reasons to think that whatever your 'once upon a time' might have been, it can never be now?" I wrote "*gulp*" in response.

But I've been here before; I know the drill. Wait. Stay present. Wait. Lament. Wait. Trust. Wait. Long. Wait. Rest. Wait. Wait. Wait...

"Those that wait [hope, trust] on the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint." -Isaiah 40:31

Best Veggie Dish Ever!

Made this for dinner tonight; it's now my favorite thing! I used sweet potatoes instead of regular ones; the spices go beautifully with the sweetness.

Indian Spiced Cauliflower and Potatoes
1 (1 3/4-lb) head cauliflower, cut into 3/4-inch-wide florets
1 1/4 lb Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cut into 1/2-inch cubes
5 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided
1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds
3/4 teaspoon salt, divided
1 medium onion, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
2 teaspoons minced fresh jalapeño, including seeds
2 teaspoons minced peeled fresh ginger
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/4 teaspoon turmeric
1/4 teaspoon cayenne
1/2 cup water

Put oven rack in upper third of oven and place a shallow baking pan on rack. Heat oven to 475°F.

Toss cauliflower and potatoes together in a bowl with 3 tablespoons oil, cumin seeds, and 1/4 teaspoon salt. Spread in hot baking pan and roast, stirring occasionally, until cauliflower is tender and browned in spots and potatoes are just tender, about 20 minutes.

While vegetables are roasting, cook onion, garlic, jalapeño, and ginger in remaining 2 tablespoons oil in a 12-inch heavy skillet over moderate heat, stirring frequently, until very soft and beginning to turn golden, 8 to 10 minutes. Add ground cumin, coriander, turmeric, cayenne, and remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt and cook, stirring constantly, 2 minutes. Stir in water, scraping up any brown bits from bottom of skillet, then stir in roasted vegetables. Cook, covered, stirring occasionally, 5 minutes.

D'accord...

A view from Great Brittain:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/northamerica/usa/us-politics/8262152/Gabrielle-Giffords-shooting-Why-it-is-time-to-change-gun-laws.html

Well done!

Stepping over Our Wounds

"Sometimes we have to "step over" our anger, our jealousy, or our feelings of rejection and move on. The temptation is to get stuck in our negative emotions, poking around in them as if we belong there. Then we become the "offended one," "the forgotten one," or the "discarded one." Yes, we can get attached to these negative identities and even take morbid pleasure in them. It might be good to have a look at these dark feelings and explore where they come from, but there comes a moment to step over them, leave them behind and travel on." --Henri Nouwen

Definitely part of the upward/outward/inward journey. Feel the feelings, process, then let go. Easier said than done, though. Some things require a lifetime of daily surrender. But that's OK. After all, His mercies are new every morning.

Thoughts: the Afternoon After

"... if My people, who are called by My name, will humble themselves and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land." -- 2 Chronicles 7:14

This morning's service at Vineyard City Church was different from last night at Pantano, but equally compelling. I very much appreciate how our pastor, Gary Stokes, spoke directly to our hearts and our lives about how the church at large has contributed to the atmosphere of hatred and violence in this nation. People say all kinds of things in the name of Jesus...and it has to stop. Opinion is fine, but verbal attacks on individuals and groups must come to an end. We've got to find a way to be bold without hatred; firm in our stances while also listening and coming alongside others.

I also love how he boldly reminded us that the ONLY government that matters (and can do anything about the world's problems) is the Kingdom which is ruled by a King who wasn't elected. And following THAT King is what is going to heal our land. Those of us who are Jesus-followers need to put His Kingdom first, and be in the world and not of it.

How do we do this? One way is by how we forgive others. I just finished reading "Total Forgiveness" by R.T. Kendall, and he said that Christians need first and foremost to practice complete forgiveness, and THAT is what is going to draw people to Jesus. That's the main way we can show love to one another... by forgiving offenses, not seeking vengeance (and that is often a heart thing), and trusting God for HIS justice in HIS timing. Far easier to forgive someone for hurting our feelings than for shooting someone dead...but who said following Jesus was supposed to be easy?

This is NOT that we turn a blind eye to sin, injustice, violence, etc. NOT AT ALL. But it does mean we approach it in a different way. Here's an example:

Yesterday John McCain declared Jared Loughner (the shooter; he does have a name) "a disgrace to Arizona, this country and the human race, and [deserves] and will receive the contempt of all decent people." Really? Well I've got some news for Sen. McCain. Jared Loughner is receiving prayers from Christians all over the world who know they are capable of any sin at any time...and that Jesus would want Jared and his family to come to know Him...to not be discarded as waste. People are weeping over ALL that happened yesterday, including the grief Jared's family must be going through. It's wonderful rhetoric, Senator McCain, to stir people to contempt, but what you fail to realize is that it ONLY ADDS TO THE PROBLEM. Let's hate the shooter. Let's hate anyone who commits crime. Let's hate anyone who kills someone. Let's hate them enough to kill them, too. When does it end?

Do we feel these things?? OF COURSE! I appreciated Gary's honesty in expressing how angry he felt while listening to the rhetoric on the radio yesterday. FEELING outrage, anger, the longing for justice, etc. is fine. Expressing it to God is not only good, it's necessary. (Has anyone read the Psalms where David cries out for all manner of vengeance? Hello?) But it is a far, far different thing to put that hatred "out there" on the airwaves, on the internet. Are we spreading our anger and hatred, or are we spreading concern and compassion? Are we asking how we can help? Or are we just spewing more poison into the mix?

I've seen "friends" on Facebook say horrible things to each other, all in the name of Jesus. The quest for holiness and righteousness CANNOT have any hatred attached to it. That's a complete oxymoron. "Let me spew hate at you so you will become more righteous like me." I don't think so.

But we do it all the time, in various ways and to varying degrees...don't we? Church, in my opinion, it's time for us to once again look in the mirror and deal with the plank sticking out of our eye.

Forgive us, Father, for we know not what we do. I would add to that, please show us what we do so we can repent and turn from our wicked ways.

Ramblings at the End of a Day of (Local) Tragedy

"All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us." - 2Cor. 1:3-4

The eyes of the nation, and perhaps the world, are on Tucson today. Our city experienced what far-too-many cities across this land have experienced in recent years -- a kid with a gun, firing into a crowd, killing and wounding too many people. (One is too many.)

The internet was filled with false reporting (including CNN and MSNBC); I was thankful for a local station that ran live, streaming, *accurate* coverage. I was able to breathe a bit easier when KOLD confirmed Congressman Gabrielle Giffords (known affectionately in these parts as "Gabby") was NOT dead, had survived her surgery, and that the docs were "optimistic about her recovery." A bullet through the brain...one has to wonder what kind of recovery there will be...nonetheless, it was good news for the moment and I think the entire city exhaled at the same time.

Relief only lasted a moment, though. A 9-year-old child was one of the dead...one of the six (so far) whose lives ended today. Unimaginable grief for those parents...and for all the families who lost a loved one today. There are no words.

I went to church tonight; I knew I needed to worship the God of all comfort, who is grieving with us, and I wanted to worship in community. Pantano Christian Church's service this evening couldn't have been more appropriate. A big shout-out to them for switching up the service, scrapping the original plans, and allowing a central place for what was on everyone's minds anyway. The Senior Pastor, Glen Elliot, shared from the Word and his heart on 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 (see above). We who have received such comfort from God, need to be comfort to our community; sometimes that will mean just listening and giving a hug. Other times it will mean sharing deeply from our hearts. God will show each of us how to be a comfort to people in our city.

The extended time of prayer was powerful. Glen invited us to take whatever posture would help us draw close to the Lord; I had one of the front pews all to myself, so I laid face-down on it as Glen led us to pray for different situations. I loved that it wasn't just us agreeing with whatever he prayed; he would mention something and then give us time to pour out our hearts to God. We prayed for those clinging to life; we prayed for the families who had lost loved ones; we prayed for Gabby; we prayed for our city. And then it got gutsy --we prayed for the family of the shooter, and for the shooter himself. I wanted to shout "Amen and hallelujah" because the perpetrators of crime and their families are often forgotten in prayer times like this. I remember reading an interview of the parents of one of the Columbine shooters and they went through hell; they were shunned by their community and very few people reached out to them. But Jesus died for ALL. Jesus is reaching out His hand to ALL involved today. I loved the heart of God expressed by Pastor Glen tonight. Many of us were crying; I loved the heart of God expressed by the body tonight.

The worship time was spot-on. God is worthy of our worship even in the midst of tragedy. To sing "How Great Thou Art" tonight was amazing. Then we sang "He knows my name/He knows my every thought/He sees each tear that falls/And hears me when I call." And then the following:

The Stand

You stood before creation
Eternity in your hand
You spoke the earth into motion
My soul now to stand

You stood before my failure
And carried the cross for my shame
My sin weighed upon Your shoulders
My soul now to stand

So what could I say?
And what could I do?
But offer this heart, O God
Completely to You

So I'll walk upon salvation
Your spirit alive in me
This life to declare Your promise
My soul now to stand

So what could I say?
And what could I do?
But offer this heart, O God
Completely to You

I'll stand with arms high and heart abandoned
In awe of the One who gave it all
I'll stand, my soul, Lord, to You surrendered

All I am is Yours

(Hear it at www.youtube.com/watch?v=cAQ61KH7qRc)

I was undone. To hear everyone's voices around me with arms raised and tears falling...it was an incredibly moving time of worship.

But wait, there's more. Before Communion, Glen told us that one of the fallen today was a man who had jumped in front of his wife as the shots rang out. The couple was coming out of the Safeway, and the husband did what any man would/should do...and now he is with Jesus and his wife is alive, wounded, but alive. There was a collective gasp in the room as Glen told how this man of God had given his life for his wife; what a poignant way to introduce Communion.

I drove home with both a heavier and a lighter heart. Ah, the both-andness of things. Again. Always.

I have all sorts of other thoughts swirling around my brain -- gun control, for instance... and how every day is a "day of tragedy" somewhere; it just hits harder when it's closer to home -- but I will save those for another time.

I head to bed with heart abandoned, soul surrendered, in awe of the God of all comfort, and praying for those in Tucson who need that comfort the most.