Coincidence?

Last week, I encountered two people whose life’s work and passion had a profound impact on me.

First, I found an author who writes about the things that matter most to me. Her writing style flows with ease, and she intersperses scriptures with enlightened meaning in ways that anyone can understand. I bought three of her books and found her to have a fascinating ability to reach into the depths of my heart.  I guess she is well-known, although I had never heard of her before. Thank you June Hunt for impacting my life so much already. I want to write like you so that my words penetrate the hearts of my readers. You have given me such a remarkable example to follow.

Then, just two days later, I encountered an amazing woman of God who has the mantle of a healing anointing upon her. She and her team, through the power of the Holy Spirit, healed over a hundred women at a conference I was attending. I, too, was blessed with a healing from chronic pain that I have lived with for over fifty years caused by various injuries along the way. Just like that! Gone, in the name of Jesus! Hallelujah! Let me tell you, going from chronic pain to no pain is truly a life-altering event!

Her name?  Joan Hunter.

Now, is it a coincidence that June Hunt and Joan Hunter both entered my life within a 48-hour period and created such an overwhelming impact that I can hardly contain it?

I don’t think so. I believe that it was no accident that these two ladies with almost the same name came to me at the same time because God is about to jumpstart the next phase of my journey.

I am ready! I am grateful, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt it was a God-incidence that I was allowed to experience the passions of these two amazing ladies almost at the same time.

No, it was definitely not a fluke or an accident. Rather, this is the affirmation of Godly orchestration of purpose and growth for my life. For that, I am ever blessed!

Buried Baggage

            Today, I sit in awe of God’s majesty and how He continues to bless in spite of my shortcomings. I am currently doing purpose work through a mentoring course, and my focus has been on me for several weeks.

Frankly, I don’t like it.

Through this process, I am forced to reckon with the parts of me that I don’t want to be. I usually gloss over the deep, hidden barriers that I have buried under mounds of course-corrections, hoping that my Godly goals will cover over the junk that is, nevertheless, still there.

I know it doesn’t work that way, but yet, that is what I have been doing for a very long time. Far, far too long.

It seems to me that I have trouble finding the line between recognizing my sin in order to confess it so that I may move on; and wallowing in the mire of my faults and shortcomings. There is a very subtle boundary here, and typically when I begin processing my desire to dig up the buried garbage, I quickly feel defeated and so very unworthy of His time and love.

The truth is—I am unworthy. I always will be when I come with just myself.

The other, and way bigger truth, is—Jesus made me worthy. Because of Him living in me, I am no longer unworthy. This is what being free means.

So, here I sit, knowing I still have buried garbage that needs addressed, and not wanting to go through the effort of stripping away yet another layer of sin to pin to the cross. It is a painful process. I don’t want to admit that I haven’t fixed these areas of my life yet.

I wanted to believe that burying them would be enough to let me forget them. Out of sight, out of mind, right? 

Nope.

Now I see that unless I allow the blood of Christ to remove them completely—to be fully washed away—they will eventually spring to the surface in the ugliest of ways.

I also am learning that when they bubble up to the surface, they are even more abhorrent with the decay and rot of the burial I so carefully devised.

Today, I am allowing the Holy Spirit to dig up the garbage that I have wanted to stay buried at rest. I want to reckon with the reality that these things hold no power over me any longer, and I release them. I am trusting that I am now cleansed and made whole by letting go of the buried baggage.

It is amazingly freeing to know it is this simple.

Whirlwind Day

Today has been a whirlwind of life-altering events around me. A famous band member committed suicide; a notorious murderer and thief was paroled; a high school friend’s infant grandson passed away; an even closer friend’s adult son has relapsed into drug abuse for the umpteenth time; and my daughter was just offered the job of a lifetime after being out of work since she had been laid off after her maternity leave ended over a year ago.

I am so happy for my daughter. While she has not had any college coursework to prepare her for this position in marketing and PR for her city of residence, she does have some solid experiences from her previous job that will serve her well, indeed.

Years ago when she told me her plans to pursue her Master’s in Creative Writing, I wondered how she would ever make a living with that degree. I think it’s the “creative” part that landed her this position.  I know she will have a huge learning curve ahead of her, but I also know she is up for the challenge.  Needless to say, I am so very proud of her.

I’m sure she’s worried about going back to working motherhood again, now with two littles at home, but this job is only about a ten minute drive away (rather than the grueling hour plus she endured in her previous job during rush hour to get in and out of the city). That alone makes this new offer so appealing.  

I am so happy for her, but I am rather shocked at the array of splashed emotions on my heart this day.

It makes me feel like I just need to take a deep breath and exhale. Twenty times.

Couldn't Ask For More

For some reason, the decision-makers in public education have decided that every child needs to be prepared for college or a career. In theory, this sounds really good. However, the reality is that some people have no desire for college or a professional career. And frankly, I’m glad.

While out for my morning walk today, I was watching the guy driving the refuse truck around my neighborhood. There were so many gadgets and buttons and bells and whistles on that truck that I wondered how anyone could properly learn to operate it. There were also two steering wheels so that the guy could drive right by the curb and not have to waste time walking around the massive machine. I paused, in awe of his skills.

I know those kids in school who would love to drive a giant truck every day. They are the ones fiddling with erasers and small objects while the teacher is yammering away. The ones who don’t understand why it matters what the author’s intent was or why they actually have to write entire paragraphs about it. Give them a project to do with their hands— they are engaged, enthralled, and saying, “more of this, please!” Ask them to put their thoughts on paper, and it is as though we told them to write it in flawless Chinese.

Years ago, we used to have apprentice opportunities for kids who did not want to choose a more academic path. I don’t know why we decided this way is better, although I hear, thankfully, that the pendulum is starting to swing back.

The skills that garbage pick-up guy had were amazing to me because I have none of them. I want him to know how to do his job and do it well. I want him to know how grateful I am to him for learning how to operate huge machinery and handle the aspects of his work. There is much planning involved – where to stop to be the most efficient; which garbage is in the correct can for the mechanical arm to lift; which cans need to be physically handled; how to deal with the geography and the weather.  It really is a huge skill set.

Yet, if I asked this guy about his experiences in school, I would wager he would have many negative memories to share. I imagine he still harbors feelings of failure and unworthiness.  It breaks my heart to even think about it. The reality is, he wasn’t the failure. They system failed him.

Why are we not celebrating the uniqueness of every person?  I am so thankful that my trash guy chose his occupation. Each week when I bring my trash cans back into the garage, I am beyond appreciative that someone took the time and effort to get rid of all of that yuck for me.  Watching him drive that massive truck with all of those knobs and levers made me feel inadequate and very small.  I bet, however, he wouldn’t believe it if I told him.

We have a long ways to go before we figure out how to make the trash guys and the nurses’ aides and the road workers and all of those other very skilled people how valuable they are.

Today, I celebrate those that have the skill sets that I am lacking, yet make my life so much better. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!  I really don’t care if you can put a sentence on paper or not. I do care that you have found a trade that fits for you and you do it well to make a difference in the lives of others. We couldn’t ask for more!

Praying to be in Prayer

I have nothing on the calendar scheduled for today. That, in itself, is unusual. I am grateful for time to breathe and just move as I choose. Yet, something inside still feels unsettled. It’s as though I am forgetting something really important—some divine appointment that I am missing because I am sitting at my computer instead of elsewhere. I have no idea where else I should be.

Nothing is really wrong, and still I have this inner sense of unsettledness. It isn’t about doing something or not doing something, it is more of an unrest.

Then I remember. I am called to be an intercessor.

Some days (actually it is usually in the middle of the night) I am asked to pray for someone I have never met or even heard of before. Other days, images of friends and acquaintances will pass through my thoughts, and I have to jar myself into remembrance to pray.

Today is one of those days.

I have been having trouble lately staying focused in prayer. Between my blind husband and his highly energetic guide dog breaking my concentration, I still have plenty of my own scattered thoughts that continually interrupt.

I am trusting that my sporadic moments of prayer will release the Kingdom power needed to move Heaven to Earth, yet, I am overwhelmed with my own inadequacy.

I think I may need prayer to be in prayer.

Papa, I don’t know why You have chosen me to be a vessel for Your work. I am so honored to partner with Jesus in bringing His Kingdom here to my little neck of the woods, and yet, I am doing all that I know how to do to shove away my negative thoughts and limiting beliefs about my role as Your Princess Warrior. I am grateful that You have brought me to this place, and I am expecting to see mighty signs, miracles, and wonders because of what Jesus accomplished on the cross. I know You want Your power to move ahead of us, and I am straining for the finish line to be able to say I finished the race. But I don’t want to just finish, I want to bring others with me across the line in amazing glory. Thank You for open eyes to see and ears to hear. Amen!

Almost Scammed

I almost fell victim to a scam yesterday. I am feeling rather mad at myself for being so naïve and gullible, but this scammer knew what he was doing.  I am assuming it was a man, but it might not have been.  For ease in writing, I will use the masculine, however, I am aware it could have just as easily been a woman.

First he sent me a private message that appeared to come from my Christian mentor. I am taking an eight-month course with her, and she is so very in tune with the spirit. I am hoping to learn much from her.

The first message said that the Lord had laid some scriptures on her heart that she wanted to share with me, if I had the time. She also said she only had a few minutes, which of course made sense to me because she is quite a busy lady.  Here is the copied post:

God bless you..Am really busy but the lord said i should speak to you he says good things are coming your way and he gave me some bible passages to share with you just few minutes may i?

I should have realized something was up with the poor grammar and Lord not being capitalized.

I agreed, and so this post came next: 

The light of God will not depart from your life....The scripture says in Philippians 1:6, “He that began a good work in you will continue to perform it until it’s complete.” The good news is, you’re not a finished product. God is still working on you.

 

The next post:  hold on the words of God and he will Prosper you. "Behold i am the Lord,The God of all Flesh; Is there anything too hard for me to do? Jeremiah 32:27 .Where are you from, How old are you,What is your occupation?I will Pray for you,for your blessings are so near you...

I stupidly answered all of the questions, but of course a google search would turn up my email and my cell number, and the rest of my information. My hometown and occupation are written on the back of every one of my published books. Even still, I feel quite violated having just naively handing over this to such an evil person

Then this came:  God is opening the windows of heaven for you. He meets your every need according to His riches in glory by Jesus Christ. He is causing men to give unto you good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over. God has given you the power to get wealth. you are redeemed by the Blood of the Lord Jesus Christ.you are redeemed from the curse of the law. you are blessed in the field.

I mentioned that I was attending a conference from her organization in a few weeks and that went ignored.

Deuteronomy 31:6 - Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the LORD thy God, he [it is] that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.There's nothing impossible for our lord Jesus....Take the limits off of God. This is the year for Him to show out in your life, to accelerate His goodness, and to thrust you to a new level. When you ask big, that’s not just being hopeful, that’s your faith being released, that’s what allows God to do great things.

Please Send me your email and number for daily Prayers and Prophecy as directed by the Lord for your time to shine alight is now. 

I stupidly gave that information. Ugh.

But I want you to know the truth my that Being prosperous is not about buying the most expensive items the world tell us we cannot live without. God wants His people, His children, to love and care for each other . James 1:27 The Christian who is pure and without fault, from God the Father's point of view, is the one who takes care of orphans and widows, and who remains true to the Lord--not soiled and dirtied by his contacts with the world

I responded that I have a heart to give.  I walked right into the trap.

I ike the way you think .. You are a giver , your kind is very rare this days

God will prosper you and elevate you if you work everyday with him through prayers and worship...When you take time to shine light into other people’s lives—you’re kind, you’re helpful, they feel your love—that’s what opens the door to their heart.

I have a word from God now for you .. Are you ready to obey the voice of God without hesitation and reap from the blessings of obedience ?

The Lord Put a word in my Heart for you . There is an Orphanage home i support in west Africa,They suffer from a great storm ,as they are just recovering from a fire accident....the Lord is calling you to sow a seed of faith by donating to them and he will give you abundance in whatever you request. I see a great upliftment coming to you dear Child of God. Are you willing to do the will of the Heavenly Father by helping his children today ?

The name of the orphanage is called LITTLE SHEPHERD ORPHANAGE HOME. https://www.facebook.com/LSorphanage/ ..... Like their page and send them a message telling them your intention to donate and how to do that

When you go to that page, and inquire as to how to donate, they want you to wire money through Western Union to Nigeria. Finally the light is starting to go on. When I asked why they didn’t have a direct website, they informed me that they were still working on that.  I told them I wasn’t sure how to do that. The response was to go to Wal Mart or Walgreens near me.  That is when I finally realized what was happening. No one in Nigeria is going to tell me to go to Wal Mart!  But to be sure, I ran it by my husband. He reminded me about a video my mentor had sent out a few weeks ago about a scammer. I had totally forgotten!

When I quit responding to the imposter, this came:

God bless you I will be here to pray with you after you do so... You have such a kind heart and God will always be by your side

I Pray for you today , God i Plea you extend your soul to the hungry and satisfy the afflicted soul, then your light shall dawn in the darkness, and your darkness shall be as the noonday. The LORD will guide you continually, and satisfy your soul in drought, and strengthen your bones; you shall be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail. Those from among you shall build the old waste places; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; and you shall be called the Repairer of the Breach, the Restorer of Streets to Dwell In. (Isaiah 58:10-12 NKJV)

Then I wrote this:

I see now that you are an imposter. It took me awhile, but whoever you really are know this: I cannot imagine what Jehovah God has in store for those who use His Word for filthy lucre. False Witness is an evil. I trust that my Abba Father will deal with you accordingly.

Funny, the posts quit coming.

So, after I quit beating myself up for being conned and lacking discernment sooner, I just can’t stop thinking about why someone would use God’s Word and prayer for financial gain. I know it is because I trust my mentor so much that I would have donated to a cause she believes in, but I just couldn’t imagine someone going to this extreme.  This person has to be enrolled in our course, or else he couldn’t have gotten my name to begin with.  That’s a lot of deception right there.

When I asked Holy Spirit why I didn’t discern sooner and needed my husband to straighten my thoughts, I was told, “You didn’t ask.”

I didn’t!  I saw my mentor’s beautiful picture and assumed the posts were really from her. The words seemed so Godly.  

So I asked, why didn’t You stop me sooner.  I was told I need to learn and be aware. There will be more imposters and false prophets and we can never assume because they speak the Word that their source is Jehovah God.

I feel ashamed at my gullibility and childlike trust. I am disappointed in myself that I gave so much of my information away (email , hometown, cell number). But of course anyone can find that information. It is out there in many places due to my writing work. But it is hard to not feel violated.

Thankfully, I didn’t send money to that fake orphanage, but keep wondering how long before I finally get it?

I know I still am a work in progress. I didn’t need a scammer to remind me!

Just Need to Love

My friend’s dad is dying. He has just days now. I am sad for many reasons, but most of all, I am sad for my friend. She doesn’t know how to ask for help. She has been caring for her father for sixteen months, but in the last two,  he has not been able to be left alone. I admire her. She has strength beyond measure, but she is truly awful at knowing herself and her limits.

She doesn’t want my help. I’ve tried. I text and call, and she doesn’t return them. I’ve stopped in to drop off some food, and she acts as though now she owes me something in return. She doesn’t want other people around or offering words of love and encouragement. She shoves away those that could help ease the burden. Until.   Until she comes to the end of herself and she has nothing left to give.

Yesterday, she finally called me. She went too far on her own, and could not go on.

Of course I went to her house. She was fine by the time I got there. She was feeding her dad his breakfast. He is now not able to find enough breath to talk. He is so weak and frail, that just lifting a cup to his lips takes more effort than he has.

My friend is scurrying around the house, cleaning , because more company is coming.  Her brother and his wife are now there. One of her dad’s cousins and his wife from out of town are coming. She wants to have food available, but she can’t think about what to serve.

Ah, finally! Something I can do. I head to the grocery store and bring back food. I lay it out, and my friend is appreciative. Far too appreciative. She doesn’t understand that I have wanted to be by her side for many weeks. I shoved my way in there several times, but mostly she just assured me that she’s fine.

The hospital bed has arrived. So has a man from church who reads scriptures and sings to him. The cousins arrive.  It’s a madhouse of family, and I feel like now I am under foot.

I came home at the end of the day, and now of course, she doesn’t answer my text to hear how her dad did in his new hospital bed.

So I wait. I pray. I wonder how I can be of  help and support to my dear friend. I feel angry that she pushes me away when I know she needs me most.

I don’t understand, but then, I have not walked in her shoes.

Then, I remember. I don’t have to understand. I just need to love.

Prayer ADHD

Lately I have been unable to focus for any length of time in prayer. I make the effort, and then the distractions come. From the cell phone to the husband to the dog to my own rattled thoughts; staying my mind on Him alone has become almost an impossible feat.

I want to be in prayer. I want to dig deeper and learn the secret things Papa is longing to share with me. Yet, here I am—another failed prayer time.

I want my thoughts to slow down. I want to use my flexible hours for His purposes. Willing myself to to forge through the distractions, here I sit. Hoping this time, my focus stays where I want it. In Him, alone.

It isn’t about desire. It isn’t about faith. It is simply about willing myself to stay in His presence. It is about tuning out the distractions, and letting nothing else enter in.

Thank you, Lord for helping me to turn down the noise in my mind so that my thoughts can become Your thoughts. Help my ways to become Your ways.

Just To Say I Did It

It amazes me how, even after over six decades of experiences, I am still learning new things about myself.

I thought I had trained well for our hike on the Appalachian Trail. We really wanted to feel the true experience. Even though we didn’t intend to camp out, we still carried with us the necessary items in our backpacks, just in case.  Having what we needed if we were forced to spend the night along the trail, there was still great comfort in knowing our hotel room was graciously waiting for us.

We found a shuttle driver who drove us twelve miles away from Harper’s Ferry, and the goal was to walk back to our car.

We didn’t know the trail wasn’t really a trail.

It was a pile of rocks to navigate. For twelve brutal miles.

Our shuttle driver told us that the steep ascent  from the Blackburn Trail Center would be the hardest part of the trip.

He lied.

It was a way to jump right into our experience, though—that is for sure. It seemed like it took forever to climb up, but once we were on the summit, the view was amazing. Only fifteen minutes into our trek, and we thought we had just completed the biggest challenge of our day. I am literally laughing out loud right now.

I did well until after about six hours. Then it wasn’t fun any more.

The rocks in the path had sharp edges, were of various sizes, and unstable. My size 9.5 hiking boots were far bigger than the spaces between them. No amount of motor planning skills properly prepared me for this constant (and rather grueling) trek through the rocks.  After about the twentieth time of twisting my ankle from guessing wrong about where to place my next step I decided this wasn’t at all what I thought it would be.

My traveling companion was moving more quickly than I was by this point. On level ground, our gait was about even, but with all of this motor planning needed with each step, I found myself lagging behind and then trying to hurry to catch up. Of course, the extra effort over the grueling rocks took its toll after awhile.

The other factor was the constant climbing and then the ensuing descent. Words can barely describe the feeling of the immense pressure on the tips of my toes as they jammed into the top of my boots with the incredibly steep downward path.  All of this was, mind you, still navigating over many rocks. Just when we thought we would have a reprieve, it lasted, at the most fifteen yards or so.  There were times we just stopped and wondered how anyone in their right mind would call this a trail. To me, it seemed more like a mountain exploded in front of us, and we had to walk across it.

Every fifteen to twenty minutes, we should expect to see a white rectangular blaze, painted on a tree to inform us that we actually were still on the AT. There were multiple times that I would ask my companion if she had recently seen a blaze. Neither of us could look up long enough to notice the blazes. Every time we took our eyes off of our feet, we would trip on yet another huge rock. It truly is a miracle that I did not actually sprain an ankle, because I sure had plenty of opportunity. We didn’t have the luxury of enjoying the scenery, with our eyes glued to planning the next carefully placed step.

Only about seven others passed us on the trail. All of them were through-hikers. That means they started in either Georgia or Maine and planned to walk the entire length of the AT. We should have wondered why we never saw another day-hiker the entire time. I think I know why!

We didn’t see much animal life – a toad, an inchworm, a beautiful dragonfly, and a feral cat stuck in a tree, plus a ton of squirrels scampering around was about it. We did see plenty of droppings, so we knew some critters were around, enjoying the prolific berries along the way.

But what we did have were the mosquitoes. I stopped and resprayed my concoction of citronella, lemongrass and another deet-free bug repellant far more times than recommended, but it did not stop the most torturous part of the trip. That shrill buzz of the mosquito in my ear is the one thing that removes all of my ability to stay in control of my emotions. That, along with being overheated with sweat dripping from everywhere, pushed me over my limit. It was here that I came to the end of my strength. I started cussing at the mosquitoes. My friend laughed, and in shock of seeing me in such a weakened, out of character state, promptly gave me my trail name. She called me “Mosquito” the rest of the trip.

When we finally came to what we thought was the end of our hike, I was out of water, and more than ready to say I had no desire for a second day of this, as we had originally planned.

The directions to my car were unclear. We followed what we thought were the right signs to the visitor’s parking lot. But to get there, (although only .4 of a mile, according to the sign), was the steepest ascent of our entire journey. It seemed like it was almost 90 degrees straight up. The dirt path turned to steep steps. We put our heads down, climbing each one, thinking we were almost there. About three-fourths of the way up was a bench. I literally collapsed onto it, and tore off my backpack that now weighed at least a thousand pounds, I’m sure. I don’t ever recall my heart rate being that high, and I was light-headed, ready to pass out.  My friend picked a handful of raspberries from one of the many bushes around us, and as I gobbled them up, I could feel my heart going back to a more normal rhythm. I glanced at the next set of straight up steps, and thoughts of a hot shower and good meal propelled me forward.

As we cleared the top, I had this major “uh-oh” feeling. I knew we had taken the wrong path. Instead of getting back to my car, we had instead moved into the upper levels of the town of Harper’s Ferry. My phone told me we were now 3.5 miles from my car. I wanted to cry, but then I saw the blessings. No rocks.  I can do this!

We walked back down the hill—on a real sidewalk, and saw a bistro. We had a choice. We could rush to try to maybe find the last bus that would shuttle us to the visitor lot, or eat. We decided to eat.

Entering this rather fancy bistro, we thought we were far too grubby and disgusting to actually be there, but the waitress assured us it was fine. I found the ladies room (up another very steep staircase) and washed off the first layer of grime and bug spray. I also was quite grateful for a real toilet once again. I had never before wished that I had man-parts until this afternoon when I needed to pee in the woods for the third time.

I had no idea how we would actually do the remaining miles back to the car, but I figured that something other than the Cliff bars and meat sticks I had eaten for lunch seven long hours ago needed to be consumed in order to figure it out.

My friend was too tired to order, so I suggested she get their specialty of Mac and Cheese. She kept saying it tasted bad, and evidently it was because she ended up in the restroom for the remainder of the evening.  We didn’t get the chance to celebrate with the wine I had brought along.

As we were getting ready to leave the bistro, we told the waitress about how we missed the last shuttle to get to our car, and she offered to have her son drive us.

It was quite the blessing to throw our packs into the car and not on our backs again. I am not sure I actually could have put that blasted thing on again anyway.

We paid the kid $20.00 and he was stunned, asking, “Are you sure?” Frankly, I would have given him more. It was worth that for every inch of the way back to my car.

Our hotel was just a mile away, and a hot shower washed away the rest of the evidence of our nine-hour day.

Until I tried to walk, that is.

Still a bit sore, but the next morning we managed to drive the 443 miles back, stopping every so often to move our noodle-legs. With each stop, it took a few seconds for my brain to get my legs to actually remember how to walk.

Deciding to take another hike at our local park the next day, we hiked six miles without a hitch. I wondered why I traveled 886 miles round trip, when we had this glorious hiking path just a half-hour from my house.

But with all this said, I would do it again, just to say I did it.

Lessons and More Lessons

My friend Conniedee and I are headed to the Appalachian Trail in West Virginia next week. I had planned to continue training with my loaded backpack, but instead, I am nursing a hurt lower back with pain in my right hip and knee.  I tried out a new massage therapist and he was wonderful. I felt great when I left his table, and was rejoicing with the thought that I could get back at my training. I also had a chiropractic adjustment and I felt like I was really back to my good ‘ole self.  I came home and did some tooling around on my computer.  Then I stood up.

It was as though I never had any treatments. Pain and more pain.

Now, I am usually pretty good about asking Papa what the lesson is, but this time, I was just kind of stubborn about it. Maybe I could walk through the pain?

I went on a normal walk in my neighborhood and could not wait to get back home. Did some stretches, some time on the inversion table, and felt good enough to do some cleaning.

I haven’t really cleaned the upstairs since the last time we had company at Christmas time. It also wasn’t a great cleaning because I had a broken arm at the time.  Needless to say, some cleaning was definitely warranted.

Jon has a service dog. He is a sweet boy, but he is a black lab and it is shedding season. All of my white woodwork and carpeting are covered in a never-ending sheen of black fur. I was trying to clean the woodwork on the stairway, and it seemed all I was doing was smearing black hairs over the white trim.  That is when it hit me. All of my plans, are really just futile.

I have to reckon with the truth that the cleaning is just not going to get done the way I want it to. Between the back and hip pain, and the constant flurry of doggie fur swirling everywhere around me, it is an impossible goal at the moment.

Now I am taking stock. How important is it to clean? Well, since I am the only one who does clean, and I don’t do it often, I would say pretty important. Okay, then what will happen if it doesn’t get clean enough to meet my standards? Ummmm…. I will be embarrassed when my friend comes next week?  And how good of a friend is she? Does she really care if every dog hair is removed? Nope! 

So, who is this for?  Me, and only me (remember, my husband Jon is blind and can’t see it anyway).

This is me, letting go. Ahhhhhh!

Thank you, Papa for helping me to stay in Your presence. There is nowhere I else I want to be. I’m sure you don’t mind a few stray dog hairs.

Return to Sender

I am taking a course with Patricia King and she shared a story today that has so deeply resonated with me that I need to retell it. She spoke about dealing with bouts of depression for many years. Then this last time, when she felt the beginnings of the feelings of depression coming on, she started to lean into it as she had in the past. But this time, God asked her if she was going to receive it or turn it down. She stated that she didn’t know that she actually had a choice. 

Then God gave her a vision of a postman with a package from Lucy Fur (I love that!). She said the package made note of its contents: depression. When the postman asked her to sign for the package, she wrote, “Return to Sender” instead. Thus, she was able to defeat the feelings of depression, and each time they come back, she reminds herself to “Return to Sender.”

I love this so much. I am so grateful for her life and her example, and I am so encouraged by her experiences.

I will forever now have a buffer against the fiery darts aimed at me. I will sign them, return to sender and not accept them into my life.

What’s In a Name?

I am enrolled in an eight months long workshop to help me refocus my purpose. Our first assignment was to learn our identity by examining the origins and meanings of our names.

I never really liked my name. I always knew that Linda meant beautiful in Spanish, and since I never felt very pretty for most of my life, I sort of disowned my name from my identity. But digging deeper, I learned that in some other languages, Linda also means soft and tender.

I absolutely resonate with these meanings because I have always been more tender-hearted than most people that I know. I can’t watch scary movies, and even most action-filled movies these days are simply too much for me. I find myself stressing in an activity that is supposed to be entertaining.  I chalked it up to just a quirk, but now I see it is because I am so tender, that I cannot help but feel the angst of the characters in the movies.

My middle name is Sue. I have found that this is a derivative of Susan or Susanna, which means lily. A lily stands for purity. Of course, I haven’t truly been pure, but when I step outside of those boundaries, I have always felt enormous guilt and anguish. It makes sense to me now, since being pure is part of my identity. When I am outside of purity, I am out of integrity with who I am.  I always wondered why others could cross the line so easily when I could not. I am beginning to understand.

In the Jewish culture, it is typical for families to also give a Hebrew name to their children in honor of family who have passed away. My Hebrew name is Hannah, meaning favor.

I think I like this name most of all. I have always felt Papa’s favor on my life. I have known for many years that He loves to pour His favor into my life. I also know the enemy hates it when He does, and thus I have been caught in the midst of many battles on this front.  It is here where I have learned my most valuable spiritual lessons—God’s favor vs. the enemy’s desire to steal it from me.

I am loving this new learning about my identity, and I am so grateful that I now adore my names because they were chosen as part of my journey and my destiny. As I grow more into my purpose, I see that it was no accident that I am Linda Sue, (and Hannah), tender and pure, graced with favor. And that really is beautiful.

The Hardest Part

I don’t want to believe I am a perfectionist. But what other name would one call it when I tell my blind husband that I really don’t want his help with the dishes because I will just have to redo them.  I know I hurt his feelings once again.

The right thing to do would have been to allow him the joy of helping me. Yet, I knew it would take me longer to clean up after him than if I just did the job from the start.

I didn’t want to hurt him. I know he wants to feel like he is helping, but the reality is, he doesn’t help me in the kitchen.

Maybe my expectations are the barrier. Maybe my standards are just too high.

Maybe I don’t have the patience I need to just let him do his thing and then clean it up later.

I want to do the loving thing.

But that means I have to sacrifice myself again.

Why is that so hard?

This was a weak area in my parenting skills when my children were younger as well. I knew I should let them try, but I just couldn’t stand the mess.

I love to bake, and I wanted to share that love with my kids, but when I would let them pour, and it went on the floor, I would just take over. I did not give my children the joy of working in the kitchen. I left them with a bad taste in their mouth instead. The message I gave them was that baking is messy and clean up is more important than the joy of creating.  I gave them no gift there, even though in my heart, I knew I wanted to.

Here I am again. Same spot. Same dilemma.

I have to let it go, but that means letting go of part of me too.

That is the hardest part of all.

Stupid Act or Lesson Learned?

Yesterday, I did probably the dumbest thing I have ever done in my life. I don’t know where my brain was, but it certainly was not functioning.  Maybe it was in my haste to get ready to head to church with all of the extra things I was taking for a special celebration during and after the service. Or it might have been because of my incredible level of distraction due to taking Jon’s service dog back again for the first time since his “retraining” at Pilot Dogs. Whatever the reason, I simply was not thinking.

I had the hatch of my leased Prius raised with all of the extra things we were taking that morning, and I had one more thing to add. I decided to back out of the garage, making it easier for Jon to load his dog.  And, you guessed it, with the hatch still raised, it smashed into the garage door, ripping off the spoiler on the edge of the hatchback.

The damage was complete. It broke every contact that holds the spoiler in place, so I drove on to church with it dangling by the back light wires.

All the way to church, I was beating myself up for my utter stupidity. I think I called myself every derogatory word I could think of at the time. I was totally astonished at how utterly moronic this episode was, and all I could think of was how much money this was going to cost me to get it fixed.

Then, I remembered.

What was the lesson?

If there wasn’t a lesson, then I know I would have been nudged by the Holy Spirit to realize my hatch was up. I have had those warnings many times before, and I have come to expect that extra support from my Comforter. It didn’t happen this time.

Now, maybe I was so distracted, I just didn’t hear it. Or, maybe there is a deeper lesson.

When I, ashamedly described my ditzy act during Sunday School, one of the ladies reminded me that maybe I am supposed to provide this opportunity for someone else to reach out and help me.

It was no surprise that this woman’s husband jumped to my rescue to help remove the light so that the broken spoiler could actually come off.

It’s a holiday weekend, and I have to wait another day to find out how much damage this unthinking act is going to do to my bank account. Regardless, as soon as I switched my thoughts from my shortcomings to His purposes, I felt much better inside.

Life is full of ups and downs, but our attitude is truly what makes the difference in how we handle them.

Hummingbirds and Joy

Today, while on my morning walk, I was waiting for some “aha” moment that would give me the inspiration needed for writing my blog. Not much of late had been shaking my world enough to actually write about, so I implored of the Lord to lay something on me.  Something really good! Of course I have no idea if anyone actually reads my blog, but I wanted to be able to have something that felt worthy of a readership.

Nothing.

I waited a bit longer and asked again.

Still nothing.

Just when I thought that at least for today, I would not be adding to my second edition of He Reaches My Heart and Teaches Me, I saw the sweetest hummingbird.

I was reminded of how the hummingbird defies aerodynamics and flies more like an insect than a bird. Somehow their ability to hover is so much more fascinating than watching a robin or cardinal in flight. There are many articles on the internet to explain how the hummingbird stays in one spot, but what I found more interesting about this tiny creature was how quickly it disappeared.  One second, I am watching in awe as this miniature being seemed to effortlessly hover over a flowering plant. Just as it registers in my brain that this was a hummingbird, it was gone. I mean, really gone!  I could not, for the life of me, determine where it went. And I was sad.

Here, for a fleeting moment of joy, and then gone.

Immediately, I felt the Holy Spirit teaching me yet another powerful lesson from nature.

We seek those times of joy as though they are the goal, and yet, almost always before we are ready, they so very quickly disappear. When joy becomes the sole reason for our purpose, we are going to be sorely disappointed. Joy does not last. It is a beautiful thing--just like that darling hummingbird. But before I could blink, it was gone.

I can be sad that it vanished, or be thrilled that it came.

Joy is not, and cannot be, the goal. Joy is a gift of the journey. Our goal is to live out our purpose.

Each of us has a purpose. Most likely, we have had several that have been reshaped along with the seasons of life. But we each have to walk our own path, seeking the purpose of our divine design. We find joy along the way. It's a byproduct of the walk.

Today, I was reminded by this beautiful hummingbird that moments of pure joy do not last, but when they come, we can use them as a source of gratitude to grasp onto during the more mundane stretches of our journey.  I am thankful for the hummingbirds that come along the way. They are gentle reminders of hope and enable us to focus on finishing the course.

Do not be distracted by the hummingbirds along the way. Revel in their sweet refreshing, like ice-cold water after a long hike in the hot sun. Rejoice that we have  hummingbirds to remind us of the goodness of the real journey.

Much peace to you, fellow travelers!