Needs no further commentary from me.

Don't hoard treasure down here where it gets eaten by moths and corroded by rust or—worse!—stolen by burglars. Stockpile treasure in heaven, where it's safe from moth and rust and burglars. It's obvious, isn't it? The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being.

Your eyes are windows into your body. If you open your eyes wide in wonder and belief, your body fills up with light. If you live squinty-eyed in greed and distrust, your body is a dank cellar. If you pull the blinds on your windows, what a dark life you will have!

You can't worship two gods at once. Loving one god, you'll end up hating the other. Adoration of one feeds contempt for the other. You can't worship God and Money both.

If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don't fuss about what's on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds.

Has anyone by fussing in front of the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? All this time and money wasted on fashion—do you think it makes that much difference? Instead of looking at the fashions, walk out into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They never primp or shop, but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them.

If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.

Matthew 28:20-30

The foolish things.

"Take a good look, friends, at who you were when you got called into this life. I don't see many of "the brightest and the best" among you, not many influential, not many from high-society families. Isn't it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses, chose these "nobodies" to expose the hollow pretensions of the "somebodies"? That makes it quite clear that none of you can get by with blowing your own horn before God. Everything that we have—right thinking and right living, a clean slate and a fresh start—comes from God by way of Jesus Christ. That's why we have the saying, "If you're going to blow a horn, blow a trumpet for God."

I Corinthians 1:27-31 The Message

Emphasis on the right syllable.

When I wake up in the morning, I'm already thinking of the schedule for the day.
As I have my morning coffee, I'm planning the grocery list for the weekend.
On my drive to my office, I'm thinking of the phone calls I need to make that afternoon.
Around 2:00 pm I mentally start to list the chores I want to finish that night.
Going home from work, I am making plans, lists, calls, etc.
Fixing dinner, I am pondering if I should blog that night or not.
During dinner, I am hoping it will be a smooth bath time.
While rocking my little girl to sleep, I am calculating the bills I need to sit down and pay.
Vegging in front of the TV I am thinking of who I need to see tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~

When the alarm goes off, I'm going to snooze for a few last minute snuggles with my husband.
I'm going to slowly savor my cup of, enjoying it's rich flavor.
I'll take time to pray for my neighborhood & community on my AM commute.
I will properly appreciate the blessing that is my job.
Driving home I plan on rocking out to some really good music.
I'll have fun cooking a meal for my family.
I know I will share some good conversation with the ones I love most around the dinner table.
I'm going to hold my baby as close as I can, for as long as I can while she falls asleep.
I won't turn on the TV, instead I'll take a bubble bath & find a good book.

Does not play well with others.

Every single day of my life, God gives me grace.
Before I even ask; without explanation; no strings attached.
It's beautiful. It's amazing. It's a gift.
He lavishly pours His strength, forgiveness, peace, joy, power and presence into my life.
It never runs out.
I do not have to beg for it, in fact, He's told me that He loves to give it to me.
He really likes it when I share with the world around me and promises me to give me new, fresh grace when I do just that.

And so, every single day of my life I have moments when I can pour this grace into others lives.

But I don't. I'm stingy. I hoard it.

I snap my frustrations at my husband.
I yell at my kids.
I loose patience with the driver in front of me.
I expect perfection from my co-workers.
My neighbors irritate me.
The dog drives me crazy.
The phone call in the middle of dinner sends me over the edge.
The drive thru takes too long.
I sigh heavily when someone wants to talk to me about their problems.
I roll my eyes with sarcasm any opportunity I can find.

This may be what my God report card looks like.

And then God smacked me upside the head.

Amen & amen.

.......or something like that..........

Recently God has been showing me some spiritual adjustments I need to make in my life. Ironically, it is the exact same thing I pointed out in a close friend's life a few years ago.

Because deep inside where no one else knows me, I'm really a 3 year old. I've been a kickin' and a screamin' while God patiently takes me back to the naughty rug and says, "I'm not done with you yet sweetie."

This is a painful, personal process.
I'm not one of those christian's who can pretend I've got it all together. I've tried that route and it ain't really pretty. I think the church (in general) is full of those type of people and I just don't fit in.

If I'm confident about anything these days, I know this: Me & God we are going to work this thing out. You see, I believe God loves me the exact.same.way I love my kids and while I do not enjoy punishing them (at all) I do it because I want them to grow up to be good people.

This Lent has been a purging/pruning season for me spiritually.
I'm looking forward to some tasty fruit real soon.

"I am the Real Vine and my Father is the Farmer. He cuts off every branch of me that doesn't bear grapes. And every branch that is grape-bearing he prunes back so it will bear even more. You are already pruned back by the message I have spoken.
Live in me. Make your home in me just as I do in you. In the same way that a branch can't bear grapes by itself but only by being joined to the vine, you can't bear fruit unless you are joined with me.

I am the Vine, you are the branches. When you're joined with me and I with you, the relation intimate and organic, the harvest is sure to be abundant. Separated, you can't produce a thing. Anyone who separates from me is deadwood, gathered up and thrown on the bonfire. But if you make yourselves at home with me and my words are at home in you, you can be sure that whatever you ask will be listened to and acted upon." John 15:1-8 (The Message)

My Lenten Meditation.

Comfort, oh comfort my child, Lisa," says your God.
Speak softly and tenderly to Lisa, but also make it very clear
That she has served her sentence, that her sin is taken care of—forgiven!
She's been punished enough and more than enough, and now it's over and done with."

Thunder in the desert! "Prepare for God's arrival!
Make the road straight and smooth, a highway fit for our God.
Fill in the valleys, level off the hills,
Smooth out the ruts, clear out the rocks.
Then God's bright glory will shine in Lisa's life and everyone will see it.
Yes. Just as God has said.

A voice says, "Shout!" I said, "What shall I shout?"
"I am nothing but grass, my love fragile as wildflowers.
The grass withers, the wildflowers fade, if God so much as puffs on me.
Aren't I just so much grass? True, the grass withers and the wildflowers fade,
but our God's Word stands firm and forever."

Climb a high mountain, Lisa! You're the preacher of good news.
Raise your voice. Make it good and loud, Lisa.
You're the preacher of good news.
Speak loud and clear. Lisa! Don't be timid!
Tell the cities of Judah, "Look! Your God!"
Look at him! God, the Master, comes in power, ready to go into action.
He is going to pay back his enemies and reward you because you have loved him.
Like a shepherd, he will care for you, Lisa, as part of  his flock, gathering the lambs in his arms,
Hugging them as he carries them, leading the nursing ewes to good pasture.


(Isaiah 40:1-10, The Message.) 
(Personalization mine. Bold emphasis mine.)

Superpower.

There's a funny line in the movie, My Big Fat Greek Wedding:
"The man may be the head of the household, but the woman controls the neck!"


Very humorous, but packs a punch with truth!


At our home, ask our kids who is boss & they quickly reply: Daddy!
The Poppa is in charge.
He is the final authority and lovingly sets the rules on what is right & wrong.


But in my short time of being a mother, I've come to realize, that my mood is the stabilizing force in our household. "If Momma ain't happy, ain't no one happy, kinda thing." With this knowledge comes a bigger sense of responsibility for me to be fully in control of my emotions. To not allow anger or frustration or aggravation be my motivator for my words or my actions. My kids are watching me all the time, judging how the day is going to go, determining how they should or should not act based on what I am doing.


When I really stop and reflect on this, I am afraid. Fearful that I cannot do this correctly. Because, frankly, life sometimes is hard. Sometimes I'm tired. Sometimes I am inpatient. Sometimes I am angry. I have failed and allowed what is happening in the moment to bring down the mo-jo in our home.

Of course I recognize the balance that is required with being authentic. I don't want my children to by Pollyanna's, to grow up and believe that everything is always in perfect harmony all the time. That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the moments where I'm frustrated because the bank balance is low and I've yelled at my children too quickly. (Yep, just being real here.....)

With great power, comes great responsibility.
" Dear Gracious & Kind Heavenly Father, I need Your help me to use it well. Amen."

An ugly truth at Christmas.

We do much work to make the nativity scene look so pretty this season.
Lovely figurines, decorative stables, persons arranged just-so. 

The reality is that birth of baby Jesus was dirty & smelly.  In the worst possible circumstances.  Crowded Bethlehem would have meant crowded barns.  More animals than normal squeezed into the stalls.

Beautiful, lovely, holy Jesus' birth took place among the animal dung.   
Perhaps this is why I find myself so broken this Advent Season.
Beautiful, lovely, holy Jesus wants to live in the dirty, broken places of my life.

So much of my life is hidden away. Sure, I arrange all the pieces so artfully here in this place.  Sharing the happy, decorating this blog with snippets of things that are good.

The reality is that I struggle with broken relationships. I nurse old wounds.  I am impatient.
I gossip. I am judgemental & critical. My life is full of dung.

Emmanuel. God with us.
As the birth of baby Jesus transformed a barn into a place of beauty;
Please, transform my heart too.

Chaos.

Traditionally, we put up our christmas tree the Saturday before Thanksgiving. We travel during the turkey day festivities, arriving home exhausted and it's always been fun to have a head start on the Advent holiday events.

This Saturday the Poppa has a big-all-day event at our church, so we decided we'd decorate a little bit each evening.

Fan-freaking-tastic idea!!
Unless you have a 4 year old and a 2 year who LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE having boxes and boxes and crates and crates piled full of christmasy glarp spread all over the living room & kitchen.

Every strand of lights has been properly oooohed and ahhed. The nativity cradled x 1000. And the annoying Christmas bear who tells the ENTIRE Dickens Christmas tale when you push his hand has been properly decapitated (thank you POPPA. I love you forever & ever.)

I'm kidding. I'm kidding.
(Just about the every strand light part. Everything else is true.)

Tonight after four christmas bulbs were smashed into smithereens, handfuls fake pine needles strewn like confetti across the floor and at least two momma melt downs, I am sitting here observing the mess that is in my living room.

And my heart so full with love that it is about to beat out of my chest.

Six years ago the Poppa & I quietly put up our christmas tree.
In a silent house. With silent, empty hearts.
My house was clean, organized and controlled.
The ornament boxes stacked nice & neat.
But my heart was shattered. I wanted a baby so badly.

As I wipe away my tears of thanksgiving, I survey the mess made by my kids as they have pandered through the ornaments, stockings and tinsel. I reach over & pick up the tiny figurine of the babe in the manager.

And I bow my head to worship.

Kingdom come.

Today I am missing my friend Rod.

While I now live in this world of winter, my heart is hungry for the time of eternal summer.

Pause.

Life is a little less sweet. Death is a little less bitter." -- Amish Proverb

Monday morning I got the news that a really good friend of mine from college passed away. She had been very sick (complications from H1N1) for a short time and I had been praying fervently for a miracle for her life.

She & her husband were wonderful people. My life is richer by having them as part of it. They have a beautiful 6 year autistic son.

I am able to read her obituary online. But the tears keep making the screen blurry.
I fumble around with my words as I attempt to let her husband know I am praying.

I found myself squeezing MY husband a little tighter last night.
Stopping to breathe in his goodbye embrace this morning.
Committing once again to live, really LIVE fully in this moment.
THIS very day we have together.
A life lesson that God is continually teaching me.

Better to spend your time at funerals than at parties.

After all, everyone dies—

so the living should take this to heart.

Sorrow is better than laughter,

for sadness has a refining influence on us.

A wise person thinks a lot about death,

while a fool thinks only about having a good time.

Ecclesiastes 7:2-4

All of that & a bag of chips too!

Every day on my way to work, I pass a church that is doing fantastic things in our community.  I am impressed by their "out-of-the-box" thinking and their vision/plans for a community center complex is amazing.  They are in phase 1 of a building project that will eventually include a children's play area, two full soccer fields, a baseball field, several walking trails and picnic shelters in addition to their church buildings. I admire their vision very much. 

That being said, they are currently advertising for a FALL FEST at their church.  There are two signs on the road with details about the event ... date, time, location, etc. .... that I see each morning.  Part of the advertisement includes "POTATOE SALAD" as what they are offering in terms of food that day.  For various reasons, that phrase made me chuckle just a little bit when I first saw it.  I mean, come on', is potatoe salad a draw?  Who attends or doesn't attend because they are serving potatoe salad? Is potatoe salad that seductive? So as I drive by, I smile a little bit, shake my head and go on ...

Until I started thinking about it ... 
What good is a picnic without potatoe salad?
A tastey serving of potatoe salad compliments a hot dog meal perfectly.  When you eat potatoe salad, you know if it is a good potatoe salad vs. a bad potatoe salad don't you?  Take a bite of some potatoe salad that is sour or not seasoned properly and it ruins the whole meal.

There are several areas in my life that I really need to just be a good potatoe salad. 

A committee I serve on....  a team project at work...... holiday plans for my extended family.
I don't need to be the star,( i.e. the main course..... ) I just need to be willing to work beside those who are in charge.  How much smoother would things happen if I make the choice to be complimentary to whatever is happening?

Perhaps Jesus was trying to make this very point when He said, "The first will be last and the last will be first ...."

Beautiful Things

In my lifetime, I have watched dreams die.
Things I prayed for did not come true. People have hurt me.
That is why this song speaks to me.
I have seen brokenness healed. I have experienced beauty from ashes.
I testify to you that God does make beautiful things out of dust.
May you be encouraged today; catch a glimmer of hope and hold it tightly.
God is at work.



“Beautiful Things”
All this pain I wonder if I’ll even find my way
I wonder if my life could really change at all
All this earth Could all that is lost ever be found
Could a garden come up from this ground at all
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You

You make me new, You are making me new
You make me new, You are making me new
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

Readin'. Writin'. & Prayin'.

SO, the boy started kindergarten.

As a family, we decided we wanted to send him to a Christian School. There is a fantastic one very close to my office and the logistics all seem to work out. (There was a bit of a dramatic flare to the event, because he was registered, then we were told there was no room for him, then they called & had room for him two days after school officially started ...... but when is our life ever simple? Mmmmm) It has been an amazing, wonderful step for us. From the moment we walked into this school, we knew it was where we wanted to be. Even on the very first day, as tears spilled out of my eyes watching my big boy walk into the classroom, I felt such peace.

To say the boy LOVES it is an understatement. I pick him up in the afternoon and as he climbs in to the van he is rapidly discussing what he learned that day. His brain is being stretched and he is absolutely loving the experience. It is a fantastic adventure, one that we hope & pray will continue to be with him for his whole educational journey. We excitedly review the day's papers and he is actually disappointed when there is no homework sheet in his folder. And almost daily, the Poppa prays a blessing over the boy (& sister girl too) that he would "grow in widsom & in favor with God & man."

I am not alone in recognizing this is another milestone in the journey of motherhood. The emotion of it has taken me by surprise at times. I believed I was "super-woman" and would not be affected by this step. O.contrare. The transformation of my preschool son into a real, kindergarten, school boy has me scrambling for many a Kleenex. It hits me at various times, but most often as I watch him hop, jump & run out to meet me at the end of a day. His face & hands are usually grubby, his shirt disheveled and pulled out of his shorts, the grime and sweat making his unruly hair to spike up in various parts.

I look at him in that moment and I see it for what it really is.
A moment.
Such a beautiful one, but oh-so fleeting.
Five years feels like only a few days....

Recognizing the weight of this causes me to pray harder, more earnestly. And it feels like I am the one who is being taught. Learning to shape my life, my actions, my words after Jesus. Knowing that is only through His grace that I can be the mother my children need me to be.
Lord, help ME to "grow in wisdom & in favor" too.

And as Jesus grew older

He gained in both wisdom and stature,

and in favour with God and man.

Luke 2:52

Tidings of comfort.

~Psalm 23~
(A psalm of David)
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me to lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside the still waters.
He restores my soul;
He leads me in the paths of righteousness; For His name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup runs over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
All the days of my life;
And I will dwell in the house of the LORD
Forever.

Covering all the bases.

Once upon a time a harried mom & dad took a trip
With two adorable preschoolers, who both had to make an emergency potty break.
....blah...blah...blah..

The family chariot pulled off the interstate into a Target parking lot and both parents rushed to get the said kiddos out of the vehicle. Upon exiting the vehicle, they quickly realized that they had locked the keys (the only set of keys) inside the mini van while it was still running.
....wah....wah....wah

The Momma smartly said she was going to take the offspring and run away to the bathroom and while inside she would pray for the Poppa.
Once in the bathroom the Momma instructed the children to hurriedly do their business and that it would be wise, very wise for the wee ones to join her in praying for the Poppa & the-locked-keys-inside-the-van-situation.

The boy's prayer went something like this:
Dear God, Please help Daddy. Please help the locked van. In the name of the Father, the Son, the Holy Ghost, the Holy Spirit and all of the other ones too. Amen.
.....ha....ha.....ha
Very soon mall security came to our rescue, unlocked the doors and the family lived happily ever after.

The End.

Growing Pains

Personally, deep in the dark places of my heart where no one else knows me:
God is showing me some stuff that I don't exactly know what to do with.
Areas where I need to grow, to change, to improve.
Things that need to be pruned out of my attitudes.
Gaping holes that need to be filled with His grace & abundance.
Discplines that need to be cultivated.

While I won't go into specifics, nor will I share any more than just that, I will say that God has been amazingly good during this time. I began 2009 with a sincere quest to know HIM better, more intimately and He has been faithful.

This has been a good place for me, even if I have been silent here in this space. I never want to stop growing in my journey with this God who I continually fall in love with.

SMELL. (Our Ministry in 5 senses)

There is an edge to the people we serve on Sunday mornings. Often times as I come downstairs and encounter the line that is already formed, I am assaulted by the scent of....

Fresh sweat and dirty feet.
Dried blood from last night's bar fight.
Earthy, fluid exchange residue from being used.
Distinctive breathes full of hard liquor.
The rawness of not having the advantage of daily bathing routines.

These all mingle together into one intoxicating mess.
The very essence of broken people.

The folks who come to eat with us on Sunday mornings don't have their lives together. And in that aspect, they are very much like me. Sure, I may "gussy" myself up and spray some perfume, but inside I am broken.

And the only thing that could ever fix me was the grace of Jesus Christ.

So I humbly stand in line with them.
I eat my eggs and toast with them.
I look them in the eye, pat them on the back and hug them around the neck.
In our exchanges, sometimes I come home smelling like them.
And when I do, I sense God's favor.

TASTE.

The journey on how we came to minister at an inner city church could take a couple of hours to explain. It certainly wasn't on our horizon. Neither one of us had experience at this type of church. Looking at us from an educated perspective, we are unqualified. Knowing us from a personal perspective, it is surprising. This was not our dream. This was not our plan. This was not where we had aspired/hoped/prayed to be.

And yet, God has given us great passion for this place.
Intense passion.
Overwhelming at times.

We came with a handful of good folk dedicated to do Kingdom work. We were hopeful and naive and had no idea what would happen on the West Side of Charleston. We also had no idea on how to reach our community.

Many of us were familiar with the neighborhood, only through local TV coverage of the crime problems. We knew that there were large communities of public housing there. Rated: Poverty Level in the census reports. How could we declare the power & freedom of Jesus to people so entangled by poverty and generational dependence upon government programs?

We quickly realized that people came if there was food involved.
Hot dog cookouts attracted a crowd. (Large crowds in fact.)

Our resources were (still are) very limited. Our core group small. How could we utilize what/who we had with the maximum opportunity? Somehow we made the connection that we were there every sunday MORNING.
And what do people eat in the morning? BREAKFAST.

Let's serve breakfast!
When we hung out our little "Free Breakfast, Every Sunday @ 11:30" sign, we had no idea what kind of adventure we were embarking. We did not know that eventually this thing would grow & that sometimes we'd run out of eggs. We did not expect to serve persons whose faces sometimes appear on the Charleston's Most Wanted list. We didn't plan for the waiting line to sweep through the hallway & outside the building.

We simply opened the door, baked some biscuits & said Come on in!
Through a modern-day-miracle, God continues to multiply our loaves & fishes each week.
No one leaves hungry, instead they are filled up on hot coffee & warm, tastey food.

I like to think that everyone who comes would agree that on Sunday mornings at 814 Florida Street, the gospel tastes a little bit like scrambed eggs & bacon.
(Or sausage, whatever is on sale or donated that week!)

"Taste & see that the Lord is good!" Psalm 34:7

HEAR. (Our Ministry in 5 senses)

So much of what is said on Sunday mornings at our church is unspoken.

We serve a large crowd in a small space and yet for the most part, we don't have a rough and rowdy group of folk come through the serving line. (I won't lie, there has been an occasional scuffle.)

There is chit chat, greetings and a little small talk, but for 75 people, the noise level is minimal.

But if you stop for a moment, the screams coming from our people are deafening. Downcast eyes, full of hurt and pain. Slumped shoulders carved out from a life of rejection. Broken spirits inside of bodies that are tired, weary & worn down.

What I hear from our people is the silence of shame and embarrassment.

And it's intense. Louder than any shouting match you've ever heard.

No one plans on living a life where they need to accept a free meal on a regular basis.
No. One.
They are poor people, overwhelmed by the journey life has taken them.

I hear it when they look me in the eye and say thank you. I hear it when they reach for the bag from the food pantry and shuffle on out the door. I hear it when they clean their plates and hope for seconds. I hear it as they stuff their pockets with whatever freebie is on the table that week.

We've worked really hard to be a community that is generous with what we have. We are committed to being loving and kind and giving. Yet we recognize that this one small meal on Sunday mornings cannot erase a lifetime of choices & circumstances.

And so in faith, we continue to step forward, serving eggs & toast, knowing all the while that we are in partnership with THE ONE who hears these quiet cries more keenly than we ever can. It's why we do what we do. It's why we believe in what we are doing. It's what motivates us to continue, even when we are exhausted and cranky and ready to stop listening.

Because we know God hears the cry of human hearts everywhere, even on the West Side of Charleston, WV.

Time to get up, God—get moving.
The luckless think they're Godforsaken.
...........
But You know all about it—
the contempt, the abuse.
I dare to believe that the luckless
will get lucky someday in You.
You won't let them down:
orphans won't be orphans forever.

The Message, Psalm 10:12-14