A few months ago on a Sunday morning during worship, I noticed one of the teenage boys looking as if he was intensely preparing for something burdensome. He was leaning against the wall, sitting, Bible opened and eyes closed. I smiled to myself a while later when I realized that he was preparing to lead the usher's prayer during the offering.

It's really like that, isn't it? Things we are given to do may be pretty small... but they aren't small to us. We get burdened and may feel under pressure as we prepare for our moment in the "spotlight," thinking that somehow it's so important. But the truly "important" moments are all of the unseen ones that we think don't matter. It's the way we live when no one is looking that reveals what is true about us.

 Living for the Audience of One is what I want to do.

                                              

I think as people we often fall short in the little areas of life because we fail to see that the things happening all around us, though often caused by the unfortunate choices of others, are actually a test.  I want to pass not only the bigs tests in my life, but the little ones, those which no one else will ever see.

"These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold--though your faith is far more precious than mere gold..." 1 Peter 1:7

Getting Off Track - A Facebook note from a while back

Yesterday, I was driving a familiar route home from Dallas. Having done this many times, I was relaxed and confident that I would have no problem finding my way. Not paying much attention, I visited with the passengers in my car. The weekend had been filled with navigational skills required to find new places, and after concentrating at various points throughout the weekend I was now relaxed on my way home, so much so, that I never even saw the sign for the exit I was supposed to take! How interesting, it was with the familiar that I had completely missed it and found myself where I hadn't intended to be.

Obviously, this is a great metaphor! When we are in crisis, or in a place where important decisions are being made, our ears and eyes strain for any sign that tells us which path to take. We pray and hope to do the right thing, alert and aware of anything that will point the way and make it clear. It is the every day, however, the comfortable, normal existence that can dull the senses and blind us to the obvious. We wake up suddenly, wondering how we got here - dead and dry, no longer longing, needing to find the place where we went straight ahead, instead of veering where the route required.

The only thing for me to do was turn around and go back to where I had gone wrong. I tried to find the short cut over to the road I had wanted, but by the time I had it figured out I was where I needed to be. Grateful to be back on the correct path, I had to once again move forward, forgive myself for the time lost, and get to where I was going, humbled to be a bit late.

When traveling long distances, one degree to the left or right won't make much of a difference at first, but in the long haul, that one degree will have you ending up thousands of miles from where you had intended to go.

"Lord, help us to stay awake and aware, listening for Your voice that says, 'This is the way, walk ye in it.' We need You to help us discern the value system of Your kingdom, not getting comfortable, complacent and miles from where You desired us to be!"

We are sojourners on this earth!

                                                        "Thou wilt make known to me the path of Life."

How Little Does It Take?

As a young Christian, my interaction with God was often quite emotional. 

My soul needed lots of healing, and I repeatedly experienced His love through my feelings.  After a while, this need for catharsis threatened to become a false standard through which I measured my relationship with Him. I wanted “heaven to fall” each time I prayed, needing continuous signs and reassurance for the littlest of things. Soon it was time to grow in faith and confidence, no matter how I felt.

As we mature in our walk with God, sometimes His voice isn’t quite as loud. It isn’t so much that He lets go, but His communication begins to soften.  He doesn’t coax, pat, or affirm every second, but begins to ask for trust and faith in spite of the dark.  Feelings and circumstances no longer define the “wellness of our soul.”  We begin to understand that it is a privilege to believe in His heart of love when life is disappointing or painful.

Some of the things I have learned as the owner of horses relates to this.

When the quality of responsiveness is developed in a horse, it takes less effort to get the desired action instead of more.  When I want my horse to do something, I have been taught to ask myself, “How little does it take?” I must resist the urge to ask with force or abrupt movements. He is consistently given the opportunity to respond to the slightest request.  If necessary, more pressure is applied until what is desired begins to happen. Though the goal is understanding and lightness, I am ready to do whatever it takes to get the message across.

What if when God seems to be silent, He is simply trying to refine communication?  What if the Father is saying, “How little does it take?”  Must He clobber us over the head to get us to check on a friend or bring a meal to a hurting soul?  Does He really need to write FEED THE POOR across the sky in flaming letters to spur us to action? 

While teaching a horse something new, the trainer must exaggerate his request.  When the animal begins to demonstrate even the slightest understanding, the human must reward.  (This usually means an abrupt removal of all pressure, along with a few seconds  of rest.)  The method I employ,  calls this rewarding the slightest try.  This is extremely important, since the horse must be affirmed as it attempts to figure out what is desired. After the gross motor skill is understood, cues are refined and the request becomes almost invisible to an onlooker.

So it is with obedience and communication with God.   Sometimes He refines and softens His way of asking and hopes to move us without the need for big movements and  strong emotions. He wants the slightest check to halt us and a nudge to get us moving, no matter our natural tendency.  

As a young Christian, I had need for Him to use exaggeration as I learned about His love, and as I began moving in the right direction, He rewarded my slightest try.  It is now my goal to walk with Him in responsiveness and sensitivity, no longer dependent on continuous emotional affirmation.  

I want to remember that He might be asking, “How little does it take?”

Hannah Meeting Stephenie

Having an adopted child has been a blessed, but sometimes crushing experience.  

This little person wrapped up in brown skin with soft curls had laughter that came from her toes. She filled our world with joy previously undreamed of.  

We would actually  miss her after putting her to bed as a nine month old. After waking her up to play with her for just a few minutes, she would happily go back to sleep again. A few years later, that became an absurd memory when we were sleep deprived with two more babies.  But that’s the way it was with Hannah Jean.  Joy.  True, real, and lasting. She was a gift from heaven.

As the reality of what adoption meant sunk into her happy bones, an ache settled along with it.  Being raised by us meant that there were other people out there to whom she was connected.

She began to gaze with longing at “brown people” and wonder where her biological family might be. Questions about them didn’t live on the surface, but pulsed within her, occasionally making their way to the top. She had questions which needed answers and emotions which needed validation.

She had a beautiful heart, this Hannah Jean, filled to the brim with talent.  Maybe the ache inside of her found expression as she  danced, drew,  and sang.  It all flowed out of her naturally.

Each of us have something we are waiting for; Hannah waited to meet Stephanie, her birth mom. 

Love isn’t always easy.  It chooses to trust and believe that it will be okay to take the risk.  To share the name Mom or Dad.  Oh, but love rejoices to see hope fulfilled.

One of the sweetest moments of my life is captured here when Hannah and Stephanie finally met.  It says it all.

On Wearing White

As I stood in the bridal shop dressing room looking at my reflection, I had one of those rubber meets the road moments.  

As a bride “making herself ready” it was time to choose the dress I would wear as I walked down the aisle on the arm of my father.  The internal "Scarlet A" had long since been erased by my Heavenly Father and I was walking in freedom from shame and guilt.  My life had become filled with traveling and singing and I hardly had time to focus on planning my wedding.  Between tours I would go to a place of business armed with my dear father’s credit card and make a decision, knowing that the number I gave secured the appearance of flowers, food, and a photographer on the wedding day.  It was all quite simple.  

But here I was, looking at my reflection in the mirror. There were two dresses to choose from. One was a floor model, on sale for a pittance. It would need cleaning and mending because it had been  tried on and left behind over and over again in the search for something better.  It would have been fine after a bit of attention because it fit well and would be pretty once it was cleaned up.  

The other dress was satin, brand new, and priced quite a bit higher.  It would take a lot of confidence to buy that dress.  It was symbolic of something, fit for a princess.  Clean and white. 

Choosing to believe my earthly dad’s heart for me was where the rubber met the road that day. 

The dress hangs in my closet even now, a reminder that as a forgiven bride, I have value, I have been made whole, I am loved.  

What a beautiful reflection.

Risk

After writing my previous post, opening the door to my sordid past, I experienced something I do not like.  Though it was delayed, it made its way full force to my unsuspecting heart:  vulnerability.  

Life is so much easier when we play it safe.  Insulating ourselves from our own pain, and that of the world, it could be tempting to live a life of sterile numbness.  No pain, no great joy, just safe, monotonous, risk-free living.

There are times when I am on the edge, having said yes to something outside my comfort zone, and I’ll be wondering just before I get up in front of a bunch of people,  how in the heck do I get into these situations??  But the answer is pure and simple.  I don’t just want to live my own life in my own house with my own family in my own comfort for my own pleasure.  Man, it’s tempting to do so because I am mightily blessed with the best.  My husband, my home, and my kids (not to mention my horses) surround me with great joy. 

Before investing in the stock market, one must assess their own tolerance for risk and make sure the stress of potential loss can be handled.  The hope for gain is proportional to the risk taken.  So it is with life, and some things are worth the risk.  Like being known. So every once in a while I open a door that could hopefully bring hope to a mom whose daughter has run away. Or maybe the aloneness of  shame and guilt can find healing in the safe light of camaraderie.  I know few people who have actually experienced some of the things I have walked through, but many have found identification and help from me sharing mine.  There’s value in that. In fact, other than relationships, what value is there, anyway?

I’m so glad Jesus took the ultimate risk.  He saw true worth and laid His life down for something of value:  relationship with you and me.

Yes, He is the example we are to follow…..may we see value when it’s staring us in the face, and go searching for it when it’s not.  

Vulnerability?  You are worth the risk.