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Deployed

I received an email from my brother tonight, letting me know my nephew-in-law (my niece, Billie’s, husband) has officially left for Iraq.

Ed left for Iraq this morning. It’s supposed to be a 7 month deployment but we all know how that’s been working out.
He will be based in the north, repairing equipment that is being used to secure the border. That means he will occasionally be required to go get equipment in the field that has broken down…. which is dangerous. The terrorists are, for good reason, fighting this build up along the border.

Please remember my nephew, Ed, my niece Billie and their two young sons during this time.

I know his heart, and he walks with Jesus. I know his desire is that all who see him will see Jesus more than they see an American soldier. Please pray that this will happen. Pray that his presence in Iraq will have eternal consequences, even as he serve the Iraqi people to make their home a better, safer and free land.

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It’s That Time of Year

NFL Monday Night Football is on again. MMMMMMmmm… is that the smell of Fall I detect in the air?

I have to confess. I don’t watch football as much as a fall asleep to it. šŸ™‚ Something about the sound of the crowds cheering and the commentators… er, commentating…. it’s just so soothing and comforting. Reminds me of Sunday afternoons when I was a kid.

The fact that Monday Night Football is playing tells me my favorite season is on its way. I absolutely love the summer-into-fall fall-into-winter season. September through December. My birthday. Fall and Halloween — even though I don’t celebrate it, I still love the feel and look and smells of Fall — Thanksgiving and Christmas. Yeeeesss!!! Awesome time of year.

Bring on the birthday celebrations! Bring on the holidays! Bring on Autumn!  After this summer, I’m ready for it!

Go Panthers!!

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Gratitude

I had The Most incredible day! I met some amazing new friends, connected up with a fellow worker from my former region overseas (and serving a people group that I still pray for constantly), hung out with new friends at lunch and for a time afterward, and had soul-nourishing conversations and laughter.

This morning Rick showed a Sarah McLaughlin video to preface his sermon. It was incredibly powerful and humbling. Shaun has a great post on this. I’d highly recommend watching the video and taking account of your own life afterward.

Rick’s sermon was on coveting. And I, like most "mature" Christians listening, I’m sure, thought, oh, I don’t really need to pay much attention today. This one’s not for me. I don’t want somebody else’s stuff, I want my own.

Whomp! That’s pretty much the sound I heard just before Jesus smacked me upside the head with Rick’s sermon, point after point, after point….

The one that hit the hardest was that coveting comes from a lack of gratitude.

Last week I found out I’m getting the exact place to live that I wanted. Its the place I’d left a couple weeks ago shouting "YES!!!! I don’t know what your answer is, Jesus, but mine is YES!!" and then proceeded to spend the next two weeks begging Him to let me have it.

Well, He did. And was I happy and jumping for joy? Not exactly. Now I was attacked daily with pang of worry over finances — what if this temp job I have falls through?  What if they decide they don’t want to hire me after all?  What if I can’t get another job? Will I be able to pay for this place… it is a little pricier than I’d planned, but I’m not paying utilities, so that helps doesn’t it??

Round the questions and doubts and worries went. No, I wasn’t grateful I’d gotten the place of my dreams. I was fretting that God wouldn’t come through the next time. This morning I came face-to-face with the reality that I’m so ungrateful for all that God has blessed me with.

My car, an old Ford Escort that continually reminds me that it’s name really does mean "Fix Or Repair Daily". But it was loaned to me at no cost over two years ago while I began the healing and grieving process after the deaths of my parents. And then it was sold to me by a generous family of four who’d discovered while I was borrowing it that they really don’t need two cars.

My roommate, provided to me by God at the last minute, for a season when money and jobs were scarce. Now I really can afford the place I wanted when I first moved here.

The jobs I’ve had. Especially the one I currently have. I absolutely love going into work. I love the people I work with. I love the work I’m doing. How many people can say that?

And then there’s the more global perspective. Last month Shaun posted a link to the Global Rich List site.

I plugged in my income and discovered this little fact:

You are in the top 3.46% richest people in the world.
There are 5,792,173,913 people poorer than you.

Okay, this isn’t really news to me. I’ve lived in India, I spent 6 weeks in Ethiopia. I’ve visited rural China. I got the hint that I was pretty dang wealthy by the rest of the world’s standards when I was given top student housing to stay in during my first visit to China, which would have been considered slum lord project housing here in the States.

I have it really good. I don’t just have it sort of good, or pretty good. I have it really good.

Too often I forget that.

I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength. — Phil 4:12-13

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I Did It Again

I have struggled for several days with this particular post. It seems I have apparently offended and hurt some people by some things in a recent post. That was never my intention or my desire. But obviously it happened anyway.

Have you ever had people say things to you that are offensive, even mean? Didn’t you want to retaliate, say something equally mean? You know, like back in jr. high, when someone in a conflict would eventually say, "oh, yeah?! Well… you’re ugly!" "HA! You’re stupid!" "You suck!" "Yeah?! Well, you suck more!"

It was usually a way to say "you hurt/offended me but I I don’t want to be vulnerable and just tell you so, so I’ll just hurt/offend you back…"

Well, it appears my recent post generated such a controversy that I found myself in the middle of a similar situation.

It never occurred to me that there are people out there that, once offended, continually revisit the blog that so offends, and eventually even post comments laced with insults, or mean and offensive words of their own. I know, I should not have been surprised by this. We are all human, after all. Even the best, most mature followers of Christ lose it and go mental every once in a while — including me. šŸ™ And I would wager that some of those people offended would say I had it coming, that I deserved every mean word I got.

I just didn’t think that there were people out there who took blogs so seriously. Last week I learned the hard way that there are.

Ultimately I ended up with 3 or 4 very mean comments and two gracious,well-thought out ones. Unfortunately, the mean ones got the best of me.

Everything in me screamed to strike back at these people for their mean words. And, for a moment I gave in to that temptation and wrote a comment that was pretty harsh. But Jesus had His own comment to make and He made sure I heard it loud and clear.

"Here’s another old saying that deserves a second look: "Eye for eye, tooth for tooth.’ Is that going to get us anywhere? Here’s what I propose: "Don’t hit back at all.’ If someone strikes you, stand there and take it. If someone drags you into court and sues for the shirt off your back, giftwrap your best coat and make a present of it. And if someone takes unfair advantage of you, use the occasion to practice the servant life. No more tit-for-tat stuff. Live generously.

"You’re familiar with the old written law, ‘Love your friend,’ and its unwritten companion, ‘Hate your enemy.’ I’m challenging that. I’m telling you to love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard time, respond with the energies of prayer, for then you are working out of your true selves, your God-created selves. This is what God does. He gives his best–the sun to warm and the rain to nourish–to everyone, regardless: the good and bad, the nice and nasty."

With my comment I was falling into the same game, "tit-for-tat". You offend me, so I’ll offend you. You say something that hurt my feelings so I’ll say something to hurt your feelings. Where does that get us in the end? Especially in the family of God? Someone has to break the chain. Someone has to have the courage to step up and say, "whoa, this is getting us no where."

I realized I needed to be that person. I needed to delete my comment. It was midnight and I felt sure no one would have seen it yet, so I went to delete it.

Too late. Someone else had seen it and posted their hurtful words right after.

At that point the only way I could think to stop the madness was to delete the post that people found so controversial and disable the comments section for a while. Was that the best idea? Dunno. But it was the best I could think of at the time.

For me, my blog is a place for me to write; one way for me to use the gift of writing that God gave me, on my own little space on the internet. It’s a place to express my opinions, my passions, my thoughts and the things God teaches me. Sometimes I will do it better than at other times. And most times I can pretty much guarantee that it will offend someone. Partly because I’m human. And partly because I am my Father’s daughter. God has a tendency to say things that offend as well. And Jesus was an expert at offending the religious community of the day.

I guess my biggest issue with all this is how seriously people took my post — and I base that conclusion on how seriously they were offended. It baffles me that little, powerless, no-name, dorky me has had such power over nearly a whole community (if one commenter is to be believed).

How did I get such power? How did my blog come to mean so much in the eyes of these people? I just don’t get it.

I love reading other blogs. Especially ones that present new and different ideas, or, even in their anger and frustration, point out issues from a perspective I don’t have. I have occasionally run across blogs that I found offensive, even from people within my same community. But I just ignore them and don’t read them again. My life is too full and meaningful to waste on frustration and anger over someone else’s opinion.

I just figured the rest of the blogging world saw things the same way. Apparently I was wrong. And I got a harsh lesson from it last week.

To all those I offended – and probably even offended with this post – please hear me. I deeply apologize and ask for your forgiveness. I hope someday you will be able to see my blog for what it is, just my 2 cents. I’m not a holier-than-thou expert. I’m not the great and powerful Oz. I’m just Lu, with opinions as fiery as my hair is red.

No, really. My hair is red. Pay no attention to the roots that are growing in darker — or perhaps just grayer…

I’m setting a new rule for my blog. If you disagree with me, I invite you to tell me (once I get brave enough to enable comments once again) in a kind and gracious way, why you disagree. Please try to be as specific and on-topic as possible. However, if your comment is mostly full of insults about me, telling me I’m rude and selfish, for example, I will delete it. I like a good dialog with people who disagree with me. I learn a lot from it. But I don’t like it when people call me names and are purposefully mean just to get me back for a post they found offensive.

I heard a song on the radio today that best sums up my feelings about all of this in the chorus,
I’m not trying to be a nuisance,
I just think we can do better than this,
That was simply my 2 cents.
You can take it or leave it.

Okay, I think this one is finally ready for prime-time…

Be gentle with one another, sensitive. Forgive one another as quickly and thoroughly as God in Christ forgave you. — Eph 4:32

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Real Women, Real Advertising

Wendy has a great point about Dove’s and Nike’s new campaigns using real women, not the airbrushed stick models. What do we need to do to ensure that this becomes the norm of advertising, instead of the exception?

I love these campaigns! I think it’s so cool to finally see women the way we really look, rather than the way the fashion industry would like us to think we should look like.

I wish someone had been doing advertising like this when I was a teen. Perhaps I wouldn’t have starved myself like I did, or loathed the way I looked because my breasts were so small, my thighs so much bigger and my "Brooks" (my mom’s side of the family) hips and waist were so prominent. —- My mom had the perfect sweater girl figure. But she was a teen back in the 30s and early 40s, when the sweater girl, hour-glass figure was not only appreciated, but idealized. By the time I was a teen, the waif look was in, and waif-girl I am most certainly not.

I’d love to see the profits of Nike and Dove soar in the wake of these new campaigns. In fact, I’ve decided that I’m going to by Dove from now on, to show my support. I know, I’m just one person, and my $2 doesn’t’ really make much of a difference. But I hope that there are other women out there like me who are tired of the messages our culture shoves down our throats on a daily basis that only stick-thin, no-butt, big-boobed women have all the fun, the men and the life worth living. Perhaps if we all add our $2 — or $60+, in the case of Nike — we can make a difference big enough for Wall Street and the fashion industry to sit up and take notice.

Dove even has this cool thing on their website called "Real Beauty", which includes a self-esteem fund to help raise awareness of how body-related self-esteem is affected by the messages young girls receive through today’s media.

So please, go out and buy Dove. Go out and buy Nike. Support these companies who are pioneering a new, better way to advertise their products.

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Harry Potter x2


Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince is soooo good, I’m reading again! šŸ™‚

I can’t believe what she did!!! I can’t believe who dies in this one! It took me so by surprise, I couldn’t get it out of my head for days after I finished the book (last weekend). So tonight I decided to read it again, in case its been "magicked" so that the one who dies changes upon second reading… šŸ˜‰

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Ouch

Mega-migraine. Began building after my lunch-time visit to the gym. Made me sick as a dog by the time I got home. Not a happy camper. Sorry for the no-post day….

Too much work to do, not enough time to do it. I’m exhausted.

Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.

He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.
–Isaiah 40:20-29

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Old South Ways


I saw The Skeleton Key tonight. Good movie overall. I like scary movies and this one has a few good "jumps" in it — where you butt may leave the seat. šŸ™‚

What struck me most was the spiritism pervading the Old South. Living in the Land of Many Churches, I sometimes forget that this is also the Land of VooDoo and folk religions of many kinds.

The movie reminded me of my time in Ethiopia. How the witch doctors there work in conjunction with the Ethiopian Orthodox church, handing out "blessings", spells, amulets and all manner of things to ward of evil spirits, heal sicknesses and ensure long life and good crops.

As a western culture, and as Americans especially, we tend to forget what the rest of the world knows: the spirit world does exist and really does interact with the physical one. Spiritism and folk religions are alive and well in America — and impacting and influencing people all around us every day.

Ignoring it or not believing it has any power, as the movie clearly points out, does not negate its power. And don’t be fooled, it does have power. God allows Satan and his minions to "rule" here on earth. As spiritual/supernatural beings, they do have power. That’s why it is so vital that we as followers of Jesus step into the lives of others and envelope them with His love. We are like candles in a pitch black room illuminating the Truth so others may find their way to Him.

On my way home my mind began turning over what I’d seen and contemplating what God would have me do to help those blinded to the Truth of His love and His redeeming power. I was so deep in thought I hardly noticed when I arrived home. I guess I am still a missionary at heart, ’cause all I could think of was, "Jesus, how can we reach them? What will it take? What needs to be done?"

Sometimes I just need a little kick in the pants from God to remind me how wide the field and how ripe the harvest, and that it’s right in front of me.

I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest. Even now the reaper draws his wages, even now he harvests the crop for eternal life, so that the sower and the reaper may be glad together. — John 4:35-36

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A few Questions

Taken from Inside The Actor’s Studio. This is one of my favorite quizzes. I think it gives some good insight into people, when they choose to answer it honestly — even if not seriously. šŸ™‚ And the cool thing is, the answers could change from day to day, depending on what one’s mood is, where they are in life, and what new things they’ve discovered in life.

What’s your favorite word?
I think this is one that changes from week to week, perhaps even daily. Right now it’s "integral".

What’s your least favorite word?
Again, it changes often. Right now I think its "organic".

What turns you on, creatively, spiritually, or emotionally?
Music. Listening to it or mixing it. People who are authentic, not playing at being something or someone. Hanging out with my friends (all of whom are very creative). Lively conversation.

What turns you off?
Cliches of the day and people who use them. I’ve been around long enough to have heard many pop-culture and church-culture words and phrases go in and out of fashion. And I’ve never liked it. One person comes up with an idea, or a new way of defining something, and it is great and wonderful and powerful. And soon everyone is using that definition or idea to describe a great many things that its originator never intended it for. It becomes a watered down shell of its original self. I hate that. Nothing turns me off faster.

What sound do you love?
Laughter! Especially a baby’s or child’s joyful laughter.

What sound do you hate?
Ringing telephones. ugh.

What profession, other than your own, would you like to attempt?
Oh, so many… Astronomer, archeologist or paleontologist, something in organizational communications or human resources, recording engineer/producer; to name a few off the top of my head…

What profession would you NOT want to participate in?
Dentistry. I have a good friend who’s a pediatric dentist and I just can’t understand it. Sticking my fingers in someone else’s mouth?? Ewwww….

What’s your favorite curse word?
shit — which for some reason seems to be a really bad word to say here in the South. In LA, it was incredible tame, and unoriginal, compared to what I heard on a daily basis. I never knew the f-word could be joined with so many other words and used in so many various ways…. Here, I’ve noticed, sometimes people will even whisper "shit" rather than say it aloud. Very different.

If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you get there?
"What took you so long?" (with a twinkle in His eye, of course) because no matter what will have happened between now and that moment, no matter how hard or how easy "death" was, I’ll be ready for a good laugh.

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Bleeding with Hope

"Pain is seldom expected nor embraced. When it comes, it is often denied or swept under the rug of ‘God’s Sovereignty’. The Apostle Paul tells us that, as we ‘groan inwardly,’ we ‘wait eagerly’ for our final redemption (Romans 8:23). But few of us enter the tragedy of living in a fallen world and simultaneously struggle with God until our heart bleeds with hope. — Dan Allendar, The Healing Path

Back in June I spent a weekend in Alabama with one of my best friends, KatRose. We hung out at Lake Martin with her close friend Jen, Jen’s mom and a couple of Jen’s friends. It was a very refreshing time.

As we sat at dinner Friday night, Kat queried about my posts here, stating that some had scared her that I was losing my faith in God, because I talked of fighting and wrestling with Him. My other best friend Wendy had spoken of similar fears a while back. I think most people aren’t used to someone so desperately in love with God fighting with Him as much as I do.

Or should that be said in reverse? Someone who fights with God so much couldn’t possibly, in the minds of most, be so crazy in love with God as I am.

I think that’s because people tend to say they are fighting with God when, really, they’re ready to walk away from Him and this is their last, "do it or I’m walkin’" moment with Him.

How do I explain what’s going on with me? I was at a loss as to how to communicate this during my weekend with Kat. But I think I may be able to now.

Love, especially a Father’s love, for me has always meant a stoic non-emotional pattern where love and presence was withdrawn when I stepped out of line. I know that in reality, my dad never withdrew his love. However, to my tender young heart and mind, that’s how his actions were interpreted. And I was the most favored of my dad’s children. He often confided to me his disappointment and frustration in my siblings, something I didn’t want to know — and which led to a pattern in my own life of walking on egg shells, of expecting the best performance out of myself at all times, so I wouldn’t lose dad’s love. And when I did, I worked very hard to get it back and and not allow myself to do something to lose it again. Often that meant not being honest with myself or with my dad about most of the things in my life.

Throughout my life I’ve seen God as somewhat an extension of my dad. I have rarely fought with God, or been brutally honest about the whole of me because I believed if I did, He will withdraw His love and presence from me, just as my dad did throughout his life. It wasn’t until recently that I’ve been able to fight and wrestle with Him from a place of love, and feel like I’m standing in a place of grace and acceptance, no matter how brutally honest and argumentative I get.

The year I was overseas (2002-2003) was so incredibly lonely and pain-filled. I don’t want to belabor this point, because it’s not worth doing so now. But, please understand, it was the most difficult season of my life up to that point, and I was in desperate pain.

That was the year God revealed His deep, passionate, intimate, intense — man, is it intense! — love for me— me of all people! Me, who is obstinant, headstrong, vocal, brutally honest, argumentative, disgustingly messy, amazingly unorganized and ruthlessly lazy. He met me at my every point of need. And I had A LOT. Yet He met me there every single time. Every day, every night, every moment, He made His presence and love powerfully known. My relationship with Him really became a relationship — much more than it ever had been.

Interestingly, during that time I often scoffed at the phrase, "God is my husband". God cannot be my husband, I would whine. He lacks the physical equipment.

Yeah, go ahead… take a moment and digest that…. I can be pretty shallow at times.

Yet I realize now that during that time we truly were becoming Husband and Bride. Our relationship moved from "buddy/pal" — phileo love — to "Bride/Groom" love-affair agapao. Now I really DO feel like I’m married to Jesus, in an emotional/spiritual way. And I wonder sometimes how a relationship with a man is ever going to compare to what I have with God.

Then mom and dad died, my team was disbanded, I resigned from the mission agency I was with and moved back to LA, broke, homeless, jobless, careerless, and most of all dream-less and hope-less. The agony of losses I suffered, and the complete chaos my life has become in the last two years would have, most assuredly, brought me to a breaking point in my faith had it not been for the foundation of passionate love forged by God both in that year overseas, and the two or so years leading up to it.

It’s precisely because of the intimacy and depth of relationship we, Jesus and I, developed during that time that I am held fast to Him, and it set me up to be able to experience, for the first time, what healthy conflict is really all about.

It started with a desperate wailing cry, "If you’re going to rescue me, God, NOW is the time to do it. I need You NOW! Not later, but NOW. NOW is the time of my salvation! Please come NOW and save me! I’m drowning in this flood of emotions and thoughts!"

He came. He fought for me. Smoke billowing from His nostrils and thunder and lightning in His hand. I was rescued. My first "demand" of God since I was a small child, and He responded.

Since that time I’ve tested the "ice" more and more, like an ice skater on a frozen pond in Michigan in April. I poke my angry-confused-frustrated stick into the ice of God’s love to see if it will hold my weight. Each time I poke, I push harder, to the point where now I’m pounding it.

And I am blown away every single time. It holds. He holds. He is not at all like my dad. He doesn’t clam up and withdraw in hurt or punishment when I fight with Him. Instead, He fights back. He meets me right where I am and argues back with me. I feel like Jacob/Israel. Really! God loves me so much that He shows up to the fight and argues His case.

Do you know how amazing that is?? Do you understand the magnitude of this new revelation of His character? To be able to fight with God, and have Him fight back, not back down or withdraw or overpower or squash, or even threaten to do so because He is God. To me, this means that He really is that loving, gracious, compassionate, slow-to-anger, understanding God the Bible says He is. He’s not judgmental. And He’s not just merciful. He’s so strong and confident in His love for me — and so humble! He is Almighty God, after all. He could just quash me for my "impudence". But He doesn’t!! He doesn’t even seem to dream of it — that He’s willing to duke it out with me. He loves me so much He fights with me over things that I’m angry about, or confused or frustrated about. Oh. My. Gosh. He really is the best Husband a girl could ever dream of!

Being able to fight with God has caused me to fall in love with Him even more. I can now be honest with God about the full extent of my pain and my anger, of my wounds and my dark places, because I know He won’t leave me or run and hide His love from me till I "get it right".

Oh, and then there’s the best present of all. You know I said I know what it’s like to be Jacob/Israel. Well, in that struggle God saw that He could not overpower or prevail against Jacob… well, here it is in the Amplified Bible.

And Jacob was left alone, and a Man wrestled with him until daybreak.

And when [the Man] saw that He did not prevail against [Jacob], He touched the hollow of his thigh; and Jacob’s thigh was put out of joint as he wrestled with Him.

Then He said, Let Me go, for day is breaking. But [Jacob] said, I will not let You go unless You declare a blessing upon me.

[The Man] asked him, What is your name? And [in shock of realization, whispering] he said, Jacob [supplanter, schemer, trickster, swindler]! And He said, Your name shall be called no more Jacob [supplanter], but Israel [contender with God]; for you have contended and have power with God and with men and have prevailed.

In my wrestling with God, sometimes I see His point and move a little closer to His thinking. Sometimes, however, I cannot be moved. And, amazingly, I don’t ever feel like God is exasperated with me or surprised or angry that I will not concede to His viewpoint. Sometimes He doesn’t seem to even tell me His point of view; just lets me argue until I’m too hoarse to speak. I get the distinct impression this is how God wants me to deal with Him always. To be brutally honest and to not be moved unless and until I am truly convinced.

I’m becoming convinced of this more and more because, it’s in those times that I cannot be moved that I receive the greatest gift: my own "wound" from our tussle — My heart bleeds with Hope.