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Night Psalm

God–you’re my God! I can’t get enough of You!
I’ve worked up such hunger and thirst for You,
traveling across dry and weary deserts.

So here I am in the place of worship, eyes open,
drinking in Your strength and glory.
In Your generous love I am really living at last!
My lips brim praises like fountains.
I bless You every time I take a breath;
My arms wave like banners of praise to You.

I eat my fill of prime rib and gravy;
I smack my lips. It’s time to shout praises!
If I’m sleepless at midnight,
I spend the hours in grateful reflection.

Because You’ve always stood up for me,
I’m free to run and play.
I hold on to You for dear life,
and You hold me steady as a post.
Psalm 63

It’s been a long 3 years. But as I look back, I can see how God has carried me every step of the way. I can remember all the times I felt His loving arms wrapped around me, holding on to me for dear life. I can see all the times I powerfully felt His presence. I remember times He came to my rescue and fought off the enemy who was nearly succeeding in stealing the last ounce of sanity and strength I had left. Smoke really does flow from His nostrils, the earth really does quake, He really does thunder from heaven and His voice really does resound when He comes in anger (Psalm 18:6-19) to rescue His Beloved ones from the father of lies! There was the time on Easter Sunday 2004 when out of the depths of my agony I cried and wailed as the morning began. He met me in that moment. I really saw the smoke flying from His nostrils as my anguish compelled Him from His throne and to my very side, sword swinging and destroying the enemy as He came.

He brought me out of a disastrous situation and provided for me while I began the long road to recovery in LA. He provided a car for me to drive from one end of LA, where I was staying, to the other, where I was serving at Mosaic, or where I had the women’s Bible study, or where my life group met. God showed me His love through David and Gina, who gave up their second automobile so I could first borrow, then buy, it — even though they have two small children, live in South Pas and David works in downtown. God brought me out here, providing for my needs at just the moment I thought all was lost. He continued the healing He’d begun long ago, took me the next step and then the next, and is still with me every step as we walk together into wholeness.

He continues to heal me, love me, pour His grace and compassion over me as if I were standing under the world’s largest waterfall. He doesn’t just provide what I need. He gives me more. He gives me good gifts! Gifts I know I don’t deserve, gifts so sweet and amazing. A perfect place to live. A job that rocks, and co-workers that are amazing. Sunsets, thunderstorms and the perfect chai tea.


I eat my fill of prime rib and gravy;
I smack my lips. It’s time to shout praises!
If I’m sleepless at midnight,
I spend the hours in grateful reflection.

Because You’ve always stood up for me,
I’m free to run and play.
I hold on to You for dear life,
and You hold me steady as a post.

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What on Earth Are We Creating?

Alex asks an interesting question, which we are all still tossing around.

And Dawn asked me another good question of me this morning (see the previous posts comments for her questions and my response).

And now I can’t get the overarching question out of my mind. What are we creating? What are we called by Jesus to create, here on this earth, in order to advance His Kingdom?

What was it that the early church was creating when Luke said this about them, and what does it mean for us today?

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved. — Acts 2:42-47

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Looking for the Promised Community

I arrived late, because I over-slept. But I made it.

I was made later still by lack of parking. I drove around and around but couldn’t find a single space available. No one was in the parking lot to guide me to another place to park, or give me permission to create one. So I was on my own. I finally made my own parking space in the parking lot. Had I not been determined to be there, no matter how late I was, I would not have stayed. What was the point? It seemed no one there really cared if I, or anyone else as late as I, stayed or not because no one was outside to help with the obvious lack of parking.

I walked into the building, but there was no one there to greet me or guide me to a place to sit. I entered the room, which was very dark because the overhead lights were off and nothing but a few bright lamps lit the space. I stood in the doorway for quite a while, visible to most, if not all, the people, as I scoured the dimly lit crowd for a friendly face. One kind, recent acquaintance cheerfully greeted me, but the seats by him were filled. No one ever got up to lead me to an empty seat. Everyone was too busy talking to people around them, their friends.

Finally, as the musicians began to play again, I saw one friendly face and made my way to her chair. After a warm, long hug — we hadn’t seen each other in weeks — we chatted briefly and I thought to sit at her feet, since there weren’t any other free chairs nearby and still no one was offering to help me find one.

That’s when I heard it. The voice of my kindred spirit. I turned and saw him clearing a chair for me. Of course he would! He knows. He knows what its like to be in my place. He knows what real community is about. He understands that it must be purposeful and intentional, not random and "organic", whatever that means.

I sat with him the rest of the time.

I listened to a "talk" about community. About how it must be organic — yet no explanation was given what that means or what that looks like — about how it just happens and no amount of "systems" will make it sprout or grow; about how someone wants to move here because of the accidental and incidental "community" that exists when people unintentionally run into each other in the grocery store or at the local coffee shop. Big city flight to the appearances of community offered by a small town neighborhood.

I listened and felt sad. Sad for the speaker and sad for all who listened. If the speaker was describing what community at this place looked like, I didn’t want any part of that "organic" stuff. I’d just experienced a lack of welcome or help. If that’s what he considers community, no thanks. I can get that at the grocery store.

Real community rarely just happens. It has to be created. It has to be nurtured. And it has to be intentional. The kind of community described in the "talk" by the email-writer-big-city-mover soon to be in Nashville isn’t the kind we as followers of Christ are called to. It’s accidental. It’s nice. It’s good. And it should be used as an open door. But it’s not the real deal. The real stuff lies beyond the doors of communal living.

Real community is intentional. It is created when people intentionally build it, not just accidentally run into each other at Kroger. That’s nice and fun and wonderful and all, but what if the person who needs community doesn’t live in your neighborhood? What if they are at your work? What if they walked into your "gathering" just off the street?

What if I was that person? I would not have found it yesterday morning. I was not sought out by anyone who didn’t already know me (and very few do at this point, most of the folks I know having left already). No one was in the parking lot to help, even though there is a very, very obvious need for that. No one came to my aid as a stood as obvious as a naked statue at the "pulpit" of a Southern Baptist sanctuary, obviously in need. Yet no one was there. No one who did not already know me extended community to me. And only two from the other group who did know me sought me out.

Had I been in desperate need, I would have left still in need. And I would not return. Why should I? "Organic" community did not happen for me.

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Comfort Music

Finally. The migraine I woke up with has subsided. I’m sitting on my bed, fan blowing a gentle breeze, listening to Martina McBride sing Christmas carols.

Yeah, I know its only August. I used to listen to Christmas music starting around April. But since mom and dad died I haven’t had the heart. It’s been too painful. So this feels like a giant leap forward. I actually wanted to listen to it tonight.

Christmas was always a special time when I was growing up. Mom made lots of candy, the fake tree (dad hated the mess and danger of real ones) went up and got decorated the day after Thanksgiving and didn’t come down till several days after New Years. Sometimes my oldest sister or my brother, or both, and their families would come and celebrate with us. Mom would always play Christmas carols at the piano and we would sing, each of us kids taking a part. I usually sang alto. Don’t know why — especially when, as a senior in high school I discovered I was actually a first soprano — I just love the sound of harmony. I love making harmony to someone else’s melody. It’s just no fun to me to sing the melody. Too easy and too generic.

Speaking of… One Christmas I remember with particular fondness was that year. My senior year in high school I was part of the Chamber Singers (our elite, madrigal group) as well as another elite group Girls Vocal Jazz. We as the Chamber Singers spent much of the holiday season singing at various functions and wowing every audience that heard us (we were so good that we had to compete at the college level so we wouldn’t sweep every high school level competition we entered — even at some of the college level ones we garnered top level awards). But my favorite part of the season were the evenings we went out caroling around some of our own neighborhoods, just for the heck of it, for the joy of singing. Awesome! I’d never had so much fun as that year.

I also remember the first time I went overseas. I visited some workers in Japan and China in mid-October 1996. I remember thinking, after being in China about a week, how Christmas would never be as cheerful or free-spirited for me, for I now had seen how much overseas workers sacrifice for Jesus and His Kingdom. How could I ever be so selfishly happy at Christmas knowing that so many were in foreign, often rural and poverty-stricken places unable to spend those beautiful holidays with family and friends, safe and warm by a fire, mantle hung with stockings.

Silly me. Years later I discovered that, even when things on the field (yes, I myself become one of the very missionaries I swore I could never be, because I could never bear the sacrifices they make) are blowing up in my face, I could still enjoy, be cheerful, even joyful throughout the Christmas holidays because I was with Jesus — the best Christmas present of all. One I’m still unwrapping.

The first Christmas without mom and dad, however, is probably one of the most painful and yet most fulfilling Christmases of my life. There was such grief and sorrow and such a hole in my heart. It was a daily battle to just survive; I think that’s when depression truly gripped me. It drug me into an abyss that I’m still trying to climb out of. But the relationship that grew between my sister, Nina, and I nourished my deeply thirsting soul, literally to the depths of my being. We grew so much during that time. And we grew so close. She means the world to me!

I don’t know what brought me to these Christmas moments tonight. I know there are some who may read this and think, "yikes! Don’t remind of all the shopping I’ve got to do and all the candy-making and decorating and hustle and bustle and…." I guess, for me, I’m realizing afresh what Christmas is about for me. I think it means different things to different people. For me, its about family. Not the mom-dad-sister-brother family – though those relationships are important. But those who act like family, who embrace me and whom I embrace as family would; those willing  to go to the deeper, darker places in my heart with me and those willing to expose their own hearts; those who purpose in their heart to know others and be known.

That’s why my Mosaic LA family is truly family and means so very much to me. They dug into those places and lived there with me. They didn’t "do life" with me, they were part of my life and made me part of theirs. Their hearts belonged to me and mine to them, in a way that cannot be explained, only experienced. How I miss them! What a wonderful gift from God they still are to me!

I think I may have found a community like my Mosaic LA family. I don’t know yet. It will take more time to feel that out and discover for certain. In the meantime, I will continue to unwrap my Greatest Christmas Present of all, wait for the leaves to fall and the air to chill and for the sweet aroma of Christmas to arrive.

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Solitude & Meditation

Take a moment to meditate on this passage. Don’t just read through it, but linger on each phrase, each word, and allow God to speak to you.

Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. — Romans 5:1-5

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How Odd Is It…?

…that I’m extremely bummed out that I only scored 700 (out of 830) on my credit rating? I mean, I still was given a "Good" rating by all three major credit report agencies. But I’m really, seriously bummed out that it’s not "Excellent".

Does this qualify me for the Hermione-Granger-I’m-a-Failure-if-I’m-Not-Always-Excellent Award?

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True Reflection

Finally! Tennessee is changing their state license plate. Apologies to all who like the old (current) one, but I think it’s just plain ugly. I got a specialty plate because I refused to drive a car with that thing on its tail! The new plates are a true reflection of our state’s natural, stunning beauty. This is a plate I’ll be proud to have on my "tail". šŸ™‚ Come next year, when my tags are up for renewal, the specialty plate is going away and the new, "rolling hills" plate goes on (hopefully I’ll have a new car by then too!). Yay!

Special thanks to Talking Toaster for the heads-up.

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Currently Watching

No matter how many times I watch it, I’m still enthralled by it. I love the characters — espcially Mrs. Bennett as played by Alison Steadman. What a wonderful drama queen! She reminds me very much of a person I once was friends with. Yikes!

I love the layers of the characters involved, and how Mr. Darcy’s character in particular is revealed piece-by-piece. Isn’t that so true of real life? So often our first impressions lead us astray. Why is that?

Is it, perhaps, because so many of us have learned how to conceal our true natures, as Mr. Darcy did, behind facades and masks? We deceive people as to who we really are, what we really think, and the depth (or lack of) and nature of our character, out of fear of rejection, or fear of conflict. Then we live in fear of being discovered for the frauds we are.

Others of us prejudge those wearing the masks, as if we are better than those living a lie, because we are not as they, whatever they may be living as.

Perhaps the biggest crime of all is that both of us fail to realize that we suffer the same malady of the heart: Pride and Prejudice.

…oh, here comes the good part! Talk with ya later….

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Blessed Beyond Reason

I am. I’m serious. Follow the link. I don’t deserve even a quarter of the praise and love given me, but…. dang, I ain’t gonna give it back either!! šŸ™‚

Conna, bless you!

Why such amazing, gracious, beautiful women choose to be my friend, even after all these years and all the crap I’ve given them, I doubt I’ll ever understand. But, man! Am I glad they’re my friends!!

Jesus Rocks!