Tag Archives: wondering

Amazed

It is tough for me to get lost. I know part of it is an inbred sense of direction, but there is something else. I pay attention. I look for the landmarks – the street signs, the buildings alongside the road, the curve of the highway. Even with a GPS in my car, I never use it more than once to get to the same destination. And I don’t even use it on the way home. I might not be able to tell you the names of the streets I took, but I always find my way home.

I believe as a child of God the only way to spend your life is to pay attention to the world. It’s fallen; it’s imperfect. There are parts of it that are downright ugly. But even in the ugliest, slimiest, most putrid smelling place, there is God. He showers His miracles everywhere on this earth.

He doesn’t put up a sign to say, “Watch this.” I believe that would take away the joy of us finding them. But every morning, He whispers to us, “Pay attention and prepare to be amazed.”

The cynical side of our nature, of the world, wants to speak always of the darkness of our world, the harshness, the hurt of living. It is a shattered world. In its brokenness, in its shadows, the world also reveals the most profound imagination of our Creator.

It is easy for us to only see the dark, but we are children of the Light. That means we should seek the Light in everything. It’s easy when we are youngsters. We find joy in the silliest things. Remember water sprinklers, catching snowflakes on your tongue, freezing Kool-Aid in ice trays, looking for out of state license plates on a long road trip?

Then we grow into adulthood and we lose a part of ourselves. We lose the extraordinary in the ordinary. It becomes too easy to exist rather than to live fully, freely, openly. But God is still whispering over our days, “Pay attention and prepare to be amazed.”

watermelonGod’s lovesong is all about us as we walk through life. See the color of your coworker’s eyes. Hear the melody of the cars on the road. Taste the sweetness of watermelon. Look around you, for you are surrounded each and every day by His loving creativity.

Pay attention to the wind in the dark, the trees slapping against the house, the dog barking in the distance. Pay attention to the world, both the prickly wrong parts of it and the exquisitely beautiful parts of it. Drink it all in until you see His love peeking through both the darkest storms and the delicate glow of morning’s light. If you stare at it long enough, you’ll develop a longing for Home – the place where you will be welcome by God.

Today, feel His nearness; His relevance to you. If you watch the landmarks our Creator has so graciously put along our path, your heart will break with a longing for Home. Watch the landmarks that gently lead you to the One who is devoted to you. In His love, you’ll find your way Home.

Pay attention and be amazed!

The Tyranny of the Barline

Memorial dayAs a college music student, I learned about the tyranny of the barline. Composers used bars to organize music – a very useful invention. But when the bar line, or rather the beat associated with the downbeat, the first beat of the bar, became all-controlling, musicians began to rally against the very rigid sense of rhythym. The tyranny of the barline was born.

I thought about this today, on Memorial Day, because I decided over this weekend to rally against the tyranny of the to do list. For most people, that’s where we desperately need to overthrow the oppression in our lives. The overscheduling, the unkept promises, the taking on more than we can handle and of course, the ensuing depression that come from balancing an unstable house of cards, mostly one of our own making.

This weekend, I decided to live an oxymoron – to tackle my to do list while relaxing! At first, the task sounds daunting, something that not only can’t be done, but shouldn’t even be tried. This weekend taught me that’s not necessarily true. It all depends on what items you place on your to do list and your attitude towards them.

I’m not telling you to stop taking out the garbage, going to the grocery store or doing your laundry. All are necessary, even noble things. But this weekend, amidst all that, I asked God to change my heart so He became my first priority. In eternity, God doesn’t care about how many loads of laundry I do, or how many times a month I mow my grass – thank goodness! He wants me to love Him, serve Him; to go out to love and serve others.

In between the loads of laundry, I took time to call a few friends – just to chat. After completing some gardening, I took Lily to the doggie park and thanked God for the beauty in her powerful strides as she ran and romped with her dog friends. I wrote some long overdue letters and cards and on the way to the post office held the little stack in my hand praising God for giving me such loyal friends. And at night, instead of just watching a rerun, I got out my journal and told God how much I enjoyed the day walking beside Him. How excited I was to feel His hand in mine as I tackled the items on my to do list together.

And while many of us are in a season where there is little we can eliminate from our lists, I firmly believe there is always something we can add. Time with God. It doesn’t have to be hours upon hours. The presence of God joining us, opening our eyes to His gifts and awakening us to our dreams lightens everything we must complete. Practicing the presence of God throughout our day is not always easy. Inviting God into our to do lists makes us more aware of what really matters to God. And with that, we can make beautiful harmony with our Creator.

Untamed

October is next week; the beginning of fall. It’s a season I do not relish. I don’t rejoice in what it is: brilliant colors, snuggling in sweaters, hot apple cider taking off the chill. I merely view it as the start of winter. And in doing so, I miss the best part of fall. Instead of enjoying its treasures, I make it into something it was never meant to be. White Birch in Front of Maple Trees

Last night, Richard and I talked over dinner. Dinners are tough for me; they zap me of my energy. Every day, day in and day out, all that preparing and work for something that is over in 30 minutes. When I’m by myself, I don’t mind having a sandwich for dinner. For a larger, more elaborate meal, I fail to see the creativity combined with the nourishment. The drudgery slows my heart and weighs me down.

I’ve tried this past month to make healthy meals, different meals, even some fun meals. I thought I was doing well. Then Richard complains. All the energy leaves me. His mother, for example, only went to the store once a week. She planned all her meals for the week ahead of time, got all her supplies in one trip and never had to go to the store in between. Why can’t I be more like his mother? The words chafe. I can’t be more like his mother because I’m not.

Why do we do that? Compare people to others; want them to be something they are not? I’m not sure, but I wish we’d stop it.

My sister is a Martha Stewart type. All the preparation, all the planning energizes her. Her meals aren’t like mine; they are lavish, orchestrated events. She tackles recipes that would leave me flattened. Why can’t you be more like her? I’ve heard it all my life.

Do we compare others because of something we are missing in ourselves? Not sure. But I have felt forced into a mold when all I wanted to be was free. I’ve felt beat up by images of what others want me to be. Not a better me, but a different me. A me I was never created to be. Rather I want to be winging my way, liberated and light, towards who I really am. I don’t want to be assessed. I want my words, ideas and dreams to bring pleasure to my Lord; not be tamed by some arbitrary human evaluation. I want to be appreciated for the best parts of myself.

We fracture community when we compare. We find the weak points in another and tear at them. Does that make us feel better about ourselves? Shouldn’t we just rejoice because we are together, that we are close? Can’t we use our communication, our words, to deepen intimacy?

I was never meant to be a weak imitation of someone else just as autumn was never meant to be the poor stepchild of winter. God is all over the details of my life. He smiles at the times when I am truly me. When I laugh at something no one feels is funny; when I cry because the sorrow cuts quick to the pain in my heart; when I give thanks for something deeply moving to me; those are the times God rejoices and says, “It is very good.” If you do one thing today, celebrate someone for the truly marvelous person God made them to be. Give the world that. Be the audacious, untamed someone who breaks out of the mold by giving others the courage to just be themselves.