Peter Pan Moments

I know I’ve been quiet here lately, but my life has been anything but the last few weeks. Work has been cuh-RAY-zee. I’ve been packing up to move into my new home in Forest Hills (don’t be too jealous; its a guest house and I’m renting… but still, it’s back into a home and out of the apartment crap).  And Randy and Jon Tyson have kept my mind reeling with good, deep contemplations and meditations (Wendy, Jon knows Mike Tafoya and started telling his story during his sermon; I kept thinking, "gosh, this sounds familiar! But there are a lot of people in New York…" Isn’t it wild how that whole 6-degrees thing keeps coming around; it really is a small world!).

I’ve started several posts, only to never publish them because I was just too dang tired and wrapped up in thoughts and God-conversations to finish them.

But now it’s time for this tired girl to rest and play.

I’m going to Disneyworld!!!!

Yep, I’m going to the Land of Magic —
for a full 5 days of Moments to remember and cherish forever — to celebrate my 40th birthday. I thought it was an appropriate place for a girl to renew her vow to never grow up, or, more accurately put, to never grow old

In commemoration of this event, I will ride Peter Pan; the experience that first introduced me to a magic beyond what my own imagination could create. Flying over the city of London aglow with city lights was a wonder of wonders to my little 3-year-old mind. I have delighted in the experience ever since. Perhaps it is even the reason I dreamed and yearned to visit London for so long. When my wish finally came through, God gave me a special kiss on the cheek.  Due to heavy delays at Heathrow, my plane was put in a holding pattern circling London. I looked out my window and there, between puffy clouds lay Peter Pan’s London, aglow in the December night. Amazing! I realized at that moment just how long I’d been waiting to see London; since I first rode Peter Pan at Disneyland when I was 3: 34 years.

Have you ever had a moment like that? A moment when, as if suddenly seeing Life for the first time, you realize a dream is coming true, unfolding like a fairy tale right before your very eyes?

When I look back — turning 40 has a way of causing you to reflect on all that’s gone before — and I take in the whole of my life, I see many such moments. Unfortunately, I was unaware of many of them. I was so caught up in the busy-ness of life and on always looking ahead, looking to the future and planning the "next big thing" in my life that I missed the dreams unfolding into reality right in front of me.

For years God has talked to me about taking the time to enjoy the ride of life He’s laid out for me. For years He has quietly, consistently pointed me in the direction of the turn-outs on the road, where I can stop a moment and catch a glimpse of the beauty and majesty of His amazing creation. For the last few years in particular He and I have wrestled and argued and struggled with the idea that, Life and the radical are experienced in the midst of the routine and mundane, the seemingly ordinary and every-day, contrary to everything my mind and heart have come to be convinced of.

What would life be like for us if we chose to live this way? To live as if everything we do, no matter how routine and ordinary, were the stuff magic is made of? The possible plane ride over London?

(I have so much more to say, but I’m falling asleep…)

Have You Noticed…?

…that gas prices have dropped every day for the last week? I saw regular unleaded for $2.88 at a station on West End this morning on my way to work.

Makes me think the whole gas "shortage/crisis" and sudden huge rise in prices had less to do with reality and more to do with greed and "speculation".

I’m not one to ask for government regulation, but maybe it’s time to consider it when it comes to gas prices….

Just a thought.

Southern Foods

My team had lunch today at Monell’s. Yum! It was a cool, family-style southern dinner complete with Turnip Greens, fried chicken, green beans, various salads and biscuits, among too many other dishes to remember. I loved the food (for the most part) and really enjoyed the setting and ambiance. I also enjoyed not having to stare at a menu and figure out what I wanted to eat today. Sometimes its nice to let someone else make the decisions. Since we weren’t a large group, we were eventually joined by a couple and a man with 4 young guys, which rounded out our large table quite well.

Having eaten collard greens last Thanksgiving, I thought I’d try the turnip greens. They can’t be that different, right? Well, yes… and no….

First, like collard greens, they look like cooked-to-death spinach, which I hate, so the greens were already down one. But the taste… well, that’ll kill ya. Kind of like eating spoiled spinach mixed with rancid milk poured over it (I’m just guessing. I’ve never actually eaten that).

My taste buds threw a fit and my throat nearly didn’t let the greens pass on account of the protestations of my stomach (based on the buds opinions of said greens). Surely my taste buds must be lying… so like a dork, I tried another bite.

Nope. They weren’t lying. How do people eat this stuff on a daily basis?? Fortunately, I hadn’t put more than a few bites-full on my plate. Perhaps if I spread the rest out like so, my pile would look not-so-much like a pile as it would a few scraps lying around, and I could just leave it and no one would notice….. It worked when I was a kid. Sometimes.

Before I could carry out my brilliant child-like plan, one of my co-workers, Eric, asked me how the meal was. Before I knew it I was talking about the greens. He actually laughed at my plight. Or perhaps he was laughing at my face, which now seemed permanently scrunched up in that, "ew, that’s so nasty-tastin’!" watery-eyes look. I’ve been told I make very funny faces. I choose to believe that’s what people are laughing at, and not because I just naturally look funny. Or because I have toilet paper stuck to my shoe.

Through his giggles, Eric told me that Vinegar would help the taste. I didn’t think anything could help, but after a time, I decided to try again. I’m not one to give up easily on local food. I like to be able to eat whatever everyone else eats. Part of my overseas mentality, I guess, coupled with the fact that my oldest siblings never gave me an opportunity to have food the way I liked it, so I had to eat whatever was available. Or starve. Old habits die hard.

Eric handed me the bottle of Vinegar (after first trying to pass off the fire-starter brand as a joke)  and, resisting temptation to pour the whole bloody thing over the two bites I had left, I splashed a few big drops onto the small pile of turnip greens (looking pathetically dark and, well, nasty) and mixed the two together with a fury usually saved for the hardest of cookie dough mixes.

I tentatively brought a small fork-full of the newly flavored greens to my mouth and, after pausing to inhale deeply (through my nose, of course) I took the greens-plunge again.

Not bad. Still not something I would eat just for the heck of it. But not nearly as bad as the first few bites.

By this time everyone at the table had heard of my struggle with the greens and turned to watch me as I ate. I found comrades in my greens struggle as several people at the table braved to cross the Southern norm and admit they, too, struggle with digestive rebellion when Greens are present.

It may take me a bit longer than I thought to acclimate to the Southern way of eating. I thought I had it pretty much down, having come from a family strong in the meat-and-3 tradition. But I forgot that there’s a whole genre a food that I’ve never encountered. Till now.

I still highly recommend Monell’s. But be forewarned. Eat the greens at your own risk.

Welcome

So glad you came! As my friend Alex says, you belong here.

Take a look around, grab a drink from the frig, plop yourself down on that big fluffy couch and stay and chat with me a while. Tell me what’s on your mind. What’s exciting in your life? What really hacks you off right now? What’s God been teaching you lately?

Tell me your story. I wanna hear it. I know it’s good, because, well, just look at you. What depth and character you have. You don’t get that by accident. You aren’t born with it. It only comes by walking through dark places and living the real, gritty Life.

So talk to me. Tell me who you are. Let me see it in your words and in your passions. I want to know you.

Too Busy for Words

Dang.

This week was crazy.
Next week promises to be more of the same. At least the early part.
I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time or brain cells available to write anything decent, even thought my brain is a veritable banquet of thoughts, ideas and opinions.

::sigh::

Sorry for the silent spaces. Perhaps this week will be better….

PS — new posts at my typepad Voice of Hope and Turning 40 blogs.

What Do You See?

I got an email from my oldest sister, which sparked a debate between her and my brother. For his part, I’m very proud. He’s refuted every point in her emails (the first a copy of a letter Michael Moore, that egotistical, pompous fountain of misinformation and propaganda, wrote and mass-distributed) — very eloquently, calmly and considerately. I would not have responded so well. Which is why I chose not to respond at all.

I’m so sick of all the negativity and blame-gaming political crap going on now. Doesn’t anyone realize that while they are busy pointing fingers, people need help???? Don’t they realize that wasting their time on that right now won’t help anyone?

I saw a report on the local news about some shelters going up in both Williamson and Davidson counties for the expected evacuees from the Gulf Coast, and how people all over Middle Tennessee are reaching out and giving of themselves to help those affected by Hurricane Katrina. No company contacted by the new shelters said no to anything they requested.

I think it really comes down to this: What do you see? Do you see only the negative, or can you open your eyes, and your heart and mind, to the positive? To the lives being saved, the people who are alive and grateful for it, to the amazing response of the American Public.

That is what I find most redeeming and humbling; the response of Americans all over the country, donating money and supplies, volunteering their time to serve those affected by this natural disaster through clean-up, medical, social, economic and spiritual help. Those offering their own homes, opening their doors and offering hospitality to their fellow Americans. Isn’t that amazing? Isn’t that worth celebrating, worth announcing across the news?

If you feel so strongly that someone must be blamed for what happened, and so compelled to be the one pointing the finger of blame, please, for the sake of all who are suffering, please wait. Wait till the cities of the gulf coast are in better condition, till the clean up in well on its way, till all those displaced by this natural disaster have found places to live other than a shelter, and are well on their way to rebuilding their lives. Wait that long.

Please. Wait. Let this be their time. Let this be about them. Give honor and deference to those who suffered most from all this.

Then, if you feel you must, go back to your political games of pointing fingers of blame.

But until then, please put your personal political agendas aside and help those who’ve lost so much.

    Love must be sincere… Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves… Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with God’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.
    Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another.
— Romans 12:9-16

Surrender

It’s such an odd
word, isn’t it? I mean, just look at it a moment and ponder. It just looks odd. But it’s the meaning of the word that gets us the most.

v., -dered, -der·ing, -ders.
v.tr.
To relinquish possession or control of to another because of demand or compulsion.
To give up in favor of another.
To give up or give back (something that has been granted): surrender a contractual right.
To give up or abandon: surrender all hope.
To give over or resign (oneself) to something, as to an emotion: surrendered himself to grief.
Law. To restore (an estate, for example), especially to give up (a lease) before expiration of the term.
v.intr.
To give oneself up, as to an enemy.

Surrender. I think that’s what it all comes down to.

We’re all broken. We all struggle with what it really means to follow Jesus, to live a "purpose-filled" life and be "on-mission" with God.  Most of us secretly fear
that we will somehow miss "it" — or perhaps have already missed it.

But ultimately, this is a day-t0-day journey.

I think we’ve taught each other lies. Lies Satan longs for us to believe. Lies that whisper, "you’re no good. You can’t even figure out what it is exactly that God put you on this earth for."  "You’ve missed it. You’ve missed your purpose, your Divine Moment. And it’s gone forever." "Keep struggling. Keep agonizing. Keep focusing on those unrealized dreams. And keep banging your head against that unforgiving Wall of the Unknown. Eventually you’ll figure out that big secret God keeps hidden behind that wall, the Secret of Your Purpose."

I have more questions than I have answers. Last week in small group I discovered I wasn’t alone in this. Pretty much everyone in our group said they didn’t have a big picture of what their purpose is either.  But last Wednesday I finally got it.

I’ve always expected My Purpose to be something big. I always thought that God would eventually pull back a curtain and suddenly I’d see it, in all it’s grandeur and glory. My Purpose. My Reason for Being Alive on This Earth. It would be larger than life. It would be all-encompassing. It would be a defined path, a specific task, a Grand Plan.

I worked hard to be faithful in the routine, as Erwin said, so that I could at some point in my life see the radical. And that’s what I expected my purpose, my reason for being on this earth, to be: Radical. Life-alteringly radical.

What God whispered to me all this week — and, really, for some time now — is that it is in the daily, hourly choices that my purpose lies. It’s in the living in the moment every moment that the reason for my being alive can be found. That my purpose isn’t a big, Grand Plan kind of deal. It’s a daily choosing, daily living, daily impacting, daily imprinting kind of deal. It isn’t found in the Big Reveal. It comes in the Daily Discovery package of Life.

No offense, God, but I think that kinda sucks. Its not nearly as good, as exciting, as grand and cool as my idea of purpose. I want the flash. I want the bang. I want the radical. I don’t want to just live my life and… Be.

Yeah, I get that others can still, and hopefully will, see You in me in just the every day stuff of life. But don’t you think that’s kinda boring? Man, I really want to have this crazy-ass life! Don’t you want that for me too?

Do I trust you?! What kinda crazy question is that? Of course, I… well…. hmmm…

I guess I really don’t. Not in this area. Not yet, anyway.

Surrender.

God-Flavors

"Let me tell you why you are here. You’re here to be salt-seasoning that
brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness,
how will people taste godliness?" — Jesus  (Matt 5:13, The Message)

Amy has mentioned several times that believes that all that this moment is the coming hope for New Orleans. I think she is the one bringing the hope. The hope in Christ. She and others like her are helping those who’ve lost their hope because of Katrina taste and experience the God-flavors and God-colors of this earth.

Isn’t that so cool! We — us crazy, broken, messed-up, freaked-out, crazy followers of Jesus can help others taste and see that God is good, even in the midst of such trauma and tragedy.

Only a God so rooted and grounded in His own strong sense of identity, and so convinced of our worth and value and talent and passion would do such an outlandish thing. If I were God I wouldn’t let any of my creations near such a task. I’d do all the bringing of hope and God-flavors and God-colors myself. I wouldn’t trust my creation to get it right. I wouldn’t have faith in my own creation to do me "justice".  I’m so glad I’m not God!!

He has such faith in us! Much more than we have in ourselves — and truckloads more than we have in Him.

Go Amy! Go Joe! Go Wendy and Conna and Kat and Leticia and Ron and Niza and Larry and Los and all you other barbarian-followers of Jesus. He has faith in you. The God of all creation has faith in you!  Go be hope-bringers and salt-seasoning to a whole world full of hurting, broken people. Jesus is with you!

You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God
is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as
a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I’m putting you on a light stand. Now
that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand–shine! Keep
open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others,
you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in
heaven.

Good Night

I hung out with a couple of cool new friends, introduced to me by my friend Kat — who’s never been to Nashville (that I know of). Man, that woman is amazing! She makes friends all over the place and then introduces her old friends to her new ones to create this incredible ever-increasing sphere of friendships.

We had a great time hangin’ out at dinner, and then playing pool. Can I tell you it’s been ages since I played any pool. But after a few games, my body was remembering how to make the shots. These women are very down to earth, gracious and funny people. What a blessing I got tonight!

In other, completely unrelated news, I’ve been thinking of moving my blog to Typepad. I’ve currently got a 30-day (26 I think it is now) trial before the one-time payment would kick in. I like how easy it is to set up and change the template. I don’t have to know html — which is good, because I don’t. Any changes I’ve made to my template here on Blogger have taken me forever to do, with lots of trial and error (mostly error). Typepad has simplified the process so that it’s a joy to change things around and customize it to my taste.

So, what do you think? Should I move?
Check out my two blogs at Typepad and tell me what you think. Here’s the links:

A Voice of Hope
Turning 40

Making the Invisible Visible

Reading Alex’s blog this morning, I learned of two New Orleans’ students (at NOBTS) who are blogging their experiences with Hurricane Katrina and their work to help those who weren’t fortunate enough to make it out.

Amy
, it appears, is from Nashville. She goes to Rolling Hills Church.

Joe is from Mobile and went back home to ride out the storm.

It’s amazing to read their posts. I see so much of Jesus in them! It’s so encouraging, and convicting!, to see these guys and their friends so passionate about Jesus that they are driven to give their lives so others can know Him too; willing to sacrifice their own comfort and the self-centered priorities natural for young 20-somethings in order to reach out to those around them in need, to a whole world in need, and do whatever it takes to meet those needs and be Jesus to them.

Those you in the Nashville area tomorrow. Rolling Hills is gathering supplies for Amy to take down to Texas and help the newly re-located refugees from Louisiana. Read Amy’s post for more information.