Category Archives: Memories

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Of Roots & Dreams

Larry and I have been having an interesting discussion in the comments of his Generosity-of-dreams post. Here’s his latest comment to me:

One of the first gifts God gave me when He brought me back to Himself was the idea that “the first bricks go on the bottom.” Churches and sermons are full of fire and zip, and the implication is that we’re supposed to be instant Christians. Just add Jesus.

I’ve held to that idea ever since. I’m not going to allow myself to be buffaloed into overextending myself, as I’ve done in the past. I’ll let the bandwagon just roll on by, and I’ll keep walking in the belief that Jesus is holding my hand and that we’ll catch up with the bandwagon if we need to.

I think there is a lot more to the life that God wants to give me. Us. All of us. We don’t, however, have the patience of the oak tree that spends its first few years making roots so that a four-inch tree has a six-foot root underneath.

I believe that God’s life needs that root. I believe that there is much more to the life He wants to give us, but we can’t live without the root.

In short, I think you’re doing fine. You’re making roots. Sometime, if you just simply keep following Jesus, you’ll find out what your heart desires and He will give it to you. Being enraptured by Jesus’ glorious face is, I believe, where we start.

We’re used to living in a desert. If God were to dump all of what He wants to onto us we’d choke. It’s like feeding someone who has been starving for years: you don’t put him before a table loaded with pizza and steak. You start with broth.

God is a most excellent builder. He will do for us what He has promised.

His comment brought such hope to me! And a spark of life. This is what I miss from LA. I miss my Life Group. I miss my friends like Wendy, Ron and Leticia. I miss the times we had of communing together; with our hearts and souls intermingling, so that we shared in each other’s struggles and pain. Not just a time where we shared “prayer requests” but where we shared our hearts. They were safe places I knew I could bear my soul without condemnation or judgment, where it was okay to be who and where I was right then, where I could get words of encouragement and hope that spread across my whole being like a healing balm…. I think Larry’s found that with Nate and Debbie, and I envy him. I envy Wendy and her close proximity to all our other friends…

Ah, but that is rabbit to chase another time… right now I want to go back to the idea of growing roots.
Larry said:
“I believe that God’s life needs that root. I believe that there is much more to the life He wants to give us, but we can’t live without the root. In short, I think you’re doing fine. You’re making roots..

As I began my reply to him, an image popped into my head. A dream I’d had in ’97. Yes, I know. It’s a bit freaky that I remember a dream from that far back in my life. Even more freaky is that I remember it with vivid clarity. I also remember God’s interpretation, which came the following morning, with the same vivid clarity.

Now before you get even more wigged out that I’m going all “charismatic” on ya šŸ™‚ (my apologies to my charismatic friends), this is an unusual thing for me. I don’t normally have dreams interpreted by God. In Love with Jesus I am. But Daniel or Joseph I am not (however, I have suddenly developed a strange affinity for talking like Yoda… weird).

The dream starts with me coming out of my parents church in Riverside (which, in the dream was my church… everyone at Magnolia Ave Bapt please stand and wave… thank you, you may sit down now…) As I approach my car, I realize all 4 tires have been slashed. Now what do I do? Suddenly, the church is no longer in Riverside, but in LA (for non-SoCal’s, they are about 50-60 miles apart) and I call my dad — in Riverside — and tell him what’s up. He says call AAA and have them get the tires okay enough to get out to him and we’ll go together to get new tires. I call AAA, they come and do their thing… but as the guy is leaving he tells me his is a very temporary and fragile fix. I cannot, repeat cannot go over 35mph, or my tires will explode and I will most likely cause a huge accident. The picture I got in my mind was of me killing myself and several others around me… Yikes!
I knew I needed to head straight out to dad’s, but I had so many errands I wanted to run! So, I ran them, all the while knowing my dad was waiting… patiently… for me to arrive so we could take care of the tires. I woke before arriving in Riverside, with this very uneasy feeling that lasted all morning… yet still feeling the warmth mixed with twinges of guilt of knowing my dad was patiently awaiting my arrival.

God interpreted the dream over a day later (Perhaps this was so there would be no mistaking both the dream and interpretation came from Him…). Driving home for Life Group God suddenly brought the dream back to mind my with stunning clarity. He pointed out that this was about my life; the tires represented “feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.” Eph 6:15 — Erwin had been going through the armor of God in his talks on Sundays, this one had been the previous Sunday’s… and the key word this piece of armor was “discipline.” God said, as long as I continued the way I was, I would still be okay, but I wouldn’t get where I wanted to go very fast. I was left with this feeling that He was waiting, patiently (as my dad was in the dream) for me, so we could get the “tires” replaced so I could go-go-go.

This dream and God’s interpretation has come back to “haunt” me at various points in my life. Almost like a quiet, “God said this would happen…” sigh of my spirit. Or perhaps God’s spirit in me…. I never heeded God’s warning back in ’97 to “take care of my tires”… not really. I’ve made good stabs at it. Worked at being disciplined in time in the Word, time with Him, in living a godly life. But I lack consistency, so I don’t think I’ve ever achieved it… I certainly don’t see myself as disciplined now.

Perhaps the dream is not just about discipline… Perhaps that’s just the human definition I put on it because that was the one closest at hand at the moment to understand “feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.” — which was very, very clearly stated by God (while the discipline wasn’t — I inferred it because of Erwin’s study)…. or perhaps part of growing roots is discipline… or part of discipline is growing roots…

The Amplified Bible puts verse 15 this way:
And having shod your feet in preparation [to face the enemy with the firm-footed stability, the promptness, and the readiness produced by the good news] of the Gospel of peace.

That would certainly imply discipline, at least in part. It doesn’t cover the whole of the verse… preparation is more than just discipline. It also involves practice, skill, alertness, a ready stance — like the feet spread that you get when you’re bracing yourself against a strong wind gust… just like a tree must have deep roots that will brace it, hold it steady, give it stability if it is to survive gale force or hurricane force winds…

“[Most] blessed is the man who believes in, trusts in, and relies on the Lord, and whose hope and confidence the Lord is. For he shall be like a tree planted by the waters that spreads out its roots by the river; and it shall not see and fear when heat comes; but its leaf shall be green. It shall not be anxious and full of care in the year of drought, nor shall it cease yielding fruit.” — Jer 17:7-8 Amp. Bible

I guess God is working on my feet, huh. I’m growing roots deep into the heart of God. That’s good. Because I just can’t seem to get enough of Him these days. So perhaps bigger, deeper, longer roots will help… I still need to work on the discipline thing… I need to become more consistent. I hope that part of God’s work on my feet will include helping me in this area too. ….Perhaps one day, someone will want to put this on my tombstone….

How beautiful upon the mountains were the feet of she who brought good tidings, who published peace, who brought good tidings of good, who published salvation, who said to Zion, Your God reigns! — Isa 52:7 Amp. Bible with Lu’s alterations

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Exhausting Ride

What a crazy couple of days it’s been. I don’t quite know what to make of it all.

I went to bed last night… well, this morning really, believing that it would be a week or more before we knew who won the election, only to be surprised this morning with news of Kerry’s concession. I have to say, Kerry gained my respect, or at least a level of it, by his actions today. He was well within his legal right to hold off on conceding, to drag his heals and wait for all the provisional ballots to be counted… even ask for a recount. But rather than pushing his own agenda, hanging  selfishly onto his ambition to win and dragging the country into another drawn out legal scuffle, he did the gracious and honorable thing: Stepped aside and let the winner be the winner, from the beginning. He scored some points with me with that one. Not enough to convince me to vote for him next election. He wasn’t that good. šŸ™‚ But he did score some points.

Work was rather crazy the last couple of days, especially today… I’ve never seen so much activity over an election result before. I’m actually used to the election just being one distraction of many during the day, not the whole focus of the day. And I’m definitely not used to my coworkers getting excited and celebrating wins for conservative issues or candidates. Wow, was that a weird experience! We had a staff meeting in which the president talked all about the election and how the outcome of the various "victories" will impact the future. I sat there, almost in shock. I kept having these crazy flashbacks to where I was 4 years ago. How different my situation was then!

I was working in tv post production at Paramount. The only, and I mean only Republican in my department. I tried not to discuss politics. But because the people there were so incredibly bored, and detested their jobs, they looked for anything that could distract them from their work… politics was great for that. Eventually it got out that I was one of those "right-wingers"… perhaps they just decided it had to be thus, because they already knew I was going overseas as a missionary. So I was constantly bombarded with questions and accusations. How could I support this or that in the Republican platform??? How could I be for Bush??? And against gays and against women’s rights and against…. yadda yadda yadda…

I think I handled it all quite well, actually. But that was only because God poured out His grace over me, and helped me keep my tongue in check… or in cheek, as the case was at times. šŸ™‚ He gave me the grace to have a sense of humor about it all… When you get down to it, it’s really all rather funny to me — and fun! — to watch and listen to liberals go off on the evils of conservatism and how virtuous their views are. I think that’s why I love "The West Wing" (tv show) so much. So often liberals trip over the truth, claim it as their own, without ever realizing 1) God came up with it first; 2) it doesn’t fit with the rest of their beliefs (pluralism at it’s weirdest); 3)even when they portray Truth as "evil" or "intolerant," their very arguments prove the rightness, goodness and wisdom of it; and 4)–and the scariest to them!– often it’s actually conservative values their espousing. They get it "right" more than they will ever know… amazing. For more on this, see my Democrats just don’t get it post.

When I was younger, political debates really frustrated me. My oldest sister, Paula (whom I love dearly, but don’t agree with hardly at all when it comes to politics) is a dyed-in-the-wool liberal. A Flower Child who never grew up — and never intends to. I would get so frustrated and flustered trying to talk politics with her. Not only can she talk/debate circles around me, but her passion and conviction are incredible forces to be reckoned with. As were the passions and convictions of my coworkers.

However, my coworkers weren’t my oldest sister — that is to say, I didn’t have a need to impress them or be liked and respected by them the way I did my sister. So I felt free to just smile and say, that’s nice… but it didn’t change my mind. I felt free to choose not to respond, not to defend my position (which I’d not felt with my sister, for some stupid reason). And I felt free to take time in thinking through, and giving voice to, my convictions. It made for interesting work days leading up to the election, that’s for sure.

Then Florida happened… have you ever noticed that since 2000, people refer to Florida as if it just appeared out of the ocean in November that year? It "happened". Florida. Happened. (insert dramatic music here). And I was at fault. I never figured out how I was, but my coworkers were convinced of it….

It was quite a ride, those recounts… and then came the accusations that Bush had stolen the election. Stolen Florida….
Poor Florida. First it "happened", and then it was "stolen".
And it was all my fault….

As I sat in the conference room today reflecting on those experiences four years ago, I marveled at how different things are for me now. TV Post was NOT a happy place to work. No one, not even the boss, liked their jobs. Morale didn’t exist, there was lots of gossip and backstabbing… it was a dark, dark place. My work environment today, on the other hand, is just the opposite. Everyone I work with now seems to enjoy their job. There’s no gossip or backstabbing, at least none that I’ve heard yet — and by now I would have heard it. You’d be amazed by what people tell temps! — and there’s a spirit of gratefulnes and humility that I’ve rarely experienced at a job — and sadly, even within many ministry teams I’ve been a part of.

I’m still completey mystified as to what God has in store for me at this current job. But today I was grateful just for the chance to experience, and celebrate, an election victory with coworkers who share my political bent

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Happy Anniversary Mom & Dad

Today would have been your 62nd wedding anniversary.

Wow.
Who knew that love could last that long. From the beginnings of high school….

….through to your old age… through illnesses, wars, arguments, children’s rebellions, their marriages, struggles, lost teeth, lost battles, lost loves… Your love survived.

Your love survived sickness, disappointment, unemployment, uncertainty, your own self-doubts, fears, longings, unmet expectations, the death of dreams, the death of children through miscarriage, battle wounds, heart wounds from words spoken in anger or pain, long distances and separations…

Even as the days of your life grew short, and illness overtook you both, neither of you wavered in your love for each other. Mom, you watched over dad and took extraordinary care of him, until dementia stole your mind. Dad, you loved mom from your whole heart, provided for her, and never once considered abandoning her for another, even when she no longer seemed the woman you knew in your youth.

Your love provided inspiration for the children you have left behind. We saw your love and devotion to each other and learned that marriage really can work, an important, invaluable lesson in this world where nothing lasts, especially relationships.

You weren’t perfect. You made mistakes. Your relationship was full of problems and struggles, miscommunications and hurts. No one is perfect, so how can we expect our relationships to be either? But you did your best. You forgave each other, and over everything, you poured out your love.

Your nearly 61 years of marriage brought much good into the world. Four wonderful individuals: God-designed and God-ordained people, who have, in their many years of life, continued to touch others’ lives because of your influence. The love and devotion you had for each other was transferred to us. The adoration and commitment you had to Jesus was passed down to your children.

Besides us, there are countless people who have been touched by your lives, your love, your ministry, your laughter… from soldiers you fought alongside, dad, in World War II and yes, even Vietnam (I am convinced you had much more impact there than you ever knew, until you stepped foot into heaven)…. to the women you reached out to, mom, even the momentary touches you gave to someone you didn’t even know. And you both certainly impacted the doctors and nurses who took care of you in the hospital last year.

And you had a powerful impact on me.

Being your daughter was the single best gift God ever gave to me besides His redemption through His own blood. I do the best I can to live out what I saw modeled by you both. To become a woman you can be proud of. I hope when we are reunited in heaven, you will be able to say that I lived a life worthy of your legacy; one that you weep with joy over.


I don’t know if you have anniversary celebrations in heaven. But I celebrate your anniversary today, even though… well, even though death has now parted you, not from each other, but from us. I celebrate your lives together, the relationship that began over 66 years ago, and now continues in heaven. And I celebrate the gift of your love, that you gave so freely to everyone in your lives.

I love you.
Your Proud Daughter.

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Wish You Were Here

I love you mom and dad.
I miss you very much.

I know you’re happier — and better off — where you are . And I wouldn’t wish upon you a forced return to this world for anything.

But life is not the same without you here. It lacks a certain spice. One that only you two can bring.

I saw a sunset the other day, dad, that you would have loved. The sky was this amazing mix of amber and rose, gold and indigo. Who knew all those colors could go together that way! And you would love Tennessee! The land is beautiful beyond compare. I don’t even know if Alaska can beat it… but you would know that better than I…. Such history is tied to this land. Even our family history… ancestors that lived here… even some that explored this frontier long ago. How you would love it here!

And you’d love our team too. John, our leader… I wish you could meet him. You’d approve. He’s a godly man. A little weird perhaps, but, that only helps him understand and relate to me better. The team is so amazing… Jamie, Josh & Elizabeth, Adria, Brian & Dawn, Lindsey, Mike and the Frat Boys, David — whew, you should here David’s story! It would make your "eyes water" with joy and amazement at what God does in people’s lives.

And I’m working at the SBC offices, dad. I may not be overseas anymore… at least not for now, but you can still be proud that I’m continuing the "family business", as it were. I know that’s not a prerequisite you had to be proud of me… but I saw how my being a missionary caused you to puff out your chest just a little more than usual when you introduced me…. You’d be proud of where I work, of what I’m doing.

Adria browned butter a couple of nights ago, mom, and suddenly our apartment smelled like home. The aroma hung in the air for hours… next to Channel #5, the perfume of cooking was your best fragrance. How I miss our kitchen conversations! How I miss the hugs and tears and love we shared!

I miss your laughter! I miss dad teasing you; dad and I ganging up on you and giving you the willies over dad’s eye twitch. I miss hearing you say, in your best fake put-out voice, "Oh, you two!"

Where are you? Is Heaven pretty? Do you even know I’m gone? Do you even notice my absence surrounded by such glory and beauty?

Your absence cannot help but be noticed. I trip over it every day of my life. life. I hope you are happy. I hope heaven is all we’ve been promised it is. It will make all this pain worth it.

I miss you, mom. I miss you, dad. I love you both so very much. Remember me.

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Pro-Life From The Other Side of The Stage

debg: The semantic I hate the most

I ran across a blog of an author I used to hang out with ages ago.  A self-proclaimed pagan, you wouldn’t think we’d have much of a chance of getting along… But truth be told, I liked her a lot, and rather admired her as well. I counted myself blessed that she accepted me as a friend even though I disagreed with pretty much everything she believed in. Not everyone does that. Christians, in fact, are the worst I’ve found at this. I’ve met many self-proclaimed Christians in my life who could all tie as the least tolerant people I’ve ever met. Sad, sad, shame. They look nothing at all like the Christ they are named for….

When I met Deb  I was still rather young — in my mid-to-late 20s — and still trying to figure out how to be a woman in this wild new world beyond school and mom and dad’s house.  Deb was a few years older, so I felt like a young apprentice at times, learning how to be a strong woman at the feet of a mighty warrior…. It wasn’t what she stood for that I admired so much — nor do I believe she admired me for what I stood for. I admired her for the guts she had to stand tall regardless what others said or thought. To stay true to her convictions, embrace and own them, believe them with all her heart and live them out no matter the personal cost.

Granted, it’s a lot easier for her to "stand tall" as an ultra liberal living in San Francisco… šŸ™‚

Anyway, I ran across this rant on Pro-Life she posted shortly after the latest presidential debate (which, by the way, put me to sleep about halfway through). I love reading stuff like this; hearing what others who think very differently than me feel about things. It intrigues me, and gets all the wheels and gears going in my mind as to why they believe that… I want to crawl inside their heads and see the world the way they see it…

There was a long time when I was pro-choice, or perhaps it might be better said, pro-limited-choice and/or pro-abortion in certain cases (like rape, incest, etc)… and for me, the lines around this issue are still blurry. I’m still stumbling around it, looking for God’s clear opinion on it…

And I have to admit, I have also questioned the validity of the language used surrounding this issue. I think most of us use inflammatory language far too much for anyone’s good… whether we actually mean to inflame or not. I think Christians are sometimes the guiltiest of all in this regard. We can be so incredibly insensitive to the culture around us and, in the end, we’ve shot ourselves badly in both feet too many times to count.

Now, don’t get the wrong idea. I believe fervently in the sanctity of human life. I believe the magic of life begins the moment of conception, and abortion for convenience’ sake is abhorrent. I think abortion is a tragedy of idolatry. We no longer sacrifice our newborns to idols, now we sacrifice our unborn to idols of ourselves. And I think that’s incredibly sad.

But I can also see very clearly that our — meaning the conservative and Christian communities — current method of dealing with, and ending, this tragedy isn’t working. As Dr. Phil says, "how’s that workin’ for ya…?" Well, sir, it ain’t.

Perhaps it’s time to try a new approach….

Before you read Deb’s journal entry, remember the signs posted at the beach when no life guard is present:

                                           Enter at your own risk. šŸ™‚

She’s a very cool woman, but also a self-proclaimed pagan. Her language may offend some; her topic and arguments may offend others. But this is the world we live in. Deb isn’t an anomaly, she’s the norm. I just wanted to bring a bit of that into my little corner of the Internet (or is that innernets… geez-louise Dubya, did your brain disengage from your mouth or something…????)

I loved Deb years ago. I love her now. I love everyone like her!  They bring spice and electricity into every relationship. And I want to find every way I can to bring God’s spicy, electric, magical unexplainable love to every one of them! I want to drench them, not in political rhetoric or inflammatory arguments, but drench them with Love.

What amazing people God creates! How can I help them see how Amazing HE is?

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The Best Birthday Present

I’m in South Carolina this week, celebrating my birthday with my sister and her family.

I love my family! I love my sister!! We used to fight like crazy when we were kids. Only 3 1/2 years apart… maybe that was the problem… or at least part of it. We are very different in many ways. And yet so alike in others.

The deaths of mom and dad have pulled us much closer together. Where I used to lean on dad, or call him, I now call Nina — and visa versa. She and I have talked more, shared more intimately and really listened to each other more than we ever have in our lives. What an amazing gift she is too me! And all these years, I never even knew what I had. Until now.

Being born into this family is the greatest gift God could ever have given me. Dad, with his sense of humor, sense of honor, and strong, deep commitment to Jesus. Mom with her deep, spiritual connection to God, her love and passion for all people, her laughter and willingness to be driven to tears because of love. Paula, my oldest sister, 19 years older than me, with her strong values and commitment to live them out no matter what people think. Vic, my precious only brother, 16 years older than me, with his passion for life and drive to live it out with integrity. Nina, with her passion for people, her nurturing spirit and a heart always open and willing to love, no matter what it costs her.

Then there’s my brothers-in-law, my sister-in-law, my nieces (4) and nephews (3), even great-nieces (2) and great-nephews (3).

With out these people in my life, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I don’t know who I’d be, or what I’d look like… and frankly, at this point in my life, I don’t care.

I like who I am. I like who I am becoming. And I know I am blessed by God. His gift of family to me was the best, most amazing birthday gift I’ve ever gotten. I’ll be unwrapping it for the rest of my life.

Thank You, God!