Rising Above SEE Level

This morning I am thinking about how, when I was a little girl, I used to love to lie down on the grass in the yard and look up at the sky.  I watched the clouds forming and transforming into various shapes, driven by the unseen wind.  With my eyes scanning the vast expanse, I tried to fathom just how high and how wide it must be.  Beyond the immeasurable blue veil, I envisioned that there was a glorious place I had been taught about called Heaven.  And I would speak from my heart to the awesome God Who created all things, as far as my eyes could see and beyond.  I talked to God about everything.  It never occurred to me that any concern or request might be too silly, too small, or too big to share.  For instance I remember once praying for my puppy to be healed because he was very sick, and I didn’t want him to die.  I was fully convinced that God was real, that He knew me, that He cared about me, and that He was great enough to do absolutely anything.  It was as simple as that.  I must confess, however, that it didn’t stay that way.  Truthfully, my faith walk got to be ridiculously complicated over the years.  As I reflect on the possible reasons, it all seems to come down to this—my focus shifted from God to myself.  I spent less and less time praying and trusting, but more and more time trying to figure and work things out on my own.  Gradually and increasingly, I bought into the faulty idea that there was a dichotomy between spiritual things (which God cared about) and all the other stuff (which I needed to handle).  Moreover, I abandoned the practice of diligently seeking an invisible God as I adopted a mindset of “seeing is believing.”  Rather than walking by faith, most of my decisions and actions were based on what I could see with my natural eyes.  But lots of times, what I could see definitely did not lead to believing.  Instead it led to fear, confusion and discouragement.  Today my faith has been quickened upon hearing this precious, loving exhortation in my spirit:  “Trust Me.  Every sincere desire of your heart will be realized, the more you rise above SEE level.”  I know exactly what this means.  It means I am being called to a revival of childlike trust, through which I am convinced that God is real, that He knows me, that He cares about me, and that He is great enough to do absolutely anything...if I will just BELIEVE.  Right now, I believe I am going to find someplace with a view of the sky.                       

I Don't Know

This morning I am thinking about the conversation I had with my sister yesterday.  Typically, any time we spend together primarily involves much fun and much laughter…the kind of laughter that leaves me breathless and wiping tears from my eyes, as I struggle to regain my composure.  My sister has a bluntness about her that still sometimes catches me by surprise.  She has always been a no-nonsense, “take no prisoners” kind of woman who is often amused by my sentimentality.  But yesterday was a bit different.  She had called to tell me she needed to talk to me about something.  From the outset of the conversation, I perceived a hint of tentativeness in her, a hesitation that was quite uncharacteristic.  As she began to open up and disclose what was on her heart, it became abundantly clear that she was not talking to me as her little sister.  Rather, she was sharing and confiding in me as a friend.  Moreover, she was seeking my perspective and guidance.  There came a point in the conversation when she asked, “What would you do?”  The moment was awkward and surreal.  My answer was, “I don’t know.”  There was my chance to be the sage, the one who was practical and self-assured, but all I could come up with was “I don’t know.”  Instead of trying to make up answers I really didn’t have, I just told her the truth.  I shared with her some of the things I have learned and insights I have gained in my journey of faith, particularly over the past two years.  One thing I wanted to make abundantly clear was that I am still learning.  Every day I make a choice to believe that God is, and that He lovingly orders the course of my life.  Still, I don’t always get it right.  I make mistakes.  But I have learned that my power lies in the choices I make and the actions I take after the mistakes.  I will receive wisdom and understanding from disappointments of the past, but I will not allow those disappointments to infect or affect my faith and confidence moving forward.  After I spoke, she responded by saying, “I love you.  And if I were gay, I would marry you.”  Yep, the bluntness was still there.  We laughed, as we shared a big sisterly hug.  As for what she will decide to do, I don’t know.  But I do know that by God’s grace she will be okay.                     

Inside Out

This morning I am thinking about a friend who shared with me that she once walked around most of the day at work with her dress turned inside out.  Somehow, she hadn’t noticed this when she left home.  What really intrigued me was hearing about the reaction of people she encountered throughout the day.  In particular, there were several who told her how nice she looked and what a pretty dress it was!  Eventually, though, one of her friends told her, “Your dress is inside out.”  Although she was initially embarrassed, she was quite thankful.  I can only speculate about the reason only one person called the faux pas to my friend’s attention.  Perhaps there were some who really didn’t notice.  Possibly there were others who did notice, but they just didn’t want to hurt her feelings.  On the other hand, there may have been some who thought that’s the way the dress was supposed to be.  Whatever the case, it makes me reflect on those days and times when I’ve walked around inside out.  Not in the sense of my physical wardrobe, but with my actions and attitudes.  My desire and intention is to always step out clothed in kindness, wisdom, patience, joy, and other garments representative of the God I profess to represent.  But, oh, there is a flip side to these characteristics and I have admittedly sported many of them from time to time.  Sometimes I have gone a whole day—or maybe even several days—improperly clad in gossip, cynicism, pettiness, and foolish pride.  Perhaps there are some who didn’t notice.  (This makes me cringe.)  Perhaps there are others who did notice, but they just didn’t want to hurt my feelings.  (This makes me sad.)  And, there may be some who believed that’s the way I’m supposed to be.  (This makes me horrified!)  At the end of the day, though, I have a Friend who will call me out and tell me the truth.  He reminds me to take time to look in the mirror of His Word throughout the day, so I can see when something is not quite right.  He reassures me that when I find myself inside out, all is not lost.  By His grace I can change…be transformed…be renewed.  For this, I give thanks.  Amen.                

    

After The Makeover

This morning I am thinking about the time I surprised my brother, Andy, with an “extreme makeover” of his home office.  I had been contemplating it for weeks, and I wanted it to be a big surprise.  It worked to my advantage that he had previously arranged to be in New York for a few days to visit some of our relatives.  So, after I dropped him off at the airport, I quickly headed back to his house and let myself in with my spare key.  He’d just recently had repairs done to the roof, but water damage had taken a great toll in the office, his favorite room.  In the process of making repairs, the ceiling had been torn down.  A sole light bulb peered down at me, protruding from one of the exposed beams.  With absolutely no insulation, the summer heat made the room almost unbearably warm.  Crisscross wood bones played peek-a-boo behind gaping holes in the drywall.  His many, many books were stacked everywhere…on the floor, on chairs, on his desk, and some actually on shelves.  As I surveyed the space, I began to catch a vision of how the room would be after the makeover. 

I solicited the help of my friends Angie and Cliff (and their cousin Willie, who happened to be a contractor).  After two days, the office had been beautifully transformed!  The ceiling featured a lovely fan and light fixture.  Cool air flowed into the room through the now-enclosed vent.  All four walls, notably free of any gaping holes, were freshly painted and trimmed in the earth colors he loved.  His books were neatly organized, some by subject and some by author, on bookcases.  New blinds dressed the windows, and a new area rug covered the de-cluttered floor.  A cozy chair was situated so he could read, watch television, or just sit and listen to music.  Pictures of family and friends accented his desk, where his laptop sat with the printer and fax machine close by.  As exciting and rewarding as it was just taking in all the remarkable changes, the best part was seeing his reaction when he came home.  To say that he was surprised would be an understatement.  He was absolutely delighted!  I remember him calling me later that night and saying, “Guess where I am.”  Playing along, I asked, “Where?”  There was so much joy in his voice as he said, “I’m sitting in my new office!”  I was so happy for him. 

Today I am imagining the extreme makeover my brother experienced when he entered heaven a little over a year ago.  Somewhat like the water damage to his home, cancer had wreaked havoc on his body (or his “earthly tabernacle,” as he would call it).  I can vividly remember the pain of watching his body gradually and continually dissolve into greater disrepair.  But today I am giving thanks for a vision of what he became after the Makeover…after weak, corruptible flesh gave way to eternal, glorious spirit…after death was swallowed up by Life.  It all started a couple of months ago, when I was cleaning out my Yahoo mailbox.  I was quite shocked when I came across an email from Andy.  The subject of the email was “I’m In Heaven,” and it was dated September 27, 2011…the day after he got to see his home office makeover.  In the email were the words: “Dearest little sister, Thanks for reviving my spirit. I feel like I'm back to myself again. I'm on the road again. Love you much, Big Brother.”  Coincidence?  Not a chance.  It is a sure sign that after the Makeover he is now strong, whole, and truly alive.  And I am so happy for him. 

                            

Mic'd Up

This morning I am thinking about how much I enjoy “Mic’d Up,” a feature of NFL games in which one of the active players wears a live microphone.  I find that it enhances my viewing experience as I get a glimpse into the confidence, frustration, jubilation, and a myriad of other emotions that are revealed during the course of a game.  I sometimes wonder how closely the words of the mic’d up players align to the things they might say if they were not wearing a microphone.  I wonder if they weigh their words more carefully, knowing that they are open to the scrutiny of a national audience.  One question I’m asking myself today is, “How differently would I speak if I were mic’d up, and others could hear everything I say in the course of this day?”  No doubt, there are some things I might typically share with my closest, most intimate friends that I’d refrain from saying if I knew others were listening.  No doubt.  But another question I’m asking myself today is, “How differently will I speak, knowing that I really am mic’d up (in a sense) at all times?”  I have come to understand that, even if no one else hears the words I say, I hear them.  This applies to both my external and internal dialogues, both those things I say out loud and those things I only speak within the secret place of my heart.  And, oh, the power of my words!  The extent to which they are lauded and embraced, or despised and rejected by others, is really not the point.  What really matters is that my words determine what manifests in my life, for better or for worse.  My words may never be open to the scrutiny of a national audience, but they profoundly and directly shape the course of my world.  So, as I go forth mic’d up into this blessed new day, it is with a determination to create a narrative of peace, light, and wholeness in every circumstance.  May all who are listening (especially me) hear words of truth, wisdom, hope, and love…words of Life.  

A Healing Place

This morning I am thinking about the deeply touching words a colleague shared at work yesterday afternoon.  It was during a staff meeting, and someone had posed the question to all of us:  “What is the best thing about working here?”  Most everyone talked about the people, the collegiality, the support, and the sense of family.  Someone said that it’s knowing she can just be herself, and another person said it’s the focus on serving our schools and students.  But, it was as though a still fell over the room when the last person spoke to the question.  She said, “To me, this is a healing place.”  I listened as this woman spoke from her heart.  This woman, who has battled cancer and is dealing with other serious health issues.  This woman, who is the primary caregiver for her aged and feeble parents.  This woman, who regularly finds herself having to act as mediator in conflicts between siblings, nieces, and nephews.  Before I knew it, my eyes were filled and running over with tears.  With such gentle power, her words gave me a much needed shaking…a shaking that caused some things to be loosed and fall away from me.  Namely, it was the rubbish of impatience and cynicism that had subtly begun to accumulate and attach themselves to my heart and mind.  I really needed to hear those words!  Not only did they refocus me on purpose, but they reminded me that one of the deepest desires of my heart is just this: to be a healing place.  How grateful I am for those whose lives and friendship have been a healing place for me.  Likewise, I want to live and love in such a way that I will be a conduit of peace, joy, hope, and strength to others.  And, so shall it be.    

The Zeros

This morning I am thinking about the “zeros” in my life.  I’m speaking of the boneheaded decisions, the colossal screw-ups, and the epic fails that ultimately resulted in nothing fruitful.  To use a math analogy, I have come to see that these zeros are much like empty placeholders in my memory and experience.  In math, it matters greatly where one chooses to place zeros in a number.  Likewise, it matters greatly where I choose to position life’s zeros in my heart, mind, and soul as I move forward into my destiny.  First, it is absolutely critical that I perceive myself as a whole number, rather than a decimal.  When I take on a decimal perspective, I continually think of myself as less than what I am meant to be (weak, incomplete and unfulfilled, broken).  If I am decimal-minded, I tend to keep my zeros ever before me.  I will rehearse and rehash them.  And, the more zeros I place before me, the more I decrease.   Conversely, when I understand and accept myself as whole (strong, forgiven and forgiving, healed, capable), I am wise to put all my zeros behind me.  That is, I am able to acknowledge that they happened, but they no longer drive or dictate my thoughts and behavior.  And, just like in math, the more zeros I put behind me, the more I continue grow. 

Side note:  Whenever God blesses my life with the gift of other people, I now know that we can take our collective zeros and place them, not in front or between, but behind us.  In doing so, we can grow together!