The Right Doors

This morning I am thinking about the time my niece had a bit of a mix-up while looking for my sister’s house.  In all fairness, some of the houses on my sister’s street look an awful lot alike.  When she and her husband first moved there, I admit that I got confused a few times.  Quite a few times.  The more I visited them, however, the easier it became.  I learned to look for distinctive features and characteristics of my sister’s house that the other houses didn’t have, such as my brother-in-law’s masterful landscaping.  I also learned to notice subtle differences about the other houses that let me know they weren’t my sister’s house, such as the design of walkways, porches, or windows.  Anyway, on that particular day, my sister called my niece and told her to come over.  She had something special she wanted to give my great-niece for her birthday.  So, my niece packed the kids in the car and headed over.  When they didn’t arrive within an expected time frame, my sister became concerned.  She looked out the window and was surprised to see my niece’s car parked in the driveway of a neighbor.  She was even more surprised to see my great-niece ringing the neighbor’s doorbell.  With a quick call to my niece’s cell phone, she was able to direct them to the right house.  Two things strike me about this.  The first thing is that, although my niece may have gotten mixed up, she was only there because she was seeking something that had been promised.  The second thing is, chances are slim to none that my niece would have received what my sister had promised at any of the neighbor’s houses, no matter how similar they looked.  This makes me reflect on my own experiences of parking in wrong driveways and knocking on wrong doors.  I’m not speaking of literal houses.  Rather, I am speaking of those persons, places and things to which I’ve mistakenly sought to gain access while acting in sincere faith, based on promises in God’s Word.  I have to say that those persons, places, and things really LOOKED right!  So, there I’d be just knocking away.  How thankful I am that, in faithfulness, God is always looking out for me!  He calls to me, in the depths of my spirit, at those times when I get lost.  I am grateful for how He lovingly directs me away from what seems right to what is right, so I can receive the special blessings He has prepared and intended just for me.  A lesson for me today is that, just as I did with my sister’s house, I can learn to discern the qualities and characteristics of God’s leading that are distinctive from everything else.  And the more time I invest in seeking Him, the better I am becoming at recognizing the right doors. 

Blessed to Receive

This morning I am thinking about the lesson my 14-month-old grandson taught me, with a show of compassion and a cookie.  When I gave him the cookie, he didn’t start to munch on it right away as he usually would.  Instead, he held the cookie in his hand and followed me into the living room.  When I sat down on the sofa, he stood in front of me and lifted his arms.  That’s his way of saying, “Pick me up.”  I scooped him up, of course, and sat him on my lap.  Then I settled back, holding him close.  I had a lot on my mind, much that needed to be sorted out.  I sought a temporary stay from having to deal with it by flipping on the television, but I couldn’t focus.  My heart was too heavy.  After a few minutes, I realized that my grandson was staring at me.  And he still had not taken a bite of the cookie.  “Are you going to eat your cookie?” I asked him.  His response was this:  With his little hand, he broke off a piece of the cookie and stuck it in my mouth!  It was so completely unexpected.  At first I just sat there, staring back at him.  He had a most peculiar expression on his face, a mix of concentration and concern, as if to say, “Well, go ahead and eat it.”  So, I did.  I made a big deal of it, too, saying, “Mmmmmm” as I chewed.  His sweet face relaxed into a beautiful grin.  Then he broke off another piece of cookie and fed it to me.  He fed me, piece by piece, until the cookie was all gone.  Not even one bite did he take for himself.  Later, during my quiet time, a precious and profound thought was impressed upon me:  “You have been saying and praying that you are ready to receive love, but you need to learn how.  The man God has prepared for you is a giver.  You need to learn how to receive.”  I guess that sounds simple enough, but for me it was really not that simple at all.  After some soul searching, I realized that when I give, I feel purposeful, strong, and empowered.  When it comes to receiving, on the other hand, I feel a sense of vulnerability, maybe even weakness.  It makes me question the giver’s motives and prompts me to immediately start trying to figure out how I can reciprocate.  What’s kind of sad is that I justified this way of thinking with the scripture, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”  I must note that it clearly does not say, “It is only blessed to give.”  Honestly, it’s not that I was so devout anyway.  I was really just trying to protect my heart.  I had been blind to this, and I might have remained so were it not for the loving act of my grandson that night.  I am thankful for the lesson he introduced.  Moreover, I am thankful for the sweet practice assignments I have been given: 1) to demonstrate understanding that it is also blessed to receive and 2) to open my heart to being loved.                                

I Believe Him

This morning I am thinking about the day I learned I was pregnant with my daughter, Ari.  I had not been feeling well at all for a few days, so I’d gone to see my doctor.  Initially, I was diagnosed as having food poisoning…perhaps something I had eaten at a recent Fourth of July picnic.  As a precaution, however, he had me to provide samples for further testing.  I was given a prescription and sent home to get some sleep.  Within twenty-four hours, I received a phone call with startling news that definitely woke me up.  “The doctor wants you to stop taking that medication immediately,” the nurse said.  “You’re pregnant.”  If I thought I’d felt sick before, it was nothing compared to the punch in the gut I felt upon hearing those words.  I was living with my brother, Andy, at the time.  But he wasn’t at home when I got the call.  So, there I was… alone, stunned, shaking.  And I started to cry.  I thought back to the day a couple of months earlier, when my ex-boyfriend had come to town for my college graduation.  We were still friends, he’d said, and he wouldn’t have missed my graduation.  After making the rounds to a few post-graduation festivities, he drove me back to my brother’s house.  We sat in the car talking for a bit.  Then he said, “It’s still early.  You want to do something?”  “Sure,” I agreed. “Just let me change.”  I went into the house and re-emerged donned in some comfy jeans and a T-shirt, then off we went.  We ended up at the beach, and I suppose it goes without saying what the “something” was we ended up doing. 

Anyway, the first person I called was my mom.  I was sobbing as I relayed the news to her, and she came over right away.  She did her best to console me while the two of us waited for my brother to come home.  When he finally got there, I couldn’t bear to look at him.  I knew I deserved whatever wrath he might unleash, because it was my own deliberate choices that put me in the situation.  I was twenty-two years old, I had no job, I had no husband, and I had no idea what I would be like as a mother.  But if Andy felt anything other than love and compassion for me in that moment, he certainly didn’t show it.  He held me tightly as I cried.  He cried, too.   And he told me it was going to be alright.  I didn’t know how it would be alright.  Nevertheless, I believed him. 

Ari is now a beautiful, twenty-six year old woman.  I watched and listened yesterday as she and her husband interacted with each other and their two young sons.  My heart was filled with joy and gratitude to witness the tenderness, affection, laughter, and love.  I can see that it absolutely did turn out alright!  This encourages my heart today, for there are other times when I find myself broken and feeling lost, in the midst of circumstances which are a result of deliberate choices I’ve made.  At such times I struggle to pray, fearing that yet another failure must certainly exceed the limits of God’s grace.  I brace myself for some kind of divine smack upside the head, but instead I find His arms of love and compassion encompassing me.  He holds me tightly as I cry, and He tells me it’s going to be alright.  I don’t always see how it will be alright.  Nevertheless, I believe Him.  I know that in the very best of times and through the very worst of times, God has proven His faithfulness more often than I can even recall.  I believe His Word that all things (even the things that don’t look good or feel good) are working together for my good.  Yes, I believe Him.                         

             

As Far As I Know

This morning I am thinking about the wonderful time I had reading to some precious preschoolers last Monday.  While engaging in small talk with one class, a little girl shared with me that she was four years old.  Another child said, “I’m four, too!”  Then, almost in chorus, several others chimed in, “I’m four, too,” with some holding up four fingers to show me.  They eyed me curiously when I said, “Well, I’m not four.”  One brave soul asked, “How old are you?”  Just for fun, I answered her question with a question:  “How old do you think I am?”  I was charmed and amused when a few of them guessed that I was about five or six.  But, then, one brave little boy shouted out confidently, “You’re seventeen!”  I have to say, I got up from my chair and gave that child a high five.  Although he was off by a few decades, I got the idea that his sense of number may have been a bit more developed than the others.  He knew I had to be much older than five or six, and as far as he knew seventeen was a pretty big number!  I find it’s not so unusual for very young children to base such estimates on their egocentric frame of reference.  All they have to rely on, after all, is the benchmark of their limited experience.  What occurs to me is that I tend to do the same thing when it comes to my walk of faith.  Somewhat like the question I posed to that class of four-year-olds, there are questions presented to me by my great and awesome God when I pray:  “How mighty do you think I AM?  How much do you think I love you?  How far do you think I will go to prove that I AM faithful?”  Quite honestly, my answers are often based on my own limited frame of reference…that is, the things I’ve experienced in my life thus far.  With certain prayers and petitions I’ve made to God, I felt like I was stretching my faith, vision and imagination to the max.  As far as I know, those were some pretty bold requests!  But, I’m smiling right now as I imagine God giving me a high five and saying, “Nice try, but you are WAY off!”  I am filled with a sense of excitement and wonder as I perceive that the things He has purposed for me to be, to know, to have, and to do far exceed anything I have experienced yet.  So, my heartfelt prayer today is that my eyes will be opened.  As far as I know, I have been incredibly blessed, and I am truly thankful.  Still, I don’t have to be bound by the benchmark of my current experience.  By faith, I desire to see and embrace what lies beyond the pain, the disappointments, the doubts and, yes, even beyond the pleasures, the successes, and the joys I have known so far.  Beyond what I know or have ever imagined, even greater things await me.  I am ready to receive.                                        

Approaching Magnificent

I am thinking about the bumper sticker I saw on a car the other day.  It said: “If some things get better with time, then I must be approaching magnificent!”  I so appreciate the wit and wisdom of people who come up with things like that.  I enjoy trying to imagine the context or conversations from which such clever, humorous thoughts emerge.  Of course I can’t always know the full backstory, but one thing seems apparent.  Some people truly have a gift for putting a spotlight on the positives and the possibilities, regardless of their circumstances.  As I prepare for this day, I am embracing awareness that I also have the power to frame my point of view in such a way.  Truthfully, I sometimes become discouraged when certain hopes, dreams, and desires that I hold in my heart are deferred and delayed.  But, what a revelation this silly bumper sticker has given.  In placing my focus solely on the passing of time, I miss out on something truly wonderful.  That is, I am getting better!  With each passing moment, day, week, and year, I am growing into the fullness of the woman I was created to be.  It is really true.  As I look back, I can see how the fruit of my immaturity...selfishness, impatience, ignorance, anxiety, and a judgmental spirit...are slowly falling away with every passing season.  Such fruit was so small, hard, and unpalatable.  I'm glad to see it go.  In their place, I see the sweet, wholesome fruit of peace, wisdom, kindness, and joy developing.  Yes, I'm getting better.  In fact, I'm approaching magnificent!  And with the manifestation of my hopes and dreams, I will be perfectly prepared to receive.

My Momma Don't Say That

This morning I am thinking about the day I spent helping out in a kindergarten classroom.  At Read-Aloud time, the eighteen students gathered on a colorful rug, where they sat cross-legged in front of their teacher.  The story she had selected was about a little boy who was lonely at school because he didn’t have any friends.  As the story unfolded, it became apparent that the primary reason why he wasn’t making friends was that he spent all of his free time inside his house watching television and playing video games.  At one point in the story, the little boy’s mother tells him to turn off the TV and go outside to play.  Here, the teacher paused and asked, “How many of your moms say that?”  Only two hands went up.  The teacher seemed a bit surprised.  She then probed a bit.  “Doesn’t your mom tell you to go outside and play sometimes?”  Eighteen sweet little faces stared back at her in silence.  A few shook their heads, indicating a “no.”  The teacher just smiled and went on reading the rest of the story.  One little boy really caught my attention, though.  When those two questions were posed by the teacher, he looked around at his classmates.  The expression on his face was almost pained, reflecting absolute puzzlement.  Finally, he made eye contact with me.  I smiled and gave him a wink.  He scooted over and sat next to me on the rug, and he whispered, “My momma don’t say that.”  I just rubbed his back and whispered back, “Okay.”  But inside I wasn’t okay.  I was so hoping the teacher might stop and say or do something to help the children make meaning of this part of a story, which clearly was not consonant with their own experience.  I was hoping she might start by asking, “Why do you think his mom might want him to go outside and play?”  Then the dialogue and learning could go from there.  Certainly I understand the risk of asking questions like that with little children.  Asking questions like that can take a lesson completely off script.  The answers children give sometimes uncover things a teacher, quite frankly, doesn’t know.  Other times, their answers reveal things a teacher really doesn’t want to know.  But their answers can also raise awareness of things a teacher really needs to know…things she may have never considered…things that might give insight into more effective ways to help students learn and understand.  Anyway, this is causing me to examine the ways I sometimes “stick to a script” in my dealings with people, too.  I sometimes operate from mental lesson plans that I expect to go a certain way.  In doing so, I act or speak with an expectation of the “appropriate” way others should act or speak in response, based on my experience and my agenda.  I don’t always approach interactions and conversations with a mindset that I might actually have something to learn that will radically challenge (or perhaps change) my perceptions, and maybe even my agenda.  Certainly I understand the risk of approaching life this way.  Not everyone thinks the way I think.  And not everyone’s momma says the things my momma would say.  Being open to understanding and learning from the diverse experiences and perspectives of others can really take me off my script.  Yet, my best relationships—whether as a mother, a sister, a teacher, a colleague, or a friend—are those in which I recognize that I am not the only one with a lesson to teach or a story to tell.  My best relationships are the ones in which I recognize that I must sometimes assume the posture and perspective of another so that respect, appreciation, enlightenment, and mutual understanding can be ever flourishing.  I’ll take that over a script any time.                

Wealthy

This morning I am thinking about how my life would change if I were to become wealthy.  I’m talking about having seriously deep-pocketed, constantly replenishing, over-the-top, rollin’ in it, wealth.  I see myself hooking up family and close friends with homes and cars, and paying off debts.  I envision making generous donations to my church and to other charitable organizations that are near and dear to my heart.  I imagine taking incredible, fun vacations.  And I fancy being able to indulge in regularly scheduled pampering, complete with massage, mani, pedi, facial, and hairstyling, all to be topped off with clothes and shoe shopping.  It strikes me as significant that whenever I imagine being wealthy, my thoughts almost immediately go to the tangible things I could have or obtain.  While I can easily picture how things around me would be different, I don’t usually take time to ponder how (or if) I might be different…on the inside, where it really matters.  Well, a sweet message is stirring in my heart, filling me with pure joy, and bringing a smile to my face.  The message is simply this:  You are wealthy.  And I realize it’s true, as I contemplate treasures of song and story and laughter.  I know it’s true as I reflect on priceless lessons about integrity, commitment, and faith.  I am convinced that it’s true, as I consider precious, lasting bonds of love and friendship that encompass me.  These intangible riches are all mine.  They are deep-rooted, having been planted in my life over years and generations.  They are continually flourishing and reproducing.  So the question is, how will I use my wealth to make a difference in my world today?  Quite frankly, I want to flaunt it!  I want to leverage my riches to bless the lives of those around me with beauty, peace, joy, and healing.  Moreover, I want to know that these riches are shaping me and making me whole.  Sure, there are some tangible riches I may never have.  But in terms of wealth, what I would love to have is not nearly as important as what I want to be.  A woman who is beautifully rich on the inside…where it really matters.