The "Heartbeat" of the Church

I am often amazed, as I walk out of church on Sunday morning, how often the message is something I had just been studying or the scripture is one that I had just read sometime that week. After all, how many thousands of verses are there in the bible to be read and yet over and over again, the pastor's message will be on the same subject that Gregg and I have been discussing throughout the week. It really shouldn't be that surprising. After all, God talks to us daily about the things we need to hear or learn, to help us grow. But what does amaze me, is that He seems to be talking to the people within my circle about the same things. It's like, finally, we are all on the same page together. We all come from different places...we all have different stories...but we are finally bringing them all to the same table!
It's been a long time coming, but I believe we are finally in tune to the same heartbeat. Let me explain...I guess I see it like there is this great concert that we are all to be performing in....and we have this fantastic new tune that no one has ever heard before, so we, the fellow musicians, each bring our instrument to the concert hall, and began tuning up. We don't sound like much when we are working alone, but we each have our part to play and contribute to the making of a masterpiece. The drums don't sound all the melodious when they are played by themselves. The flutes, although quite pretty, can only make their own sound. The horns alone can be sort of boring. In order to successfully play the new song, every musician, with his own instrument, must work together...they must read the notes, that have been penciled on paper by the master composer. But even them, the key is not in the playing of the instruments together, in the right key, at the right time....No! The hauntingly beautiful music only really works if it is played with the same HEARTBEAT! This is the common denominator that must be present to make the song really work. The director takes his place on the podium, raises his baton, and leads the music out of them. And when they understand his heart and the places he wants to lead them, they don't hold back...they give him their all, and together, they perform the music exactly how the composer had dreamed. Perfection!
Like a beautiful concerto or symphony....the music is only great when everyone does his or her part.
I guess, that is how I have been seeing "the church" lately. We have the gift of a beautiful piece of music handed to the director by the composer. The director only has the written "word" to go by, but must take all of the musicians, utilize and fine-tune their skills and abilities, and produce "the heartbeat" of the composed song. How close to the composer's intent, depends so much upon the director.
God, the composer, has given us the song! We have one of the most skillful directors, Pastor D, that I have ever had the fortune to sit under! I've met the fellow musicians, and they are all equipped with their own instruments. We gather each week to fine-tune and practice the piece. It's nearly time for the concert!!! The "heartbeat" of the performance is Jesus, who's own lifeblood quickens us to abundant life.
The practice is over....the performance time has arrived! Our "heartbeat" is almost in unison! The area is about to hear and receive the composer's finest song....created by the Master....entrusted to the director.....and presented to the world by "the glorious redeemed church". Be prepared for a standing ovation!!!

Wild Thing: Living the Intentional Life

"Wild thing...you make my heart sing...you make everything groovy! Wild Thing."

"Doing things on purpose"....sounds easy, doesn't it! You would think so. But lately I have been thinking about how mostly we live our daily lives habitually rather than intentionally.
Let me explain....
First, I will ask you a question. Have you ever been driving down the highway for several minutes then popped back into your own mind and wondered how in the heck you got where you are when you can't remember turning, steering, breaking for traffic, or much else, for that matter? It's like you are on automatic mode and you just do it robotically.
Well, that is what I find myself doing everyday, nearly 24 hours a day. I know...it's sad isn't it. We function on automatic and are habit driven. I get up...do the same stupid things daily...go to work...and although the tasks change somewhat, my mind just keeps on auto pilot. Back home from work and I plunk down in front of the computer or television so I don't have to think...(and although I think zombies are kind of popular right now, I really don't enjoy being one.) Shoveling food into a mouth that doesn't taste and barely takes time to chew...staring at brain dead movies that require no thought...
This is not living the way God purposed us to live. But let me tell you...being intentional takes work! You're brain has to be used...you have to make choices instead of being a creature of habit. In fact, being intentional means you HAVE to think ALL OF THE TIME!!!
Our pastor has been preaching to us about getting outside of the box. I think that this is one aspect of what he is talking about. Choices! We need to CHOOSE! I'm tired of taking the "easy" route...I'm ready to be more intentional.
So....where to start??
Today, I put my Netflix on hold! I'm going to make time for other things. I chose fruit and yogurt for lunch. I went out at six this morning and walked around my yard enjoying nature and listening to the birds. Sometimes...I choose to take a different route to get to work. When I had to shop at Walmart yesterday....I went in the opposite direction on purpose! lol. If I want chocolate, by golly, I'm going to taste it...instead of eating it without realizing I've gobbled up a one pound bag of M & M's without tasting a one! Before I answer Yes or No....I'm going to stop and pray about both answers and do what God tells me to do regardless of what people may think or say.
Okay...it might sound a little silly to you...but to me it's the beginning of the end. I have one foot over the edge of the box.....I'm escaping.....and when I get out of this stifling box.....I'm going to run free....I'm going to live the intentional life I was meant to live.
I sort of picture a wild cat being shut up in a box with the lid closed all day long and then finally someone opens the lid. WATCH OUT! That cat will come clawing and digging it's way out of that box to get loose. I am THE cat! I want out!
I have a musical button on my desk at work that when I push it, it plays Wild Thing. I'm going to push that button every morning as a sign that I'm on my way. I'm going to celebrate and embrace that wild side. It may be a little dangerous....but I really like what the author, CS Lewis says of Aslan in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Aslan is wild.
Our God is not tame, but He is a wild God! He does things that aren't expected. But He's very intentional! He's a little scary and very exciting...but, it's never dull or boring. That's how I want to live.
Intentional living.....goodbye box....hello...life! And someday...I hope someone pushes that button at my funeral....and Wild Thing starts playing to remind everybody to surrender to the "Call of the Wild" that is placed in each of our hearts....to live a little more daring and intentional for HIM!

It's Not Just For the Birds!

I'm an early riser because I'm usually at work by 7:00 am. This gives me just a little time to meditate and ponder on the things I need to accomplish in the day or to have a few moments of peace before the tranquility is shattered by the busyness of life. I really relish this time and I usually pour myself a big glass of orange juice, sit down in my chair and stare out of my picture window watching the birds enjoy their breakfast at my bird feeders. I never really thought about birds much, but as I got older, I began to understand why older people seem to enjoy them. So I guess I have also joined the ranks of an older person, because the lessons those little birds are teaching me are amazing.
Let me elaborate. If you watch birds long enough, you will begin to be able to tell them apart. They have personalities very similar to the larger two-legged species called man.
The flighty ones: they can never light in one place too long. They are skiddish when other "birds" are around and don't even seem to really be able to sit long enough to enjoy a good breakfast.
The bulles: Ah, yes. These "birds" are usually a bit larger and darker in nature than the others. They swoop in and scare all the others away, perch like they are the king of the feeder, dive bombing and pecking at all the others. They are intimidating to the littler species and know it. Half the time, they aren't even hungry, they just want to show the rest who runs the place.
The little sneakers: These little creatures hide in the branches and slowly inch their way toward the feeders. They slowly gain ground, and just when you think they might get a bite....something scares them back to the beginning and the inching ritual begins all over again.
The loud, nagging ones: They have to let everyone know they have arrived and are chatty and loud.
The teenagers: These little birds sport a white mohawk and feast under the feeders in small groups. They appear to be ADHD and definitely dance to the beat of a different drummer. They make you nervous.
The pompous male: He is brightly adorned and struts up and down the chain preening and showing off. He thinks all the women birds want him and he ruffles up and makes a spectacle of himself as the "ladies" ignore him.
The couples: There are always a few of these in the crowd. They only have eyes for each other and don't pay a whole lot of attention to anything that goes on around them.
The gluttons: These definitely enjoy a good, free buffet. They sit and eat constantly and even when they are full they carry off more to their nest.
The show-offs: These are the birds that hang upside down, walk tight wires and swing from their perches in forty mile an hour winds. It's amazing....they never fall off and they don't even have hands to hold on with.
The snobs: They grab what they need with their eyes on the sky and fly elsewhere to eat. Too good for the little people.
The annoying one: Okay...usually a woodpecker....tap, tap, taps that crazy tree until just about every bird is ready to kill him.
I guess that is just a sampling....I didn't even mention the frumpy ones, the dull ones, the crazy, suicidal ones (these usually take on the family cats), the lazy ones, or the joyous, singing ones.
By observing the different characteristics of the birds out my window, I have learned a great deal about people and the God who made them. I am amazed at His handiwork, and the bird is only one animal....look around at nature and you will discover hundreds upon thousands of intricately created little beings, all living out their lives, no matter how short or insignificant, oblivious to their surroundings, carrying out their own special purpose, created just for them, on this big, blue planet we call earth. How lucky we are to get to share it with such incredible wonders of God's creation.
How can you see these creatures and not believe in a Creator? But more importantly, how can you even begin to think that "you" are the center of this universe? Get over it! It's NOT ABOUT YOU! It's about the Master Sculptor displaying his beautiful works of art and handiwork in the museum of life for His glory and recognition. It's open all year round, 365 days a year. Take time to appreciate it in all it's majesty and magnificent splendor. Let all of creation praise His name!

Master Gardening 101

I have never had a green thumb. It's just a fact. I love green plants, flowers, and gardens, but they don't love me. I do have a knack at killing things, however. I over water...I under water...I don't like weeding...I plant too deep...They get too much sun....or too little sun....sometimes I think they just look at me and shrivel up and die to spite me. Last week, I forgot and left one of my house plants outside and the frost killed it. It takes patience to start a little seed, baby it, nurture it, and raise it up into a fine, healthy plant that produces fruit. Physically, I just don't seem to have that gift of knowing what it takes to be a master gardener.
Recently, however, I have been asking myself whether or not I have a "spiritual" green thumb. Can I plant, nurture, and harvest spiritual fruit? Am I patient enough to plant spiritual seeds? Determined enough to pull the weeds out of my own life and the lives of others to produce the spiritual yield necessary? Do I water the dry, parched souls with life giving water? Do I plant spiritual seeds that will take root and grow into strong, healthy plants capable of bearing an abundance of fruit?
I am amazed, when I watch the Master Gardener, Jesus, at work. He take even the tiniest seed and produces abundant foliage and growth in our lives. He takes the most wilted, barren, and nearly dead hearts and like magic, right before your eyes, produces a bouquet of blooms and blossoms that you never imagined could be replicated. He surprises you with beauty and abundance.
Developing into a spiritual gardener does not happen over night. It takes time, it takes the right tools, and it takes training and mentoring from the Master Gardener. You must plant what you want to harvest. You must never plant a seed expecting to harvest a fruit other than what you planted. Seeds produce after their own kind. A seed of forgiveness will harvest forgiveness. A seed of love will harvest love. You must discern the right planting times. You must familiarize yourself with the tools of the trade. You must be patient, for it takes time for the seed to sprout, and the sprout to grow and the bloom to set on, then the blossom to open, and finally the fruit to mature. But in due season, you will reap what was sown.
As we go throughout life on this amazing planet, we need to look at people as opportunities for us to practice are spiritual gardening skills. Maybe the garden hasn't been prepared or plowed. Maybe the weeds are choking out the little bit of green growth that is sprouting, maybe they just need watered or introduced to the Son. And maybe, just maybe if you're timing is right, you'll get the experience of harvesting some of the fruit others have planted and nurtured ahead of you. Then stand back and be amazed....you will see that it is quite possible that YOU do have a "spiritual" green thumb.

Sweet Aroma or Bitter Afterbite?

The other day, I had someone ask me if I knew a "certain person." I answered yes, but it had been over 10 years since I had seen them. They proceeded to tell me that "this" person thought I was one of the nicest people and that I had a "heart of gold" and so does my daughter. I must admit...I was overwhelmed by the comment and I think it was one of the nicest compliments I have been paid for a long time...especially coming from someone that I had not even seen or talked to for over ten years.
I pondered the idea that I had made a small impact on someone's life. I had apparently left a lasting impression on her...and I was totally oblivious to it. I began thinking about the fact that EVERY single person we come in contact with EVERY single day forms some kind of impression....either positive or negative and so I thought it would be interesting to analyze it a little deeper and decided it would be worth it to do a little critiquing of my own.
Have you ever wished that you could be a fly on the wall and actually hear what other people would have to say about you if they didn't know you were listening? What would these people have to say about you? (I know, I am a brute for punishment.) The biggest problem with this is that people are too nice or they are afraid to be honest to your face. We've been taught not to hurt each others' feelings. and truthfully...can you imagine some of the things you would have to come clean about if you HAD to answer others completely honest...

"Dude, you talk to much. You're driving me crazy!"
"Well, if you asked me a question, you could at least be polite enough to pretend you were listening to my answer."
"I don't really care about your great aunt's ingrown toenail!"
"T.M.I. I didn't really need to know that about you!"
"Listen to yourself and you'll understand why you don't have any friends."
"Is there ANYTHING you don't know everything about?"
"Really...that is NONE of your business."
"Bad things always happen to you because you reap what you sow, man. If I believed in karma you would be a bad karma magnet."
"Gripe...Gripe...Gripe. That's all you do."

So...I wondered....what would people say about me? It's really hard to analyze yourself when your oblivious to your own faults and weaknesses. So, I asked my family members. (Husband, kids, sister). Believe me...THEY can be brutally honest!
But, hey, if I'm really trying to grow and change...I guess I need to hear it. But did they have to gloat so much when they were telling me?

"You always think you are right."
"You are a conversation stealer."
"You interrupt people when they are talking."
"You answer for other people."
"You are a know-it-all."
"You're pretty opinionated."
"You have to have the last word."
"You're a better talker than listener."
"You don't finish things that you start."
"You think the world revolves around YOU."

Okay, I must admit that they came up with a very good list of all of my shortcomings, of which I've listed only a few. It would be impossible to work on EVERYTHING all at once.
So I challenged myself. If I could have only a few positive phrases spoken about me...that would leave a lasting impact on others, what phrases would mean the most? What lasting impressions would I most wish to leave to this world? If I encounter someone new, would I leave a sweet aroma or would I leave a bitter, unpleasing, after bite?
I guess, here are a few of the things I would like to have said about me and to be remembered by:

"Wasn't she passionate about Jesus Christ and her family?"
"Man, she could make me laugh."
"She really had a good heart."
"She was a very giving, generous person."
"I really believe that she cared about me."
"Her children all love the Lord."
"Remember when......"
"I'm going to miss her."
"She tried..."
"She loved life and enjoyed every minute of it."
"I'll never forget her."
"She had a heart of gold."

I know I have a lot of work ahead of me, but I hope if I meet you, I leave you with a good first impression....and if I don't, be kind and forgiving...we all have bad days!

Memories: Random Thoughts of Childhood

There is nothing better than reminiscing about the good old days....so here goes.

My grandparents on my Mom's side used to play a marble board game with us all the time. Pretty much like the aggravation game only we always had a homemade hand drilled board to play on. You would roll the dice and move or take off marbles. We would play as partners. I haven't thought about that game in years.

Do you remember the clackers? I don't know what they were really called, but that's what we called them. A string with a hard ball on both ends that you would clack up and down together. That's all they were good for...but hey, I had to have one.

We use to play a game on summer evenings where I would blindfold my sister and her friends then they would all hold hands and I would lead them around trying to mess them up and they would try to guess where they were at. Sometimes we'd pull them in a wagon we had covered with a blanket...and they would guess that way.

Every Sunday, my mom and dad would give us money to walk down town to buy some comic books and penny candy. As we grew older, we learned that they were trying to get rid of us for an hour or so for some romantic time. T-M-I.

Summer evenings were my favorite times and I would sit on my front porch at night and watch the cars go by (It didn't take much to entertain us back then.)

Do you remember all of the jump rope jingles. And Skateland. Now that was fun! Especially when they had couples only and some dorky boy would grab your hand to skate with you. We bowled for fun on Saturdays. We played pinball machines when we had money to waste.

We were as obsessed with Vampires as this group of teens are, only ours was Dracula and Dark Shadows. I remember one night they showed Dracula in our high school auditorium and then I had to walk all the way home afterwards. I would hit the viaduct running as fast as I could until I was almost home. I hated having to walk through that little viaduct at night. But we had to walk everywhere. Parents did not drive you anywhere...you walked. I do, however, remember a boy writing my initials and his with a heart around them with a sharp chalky rock in that little viaduct. Years later I looked for it...but they had painted over all of the graffiti. Actually, that little viaduct is where I learned some of my naughtiest words.

We had some of the best fun nights and penny carnivals. And the cake walks were always a big deal. I remember Audrey Summers would put nearly all of her kids on a spot so they could take home one of those yummy cakes. Mothers actually baked back then and those cakes were works of art!

Our basketball games were in Crawford's little auditorium. We had pep club and you had to go and cheer. I even made up some not so nice cheers about the cheerleaders who seemed to think they were all that.

We had one teacher...Mr. K....who would ask you if you wanted a knuckle sandwich. He would turn this big old ring upside down and bop you on the head with it. Or he'd take both arms and slam one on your front and one on your back sandwiching the boys really hard. I even remember when Mr. Smith took a blackboard eraser and threw it at a kid in the back of the room. It whizzed passed our heads and hit him a good one. Or he'd pick up the desk with the kid still in it and drop it hard to the floor giving the kid a good jolt. Mr. D would call naughty students to the front of the room and make them bend over and grab their ankles. He would then take this big old paddle with holes in it and crack them on the butt. But none of us ever felt abused. We pretty much deserved it. And it worked pretty well at keeping us under control.

We knew how to have fun without being entertained. If we said we were bored...we got put to work. We didn't have videos, video games, or multiple tv channels to entertain us. Music on the radio was our vice. Our parents still ironed clothes and we had to learn how to iron them right. We had spray starch and you started with the collar or sleeves first. If mom wasn't satisfied...you did them over. We hung clothes on the clothesline. We learned to cook. We fried steaks and homemade hash browns, homemade pies and homemade everything. Funny, though...I didn't get fat eating all that fried, creamy, buttery, homemade stuff...it wasn't until the processed and fast food stuff came along that I put on all that weight. We didn't have sodas with every meal. We were lucky to get a "pop" once a month...usually a big gallon jug of A & W frosty chilled root beer. We only drove to Chadron maybe a couple three times a year. We never really had to because we had everything you ever needed here in good old Crawford.

I remember going to Scottsbluff to get some school clothes and the only big store they had was K-mart. Only one fast food place...a drive-in hamburger place. No malls. Can you believe that?

I worked from the time I was fourteen doing anything and everything. Working at the Fort meant picking up litter, pulling weeds, restoring museum displays, and putting up signs. Pretty menial tasks. My starting minimum wage was $1.65 an hour.They would actually plant litter around to see if you would pick it up or step over it.

We did politically incorrect things. African-American knocking :) Yet we were pretty unaware of the racial injustices that was going on in the bigger cities. We lived history and missed it. First man on the moon, integration, Vietnam, draft dodging, Woodstock. Our R rated movies are tame compared to what you see now.

You could buy a vanilla coke and a bag of potato chips for a quarter. Our movie theater offered "Take a Chance" night for a quarter. You never knew what you would see, but you didn't care...it was a movie! I remember one boy I liked climbing over the back of a theater chair to sit by me. Sigh!

When a boy called you a stupid name...you knew he really liked you. At least that is what my grandpa told me when one boy called me Ratface.

We gave our chairs to adults...said please and thank you....and removed our caps in buildings.

Our biggest fear was Jake Hymer (our policeman)picking us up and chewing us out for riding your bike on the sidewalks.

We made some bad boy floats in our day. We used hundreds and hundreds of packages of napkins...but they were awesome. We would work on them all week in the evenings.

They were magical times. They were right when they said it was the good old days. Sometimes...when I just want to go back...I will play one of the old tunes...and enjoy some bittersweet memories. Back when my grandparents were all still alive.........and I wish I was young and free again! I miss those home cooked meals. I miss the innocence. I wish our children could experience it the way we did. But, you know what? It's getting harder to remember...

The Good Things About Being 52

Okay...so I turn 52 tomorrow so I decided instead of dwelling on the negative, I would list some of the GOOD things about being 52.

1. You're not 53.
2. You don't have to invest money in fishnet stockings...your varicose veins do the trick.
3. Boy scouts help you across the street.
4. You're only 7 in dog years.
5. You now qualify as a cougar.
6. You don't need a bed in order to fall asleep.
7. You don't have to go to school. Oh, wait....never mind.
8. Maalox has calcium.
9. You don't have to worry about finding a date to the prom.
10. You can eat ice cream for breakfast if you want to.
11. You can't hear people talking about you.
12. The other options aren't very good.
13. You still have 8 years to hit 60.
14. Grandchildren
15. Your humor increases...hey, you might as well laugh.

Actually, it's not so bad. Happy 52nd birthday...to me!