Real Faith

Faith in Action

2009-10-21T16:19:00.005-07:00

I talk a lot about real faith on this blog (and why not since that's what it's called!). But in the past few weeks I have had the unique opportunity to watch steady, unwavering, real faith in action.

Six weeks ago, my mother-in-law suffered what we thought was a stroke. Dad called me to tell me he'd called 911 and they were taking her to the hospital. Within a week, we learned Mom hadn't suffered a stroke at all, but rather had an inoperable brain tumor. They gave her less than six months to live. All this sounds like bad news, and it was. Family flew in from out of state. We cried. We hugged. We tried to encourage one another.

But here's the thing. Mom and Dad have walked each day in God's grace, holding hands and looking up. Mom says she's ready to die. She's at peace with God and it's a win-win situation for her. She says she only feels bad for us. She worries about Dad. She hopes someone will use the pork roast in her freezer. She often says she loves us and holds our hands, sometimes with tears in her eyes. But she's calm. There's no panic or fear of dying. In her words, "I'm ready to die. I just don't know how to do it." We assure her God will walk her through those last moments of her life just as He has walked with her all the other days.

Mom spent a couple weeks in a care facility after undergoing her brain biopsy. There was an incredibly grumpy, loud woman in the next room. They had to share a bathroom. We did our best to keep Mom away from this negative person. That's the last thing she needed in her time of recovery. But Mom heard about her and heard her yelling at nurses from time to time. "I need to meet her sometime," she said. We tried to divert her and say she didn't need to. "No, I want to meet her," she said firmly. "She needs help." Mom was always one to help anyone who needed it, no matter if they were lovely or unlovely. A brain tumor wouldn't deter her. Real faith. It comes from the heart and overflows into action.

As Mom and Dad journey through these last months of their life together, I pray I'll continue to learn from their faithful example. They celebrated their 59th wedding anniversary on Oct. 14th. Nurses and aides came in to wish them well, sign their giant card and enjoy a piece of cake with them. Mom and Dad left their mark of love on each one.

Real faith walks a life of love, then it peacefully rides in a wheelchair when that time comes. Real faith looks death in the eye and says I still win.

Heroes of Faith

2009-06-30T14:36:00.011-07:00

In the mayhem of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett dying, while the newshounds were still baying, a modern-day hero of faith died. There were no crowds, except for the throngs of people praying for him. There were no cameras. But the Spirit of the mighty God hovered at his bedside and no doubt whispered words of comfort over him. On Monday, June 29, 2009, Jon McCombs died.

In today's world we hear about the passing of celebrity superstars and the news is filled with the stories of their lives and careers. Michael Jackson's death still tops newscasts as new photos are found of the King of Pop.

In Hebrews chapter 11 we read about heroes of faith. Superstars of the Bible who are known throughout history for their great faith and love for God. People like Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Rahab, Gideon, and David, to name a few. That chapter is sometimes referred to as the Faith Hall of Fame.

Jon was born with cerebral palsey and had a challenging life. He had to rely on others for help with things we take for granted every day like getting out of bed on our own and dressing ourselves. His speech was difficult to understand, but his sense of humor always shone through. He loved to tease and laughter was his hallmark. I'd hear it ring out during sermons, in my Sunday school class and after church as he visited with people. He was a speed demon in his electric wheelchair and, with a gleam in his eye, he sometimes threatened to run me over.

Jon was patient beyond my understanding. He often repeated what he said many times over so I could understand him. Sometimes he'd just smile and give up on me. Once, he waited months for his wheelchair to be repaired and only requested prayer that he might get it, and the independence it brought him, back soon. I never heard him complain, but only trusted His God to do what was best for him.

Most of all, Jon loved God, and his Son, Jesus, into whose saving name he was baptized as a young man. He was an inspiration and encourager to me and many others who were privileged to know him. A new name, Jon McCombs, should be added to the Hebrews 11 list. The last two verses of that chapter says this about the heroes it listed: These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised. God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect.

I commend Jon for his unwaivering faith. He now awaits his ressurrection at Christ's return when he will receive the promise with all the other faith heroes who went before him--life eternal with Jesus. Together we'll all be made perfect in heart and body. The next time I see Jon, he won't be in a wheelchair. He won't be hard to understand when he talks. He'll shout God's praises and come running with strong legs and even stronger faith. How I long for that amazing day of Christ's return.

Jon was not like Michael Jackson. Or even Abraham of the Bible. But he left his own stamp on life and faith, just as you and I will. With a heavy heart, I'm thankful Jon's struggles are over. He fought the good fight. He finished the course. He kept the faith. Real faith. Just like all the other Faith Hall of Famers.

Who Needs Easter Anyway?

2009-04-09T09:20:00.007-07:00

Easter, my favorite holiday, is only a few days away, and I've been thinking a lot about it. It means so much to me because it still focuses so much on the holy, joyous resurrection day it really is. It even has a whole week leading up to it called "Holy Week" where many people turn their thoughts to the great suffering and sacrifice of Christ. Not many religious holidays, including Christmas, have managed to hold on to that spiritual focus as well as Easter has. Sure, it has gone commercial to a certain extent with the bunnies and candy and all. But I think the religious-ness of it still trumps the commercialism. I've got to wonder why that is. I mean, who needs Easter, really? Why does it mean so much?

This is my first year to enjoy being on Facebook. I get to see so many people's different viewpoints and lifepoints at random. It's like looking through a window at people's lives, some who I don't even know. Sometimes I feel like a Peeping Tom. Other times I feel like a close friend who is invited to share in someone's suffering. Here's a glance at some of the reasons we need Easter, as seen through my Facebook window just yesterday.

A young wife lost her husband unexpectedly. She desperately needs hope of the resurrection, not just Jesus', but her husband's resurrection when Christ returns.

A grandma welcomes a new grandchild into the world. Praise God! New life at its best!

A fellow writer ministers to teen moms, offering them hope for their life now and hope of the age to come.

A close friend narrowly escaped being sexually assaulted last week can know that those who love her are offering prayers on her behalf. Why would anyone pray to a dead Jesus? Praise God He lives!

These are just a few examples that came into my window's view yesterday. One day. Imagine all the days combined and all the windows (yours and mine) added together. So who needs Easter? Or maybe the better question would be who doesn't need it? We all do. Even non-believers. They need to know there's a group of believers who will pray for them in times of crisis. People who have a hope that wells up in them in the darkest times, like resurrection in the face of death. We all need hope. We all need the new life that Christ's resurrection offers. It's that hope that grows into a strong, real faith.

Shame Voices

2008-11-19T17:19:00.006-07:00

We all hear them. Those little voices in our minds that tell us we're less than we really are. As a writer, my voices often say things like, "Why would anyone want to read what you've written?" "That idea is so stupid." "You're a fake." There are a million variations on those themes and many more themes than I can begin to list.

So what are we to do when we hear shame voices? And just whose voice is that, anyway?

Well, I can tell you with assurance whose voice it isn't. It isn't God. The things that voice whispers in my ear are not things a loving heavenly Father would say to his darling daughter. They aren't things even my earthly father would have said. So why do I so often listen and believe that voice?

Even Jesus battled shame voices, and the scriptures tell us exactly whose voice it was. Matthew 4:1 says, "Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil (emphasis mine)." Can't you hear his sneering voice saying, "If you're the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread." Come on, Jesus. Prove it. It's not unlike that voice I sometimes hear saying, "If you're a real writer you'd be published more by now. Prove that God called you to write. Prove you are who you say you are." But how did Jesus answer the tempter? With scripture. "It is written: 'Man does not live by bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.'" Three times he countered the attack on who He was with scripture.

We can do the same. Our identity is not found in what we do or where we live, what people say about us, or even how we behave. It certainly isn't what those shame voices try to make us believe.

Here's what your true identity is, as stated in the New Living Translation:

Matt. 5:14 You are the light of the world.
John 15:15 You are a friend of Jesus Christ.
Rom. 8:37 You are overwhelmingly victorious.
1 Cor. 3:16 You are God's temple.
2 Cor. 5:17 You are a new person.
Eph. 2:10 You are God's masterpiece.
Col. 2:10 You are complete in Christ.
James 1:18 You are God's choice possession.
1 John 1:9 You are forgiven.
1 John 3:1 You are a loved child of God.
1 Pet. 2:9 You are chosen.
2 Cor. 3:3 You are a letter from Christ.
2 Cor. 3:12 You are very bold.
Rev. 19:7 You are the bride of Christ.

So the next time you hear that nasty little shame voice whispering in your ear, reject it. Claim one of these verses and say it out loud. "I am God's masterpiece!" Then get back to the abundant living Christ promised us when we have real faith.

Thanksgiving

2008-11-13T15:02:00.000-07:00

Thanksgiving is right around the corner. A time to reflect on all the blessings that God has showered down not just at this time of year, but all year long. Maybe even your whole life long.

Here are a few of my new blessings this year:
A contract to write four books in a series of 24 for tween girls
Seeing my daughter and her family buy their first home
Watching my younger daughter blossom into a beautiful pre-teen
Listening to my son's band's latest CD
Teaching other writers at Glorieta Christian Writers Conference
Witnessing the marriage of Justin and Kara, two kids who seem like my own
Taking my grandsons to the AZ Diamondbacks Fanfest
Hearing that my grandson, Ethan, who is slightly autistic, miraculously began talking at school

Older blessings that never grow stale:
Living life with my sweet hubby, Rollin
Going to Petco with my daughter
Listening to messages from my grandsons on the answering machine
Making friendly wagers on the American Idol outcomes
Going to church with my family
Laughing with friends
Playing canasta with the Sorensons on Friday nights
Making my children laugh
Growing in my faith

Lifelong blessings that bring me unspeakable joy:
My faithful mom
My funny sister
My slightly more serious brother
Memories of my godly dad, now gone three years
Extended family
Faith
Unconditional love
Knowing God is there for me
Supporters and encouragers
Prayer

These lists are far from exhaustive. I could write forever, but I won't. You get the idea. God is good all the time. Blessings abound every minute if you keep your eyes open in expectation. This Thanksgiving, don't forget to thank God for the little things that make life so rich. That's real faith.

Higher Than You Can

2008-10-02T14:46:00.000-07:00

I had the enormous pleasure of having my three little grandsons overnight last Friday. What fun we had! We played Monopoly Jr. and Candyland, went to the park and read books at bedtime. Ethan, 5, and Seth, 2-1/2 , both had new tennis shoes. Jamie, 7, did not. Ethan delighted in showing Grandpa and I how high he could jump in his new shoes. Jamie delighted in encouraging his younger brother. "Wow, Ethan! You jumped a whole foot in the air!"

Not wanting to be outdone, little Sethie quickly showed us how high he could jump, too. He cleared the floor by about three inches. Of course he received our praise! But I was most impressed with Jamie's response. "Seth! You jumped...you jumped," he searched for something good he could say about the tiny jump he'd just witnessed, one clearly not as good as Ethans, or certainly not as good as he could do himself. "You jumped...higher than you can!" Seth beamed.

I've thought about Jamie's words of praise many times since then. How often do we try that hard to encourage someone? What would the world be like if we all struggled to think of good things to say about each other?

I have lots of good friends in my life, ones who encourage me and lift me up when I'm down. They also celebrate achievements with me and make me want to do my best. They truly make me better than I am on my own. They make me jump higher than I can, live truer than possible in my own strength. Their prayers hold me up when I'm weak. They show me what real faith is all about. Do you know someone who needs encouragement? Take the time to struggle for just the right words. Be genuine. Be God's messenger to them today.

Take Care

2008-08-13T16:09:00.000-07:00

Blah. Exhausted. At the end of my rope. That's how I'd been feeling. Maybe a little angry and resentful, too. I felt grouchy and put-upon whenever anyone asked me to do anything for them. Especially my family. It seemed to me that everyone's needs always came before my own. If one of them needed something, I dropped whatever I was in the middle of to deliver a forgotten item, look up an invoice amount, check on a fact or two or whatever else the immediate emergency required. Meanwhile, my to-do list grew and grew. Laundry, grocery shopping, dishes, paying bills, helping with homework, writing on deadline, studying for the Sunday school class I teach, answering phone calls... you get the idea. When would my needs matter? When would my tasks be as important as everyone elses? I can throw an impressive pity party complete with streamers, confetti and gourmet food.

So what was the problem? Me. As much as I hated to admit it, I was the problem. It wasn't my family (as I'd hoped). I was the one putting unrealistic expectations on myself. No one asked me to drop what I was doing. I happen to have a very sweet husband and a fabulous daughter. Their requests weren't demands. They were simply requests that I could say no to or do at a more convenient time. But the real, down deep problem was that I was failing to feed my spirit.

As a writer, part of my job is reading. But I felt guilty sitting around reading a book when my husband was working his tail off to make a comfortable living for us, and my daughter was slaving away at school. Was it OK to sit and quietly do something I love to do? Or what about taking a nap when I felt tired? I felt like I had to sneak it in without anyone knowing about it. How ridiculous! So here's what I did.

I decided I'd do whatever my spirit told me to do. If I felt tired, I laid down. If I felt like reading, I read. I treated myself to lunch out if I felt like it. I exercised at the gym and ate right. And wonder of wonders, I had more energy. I actually felt more like tackling my to-do list. I was more pleasant to be around. I treated myself as I would others.

When was the last time you read a book, took a bubble bath, or had a good laugh with a friend? Don't wait until your tank's on empty. Fill yourself with the blessings God has placed in your life. Live the abundant life He promised you. Enjoy it, free of guilt. We can't take care of those He's entrusted to us if we haven't first taken care of ourselves.

Faith Questions

2008-08-08T15:35:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading a book called The True and Outstanding Adventures of the Hunt Sisters, by Elisabeth Robinson. A debut novel, it isn't the type I would usually read. For one thing, it contains a fair bit of profanity and is written completely in letter form, which I found mildly annoying until I got used to it. The main character, Olivia Hunt, is the author of all the letters, written to various characters in the book. It took me a while to get into the story because part of the plot involves her life as a Hollywood producer, which I totally did not relate to. But the other part is all about her relationship with her younger sister, Madeline, who is battling leukemia and whom she deeply loves. Olivia is by nature a cynical person, and Maddie, one who embraces life and love and leans into every circumstance of life with gusto, whether good or bad. She's optimistic, hopeful, full of faith and dreams. Olivia wrestles with questions of faith, as she sees her sister wrestle with living and dying. She says in a letter to Maddie:

When I look at the night sky and consider my relationship to it--one puny organism, out of billions of puny organisms, just sitting in the remains of an ancient chapel, breathing in and out, watching for shooting stars, trying to pick out the constellations, still--this moment both grounds me in the tactile reality of dirt, air, and skin and also lifts me up to believe that there must be someone, something up there, there must be. While floods and famine and cancer certainly suggest the universe is pure chaos and randomness, the beauty in the elaborate and connected natural order of things--of the veins of a leaf, of a river, of a bolt of lightning, to the veins in my hand--suggest there is a purpose and meaning and, yes, maybe even something bigger and better than us. And more than the incredible natural order of the universe, there is love: how can love be the product of anything short of divine?

I love to hear faith questions. It suggests a wrestle with God, as Jacob did when he insisted that God bless him. It says, I don't have the answers, but still I will trust You. Steven Curtis Chapman and his wife, MaryBeth were on Good Morning America this week talking about their excrutiating loss of their five-year-old daughter, Maria. I felt like rising to my feet and applauding at Steven's response when Robin Seward asked them if this loss has caused them to question their faith. He very honestly answered, yes, then went on to explain that they have so many questions and so few answers. But, he said, that's what faith is all about.

Real faith is believing and trusting God even when you don't understand. When you're heartbroken. When you feel like you can't go on another day. When you're confused. You move forward in faith trusting God to bring you through this thing somehow, knowing He always has your best interest at heart. He cries with us and shares our sorrow. He holds us up when our legs give way. Psalm 56:8 says, "You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book (NLT)." What a tender God we serve.

We all have questions. Sometimes they're accompanied by a fair bit of doubt. But when we can say, I'm going to trust God in this anyway, our faith grows. Our strength swells. And before we know it, we're soaring on the wings of eagles through His grace.

Summer Daze

2008-06-09T14:09:00.000-07:00

Ah, the lazy days of summer, though it seems a lot happens in my family during the summer. Much of it is fun stuff, but it has to be fit in between all the regular responsibilities of life. Some of my favorite summer activities include directing our church's vacation Bible school, visiting the library more frequently with my daughter, sleeping in a little later, taking a family vacation, driving kids to church camp and then enjoying the quiet ride home with my husband, watching AZ Diamondbacks baseball, celebrating birthdays (we have lots of summer birthdays), and just spending more time with family.

As much as I love summer, I must admit, I felt a bit nostalgic--all right, downright sad--on May 30th this year. On that morning, when my daughter left for school, I wept as she walked out the door. Suddenly, I no longer had an elementary school child. It was her last day of sixth grade.

No more picking her up at school and seeing all the kids, some big and some really tiny, playing outside. No more cute bulletin boards displaying childlike art. No more parent-teacher conferences. No more little kid stuff. It was all behind her. And me. And I cried. Tears of sadness, because I hate that that season of my life is over. Tears of joy, too, because it's all been such a wonderful ride. I love mothering and the first day of school and all that goes with that. Crayons, notebooks, lined paper, lunch boxes, new shoes. The excitement filling the hallways of the little school that had come to feel so much like home. Hugs from old teachers, fellow parents, and even the principal.

But next year will be very different. Don't get me wrong. We are excited about all the opportunities that lie ahead for Ashley, and so is she. We visited the new Jr. High she'll attend and came away feeling very optimistic. But she'll be a big kid now. It's all teen years ahead. I'm glad. And I'm sad. I wouldn't undo any of the past, nor would I want to stay there. But I can't help but look at the future with a bittersweet tear, knowing all the joys that lie behind me.

Of course, along with that tear comes an expectant smile of things to come. New joys. More firsts. Exciting growth. Fresh faith. God goes before us, as he did when Ashley started school seven years ago. I pray she'll hold onto Him as tightly as He holds her, as she walks into this new life adventure. It's where real faith happens--in the changes--as we trust Him to go there with us.

Mother's Day Memories

2008-05-12T10:24:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was Mother's Day. Rather than fight the crowds at a restaurant, my family gathered at our house and we ate lunch together. Nothing fancy. Just frozen lasagna I'd popped in the oven before leaving for church with a prayer that the delay timer on my oven would work. It did. The beginning of good things to come.

Here are just a few of my favorite memories from Mother's Day, 2008.

My husband telling me Happy Mother's Day before I'd even crawled out of bed.
He and our daughter slipping out before church to buy me cards and flowers.
Sitting in church with my mother.
Having my whole family for lunch at our house: my sister and her two daughters, my mom, my mom and dad-in-law, my grown son, my grown daughter, her husband, and their three darling boys, and of course, my husband, Rollin, and daughter, Ashley.
Eating outside on the patio
My four-year-old grandson, Ethan, presenting me with a Disney princess card that said, "Having a grandma like you is every princess's dream come true!" How I laughed! He knew I'd love the sparkles on it and the pretty kitty stickers he added. He was right. I love that my daughter, Jessica, is such a good mom and let him pick out the card he wanted.
My two-year-old grandson, Seth, saying, "Help!" and taking my hand so I could help him walk on the curb in our back yard.
My six-year-old grandson, Jamison, showing me his new loose tooth.
Tight, little arms around my neck.
Seeing my husband play dominoes with his mom and dad, knowing it was one of his mom's favorite things.
My daughter, Ashley, transforming our loft into a movie theater for her three nephews.
Getting a cold rag and bandaid for Ethan's boo-boo on his leg.
Listening to Captain Squeegee and the Soap Suds' new, unreleased CD with my son Tyler, who plays bass guitar in the band. It's fantastic!
After lunch, squeezing eight people around a patio table meant to seat four to six people, just because we all wanted to be together.
Making popcorn and hot chocolate for the kids in the "movie theater" in the loft.
Handmade gifts: hand woven construction paper baskets filled with homemade snickerdoodles; a bouquet of flowers made from little handprints that were cut out, rolled up, and attached to green pipe cleaners and a green construction paper leaf; a beautiful picture of a garden growing made from red painted handprints and green painted stems. It's on my refrigerator now.
Watching the Survivor finale with hubby and Ashley after the family went home.
Good night kisses.

Not every day is as special as Mother's Day. But when you have loving family around and God orchestrating your life, it's pretty close. Look for the small miracles in each day. Blessings are often tucked inside busyness. Slow down. Take a good look. Breathe deeply. Savor the moment. God is near.

Scroll of Remembrance

2008-04-08T09:23:00.000-07:00

I recently ran across an interesting Bible verse. Malachi 3:16 says,

"Then those who feared the LORD talked with each other, and the LORD listened and heard. A scroll of remembrance was written in his presence concerning those who feared the LORD and honored his name."

Now prior to this there had been conversation between the people and God about them robbing God by not giving Him tithes and offerings. They had a crisis in their community about what they should do. That's when those who feared the LORD came together and talked with each other. Seems like a good idea.

When things come up in my life that I'm not sure how to handle, I like to talk it over with my family and friends. And of course, God. As the verse says, He listens and hears, not only what I talk over with Him, but also what I discuss with others. He hears the anguish, the frustration, the despair. It doesn't go unnoticed by my loving Father.

But the thing that I thought was really neat in this verse was that after the people talked it over, they made a scroll of remembrance of those who loved the Lord, and presented it to him. It made me pause and think of all those who have gone before me and left an eternal mark in my life. They made a difference just by caring about me and living like Jesus in front of me. They had that real faith that this blog is named after. The kind that not only impacted their lives, but also everyone around them.

I think of my Dad who died two and a half years ago. He love Jesus so much and everyone who came in contact with him knew there was something special about him. He really cared about them. He was a pharmacist who let the children who needed medicine help him count out the pills that would eventually help them get well. Or he'd let them choose the flavor of liquid medicine so it wouldn't be so hard for them to take. He'd offer words of encouragement and blessing to frazzled parents and weary elderly patients. He brightened their day. He handed out as many hugs as he did meds. He shone Jesus in all he did.

Then there's my fifth and sixth grade Sunday school teacher, Marge McPherson. She taught us Bible truths in fun ways, inventing electronic games for us far before they were in stores. Marge even cared about her students outside of the classroom. She'd see us before or after church and whisper ever-so-secretly, "The word of the day is Peanut Butter." She made us laugh. She continued to care even when we outgrew her class and moved on. She always had a joke, or a silly thought of the day. She made a difference in my life. She made me feel that church was a place I could just be me, not some perfect saint. She showed me that Christians can have fun.

My dad and Marge have a prominant place on my scroll of remembrance. There are countless others, some I may not have even met, like my grandma who died before I was born. But because she raised my mom to be a godly wife and mother, she impacted my life as well.

What about you? Who belongs on your scroll of remembrance? Write them down. Present them to God with thanksgiving. Then live in such a way that you'll be on someone else's scroll.

Easter Reflections

2008-03-27T08:37:00.000-07:00

Unbelievably, Easter has already come and gone and March isn't even over yet. Easter is my favorite holiday because it's filled with such joy and hope. Not to mention it comes at that glorious time of year when the weather is warming and the air (at least in Arizona) is filled with the sweet smell of orange blossoms. Life doesn't get any better than that.

This Easter was different for me. My married daughter and her family now live about 45 minutes away instead of only ten. Our whole extended family gathered at her new house for Easter dinner after church instead of at mine or my mom's. It was a special joy to see my daughter do such a beautiful job as the hostess. She was organized, gracious and relaxed. And the ham she cooked was probably the best I've ever had. She was, well, an awful lot like my mother and me. And that made me proud to know she could carry that on long after we're gone.

I hope my heavenly Father looks down at me from time to time and smiles at how I'm doing. Does he see me loving others and meeting their needs and say "She's becoming more like her Dad every day?" Do I live in a way that reminds Him of His Son? Does He say, "Yes! She's carrying that on for us down on the earth until we come back to be with her?" Oh sure, God and His Son, Jesus are always with us. But one day we'll live together on this earth when Jesus returns. And therein lies the hope of Easter.

Two and a half years ago I lost my father to Parkinson's Disease. A more Godly man I've never known. When I think of Easter, I think of all Jesus accomplished on that cross and even more so, in his ressurrection. Because of his suffering, I get to enjoy the greatest joy of knowing that death is just a pause, a comma, in life. Jesus will raise my dad and all other believers who have died on that amazing day, and what a reunion there will be. Hope! Joy! Even in the face of death and sorrow that we experience today. It's carried out in our daily lives as we serve Easter dinners. It's in the faith that grows in our hearts as we wait for Christ's return. It's in the pride we feel as we watch our children become people of God. It's in the hugs we give our grandchildren as we silently whisper a prayer for their hearts to know Him. The tomb is empty. He isn't there, because Jesus is living in our hearts, filling us with expectant hope.

Growing

2008-03-03T16:18:00.000-07:00

I must admit, I've never been an animal person. The few pets I grew up with were mainly outdoor pets, and not being much of an outdoor girl, I didn't feel terribly bonded to them. But guess what? God gave me an outdoor, animal loving daughter and through her, I'm learning to love animals too.

I should have known Ashley would love animals. Her favorite toys, even as an infant were plastic animals she could chew on. She'd gurgle and coo at a tiny stuffed kitty we made meow at her. Her chubby little hand always reached for it before any others. Then as a toddler, she loved playing with her Fisher Price farm. She spent hours moving the animals around, even playing with it while she watched TV.

Today, Ashley is twelve. She has had pet flies (those before we thought she was old enough to have a real pet), a hamster, a rat, a turtle, two hermit crabs, fish, three water frogs, two dogs, and two guinea pigs. I consented to all these animals, but not always happily. But here's the funny thing. I actually grew to love most of these creatures after only a few days. Maybe it's because I love the girl who loves them so much. I don't know. But I do know that I have learned to genuinely feel something warm and squishy about something that I used to find annoying.

That gives me hope. I know annoying people. I bet you do too. Perhaps I can learn to love them, as I did those silly animals. Or if nothing else, maybe I'll feel warm and squishy simply because I so love the One who loves us all.

Cleaning

2008-02-25T09:16:00.000-07:00

My family and I just spent a glorious weekend with out of state relatives. They left the frigid cold of Minnesota to thaw out a bit in our Arizona sunshine. We apologized profusely that it was rainy and only in the sixties one of the days they were here. They graciously reminded us that it was thirty below zero back home and our temps were still almost 100 degrees warmer than theirs! It's all in your perspective.

As wonderful as that weekend was, the week before was nothing but work and preparation for their arrival. And not only theirs, but we have other out of state company coming to stay for a few nights for a family wedding this week. That meant lots of housecleaning in places I haven't cleaned for a while! I dusted, vacuumed, mopped, picked up piles of stuff that should have been filed, put away, or thrown away months ago. I scrubbed toilets, showers, and vanities until they gleamed. My house is now in order. Isn't that how it is supposed to be? If you're anything like me, I want my house to be clean, but I hate the process.

The same can be said of my spiritual life. I want to know Christ, but I don't always want to take the time to cultivate my relationship with Him. I don't always make time to read my Bible, pray, or serve Him in the ways I know would please Him most. I'm not one who thinks God wants me to be on a constant guilt trip because I don't read my Bible every day. Don't get me wrong, I believe it's to my benefit every time I do spend time in His Word, but I don't think He gets mad at me if I don't get to it daily, any more than my earthly friends get mad if I don't call them every day. They understand that I have a lot going on and I think He understands the days I'm rushing out the door to get my daughter to school without first having my quiet time. But it doesn't mean I can't talk to Him on the way home in my quiet car. There are so many ways to draw close to Christ.

But the beauty of those quiet moments alone with Him when I do make the time! He brings order to my chaos, peace to my frustrations, and joy to my living. Even if my 'living" at the time happens to be mostly housework! All my work can become a divine expression of my love for Him as He brings meaning into even the most mundane task. And that's only part of the payoff.

After all that cleaning, the real fun begins. The company comes and the celebrating begins. Relationships are forged stronger, laughter rings bright, and memories are burned into our minds to relive on dreary days. Yes, I'd gladly spend even another whole week cleaning just to get to enjoy those days with family and friends. It's rich and blessed. God smiles knowing one day He will throw the biggest party of all when Jesus returns. What joy and laughter there will be when we all come together to celebrate the hard fought battles of this life knowing we were victorious because of Him. How He must anticipate seeing the joy on our faces, hearing the laughter, wiping away our tears one final time. And hallelujah! We don't have to have a clean house to be ready for that party. Just a clean heart that has loved Him and accepted the gift of His Son, Jesus. Now that's a party I don't want to miss!

Behind the Scenes

2008-02-12T10:49:00.000-07:00

What if you had a personal assistant who went ahead of you, planning things in advance for your benefit? What if he/she knew your needs in advance without you even telling them? What if your P.A. was available 24/7 and was glad to see to your needs no matter what time you called? What if what this P.A. did for you was always right, flawless, and perfectly timed, never off by a second or improperly motivated? How cool would that be?

Very cool. And that's just what God does for us 24/7. An example of this came to light just this week. I received the plot for the tween book I am to write. Now let me give you a little insider info on myself. I have a few weird quirks. One, I want to learn to play the harp, but I'll save that topic for another day. Two, I love sheep. As a matter of fact, I started loving sheep over 20 years ago, when I saw a picture in Sears one day as I took my two small children to get their portrait taken. I was a single mom then, living a rather frazzled life. I saw this $200 painting of sheep grazing in a pasture and it spoke peace to me. If I'd had $200 I would have bought it on the spot. I've spent the last 20 years looking for a similar painting that gave me the same peaceful feeling. My love affair with sheep began that day and continues to this day.

I live on the edge of the Phoenix metropolitan area. When I say edge, I mean that the city is creeping ever closer to the dairy farms that have been our neighbors. They probably hated it when our urban sub-division of houses encroached on their tranquility. I hated it when the nearby horse farm sold and now a business complex is being constructed. But for a month or so last spring, a herd of sheep was brought to graze in a neighboring field. It was sheer heaven. I loved everything about it. I drove by and stopped to watch and listen and smell the air almost every day. I took my daughter and my mother there to experience it with me. One day I took a lawn chair, my Bible, camera, and digital recorder and sat a spell by the field. I read the 23rd Psalm, took way too many pictures, tried to capture the sounds of the sheep on my digital recorder, and soaked in the wonder of these creatures. They're so ordinary, so dependent. They smell bad. But something keeps drawing me to them.

During the time the sheep were grazing in my neighborhood, I had occasion to attend a funeral. Who should I speak to there, but a man who is a fireman by trade, but a shepherd by heart. He raises sheep. I was thrilled! I told him I am a writer and would love to write a story involving sheep some day. If I did, I asked, could I contact him for my research? He graciously said yes.

Now back to my original thought. I got my plot yesterday. Here's how the first few lines read: "Bailey's cousins go in for sheep in a big way. They not only raise thieir own, but at sheep shearing time, they're considered local experts and sheer other people's sheep, too. Ever since she was a small child, Bailey has spent a week at her cousin's house every year helping shear their sheep."

I was ecstatic! Not only was I chosen to write for this series, God gave me the character I hoped to be assigned, and then added the extra blessing of allowing me to write about sheep! He had gone before me, put a love of sheep in my heart 20 years before, arranged an encounter with a shepherd, then gave me a sheep/tween writing assignment. All the desires of my heart!

It amazes me how God works behind the scenes when I don't even know it. He knows what I need when I don't even know myself. He sees what's coming down the pike in my life and prepares me for it ahead of time. He's better than any personal assistant I could hire. And He even works for free.

When is a time you've seen God's hand at work behind the scenes in your life? I'd love to hear your stories!

Creation

2008-01-28T09:55:00.000-07:00

Now the earth was formless and empty,

darkness was over the surface of the deep and

the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.

Genesis 1:2

In silence, creation began. Then light, sky, water, land, plants, trees, sun, moon, stars, sea creatures, birds, animals, and finally, man and woman, gloriously burst forth at God's command. And it was good.

Last November, my husband and I went on a romantic getaway to Maui, and while we were there we went on a sunset dinner cruise. I expected to be blown away by the beautiful sunset, but it didn't materialize like we'd hoped and the day turned to night without much fanfare. What blew me away, though, came after the sun set. It was simply, the darkness. Never in my life have I seen such darkness. Had it not been for the happy lights on our boat, you couldn't have seen your hand in front of your face. The darkness was palpable. As far as my eye could see past the edge of our boat, it was black. Not just dark blue or purple, but totally, completely black. Not a twinkle in the night sky to light the water. Just darkness. Darkness was over the surface of the deep, as Genesis says. To me, it was a scary darkness, even though I was safe.

At times, life looks pretty dark and grim. Our circumstances aren't what we hoped they'd be. We're disappointed. We can't see a way out. No one seems to hear our calls for help. We feel we've been left groping in the dark. We need something, someone to give us hope. God offers himself in Genesis 1:2. For though darkness was over the surface of the deep, God's spirit was hovering over the waters. If you're in dark, deep waters today, picture your loving God hovering over you, keeping watch, protecting, waiting for the perfect time to start creating something new in your life. There's no better place to be than in God's watchful eye, his creativity welling inside Him, until it bursts forth in your life, and something beautiful is made in the darkness. And, as with all His creation, it will be good.

Blessed

2008-01-21T10:12:00.000-07:00

After my writing my last post on the topic of waiting--the same day, actually--I was informed I was one of the six authors chosen to write a new tween fiction series for girls. I was thrilled! I did the happy dance in my home office! Only one problem. I was home alone. No one with whom to share the joy! I immediately grabbed my cell phone to call my husband. He was elated, proud, and determined we needed celebrate. Dear man. I proceeded to call my daughter. No answer. Called my son, and he was happy for me, but even happier to know he'd received the good news before his sister. Grin. Called my mom, my sister, my friend, and anyone else I could think of, many of whom were not home. Their answering machines were glad to hear from me. I sent numerous emails and waited for congratulatory replies to inundate my mailbox. They did.

So what's my point? Only that as I waited to find out if I'd been chosen to write for this series, I also asked for prayer from my family and friends. And when I got my answer, I was eager to share the blessing of answered prayer with them. I would have called them either way, whether I'd been chosen or not. In sharing this journey with me, they supported me, encouraged me, prayed for me, believed in me. None of that would have changed had the outcome been different. I am blessed beyond all reason with good family and friends with whom to share my joys and sorrows. But my good news wouldn't have been nearly as fun to receive had I not had people to share it with.

I'm an introvert by nature. But people are still so important in my life. So if you have even one special person with whom you can share the ups and downs of life, answered prayers, and real faith, you too are blessed beyond reason. This journey called life is richest when shared.

Waiting

2008-01-16T08:18:00.000-07:00

Seems like much of a writers life is spent in waiting. Presently, I'm waiting to hear from a publisher about whether I'll be one of six authors chosen to write a new tween girls' fiction series. I'm waiting to hear from a magazine editor about their list of themes for the new year. I'm waiting to find out if I'll be on staff at a premier Christian writers conference. I'm also waiting to see a short sidebar published that was accepted by a kids magazine over six months ago. I'm waiting to hear back from a couple of publishing houses on book proposals I sent to them last October. I'm waiting for an editor-friend to send another of my book proposals to her former publishing house with a letter of recommendation. And those are just the things I'm waiting for in my writing life right now. I won't even get into my personal waiting list.

Waiting. It's a fact of life, but one that is sometimes hard to swallow. But waiting doesn't have to mean marking time. It can be a very productive time too. My strategy for handling the waiting is to move on to the next project, whatever that may be. It occupies my time productively, and seems to make it pass by faster. I try not to let discouragement creep in as I wait. Just because I'm not getting results as quickly as I'd like, it doesn't mean negative things are taking place. I like Psalm 27:14. As a matter of fact, I have it on a 3x5" card on my computer. It says, "Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord." Simple. Straightforward. Easy to grasp. I like that. So I'm determined to do just that. Be strong and take heart as I wait. God is waiting with me.

Hi!

2008-01-15T10:41:00.000-07:00

Hi all,

I'm excited and nervous about starting this blog, but look forward to sharing my heart and life with you. As a freelance writer, I intend to keep you updated on my writing projects and my spiritual insights as I study my Bible. Not much to say at this point, but I wanted to say hello and welcome you to my blog. I look forward to sharing with you and hearing from you.

Linda