HOPE

 

1962. The year this photograph was taken. 

1962. The year I was born.

John F. Kennedy, at the age of 43, was the youngest person elected U.S. President. 

Only Teddy Roosevelt was younger (42) when he assumed the presidency following the assassination of President McKinley. Bill Clinton and Ulysses S. Grant were 46; Barrack Obama was 47.

The photograph above transports me back in time to when the adult women -- my mother's friends -- spoke well of the First Lady, Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy. She was iconic. Girls my age were encouraged to be like her, to be inspired by her intelligence and graciousness. Years later, my mother shared with me "Jacqueline Kennedy: The White House Years" at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The world I knew only in black and white, came alive in full color.

In a conversation with my daughter this past weekend, I bemoaned the lack of youthfulness in the candidates. I am old (58) and consider these guys -- wealthy white males President Trump, Joe Biden, Bernie Sanders -- age-appropriate to date my mother, were she to be in the market, so to speak.

My daughter -- a woman now old enough to be president -- reminded me that family folklore reveals my own passion for politics: a political psychology class at University of Wisconsin-Madison unleashed within me a desire to be a political campaign manager.

Inspired by the candidacy of Hillary Rodham Clinton, my Honda Accord once sported an H08 sticker.

All this to say, that I am perplexed by the choices allotted me and my fellow citizens in this coming election. This morning it is clear to me that I've sat on the sidelines of politics far too long and I need to get back in the game.

I am returning to the idealism of my youth and looking to support candidates who inspire me. 

HOPE 2024.

R

Movie worth watching: Natalie Portman as Jacqueline Kennedy

Gotta love Wiki U.S. Presidents listed by age

Photo credit

Waiting

I wake at 6:15am ... it is Saturday, amid a pandemic. There is no work today, no place to go. Sleeping in is an attractive option, but I am awake. I walk softly to the kitchen, heat up yesterday's coffee (brewing a fresh pot feels too noisy) and open the blinds on the kitchen window to welcome the day.

I am waiting for the sun to rise.

Rain is expected. The two-story brick buildings and heavy gray clouds obscure the glory of a classic sunrise. Instead the deep shadows of the night slowly dissipate. The exterior trim framing the windows moves from murky gray to radiant white. The harsh illumination of the security light on the blossoming tree gives way to the softer, natural daylight. The gentle interplay of green leaves, brown stems, and delicate clusters of flowers calmly unfolds.

I open my devotional: "Look at the birds in the air. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, but your heavenly Father feeds them. And you know that you are worth much more than the birds."

The words remind me that God is good and faithful and calms the storm.

I pray, asking to trust God in the waiting, to be more like the birds.

R

Matthew 6:26

A Matter of Place

I look at the black and white 8x10 photo of my grandson welcoming his first sibling. He is a toddler – so young – yet he is quiet in the moment, looking at her with such tenderness and love it takes my breath away. 

Wisdom whispers, reminding me that tender moments are rare and precious. Babies and toddlers are not always quiet. I am thankful for the Grands and the photograph.

Stetsonville – Medford – Cornell – Menomonie – Chippewa Falls

Cornell – Holcombe – Chippewa Falls – Eau Claire

Sun Prairie – Ankeny – Eden Prairie – Marshalltown – West Bend

Bloomer – Eau Claire – Oakville – Mehlville – Affton

The photograph has traveled with me to five of the nineteen places called home. The geography of my life spans four states – with return engagements – in the Mississippi River basin.

Wisconsin – Iowa – Minnesota – Missouri

The Mississippi is constant, faithful and changing. The levees and bridges, locks and dams, envisioned by human minds and constructed by human hands imperfectly withstand the forces of nature. Some age gracefully. Others experience catastrophic failure. All require maintenance and repair. Creeks and streams and smaller rivers flow into the Mississippi, and the mighty river flows boldly south toward New Orleans and the inevitable mingling with the sea.

My grandson, born in Minnesota, welcomed his first sister in Wisconsin, his second sister in Missouri, and just days ago a third sister amid pandemic of COVID-19. He holds the baby and smiles for the camera – a moment of tenderness and pride, flanked by femininity, a sister on each side. The generous over-stuffed rocker is filled to capacity. Behind the rocker is a patio door. Sunlight pours in and my eyes are drawn upward from the Grands to the backyard edged by untamed growth. An aging railroad bridge crosses over the Meramec, the water below eagerly flowing toward the Mississippi, flowing toward the sea.

My soul grows quiet, contemplative, prayerful.

In a letter to the exiles the prophet Jeremiah writes: “‘I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”

Yes, Lord. Yes.

R

Jeremiah 29:11

hesitation

The invitation came from a trusted friend and without hesitation i accepted: yes, i will be a presenter for the first Justice Panel, a new journey in our faith community.

Inspired by Dr. Martin Luther King's challenge to rise above the narrow confines of individualistic concerns, we seek first to understand, then to be understood; to listen with empathy and compassion; to preserve dignity and embrace humanity.

An individual has not started living fully until they can rise above the narrow confines of individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of humanity. Every person must decide whether they will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness. - Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

A local bakery owner welcomed us and made fresh coffee. Early arrivals rearranged tables, three presenters filled seats along one side, the facilitator to our right, my spouse to our left.

As others arrive my heart hesitates, a nagging pulse of thought threatens to unravel me: my husband's heart, his feelings, as he takes in the words i am about to share. i hesitate.

Our topic? abortion

My words:

Each year 3 million unintended pregnancies gather like raindrops cascading into a waterfall. Our American culture celebrates passion and independence, giving in to seduction, going with the flow. Stopping to put on a condom, to talk about contraception, to prevent pregnancy, is too often missing from the love scenes in movies and TV. The idea of waiting for the person God designed for us, does not seem to exist at all.

A few months after The Supreme Court decided Roe vs Wade, my mother invited me to sit down at the kitchen table for a talk -- the talk about what would be happening to my body, about sex, about how good girls don't. In her nervous words I found no redemption for bad girls who did, no room for compassion, no invitation to the beauty of monogamy, no celebration of sexuality as God designed it. In the years that followed as my body and mind grew from girl to woman, my heart twisted with fear. I became convinced that were I to disclose an unplanned pregnancy, my father would kill me with his bare hands. I chose to be careful, to use birth control, to seek medical care, to preserve my own life, to never get pregnant.

At the same time, compassion for other women grew within me: women without resources to pay for medical care, women discarded-abandoned-marginalized, women trapped in impossible situations, lives infused with violence both real and imagined, truth and lies, women facing unexpected pregnancies, women who needed care, women who needed choices.

Through the 70s the images of back-alley abortions, of mothers and children butchered by human greed, haunted me. In the 80s the grotesque, amplified posters of aborted babies held by people picketing along South Hastings Way, disgusted me. And in the 90s after writing a letter to the editor championing the redirection of talents from debating abortion to providing education, prenatal care and support, I was unprepared for the inhumanity that arrived in our mailbox from strangers claiming pro-life status.

In 2008, in the months just before we started Whispered Hopes, four women came to me with their personal stories of choice and life, unplanned pregnancy and abortion. In these intimate, quiet, tearful conversations each woman in her own time told her own story. One told of a husband who insisted she abort and the miraculous moment when she refused, getting up from the clinic table, choosing life for their child and their marriage. Another woman spoke of shame and isolation, of keeping her secret from even her closest companions, of prayer and fear, seeking God's guidance, and experiencing a peace in the decision to abort -- a false peace that dissipated the moment she left the clinic. The other two women were within my closest family and friends, so close that my heart silently screamed, "I would have raised your child as my own!" Yet, the shame associated is so deep and the compassion with in me so hidden, the silence sealed their resolve. 

If I am honest, it is more complicated than being willing to help after her story is told. Breaking the isolation, overcoming the fear, telling our story to another human, trusting one another requires great courage. To reveal our story while we are in the stormy sea of an unintended pregnancy requires miraculous courage. God-breathed courage.

My hands are empty. My heart is broken. 

If a woman is seeking an abortion, I will petition God for the courage to go with her into the clinic, for the faith to pray with her and for her, looking for the miracle, as we walk together through this storm.

After thoughts...

In the 24 hours following our Justice Panel i realized that i am on both sides of this issue: i believe life begins at conception and i uphold a woman's (parent's) right to choose.

An inner discussion is on-going, how do we honor both people present at conception?

... and footnotes:

We seek first to understand, then to be understood - Stephen Covey

3 million unintended pregnancies annually, reported in 2012 statistics Center for Disease Control,  with 699,000+ pregnancies ended in abortions for the same time period.

Unintended pregnancies account for 51% of pregnancies in our country, reported by Guttmacher Institute; with further identification as 31% mistimed and 20% unwanted. [more]
 
Another discovery for me is the scope of time we risk unintended pregnancy.  From CDC (but source missing in my notes) is the concept that women are fertile from 15 to 44 so even those who want children and a family spend decades seeking to avoid pregnancy rather than welcoming it.

Roe v Wade was decided on 01/22/1973 and for me this marks the beginning of the brutal, divisive debate still raging in American society.

Rjw

tipping point

The meltdown happened Saturday at 1:27 p.m.

My heart had reached the tipping point and i called my husband in tears, asking him to come get me and bring me home.

The cheerful holiday chatter and smell of baking cookies in a house filled with four generations put me on edge. The silent rumbling darkness in my heart threatened to surface and unleash an infestation of unaddressed conflict and poisonous enduring contempt.

The rumbling began a few days ago when my fingers retrieved the red-scarfed rabbit from the box of ornaments for our Christmas tree. The rabbit is the tangible reminder of my own gullibility. The soundtrack it cues up is decades-old laughter at my expense, a memory laced with stupidity and shame: watching for the jackalope mile after mile and day after day on a family vacation road trip in the 1970s.

The timing is no accident. My faith community is focusing on a 3 Scripture tool for evangelism: Matthew 22:37, Matthew 22:39, Matthew 28:18-20.

My struggle is within Matthew 22:27: loving God will all my heart, all my soul and all my mind. 

At a recent coffee with my friend-and-pastor, he encouraged me to open my heart to God. Since that meeting i have been intentional in my prayer and meditation, asking God to remove whatever is keeping us apart.

The self- and other-centered contempt i hold within my heart is what God is revealing and redeeming.  He invites me to excise the bruised and wounded flesh, to make room for His gifts.

As my grandson and i add more decorations to the tree my heart ponders the question: What am i hoping for this Christmas? 

i am hoping to collect and affirm stories of triumph, celebration, joy and delight -- to love my children and grandchildren in a way that invites and embraces heaven here on earth.


tip·ping point

noun

noun: tipping point; plural noun: tipping points

1. the point at which a series of small changes or incidents becomes significant enough to cause a larger, more important change. 
   
   

   definition source: Google.com

treasure map

Traveling with toddlers is unpredictable even on short rides. Traveling 362 miles with a toddler, then turning around and driving back home the next day is a challenge.

Over the past three decades, with and without toddlers, these roads, this journey, has become too familiar.

Traveling hundreds of miles for short stays is part of our blended Iowa-Wisconsin family -- Albert Lea MN once seemed the perfect half-way point. Career opportunities did not take us there.

So as autumn moves into northern Wisconsin, we find ourselves traveling south for the funeral of the family matriarch, my mother-in-law, my husband's mother, our children's paternal grandmother. The little boy in the carseat is one of her eleven great-grandchildren. His father and his aunt occupy the front seats of the rented van; my hubby "Grumpa" is stretched out as best he can in a second row seat; i am riding co-pilot in the back row, next to the sturdy carseat that holds our most precious cargo.

"Why?" is his favorite question. "The Blu House" his favorite destination.

He treats us to nearly an hour of heart-wrenching appeals to go to The Blu House, punctuated with tears of disappointment and that favorite question, "Why?"  Our breakfast at McDonald's seems to change it up, perhaps because we invited him to choose the restaurant?  We spend the next six hours sampling the toys, games and books daddy and mommy packed for the trip, and making sure there are lots of running-playing-moving games as we visit rest areas and gas stations along the way.

For the toddler, the hotel pool offers respite, the promise of more adventure. The rosary, wake, visitation, funeral, luncheon and burial become places to meet new playmates, young life affirming hope in the dust of death.

The matriarch is remembered for homemade mac-n-cheese and sweet rolls, thoughts drift to noisy family gatherings around her kitchen table, the Thanksgiving ice storm that compelled us to stay an extra day, the weddings and funerals and baptisms that invited us to travel this way.

And then, our time here is over. We are back in the van. Reversing directions. Heading home.

The roadside running-playing-moving holds no allure. The toys, games and books packed for the trip have grown tired and stale. In an effort to avoid the "Are we there yet?" cliché i dig into my own bag of tricks and tear a blank page from my journal.

Together my grandson and i draw a secret pirate treasure map spanning three states, decorated by pictures of us as pirates with simple drawings of pirate landmarks; i soon discover that the map has turned the tables for i am the one redirecting the boredom, asking "Are we there yet?" and inviting sweet toddler fingers to find our location and inform me "Not yet!"

Over 724 miles and many-too-many hours on the road my grandson held onto hope.


Jesus said, “Let the children come to me and do not stop them, because the Kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14 GNT

blackest night

The railing is more substantial than expected. I'd driven across the bridge a thousand times, but this night for the first time I walk it. I am close enough to the railing to touch the smooth, round metal. The circumference is more than twice the distance measured palm to fingertip; my two hands together look too small to fully grasp it. 

Walking the 4½ miles from a friend's spare bedroom in Camino Park to the bridge on South Hastings Way did not alleviate my desperation. Step followed step. Seconds gathered into minutes. An hour passed without memory as though a dense fog had swallowed up the visual and visceral cues that life exists. I experience myself without dimension from somewhere deep within, a heart beat slows and grows loud, pulses a primal accompaniment, intensifying my need for escape. 

The air is cool. Its breeze delivers a hint of fall. The river below is still and soundless, lifeless and black. Day has turned to evening. 

The night is swallowing the sun. 

My hands move toward the railing. Headlamps on a passing car illuminate a large black spider, the builder of an intricate web anchored in the smooth, round metal. I am startled and fearful, eyes alert and intent on this unexpected adversary, hands now motionless in midair, heart and soul moving as though in meditation: behold the delicate web. 

The bridge had been my destination, the inky black river my intended tomb. 

Behold the delicate web: intricate and anchored, woven and unwavering. 

Blackest night cannot devour the sun. 

Spiderweb in Sunlight by Nicko Margolies

When you beg the Lord for help, he will answer, “Here I am!” Isaiah 58:9 CEV

Rjw

it was 1985. a brutal battle for custody in the midst of shattered dreams. the isolation of divorce. economic poverty. an overwhelming sense of failure as a parent and a person. 

Hope, One Brick at a Time

 

 obsessed     TWISTING    RULES   –> poison

   

 CONTROL!   v pain.            REJECTION

...DEPRESSION     D A M A G E     LAST    THE LETDOWN

Judges   OUT OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE.   Identity Crisis 

Unlike the computer keyboard i am using today, the healing arts workshop taught by Destiny at ICAP Global's Delight Conference moves and removes control from my internal editor's struggle for consistency and perfection – unexpectedly and predictably placing it into the capable hands of God.

The workshop becomes a treasure quest: experiencing for the first time the feel of brush strokes on canvas ...  uncovering and discovering words within the pages of soon-to-be-discarded magazines ... and permission to be messy in the sticky-fingered joy and childlike freedom of gluing tiny bricks onto canvas and even tinier words onto bricks.

Inspired by Destiny
The story she shares and the artwork she created inspires us. Her letters spelling HOPE are thin and tall and strong – the bright white graffiti reminiscent of a strong beam of light shining miraculously outward from deepest darkness. Her 3D bricks and words surround on four sides the HOPE on the painted wall.

In these post ICAP days and weeks i find myself enmeshed in an abstract longing for a clarity of connectivity, wildly seeking a deeper understanding of the comfort i often find in isolation, and striving toward elusive answers to concrete questions: why does the artistic bricks-n-mortar of my artwork lacking walls to the left and to the right? is it because i struggle most with shifting sand at my foundation? seek shelter from the storm beneath the idol of self-reliance?

The artwork now hangs on the wall above my desk. Each time i look at this recreation of Destiny's Hope, One Brick at a Time, the unfamiliar textures and processes of working in mixed media return to me, and somewhere deep within i am confident the answers will come.

When you follow the desires of your sinful nature, the results are very clear: sexual immorality, impurity, lustful pleasures, idolatry, sorcery, hostility, quarreling, jealousy, outbursts of anger, selfish ambition, dissension, division,  envy, drunkenness, wild parties, and other sins like these. Let me tell you again, as I have before, that anyone living that sort of life will not inherit the Kingdom of God. But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against these things! – Galatians 5:19-23 NIV

Rjw

light in the shadows

01 Feb 2014 – i remember the meeting.

the notes in the margin of my notebook read:

storm
in without
hold integrity
celebrate
job description
expectations
connections
clinics
Covenant
overarching
specific ministry
pieces
baseline
faith life
fellowship
ttu
what is is essential?
what in me is broken that i am afraid?

i came into the meeting overwhelmed, exhausted, wanting, needing.

i left with fragile hope, permission and affirmation to sit on my step, to move neither up nor down, to not let go of the old nor take on the new, to not give up, to not drop any one thing, but to suspend the non-essentials, to embrace the basics in what i had been doing, to sit and rest and wait for God to send help.

and God sent help

in the notebook before me, there is now a list of 19 names – 12 strangers who recently and unexpectedly entered my life, new co-conspirators in the journey

and 7 familiar friends who drew closer, bringing strength and inspiration

i remain here on my step engaged and motionless, resting in the hope, in the permission and affirmation

i am learning to suspend the non-essentials and unearthing time for rest

i am no longer in the dusky shadowed darkness

for God has moved

and on my step there is new Light.

God made two great lights—the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night. He also made the stars. God set them in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth, to govern the day and the night, and to separate light from darkness. And God saw that it was good. Genesis 1:16-18 NIV

Rjw 

stairway

The stairway to heaven, a journey, descending, slowly, often painfully slowly, one step at a time, resting, engaging the person next to me, a step above or a step below, help and hope, faith overcoming fear, excavating the dark -- the darkness within me -- changed by miraculous Light, i journey further, until i reach the bottom, the posture of Christ on the Cross, arms spread wide as i lay face down, my heart beating aloud Love one another the way I loved you.

Rw

Empathy

Rarely if ever does an empathic response begin with At Least ...
—Brené Brown


Rjw 

more: http://brenebrown.com/2013/12/10/rsabear/

Worthy

Reading my friend Kimberly's blog always brings tears, sometimes tears of laughter, more often tears of sorrow so deep as to take my breath away.

I saw a tenderness in the father’s loving concern for his child, and a hopeful trust in the cradled child as she looked into her father’s face. This may sound normal to you, but it is extraordinary in a land riddled with fathers who abandon their children through war, famine, fear, or through trauma that seems to emotionally just shut them down. - Matt McGowen, guest blogger, Life that Matters 

This morning as I read about a father and daughter in Sudan, my heart also grieves for daughters here in the U.S. whose fathers abandon them, often putting them at risk economically, physically, spiritually. Abandonment in our culture - perhaps in all cultures - opens the door for the enemy's cruel lie of worthlessness, a false belief that she is not worthy of love.

We are all worthy of love.

What is is about U.S. culture that is traumatizing our fathers? Our young men?

What is the first step in healing? What is the first step in the restoration of Hope?

Rw

Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. - Philippians 2:1-4 NIV

58: The Film

10am Jun 30 Sat, Micon Cinemas Chippewa Falls

Journey from the slums of Kenya to the streets of New York, from the sun-scorched plains of rural Ethiopia to British shopping centers, from Brazilian ganglands to the enslaving quarries of India.

Confront the brutality of extreme poverty, meet those who live out the True Fast of Isaiah 58, and embrace stunning new possibilities for the future.

Come a few minutes early for coffee and rolls. Stay afterwards and explore opportunities for volunteerism locally and globally.

Touched Twice United
Teamwork Africa
Freedom Through Fellowship
iHelp
Jungle Hospital, Rio Viejo, Honduras
Whispered Hopes
Fierce Beauty
LSS Run Away and Youth Services
Hagar USA
Just Us Run
Parents 4 Learning
Safe Families
Hope Gospel Mission
58: small group (July)

View trailer here 58:

Free movie and event hosted by volunteers from Fellowshipcf.org in cooperation with Micon Cinemas, Chippewa Falls.

“Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: 

to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, 

to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? 

Is it not to share your food with the hungry 

and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter 

— when you see the naked, to clothe them, 

and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood? 

Then your light will break forth like the dawn, 

and your healing will quickly appear; 

then your righteousness will go before you, 

and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. 

Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; 

you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I."

Isaiah 58:6-9 NIV

Rw

Brownies

I am
not Abel
but Cain,

not the
prodigal son
but the
jealous sibling,

the virus
not the
antidote.
January 2012 more

This morning, the brownie wins.

My humanity is hungry for comfort, and the chocolate brownie satisfies – momentarily.

Yesterday at a table with ministry leaders from across our community we prayed for those tempted by suicide, our sisters and brothers in desperation, people seemingly without hope.

Today I am grateful that when my life slips
from chaos and exhaustion to mourning and despondency, that Christ surrounds me with people who care enough to share hope.

The desire to break camp here and be with Christ is powerful. 

Some days I can think of nothing better. 

Paul in Philippians 1:23 MSG 

Paul is open about his desire to leave this earth ...

then he boldly makes plans to stay.

So I plan to be around awhile, companion to you 

as your growth and joy in this life of trusting God continues.

Paul in Philippians 1:25

Paul invites us to trust God and be companions to each other here on earth.

On the days when we can think of nothing better than breaking camp with life here on earth – finding a friend to pray with, acknowledging our sorrows before God, is essential.

Praying with her until God caresses our hearts with the chocolate embrace of hope is life changing, equips us to make a plan to stay.


Rw

Missions in Action

"I used to hate being alive. Now my biggest joy comes from being
able to work and provide for myself, to be able to work in the
daytime and go home to a peaceful sleep at night."

— a fashionABLE woman

When a Missions In Action video first pops up in my Facebook news feed, one face is familiar. In a later episode, in a van filled with people, I recognize two.

The world is smaller than we think.

In Episode #6 the host is milking a cow ... by hand. I laugh and share the link. In Episode #8, the guys are 'helping' weave fashionABLE cotton scarves. I smile, then laugh. Missions in Action captures the hope.

This past weekend, in the beautiful space in Oswego IL, a man sits next to me. We talk about the scarves, the photo of his sponsored child that hangs on his 'fridge, how the scarves, photos and t-shirts bring opportunities to talk about our passions, the work we witness, the hope. He is wearing a World Vision t-shirt.

The next morning, as I tearfully admit to the group my exhaustion, I feel a hand of comfort on my shoulder. Later, there are words of encouragement, a brief hug and a smile. As noon approaches, our meeting begins to wind down. The man sitting next to me and another member of our group leave for the airport.

An hour or so later, my husband warms up our Jeep, brushes the snow from the windshield, puts our suitcase in the back seat. As I pull the seat belt across my lap, my husband asks if I am ok. He too has seen my tears.

He reaches into his pocket, hands me a t-shirt, a World Vision t-shirt. He says, "When Alex and Scott left for the airport, Alex gave me this, asked me to give it to you."

More tears, then laughter.

Once more I wonder how this 5th grade GIRL, ended up in this place.

Today, I smile and extend an invitation to you: please take a few moments to witness the hope at Missions in Action. Share with me your favorite episode.

The world is smaller than we think.

Cheers everyone!

Rw
.
Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Proverbs 31:8
.

Christmas Countdown Day 9

When Jesus saw him stretched out by the
pool and knew how long he had been there,
he said, "Do you want to get well?"
John 5:6

Good question. Do I want to get well?

I am a person who sometimes hangs on
and on and on and on. And, I am learning
to let go. By no means did this change
come naturally. Healing change within me
is a Divine Intervention.

I am a work in progress.



10 ... 9 ...

The final countdown to Christmas is upon us and there seems to be a compulsion, a greedy need to clutch tightly the traditions
of Christmases PAST, to demand a son and his wife abandon her family - or a daughter and her husband desert his - to put US first, celebrate Christmas like we ALWAYS did.

I am tired of the drama, the competition for affection, the way it pulls apart newly married couples, strangles budding relationships, pits our families against one another.

This Christmas, will we stop demanding a holiday as it ALWAYS was, bemoaning the absence of those we coerce and manipulate with our neediness? Will we choose instead to encourage those around us in every thought and word, celebrate this Miraculous Birth Day with love, hope and faith in Christ?

Will we will hear and respond to Jesus' question:

Do you want to get well?

Jesus replied, "Moses gave you this law because you are so heartless. But in the beginning God made a man and a woman. That's why a man leaves his father and mother and gets married.
He becomes like one person with his wife. Then they are no longer two people, but one. And no one should separate a couple that God has joined together." Mark 10

Rw
.

EZ Autumn Blossoms

In the shadowed
northwest corner of
the flower bed
surrounding
our front porch,
strong purple blossoms
atop delicate stems
await the arrival
of midday sun.

Basking in
the warmth of
southern exposure,
a precocious yellow flower
with rich orange center
signals the inner
vitality of her family,
even as her sisters
emerge as seed.

The honeysuckle
is not an early riser,
but a slowly
awakening bloom.
She will play outside
long after her neighborhood
playmates lay down to rest.
Through frigid icy months
she will wear her foliage,
a warm and rugged coat,
sheltering chirping birds.


Resting in God's care, the flowers do not worry about tomorrow, but live and bloom and seed in autumn harmony, in close proximity to one another, in the care of our Creator.

In the cold predawn shadows, when my rest is interrupted by the toxic speculation of anxiety, will I fondle the dark and dangerous gods of what if... ?

I, the Lord, am your God ... have no other gods besides me.
You shall not take the name of the Lord God in vain.
Remember to keep holy the Lord's Day.
Honor your father and your mother.
You shall not kill.
You shall not commit adultery.
You shall not steal.
You shall not bear false witness.
You shall not covet your neighbor's spouse.
You shall not covet your neighbor's goods.

Or choose passionate belief in Christ?

Love the Lord your God with all your heart,
and with all your soul, and with all your mind.
You shall love your neighbor as yourself.

Like the flowers we are invited to grow and rest, each in her own season, each in harmony with others.

Strong and delicate. Precocious and vital.

We are not to worry about the storms expected tonight, but intentionally engage God, spending our earthbound seasons sharing the promise of gentle rains and fertile soil, protective blankets of snow, and the warmth of the sunlight.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation,
by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving,
present your requests to God.
Philippians 4:6

Rw


EZ Autumn Blossoms copyright 2011 rjw (there's a book in here somewhere)

EZ Coffee Rules

My self-imposed limit, 8oz coffee daily, lasted about 3 weeks. The weather turned colder and a full 14oz mug of steaming liquid felt more substantial. A day or so later, a second splash from carafe to cup was too tempting to resist, and by the end of that week my return to a multiple-cup habit was complete.

I didn't intend to give up coffee, or even limit my consumption for an extended period of time. I set no other parameters nor goals.

What amazes me is how quickly my habit returned once I quit focusing on the well-defined 8oz limit, once the measuring cup was returned to its drawer.

A wood placard hangs above a door in my office. I've owned it for more than a decade, and remember vividly the day it became mine. I was shopping with my parents and my sister, the one closest to me in age. Reading the sign, I laughed aloud at the sentiment. Dad didn't see the humor.

I want to believe the placard is mine simply because it made me laugh. In reality, Dad's less-then-enthusiastic reaction played a bigger part in my decision than I want to admit. My joy was actually enhanced by his displeasure. Why is that?

Within the child me resides a measuring stick for success, a tidy chart with room for lots of gold stars.

I, the Lord, am your God. You shall have no other gods besides me.
You shall not take the name of the Lord God in vain.
Remember to keep holy the Lord's Day.
Honor your father and your mother.
You shall not kill.
You shall not commit adultery.
You shall not steal.
You shall not bear false witness.
You shall not covet your neighbor's spouse.
You shall not covet your neighbor's goods.

The twenty-something me hated being treated like a child. She threw temper tantrums. She crashed the fences of limits and parameters like a teenager breaking curfew.

The thirty-something me crash landed, limping away from the wreckage that was once my faith and walking away from the church.

In Christ, God gives me new rules, a new Ruler.

Love the Lord your God with all your heart,
and with all your soul, and with all your mind.
You shall love your neighbor as yourself.

God's joy was not dissuaded by my displeasure. Why is that?

Rw

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EZ Coffee Rules copyright 2011 rjw (there's a book in here somewhere)

EZ

I believed faith would be EZ:

• an ancient stone stairway with beautiful wood handrails and arched windows framing breathtaking views
• an urban fire escape connecting landings filled with pretty potted gardens and vintage stools for sitting
• a well-maintained ladder anchored in a sturdy brick wall.

I believed my fear of heights would vanish and the path upward would be a straight forward list of 10 steps:

I, the Lord, am your God... no other gods besides me.
You shall not take the name of the Lord God in vain.
Remember to keep holy the Lord's Day.
Honor your father and your mother.
You shall not kill.
You shall not commit adultery.
You shall not steal.
You shall not bear false witness.
You shall not covet your neighbor's spouse.
You shall not covet your neighbor's goods.

It is not EZ. I am standing beneath a ladder fastened 40 feet in the air, maybe higher. Even with intense athletic training and Olympic-level gifted physical ability, I could not make a leap high enough to grasp and hang from the lowest rung. I am going to need help, lots and lots of help. I am going to need to do some work. I need to let go of my simple checklist and pride in my own behavior, ease my tight-fisted grasp on control.

My hands and heart need to be open:

Love the Lord your God with all your heart,
and with all your soul, and with all your mind.
You shall love your neighbor as yourself.

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, 

neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, 

nor any powers, neither height nor depth, 

nor anything else in all creation, 

will be able to separate us from the love of God 

that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Romans 8:38-39

Me + God ≠  EZ.

Rw

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Upending Einstein

EZ copyright 2011 rjw (there's a book in here somewhere)

HGTV

I like watching HGTV, especially the shows where people tackle projects. I am drawn to the sharing of a vision, the demolition, the rebuilding. I am captivated by the moment of hopelessness when a problem 'bigger than expected' is discovered.

There is difficulty and pain in the moment of hopelessness, yet the joy in the finished project grains depth, becomes greater. The homeowners appreciate the completed room with a bonus: they view themselves differently, more capable and knowledgeable. Self-image is remodeled too.

The LORD merely spoke,

and the heavens were created.

... breathed the word,

and all the stars were born.

... assigned the sea its boundaries

and locked the oceans in vast reservoirs.

Psalm 33:6-7 NLT

As the green leaves splash on autumn color, and fall gently glides into another day, I am learning to embrace the remodeling of my self-image, the unfolding of my strengths and weakness, my moments of hopelessness and joy.

Rw
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