I'm Sorry

Day 58 reading assignment:
Leviticus 20:22-22:16
Mark 9:1-29
Psalm 43:1-5
Proverbs 10:18


I received an email today from a dear friend who just started reading sawasquirrel.  She said some nice things that I treasure but I was also disturbed by other things she told me.  She said yesterday's post was 'overwhelmingly overwhelming' to her.  After her many years as a Christian servant leaving her feeling discouraged and disappointed in herself, she felt envious that I had achieved something she hadn't.  And had she not gone on to read the post before yesterday's she wouldn't be comfortable to be around me because I was something she longed to be and had not mastered.  She gleaned, from these posts, that I was at peace and in such a good place.  And ultimately that yesterday's post made her feel overwhelmed by her own imperfections.  


I seriously hope I have misunderstood her meaning, but in the event anyone else out there has misunderstood my message these past 58 days, I need to set the record straight.  The following lines are my response to her email and I send it out there to whomever it may concern.  I offer up my heartfelt and most sincere apology if any of these posts conveyed a message of self-serving arrogance.  Or if I, in any way, portrayed myself in a light that made anybody think that I think I have it all together..... :


What on earth are you talking about???? If that is what you got out of my blog- then I have done something incredibly WRONG!!!First of all you have to begin at the beginning. Go back in to Sept and read starting with "Do What You Dread"

•  I am one BIG (literally and figuratively) mistake.  A mess.  A failure.  A hypocrite.  A bumbling idiot.  A quitter of all things.  An insecure fool....the list goes on. I am many times ALL those things and more all at the same time.
• I am learning, with teensy tiny baby steps to find God's peace...not my own, in the midst of this beautiful mess called life.
• The cross I (we all) carry in this life is a thankless one for sure but I think I have finally gotten old and beaten down enough to no longer need the thanks....most days. :o)
• I am sooo affected by this worldly world but at least I will not give up trying to NOT be.
• I am so NOT completely gracious about anything!!!
• I have so NOT mastered standing up for myself, but life after 50 is making that slightly more do-able.
• I am a big ole, pathetic, self pitying, middle aged woman who has quit just about everything I ever thought about starting.  My life is closer to being over and I have left no great legacy.  
• For now I have committed to reading the Bible through in one year and I feel it changing me-that scares me too...and I am only on day 58, what if I quit this too?
• All we have is today. I am pledging this minute to follow God as best I can, 5 minutes from now could be another story.
• If I have sent out some kind of arrogant message that I have it all together I need to send out a heartfelt apology to you and the other (9) people who read it- and I will remove this blog from the page this instant-because the opposite of that is what is true.  The whole gist of it is meant to be that we slog through  doing what we hope is the best we can and failing daily- but God already knew that about us and loves us anyway. I try on a daily basis to die to myself so that my feelings won't get hurt (but mostly to be pleasing to God) but guess what?  Before I know it, my feelings are hurt or angry or something else that a person dead to one's self should not feel.
• I am so sorry if it made you feel envy or badly about yourself in anyway.  I was hoping by revealing what a loser I am that people might feel just an eensy bit better about who they are......
• xox

I need to follow up these last lines with:  I was hoping by revealing what a loser I am as a struggling Christian, that others out there struggling in the same ways might be encouraged to just keep on keepin' on, one day at a time...sometimes just one minute at a time.  One foot in front of the other, never totally succumbing to the discouragement the enemy so wants us to focus on.

                 -More men are sorry for speaking, than keeping the silence-
                                                                                    Anonymous

Born to Serve

Days 56 and 57 reading assignment:
Leviticus 16:29-20:21
Mark 7:24-8:38
Psalm 41:1- 42:11
Proverbs 10:15-17

Besides preferring my funny side, my husband Brent likes it best when these posts are about him.  He constantly reminds me that it is, indeed, all about him.  After twenty-six years I fully understand the real truth in his remarks, no matter how hard he tries to pretend to only be teasing.

I take full responsibility for this monster I have created.  As the youngest of six siblings my servant internship started very early.  "Cindy change the channel."  "Cindy get the ice cream."  "Oh don't get up, Cindy can get it."  Yes I was born to serve, be it involuntary submission or sheer ignorance, I was born to serve.
My friend Jane said I reminded her of the All in the Family character, Edith Bunker, who was always hurrying to the needs of her Archie.  Archie was always perched comfortably in his favorite chair and waiting impatiently for Edith to place the can of beer in his hand at the end of his hard day.  My Brent also likes to be all comfy and cozy on the couch.  When he hears me in the kitchen he is so sure that I am procuring a snack for him, that when I attempt to surprise him, there he sits with his back to me, right arm outstretched, palm up, to alert me to just leave the dish in his hand...quietly, so as not to disturb his movie.  Does it cross my mind to invert the dish on his head?  Almost always but that would mean a mess for me to clean up as well.  All of this said, I ultimately know who Brent is and how he misbehaves is the direct result of choices I made long ago.  A choice to love and because of that love, to serve as well, even in the midst of obnoxious behavior. :o)

The Bible is chocked full of verses on serving.  These words of wisdom refer to serving the poor and serving the unlovable and ultimately serving without getting anything in return.  It is easy to serve my comedienne husband, and my family.  From them I get so much in return.  I think God gives us our loves to practice on.  But then he expects us to take it on out there and use it, expecting nothing in return.  We are called to serve the people He puts in our lives.  Beating our egos into submission, He expects us to be the foot washers rather than the feet being washed.  It is important to put the dish in that demanding outstretched hand even if we believe the dish belongs inverted on the head.  Why?  Because God is the creator of love.  He is love and ultimately because He loves us.....even in the midst of our own obnoxious behavior.

like sands through the hour glass...So are the Days of Our Lives

Days 48-55 reading assignment:
Leviticus 4:1- 16:28
Mark 2:13- 7:23
Psalm 36:1- 40:17
Proverbs 10:1-14

I'm not getting lazy, nor have I seen any squirrels.  My absence is purely circumstantial and I am doing my best to get some semblance of routine back in my life.  But it is always something.  And yes I do realize that I don't corner any markets with time deficits or family problems.  Our friends are a mixed bag of ages, geographical locations and economic levels.  Everybody has a story, heartaches, and worries.  Some handle it better than others and others don't handle it at all.  I've come to the conclusion that life is not meant to be easy or even happy.  We think that a series of bad days is some sort of curse.  If we could just see these days more as what are typical days of our lives, we might be able to really celebrate and experience the joy of a very random "good day."

I have been traveling a lot lately.  Not to places exotic or tropical, although Redding, Red Bluff and Chico, California feel more tropical than what our local weather has had to offer.  These short jaunts do give me many hours to ponder past conversations with friends and family members who are struggling with life, children, spouses and health issues.  I think we all reach a point when we want to say, 'why me?'  But what we really need to ask is, 'why not me?'  What, other than sheer exhaustion, apathy and a very rebellious spirit exempts me from life's lessons in personal growth?

I set out this morning to "be funny."  While he hasn't come right out and said it, my husband likes me better funny...well at least he likes the funnier posts better.  And while I don't feel any dark clouds hovering overhead, I can't get my humor rythm either.  What I am experiencing is the overwhelming thankfulness for family, friends and life.  Without these things one has no pain, but that which brings us pain also brings so much joy.

I had a text message this morning from a dear friend.  He has faced many serious struggles this past year but he is learning to find the joy in his journey.  His text said: "Good morning.  What a beautiful day.  It's windy, cold and snowy in the hills and my puppy pooped on the floor.  But I look at all these things as good.  The wind blows the leaves out of my yard, the cold makes the leaves look awesome.  Snow is good for deer hunting.  And I'm lucky to have a loving puppy.  Thank you Lord."  This from a guy who could find little to be positive about six months ago.

  Life is blowing by at mach speed.  Children are growing up and parents are growing old.  While life is too long on some days, Psalms 39:4-5 says:
                                                                       Lord, remind me how brief
                                                                       my time on earth will be.
                                                                       Remind me that my days are
                                                                       numbered --
                                                                       how fleeting my life is.
                                                                       You have made my life no longer
                                                                        than the width of my hand.
                                                                       My entire lifetime is just a
                                                                        moment to you;
                                                                       at best each of us is but a breath.
And then the clencher that packs the punch:
                                                                       We are merely moving shadows,
                                                                        and all our busy rushing ends in
                                                                                     NOTHING


It's time again for me to slap myself around, put on my big girl underpants and start behaving the way I wish I felt.  While I would love nothing better than to lie around wollering in a big, fat, pity party-  I'm thinking my time would be much better spent giving thanks for all these days of my life.


                           - I could have missed the pain,
                                                  but I'd of had to miss the dance-
                            lyrics from Garth Brook's "The Dance"    
                                              

Help I'm Complaining and I Can't Stop!

Days 45-47 reading assignment:
Exodus37:1-40:38
Leviticus 1:1-3:17
Matthew 28:1-20
Mark 1:1-2:12
Psalm 34:11-35:28
Proverbs 9:9-18

For whatever reason, I don't get out much anymore.  In fact I go to town so rarely I find I am easily overwhelmed by the busyness of it all.  The crowds and smells and noise is almost too much.  My family thinks I'm kidding when I say I wish Safeway would get a clothing line.

I'm getting a lot of old ladyisms too.  Is it just me or is every store manager, policeman, gas station attendant and doctor twelve years old?  I get grouchy when these people are ...well... stupid.   I ran an errand for my sister-in-law. It should have been a quick trip to Penney's.  But when I got there the catalogue guy sent me up to the shoe department who sent me back to the catalogue guy.  Not once but twice I did this.  Finally the first guy, excuse me, 'Sales Representative',  I spoke with finally punched information into a computer and BINGO!  There was all the information he needed to get me on my way within one minute. I was there for an hour.  And don't even get me started on my experience with the local car dealership.  Let me just say we won't be buying locally. And what is it with the people walking to and from their cars in the Costco parking lot?  Is nobody aware of the multitudes trying to get around them?  I sat there idling today while person after person heaved their consumer laden carts, not quite on the side-walk and not completely out of my bump range.  It's infuriating!

  I went to the Farmer's Market with my daughters earlier this summer on a very specific tamale expedition.  We hunted down our favorite vendor, the one with the chicken chile tamales.  She was sold out but the guy across the way had a nice spinach and cream cheese tamales.  SPINACH AND CREAM CHEESE?....IN A TAMALE!  Is nothing sacred?  I actually got mad.  I got mad because some poor misguided person actually thought spinach/cream cheese tamales would be a good idea.  "The Tamales of What's Happening Now" kind of mentality.  My girl's threatened to send me to the car if I didn't stop with the ranting, so I ate one.  Okay it wasn't horrible but I was still very disappointed.  I don't like this about myself, feeling all crochety and impatient.  But are basic manners no longer a criteria in the customer service handbook?  Is the customer never right anymore?  When exactly did our standards drop so low?  And last but not least, do these arrogant pip squeak car salesmen think I was born yesterday?(We did do all our communication over the phone after-all.)

Evidently the answers to those questions are unimportant.  The question in my reading today asked: "Do you treat every person you meet as though he were Jesus?".......................ouchie

-Nobody can be so amusingly arrogant as a young man who has just discovered an old idea and thinks it's his own-
                                               Sydney J Harris

..misty water colored MEMORIES (sing it in your Barbara Streisand voice)

Day 44 reading assignment:
Exodus 35:10-36:38
Matthew 27:32-66
Psalm 34:1-10
Proverbs 9:7-8

I read a lot of memoirs and have thought it would be fun to write mine, just for my family's entertainment of course.  The problem is, with the exception of a very few, I have no childhood memories before the age of 10.  And without memories, one has no "memoir."  This makes me sad because I had a title and everything: "Homecoming Queen in October and Pregnant by Prom."  Now I'm trying to work that title in to a bible study I would like to write for teen-age girls instead.  It is catchy after-all.  But it only refers to a short segment of reckless choices in my high-school days.  That in itself could render it useless as my memoir title, but what a huge role those choices played in the rest of my life.

 I spent the first part of my childhood in very southern California.  The Imperial Valley is a huge agricultural belt twenty-three miles from Mexicali, Mexico.  We lived in a tiny farming community on the corner of "Nowhere and the Sand Dunes."  My mother's mantra was always, "you kids go outside and play"and despite the fact that this is rattlesnake paradise, I don't know if I wore shoes until I was eleven years old.  But my mother was a force to say the least, so go outside we did.  My brother, nearly four years my senior could keep us busy even when the typical summer days paled as the morning sun fried the color out of the ozone.  We had three seasons: The days the wind blew the dirt in our eyes, the day it rained, and hot.  For fun we would take our be-be guns out to the old roofless shop and shoot lizards.  We liked to empty our guns on the lizards, filling them so full of be-bes, they would become our very own "organic" bean bags.  Then, when we tired of squishing them around for the sensory thrill their copper infused bodies offered, we would pinch the pimpled corpse until the be-be popped back out.  This last phase didn't hold our attention long, for after a few extractions the lizard body got slimy from body fluids and we were grossed out.  Disgusting? Yes. But hours of unsupervised fun?  Absolutely.

The environment of my childhood reminds me of scenes from my Bible reading.  The arrid landscape.  The fertile soil.  Pomegranates, lemons and figs grew in our yard and the surrounding region was, and is, a huge supplier of the nation's dates.  I always start  this walk down memory lane with a snapshot in my mind. I see the back of myself.  A little girl, dressed in her brothers well worn hand-me-downs, always barefoot.  In the picture, I am leaning against a front-porch post.  The one the  locusts liked to shed their skins on.  I can remember standing at this post regularly at a certain time of day.  I would fix my eyes on the dirt road across the way, the one that ran down the canal bank.  My eyeballs burning from this deliberate gaze I wouldn't rest until I saw the dust cloud from my daddy's turquoise truck.  The relief I felt from this sighting always left me euphoric because even though I didn't understand it in those days, my father was a functioning alcoholic and the absense of this sighting meant bad things were coming.

It is very interesting to me how since I started reading the Bible consistently, God has begun to permeate every part of my life, of me.  I see everything now in  biblical analogies.  It's a strange and almost bitter-sweet aha moment.  Moments with big regrets of a life with more time behind me than in front of me. Time lost that I didn't spend in a Godly way much less with God personally.  I picture God as that little girl, waiting for me to show up, knowing if I don't, things are coming that He doesn't want me to face without Him.  I made a lot of choices that did not include God.  How incredibly lucky for me that God's glory is revealed in his mercy, grace, compassion, faithfulness, justice and last but so not least, forgiveness.  He took my choices, the messes I made, especially those high-school years, and managed to clean them up, wringing blessing after blessing out of them.

Have you read any good memoirs lately?  I've got a good one for you,  it's not a very catchy title, it's God's memoir.  It's called the Bible.

Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.                 -The Wonder Years-

Enemies and Idols

Days 40-43 reading assignment:
Exodus 29:1-35:9
Matthew 26:14-27:31
Psalm 31:19-33:22
Proverbs 8:14-9:6

Our grandson Sawyer is very literal.  He doesn't get it when we ask him if he would like spaghetti for dinner.  We have to call it pasta and red sauce.  After we get him "dressed" in the morning, feeling proud of whatever he is wearing, he comes in to ask if we like his "dressed".  He had an accident his first day of pre-school a few weeks ago because the teacher asked him if he needed to go potty.  He said a firm "no" then proceeded to poop his pants.  I have no clue where it originated, but somewhere through the course of his potty training, he started referring to it as "going brown poop."  So Linz informed his teacher she would need to ask him if he would like to 'go brown poop'.  Literal and specific.  I understand this about Sawyer because I too take things very literally.

  Seventy-two Psalms, almost half the book speaks of enemies.  I keep reading without pause through key scriptures because I don't believe I have enemies.  But enemies are not just the literal sense of the word.  Satan, of course, is our greatest enemy but according to my Bible, temptations can be our enemies.  My application lists examples:

1. Money - never had it, never will
2. Success - not a goal of a dedicated underachiever like me 
3. Prestige - see #2
4. Lust - I sincerely don't think so but this Bible reading has me second guessing everything these days

It's a quick shot down the list, I lick the tip of my pencil and with head held high and without hesitation I check myself off this list.  But something nags.  I get out of Psalms and back to Exodus where the subject matter is all about the Israelites and their incessant need for their mindless idols.  Come on  people puhleeze!   The literal voice in my head sings a righteous; "No golden calves at our house by golly!"  Finally I can feel confident of receiving some tidbit of God's approval in this area.  And with that thought, completely against my will, I flash on the things I have prioritized above God.  The list is long.  And wanting some semblance of self respect I will keep the worst of it to myself.  But it starts with my obsession with my garden.  I couldn't begin to say how many hours I have logged there.  Nobody could know this by looking at my garden today because oddly, circumstances this year have removed almost all of my time in my garden.  Is this some sort of spiritual message?  Nah.  At the other end of my long, dirty list of things more important than God?  I can't believe I am saying this but it is my family.  I am a serial mother.  Don't mess with my family.  But God calls us not to love anything or anyone more than we love Him.....  literally.

Our great temptation is still to shape God to our liking, to make Him convenient to obey or ignore.

Lift Me Up Before You Go Go

Reading Assignment Days 36-38:
Exodus 21:22-28:43
Matthew 24:1-26:13
Psalm 29:1-31:18
Proverbs 7:6-8:13
James 1:2-12


I am not a negative person but when the crisis comes, I take it to the worst possible scenario in my head and convince myself of the impending doom.  Like the time my granddaughter, Morgan, fell face down on a speeding treadmill.  Her mother, my Abbie, knew that playing it cool was the answer since Morg's has a bent for the dramatic.  It was Easter and just as we were ready to sit down at the dinner table we heard a scream that could bloody an eardrum.  Abbie got to Morgan first and was evaluating the seriousness of the injury... a bloody lip.  I arrived in the room and seeing a lip that resembled raw hamburger, I started screaming, "CALL 911!"  Through gritted teeth my daughter cheerily ordered me out of the room.

It seems like I am always waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Rather than being uplifting, the philosophy I hand down to my children is "When God closes a door, He also slams all the windows as well."  Or,  "What doesn't kill you makes you wish you were dead."  I simply am not one for rosey cliche's.  Last year when my sister-in-law was preparing for a dreaded family gathering after her father's memorial, trying to encourage her, I lovingly said, "Well just think, for as badly as you feel right now, this time tomorrow you're going to feel way worse!"  We had a great laugh over it.

My daughter Lindsay and husband CJ and their three boys are living with us.  They moved in the first of July and since their arrival it seems like whatever could go wrong, has gone wrong.  Their oldest son, 4 year old Sawyer, is autistic.  When they got the news that 22 month old Thatcher may be autistic as well, they put their house on the market and headed for home in order to have family support as well as practical help. Since the move they have endured so many disappointments.  From financial challenges to health issues with Thatcher, and countless things in between.  To top it off, the house has not sold.  Moving your family in with your parents is its own lesson in humility but with all they have endured, so far, that may be the easy part of this journey.

In the second verse of the first chapter of James (yes I saw a squirrel and ended up in James, get used to it) it says:  Consider it pure joy, whenever (not IF) you face trials of many kinds, because you know the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  It is probably no accident that James is one of my favorite books of the bible.  When I got home from a three day trip yesterday, Linz was feeling anxious and we had a conversation about the many challenges she is praying about now.  If I have learned anything about grown children moving home it is to take the burdens straight to prayer as opposed to handing out unsolicited advice....and I have learned this lesson thee very hardest way.  In fact, it is safe to assume that I haven't actually mastered this one.  Just ask Lindsay.  But when your kids are hurting, you hurt right along with them and want so very badly to fix it.

Yesterday afternoon when little Thatcher was playing on the trampoline with his cousin, I heard him cry.  Thatcher cries often with the many things that frustrate him on a daily basis.  He has few words to help us understand his needs, so Thatcher's crying is nothing alarming.  But hanging with his cousin Matt is one of his favorite things in the world and he rarely cries when Matt is around so the crying caught my attention.  Within a minute I was sure something was seriously wrong.  Linz, just out of the shower, hair dripping, and no make-up headed to the ER.  Thatcher's leg was broken.  Not a "buckle fracture" that can happen at this age.  Children's bones at this age are likened to a green branch of a tree, and when stressed, the bone "buckles".  Thatcher's bone just below his knee is broken, not buckled.  'A clean break,' the doctor said.  He is in a splint from the top of his thigh to the tips of his toes, and he is miserable.  He will see an orthopedic doctor this week for a full cast.

It was late last night before things got back to any kind of normalcy.  Linz was pretty exhausted from the ordeal and she laid her head on my shoulder just needing a hug.  This was my cue for some encouragement.  "See," I said earnestly, "things really can get worse!"  I'm not insensitive by any stretch of the imagination, we just needed a laugh.

If I were writing the application for this verse in James, I would say: "Give thanks for the trials you have, because when they get worse it makes you wish you had the first set of troubles back again!"  Evidently that is what separates me from a bible scholar.  Continuing in James, verse 12 says:  Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love Him.

This one is for Linz who, like me, is a hater of all things cliche'.  To say 'Let go and let God' can send us both into fits of uncontrollable, as well as inappropriate giggles- depending on the circumstance.  So to her I will just say:  "hang on baby."

                                                -The cliche' is dead poetry-
                                                                            Gerald Brenan

Cold Water

Days 33-35 reading assignment
Exodus 15:19-21:21
Matthew 22:1-23:39
Psalm 27:1-28:9
Proverbs 6:20-7:5

We have been car shopping. This is not a favorite experience of mine.  I have been dreading it because Brent has fallen hard for the new Camaro.  It's a fine car, all shiny and sleek.  But I am an old cow and old cows shouldn't drive new Camaros.  I'm sure I would look like a lower class version of a cheetah or leopard or some kind of cat- what is that term for the old woman that hooks up with the young guy?   At any rate I wasn't feeling it for the hot car idea.  I am the polar opposite of the ... Bob-cat? Jaguar? I wish I could remember which cat it is.  I am more like the "old gray mare, she ain't what she used to be."  I don't need a frump mobile but I don't need a hot rod that only comes in primary colors either.  As the new car quest continues I realize there is a much wider variety of options offered than there were when I bought my car eleven years ago.  Me oh my we Americans are in to our creature comforts aren't we?  The idea of a new car is fun and I get just as sucked in as the next guy when it comes to bells and whistles.  My husband, on the other hand, would be quite content with manual windows and transmissions....with the exception of that sparkly Camaro.  It all feels a little self-indulgent when the salesman is reading down the checklist of options and I want to say "check" to every suggestion he makes.  There is a point when finally I have to say "Whoa big pony, that's enough."

In Matthew 23:25 Jesus is addressing the teachers of religious law and those wiley Pharisees.  He refers to them as hypocrites because they are so careful to 'clean the outside of the cup and the dish, but inside they are filthy- full of greed and self-indulgence.'

This reminded me of a joke a friend emailed:  A man was visiting his elderly grandfather for the weekend.  He arrived at dinner time and as they sat down to eat, the younger man noticed the plate seemed filmy.  When he asked the grandpa if he had washed the dishes, the old man replied "Those plates are as clean as cold water can get them."  At lunch the next day the younger man saw bits of dried egg on the plates, obviously left over from their breakfast.  He questioned the old man again and this time Grandpa answered slightly agitated, "I told you those plates are as clean as cold-water can get them."  The man shrugged it off and finished the meal.  They were leaving to go to town when grandpa looked at the dog on the porch and said, "Cold-water, get in the truck!"

The verse in Matthew continues with Jesus instructing to first wash the inside of the dish and then the outside will become clean as well.  The application says:  Jesus condemned the Pharisees and religious leaders for outwardly appearing upright and holy but inwardly remaining full of corruption and greed (with a healthy side of self-indulgence.)  Living our Christianity merely as a show for others is like washing the outside of the cup...or letting the dog lick it clean.  When we are clean on the inside, our cleanliness on the outside won't be a sham.

It all reads differently to me as I stay in the Bible on a daily basis.  I feel like God reveals things that I previously skipped over because most of it didn't feel relevant.  I was quick to say 'that doesn't pertain to me because I don't do that.'  Now I get squidgy with words like hypocrite, greed and self-indulgent.  I am humbled on a daily basis as I trek through this journey of reading the bible in a year. But along with the humility comes encouragement and hope. And maybe I have a few more lessons to learn because right now I'm sure if I twist and manipulate, I can show Brent where the scriptures say a Camaro is a bad idea, but a bell and whistle or two on the car of my choice could be justified....<

A Pharisee, an Israelite and two blind beggars

Days 31-32 reading assignment
Exodus 12:14-15:18
Matthew 20:29-21:46
Psalm 25:16-26:12
Proverbs 6:12-19

The title really wasn't meant to sound like the beginning of a bad joke but wow where to begin?

1)  I am becoming completely fed up with the Israelites in Exodus as well as the Pharisees in Matthew.  Firstly can we offer those Hebrews a nice goat cheese with that whine?  I hope I am not being disrespectful to God when I picture Him pacing around with His fingers in His ears repeating "lalalalala," to drown the drone of the faithless, whining, and complaining of their collective voice.

2) And then there are the religiously wretched Pharisees who remind me of the s-s-s-slithering s-s-s-snake in the movie The Jungle book.  They demanded to know where Jesus got His authority.  They didn't really want an answer to their question, they only wanted to trap Him.
 I read a comment from a reader that said;  "...how many of us listen only for what we WANT to hear, then complain when we don't hear exactly that?"  The application in my bible read; 'The Pharisees wanted the truth only if it supported their own views and causes."  Hmmm.

3) In Matthew 20 there is a story of the blind beggars who could see that Jesus was the Messiah, while the religious leaders who witnessed Jesus' miracles were blind to His identity, refusing to open their eyes to the truth.  The application reads; "Seeing with your eyes doesn't guarantee seeing with your heart."

As usual when I get really disgusted with the people who got to see the miracles first-hand, there's usually a cold slap in the face waiting for me just around the corner.  Like when I was rolling my eyes in Ex 13 because God couldn't take the Israelites on the shortest route out of Egypt because if the people were faced with battle they might turn back to Egypt.  Really?  Are they that faithless and stupid to walk back into slavery?  But then how many times have I repeated the same bad choice only to have the consequence take me back into slavery?  How many times have I turned my problems over to God only to jerk them back and continue to worry over them because I lacked faith?  Again with the application: If God doesn't lead you along the shortest path to your goal, don't complain or resist.  Follow Him willingly and trust Him to lead you safely around unseen obstacles.  He can see the end of your journey from the beginning and He knows the safest and best route.

I was especially disgruntled when God gave the Hebrews the pillars of cloud and fire.  These I learned were examples of theophany: God appearing in a physical form....GOD APPEARING IN A PHYSICAL FORM!  I read the application on these verses, it went like this: "God gave the Hebrews these 'pillars' so they would know day and night God was with them on their journey to the promised land.  What has God given us so that we can have the same assurance?  The Bible -- something the Israelites did not have."  I have had a Bible in my home for my entire life.  Count 'em folks 54 years.  I am a rabid reader of books.  My books make my husband crazy.  When I am having a bad day I don't buy shoes, I buy books.  The greatest invention of all times was Starbucks inside Barnes and Noble.  I can kill two vices with one stone.  In my book collection are many bibles.  Oh I read the passages required for a Bible study, but until now I have NEVER read the Bible.  It's kind of like when I bought the entire collection of Billy Blanks Kickboxing videos.  I proceeded to lie on my couch and watch them and then complain I never lost a pound.  Oh you actually have to participate?  What a concept.  I profess contentment and turn right around and complain about a discomfort or an inconvenience.  I can ask God for answers and whine and cry because I didn't get the answer I wanted.  I can keep God's fingers in His ears all by myself thank you.

 I am a Pharisee.  I am the faithless whining Israelite.  But I hope to be a blind beggar who sees with her heart when I grow up.
  

Shut-up and Listen

Day 30 reading assignment
Exodus 10:1-12:13
Matt 20:1-28
Psalm 25:1-15
Proverbs 6:6-11

Brent and I are off for a weekend of  fun.  No schedules.  Just flying by the seat of our pants.  It's late as I write this from a hotel by the sea in Newport.  It isn't often that we manage a getaway like this.  Our usual trips out of town are generally based around a job.  Brent goes off to fly a plane and I explore on my own.  Our eventual destination this weekend is The Evergreen Air Museum in McMinnville, Oregon.  The Spruce Goose is there and one of us is really excited to see it.  Nearly every trip we take centers around an airplane but at least this time he won't make a getaway in one.

It usually takes a half a day of being on the road for us to leave "home" behind and get into the spirit of a road trip.  Usually because we are mad at each other by the time we get in the car.  Brent and I are like the old television show "The Odd Couple." It centers around Oscar and Felix, two men who are roommates.  Oscar is a slob, Felix is a highly organized neat freak.  I'm Oscar.  And while my charming idiosyncricies tend to drive my 'Felix' over the edge, his indeciveness, almost more than his orderliness, clearly undoes me.  We were wondering today, how many hours/miles we have logged in twenty-six years, wandering around aimlessly repeating: "Where do you want to eat?"
"I don't know, what sounds good to you?" 

Since last Sunday, I believe it is safe to say, I have asked Brent one hundred times, "What day are we leaving?", "How long will we be gone?" and "Where are we going anyway?"  Most of the time he doesn't even say a direct "I don't know."  He just distracts me with a different question...which I immediately answer!

Evidently, according to his version of a (imaginary) conversation we had yesterday, it was determined that we had a decisive plan for hitting the road today.  I didn't get that memo and my lackadaisical approach to getting on the road this morning kind of got his hypothetical panties in a twist.  This man can say more without ever opening his mouth than anyone I have ever known.  So, not being one to be outdone with body language, we had a regular silent screaming match on.  We both got over it after a looong time and we moved on to having fun.  Finally tonight, when he was in a better mood, we had a conversation about it and we both realized we need to hone up on our communication skills.  I automatically put the blame in his court when the problem comes down to one of us not being a good listener.  It certainly isn't my fault because I am, after-all, a very good listener.  Or am I?

In Psalm 25:4 David expresses his desire for God's guidance.  In my application it says the first step to receiving God's guidance is to want  to be guided.  Which requires being in His word and constantly learning from it.  It is through these steps we will gain the wisdom to perceive God's direction for our lives.  And it takes times of being quiet and ...that's right,  listening.

Whether it is in my conversations with my husband or my prayers, I get so wrapped up prattling on or thinking about what I want to say next, I forget to be quiet (let alone courteous) and deliberately listen.  I tend to demand answers from God more than asking for direction.....I think I'll shut-up now.

Me First

Day 29 reading assignment:
Exodus 8:1-9:35
Matt 19:13-30
Psalm 24:1-10
Proverbs 6:1-5

I am not an athlete.  I was not the first or second person chosen for team sports in elementary school.  I wasn't even in the top 10.  I was never a loner, I had friends, but when it came time to choose up sides they didn't want me.  I'm afraid of the ball, I throw like a girl (a non athletic girl)  and I'm incredibly uncoordinated.   I fall UP the stairs in my house almost weekly.  That's no small feat.  I also fall off my shoes if they're tall.  I played softball on a coed league about nineteen years ago. It was not my choice, they were desperate for one more player and they promised to give me a lot of bench time.  They lied.  I spent the season outfield of course.  I never know which outfield is which.  Is it right-field if you are standing at home facing the field on your right?  Or is it left field because you are out there behind first base facing "home" and that puts you on the left?  Yes, I am no athlete.  Whatever.  I was in that outfield behind first base.  It was a night game.  And everytime a new batter was up I would pray quietly but aloud: "Dear God PLEASE don't let them hit it to me."  It never takes the opposing team long to discover where the weak link on the team is.  I needed no neon arrow pointing me out,  I stuck out just fine by my own merit.  They would send the balls right to me everytime.  And everytime I would miss the fly balls, fumble the grounders, or attempt a throw to third when the play was at first.  I wanted to cry.  I changed my prayer at some point that night to: "Please God let me shine, just one time."   My brother and all his cop friends were on this team.  I knew he was thinking, "she wasn't kidding when she said she stunk."  I had my fill of humiliation and made up my mind to "cowboy up."  The batter was in the box.  I new he was hitting to me.  He had been all night.  The bat made contact with the ball and it was as if time was standing still.  I felt courageous.  This was to be my moment.  I positioned the glove in front of my face, took a breath, and closed my eyes.  I opened my eyes moved my glove so I could see and wham!  Actually it was a dull thud but I don't know how to spell that.  I caught the ball....with my mouth.  I dropped to my knees from the pain and now I prayed: "Please God don't let me cry, my brother will be so embarrassed."  I shined all right.  They called time-out.  Everybody was running to see if I still had a pulse.  I looked like a platypus for almost two weeks.  I no longer pray for God to let me shine.

But how good would it feel to come in first?
The only time I stand out in a crowd is when I humiliate myself.  Like the time I went to the movies on the opening night of "Laura Croft: Tomb Raider".   Back when Angelina pledged her life-blood to her soulmate, Billie Bob Thornton.  Friday night, the theater was packed.  It was summer because I was wearing flip flops.  I remember this because it was the flip-flops that made it possible, as I was climbing up the stairs to sit with a friend, to fall flat on my face, spilling pop-corn in the lap of some poor guy who didn't know what to do with, or for me.  There I lay in the aisle, pop-corn everywhere, in a packed house BEFORE the lights were turned down.  "Are you okay?" the man asked genuinely concerned.  If I had my wits about me I would have lied; "I have a siezure disorder."  But instead I avoided his eyes and clamored on up the steps to my friend.  When I was safe in my seat beside her, she looked straight ahead and said,"I would have come to help you but I didn't want anybody to know I was with you."  I guess He figures I need more lessons in humility than to be first at anything.

Today as I was driving home, a car passed me with the license plate that read: Me 1st.  I was in a snotty mood and I said out loud to no one, "Yeah right pal, right after me."  Then of course I realized I was behind him.
I wanted to use that license plate in my blog later, but I intended to try to make it work into something about our self-centered culture.  When I was finally able to get to the reading tonight, I had to laugh at Matthew 19:30.  It is talking about life in eternity: But in the life to come, the first will be last and the last will be first.  HA!   That so works for me.