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.

A Casual Christian...or How to Never Know Jesus(even though you think you do)

Day 3 reading assignment:
Gen 5:1-7:24
Matt 3:7-4:11
Psalm 3:1-8
Proverbs 1:10-19

I wish I had a dollar for everytime I have been ranting like a mad woman at my family, only to stop long enough to answer the phone with a warm and cheery "Hello!" I continue, engaged in the conversation all nicey nice, hang-up and pick up ranting where I left off.  What a phoney!

In Matthew 3:8 John the baptist called people to more than words or rituals.  He told them to change their behavior.  The application on this verse explained that God looks beyond our words and religious activities to see if our conduct (especially when we think no one is looking) backs up what we say.

Imagine sitting in the back of the room at your own funeral listening to what people are saying about you.  What would they say? "Oh my how did Cindy stay so thin?" Yeah not likely.  How about "I never knew Cindy was a christian did you?"  I didn't have to be at my funeral to hear this.  About 9 years ago our second daughter was about to marry the love of her life who was a youth pastor at a local church.  We were very involved in the activities of the county fair in those days and there was much talk among our circle of friends about the impending nuptials.  A dear friend was relaying a conversation to me that she recently had with a mutual friend of ours. I can't say where that conversation was going because at her opening line I went numb and stopped listening.  "So Lindsay's going to be a preachers wife...can you imagine Cindy a born again christian?!"
When I heard this I felt physically sick.  I was immediately aware of God's disappointment in me.  What had I done, how had I behaved that made this friend assume I was the furthest thing from a christian?

My parents were members of the Lutheran church.  Every Sunday my mother would scrub us up and march her 6 children into church delighting in the attention we would bring her.  She would proceed to sing the loudest because she was also very proud of her voice.  At the age of 12 I went through the memorization process of being confirmed in the church and to this day I have no idea what that was about. For awhile I believed we went to church for the spectacle we created.  I understand now that I have no right to these judgements.  My point is that from noon on Sunday until the next Sunday morning, there was no evidence of Christ in any of our lives with the exception of the memorized prayer of thanks at dinner time and at bedtime when my mother would shout from somewhere else in the house, " Say your prayers!"

By the time I was 15  I was dating a boy who claimed he was agnostic.  I had little idea of what this meant (The belief that any existence of God is unknown and probably unknowable) but I was pretty sure it was my ticket to sleeping in on Sunday mornings.  The announcement of my new spiritual philosophy was not well received and I was forced to endure the painful hour on Sunday mornings anyway.  My relationship with the agnostic ended eventually and in the spring of my senior year at the age of 17,  I discovered I was pregnant.  On the date of what would be my senior prom, I married my first husband. Now that's another story for another day anyhoo........After the birth of my son, with the encouragement of a neighbor I began my real search for God.  When my friend made the 'imagine Cindy a chrisian' comment, I had been a christian for 27 years.  Evidently a casual christian at best.  It could have been many things that spurred that comment.  I could laugh with the best of them at a dirty joke, I was a consistent contributor to the gossip mill and certainly took the Lord's name in vain on a regular basis.  I only spoke of my spiritual beliefs in the safe surrounding of other christians.  I changed behaviors to match my environment like a chamelion changes colors. It makes people uncomfortable when you get all lofty and righteous on them.  But #1 on the list of my failures was that I had not been consistent in raising my kids in church, teaching them, by EXAMPLE about faith and reliance on God.
I had never developed a personal relationship with Him which had robbed me of his voice.  I thought it was enough just to believe-and, in theory it is-but I believed with my head.  I never invested my heart.  According to the bible, faith must be more than belief in certain facts.  It must result in actions or it will die away.

Where then does a person learn about faith?  The best answer is; at home.  We all have a front row ticket to the best (or worse) reality show right in our own homes.  It's real and it's raw.  Despite the hypocrisy I saw in the faithlessness of my mother, at least I got a glimpse of God.  My mother's actions at the very least, planted a necessary seed that caused me to seek Him later in my life.  I used to have strong criticisms for much of what my mother did or didn't do.  My reality is that I'm ashamed to admit that I was simply too lazy to get my own children to church, for any reason, selfish or otherwise, with any kind of consistency.

Faith is a rich heritage we can pass down to our children, even if we do it badly.  Borrowing from The Practical Life of Faith: "Whatever else may be said about home, it is the bottom line of life.  It is at home, among family that we come to terms with circumstances.  It is here life makes up its mind.  It's a place where milk is spilled, where toes are stubbed and where people see you in your underwear.  It's real life where real people rub up against real challenges.  How we meet those challenges determines whether the faith of the family flourishes or flounders.  Faith is meant to be an everyday companion, not a weekend guest.  If someone were to peek through the keyhole of your front door what would they see?  For faith to be served up family style nourishing generations to come, 2 things have to happen.  We have to think of our homes as training bases, not holding pens.  The home should be a launching pad for sending children into the world, not a storage facility for isolating them from it. Second we must develop in our homes a contagious confidence in God."  Where was this information when my kids were little?  Luckily it's never too late when it comes to our spirituality.  Being the matriarch of a family is an enormous responsibility.  So,  do as I say not as I did.  NEVER take it casually....I'm the mommy thats why.



       "Preach the gospel at all times, if necessary use words."
                                                                       St.Francis of Assisi

A Fool in Paradise

Day 2 reading assignment:
Gen 3:1-4:26
Matt 2:13-3:6
Psalm 2:1-12
Proverbs 1:7-9

Squirrels are to me what the serpent in the garden was to Eve.  Talk about a woman who had it all!  God told them it was all theirs.  Everything!  Just stay away from the fruit of one (I started to write "measely" but that seemed disrespectful) tree.  Have your fill of everything here but 'no no no don't touch that!'  What does she do?  Loses sight  of ALL that she has and obsesses over the one thing she cannot have.  A few slimy lies from a snake and poof! there goes her contentment.
Snakes assignment complete: Joy robbed.

We live in a society that goes to great lengths to condition us to think life is all about our comfort, our pleasure and our immediate gratification.  We are convinced it really is all about us.  So many people walk around in a constant state of depression, discouragement, disillusionment.  The list goes on. People are exhausted from working their fannies off in order to achieve the next big thing only to switch on the technical device of choice to discover there is a bigger, better, upgraded form out today that renders yesterday's purchase obsolete.  I'm fairly sure there is a contented gerbil spinning on his wheel out there laughing his head off at us humans running in circles chasing our imaginary tails.  "WAH! I want a bigger house. WAH! I want a newer car. WAH WAH! My butt looks big in these pants-I need magic pants but first please pass me that last piece of bruschetta.

God must feel like the parent of the greedy kid who opens the last of an obscene amount of birthday gifts only to say; 'is that all there is?'
"Hey Eve! FYI: To be tempted is not a sin, to give in to it is."  The first blessing lost was contentment, aka:joy.  What a price to pay.
Oh yeah and Eve?  Thanks for being the first one to set a BAD example.  Nice legacy to pass down to the rest of us!

The definition of contentment is wanting what we have.  To be content we must choose to be content and act accordingly.  Eve made it harder but not impossible.


"Image building is the attempt to make impressions that are bigger than we are."
                                                                                                          -unknown-

Rocka bye baby

I was rocking my 8 month old grandson the other day, well technically I was wrestling him to sleep.  He loves to snuggle but he HATES to nap.  I snuggled him tightly in my arms and he didn't fight it so much.  But then his legs would fly out kicking hard away from me.  Our eyes would meet and his sweet drooly mouth would open up to smile I am addicted to.  I snugged him in tighter and lodged his legs between my own until he could not move.  I expected tears and wailing but within minutes he was sound asleep.  Not a conventional way to rock a baby but it got the job done.

This is how I picture my time with God.  There He sits, waiting, while I flit like a hummingbird from busy-ness to busy-ness.  He sits waiting, wanting to hold me, waiting to take my burdens while I dart in and out, resisting capture.  When at last I do light, I'm writhing around trying to kick my legs free.  Unlike a determined grandma, God allows us that blasted "free-will".  He won't rap His legs around my infantile behavior, but instead sets me free to flit while He resumes waiting.... for me to come back.  "Later Lord, I promise, but right now I am busy!"  If the grandkids summon me, or anyone else for that matter, I stop what I'm doing and give my (almost) full attention.  But when my Father, My God that hung His only son on a cross for MY sins, wants a moment of my precious time, I continuously leave him simmering, disappointed and heart broken, on the back burner.  I give Him the last exhausted bits of me when I'm so tired I fall asleep reading His Word.......  I'm going about this all wrong.

Put on the big girl underpants and get on with it!

Day 1 Reading assignment:
Gen:1-2:25
Matt:1-2:12
Psalms: 1:1-6
Proverbs:1:1-6
This is hard.  This showing up to the daily blog page is really hard.  Day 2 and I am having some serious doubts.  I got the reading done, where is my spiritual inspiration?  My days were already full and now I think I can just be clever on a daily basis?  What on earth was I thinking?  I am a gadillion pages from the lessons on perseverance (and complaining).  I started to read ahead but I am doing everything in my power to avoid "the squirrels" and they are everywhere!
Today's squirrels, however, are much cuter and actually have names; Sawyer, Thatcher and Crew.  They are 3 of our 9 fabulous grandkids. Crew is 8 months old and master of the G.I Joe crawl that allows him access to EVERYWHERE.  Thatcher is 21 months, dangerously close to that terrible 2 thing and lets just say it's a good thing he is so stinkin' cute because he's a pistol.  Sawyer is 4, and milk out the nose funny (just like his grampa) and incredibly smart.  He also has autism.  I don't say he's autistic because that wording makes it sound like autism is what defines who he is rather than a condition he is learning to live with.  Thatcher also was beginning to exhibit red flag behaviors that are associated with the creepy "A" word.  24 hours after his 18 month immunization Thatcher stopped talking.  He started flapping his hands, walking on tippy toes and banging his head on the walls and floors.  He would cry for prolonged periods, had chronic diarrhea, stopped eating and was losing weight.  It was at this time that the family moved home to be at Grampa and Gramma's.  Since their arrival in early July, our Thatcher can now call the kitties, mimic Spike the horse and is attempting sounds for words he once had.  We count these as huge successes.
These guys are busy, messy and loud. This afternoon they were hanging with grams while mommy made a quick trip to the store-all by herself.  No biggy, I thought, I could still get a few words together for the blog.  But first I had to sit Crew on the lawn for a quick minute while I untangled a crying Thatcher from the horsey swing that the bull dog was also trying to swing on.  I turned to see Sawyer had stripped naked as a week of successful potty training was taking a turn for the worse.  Crew started to cry as he toppled face first in the dirt, Thatcher's wail was escalating to hysterics and Sawyer was off on a dead run, naked, chasing Pedderkitty, the family cat. I managed to herd Sawyer inside and toward the bathtub while carrying 2 crying babies.  Safely in the house I sat them down. Thatcher tripped, sending a lamp sailing, landing in pieces when... THE PHONE RINGS!!!
 It was mommy,"how are the boys?"
"Fine!" I lied, in my high pitched liars voice.....

 Earlier today Sawyer was heard saying, Speed Racer racing through the ketchup!'  That pretty much sums up the state of this household and also why this day's post didn't happen until 12 ish a.m. I came to the conclusion years ago when I was raising my own kids that there will always be ketchup to be mopped up, laundry to fold and over all clutter to sort through. But the babies grow up quickly.  A year ago Sawyer had only a few words. Today he said "Gramma I'm so happy."   God is so good.  These little boys battle far bigger foes on a daily basis than I.  I can do this.  2 days down, 363 to go.