Towels

Living in the Northwest, I often find that my bathroom towel never completely dries between showers. It may be partially because of our climate: damp, cool, and dreary most of the winter. It may also be partially because my towel hangs on a hook, whereas my husband's towel hangs fully stretched out on a bar of the shower door. (I know. The lack of symmetry in the design of our bathroom is a topic for another day.)

So, not surprisingly, it got me to thinking about things as I looked at the towels in our bathroom. There's something attractive about the idea of being completely stretched out and available to perform at optimum potential. If a towel is not fully dry, how can it do its job? And a towel perpetually folded upon itself doesn't dry properly and it starts to smell after a while. Moldy, moist, and not what you want to wrap around your dripping body after a shower.

I want to be like a towel that's stretched out and ready to perform. One that has the service of other people as a priority. I want to have everything unattractive in me taken out and whisked away into the atmosphere so I can be fresh and available.

A towel on a hook - a life that's imploding in self-absorption - not only has limited usefulness, but after a while, starts to smell. I don't want a life that's only worried about MY boundaries that have been crossed. MY desires met. MY feelings hurt.

If God is like a dry breeze that lifts the mold and mildew of my life so I can selflessly serve others, let the wind blow! Let me have a virtual heated towel rack in my bathroom of life! I catch of whiff of my selfishness from time to time and I want to toss the towel in the laundry basket and start with the fresh scent of Downy again. And I can with Jesus!

That's what redemption is all about.

A fresh start.

A do-over.

No more moldy odors or damp cotton to do a half-assed job. I want to be stretched out and ready to serve. Fresh and clean. Nothing to hide in the mildewy folds of my introspection.

Let the cleansing wind of the Holy Spirit blow into the towel racks of my life, Lord! I want to smell Downy fresh!

Confidence

“‘This is what the great king, the king of Assyria, says: On what are you basing this confidence of yours?'" (2 Kings 18:19)

This is a question I've been pondering a lot over the past year or so. On what am I basing this confidence of mine?

If it was on my looks, then middle-age is taking care of changing that.

If it's on my smarts, well, God Himself took that off the table by endowing me with only slightly above average intellect.

On doing the right thing? Good luck to those around me. I score 0 on the scales of compassion and service.

How about my accomplishments? Again, not much to brag about.

It would be pretty easy to look at me and say, "On what are you basing this confidence of yours?"

But what if, like Hezekiah, I'm basing my confidence on God's promises? What if I believed what God said is true regardless of what anyone else says about me or my chances of success in this world?

Because God says I'm loved.

I'm redeemed and forgiven.

And I was chosen to be adopted into His family.

And that He's got my back and is preparing a place for me to spend eternity with Him.

So in spite of my lack of credentials or achievements, in the face of colossal mistakes and epic fails, I am pretty confident. Not in me, of course, but in the God who chose me, loves me, and calls me to live for Him.

Naaman

"Go wash yourself seven times in the Jordan and your flesh will be restored and you will be cleansed."

But Naaman went away angry and said, "I thought he would surely come out to me and stand and call on the name of the LORD his God, wave his hand over the spot and cure me of my leprosy." (2 Kings 5:10-11)

Am I missing out on something God wants to do in my life because I'm too focused on the expectations I've built up? Is my focus on the wrong thing so I don't see God's activity in my life? Do I want drama more than His Presence? And can I even clearly identify my need?

My expectations?

My hope?

Am I, like Naaman, expecting God to do something big in my life while I wait, idly, and simply complain?

That's not what I want, Lord! I want to respond by doing whatever you require of me; just show me what it is! Oh, that it would be as clear as it was for Naaman. But then, would I balk like he did? Probably.

As is true so often in Scripture - and in life - there is a tension that exists between what only God can do and what He asks me to do. How could I possible get those confused?

But I do.

Would you give me eyes to see the difference, Lord. And strength to act or submit, accordingly.

Work and Play

I just got home from Paris.

Don't feel too badly for me. It wasn't as bad as it sounds.

We had good food, walked for miles, ate crêpes in the Tuileries Gardens, and took a fascinating tour of the Veuve Clicquot champagne cellars. All in all, a pretty rocking week.

But have you discovered that no matter how glorious the vacation, how amazing the scenery, and how fascinating the experience, once you know it's time to get home, you just can't wait?

What is that?

I have a theory.

It's time to be productive. It's how we were designed.

Take a look at this verse from the creation account:

"The LORD God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it." (Genesis 2:15)

And this one from a wise, wise king:

"Then I realized that is it good and proper for a man to eat and drink, and to find satisfaction in his toilsome labor under the sun during the few days of life God has given him - for this is his lot." (Ecclesiastes 5:18)

We were meant to live in a balance of work and pleasure. Labor and laughter. Toil and tranquility.

And often we don't realize we lack one because we're so imbalanced in the other.

I've recently taken on some tutoring responsibilities, getting my feet back into the world of education, and it wasn't until my days were filled with meaningful activities that I realized how much time I had been wasting! There is great satisfaction in doing a job and doing it well.

We were created with a rhythm and a tension. It's the concept behind God's emphasis over and over again on the Sabbath. Work your tails off for 6 days, then take a break, for crying out loud! A real break that changes pace, focus and priority. Then go back to what you were doing with God at the center of it.

Recalibration is good because it realigns our purposes and priorities. And in my opinion, there are fewer places better to do that than in Paris with a few girlfriends.

But now it's time to be productive again. Bring it on, Lord!

Scavenger Hunt

My son's youth group did a scavenger hunt yesterday at church.

I didn't ask him the kinds of things they were supposed to look for but I have been thinking about my own hunt, as I scavenge (is that even a word?) through life looking for purpose. Looking for God's glory. For comfort. Love. Beauty.

Is there holiness in raising my face to the sun and letting it dry the tears that stream down my face, escaping my tightly squeezed eyelids?

Is there holiness in sitting at my desk, reaching for the words to describe God's truth, and being distracted by a huge spider that meanders, uninvited, along the baseboard, among electrical cords?

Is God's glory in snoring spouses?

Is there something divine in stitches from surgery and post-op meds that are instantly bitter on the tongue but stave off infection in the body?

My theology is challenged in the dichotomy of the divine and the mundane.

Yes, God is present in all of it. He made the sun's warmth. The unwelcome arachnid is His creation, too. (Ew!) He's in the nearness of noisy breathing. In the healing process. In my triumphs and in my epic fails.

He is everywhere and in everything.

And He wants to be found. To be seen. To be embraced and sought after.

This is my scavenger hunt list:

One thing I ask of the LORD,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple. (Psalm 27:4)

Reveal yourself to me, Lord. Show me your beauty and your glory in everything today. Amen.

Morning Stillness

I sit and listen to the rhythmic whoosh of a sprinkler,

To the now-audible hmmmm of the refrigerator.

I gaze at still branches awaiting a scrambling critter or gentle breeze to stir,

And sip warm coffee, the color of summer skin.

I inhale deeply, peacefully, slowly.

Sigh.

Loved ones still sleep, unseen, unheard.

But I am fully, blissfully awake, embracing the potential of a new day.

Anticipation. Longing. Contentment.

All intermingled as I pause before the light is so bright.

And the noise is so loud.

While God is still near and I am fully present.

Poised, with open arms and heart.

Whoosh.

Sigh.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Sun in the trees

"From where I lay I can see the sun,

rising through the trees.

Before I face this morning rush,

I get down on my knees.

I lift my eyes and I thank you

for this life you've granted me.

I pray that every day I live, your heart will be pleased."

(from All I Ever Wanted, by Margaret Becker)

I was thinking of this old favorite song of mine this morning, as I sat watching the sun peek through the trees on its way to light the sky for the day. I was reading about the land allotments in the book of Joshua and paused to stretch my problematic neck. (See previous post for details.)

I caught a momentary glimpse of bright orange as the rising sun peeked through the cedars in the back yard. In that split second, I sensed God saying to me, as He had to Paul centuries ago,

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

(2 Corinthians 12:9)

Recently, I've been struggling with an ongoing personal issue and, even though I was stretching for physical comfort in that moment, God met me with a much deeper comfort. A reminder that although it only seems we see the sun for a second, it's always there. Even though there may only be a spot - a single ray - of sunlight shining into our darkness, it's never blotted out completely.

God's light - His comfort, His truth, His love - is always rising to fill our lives.

Whether we see the effects dimly - diffused through leaves or morning fog - or if it's brilliantly spectacular in its hues and intensity, the sun - like God - is constant and unchanging. We'll catch glimpses; then it will seem to disappear because we've lost sight of it. But God will use His Word, His Spirit, and other people in our lives to remind us that He is there.

As I still sit and see the shadows and lighting shift among the trees, I'm reassured. I sense God's peace in my present situation as well as for life in general, as He reminds me that His grace IS sufficient for me. Whether I need to pull up my big girl panties and suck it up because life is hard, or I lay out my heart before Him in my need and pain, what He offers is enough.