On Unwrapping Gifts

I love this season of giving!  Giving gifts is one of my favorite indulgences and the presentation is often just as important as the gift itself.  

Today, as I photographed our Christmas tree with all the beautifully wrapped presents under it, I began to ponder these gifts.  How, on Christmas morning we will rip all this beautiful paper, crumple it and toss it aside.  We all understand that the real gift is what’s inside the wrapping, right?

As a child I was different – I wanted to gaze upon the presents for as long as possible; speculating about what was inside but afraid to open them because I may be disappointed – and then I wouldn’t even have the beautiful exterior of the gift.  

Recently, I realized there’s a lesson in this; a lesson I’m learning about receiving gifts from my heavenly Father.  It takes courage to truly receive a gift; I must be willing to accept it as the giver intends it; and yes, I can appreciate the initial surface beauty that attracts me to it, but then I need to be willing to release that in order to receive and embrace the deeper, more fulfilling gift. 

And so, I discover, that with each gift I receive from Him, there is sometimes a sense of loss; a loss of what I wanted the gift to be; of what I wanted to make of it.  But in the end, when I let go of the outer wrappings of my expectations, I find within, something so beautiful and so perfect for me – often meeting needs I didn’t know I had, that I wonder why I hesitated at all.  After all, God’s gifts to me have always been perfect; always satisfying.  

Finally, this blog about gifts wouldn’t be complete without acknowledging the perfect gift of love God gave us when He sent His Son, Jesus to us; a gift that once received, fills our most crucial need . . . the need for a Savior.  And then we can spend the rest of our lives unwrapping the beauty of His eternal truths.

Christmas Inside and Out

I’ve been bemoaning my lack of Christmas spirit these past few days.  Normally, I can’t wait to decorate, entertain, watch our Christmas movies and just carry out our normal holiday traditions, but this year, I was alarmed at how “unchristmasy” I was feeling.  How shallow my expectations had become . . . God showed me over this past weekend what Christmas means to Him and in the process gave me a very humbling gift.

First, during a Christmas brunch at my church on Saturday, He touched the heart of a very good friend of mine.  A friend I love dearly and who accepts me so completely.  I invited her because I thought she would enjoy the decorations and of course, because I love visiting with her.  But God brought her there for His own reasons – the reason that He never rests from.  I was so moved to see Him “speak” to her; and through her, to speak to my own heart.  He reassured me of His love for me (why do I need that so much right now?) and complete acceptance of me; my past failures, present struggles, and future (whatever that may bring).

And then today, He spoke to my 11-year old son through the message at church.  He told my son that he had made him clean on the inside (Mark, Chapter 7).  When we took communion, my son wept with the realization of what Jesus had done for Him.  There is nothing on earth more sincere and precious than a child who weeps because the Lord has touched his heart.  Through my own son, God reminded me of the great gift He gave me in his son, Jesus. 

As for my Christmas spirit – well humbly I say, it is complete.  I hope I never again lose sight of what God is doing all around me all the time – and may I live out the gift of Jesus, His sacrifice, and the richness of living life with Him - every minute of this life given me on earth.

I thought this photo of the table I decorated for the Christmas brunch was a good comparison to the internal Christmas feast I'm enjoying via my gracious heavenly Father.

Touch

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about human touch.  That God made us such sensual beings has always amazed me, but sometimes I go through periods in my life when I take for granted some of His most profound yet simple gifts such as touch; maybe because it is such a daily experience for me at this point in my life.  But recently, I was reminded (and very much appreciated) the incredible pleasure derived from a “simple” human touch. And so, I'm dwelling on what is behind that sensation . . . 

My youngest son is 10 and still has the smoothest, silky, baby face.   His plump cheeks are often a beautiful shade of pink and when I run my fingers over them he looks at me with a soft smile that says, “I love you too.”  He can hear in my touch the sentiment, that when expressed with mere words, sometimes sounds trite.   My oldest son has thick, lush hair; occasionally (he is 15, so not often), when I sense he is stressed or tense, I will run my fingers through his hair.  When I do, I can feel him relax; he’ll often close his eyes.  After a few minutes, when he opens them again, there is a calmness in them that wasn’t there before; a smile that isn’t on his lips and often I think I see a new flare of gold in those hazel gems that wasn’t there before.

I find that a touch can communicate feelings I’m not able to put into words; even more, give away feelings I didn’t intend to share.  When I first started dating Don (my husband), I wanted to touch him all the time; hold his hand, stroke his hair, sit close to him.  It overwhelmed him until he came to understand and appreciate that I communicate my feelings through touch. 

For me, life’s fondest memories involve a touch; my Mother’s comforting embrace when I was sick or hurt; the security of holding my sister’s hand as she walked me to school; the bittersweet good-bye kiss on my Grandmother’s worn cheek; the warmth of my husband’s hand the first time he touched me; the divine pleasure of holding my sons for the first time.  When I touch someone I care about, an energy flows out of me; an unspoken communication takes place that occasionally leaves me breathless and always leaves me appreciating the One who created such a pleasure; such a gift as the human touch.

What I Want

When I’m in the midst of a struggle, I find it difficult to trust my motives.  I know I tend to “over think” things most of the time, but I also know myself; I’m very good at convincing myself (and others) that I’m doing things for the “right" reasons only to discover later (often much to my surprise) that I wasn’t doing that at all.  So, when I’ve got something on my mind, something I want; I have to treat myself like another person – sounds a bit schizophrenic, I know, but it works.  So, why did I really do that?  Or why do I really want to go there?  You get the idea.  And it works most of the time – in fact I realize I can be quite clever when I’m being "bad."

Wanting to do the right thing is usually not enough for me.  I need to think about a negative consequence that may result and I need to play it over and over again in my mind.  Lately I’ve been beating myself up about allowing a struggle to linger in my mind; “allow” isn’t the right word really, I more than allow this struggle to invade my thoughts, I invite it in and make it very comfortable.  I play it and rewind it and play it again and again.  But today I’m giving myself a break.  Not because I’ve overcome this struggle – it’s going to take me a long time to remove this wrong idea – this “want” from my life, but I’m giving myself a break because today I’m allowing the grace of God to cover me.  To accept the fact that I’m not perfect but God loves me anyway.  It’s a simple truth that I’ve heard since I first became a Christian, and I even thought I understood the concept – I’ve studied it, dwelt upon it in the Bible, but today I’m able to claim it; to rest upon it.  I also realize (with some sadness) that God won’t allow me to have what I want if it is going to hurt me.  And although I’m disappointed about not getting what I want, I’m relieved that the God who loves me won’t allow me to have it because it would probably ruin me – and the one sure thing I can say I’ve learned at this point in my life is that although I don’t always get what I want, I trust the One who gives me everything I need.

The Spectacle of God

Sometimes I'm lost deep in my own thoughts and I can't hear God's gentle whisper.  Last Saturday evening was such a time.  As we drove home from dinner in Fort Worth, I was thinking about so many things I was far from even a thought toward God.  But He wanted my attention.  Slowly the sky began to darken and the clouds began to burn.  First yellow, then orange and then a fiery red.  The fire in the sky billowed and filled my vision.  As I watched the progression from a few white clouds to a sky filled with thick billows of fire, I had to catch my breath.  "Pull over!"  I yelled.  Don turned to look over where my gaze was fixed.  He gasped.  "The sky looks like it's on fire!"  He said.  "I know!  I need to get a picture.  Pull over!"  As we rolled to a stop just off the Interstate, the boys telling me to be careful, I climbed out of the car window until I was nearly on top of the car.  "I hear you Lord and there is no one like you . . . Your art is alive and I am yours!" was my prayer as I took my photos and climbed back into the car.  As we pulled away and moved further from the sunset, I kept looking back and smiling.  The Lord can be such a spectacle I thought . . . Wow . . . He got my attention, captivated me, and held me there for that moment as if in an embrace.  "Oh How I Love You, Lord . . . Who else could love me with such intensity!"  I smiled the rest of the way home, almost unable to receive all he had given me.  The Lord is alive in His creation and through it He communicates with us . . . if we will only stop to receive it.

Roots

I'm taking a class on the Book of Psalms.  Last week we were asked to right a Psalm about where we are in our walk with God.  I struggled the entire week with this assignment.  It was tempting to write something "lite" that wouldn't reveal too much about myself; nothing too personal.  I chose to be honest and so I wrote about my last two years with the Lord - because I've been stuck in "learn" mode with Him for this long.  But that isn't the amazing thing - the amazing thing is that when I read this out loud to the small group of people in my class, something incredible happened . . . something I had been struggling with these past two years melted away.  I could barely finish reading the Psalm because I thought I might cry at any moment, but I didn't cry.  Through reading out loud what I had written to the Lord, I was delivered from my struggle.  It's one of the most amazing, and immediate answers to prayer that I've ever experienced.  I'm rejoicing.  I want to share the Psalm with you.  I hope you enjoy it . . . 

Lord, you have stirred my soul; my desire is to know you more.

You reach for me and pull me closer; nothing compares to you.

When I struggle, you remind me that I am yours and not my own  – created for your good pleasure. 

You remind me of all the treasures you have given me because you love me.

 I draw nearer with fear and trembling; you wrap your arms around me and comfort me. 

You tell me who I am.

Lord, let all I desire be found in you; may you alone satisfy the longings of my heart. 

In times of testing I will trust you, Lord.  Let me quickly learn what you want to teach me so that I may draw even nearer.

Keep me close to you; jealously protect me; keep me from faltering, Lord.

I will praise you for your faithfulness, Lord.  You are good and everything beautiful and nothing I can desire compares to you.

By Anita Anderson

9/13/2011

On the Path

With the hottest summer in the history of America behind us (at least I hope), and a cool 88 degree temperature outside, I felt the need to get out of the house and move!  I coerced my family to go for a hike in the woods.  The closest wooded area is Lake Ray Roberts, about 35 minutes from our house.  With only a little grumbling, we chose a short two-mile hiking path through a lovely wooded area, packed our water bottles, my camera and some first-aid items and headed out.  When we arrived at the trail, there was a sweet breeze blowing through the trees.  We stepped off the paved parking lot and onto the dirt path which was full of promise and adventure.  It was 3:30p.m. on Labor Day so I had no feelings of guilt from having "left" work early.  Besides, this was a home education opportunity - we would see plant life, hopefully some wild animal and insect life (Biology) and best of all we would get some exercise (so that counts as P.E.).

As you can see from my picture, we did indeed see animal life - and it saw us.  The deer here must be used to hikers, because they didn't run away until we were very close.  This particular deer stopped and posed for me; I was grateful. We spent the next two hours (it turned out our trail map reader, aka Don, my husband had gotten a little turned around and we ended up cross-crossing several trails - not sure how far we actually hiked) walking, laughing, and taking in all the wonders of God's incredible artwork; His trees, His animals, His dappled sunlight as it streamed through the treetops; His plants, even His breeze.  We took in everything and for me, just the act of constantly moving - moving forward - revived me.  Walking on the narrow paths through the woods with my husband and our sons, reminded me of our walk with the Lord.  We're moving; sometimes we stop to rest, but we're always very careful not to leave the path He has set out for us.  We don't always know where it's going, but we're guided by those who have gone before us and have worn it smooth.  I thought about the prophets from the Old testament, King David, the Apostles, and Jesus Himself.  At times, we thought we were lost, but we knew if we stuck to the path, we'd be fine - it would eventually lead us home (at least back to our car) and it did.  It took longer than expected, but we were together - the thing we all love most in this world - and we never worried or fretted because we trusted our Guide (Don claims he knew exactly where we were at all times) and in the same way, as Don and I guide our boys on the path God has placed us on, we too must trust Him and I'm sure He knows exactly where we are.

Long since gone

I took this picture after the last, very brief rain we had here in Texas.  Of course, this bloom has long since died. I'm not even sure the tree will survive this brutal summer.  But . . . just one more day of heat and then the promise of cooler weather.  I don't like being in the mode of waiting for time to pass; but that's just what I've been doing these past weeks.  Usually, time passes much too quickly for my liking; I'm so aware of it at times that it's almost painful.  So, with the hottest summer on record, I've been wishing for each day to pass quickly so I can experience once again the more pleasant temperatures.  Once I experience just one cool day, then another, and another, well . . . the misery of these hot temperatures will just be a memory that I'll talk about from time to time when I want to recall "how bad things were" back in the summer of 2011.  I'm really going to appreciate the fall weather.

This summer's heat reminds me of times of the Lord's testing I've undergone.  I knew that with each day I could bear the situation, temptation or problem, I would be that much closer to being through it.  Sometimes I would be so angry for having to go through His testing that I wouldn't  speak to Him for days.  I couldn't see any sense or any good that could come from my struggle.  But, I knew He wouldn't leave me in this dry place.  I looked forward to the time when the testing would be over; when He would refresh me with a calmer spirit, a mended thought-life and a deeper understanding of who He is and His incredible love for me.  Each time I come through one of these trials, I feel a sense of loss mixed with the joy of having been carried by my Savior through the fire and set down in a cool place.  The loss is what was left behind; what I was clinging to that He had to take from me; no . . . what I had to willingly set down before He and I could move forward.

So, good-bye to extreme heat and of wishing away this season.

Naked Chairwoman

My brother-in-law, Ken Anderson, created this bronze sculpture.  When I saw it in his Peru, NE office this summer, I had to capture it on film.  I love the depiction of this chairwoman and the enormity of the chair she is trying to fill.  It reminded me of my role as the Cub Scout Committee Chairperson and how I often feel overwhelmed by the size of the responsibility involved with planning a program for 63 or so boys under the age of 11.  I also liked the fact that she was naked because to me it symbolized how very little I'm able to bring to this role and so have to rely on God to equip me to serve.  So, while sometimes I grumble about the time required to fill this role in my life, I more than benefit from the education God is giving me through it - and the clothing He has provided.  So, what has He taught me so far through this role?  Well . . .

1.  How to live in the moment.  Kids are great at this; it's never been my strength.  I find my thoughts are often far away either planning ahead, contrasting the present with the past, or contemplating some deep philosophical thought.  But, I can tell you, being in the moment, totally focused on the present is an amazing gift.  To NOT be distracted by any other thought is incredibly freeing.

2.  Patience.  Kids take a long time to tell a story or relate an incident.  But, when I slow down and listen to them - really listen - I find myself smiling broadly, laughing or just feeling joyful.  Talking with children is an incredible privilege.

3.  Patience.  Parents of children can sometimes be trying.  Lack of involvement or willingness to volunteer in a program that so enriches their child's life can be frustrating.  But when I finally turned to the Lord and asked Him to provide me with the help I needed, He provided me with the nicest, most giving people I've met.  And, these friends in service, have become some of my best friends in life.

4.  Gratitude.  Just when I think I can't do another thing, God always sends me someone willing to help.  He gave us an amazing church to meet at (which is now my church home), Godly fathers to lead each of the Dens, Godly mothers to keep the men organized, Godly leaders to influence and direct the program and provide guidance when I get stuck, and 63 amazing little boys.

5.   Humility.  He showed me that I need other people.  I need my husband who makes me laugh when I'm too serious about things.  I need all the parents who volunteer their time to help make this program successful and meaningful for the boys.  I can't do a single thing unless God equips me and it is always Him who provides everything I need (and denies some things I want - which turns out to be best for everyone). 

So, as I begin my last year of service in this role, I'm feeling a little less "small" in the chair, and a little less "naked" having been clothed with strength and patience by my heavenly Father, but I have to admit, it still feels like a huge task - and where children are involved, I guess that's appropriate.

My Father's Daughter

God has always been at work in my life, but recently I’ve been more aware of Him – or maybe His presence – than ever before.  For the past 15 years I’ve been very content with my life; felt I was exactly where God wanted me to be and felt restful in my Spirit.  I have a wonderful husband, two beautiful boys and strong friendships.  I enjoy my work, my home life, everything . . . I really have no complaints.  But, God has taken hold of me and given me an intense desire to know Him more – there is something He wants to show me and as thrilled as I am to discover what it is, I’m a bit terrified.  Not because I think He is going to do something awful, but because I know learning something new will force a change in me.  I may have to give up some long held-on-to habit, thought, or maybe even an idol I didn’t know I had.  However, for me, there’s no alternative but to pursue Him, no rest unless I do; so, at the risk of losing something earthly-dear to me, I’ve been pressing on; closer to Him; and He has both tested me and shown me wondrous things. 

I want to share one thing He has shown me so far . . .

When I was very young I remember watching old Shirley Temple movies where she was a poor orphan and usually mistreated by someone.  Then, at some point in the movie, she would either get adopted by some very rich person; find a long-lost parent or relative (who also was very rich) and then would be taken to some beautiful mansion to live out her days with her new loving parent/s.  I remember the impact those movies had on me; they made me cry; happy tears, but also tears of self-pity because I knew that could never happen to me.  Then I would cry tears of guilt for even thinking of belonging to a different parent/family because I loved my Mom and family so much; I felt bad for wanting more (guilt is very much a part of growing up Italian and Catholic).  I identified with these characters; I too was very poor and though I had a wonderful Mother, grandparents and siblings, my father was not a part of my life and that always made me feel a little like an orphan. 

So, why am I telling you about Shirley Temple movies?  Well . . . because God has recently shown me that not only did I get adopted by a rich parent, I got adopted by the richest, most loving Father there is, God Himself.  It’s not that I didn’t know He was my Father; I commonly pray to Him as Father (especially in times of distress), but what He did was show me the depths of my adoption and the riches of my inheritance.  He brought me to understand that I am adopted now . . . I don’t have to wait for it to happen in the future; I have all the riches He gave Christ right now, in this life, and that He had been preparing for me before the beginning of time.  He instilled in my heart something I had never grasped before . . . that I have not only a Father, but also something I’ve never had on earth, a Daddy. 

Ahhh . . . I needed that

I woke to rain this morning.  I grabbed my camera and ran outside (still in my pajamas).  Only a few sprinkles remained, I had missed most of the heavy rains lying in bed drowsing to the music of it on the roof.  The sky was full of gray and white clouds, but the newly risen sun behind them cast a golden glow on everything.  I walked around the yard looking for something to shoot; pink crepe myrtles dripping large drops of rain from refreshed blooms; green moss against black bark on grateful trees; Yes.  In the driveway, a makeshift pond caught my eye.  The brown, parched, rock-covered earth had been transformed into a golden glistening, smooth-as-glass spectacle.  The rain brought refreshing to a dry wasteland.

I've had a busy week.  Work was fast-paced and held my attention.  We started school this week - I added the role of Biology Assistant to my weekly schedule.  Cub Scouts starts again soon and I'm in full-swing planning and preparing to enrich the lives of 63 boys.  I've been calling out to the Lord for refreshing for some time now; my desire to be closer to Him frustrated me this week - it seemed unobtainable and destined to stagnate.  I often contemplate "rest" but it often eludes me . . . it did again this week as well. 

But today it rained . . . and I rested.  I captured the natural world around me breathing in a deep sigh as it drank in the rain and received refreshing.  As I looked at the pictures I had taken I too was refreshed.  My heavenly Father drew me closer to Him in those moments with my camera to my eye viewing the wonders of His world and reminded me that rest is found when we focus on Him.  Enjoy the photo.

To Tame or Redirect?

I recently read a book called Sex God by Rob Bell.  It was an interesting book and one of the things I most appreciated was his advice to "sensual" or "passionate" women -- (and since I've loaned out the book I'm going to have to paraphrase); he said the struggle isn't to "tone down" your passion or sensuality but rather to redirect it.  This advice resonated with me because I consider myself a passionate woman; passionate about most everything I undertake and that can exhaust those closest to me.  I've worked very hard throughout my life to "tone down" my sensuality/passion and I think I became quite good at it actually; at least for a while.  Until I understood it wasn't at all what God expected from me.

When I was about 15, I was best friends with a girl who owned two horses.  I had never ridden a horse before so she let me ride the horse named Toby, an old trail horse that used to work in the Grand Canyon.  He was a huge horse, but extremely well trained (aka broken).  It was difficult to get him to run, and when he did, he didn't run for very long.  He also would stop instantly if anyone screamed.  I liked Toby; he was well-behaved.  My friend road a horse named Buck; he was a mustang and had earned his name.  He was passionate about being a horse but didn't like being "handled" - he fought the bridle (forget about a saddle) and was always difficult to catch when out in the pasture.  When we rode, my friend would have to let him run until he would agree to walk with my horse; and could he run!  He was thrilling to watch, but I found him a bit terrifying. 

The next summer when I was 16, my friend thought I was a good enough rider that I should try to ride Buck - just once.  I agreed.  I remember shaking as I climbed onto his back.  His ears went back and he turned his head every so slightly trying to "read" this new rider.  I was barely seated (we rode bareback) when he decided it was time to run - bolt is a better description.  I screamed (and of course, Toby with my friend on his back, obediently stopped).  That was it . . . no one was going to help me; I was going to have to hang on and control this beast.  My first instinct was to pull hard on the reigns and yell, "Whoa" which I did . . . a lot . . . and often . . . but he didn't care, he put his head down and ran even faster.  I was sure I was going to fall off and die.  In the next instant I thought I would burst into tears, but something very different happened . . . I began to laugh.  I tightened my grip with my legs and on the handful of mane in my hands and I too leaned forward.  I leaned and laughed and screamed until he finally decided he was ready to slow down to a trot, then a walk and then I was able to get him to stop.  My friend caught up to us.  The wind had whipped tears from my eyes and I was still laughing.  She looked concerned "Are you okay?" she asked (probably because I screamed most of the time).  I sat there breathless and I patted Buck on his neck, "Yes, I'm great!" I said, "And now I've ridden a horse."

So what does this story have to do with the book, Sex God?  I'll explain . . . I can remember every detail of my one ride with Buck.  I remember riding Toby too - it was sort of like riding in a car or on a golf cart; it was nice, but it would be easy to forget he was even a horse at all.  As I grew a little older, I realized I was a lot like Buck.  Full-steam ahead in everything I undertook.  My relationships, school, hobbies, books, movies - everything.  After I became a Christian, I thought being passionate (and sensual) was a bad thing and worked hard to tone it down.  I began to replace "love" with "like" when talking about movies, books and non-people things, I smiled and nodded politely at funny stories people told rather than laughing out loud, I learned all the social graces that are acceptable among the more refined people.  For me, that wasn't living.  And fortunately for me, God was gracious enough to show me it wasn't what he required from me as a believer.  God isn't a passionless God.  He is full of passion and He is responsible for creating me to respond to His world the way I do . . . I just have to remember I'm made to fulfill His purposes and I need to redirect my passions to His work and to the people He has given me to love.  In fact, without my passion, I could never fulfill all the roles He has called me to, nor love all the people He has called me to love.  So, have I tamed my passion?  my sensuality? No way!  But I have (and continually work to) redirect it into the areas God leads me.

What's on a Flower . . .

Camera in hand, I pushed through the thick, shoulder-high brown weeds and grass.  Grasshoppers jumped out of my way while others, crunched beneath my feet.  It's hot here in Texas and has been for some time; it seems everything is in a state of dying or is already dead.  My destination?  A vivid yellow, perfect, very much alive, daisy.  It was a stark contrast to the nearly dead everything else around it and I was drawn to it. I would save it from it's finite existence by preserving it forever on film.  Upon reaching it, I stood and gazed at it for a long time.  I felt grateful to this flower for breaking up all the drab and drear it was surrounded by.  How brave to be so alive.  I brought my camera to my eye and sought out the best angle; the most flattering; the most memorable.  That's when I noticed it . . . a spider's web.  The daisy was moving, more than what would be expected from the slight breeze that blew through the dry creek bed.  I looked behind the flower and sure enough, there was the spider who owned that web.  I thought for a long time about pulling the web off my flower; after all, it would mess up my picture wouldn't it?  No, it made the picture and as I thought about that web and that spider on that beautiful, living flower on the way home . . . I realized it was so much more than a picture on film.

Those who know me best realize I'm about to draw parallels to this incident and read much more into it than any "normal" person would.  But, they usually graciously indulge me; hopefully you will too.  So, here's what I saw in that flower, the spider and his web (sounds like a good title to a children's book) . . .

Sometimes I'll be at an event where there are crowds of people; a museum; a mall  (although I try to avoid those as much as possible); a carnival,  and I'm struck by how everyone blends together into shades of gray.  And then, all of sudden and quite unexpectedly someone catches my eye; someone who seems more alive than everyone else; more colorful.  Often times it's a very young child full of the joy of youth, but other times it's the very old, surrendered to their physical age but still holding the secret of youth; our eyes meet and we share a smile.  A knowing smile that we're somehow "more alive" than the others around us; it's a connectedness that is shared in the instance of that glance.  That sunflower was like that for me, very much alive, living among the mostly dead.  But what about the spider you may ask? (except for my husband who would've by now fallen asleep).

At first, I thought "What a lovely spider that he would choose such a beautiful flower to build his web upon when he could have chosen any of this tall, dead grass.  He must appreciate beauty in his own way."  I know, I know . . . that's a naive thought.  I realize he wasn't drawn to that daisy because he appreciated the vibrant colors or the fact that it was "so alive" . . . he chose it because other life would be drawn there, butterflies perhaps, and he would devour them.  So that little daisy, with all it's beauty and so full of life was unsuspectingly serving the purposes of just another ugly spider full of death.

Life, death, beauty, ugliness . . . all captured in one little photo of a daisy.

Born in a Brothel . . .

No, I wasn't . . . it's the name of a movie I watched this morning and it has stirred me so much that I've wept off and on all day as I've thought about it. This movie was as beautiful as it was disturbing. Maybe I should clarify what I mean by "beautiful" because it means different things to different people. So, let me explain: Beauty, as it has been said, is in the eye of the beholder, right? In this movie, these children in India are born to prostitutes living in brothels. A photographer travels to this area to capture it on film; she actually lives among these women and becomes quite attached to some of the children. She buys them all cameras and teaches them to take photographs. It's a visually stirring film, but what amazed me the most (and there were a lot of things that amazed me) were some of the photos these children took. They expressed hope and dreams, and a way of looking at the world that was still innocent and fresh - amazing considering what they lived with every day. That is a rare aspect of beauty; the ability to see the world as something remarkable or amazing in spite of what we're feeling or lacking in earthly comforts. The photographs were beautiful.

Many years ago when my husband and I were hoping to conceive our first child, we suffered the disappointment of a miscarriage. Fortunately, by this time in my life (I was 32 at that time) I had been a Christian for three years and while I lacked much knowledge, I was full of the zeal and excitement of a new love relationship with my Savior. I was incredibly heartbroken (we both were), and as I lay in the hospital bed waiting for the surgical procedure that would put me back on the road to another chance at pregnancy, I was overcome by a feeling I can only describe as a sense of "life is beautiful" even in the depths of this pain. In fact, it was the pain and deep sorrow of this loss that served as confirmation that I was very much alive. I thought, how beautiful is this life experience that we can feel such depths -- joy previously and now sorrow. I remember looking at my husband as they wheeled me into surgery; my heart broke for him. I thought how beautiful that we are going through this deep experience together. We prayed together and then I was off and awoke to a renewed sense of how great it was to be living this human experience full of it's pain and suffering but littered with deep and abiding love, hope and grace. Beautiful.

I realize now that God's grace sustained me (us both) during that time. That he allowed me to redefine beauty. It's not always pretty, pleasant or pleasing - soaring in the heights of our happiness (although since having children, often now it is) - it can also be found when we're wallowing in the depths; those glimpses of the human experience that are seldom felt when things are well with our soul. I experience beauty when something (or someone) stirs me deeply and causes this God-given human experience of mine to be forever changed.

So, back to the movie - I'm going to be thinking about it for some time to come. I'm going to be thinking about how I came to get hold of it; I'm going to be thinking about (and praying about) what God is teaching me through it and then . . . like yesterday, I'm going to respond.

I'll close today by sharing with you something one of the amazing boys from the brothels said when viewing some "sad" photos with other children from around the world. He said, "Yes, they are sad . . . but we must look at them because they are truth." Isn't that beautiful?

A wife and her song . . .

I figure this is my third post, so I can talk about this, right? Wife is one of my roles, so . . .

In my last post I told you I've been reading (and listening to studies) on the Song of Songs from the Bible. While some teachers try to explain away this book as an anology to the church, I've come to think they're completely wrong - I agree with the teachers (and there arent' many) who think this book literally talks about a physical relationship. Maybe those teachers who don't embrace the physical aspects of the book are embarrassed by how graphic the portrayal of these two lovers (married lovers) describe one another's bodies, and thoroughly enjoy their intimacy together. I find it breath-takingly beautiful. That God would create such an intimacy for us on earch is remarkable. Here's something else to consider . . . in the Old Testatment He compares his relationship with Israel to a marriage; in the New Testament He compares the church (all of us who believe) to his bride that He is returning to earth to marry. Don't get me wrong, I understand that marriage is a lot more than sex, but there is nothing on earth in our human experience that makes us as vulnerable to another person as does sex. For me, it is as "naked" as I can be (literally and figuratively). When I give myself to my husband this way, I'm communicating so many things; love, trust, transparency, and passion. And amazingly, this one act communicates love to my husband far above anything else I can say or do.

So, does all this "understanding" make my drive equal with his? No (not yet anyway). I can't think of any women I know who would say this is true of them either. And, I certainly don't believe in formulas like I've read about in some "marriage" books (every three days or else!) But, I did discover a little trick recently that I thought I would share and you can try it if you'd like . . . I wondered what it would be like to think about sex all day long (like the books say most men do), so I undertook this endeavor. I just thought about the details of the last time we were together - oh, about every 30 minutes to an hour, and I found that by the evening, I was quite interested in doing more than just thinking about being with my husband. It works and I gained a deeper understanding of a man's world (poor things).

I'm grateful for my husband; he actually still thinks I'm the most beautiful woman he has ever met (some 30 years later!) and that is extremely exciting to me. To know that when he looks at me, he desires me . . . well, it's almost intoxicating. Our intimacy is based on a love for God; our life lived together; our children; experiences; struggles; joys; pain and laugther, but all this culminates in a physical expression. That kind of intimacy was created as a gift to us from God; a gift from a God who also desires us . . . and I'm going to respond . . . to God and to my husband.

Mostly Mom today

For whatever reason, today I'm most identified with my "mom-self" and maybe that's because I have a 15-year old son who is asking lots of questions these days. He's got me thinking about womanhood in "new" ways . . . from a man's point of view mostly (well, at least as much as a woman can think about these things from a "man's point of view").

Whenever life sends me baffling questions to answer, I turn to my beloved books; scripture first (you can't imagine how many times I've read the Song of Songs recently) and then other respected "experts." So, I've been reading a lot of books written for men; hoping to find books I could pass along to my son. Of course, my husband gets the privilege of speaking with him about all the details of how things work (thank God!), but my son's questions to me are about how women think and feel about "things." Wow! Do we even know how we think and feel about "things?"

So, I want to share where I am in discovering the answers to give my son (and amazingly, some answers to questions I didn't even know I had - God is funny that way): I've discovered from these "books for men" (such as Every Man's Battle and Every Young Man's Battle) that their world is very different from mine. I wasn't surprised by the statistics regarding how often men's minds take them down roads that are very "physical" in nature and how they struggle with controlling their "eyes;" I'd heard all about that before. My husband told my son that looking at a beautiful woman is a lot like looking into the sun; you can glance at the sun for a moment to appreciate it's beauty, but then you have to quickly look away or it can cause damage. He goes on to explain to my son that you don't want to dishonor a woman by looking at her too long or dwelling on her beauty in a way that makes you think about her "physically" later; it's disrespectful. I like that. So the books were good in giving me a foundation about his world. That's all good; no surprises there for me. I understand these things about men. Maybe being the youngest of six girls gave me a "street education" in these things; I understand men. What I'm discovering, is that I don't know women quite as well. Here's how I know . . .

My son, who is a bit of a deep thinker, asks me; "do girls like to be looked at by boys?" (His question followed an outing at the mall where there were tons of scantily clad girls - and women.) That question is pretty simple, right ladies? It sent me reeling. I had to think hard about the answer to that; after all, I'm a woman and I've got to come up with an honest answer that includes me. What would you tell your son? "No, we just like to look pretty for ourselves? We're not trying to attract that "kind" of attention; that would be unintentional on our part; you men are just all pigs." Would you like to hear my honest opinion on this and know what I finally told my son? I looked him straight in the eye and said, "Yes; yes we do like to be looked at by men. And, for me personally it is always a balancing act. I want my husband to think I'm beautiful . . . and I'd like for him to be proud to be seen with me, but I don't want to attract the "wrong" kind of attention from other men. It's not always easy to strike that balance. Knowing that my husband probably struggles NOT to look at other women, I want to make sure that if he keeps his eyes on me, he won't be disappointed." My son liked my answer. He thought deeply about this for a long while and then said, "That makes sense to me." He paused and then continued, "I think I would want my wife to be attractive, but if that's all she had was good looks; like if she wasn't interesting, that wouldn't be enough. Also, I would NOT want other guys to look at her and think about her "that way."

Hmmm . . . pretty interesting, huh ladies? Life is complex; and to me, relationships are the most complex things we will experience on earth. Our relationships with our children; our spouses; our friends; ourselves and our God. So, today I'm praying that God will help me to remember that my son is looking to me as a role model for his future wife, and asking God to give me the strength not to be crushed under the enormous weight of that responsibility.

Who I am (a.k.a. Who am I?)

Today I'm a businesswoman; a business owner managing the daily details of operating an IT staffing company. Wait . . . my 10-year old just walked into my home office. Today I'm a Mom; a Mom dedicated to the raising and private, home education of two boys - 15 and 11. Can we discuss the age of the earth? Sure, but wait, Dad's saying something from the other room . . . What? Mom's on the phone? Today I'm the daughter of an aging parent - a wonderful, 80-year-old Mom who just called to remind me of another detail she wants taken care of in her funeral arrangements. And, that's just the tip of the iceberg, right? There's wife to my husband of 25 years (30 if you count the five years of pre-marital living arrangements we shared); sister to five wonderful women and one amazing brother; Aunt to almost countless numbers of nieces and nephews (I'm not kidding . . . I think it's nearing 90+ people); friend and cub scout leader. Let's not forget the "me" (when I have time) aspects of my many varied roles . . . there's aspiring amateur photographer; writer; deep thinker; and lover of books.

I'm not alone in my multiple role/personality existence. Most people I know live in a similar world, seamlessly morphing from one role into another. For me, the challenge and question of the day is, "How do I balance all this?" How do I set my priorities so I'm not responding minute by minute to a different task or need. Okay . . . if you've read this far and are expecting the next line to be about how I've got it all worked out, then I'm afraid my first blog is going to disappoint, because I don't have it all figured out. In fact, often my days are lived minute by minute; shifting priorities and roles as the need dictates. What I can offer is this; and it's something that trumps my other roles, I'm a daugther of the Most High, and when I start my day asking Him to lead my activities, well, my days seem to go smoother. Not perfect and not without a lot of juggling, just "smoother," maybe the word is peaceful but that word makes me think of everything being quiet and low-key sort of like a rainy day in a mountain cabin. That's not my life and with my passionate personality, I wouldn't even desire that (okay, maybe once in a while, but only if I really were in a cabin in the mountains on a rainy day).

So with all this going on in my life, why am I sitting here writing this blog? I think it's because I need to be known. This is where the "deep thinker" portion of my personality comes in . . . I need to express my thoughts and feelings; I want to share the profound beauty I see in the world around me and not just in nature but also the people and in the relationships I have or witness in others; I want to share this life experience God has given me. So, today, at this moment, I'm fulfilling my "deep thinker," "writer" roles simultaneously, but my time in this mode has just run out . . . my lovely, happy (for the moment) 11-year old is waiting for me to read with him; ahhh . . . what a welcome interruption.