Archive for the 'Soul Food' Category
February 9, 2008 @ 4:11 am | Filed under: Soul Food
“How did it go?”
A friend of mine called early this morning to tell me about the event she hosted last night for the pre-teen girls in her class. We had been brainstorming over this particular night for a while now and I was excited to hear all the details.
“I don’t know.” There was a definitely hesitancy in her voice, but also a little tremor of excitement. “Good, I think. But it went nothing like I expected. My plan? Straight out the window. It seemed like God kept moving me in a different direction.”
On my end, I was smiling as she talked. I could so relate. I thought back to the past several days, when I had journaled on more than one occasion almost the exact same thing. As I settled in to listen to her account of last night, I couldn’t help but wonder:
Just how many people are experiencing this same thing right now?
A few days ago I was skimming quickly through a news magazine, trying to catch up on any major headlines and current events. On one of the last pages, tucked between an article about the current reigning Miss America and details about the upcoming Grammy Awards, was a single-page article that still has me thinking about it today – almost a week later.
It detailed the story of how one forty-year-old man left a high-paying position in a prestigious field over a decade ago in order to fulfill what he felt like was the “next step” in his life, forming a nonprofit organization that repairs and then donates used cars for low-income individuals. During the years he worked at establishing this project, he took a job at a local bakery to support his wife and three children.
Now the nonprofit organization has multiple locations and has provided reliable transportation for over 3,000 individuals to date, enabling many of them to come off of welfare. When asked how he felt about being considered a visionary, his answer was low-key and matter of fact.
It was this answer that still resounds in my heart.
Stating that he has now been able to turn over most of the duties and responsibilities of this organization to capable people, he has, in turn, moved on to another new project—a life-mentoring program for the poor. “I always feel the answers are right in front of me.”
I’m thinking that God is doing an amazing global thing. Think of what could happen if we all tossed our ‘plans’ out the window and truly let Him lead us from one step to the next.
What mighty things would be accomplished if we stepped out into those waters over our head knowing nothing more than He will put any answers we may need right in front of us…WHEN it’s time for them?
December 17, 2007 @ 6:10 am | Filed under: Soul Food
The minutes and hours of today have tripped all over one another, intermingling and tangling in such a way until now the day almost behind me is nothing more than a blur of frantic activity.
As I worked through the day, tackling each item on my to-do list, my heart grew tighter and heavier. Emotion that I thought I had carefully stuffed away kept creeping up. I stayed at my desk and worked on, but I knew I couldn’t ignore this for much longer. I ran the errands, did the chores, attempted the work, and made a valiant effort at holiday preparations.
A couple of hours ago I gave it all up and closed myself in here in my office.
I needed what I call some P-U-S-H time.
Pray Until Something Happens.
I learned a long time ago that one of the secrets to answered prayer is persistent, prevailing, and persevering prayer. Not that God needs the time, or the repetition, or the reminder of anything on my heart.
But I need it.
On days like today I need nothing more than quiet time with Him. Time to bare my heart, time to cry, time to listen. Time to go to that inner sanctuary where I am safe and whole and cared for.
Today I needed to pray until something happened.
I have great kids, a great family, and a great future ahead of me. Yet my heart was not at rest today. And – probably because I can be stubborn – it took me a good part of the day to realize the reason why.
I was trying to handle everything on my own. Trying to chart courses to destinations I’m not even sure of yet. Trying to tie up so many loose ends that aren’t mine to manage. Trying to answer questions instead of ask them.
So now, hours later, I’m still sitting here in the semi-darkness of my office, still unsure of many things, but more certain than ever that I’m a child of the King.
When I’m sitting at His feet, where reassurance and confidence are in abundance, I’m renewed as a woman. All the things and issues and people that I carry in my heart are finally safe when I release them into His caring, capable hands.
My heart is full right now.
Full of love and of joy and of thankfulness that I have such a refuge for my soul.
August 4, 2007 @ 2:26 pm | Filed under: Soul Food,The Solid Rock,Uniquely Me
Dear Me in 1983,
I’m sure that receiving a letter from me is the last thing you expected, huh? I can practically read your mind. Though I must seem impossibly old and out-of-date, considering that you are fifteen and a freshman in high school, here’s the deal. I see you struggling with so many things right now – things like love, friendships, and your purpose in life. If I had it my way I’d fix it all and pave the way smooth and straight for you. Unfortunately, life doesn’t work like that and, in the long run, you’ll be happy that it doesn’t. You’ll find your own way in time, though you’ll grow mighty impatient in the process.
You’ve only been out of the back brace for a few months now, but you still haven’t become accustomed to the fact that it’s not tightly fastened around your torso, holding your spine securely in place. The many months spent wearing it and feeling curious eyes upon you as you walked the school halls in dresses two sizes larger (to accommodate the brace) still plague you. I know it seems as though you’re the square peg trying desperately to fit into a round hole, but the reality is that all of your friends are also square pegs in disguise and – if the truth be known – there are no round holes.
Life is the great equalizer. But that’s another truth that you won’t learn for some years. In the meantime, treasure your friends, even when it feels like they are loving you one day and whispering behind your back the next. Girls are funny like that, but they truly mean no harm. These same girls will one day grow up with very real needs and you will be one of the ones they turn to to help them pray. How’re you going to pray for them if you allow bitterness and fear to creep in now?
You are a true romantic at heart, with a vivid imagination and a passion for something deep from life. Right now you think that finding love will be much like your daydreams and that this passion is meant to be spent on this elusive special person. I wish I had the words to gently tell you that real life love and passion are quite different than what you are finding on the pages of the novels we both love so much. They are no less real, or exciting, or breath-takingly terrifying – just…different.
Right now you feel like the traditional ugly duckling and you are sure that no boy, let alone any man, will ever want you for his own. But baby, this is just not true. I want to tell you to be patient, but I know you will not be. You’ll make decisions because you feel like there just aren’t enough choices. You’ll feel like Life is going to just zoom right on by you and you’ll be left behind and alone, so you will leap before looking a few times. It will hurt, I hate to say it, but you will survive and you will learn that Life is much bigger than you give it credit for. You will be a grown woman with babies of your own when you finally realize this, but that’s okay. It is during these years that God becomes vibrantly real to you and you will be a woman forever changed.
You WILL find great love and great passion, but it will come in a way you never expected. This love will fulfill you and grow you, both, as a woman and as a human being. Your life will be better for having been touched by this love and, in turn, the love you give in response will be a blessing as well. You will learn that love is a multi-dimensional thing and that, when left in God’s hands, it will continue to grow and thrive and excite and endure. Nothing can stop it, nothing can alter it. It just is. You already know that you have a heart that is meant to care and to shelter and to give. Protect that heart and just rest in the knowledge that – in good time, GOD’s time – your heart will find it’s permanent home. Again, it won’t necessarily be like you are expecting. It’ll be much better. I promise.
I know you envision yourself one day cuddling a daughter, but – guess what? You’ll become a mother to two little boys. Even though you’ll have to forego the hair bows, the Martha Miniatures, and the baby dolls, you will find endless delight and joy in these two blond-headed wonders. They will try you to no end at times, that much is for sure, but being their mom will be the best thing you will ever do. They will grow up SO fast. Do your best to treasure each moment, each milestone. Before you know it, they will be leaving home for college and you will have to release them, praying and trusting that they’ll always remember some basic truths you’ve endeavored to instill in them. Truths that you, yourself, have yet to discover.
You know how you write in your diary each night? How many diaries have you filled up in your fifteen years, anyway? A lot, I know that! There will be a good many years when you give up writing down your thoughts, your hopes, and your dreams. Life will become tough and complicated and keeping a daily or weekly record of it all will be the last thing on your agenda. But then one day you’ll begin to write again. And this time you won’t stop. Journal entries will turn into essays and essays will turn into articles that you’ll eventually – hesitantly – submit for publication. After a few of them make it into print, you’ll grow brave enough to tackle the stories that have always lived inside of you. Characters like Grandma Hogan, Grace, Jackson, and Ella and Luke will come to life on the computer screen in front of you. They will bless you as you pour yourself into making their stories into books for others to read and to share. It will be your hope that these stories will encourage and uplift, that they will point others to truths that God shows you while you spend so many solitary hours in writing.
You’ll one day be living your dream. But it will be for real, and it will be yours. Your future is bright and beautiful. The tough times will soften you. The scary times will bolster you. The loving times will deepen you. What you will eventually embrace is that you are "fearfully and wonderfully made." Psalm 139:14 will become YOUR verse. If I could tell you anything right now, it would be to trust God. Laugh, love, and live your life. It’s really that simple. Everything else has a way of working itself out. You are going to be fine. No, wait. You are going to be more than fine.
Love and prayers,
Your 2007 Self
July 9, 2007 @ 4:09 pm | Filed under: Soul Food
"You are not here merely to make a living. You are here in order to
enable the world to live more amply, with greater vision, with a finer spirit of hope and achievement. You are here to enrich the world, and you impoverish yourself if you forget the errand."
Woodrow Wilson
28th President of the United States
______________________________________________
"I’ve got mail. Again."
I held up the oversized envelope bearing the Donaldson logo, addressed to me, and grinned.
Mike shook his head. "They sure know what they’re doing, don’t they?"
I reached inside the envelope and pulled out a beautiful glossy 14 month calendar. Emblazoned across the cover was a breathtaking picture of Cruz Bay in the Virgin Islands. Inside were 13 more photos, along with island recipes, trivia, and information.
In January of this year we began to receive a package in the mail every month or so from Mike’s company. Labeled "Incentive Package," these oversized envelopes contained all kinds of good things and it became rather exciting to spot yet another one in the mailbox and then rip excitedly into it as soon as we were inside the house.
Inside the packages were numberous momentos – calendars, paper weights, postcards, and letters – all bearing images of the Virgin Islands, along with the constant reminder: "Meet me in reef!"
The reminder was of Donaldson’s sales contest. For each territory manager that met a certain sales goal PLUS for the 2007 fiscal year would receive an all-expense, six-day five-night paid trip for TWO to the beautiful island of St. Thomas. These photos and island recipes that kept finding their way to our mailbox were certainly appealing. It was rather easy to see why the packages were clearly labeled "incentive."
But the amazing thing is that each of these packages is addressed to me, Mike’s spouse, and all the goodies inside? Yep, that’s right. They’re meant for me. Marketed to appeal to a woman’s love of all things island-like, I – along with the other wives – continued to receive incentives in the mail.
Incentives that would, no doubt, help us to spark a fire beneath our spouses in an effort to make this year wildly successful and profitable. Certainly profitable enough to earn us a trip to St. Thomas.
That is – if incentives worked like that in our home. I’ve thought a lot about this these past few months and I’m just not sure that they do.
The boys have received an allowance since they were preteens and began to need money in order to have the occasional hang-out time with their friends. It was generally a set amount and fairly regular, but not really associated with chores or responsibilities.
That’s because, around here, chores and responsibilities are expected and required simply because, hey, you’re a member of this household and we all pitch in to help get things done. Cleaning your room and swabbing out your toilet every once in a while do not a big fat wallet guarantee.
Some weeks the chore load may seem mighty light and, yet others, it may seem downright unfair. But the payoff is that things keep humming around here as they should, not that the end result is more green in the hands of our kids. So if money is not the incentive to do what is expected around here, then what IS?
The wrath of Mom? The possibility of having your week’s worth of dirty laundry tossed out? The fear of having your weekend plans put on permanent pause if the yard is not tended by the time you’re set to go out?
I’d like to say that the incentive is that it just feels good to do a good job at something that has been assigned to you. You remember, don’t you, nothing feels better than a job well done. But more than likely it’s one of the above, and I’ll take that. Sometimes it takes a while to layer in all the ingredients necessary to create an awesome character. As a mom, I’m acting on faith that all of the chores performed in the past ten years will someday, somehow, play a role in molding responsible, conscientious men out of my boys.
What Donaldson may or may not know yet about Mike is that they didn’t have to hang a nice, attractive carrot in front of him to get him to perform. He – truly – IS the same yesterday, today, and forever. Not quite like Jesus, but you get what I mean…He is going to put in just as much time, sweat, and energy with the client who will spend a hundred bucks as he will with the company likely to place a triple digit order. He’s just that way. Born and bred to work hard, work diligently, and work faithfully. He’ll be happy to win the trip, I’m sure, but he’ll be just fine if he doesn’t.
And me? Well, I’m sticking to my belief that the best possible reward for a job well done is the good ‘ol feeling you get down deep inside, knowing that you’ve given a job your all. But I think I will finish this post and log a few miles on the treadmill. You know, just in case I find myself vacationing someplace exotic like – I don’t know, the VIRGIN ISLANDS – come this November.
Hmm…maybe those Donaldson folks DO know what they’re doing, after all! What about you? What – or WHO – motivates YOU?
May 31, 2007 @ 4:16 pm | Filed under: Friends,Soul Food,The Solid Rock
Forty-eight hours ago, I sat in a doctor’s waiting room, nervously and mindlessly flipping through the worn and smudged pages of one magazine after another. For two solid hours I sat in that black vinyl chair, all the while my heart was somewhere in the depths of that doctor’s office, in whatever room Nate was in.
As a half-hour turned to one, then an hour and a half came and went, I gave up all pretenses of reading or people-gazing or anything else that one tends to do in those type of settings. I gathered my purse and moved to the edge of my seat, and was truly only a nano-second away from barging behind The Door and finding my son all on my own.
And then these words begin to spill through my mind in the sweetest possible way:
"Peace, peace. Wonderful peace."
"Coming down, from the Father above."
Just like that my twirling thoughts stilled and my pulse returned to normal. Even though I sat here, in the one place, facing the one thing that I feared most during my kids’ growing up years, I felt the peace of God. I wish that I could control heredity, that I could somehow shelter both boys from the pains and trials of life, whether it be physical, mental, spiritual, or emotional. And yet – just as I could only sit with them held firmly in my lap during those awful visits for shots, for ear infections, for chicken pox – now I could only sit in a lonely chair in the waiting room, knowing that my firstborn was on his own this time. Besides my presence and my prayers, I was helpless.
"Peace, peace. Wonderful peace."
"Coming down, from the Father above."
Again, that peace moved through me, smooth and undeniable. See, those words had recently been sung in my living room, around my own piano, just the day before. Some of our best friends had gathered in our home for a Memorial Day lunch. After eating, chatting, celebrating a birthday, and laughing the afternoon away, we became serious. One of our own was going in for a medical procedure, a grave one, and though little was said about it, it was on all of our minds. His wife had received her miracle just months before and now we, as a solid group of friends, were standing on the promise of one for him. As we prepared to gather in a circle around him and pray before everyone left, Rochelle sat down at the piano and the girls and I stood around, harmonizing as she began to play the first, soft strains of this very song.
Little did I know that the words would minister to me in such a mighty way just hours later.
By the time Nate emerged from The Door, my mother’s heart was warm with the knowledge that – though I have very little control these days – my God has all control. He is my peace. Even later, as we pulled into the driveway and I grabbed the mail from the mailbox, I felt that rich flood of "it’s going to be all right." Even after I slid open the envelope from my publisher and learned the news that the editorial board had decided to not publish Finding Faith this fall, after all – still I felt that peace.
I stood in the living room, clutching the single crisp sheet of paper, feeling my husband’s eyes on me, and knowing he was waiting for the waterworks to begin. I, too, waited for the barage of disappointment to come, for the feeling of rejection that even the most politely worded letter of its kind tends to produce in a writer’s gut.
Nothing. Except this,
"Sweep over my spirit, forever I pray,
in fathomless billows of love."
Whether it was the nights lately spent at the Rock, or merely the recognition of priorities after my day in the waiting room, I felt nothing except peace.
I don’t understand a lot of things. I don’t understand how a mother’s heart can possibly bear some of the things it must endure. I don’t understand why heredity can be, both, so glorious and yet at times, so mean. I don’t understand why contracts are broken, why publishers make the decisions they do, or even why I continue to write and worry and mother and care about each and every single little detail in this life of mine.
I don’t understand.
But I have the peace that passes all understanding. And, really, that’s everything.
Far away in the depths of my spirit tonight
Rolls a melody sweeter than psalm;
In celestial-like strains it unceasingly falls
O’er my soul like an infinite calm.
Peace, peace, wonderful peace,
Coming down from the Father above!
Sweep over my spirit forever, I pray
In fathomless billows of love!
What a treasure I have in this wonderful peace,
Buried deep in the heart of my soul,
So secure that no power can mine it away,
While the years of eternity roll!
Peace, peace, wonderful peace,
Coming down from the Father above!
Sweep over my spirit forever, I pray
In fathomless billows of love!
I am resting tonight in this wonderful peace,
Resting sweetly in Jesus’ control;
For I’m kept from all danger by night and by day,
And His glory is flooding my soul!
Peace, peace, wonderful peace,
Coming down from the Father above!
Sweep over my spirit forever, I pray
In fathomless billows of love!
And methinks when I rise to that City of peace,
Where the Author of peace I shall see,
That one strain of the song which the ransomed will sing
In that heavenly kingdom shall be:
Peace, peace, wonderful peace,
Coming down from the Father above!
Sweep over my spirit forever, I pray
In fathomless billows of love!
Ah! soul, are you here without comfort and rest,
Marching down the rough pathway of time?
Make Jesus your Friend ere the shadows grow dark;
O accept this sweet peace so sublime!
Peace, peace, wonderful peace,
Coming down from the Father above!
Sweep over my spirit forever, I pray
In fathomless billows of love!
May 30, 2007 @ 10:06 am | Filed under: Soul Food
| Today | Tomorrow | Fri | Sat | Sun | 6-10 Day |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Extended Forecast | |||||
| T-showers | Isolated T-storms | Partly Cloudy | Scattered T-storms | Scattered T-storms | |
| High: 80°Low: 70° | High: 85°Low: 69° | High: 85°Low: 71° | High: 84°Low: 70° | High: 85°Low: 70° |
April 16, 2007 @ 10:08 am | Filed under: Soul Food,Uniquely Me
Oprah recently asked a studio audience to take a "happiness quiz" to see just how satisfied most folks are with their life. A handful of people took the test on stage and then their stories were used on the show.
April 4, 2007 @ 12:52 pm | Filed under: Soul Food
My agent tells me this whenever we receive another bunch of rejection slips. "It just takes one."
One call. One person. One event.
And the whole course of – virtually anything - can be changed.
I was sitting in my office (in my "work" clothes and a pony tail) a week ago Friday, working on my manuscript, when my phone rang.
Not recognizing the number on caller ID, I considered not answering it. Either it was a wrong number or someone inquiring about the house. I had been fielding the calls on the house, taking down the info folks wanted, and then returning their calls later. Since we’d not yet placed a single ad in a paper or subscribed to any MLS listings, the calls were few and far between. But that morning something urged me to answer. I reached for the phone.
"Hello? Yeah. I was just looking at the house down the street and noticed your sign in the yard. I’m standing outside of your house. Can I see it now?"
My mind went into a stall, torn between knowing I would have to perform a mad dash throughout the house – picking up, straightening, finding time to dress in something other than work pj’s – and not wanting to pass up the opportunity to show the house. The sign had been in the yard just six days, but this was the first person to ask to see it.
"Sure." I answered. "Just give me a few minutes."
I took one arm and swept my manuscript notes and folders into one tall and only semi-neat pile and then flew through the house, quickly inspecting each and every room. Five minutes later – appropriately dressed, hair tidied, and rooms approved – I opened the door and met the gentleman.
He looked at the house, walking into each and every room while I waited with bated breath and a bit of nervousness (showing the house by myself is not my idea of a great time) just inside the opened front door. Coming back into the living room he inquired about the asking price.
"Is that your final price?"
I mumbled something intelligent about how he’d need to speak with my husband about the details and would he like to leave his name and number? He did, indeed, pausing to add as he walked out the door, "Have him call me soon. I may make an offer."
He didn’t have to tell ME twice. I called Mike, who just happened to be in town and working at the office that day (miracle of miracles!), and promptly filled him in on the morning activity. Mike called him back, and they set up a time for him to see the house again that night.
But …!
Pat (that’s the man) called back not even two hours later. My friend, Denise, was sitting in my living room at that time so she is my witness to this incredible part of the story.
"Hello?" I had recognized his number this time, and was mentally praying he wasn’t calling to cancel the appointment for that night.
"Yeah, this is Pat again. Listen, I’m going to buy your house."
"Okay." For the second time that day my brain stalled. "I’m sorry. Can you repeat what you just said?"
By bedtime that night we had inked a contract. Still finding it difficult to believe, we waited a suspenseful two days until Pat called after a meeting with his bank and mortgage company with a green light and a closing date of April 27th.
This is our God-story. One that makes me smile every time I think about it. After showing our home just five times during a seven month period last year, selling it after only six days with a mere sign in the yard and no ads was…well, staggering.
Just the week before I’d been praying for the future owners of our home as I planted red and pink geraniums in the front flower beds. I prayed that they would find joy and peace within these walls and that the hallway and rooms would be full of love, laughter, and good friends. In my mind, I suppose I envisioned a young family, maybe with one or two small children.
I certainly didn’t imagine Pat.
And yet I have no doubt that Pat is exactly right for our house. That’s just like my God to orchestrate in ways that are so far beyond my simple comprehension. He works outside of the box, with timing that is both impeccable and unquestionable. While I may never have envisioned a "Pat," God knew all along where those prayers were directed.
All it took was one.
One sign. One call. One buyer.
April 1, 2007 @ 10:19 pm | Filed under: It's a Girl Thing,Soul Food
Texas UPC Women’s Conference 2007
March 20, 2007 @ 9:56 pm | Filed under: Soul Food
Isn’t it amazing how intricately – and delicately – our bodies and minds are created?
In particular, I’m blown away at how the mind, body, and soul all seem to work in such harmony. At how each of our senses serve such a greater purpose even than what we give them credit for. They overlap, scoot through our memory banks, and produce in us emotions that our minds then work to place in proper perspective.
Have you ever stepped outside of a store on a hot summer’s day, caught a whiff of tar in the air, and be instantly reminded of long lazy days spent at Six Flags as a kid?
Or maybe you’re at the mall and hear the strains of a song that had a special meaning at one point in your life. Even while your mind is on your shopping list, emotions are being stirred and memories – long dormant – are swirling around inside you.
I’m currently enrolled in an Intro to Psychology course so I’m quite sure that I could find out what the technical terminology for all of this is called if I were to actually read the chapters. (KIDDING – I do read the chapters. Um…MOST of them.)
This happened to me yesterday and even now – a day later – I’m still basking in amazement at how my mind, body, and soul are so bound to one another. Blown away that one body is capable of so much intense emotion. Intrigued that one mind is able to channel in mere seconds the flow of that emotion.
I was out running errands and had just pulled into the bank parking lot when my phone rang. I reached for it, flipped it open, and answered as usual. Since I was half-way expecting a call, I think maybe I anticipated a different greeting on the other end.
"What’re you doing?"
Three short words that you hear every single day. A common exchange among me and my friends. Nothing out of the ordinary. Right?
Except this time, it wasn’t ordinary. It was…extradordinary.
I truly wish I had the words to accurately portray what transpired inside of me in that split second of hearing those three. simple. words. But while my mind, body, and soul work really well together, sometimes the English language (writer though I am) still fails me.
In mere nano-seconds I was transported back in time about fifteen or more years. The combination of the words, the timbre of voice, and probably my mood at the time all melded together seamlessly and – though I still sat behind the wheel of my car and did my best to carry on a normal conversation, my thoughts and emotions and memories were on a dizzying, yet exhilarating, carpet ride that took me back, back, back…
Back to a time in my life when – had you told me then would be brought suddenly up on the big screen of my mind over a decade later – I might not have believed you. I was a young mother then with small children and big dreams. While life often seemed overwhelming, I was brimming with optimism and a certainty that God – somehow, someway, someday – had an amazing plan for my life.
I discovered a rock back then and I held tightly to that rock. The years that have passed since then have matured me, but it was during that particular time that I was led by the hand from girlhood to true womanhood. I learned that times can be tough, but I am even stronger. I learned that hurt might last for a season, but love endures forever. I learned that sometimes words are…just not needed.
In fact, to this day, that time in my life defies words. But that’s okay.
Words would only complicate it.
Yet yesterday, at the sound of those words, my mind, body, and soul reacted in one swift movement. My heart flipped, my pulse quickened, my thoughts flew back in time, and then I felt myself relax and smile.
I don’t understand how the human body is so complex that it can take in normal, everyday outside influences – sights, sounds, smells – and then produce in us a phenomenon so luxurious as precious memories and milestones in our lives.
But today – over 24 hours later and still a little dazed – I’m very thankful.
"What’re you doing?"
Well, I’m smiling at the memories of the woman that I was.
And I’m embracing the woman that I’ve become.
