Irony and Perspective

With my head out of the funk for the most part, yesterday was an "enlarge your heart" day. I reached out to a number of friends with simple, short messages. One such message was to my college buddy Mike Keller. Mike is an awesome person who I had "found" again after 25 years thanks to Facebook. We've chatted online about life and how God is the singular most important force in our lives (not the case in college).

Anyway, I hadn't heard from him since last fall, so I sent a very brief Facebook message:

"Happy New Year...a little late"

Little did I know the irony and truth in those words. Last night, Mike replied. The following are excerpts of his message -- posted with his permission. I can add nothing to the brilliance of this irony and perspective...

Thanks for your message! So, do you have a moment? Well, I can't tell a short story especially comes to a story where God is AWESOME and does incredible things in the midst of less than . . . well, happy circumstances. Mind you, unhappy circumstances don't have to mean that they aren't full of joy because . . . I guess that will be apparent in a bit.

What were you doing December 30? I had the day off. My aunt was coming back from Louisiana, so I got up early to pick her up at the train station. As is my custom, I fixed the fire in our wood-burning furnace and emptied the ashes into an ash bucket which I put on the concrete patio. That was about 6 a.m., and I took off about 7:30.

About 8 a.m., Ruth (wife) woke up because she smelled smoke, but didn't think much of it as it was an extremely windy day and sometimes the smoke backs up through the furnace leaving a whiff. It happened again about 10 minutes later and again she rolled over and went back to sleep. A little while later, she heard a pop and went downstairs to investigate. This time the smoke smelled like there was some plastic like substance burning. She went outside and found the pile where we keep the wood to be burned afire. The fire had gone up the outside wall of the house. She called 911 and drug the BBQ grill with its butane tank out of harm's way. She then grabbed her purse and backed the car out of the garage and far from the house. The firemen responded fairly quickly, but the fire was already engaged on two-thirds of the back of the house and had gotten into the attic. From there it just went crazy, consuming the attic, the roof and started working its way through the rest of the house.

Meanwhile, I am in St. Louis when Ruth calls me. By the time I get home, the roof is down and it is a pretty spectacular site. People are coming from everywhere offering assistance and the firemen are incredible in their sensitivity, their professionalism, and their overall dedication and concern. The fire is considered "out" by early afternoon, but we are warned that there will be hot spots which could flame up again. We stay for a while noticing that some smoke is increasing in intensity. We call the fire chief and he sends out a team who find a live fire amidst the rubble. They put it out and soaked down the area.

In the midst of this, I am amazed again by how many people have come out to support us and just be there. Ruth doesn't have shoes or a coat and the neighbors bring a blanket and slippers. My cousin "couldn't stand being at work knowing what was going on" and spent the entire afternoon with us. She brought a whole bunch of Kleenex. Another cousin brought toilet paper. I found myself joking and laughing with people and despite the circumstances (which also brought more than a tear or two) found that I was actually full of peace and joy. My sister came and as we hugged and shook together I had to ask her if she was laughing or crying cause I was laughing -- joy, joy, joy. She couldn't help but laugh a bit too.

We went to my parents and my nephew, who came down with his wife, brought things like toothbrushes, toothpaste, a razor, shaving cream, and other essentials. Then, they went and got the essentials for Gracie our cat.

Kayla (daughter) was at a friend's sleeping over and Byron (son) was in Champaign. My niece called the Red Cross who came and gave us a credit card to use on food and clothes. It was amazing.

That night before bedtime, we prayed together and commented on how much we were at peace considering the circumstances. Sleep wasn't particularly restful and at 3 a.m. Ruth's sister who happened to be on vacation in Ireland called. It seems it was becoming an international incident. At 3:30 a.m., a neighbor called and said that he had called 911 as the remainder of the house (the garage and a good portion of the kitchen had remained) was now engaged. By the time I got there, it was all gone. Oddly, the room that was least affected was our bedroom. Incredible.

So, let me give you some numbers. I have written 70 thank you notes, in addition to the ones that Ruth and Kayla wrote -- and not counting the e-mail I sent thanking the almost 30 people at work for their support. My boss drove 40 miles to be there when he heard. We have received more gift cards than there are stores and restaurants and enough contributions to pay off the debt of several Pacific nations. No one got hurt. And in the end, nothing significant was lost. How's that? Kayla and I have agreed, that we can't think of much of anything in that house that meant even a tenth of what all of those well wishers and supporters mean to us.

Memories? Yes we lost some photos and other things; but the crazy thing is we haven't looked at them in years and there is a good chance we never would have. It's all stuff -- and if you don't mind me saying -- nonsense. There are things we need, but nothing NOTHING is more important than relationships: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength and, mind you, love your neighbor as yourself for when the end comes and all burns as it surely will, those are the only things we have!

Funny stuff:
- On the morning of the 31st we didn't ask "What should I wear today?"

- We went to Panda Express and the fortune cookie said, "Health and prosperity will come to your door". We don't have a door.

- My sister was tempted to bring marshmallows. Her husband stopped her.

- We all had thoughts prior to the fire (Ruth, Kayla and I) that we never discussed amongst ourselves that basically went like this: What are we ever going to do with the extra junk we have in our house? God has a great sense of humor.


Right now we are living in a two bedroom house. It's furnished down to the dishes and the bed linens. The insurance company has been amazing and today we received checks for more money than I have ever had in my possession at one time. And in a couple of months, when our prayers are answered, we are going to have a new house (almost in time for our 25th wedding anniversary) that we can use to bring glory to God's name for the things He has done for us.

I have to tell you that the casual way we say "God is Good" doesn't come anywhere near what God truly is!!!

So that's about all for now. Hope your year is going half as well as ours, because we have been blessed beyond measure and we have been used to allow others to follow where God leads in order to do what He says: love. And the crazy thing is, He even tells them the correct method to do that in accordance with His formula, plan, and gifting.

God bless you my friend!!!! It's chow time . . .

God is bigger than our intentions

I've been neglecting this blog -- on purpose. I haven't felt as though I've had anything inspiring, profound, or edifying to say. It's been a month or two of hectic, even stressful "stuff."

Through this blog I wish more than anything to encourage others to see and seek the beauty, wisdom and truth of God -- his grace. So while I'm feeling less than encouraged myself, I haven't wanted to say anything (If you can't say anything nice...)

Then, God showed up big time to straighten me out on Sunday.

A little bit of back story...
It's been a challenging time in ministry for me. I'm struggling to figure out my "fit" and all the when, where, how questions. So to simply clear my head, I intended on attending my church Saturday night and going to hear a friend preach at a different church on Sunday. But, I was sick Saturday night and stayed in. Sunday was still rough physically, and I faced a dilemma. Should I go to "my" church Sunday (where my "sister" Sue was being interviewed during the service -- and where I wanted to see all the people), or should I still go hear my friend preach?

Despite a wave of guilt, I made the choice out of an overriding need to be encouraged. I really wanted to hear my friend preach because at his church I'd be a guest -- an observer -- able to just "veg" and maybe walk away more filled. So the family headed to his church -- to meet my need.

About half-way through the sermon he spoke his heart about a season of discouragement in ministry he is struggling through. He spoke of a powerful love for God and the church, but of discouragements as well. He spoke my heart. As I do, I cried.

I left broken, but also strangely encouraged knowing I was not alone in this place of struggle.

Then...that afternoon, my friend sent me this message:
Ann, It was a very pleasant surprise to have you and your family at (church) today. Your life, witness, prayers and interest gave me a needed boost today. Thank you for following your inclination to come. I'd love to have you preach to our group again sometime soon.

I had gone there TO BE encouraged -- feeling like I had nothing to give and with no intention to give of myself. But my friend HAD BEEN encouraged by me just being there.

Wow.

It is in these moments of surprising and sustaining grace that I know more clearly than in any other that there is in fact a God -- a great God -- who IS in control -- who does have a plan -- who does meet our needs -- who uses us to meet others' needs...even when we aren't trying to.

That is the best encouragement of all.

Lesson learned: I don't need to have the right plan or even the right intentions to show and share God's love. I just have to show up. So, friends, I'll be showing up here a lot more often.

Alligators everywhere!

I've had "one of those" weeks.

You know what I'm talking about -- the kind of week where your good intentions are taken wrong, your good efforts are criticized, your attempts to be proactive leave you no where. It was one of those weeks where even my Beagle was giving me "dirty looks." That's bad!

I don't count myself as an overly sensitive person, but enough is enough!

As I struggled through a land-mine-ridden day, something happened this afternoon that improved my mood.

A letter from a recent participant on a sales incentive trip that I helped host appeared in my in-box. It was a thank you note for the sincere hugs I gave him and his wife as they left to return home. If you know me well, you know I'm not a natural "hugger." I like hugs and to hug, but I'm very selective in that show of affection. In this case, Larry is preparing to retire from a long, successful career. He was recognized in front of the group on the trip (to Mexico), and that meant a lot to him. But his kind note not only indicated his gratitude for the recognition, but a special thanks for a presentation I gave to the group about "keeping your load and your limits in balance." It was a God-powered message to a business audience. Larry got the message. Larry appreciated the message; as did his wife. His bear hug was acknowledgement of a shared commitment to excellence in life -- not just business. Too cool!

His letter adjusted my attitude. I realized that no matter how many alligators are swimming around me, they can't stop me from being a voice like Larry's in someone else's life.

I'm off to do that now. I feel much better!

Confronting with Grace

Do you ever feel like every time you confront something that needs to be addressed you are simply raising your head to be shot at?

Lately, I've had many opportunities to enter into discussions where a behavior or a comment or an approach to a situation needs corrected/addressed. I really try to not get involved where I shouldn't. But this appears to be a season of "need to confront." The challenge, of course, is that in confronting "issues" we are always confronting people.

I've learned some vital lessons about confrontation:
1. It's necessary for growth/health of relationships (ergo, it's a "good thing")
2. It's hard. You don't wake up wanting to do it, because to do it well means taking "you" out of it -- and any desire for punishment/revenge.
3. You have to just as open to receiving as you are to giving.


Today, I confronted school officials for an extremely condesending and pompus e-mail received by all parents with students in a particular school activity. I was professional, polite, and measured in my response. It was absent any "in kind" tone and minus any personal defense of myself, my husband or my step son.

My desire was that my response would "fix" the situation.

It won't.

Confrontation that works is more than a response. All I've done to-date is make them aware of my discontent. What I realized (after sending it) is that I have opened the door to what can be growth if I'm willing to invest in the relationships. I need to understand their point of view, offer assistance where I can, and establish boundaries in the process that are consistent with me as parent -- them as school officials. That's what confronting in grace for the purpose of growth means.

I'd rather return a polite and well-written (if I do say so myself) piece of prose that "makes them" stop...change... whatever. It's not that easy.

Help me with your wisdom by weighing in on how to confront well and achieve more than "getting it off your chest."

Thanks!

Obedience in the trenches

If you ask me if I desire to be obedient to God, I will joyfully exclaim, "Yes, Lord, I will follow you! Just show me what you want me to do."

But when I considered that being obedient meant helping my Dad move into a new home this past weekend, I admit I didn't jump for joy.

Moving is never a fun process. The inevitable back ache, scraped knuckles, and stubbed toe were part of it all. But the really difficult thing was obeying. Dad was very grateful for the help; still his style is calling out orders and having me jump, fetch, open, close, reach, pick up, hold this, grab that... You get the picture.

I'm 46-years-old. It's been almost 30 years since I lived at home. Following orders was way more challenging than I'd anticipated. I didn't always respond with grace and kindness. I did get short with him a few times. I even barked at my sweet husband who was serving both Dad and me with grace.

The bottom line is that I forgot who I was serving. Even though I love my Dad and want to help him, I want to do it on my terms. Being told what to do at each step took me back to a place where I was a powerless kid. It didn't feel very good. Nonetheless, it was good for me.

I was forced to face the fact that in being obedient to God, I will need to be obedient in service to others on their terms, not mine. It was also a powerful "mirroring" of how I can render my step-sons powerless when I dictate how and when things should be done.

Those aches hurt worse than my back, but they are, I pray, growing pains.

Where's the Line?

"In your anger do not sin," The Apostle Paul told first century Christians in Ephesus. The Apostle Peter said that a woman's beauty "should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight."

I agree with both wise men.

Yet Jesus got angry when warranted while, of course, not sinning. He was not a passive man. Peter and Paul were not passive Christ followers, either. One example of Jesus' righteous anger is told by the Apostle John. He told of Jesus' anger at those doing commerce in the Temple -- men taking advantage of the sacred space for personal gain. John reported: "So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple area, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables."

Point made.


So yesterday, I had an angry moment and acted upon it. I'm interested in your thoughts about my behavior.

Brad, the boys, and I were at the Illini football game in Champaign. My alma mater was winning. All was well. Then, it became clear we had three fans from Purdue (Illinois' opponent) sitting three rows behind us who were becoming increasingly verbal and obnoxious. A few weeks earlier we had been at a Bear's game in Chicago with loud and annoying fans behind us. But in Chicago, the extent of the tirade could be characterized as redundantly "cranky." No swearing; just the comments of wanna-be athletes who could have and would have done everything right if on the field.

But in Champaign yesterday, the verbal assault escalated from nasty comments about my team and the refs to a loud proclamation of how Illini players must have performed sex acts (described) to buy off the refs. I heard it once, and boiled. Still, I sat still and prayed. Then, one of them said it again. And whether empowered by the Holy Spirit or just over my edge, I stood to my feet and took 'em all on -- loudly.

I yelled, "That's it! You are done. One more vulgar word and security will be here to take all of you out. You can cheer all you want for your team. You can cheer all you want against mine. But you will not continue to swear and be vulgar. I have children here and I will not stand for it. What's it gonna be?"

As bullies do, they blamed each other and claimed to have not said what they said. Very unbecoming for young men who fancied themselves so cool.

Other fans in our section applauded. Bravos and high-fives followed.

I felt weirdly rattled. It certainly wasn't a gentle word to those Purdue fans -- but was it an unloving or sinful rebuke? I don't think so, but I was suddenly questioning myself. As God's representative, was I appropriate? The boys were impressed, but we talked a lot about the difference between being annoyed and being assaulted by someone's language or actions.

The fact is, they stopped the vile spew. They were still annoying, but within acceptable football behavior.

I don't want to be "the sheriff," but I will stand for what's right and that means confronting what's not.

I'm sure there is a range of opinions on this one -- and I'd love to hear yours.

Realist or Defeatist?

I am a firm believer that facing reality as objectively as humanly possible is a good thing. I believe in seeking and accepting truth, regardless of how I feel about it. That "bent" makes me a fierce defender of God's Word as Truth. It can also cause me to sometimes prepare for the worst in a way that limits hope for the best.

I'm a realist. So when my 11-year-old spaniel, Calli, was diagnosed as having significant changes in her liver consistent with cancer, I immediately braced for the inevitable.

If you've followed this blog, you know I have numerous friends who have fought or are fighting courageous battles with cancer. I hate cancer. I mean I really hate it. Add to that the fact that I've had to euthanize four canine family members in the last nine years, and you might see why I simply resigned myself to enduring another loss. My realism helps me cope, but it doesn't always leave room for the hope that is so vital for understanding that God's in charge.

Calli had a biopsy a week ago today. Yesterday, the Vet called and left a message for me that the test results were back. I put off returning the call until I couldn't stand it anymore.

"I have good news," were the first words out of his mouth. "There is no cancer. She has a form of hepatitis that needs intensive antibiotic treatment. But if she responds, she can fully recover. In fact, the tests show that the liver is starting to regenerate itself."

Wow.

I hadn't left open the possibility for good news in my brain or heart.

As I celebrated Calli's good news, it hit me that in what is a good quest to face reality, I need to leave open the possibility of surprise.

My professor and friend Bob always says, "God's grace never ceases to surprise or sustain." He's right. I won't have Calli forever. And the fact is that she's been the most high maintenance, neurotic dog I've ever encountered. But God is using her to teach me...and for that I am grateful, and increasingly hopeful.