Surprise Ending

Reading verses from Job. Job 19:1-27 to be exact. Starting to read this out of context, I thought it was Job talking to God. I have had those conversations. Why me? I am good, faithful, I read my Bible, I even teach Sunday School Why am I going through so much stuff.

But, I realized this was Job talking to his supposed friend, Bildad It dawned on me, the Book of Job is not God testing Job, but Job coming to the same realization that I am just now starting to get. I don't deserve anything. Anything I have done of any worth is out of the kindness of His heart and/or the work of His hands in, out, on, and through me.

The other day, I was pretty overwhelmed with the financial struggles we were going through. I started to go into the litany of why is this happening to such good folks and why He should hear and answer my prayers. But those words would not come. Out of my mouth came the words, "Have mercy on me". Now to me, that was some type of communion liturgy, not something us common folks would utter. But utter the words I did. In a most dramatic and soul-wrenching way.

It was freeing. It was as if I was a lawyer with my evidence on the table in front of me and in an instance, it disappeared and I had nothing. I was about to start my arguments, and I had not one shred of evidence. Not one thing of worth that would prove I was worthy. The only thing I had and could cling to was His nature, His grace, and hopefully His mercy.

I think that is what God wanted Job to experience. Job was blessed with so much and in that day and age, that translated to muy righteousness. As human beings, we just weren't built to handle that. What we have, the "good" things that come our way become the proof of our worth, the object of our attention, and ultimately the sign of our righteousness. Whether we plan it that way or not. Heck, we may not even
see it that way.

What is so cool about the Book of Job, is that even though it seems to be a betting match with the devil, God is doing what He does best. He uses evil to produce good. Job, after his fall, was twice the man he was before. With a leg up from the devil. Bet there was some snickering in heaven when that story ended.

The Least,

This morning, I fed the homeless......

This morning, the homeless fed me.

I have never been this close to poverty. I have contributed to our church pantry, bought the occasional turkey dinner for "those less fortunate". But today, I was in their midst. A church in Houston has been feeding the homeless since 1981. Every morning, they have over 200 men and women show up at their door, hungry and anxious. Yesterday, I was one of the many that joined them to open that door, greet them, and say "Come on in"

I talked to them, as I cleaned tables. They commented on the weather last night. A horrific electrical storm with strong winds. As I talked with them, it was hard to remember I spent it huddled in a nice warm bed. If they were lucky they might have found room under the bridge. We both knew the forecast of the weekend. For me, it would help me know how to dress. For them, it would help them know how to survive.

I was told there were over 18,000 homeless in Houston. In this country, many retired folks migrate to the warmer states to spend the winter, usually in RV's or to homes they keep here. We call them Winter Texans. I found among the homeless, there are Winter Texans as well.

I spoke with a Vietnam vet. He spoke of the discrimination by the city against the homeless. He said this with a mouthful of biscuit and gravy, provided by the kindness of the hearts of that same city.

I talked to a newbie. I found that although, this is a time for plenty, it provides special inconveniences. If newly disconnected, you still looked normal. You could blend in at the library or spend time in the unemployment office to warm up. Holidays closed many of those warm spots down.

Others, like me, feeling the pull of their hearts and responding in kind, brought little treats of snacks, Bibles, and rain gear. I realized that a lot of folks choose this life. There is a hobo trail that leads from churches to shelters. From meal to meal. From hand-out to hand-out. Some of them have it down, even to their demeanor. The humble posture, the downcast eyes, the shuffling steps.

But there are so many others, that for them, this is life. Life as they know it. Life as I see it, this one Christmas Eve morning. When I found time in my busy holiday schedule to pop down and wipe a table or two.

I left with a new perspective....a new humility. I left with a strong resolve to do this again, more often. Knowing in my heart of hearts, I probably won't.
I left, realizing that no matter what the reason, Jesus said "Come" and they did.

And I got to see it.

Heck,I got to play "Him".

The Next Thing

Tough Times

This is the first Christmas that I have really felt the pinch of hard times. I have been in them before, but I guess my youth and exuberance shielded me from the entire blow. Not so this year.

In saying that, this is one of the most blessed Christmas' I have ever experienced. I think I am getting the hang of focusing on "The Next Thing".

I love to play games. Crossword, solitaire, puzzles, sudoku - you name it, I love it. Computers and the internet have opened a myriad of opportunities and to those of us who have a little OCD to contend with, it is either a blessing or a curse.
Free cell solitaire is one of my addictions.

I woke up this AM in a funk. All the serious and possible ramifications of our present financial situation came down in full force on my sleepy and vulnerable mind. I pulled up a hand of free cell to engage my scattered thoughts. In this state of mind, I could not focus on the next cards available for play. My thoughts and sight followed up each row and I saw all the possibilities of future moves, etc. At the same time, however, I saw all the improbabilities. This did not improve my state of mind.

I realized that my favorite verses in Philippians 4 were twofold. In times of stress and turmoil, we must allow God to guard us from worry and things that might pull us down, interfering with our ability to see His hand and present guidance. However, in other times, we must ask for an equal share of wisdom, not to switch gear and lean on our own understanding. We must live in the moment. It is not a cop out, as sometimes I fear, but the only way I can live in His Light.

If I look up the row of days ahead and start estimating all the dire possibilities, I will get myself in a pickle. But if I make my best decision, with God's help, in the present day, the present hour, the present minute, I can leave the rest to Him.

Why? For the simple reason He knows what lies ahead.

I do not.

This Baby

This Baby

Why is this baby
Asleep on the hay
Who let this happen?
A manger to lay

Stable’s no nursery
What could be stranger
Animals too close
Posin’ a danger

And such young parents
There’s somethin’ amiss
Who gave them care of
A babe such as this?

Hmph! Silly baby gifts
Myrrh and frankincense
See those sharp edges?
Just don’t make no sense

Look at this company
Shepherds and their sheep
Too much noise in here
A child needs His sleep

I know a bedtime story
About a little boy
A mama just like yours
That Son, her pride and joy

Became a preacher man
No place to lay His head
Healed the sick, fed the poor
Til’ news about Him spread

Then some folks got angry
Tho’ He’d only come to save
Tried and crucified Him
Laid his body in a grave

Such a sad cradle song
Makes a body weep
Don’t worry, sweet baby
Rest and get your sleep,

I’ll make up a new story
That one needs mendin’
Leave out that mean ole cross
Give it a happy endin’

Jo

Emmanuel

God with us

I think of all the Christmas "names" that is my favorite. Counselor, King of Kings, Prince of Peace, Lord of Lords. All so dear and near, but none come as close as this one.

God with us

At this time of year,like all the Christmas's of my life, I spiritually stand at the manger. I have touched the manger, looked lovingly at the young couple, and cooed and gurgled with the baby. But in the recesses of my mind, I have always had an ominous feeling that I would have been one of those that would have said "How silly". The hopes of the world, born in a stable, on a cold winter's night? Hmph!

But this Christmas is different. Because I am different. I do not stand on what I know but am falling free among the wonder of what I don't. I don't think I have ever experienced Christmas before. Not really. I have not one decoration in my home. Not because I am a Scrooge, but because I am letting Christmas come to me on soft little cat paw's. It has slinked around the back of the chair and pounced on my heart. I give up, I am His. Forever and ever and ever. And He is mine

Emmanuel

It's A Wonderful Life

I watched a colorized version of the Christmas classic, "It's A Wonderful Life". I did not plan to, but I did.

I was expecting some brash, fake, colorization, but was pleasantly surprised. The color was subtly added and did not detract from the film. In fact, I saw things I had never seen before.

At the beginning of the story, George and Mary dance right into the school pool, and are walking home in borrowed clothing. Mary loses hers and ends up in a hydrangea bush. Never noticed that before.

Later in the story, due to a mishap, George and Mary spend their honeymoon in their delapidated new, old home. Mary and friends make it into a romantic getaway. A vase of flowers in the corner, just happens to be blue hydrangeas. What a special and memorable touch. I only knew because of their blue color.

I think the kingdom of God is like that. It is a dimension we can live in that is colorized. It does more than bring out the the blues and greens. He is able to open our eyes to all people and things around us. The problem is, sometimes it is more comfortable to return to the drab, muted grays of my life. Just to hide and blend in. I think maybe that is why I have to pursue Him. The colors are only visible when I am connected to the Vine. The Master Artist. He has the pallete. The coloring box with all the good colors And when I realize if I draw close enough, He is always open to sharing - WOW!

A Wonderful Technicolor Life!

But you can almost hear Him chuckle. Because He knows there would be no colors if it was not for the black and white and grays.........

What If?

What If?


What if
When I ask Him
To come into my heart,
He says He is already
There

Jo

A Mirror Image

Have you ever seen a baby look into a mirror for the the first time?

I have a big bed with an inset mirror in the headboard. The first time my nine month old granddaughter saw herself in it, she was stunned. I purposefully kept far to the side. Out of her line of vision. She greeted this "new baby" enthusiastically, reaching out to touch this mirror image. Miraculously, the mirror baby did the same.

When does a baby realize the baby in the mirror is, in fact, themselves.

I guess that is the question I am trying to answer in my life. When do I realize the man at the corner, asking for money, is me. When do I realize the 60 year old woman waiting tables, silently, hoping to blend in with the diner decor, is me. And hardest of all, the angry woman at the next desk, closing out the world, including me, by her steely glances and biting retorts. She is me as well

I think I am realizing that loving my neighbor is easier when I realize they are me. It is not hard to love myself. I just must find her in the mirror.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered - Saved?

I am flaking out

No longer do I hold ranks with the country club mentality of Christendom. I do not believe in once saved, always saved. I guess this is no surprise, I never did. But I did believe in the proverbial "boat to heaven" theory and I had my ticket. What scares me is I am, in fact, seriously contemplating the validity of this form of "salvation"! I used to call down lightening on folks such as I!

Wait a minute... Okay I can continue. I have not been turned into a crispy critter, so let me elaborate.

The things that bugged me in my former life were statements like "the kingdom of heaven is at hand". So much of what I took as the "gospel" in those formative years, I find can just as easily make an argument for the other side. Wait a minute, that is my side - that's a scary thought.

Christ was not one to stand on His laurels. I don't have a problem with inequality in life here or thereafter. I am not a universalist, thinking that God is good and kind and He must want everyone in heaven. I just think Christ came to earth to save us from something. He did not come to box us up, seal us with tape, and mark us "Heaven Bound - Handle with Care".

Perhaps He came to save us from ourselves. The spiritual bondage we are in -PERIOD. The inability to do or even to want to do right. Because we can't even get that right on our own. Even when we restrain ourselves and walk on the right side of "good", we draw the line there. The sins of ommission are given free rein and multiply like rabbits. Self induced piety does that to a person. Been there, done that.

God Saves. That was and is the business He specializes in. Be it Egypt or addiction, He is the one to call.

I am not completely clear on this so again, I state my disclaimer. I am not a theologian, not formally educated in anyway. This opinion is not even set in stone.

I am so happy He is writing on my heart and not something had like tablets. It is much more malleable and edits so beautifully.

The Go Between

I have an only daughter. Enough said - almost.

She and her dad don't talk. They both go through me. Each tells me exactly what they feel, what they think about each other, what they think about me. But when they talk to each other, it is like one person trying to impress another. My daughter is funny and humorous, complimentary and loving. My husband cannot say no to anything she requests. He dotes on his grandkids, and generally bends over backwards. But to me they unload.

I am tired being the unloadee. I am tired of being the one that hears all the gripes and groans. I am sick of being the one that is constantly trying to remedy the situation, fix the problem, and then getting the grief for doing it. What is up with this!

Dads are different from daughters. They can just get so close. The relationship is one that is never exactly comfortable. Same way with daughters. They see him as the one coming in from work. The breadwinner, the boss. Thus they go through middle management - me.

I have resented this my whole life. Because each of them knows exactly what to say to me. They tell me everything and anything. They gripe, cajole, cry, and vent. And sometimes, it can be just too much to bear. Especially when what I think is the remedy to the situation is not appreciated.

I think Jesus must have felt like that. God and man. Each unable to communicate to the other. Man living up to what he/she thought God wanted. God trying unsuccessfully,for the major part, to express His love to man. Voila - enters Jesus - the Saviour. The go between, the fixer-upper, the middle man.

I have lost a little steam out of my sails of anger I started this blog with. Maybe I need to not worry about fixing my husband or my daughter. I just need to lay down and be a bridge...... Besides,I am used to being walked over....

Lost: One Sense of Humor

I have experimented the last few weeks. I have been thinking about laughter. I have lost mine. I don't think it is really my laugh. I still have it. Maybe it is the joy that gave birth to it. I don't know when I lost it. Perhaps it happened when I lost several loved ones in the course of a year. I think I might have lost it along that path. The financial stress and strains of these past few months, have not helped. If nothing else, they have surely kept me too busy to search for it.

But I have been looking and I am hot on the trail. The joy is found or expressed in the laughter. I have a trademark laugh. You can here me from across the room and you know it is me laughing. My family thinks it is annoying, my friends say they love it (what can I say they are friends). But I know when I laugh, I am filled with joy. And I guess when I am filled with joy, I laugh. So I have purposefully started making myself laugh.

Norman Cousins, author of Anatomy of an Illness, wrote about his experiences as a patient. He had an auto-immune disease that was very painful. He was very sick and was slowly dying. In a last ditch effort, he tried laughter. He started watching comedy. He would watch Marx brothers movies for hours at a time and laugh. He found that 4 hours of movies could produce 2 hours of pain free sleep. He pursued this and was eventually healed of the disease. Amazing..... More to come

Letting Go or Letting In

Grace..

That elusive, indescribable something. A gift, unmerited favor - no matter what you call it, everyone has a different perception of what it is. The ordinary blessings (whatever that means) in life - breath, light, food, shelter. Or maybe forgiveness - not asked for or even expected. Maybe the answers to prayer - when what we pray for coincides with what happens to us.

The parable of the Prodigal Son is one of my favorites. It is one of those scriptures that grows with you. In each stage of living, I have seen it from each character's perspective. As the child, I saw the generosity of the parent. As an obedient adult, I took the older brother's side. As a doting grandparent, I have seen the Father's view.

But today as I read it once more, it dawned on me the grace may not have been in the receiving of the wayward son home, but in the letting him go. In giving him what he asked for, knowing full well the trouble he would buy, the pain he would suffer, the humiliation and deprivation that might come. But doing it anyway. Not sure if he would ever return, much less escape unscathed - emotionally, spiritually, or even physically.

My generation, in parenting, put our children at the center of our lives. As such, we have created self-centered children. Tough love is a tough lesson many of us do not want to learn. But learning it, some of us are. Loving enough to let go, to cut off, to kick out. And it is the hardest thing we have ever done. But it is one of the greatest acts of love we may ever perform.

Is it in living, not in the favors, but the hurdles that are the blessings? The times He does not rescue me, but allows me to tread water. Even sink? Unmerited favor could very well be unwanted favor as well. The favor unwanted, because I do not look deeper than the surface. To see the Jewel shimmering just below the surface.

Wow, how much of my life becomes "on". Not waiting for the next encounter or next answer to prayer or the next retreat or the next stirring message. But every moment of the day - living, inhaling, exhaling the Living Lord. A God who lets me go and receives me home. Because that is the only way I will find Him.

Ahhhhh.....that is Grace

Blogging

Blogging is a different animal

I have read several blogs, by a variety of folks. Of course, my interest is in folks that are searching outside the box for God. People like me who have come to know God in a very personal way, in a very strict way. I cannot put blame on my church, parents, etc. It was a combination of things. My need to please, my OCD nature, my difficult life experiences at a very early age, the list goes on and on.

But one day, I sat at my computer, with tears streaming down my face, reading the "scripture" of various world religions and it hit me. God so loved the world! God so loved the world! He gave His only begotten Son, not to the sect of followers named Christians, but to all. He sent us into the world not to solicit membership to a club, but to introduce Him. He is not a doll to be dressed in a certain clothing, with a button we push that speaks pre-arranged messages. He is a living, breathing, changing, transforming, loving, empowering force that has been unleashed on the world. It is sad, but I and so many have Him on a leash, holding Him back, teaching Him tricks, making Him beg. Instead of letting Him loose and letting Him do what He does best. He is the piece that fits right into the empty spot in their hearts but that piece may not look the same as the one that fit into mine because the spot was not the same size. So I must let Him go and let Him be. I must let Him go and let Him do. I must let God be God and me be me with Him inside - working, transforming, living, and breathing in me. What a tough job I have! LOL!

Freedom - I never understood it until now. I am not Him. And the closest I will ever get to being Him, is letting Him reside in me. Loving the heck out of me.
Hallelujah.

As A Child

I have found a niche I am enjoying the scratching.

I am working with a little preschool choir at church. I did this in my former life, 25+ years ago. How funny to see how I have changed since that time.

As a mom of a 4 year old, I was very worried about the words of the songs, the way the children stood, how they behaved, if their robes were straight, etc. As a grandmother, I am enjoying the little girl on the front row, scratching where her petticoat rubs. The twin boys, fussing and struggling over who sings louder. The little one, catching her face on the sanctuary screens, making finger puppets. Mothers having real belly laughs as Junior waves at them from the steps.

If growing older means I am able to see with new eyes, bring it on. If it means getting the joy out of enjoy, sign me up. I am sure there are some in the audience that feel I am not an adequate or proper choir director. However, I feel there is One Person in the audience that is clapping His hands in glee right along with me.

Sin

I hate that word. In the more recent Biblical translations, difficult words have received a new coat of cultural paint. But not this word. It seems to have such an archaic, negative connotation. But I cannot think of another word for it. Sin.

I know there were ideas in the Bible that were a sign of the times. Epilepsy - believed to be a possession of demons. Blindness, not a disease but a direct result of some familial sin. Pre-dominant theology agrees that these were misdirected ideas. But what about sin. How do I know it was not misunderstood as well. Jesus' take on sin was definitely not the same as His Pauline counterpart. In fact, Jesus was much more forgiving of our sinful nature than the traditional church of today.

So where do we get our definition. Who sets the standard? Man the creation or God's Incarnation. Rules set by our books of church discipline or the Living Word. Who was the bad guy? According to Jesus, it was not the tax collector, Zaccheus, but the self-righteous Pharisee. And what about His take on the sin. The greater sin was not the woman caught in adultery, but that of those who set her up to be apprehended and stoned.

Perhaps sin is not an action but a chasm God reaches across to meet us. Is it not a thing but space? A chasm created when God created us. A space we must cross to touch Him. To see Him. To be like Him. Not our fault, but our obstacle. An obstacle that makes the journey interesting, difficult, and sometimes near impossible. But, oh my goodness. How it makes that moment of revelation, that epiphany of connection all the sweeter. Sin - the stone that causes us to stumble but also serves as our step stool. How bittersweet it is!

Be Thankful

In Philippians it says:

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything in prayer WITH THANKSGIVING, make your requests known and the peace that passes all understanding will guard your heart and mind in Christ Jesus

This is a scripture I turn to, time and again. I am a professional worrier. I am not kidding. If there could be a PHD in anxiety, I would hold it. I have been a student since I was a kid. My little brother was burned very badly in my presence when I was 8 and he was 6. Over half of his body, third degree burns. His clothes caught fire and as my mother tried to remove the burning clothes from his little body, I pulled burning furniture from the house and put out assorted fires within it. I became an adult that day. I became the mother to a one year old sister, and the unspoken matriarch of a family in the absence of my parents ability to care for both the horrendous two year ordeal of over 20 surgeries my little brother underwent and the trials, emotionally, spiritually, and financially that this brought to them and our family. Until this year some 40+ years later, did I realize, that was when I earned my degree in worry. I did not sign up for the course, it was thrust upon me and my life became a series of "continuing education" courses, either experienced personally or third person in the emotional and physical care of myself, close friend, and family that have gone through horrific experiences. I guess in a way, my anxiety was being fueled and fed, as I watched the worst nightmares realized in the lives of those I loved.

Each trial, loomed large and intense, because it the was the present one. It clouded my thoughts, my common sense, my energies, and fueled the already heightened anxiety I naturally had. But as I have grown older and hopefully wiser, mentally and spiritually, I have begun to look for the "blessing" sooner in the ordeal. It is like a child knowing there is a lollipop after the shot and after so many, you start looking for the lollipop before immediately afterwards. Then during. And finally even as it starts. Silly analogy, but it will have to do for now.

It is the thanksgiving that is the key. Sometimes, the small things we can find to be thankful for, are the only life preservers we have in this sea of pain and suffering. The key is to know the power gratitude has to keep us afloat. The key is to know it is His provision and His presence and His power that makes it possible.

Psalm II

Psalm II

O, my Father
Open my eyes to your beauty
My ears to your wisdom
My mouth to your praises
My heart to your mercy
My hands to your service

Imageo Dei

The Image of God...

What does it really mean? I know it is not physical, but what is it? Is it the image of Him that is only complete when it ignites with the Christ to be had? Is it the receptacle waiting for the blood of Christ to be dropped in so that redemption will spring forth like a sprig of green grass? Is it a key given to the potential, elected - the chosen one who will one day by chance or ordinance be accepted into the exclusive fellowship of believers?

We are all made in the image of God. What part of "all" do we not understand? Perhaps the image is an opaque glass container in which sits a beautifuly white candle. Both are visible and recognizable. But when the wick is lit on the candle, the beauty is breathtaking. It is no longer a receptacle with waxed wick. No. It is transformed by the touch of the fire.

Perhaps that is what it is all about. Am I the "Christ" that He wishes me to share? Not some theological dissertation or restricted fellowship. Not a clique or sect or denomination. I have been lit for the reason of illumination. Is it the Christ in me, not the Christ in my Bible or in my sanctuary that is so hard to believe but so necessary to do so?

Is the perfection we aim for the very thing the world cannot believe or cannot draw close to? Hmmm....

A Promise

I am lying in bed next to my husband. It is 2 AM and he has had a rough week. In addition to ongoing medical and financial issues, he is suffering a stomach virus. This illness is a drop in the bucket in comparison to what he is going through. But this is the proverbial " straw that broke the camel's back". Through the years, he and I have found comfort in tough times, by my reading scripture out loud. I have been doing that and he asks that I find the words to his favorite hymn. I do and start to read them to him:

Hymn of Promise by Natalie Sleeth

In the bulb there is a flower; in the seed, an apple tree;
In cocoons, a hidden promise: butterflies will soon be free!
In the cold and snow of winter there’s a spring that waits to be,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

There’s a song in every silence, seeking word and melody;
There’s a dawn in every darkness, bringing hope to you and me.
From the past will come the future; what it holds, a mystery,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

In our end is our beginning; in our time, infinity;
In our doubt there is believing; in our life, eternity,
In our death, a resurrection; at the last, a victory,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

My husband's back is to me and I suddenly see the jerking of his shoulders. He is crying. Now, a man crying is not all that unusual, but my husband is a big strapping ex college football playing guy and this is rare. Life has literally slapped him up side the head with a big dose of woe and this simple song has released the torrent.

The phone rings, a call from work, and he must go in for a little while. I hate it and am worried about him. But after dressing, he looks at me and with a smile, says, "It is going to be OK".

As I hear the front door close, I know it will. Not because the difficulties have been resolved or the viral side effects completel relieved. But because in the dark of the tunnel, he has seen a small pinpoint of light. He cannot tell me exactly what it is, but he knows it is not a train, and that is the only hope he has to cling to right now.

Funny, how sometimes that is all we have and it turns out to be enough. Not the promise of promotion, good health, or financial security. But the faint glimmer of hope that this too shall pass. He walks with us through the wind, the fire, the water. The fire may be quenched, the winds calmed, and the waters quieted. But not necessarily so. He walks with us "through". How blessed that word is - "through". Not set up camp, hunker down, or build a condo there. Through it to the other side. That is the hope my husband had in his words and his smile this morning. And he shared it with me.
Praise God!

"Please & Thank You" or "Thank You & Please"

In a small department at my college, there were three separate instances of a young woman losing their grandmother. Taken their ages, this was not unusual but in the small group, it was devastating. I don't know if it was the loss or the fact that there was an inability for anyone to recover and offer the others their sympathy or empathy. I found myself returning to one of my favorite scripture.

Be anxious for nothing, but in prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, make your request known. And the peace that passes all understanding will guard your heart and mind in Christ Jesus.

Being a rather anxious person, the "peace that passes all understanding" has been a difficult and elusive commodity. In reading the scripture, the words "with thanksgiving" took on more of an importance. In praying for the young women, I thanked God for the importance of grandparents and realized the loss in my life. It was bittersweet, because from where I was sitting, my grandparents deceased, I could understand the beauty of their memories. Things I never appreciated when they were alive, but that lived on after their deaths. It was incredible. I realized in my praying, thanksgiving was a list by rote of all the things I am grateful for. Most of the time, though important in my life, listed without much thought or feeling. I realized also in praying for these young women, the peace that passed all understanding was the fact that I knew God would be in the situation and He would bring the sorrow and grief to fruition. And there it was - the peace. Not that there would be no pain and suffering, but that it would be part not the whole. Though I may not always be able to do it. I "pray" I remember to say "thank you" before I say "please". Because it is for me.

Christ in Me

Why do we feel as a church, as Christ, that people have to come to us, rather than us going to them? If Jesus had ministered only to those that came to synagogue, he would have had a very tumultuous and an assuredly much shorter ministry. Christ came to me - when I was a fundamentalist, an evangelical, a charismatic, a moderate, and even now in my more liberal theology. He was always the heart of my desire. Funny, but I felt he looked and acted totally different in each stage of my spiritual life. But you know what. He did not change. I cannot go back and tell you at any time, that he revealed any part of him that was not in line with his character. He was to me what I needed each step of the way. But he was always Christ. I just see so clearly now that my need of him was more important than my theologically correct perception of him. And he knew it and he allowed it. He did not compromise who he was in anyway. And as I grew, I learned how to love him each step of the way. And what I saw was what I wanted. I wanted to draw closer and in drawing closer, I was transformed. I hope for the better.

Providence (and not Rhode Island)

Weird word - providence. Kind of antiquated in a sense, but it speaks volumes. I can't really put my finger on it. Heck it's not my finger that needs to wrap around it. It's my mind. When I was a child, there was a song I remember singing,

Be not dismayed, whate'r betide,
God will take care of you
Beneath His wings of love abide,
God will take care of you

God will take care of you
Through everyday
O'er all the way
He will take care of you
God will take care of you

Being a neurotic, anxious, worry-ridden kid, this song was one I repeated or sang on many an occasion. He would make everything better. All bad things would turn into good. God would spin straw into gold. He would take care of everything.

But as I grew older, things happened to me and my loved ones, that were in no way good. And I have to be honest, it was sometimes very hard to see the outline of His hand in those bad things. The events literally rocked and split my world apart.

But as I re-read the stanzas of this hymn today, I realized it was not "them" - circumstances, trials, tragedies - that He promises to take care of. It was me. He does not promise to make "it" better. He promises to care for me through the struggles and in the chaos I travel. My only job is to believe that and live like I do. Not always easy, but how fine it is when I can.

God's Economy

The teachings of the Bible can come across pretty harsh. The Old Testament especially. A lot of killing people, beheading, stoning, etc. Even the sayings of Christ sometimes didn't match the man he was. I think sometimes, we take the statements at face value. The statement's face, not the man who made it.

One is "Judge not lest you be judged" As a child growing up in my homogenous Christian world, I could almost see God behind a huge mahogany podium, black robes, wire rim glasses perched on his nose, looking down on me, gavel in hand, ready to pronounce my sentence. All because I was critical about a friend. It was a simple cause and effect, sin and punishment kind of thing to me.

Lately, I have questioned that. I think it may mean, if you judge other folks, 99% of the time, you are saying the same critical things to yourself. It is a habit. You can't cut someone else down without nicking yourself. I hate doing it and I try my best not to, but it is a hard habit to break. But what a difference it is making in my life. The less I criticize others, the less I criticize myself. It seems I was the judge in black robes. Not God. I am sure it doesn't make him shout for joy, but He is pretty much pointing out one of the economic realities of kingdom living. My cause and my effect. Hmmm - wonder what else I can find.

Grounded

The scripture for my Sunday School lesson today was from Mark 10:35-45. It is the story of James and John asking Jesus for the favor of sitting at his right and his left. It is so easy to chalk them off as greedy, glory grabbers.

But as I worked through the scripture preparing, it made me wonder just how Jesus dealt with his own humanity. It says that he was tempted but did not sin. How did He do that. He could not have been immune because that was not how He or God operated. If he came to earth, he came with all the foibles, weaknesses, and humanness in that mortal frame. The only difference between Him and the everyday Joe or Jo was His divinity. So often, I read the scripture "He went off alone up into the mountains" and thought of it only in the context of needing time apart to be with God. To refresh, rejuvenate, etc. But perhaps, He needed time apart from the temptation of fame, notoriety, and power. That fame, not sought but thrust upon Him by the throngs of miracle seekers and well-wishers. The demands of those seeking Him, his disciples included.

Perhaps when He said "The Father and I are one" it was not so much a statement of identity as one of repetition, a reminder of his human make-up. That he was a human-like vessel for the divinity of God. The power was God's, He was his incarnation.

Perhaps Satan knew exactly what he was doing when he tempted Christ in the desert. Power and fame were a pretty powerful drug even to the Son of God. How hard was it to keep the perspective, when throngs followed you constantly, wanting a word from you, a touch from you, even from the hem of your garment. How very hard for Him and how very hard for Him to explain to those who he would leave behind.

As Christians, the very thing within us of any worth is the very thing that can create a trap to snare us. How do we resist? If our blessed Savior was tempted, how can we possibly not be taken down. Perhaps by remembering we are a vessel. That any good within us is not of "us". That we have two choices. One to be a conduit of His mercy and love to those we come in contact with. To do this, all we have to do is remain open, that His love might flow through us. Our other option is to allow the inherent arrogance and pride squeeze and constrict the flow of Him in me.

How do I combat this? Each and every day saying, not only thy will be done, but adding thy will be done through me. Praise God I can say that and Praise God that He hears and answers my plea

Looking in a Mirror

I am facilitating a class on Christian doctrine. Pretty cool. I have come a long way from where I was the first time I taught it. In fact a really long way.

A lady in my class is exactly where I used to be. Passionate, black and white, good and bad, them and we. I almost envy her. So set in her theology, so sure of herself. It was a comfortable place to be. You were solidly set, your theological seatbelt and ready to roll. You hit a few potholes. though. Some folks alwasys seemed to ask questions that made you uncomfortable. Funny thing is, they were asking the same questions you were thinking but had been afraid to ask. These folks were also people you admired. They lived a life that was full of joy and peace. Confidence was a mainstay in their faith. They were content with the unknown, the mystery, the pieces of the puzzle that didn't fit. And then one day, you got it. You understood and you could not believe it had been there, just waiting for you to find it.

And now I am sitting in a class, looking and listening to "myself". five years ago. The same words, beliefs, and statements. I feel rather uneasy for her. Almost embarrassed. You have all these things you would tell her, to share the grace that is just waiting for her. But you know the words will not be accepted. And since she does not know you, she will probably label you some religious liberal who spouts off a lot of nonsense and stands for nothing. So you will wait. Just like all the folks that listened to you and shook their heads and prayed for you along that graceless road you traveled. And guess what - it worked!

A Song for the Soul

A friend of mine was taken away and placed somewhere, apart from friends and family for several months. I was distressed and in praying, wrote this down

Soul Psalm

Fill me Lord
Fill me with your Spirit
Open my eyes to your mercies
My soul to your wonders
Only you Father are merciful
Your angels attend me
Keep guard of my soul
Enable me Father to see You
To feel Your breath
To touch Your face
To hear Your voice
Fill me Spirit with Your power
Your strength
Your courage
Your hope
Forever and ever

Amen

The Power of the Word

I have read through my life, the power of the Word. I have heard revival evangelists invoke the Holy Scripture as if calling down the lightning of God. I have heard people calling on the biblical promises as if they were spoken by God to them. I have even dabbled in them, saying them like holding a magic lamp, waiting for the genie to appear. But as I have studied recent scripture, I realize the words are not a magic lamp or wand. The power is in the One who spoke them or gave them to man to speak them. He gives power to the Word. Something we cannot conjure up, nor required to have faith strong enough to believe. There is no hidden button or special voice inflection required. They are the words we speak, when our mind is telling us otherwise. They are the cries of pain, when our loved one is critically sick. They are the tears we shed when there is no other way to express our sorrow. When Christ was in the wilderness, weakened by hunger and thirst, they were the one thing He still had. When Satan attacked Him, He had at His disposal so much power and might. He was the very God incarnate. But He chose to fight with an earthly weapon. Let me rephrase that. He chose to fight with a human, heaven provided weapon. The very Word of God given to a undeserving, unappreciative world. But given none the less. There is power in the Word. Oh yes there is!

Mary's Feet

Lessons at Mary’s Feet

Scent of lotion as I soothed dry skin

Her heel cupped gently in my palm

A meager offering in cancer’s wake

My love and fears mixed with the balm

Sisters linked through faith, not birth

Our journey together about to end

The scales of our lives were now tipping

How does one lose their best friend?

Twelve who knew, gathered in a room

Hosannas repeating in their ears

Preparing to sup on bread and wine,

Almost forgetting, His time was near

Christ knowing, as He removed His robe,

Only actions would convey what words lacked.

Removing sandals, He began to wash

The soles of those loved, calloused and cracked

Lesson written in water, not sand

Script of affection, missive to serve

His a Master’s heart, but servant’s hands.

Grace to give, not earn or deserve

Before them in submission, Christ knelt

Ministry not needed, or even desired

Glimpse of heaven, divinely ordained,

Last ritual, final portrait inspired

Did mere water cleanse twelve that night

Or did His tears blend in the bath?

Forgiveness washing betrayal’s stain

Final offering left beside death’s path

My friend’s cross not fashioned of wood

Chemo the nails, radiation the thorn

My last gift to her, I understood

Her plight was to leave, mine was to mourn

Only now, do I truly perceive grief’s gain

His found in death, while mine found in life

To stay or leave, such companionable pain

My only hope born through His anguish and strife

Where is Joy?

There is a song from the musical "Oliver", titled "Where is Love". It is poignant and sweet and so very relevant to so many. I remember as a "wanting to be lovestruck" teenager, riding along in the family car, sitting in the back seat, looking out of the darkness and singing this song. Where was Mr. Right? When would I find him? What would he look like. Handsome, athletic, witty, considerate. All my hoped for qualities fashioned him in my mind. I found him and we have been married for 30+ years.

As I look at him now, those qualities are not quite so clear. Age and health have been a factor, but my love, though not quite so physical, is stronger than ever. The song I now sing is "Where is Joy?". I go through the day listening to the barrage of depressing banter. Talk radio, news shows, minute by minute stock reports. All this information at my fingertips and ear tips for that matter, whether I want it or not. We talk about the things taking a beating our lives - retirement plans, Medicare, healthcare, social security, the environment, - need I go on. That there is a truly abusive class that has evolved. Joy abuse. We have taken the joy of life and beat it, rationalized it, berated it. Labels such as Pollyanna, superficial, pie in the sky, not realistic are bandied about. But joy is not a superficial thing. Paul talks about it in the midst of the worst. Count it all joy when you go through various trials. Not your mealy-mouthed, panty-waist type of joy. Deep, abiding joy. I want some of that. I tried putting my head in the sand - that doesn't work. I tried to be cheerful - that didn't work. Someone or something seems like it has a mission to rob your joy. But if my joy was as deep as it should or could be, would it be rob-able? Would it be so ingrained in my very being that you could not separate it from the me in me? How much does that kind of joy cost? Give me a few 1000 shares of it, please!

Content with much?

Paul writes in Philippians, that he has learned to be content in all things. He goes on to say content in much and content with little. Being of the lower end of the monetary ladder, I always honed into the content with little. That was my prayer. As our world faces an economical landslide, I am looking at the other. I wonder if being content with much is the key to being content when that much is gone. I work in a large medical school, and when I first came to work there, I was appalled with the waste. Coming from the private sector, the income determined what bills got paid, if we got paid, etc. Cost containment, budgeting, etc were a way of life. Here, there were 5 people for each job. Lots of time to play, visit, and enjoy the good life. That is changing dramatically and some folks have not the clue how to live with less. How to work harder for less money or the same money. What a difficult concept if you have not ever experienced it. I have been blessed because I have. I find being content with little is easier than being content with much. Much is never enough. However little is exact and you are thankful for every penny. Maybe that is the key. To live in the moment. To live in the "less" world without looking at the "more's" Maybe it is just the opposite in the "more" world. Perhaps contentment comes with looking at the "less" Is perspective the key

I really enjoy the website - christianmystic.com. The author of most of the articles is Brian Robertson. I like his writing because he is not afraid to say "Hmmm?" In a recent article there was one phrase that I kept going back to:

"For a spiritual traveler, great faith is a must, but so is great doubt"

To me, that was a "rock my world" kind of statement. In my mind, faith and doubt have been totally opposite of each other. Each entity advised to stay put, confined to its own corner. How could it possibly work then - the mix of these two. So, like there is some type of special "blend" as in coffee or do they actually balance each other? Equal weights on an old fashioned scale. Does one have to increase if the other decreases? Or are there times in my life when "_____ happens" and doubt takes the lead. But then, just as I am being carried along by the big D, I look back over my shoulder, and see where I came from. I can see with perfect clarity what I gained from the "_______- ty" experience and faith pulls up neck and neck with doubt, even pulling ahead. Unconsciously, I guess I saw doubt synonomous with failure and mistakes while sucess was just the opposite - suceess and flawless. What do you think?

Into My Heart

When I was a child, there was a little prayer chorus that we sang:

Into my heart,
Into my heart,
Come into my heart,
Lord Jesus
Come into today,
Come in, I pray
Come into my heart,
Lord Jesus

I am wondering, as I grow older and hopefully wiser, if it is not so much the indwelling of Him in me but my journey into Him. I am being drawn like a moth to a flame. It is mesmerizing. As I travel, I am drawn closer by an inexplicable force.

Into Your heart
Into Your heart
Draw me into Your heart
Lord Jesus
Draw me in today
Draw me in I pray
Into Your heart
Lord Jesus

Play

This week I had the opportunity of watching kids play. Being a grandparent, it is something I enjoy more than I ever have before. The interaction, the smiles, the frowns, even the fights. All part of becoming a part. This morning, I was listening to a popular "mix" channel on the radio. I don't know if it was a set for one specific artist, but the message was hopelessness. The message that hit me most was dying is a second chance. As I thought about that, I saw those kids in my mind. I realized that relationship is being lost in our world. I don't mean that in a bad way, because there are so many wonderful things being done with technology. Facebook, My Space - get slammed by the media on a daily basis. But in a way, people are connecting, if in a distant way. It seeems to me that we are living on a frontier. Where we are separated not by vast miles of prairie and mountains, but things just as dividing. Our schedules, our energy levels, our jobs - everything separates us from those we love and those we want to love. I can literally retreat from the world and through technology create an entire world in which to live. But maybe that is the down side. I can be who I want to be, but am I being who He made me to be. I need time to play. Somehow, to carve out the moments of doing nothing. Strange idea, making time for nothing. For silence, for play, for mindlessness. Weird, huh

I am not God

I am not God. Simple, straightforward, duh! But it was a revelation this morning as I went through my litany of prayer gripes. You know as you are asking God to hold your loved one in the palm of His hand, but you can't resist saying, "And while you are, I am sick and tired of so-and-so". You are struggling with yourself, because it is not your business, but it affects you, you hate to see them hurt, wouldn't they be happier if. The list goes on and on. But as I began to roll the footage, the words came to me "I am not God!" I am not God. I have no control, neither do I want to. I don't want the responsibility so why and I strapping it on my stooped shoulders. For that fact, I couldn't fix it if I tried. My fixing would be a band-aid on a festering wound or a bow on a really ticked warthog. Not effective or appreciated. So I am off the hook. I am not God! I read so many statements about the freedom of the Christian faith. I really get ticked off. I don't understand what they mean, really. But today I do. I am not God and I have no business handling, worrying about, fixing, or cajoling the people and situations in my life. Hallelujah (As in the Messiah chorus)

Death: The Art of Letting Go

A young woman died this weekend. Passed away, expired - what trivial words to the magnitude of the event. She was fighting her second round of breast cancer. She leaves behind twin 12 year old boys. A child left behind is sad; two is tragic. There is not an earthly word to describe the loss. A wonderful mother, talented educator, fine Christian, humble servant of God. If we were even able to factor out the suffering her death brings, what a waste of potential and years of love and devotion to family, friend, students, but most of all God. Is that why, when someone dies, we focus on the part they will miss instead of the part that they made. She lived. Her life gave birth to these two precious boys. They share her dark hair, expressive eyes. They share and have seen firsthand her faith. As a teacher, she taught inner city kids, giving many of them the mother figure they had never known. Would not have received, if she never lived. What an incredible gift God gave the world in her life. So why not acknowledge that. It is like the opening and closing credits of a wonderful movie. The anticipation in the beginning as the names roll out and sitting and "hmmming" afterwards, reviewing with those fellow lingerers, remembering the scenes. The scenes that made up her life. Knowing how much He loved her, how can I question her leaving. I can and I will because He lets me. He holds me close to His chest and I beat against it in frustration, and anger, and pain. Until I can't beat anymore. And then exhausted I cling to Him sobbing and I know the tears shed are not mine alone.

Revelation: God's or Man's

A correlation was posed between the church of today and the church or yesteryear. Great minds with brilliant ideas were easily labeled heretics if their information was deemed against the church. In thinking of the here and now, I though how limited our view is as well. There are people thinking outside of the religious or church box and they are getting the same kind of flack. Centuries from now, our writings will be viewed as we now see those of centuries past. Limited but so passionate. My life was changed when I was researching a scripture and found a website on world scripture. The name ,was in itself. interesting. As I read an excerpt from Isaiah (of all books!), I found more or less the same teaching or illustration in the holy words from the Hindu, Buddhist, Jewish, and Muslim faiths; it blew me totally out of the water. In my evangelical mode, my first feeling was one of anger. It was as if they had stolen the Holy Grail. How dare they! Then I started to wonder, where did they get this - how did they get this - unless it came from God, in their land, in their time, in their faith - REVEALED TO THEM!!! I could literally see my club membership card vanish before my eyes. My exclusive ticket to heaven crumble to ashes in my hand and I literally and figuratively cried for what seemed an hour. It took some time to recover from the remorse of what I had been, what I had said, what I had even taught. But then I realized the sin was not where I had been or what I had believed. The only “sin” would be if I stopped traveling the journey.

Who Is God?

A Man Tells Me

A man tells me
God’s voice is like the nightingale
I do not know its song
Have I not heard God?

A man tells me
God’s majesty is like the mountains
But I live on the plains
Have I not seen God?

A man tells me
God’s power is like the earthquake
I have not sensed its tremor
Have I not felt God?

A man tells me
God skin is white as cream
My skin is black as ebony
Am I not made in His image?

Man, please tell me
Where do I find God?


Jo

Just Deserts or Desserts

I have a friend who recently came home to our group from an extended absence. The absence in itself was not one of his own choosing but a form of incarceration/rehab. I was anxious about his return. There were so many emotions that had been slipped under the carpet, just ready to raise their ugly heads. But the return was full of humility and repentance; no one and nothing was prepared for it. Lavish welcome, chastisement, anger, joy - all sentiments in whatever form or fashion, paled in comparison to the deep-seated humility shared. Now, I am sure there will be many that will be unhappy that there should be more consequences to this act of betrayal/desertion. Feelings that this friend should get his just deserts. But what are " just deserts". I always thought it was spelled "desserts" as in sweet treat after dinner. But it is spelled deserts in the plural, meaning "that which one deserves". Interesting. Because when it is the other guy, we are more than satisfied when they receive their comeuppance. However when it is me, I want grace, not justice. Sometimes the spelling, "desserts" is used, as a play on words. I like it better. Just and dessert are oxymorons. Dessert is the whip cream on the top of the sundae. Dessert is the best you could hope for, times 10. Dessert is something you don't deserve. I think maybe my idea of just desserts and God's are not the same. Would the sinful learn more from consequences? A resounding YES, we might say without thinking. Or do they learn more from grace. HMMM? What do you think?

The Holy Relic?

Holy Scripture.

It's power, it's persuasion, it's life.

The biblical writers were revealing their God to us. In their day, in their time, in their mixed theology, with their limited understanding of science, medicine, psychology, etc. It is amazing and, as I read the scriptures, I stand in awe. But not of the written words or of the men who penned them. But of the God who inspired them. His spirit moving, changing, transforming, inciting, and turning over tables, time and again.

The church throughout the ages has held onto this storehouse of revelation and feels, rightly so, that it is the keeper and guardian of this treasure. Some denominations feel, within it's bound volume, lies the original, tried and true literal voice of God. And nothing in this mean, old, bad world is going to touch it. What is sad, there are so many in this world that don't want to. A good part don’t even acknowledge it and those of us that do have fallen out of step with it.

As the church, what do we do? Hold the dusty tome and let it die this slow death, society has relegated it to? Or let it out and let it do all the things it was created to do. It is tougher than we ever dreamed possible, and therein lies my hope.

The Holy Scripture has withstood the stupidity of the religious for thousands of years. It can surely take us on.

Deep In the Heart

Where am I and for that fact, where am I going?

Here's an even better question - exactly where have I been? If I see the Christian life as a journey, what is the destination? Is it a trodding path to heaven or maybe an evolvement of piety as I study and acquire facts. Is it a journey of good deeds, laid by the pathway, like seed spread over the soil, gradually taking root, then growing. Or, as I am beginning to realize, a travel into the very heart of God

Did I have any idea what I was embarking on in the beginning? I can remember in my childhood Sunday School class, singing this little song:

Into my heart,
Into my heart,
Come into my heart
Lord Jesus
Come in today,
Come in to stay,
Come into my heart
Lord Jesus

It seemed so simple then - to take Him into my heart. I was the center of the universe. What better place for him to take up residence.

But if I am traveling into him, this is a horse of different color. I can take no credit for it. He is the one drawing, and I am the draw-ee. The pull has nothing to do with my good works, my Bible knowledge, or my spiritual gifts. My only choice is to release my grip on this life, this world, and the earthly pleasures it holds.

I am discovering ideas and questions that have never been voiced or addressed in the Christian circles I ran around in. I have a growing interest in Christian mystics. In my former life, I would have smirked at the seclusion, meditation, etc. What a pointless waste of time. I am finding it is more like a perfect use of time.

I am not sure I am really ready to pursue this path, to a deeper relationship of this type. Maybe I will take a baby step or too, but this is scary. My journey already looks different from my fellow saints. If I am drawn to this path, I feel it may be a lonely one. Why me? Why did I have to read further and question deeper. I used to be so homogenous and blended in nicely. In other words, what is this and what do I do with it? Any ideas?

Be Good

Good. What exactly does that word mean?

Is it an adjective, an adverb, maybe even a noun - if you add "s". Is it a state of compatibility with others or harmony in the universe. No matter, the grammatical function, how is "good" measured? By me, by you, by the coach, by the teacher, by the government, by the church, by a sense of morality.

Good is an odd word. It is what we try to convince babies of, as we put this rough, foreign substance of cereal in their mouth, right before they crinkle their noses and spit it out. It is what we urge our children with, when we try to fool them into taking the foul tasting cough syrup. We use it when we try to convince adolescents the merit of running our errands or finishing their assigned chores.

But what about in the Bible. It says God is good. So what's up with that? Is it based on his actions, his blessings, his benevolence, his mercy, or his grace. What about me. Is goodness something that bubbles up from within me, or is it a set of polite actions I have been taught since childhood that fall into line with decent living? Is it something I can fake until I get it right or must it be something that is original and therefore non-reproducible?

What if it is Christ in me. Starting in my soul, traveling to my heart, and then making its way to my mind. The seat where my actions are dictated. And if I am his, not by what society dictating my actions, or by manners directing what I should say. But by the inherent spirit of God that weaves itself into the very fiber of my being. Becoming so deeply entrenched, I find I have no choice, nor do I want one.

Kingdom living - Ah.........

Cool

Going Green

I grew up in the 60's. OK, right off the blog, I am telling my age. I guess a lot of people look back at their childhood through rose-colored glasses. But I willing don those shades.   The days of my growing up were really good times. We had lots of sunshine and fresh air and we were out in it, every chance we got. We took off in the morning and only headed home for meals or scrapes on our knees. Fireflies in the evening, butterflies during the day. The indoors could never compete with what the great outdoors had to offer.

For the past decades, there has been a big emphasis conserving and ecology. I hate to admit it, but I was not one to go willingly into this green night. It wasn't that I wanted to be a spendthrift or spoiler of nature, but I just didn't like the idea of being legislated into doing it. In my life, I have found confrontation usually results in a battle, whether justified or not, and this was a classic case in point. I was hell bent not to recycle, acting like a spoiled child in a tantrum.

I think my theology has more or less evolved in a similar pattern. I am almost unrecognizable in the spiritual snapshots of yesteryear. Along my path to God, several good friends have, for awhile, shared the journey with me. I have to admit, I felt a few definitely had a screw loose, but over the years my admiration of them outweighed my disdain for their convictions. I guess it was because I could see in their lives the tangible fruit of the Spirit. I began to question why their lives produced this joy, while the fundamentalism I was following created rules and regulations that kept me bound and gagged. so to speak.   Well not exactly gagged, because I liked to spout my intolerance on a regular basis.  However, as Life knocked me me around a bit, I began to see things from a different perspective.  What I thought was fool-proof theology, had a few holes in it and I was sinking fast.   I began to realize where they came from and where they were headed. I hoped to tag along.

Well, I am happy to report, I am going green. Not because I am supposed to or because some conservationist is going to make me, but in spite of them. I just have to look at my children and grandchildren to find my reason. I want there to be flies in their ointment - of the fire and butter variety.

Mind of Christ

What exactly is the mind of Christ? I am familiar with the love of Christ, the passion of Christ, but I think the "mind of Christ" is much too expansive for me to wrap my thoughts around. Too funny!  Can you even picture my thoughts around His!

I can read the red letter in scripture, hear His words, follow His actions, but I am not sure that reveals the mind of Christ? I mean, I am reading the account of one of several that either experienced first hand the presence of Christ or gathered the information and presented it.  I am reading it in this day at this time.  The 21st century.  As hard as I might try, I can even begin to understand the time, the culture, the social strata, the political system, or even the humor and/or sarcasm of the day.   Don't get me started on the translations, interpretation, and illustrations that we have done to the gospels over the centuries.

I am beginning to think the Sermon on the Mount (or Plain) is the closest thing we have to His thinking out loud - a "what it looks like to think like me" exposition. As I look back over my life I am saddened by the fact that I have converted these thoughts and ideas into an impossible "To Do" list. If He came to my time, to my town, to my hillside what would I hear? I am thinking I might hear him say something like this. "The life I am talking about is so radical, if you were slapped, you would turn the other cheek. To resist murder is easy, but what if hating were the same as murder?"

It is still impossible. But maybe I have to think outside the box, or in this case my mind. Am I limiting his words in light of the boundaries and limitations of my earthly body. Like one of those popular motivational speakers of today, perhaps he was looking at more than "me" What if the mind of Christ is not me getting into His head, but Him getting into mine. Can you imagine what my friends and family would say. "She is just plain out of her mind". And I would say" No, Jesus is just taking up residence!"  What a trip - literally!

So What Now?

Now what? Funny but this is like being given keys to your first car. It is something you wanted and something you looked forward to, but what now. My name is Jo and "Cup of Jo" is the title I chose for this blog, because that is exactly how I want this to work. I will share thoughts, poems, etc. and I ask you to do the same. I am no expert, spiritual guru, etc.,I am only a child of God on the incredible journey to His heart. I want to share with you the sights I see, the spiritual bread I taste, and the feelings of wonder and awe as I continue on. Not the gospel, not the last word, just thoughts of mine that will be growing and changing as I go along. To share between what I hope will become friends. Casual "what if-ing" over a cup of Jo.