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.........
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Saturday, December 12, 2009
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.
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.
Friday, December 11, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
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....
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....
Sunday, December 6, 2009
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
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
Thursday, December 3, 2009
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
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
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