HEART'S CRY

  Where did our backbone go?    You know the one given to us by God to take a stand and keep standing.   What happened to endurance being something to strive for?   Where did our belief and passion go?   When did we quit standing up for what we believe?   Do we believe? We need courage to stand and courage to confront.   Courage to stay and courage to pray!  Courage comes from our beliefs.  Belief.  For me, it is from a personal relationship built on trust and experience.  Knowing that God is who He says He is and that He is with me. The Hebrew word for courage means strong in feet and swift footed.   To be strong,  alert,  courageous,  brave,  stout,  bold,  solid,  hard,  to strengthen,  secure,  harden,  make firm,  make obstinate,  assure to be determined,  to make oneself alert,  strengthen ...

So I'm sitting in my hotel and looking out of my 9th floor window reading Mother Earth News "Guide to Organic Gardening" and watching the craziness below of a very busy city.   "What am I doing?  What makes me think I belong here?"  These are the questions I asked myself as I stepped out of the airport to which I answered myself, "I'm a fish really out of water!"  Good thing no one pays attention to each other here or they might have been a little concerned over this disheveled woman talking to herself. The shuttle guy saved me and was so kind especially after I told him where I was from!  He whisked me to the hotel showing me the best places to eat and passionately answering all of my questions about his city.  Of course he did not know that eating was the last thing on my mind after the morning and the flight in and the status of my mind and stomach. In fact, have a new version of, "If You Give a Moose a Cookie" now but it isn't...

The first moment that they placed you in my arms and you picked up your head and looked me right in the eye as if to say, "It's you."  When I carried you inside of me; I also carried you inside my heart.  You are part of me.  Part of us.  Part of the family that you come from.  Twenty years has passed in the blink of an eye as I am flooded by memories of your growing up. Before you were born you were on the go.  Moving.  Telling me what you thought by kicking me if I bent over and squashed you too much.  Dancing while I struggled through piano lessons.  You would tease your Dad by darting away just as he would put his hand on my belly and then all of sudden you would kick like crazy. "Congratulations! You are going to have a baby!"  That was what the Dr. said at the little clinic in North Dakota.  Shock AND Aw crept over me.  As we numbly walked the few blocks to our first little house hand in hand we said over and over again...

The story of me is a story of family.  The story of land.  The story of a place. Story of experiences, victories, defeat, and love.  Story of neighbors and friends.   It's a story of all the spiritual and physical DNA embedded in me.  A piece of the string in a giant timeless quilt.  Tied together by stories.  These stories are part of who I am. Our stories need to be woven in within our daily lives.  Your story needs to be heard.  Your heart's cry woven within those around you. Let's share our stories! My Dad Dennis found this treasure from my childhood.  A child size pair of pliers from my very own red toolbox!  Even now I am protective.  They were NOT toys but rather very real and important tools.  These pliers worked on forts, saddles, fences and barns.  They might have been used to chase sisters.  Carried in saddlebags, tool box, pocket and with love in little girl hands. Handled like a pro! Visua...

I'm so glad you could not hear me this morning as I began grumbling and complaining.  "It seems like all I do is clean up other people's messes."   Does it ever seem like this is all you do?  I was finishing cleaning up this morning after my youth group when I said, "I'm sick of cleaning up other people's messes."   Humpfff  "What would everyone do without me anyway?"  "Who would do all the work?"  Wow-  That Self-Importance and pride was feeling pretty good.  "Good thing I care."   Sounds so ridiculous as I write this.  It's like saying, "What would the world do without me anyway?"   Really?  Cleaning Up After Other People's Messes?  The still small voice whispered in my heart?   "Does this sound familiar?" said the very kind voice in my ear.  It wasn't condescending or arrogant but rather a simple question deafening my thinking, "Isn't that what I did on Easter?"  Jes...

It's time for an upgrade!  Way past time I'm afraid.  I've driven it until the wheels have fallen off.  Time to trade in for a new version.  This version has been stuck on overdrive for way too long.   I've tried it my way.  My car has ran on expectations, responsibilities, pleasing people, anxiety, fearfulness and trying to do it all.  I've tried down shifting and braking but nothing works.   It carries a load because I've tried like crazy to pick up people and things a long the way and am trying to pull many along with me. I'm holding on for the big crash that is coming as I pull in to trade it in. This version I am picking up is a slower model with good mileage and made for long distances.  It's an automatic transmission with auto pilot.  The most amazing aspect is that I do not have to know where I am going; make any plans or plot the course.  I get to listen to music and talk to the auto drive guy in charge.  I enjo...

"Put your money where your mouth is."  Isn't this how the saying goes?  Budget time so I am looking into where my money goes and I'm definitely putting it where my mouth is!  IN my mouth that is!  By nickle, dime and dollar I'm consuming way too much money on junk.  Groceries are one thing but eating out and that pop when I fill up with gas is a waste. I was reading about the needs of a school in Africa where friends of ours are working.  They have so many students coming to learn that they have to keep adding rooms to accommodate the kids.  They need help!  The needs: $100 for the electric work, $200 for the painting; $300 for the roof and $400 for windows and doors.  Way more important then Diet Pepsi!!!!!!! I say I believe that it is up to us to help the poor and yet "Where does my money go?"  I profess that I put God first in everything and yet does my bank statement show it?  Isn't that a true test of where my heart is?...

"I want you to want me.  I need you to need me."  I remember my Mom singing that song knowing it was her heart's cry.  In my own life,  I know it was what I was crying for.  And still in many ways.  Isn't that where that "people pleasing" drive comes from?   All of our life's motives, desires and cries can be whittled down to a few simple questions. Do I matter? In the world?  To someone? Do you want me around? Do you really love me-unconditionally? Am I important to you? Do you really want to know me?  All of  me? Isn't that the cry of all of our hearts?  And yet.... how many of us are longing to be really known.  Really loved.  And really wanted. This desire cuts across socio economic, beliefs, status, background, profession etc.  It comes with being human.  It is not a respecter of privilege or popularity.  It's not just for "needy" people or mentally unstable folks.   Jesus loves you....

My new favorite country song that I just bought and downloaded on my IPOD.   The lyrics wake up that hidden part of me. "i'm just a girl that needs a little sun, a little rain. an open field to play hey i'm a wildflower. growing in the sunshine, soaking up the way of life i was raised in, running barefoot blooming in a summer shower, ponytail dancing, i cant help it...i'm a wildflower."  http://www.dixiestreams.com/the-janedear-girls-wildflower/ I might be a 40 something mom trying to live the responsible life and yet holding within my heart is that free spirited girl running across the prairie as fast as her horse would go.  Arms wide open, hair blowing in the wind and yelling at the top of her voice. We all have that part in us.    The part unencumbered by caution or self-imposed limits or cages of other people's expectations and values.   The part that wants to really live.   For me it is to follow God without a thought or a...

Releasing my kids and my loved ones to God to care for and protect is a daily challenge for me.  Releasing is a good thing.   Being anxious and driven to fix or help or explain is not a good thing.    As people, wanting what is best for those we love is a normal desire.  We want more for our kids.  We don't want others to go through what we have.  We want to smooth the path and ease their hurts and struggles and pain.   And yet that is so arrogant and selfish.   I can't fix a thing.  I can't help in anyway shape or form especially when not asked. When they were young I found it much easier to let them fall and skin a knee or bruise a shin.  Bruises and bumps and even stitches were necessary learning tools.  Letting them suffer the consequences of being late to school or not having supper because they were not at the table was just part of life.   Giving my children the opportunity and responsibili...

Gypsy blood runs through my veins I believe.  I get this insatiable urge to go and be and do. I want to do it all!!!  Reading my missionary newsletters today and my first thought is, "I want to go."  Good Grief.  My heart can go out.  My money can go.  My prayer can go.   But my heart needs to stay.  Here is where I am.  Here is where my heart stays.  Doing what God has called me to BE right where I am.  Here.   Here I am a wife.  My energy and my passion needs to be here.  Staying Here with my boys in prayer, time and love.  Staying with my church and my job.  Staying with the field that I am to take care of.  Staying.  Only being and doing what I'm supposed to be doing and being.  First things first.  Being faithful in the little the things. Here.   If I can't truly stay in the where I am then how will God ever give me more.   Staying in love. ...

I love my chimes hanging by my patio and bedroom window dancing and playing for me.  Moving from a slow dance to a quite the jig depending on the wind.   I enjoy the simplicity.   They don't make an effort or work themselves up into a lather but rather move with the wind and let what happens-happen.  They just are. They are content.  And it is a pleasure to me! Drinking coffee with my Dad, Vicki and David this morning before they got on the road.  Talking, laughing and watching the eyes connecting of some of my favorite people. Standing in the sun watching young people running with all they have in a local track meet.  Hoping they never lose their exuberance!!  They make me smile. Two brothers leaving for work on a Saturday morning driving off in an old pickup truck. Phone call from my son. Simple.   Pleasures.

My heart can be such an anxious one.  Seems like the pedal to worry and anxiety gets stuck and on overdrive.  I know the verses and the "where does it get you" and "what does it change?"  As my son said to me, "Worry is an addiction too Mom." I've studied the physiological affects of anxiety and stress and what Adrenalin does to ones system. Yes, I should know better. I do but... All of that is in my head but it takes an arm around me to get it to my heart .  My husband took the time to hold me just enough for me to flip that switch.  

The term underground fascinates me.  It can be defined as subculture or counterculture of a larger culture.  It was used to describe the Underground Railroad which was a loosely knit system of moving people out of slavery and to freedom.  It was not a building or an established system but rather a movement of people.   I've been thinking a lot about the subculture of Christianity in America and if I do say so myself-it bugs me.  It seems as if we are more worried about the building, the structure, the rules and regs and the rote memorization of all the above to be really involved in people's lives and in moving with them from slavery and captivity to hope and freedom. The subculture of the church in America as a whole tends to have denominations and buildings and hierarchy and rules and who is in and who is out and current trends and fads.  Whereas the church that God describes and promotes is individual people, individual groups and individual and d...

They journeyed and they camped.  The entire message of Numbers 33.  I knew the Israelites were in the desert for 40 years but saw it more as wandering around and yet it was an intentional journey.  Rabbi Pinchas Lipner states that they did this over 42 times in a deliberate journey.  "The Israelites didn't just wander in the desert.  They were moving on a path that led them to restoration, healing and growth-and don't forget the death.  The growing of the next generation happened in those 40 years." So much like my life now.  I journey and I camp.  I go through a process of awareness, change and growth and then wait.  Move a little more and then camp out.  Comforting to know that God doesn't leave us in limbo but rather the moving and the camping are both part of the plans that he has for us.  Plans to give us hope and a future.  Plans to help us grow and heal and become.  A process of seeing the old die out and bec...

HEART'S CRY: Remembering My Uncle : "The little things really do matter! This weekend I picked up a suburban that I bought from my Aunt that was my Uncle Terry's. Fi..."

The little things really do matter!  This weekend I picked up a suburban that I bought from my Aunt that was my Uncle Terry's.  Finally home, I took it to give it a wash and ended up with a flood!  Remembering my Uncle Terry as I washed and all of those little lessons that he taught me about life. He wasn't perfect AT ALL but I liked him and he was very good to me.  I remember going to their house in the summers and hanging out with them.    Remembering him standing outside and yelling "praise the Lord" in the morning.  Braying like a donkey.  Burping and blaming someone else in public.  Riding in his race car.  Chewing Red Man until Judy puked!!! Driving his daughter and granddaughter to CA that summer he intentionally gave me many experiences stopping and driving across country which broadened my worldview!   And his words to remember to, "drive with your shoes on." The summer before my senior year I worked wit...