HEART'S CRY

The last few days of 2014 are slipping by Reaching in to the rushing river of time Snatching moments as the minutes supply Life creating it's ceaseless rhyme What I thought an endless water supply These days of my life continue to pass  Realizing my time has been misapplied Today is the day to make this life last Lifting my head, I sound my battle cry This is the year I commit and declare To throw it all down, and live with a clear eye No longer will I live unaware 2015 is around the bend Now is the time so let it begin Each moment I will attend Live each day born again

A young and soon to be father leads his wife and soon to be mother on a donkey.   A very soon to be mother.   The pictures all seem so serene and peaceful.   A handsome Joseph leading a smiling Mary on an obedient donkey. I wonder what it could have been like on that road.  The world was in chaos.  They were told they were carrying the child of God.   (Just that knowledge would freak me out!)  She was pregnant, tired and emotional.   Were they feeling vulnerable?  Afraid?   Did they collapse along the side of the road in tears at one point along this road? Was Joseph wondering if he could provide and be an earthly father for this boy?  Could he protect Mary?   Did Mary have the concerns all young mom's have?  What is delivery going to be like?  Where will we sleep?  Who will be there?  How does it feel?  Will I be all alone? Could they have wondered what this child...

Weighing The Value of Family How does one weigh the value of a family? Tell me, what do we place upon the scales? Bank accounts, land and polished ideals? Does perfection weigh more than mistakes we have overcome? The moments that matter or memories made Tears shed.  Hearts broken.  Prayers prayed. Dreams dreamt and again destroyed Shreds of lives really lived creating a rich loam.  A family soil rich and full and ready to grow a legacy in Is it the brokenness of a family that brings the most value?  Carries the most weight?   The humbleness and wisdom filtered through the morning milk strainer is sweeter because of the process of being pressured through a filter. The value of a family may not be what is created or born or built The true value of a family may be in the process of living or being one Knowing the family is God’s vehicle for eternal lessons The value of keeping a family together in spite of or because of.   Part of...

A family moved to our area bringing Operation Christmas Child to our church.  This practical ministry is a blast!  I love thinking of the boy and girl who will get my family and church boxes.  Will this small box give a small bit of hope and joy? Romans 8:24-25  For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. Items for my older boy and girl to go to Operation Christmas: Shoe box plastic container Bar of soap Toothpaste Toothbrush Washcloth Pillowcase Colorful duct tape Squeeze ball Pencils and Colored Pencils Sharpener Small notepad Pens Hammer and nails Screwdriver and screws Sewing kit (Thread, needles, safety pins, buttons, floss) Para-cord Flashlight and batteries Many people struggle this time of year.  Homeless men, women and children or domestic violence victims need a small light and spark of hope.  Let'...

Tell me a story.  Tell the time about...   My kids loved stories when they were little.  (Usually more at bedtime.) One of their favorites was when I would start with a story about the day and mix in a lot of nonsense!   Now, I crave their stories!! Stories.  Everyone has one. Stories are created from moments, experiences and memories of a life.   Stories are full of the spirit of someone else.  Perspective and culture and learning. When we tell or listen to stories, we experience another.  Stories are beautifully textured and complicated works of art created out of a wonderful life.   To me, it is a great honor when someone shares a story with me.  Whether the story teller is 2, 20 or 80.   The story is an open door.  A place. At first the stories open to the entry way.    Soon, stories invite us to the living room and the kitchen table.  Stories make us feel right at h...

Dear boys, I stood in the dark tonight in our place.  You know the one.  The one God carved out just for us. Nestled in a draw between two worlds.  Bringing together past and present and eventually future. While, it was not the land belonging to us we left behind in our coming.  Nor would it ever be ours in ownership.  It is our place. A small piece of land and memory suspended in time in your Mama's mind and heart. Our house and yard tended to be everyone's place.   The church is everyone's place. This...this was just our place.  A place for three boys and their mom. When I am here, on nights like tonight, I miss you more then you can imagine. This place of ours.  Contentment, belonging and longing fill my heart.  The girls' hooves pounding in the night to make their way to freshly thrown hay makes me smile.  I pause and find myself holding my breath.  Maybe time will stand still in this ...

Arm's length living. We live in a world of fear and trivial relationships. A world of "relationship poverty," according to Dr. Bruce Perry. A world of making things complicated and living in ambiguity. Safe, dangerous, real and fake and confused world. An arm's length world.  Arm's length living. Keep others at arm's length AT ALL COSTS. Don't get involved or say anything or make a stand. Don't make waves or challenge or think. We like our arm's length world. If we judge, criticize and completely live with our wall held firmly in place around us. Create programs and strategies. Have a meeting or a committee. Create chaos and busyness. Stay locked up in procrastination and slothfulness. Run and hide. We are bunnies.  I want to be a lion. What we need instead in our world: Leaders who stand on a universal truth. Men and women whose yes is yes and who believe in right and wrong. ...

I remember the Christmas Santa brought me a small 45 record case and records.  Ahh Kenny Rogers and Alabama and Journey filled my mind. "You got to know when to hold them.  Know when to hold them. Know when to walk away.  Know when to run." It is funny how these songs from my childhood pop into my mind at weird times. (Trust me, we are getting to a spiritual truth soon.) Joshua was made the leader of the Israelite as they headed back to the promised land.  Remember, they had messed up the first time around and had to wonder the desert for 40 years until they were ready to listen. This story is fascinating to me as Joshua didn't just take off willy nilly into the fray hoping God would clean up the pieces, as sometimes do.  He followed God.  God told him to hold position or attack. Adam Barr in his "Exploring the Story" states, "Joshua must have experienced deja vu as he entered the Promised Land.  He had stood in the same plac...

Did you know in order to grow and move forward, we have to be honest with ourselves, God and others?  To acknowledge.  To confess. Seems to be a simple enough statement.  The information is easy to grasp.  It's the doing that leaves me breathless from exertion.    I remember my experience with the hidden weed behind the garage. There is a tall weed hiding behind my garage that needed pulled.  Simple statement.  I walk out and simply grab and pull it out?  Right.  The ground is hardened from lack of water and the roots are very deep.   Naively I grab the stem to yank out of the ground, and find myself holding my hand in pain where it cut me.   Since I learn so quickly, I grab and yank more.  Pride and stubbornness prevail and I work harder at yanking until all of the leaves are stripped and the roots are still solidly in the ground. Do I quit?  Absolutely not.  Yet.  I get the hose and ...

Just to be clear, I'm not nurturing simple thinking or being a simpleton. I want to nurture simplicity and simple being. My husband preached this Sunday the last sermon in his series on the Lord's prayer.  It was profound and simple in only the way He can make it.  He spoke of the "passion for complexity and tolerance of ambiguity" our culture embraces.  He spoke of the mindlessness doing things for the sake of doing them and our seeming desire to complicate every aspect of our lives. Hoops, programs, policies, committees, measuring for measuring's sake and complicating our lives in the name of progressiveness. The New Testament was written in the everyday language of the time.  "Just above grunts and giggles," he stated.  I believe God wanted His Word and His way simple.  He wanted to be available to every single person. So simple a caveman could do it.  O.k. so I'm not good at jokes. There is a little truth to it. I a...

I wonder if I will ever learn?  Learn to surrender before being broken.   Broken surrender seems to be the only way to reach the cry of my heart.  The cry of, "I'm done.  I quit.  You take over."  It's more feeling deep within my heart then a prayer from my mouth.  Words fall short.   Working harder or running away isn't working.   Anxious activity is like boxing the air. Distraction, avoidance and procrastination certainly doesn't help. Fighting?  For a while, until the adrenalin wears out. Pumping up faith like we used to do with my Grandma's well pump leaves me exhausted. Nope. A cry of surrender. I need the great physician to place his healing hand on my brokenness as I've been trying to heal and fix it on my own. This time the symptoms revolve around money and my lack of handling it well.  The point of the pain I don't want to face. However, the symptoms radiate out from a heart that needs Him.   ...

The eyes have it. The look. The, "I want you to notice me, experience me and help me to know my life matters," look. Eyes are scanning.  Picking up the subtleties and trying to read the language. Eyes give the message, "I see you."  "I am listening."  "You matter." Or the questions.  "Do I matter?"  "Do you see me?"  "Am I known?" Tonight I watched middle schoolers who were helping at a fundraiser.  While doing their jobs they watched to see if others are noticing.  A thumbs up or a smile matters. In the stands with my husband by a few more middle school students.  A young man picks us out and by half time is sitting by us.  Why?  We listened.  He told us about his game and the plays on the field in front of us.  Kept us up to date as to what was happening.  By half time, he knew we thought he mattered. If only I could be still more often.  Be still and watch.   ...

Nebraska is in the national news right now.  For our amazing Medical Center and their care of Ebola patients.   We are proud! And for an article from a teacher in Lincoln Public Schools for referring to children as Purple Penguins instead of boys and girls.  We are not proud. So being called a purple penguin instead of a boy or girl will help our children embrace their identity and learn who they are?  This is so beyond disturbing to me.   It is dehumanizing.   It is the same as "that ADHD kid," or those "retarded kids."  Cheerleaders are air heads and football players are dumb.  Poor people have children who are not capable to read. Etc. Etc. Etc. NO, they are people.  Individual and precious hearts, minds and souls.  Strong and capable with individual strengths and gifts. More of the pouring everyone in to one big proverbial soup where differences are shamed and lines are blurred.   This...

"Again," I greeted my sink of dishes this morning.  As if it is some sort of surprise they are there.   "I thought you were done," I chuckled.  I really dislike dishes. I'm not sure if I was talking to the dogs, myself, the dishes themselves or the air; nevertheless, it was quite the passionate argument as I made coffee. "Ahh, this is why you dishes and laundry drive me nuts," I expand.  "You are never done.  I can't wash you and move on.  You come back over and over again."   Picturing "Chip" from Beauty and the Beast makes me laugh. Dishes and laundry are so much like my relationships and my spiritual life I realize.  Neither life nor relationships are a series of tasks to complete.  A silo activity to be moved on from and dragging ourselves back to. Our lives and our relationships are a dynamic daily process.  The daily building upon, doing over and continuing are the stuff relationships are mad...

I'm so excited to reconnect with you and pray you are listening to your Heart's cry! For months, I stood on the edge of a cliff.  A cliff  I've walked up to and backed down from thousands of time.  I've finally jumped. July 31st was the last day of a very amazing and safe job.  I loved the people I was able to meet and the professional learning.  However, it had also become death by a thousand paper cuts to my dreams,  I lost my computer, office, identity and routine.   For a month and a half, I wondered through limbo.   I hid.  I felt disconnected and afraid.  I read and wrote in my journal.  Blown about by winds of change.  Like the brown leaves seeking a place to land. Fear drove me and I wanted to take new job opportunities and jump on board new causes.    Grief gripped me and surprised me.  In counting the cost, this loss of relationships was not factored in.  I thought the friends from work ...