Are you hungry yet?

Hi guys, I was listening to this awesome speaker, Ravi Zacharias. He is possibly one of the best Christian apologists of our time. I then decided to read some of his blog. This was such a fantastic read, I thought I'd share. I highlighted the portions that were especially meaningful, although the entire text is good stuff! A very nice pick-me-up--read to the end!

The Hungering Spirit

I have pondered long and hard the question of why people turn to God. I remember a woman from Romania telling me that she was raised in a staunchly atheistic environment. They were not allowed to even mention the name of God in their household, lest they be overheard and their entire education denied. After she came to the United States, I happened to be her patient when I was recovering from back surgery. When I had the privilege of praying with her one day, she said as she wiped away her tears, "Deep in my heart I have always believed there was a God. I just didn't know how to find him."

This sentiment is repeated scores of times. More recently, I had the great privilege of meeting with two very key people in an avowedly atheistic country. After I finished praying, one of them said, "I have never prayed in my entire life, and I have never heard anyone else pray. This is a first for me. Thank you for teaching me how to pray." It was obvious that even spiritual hungers that have been suppressed for an entire lifetime are in evidence when in a situation where there is possible fulfillment.

Although I agree that the problem of pain may be one of the greatest challenges to faith in God, I dare suggest that it is the problem of pleasure that more often drives us to think of spiritual things. Sexuality, greed, fame, and momentary thrills are actually the most precarious attractions in the world. Pain forces us to accept our finitude. It can breed cynicism, weariness, and fatigue in just living. Pain sends us in search of a greater power. Introspection, superstition, ceremony, and vows can all come as a result of pain. But disappointment in pleasure is a completely different thing. While pain can often be seen as a means to a greater end, pleasure is seen as an end in itself. And when pleasure has run its course, a sense of despondency can creep into one's soul that may often lead to self-​destruction. Pain can often be temporary; but disappointment in pleasure gives rise to emptiness—not just for a moment, but for life. There can seem to be no reason to life, no preconfigured purpose, if even pleasure brings no lasting fulfillment.

This is why I believe that the intertwining of pain with pleasure is at the root of the human dilemma and at the core of the hungering spirit. People in pain may look for comfort and explanations. People disappointed in pleasure look for purpose. But this is where, I believe, the West has lost its way. In our boredom, we may search for an escape in the strange or the distorted, while God has revealed himself in the person of Jesus Christ.

Only in the Judeo-​Christian worldview is every person understood to be created in God's image, for God himself is a person. Likewise, each person has relational priorities that are implicitly built in, not by nature but by God's design. Consider the tragedy of the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. Even in that stoic culture, where community rises above everything else, each one who wept was grieving the loss of their own loved ones: They were not grieving just for the total loss of life but also for their personal loss. This is real. It is not imaginary. We stand before the individual graves of the ones we love more often than we stand before a graveyard in general.

But there is more. Personhood transcends mere DNA. There is essential worth to each person. In Christianity, the essence of each and every person and the individual reality of each life is sacred. It is sacred because intrinsic value has been given to us by our Creator, who has revealed himself in the starry skies and upon a nail-scarred cross.

The more I reflect on my own life and interact with others, I am fascinated to see the design God has for each one of us individually, if we would only respond. The truth is that I have known people who in the peak of their success have turned to God, and I have known others, drowning in pain and defeat, who seek God for an answer. Either extreme leaves haunting questions. God alone knows how we will respond to either.

God has created us for his purpose, and relationship and worship are built into this design. God alone can weave a pattern from the disparate threads of our lives and fashion a magnificent design. Perhaps today, if you will stop and reflect on it, you will see that Christ is seeking your hungering spirit.

All for now,
Tricia

Danger Zone!

(Photo credit: Found at www.indiana.edu/~nehrigr/bird-intro/slides/killdeer_9661.html)

"It's okay, little Mama bird, I won't harm your babies!" The killdeer swooped higher and higher, showing great acrobatic feats as she squawked loudly, protesting as I drew closer to her nest. I felt so sorry for her. I knew she was desperately trying to take care of her "children," and was worried for their safety.

However, I couldn't stop thinking that she was a little to blame. Killdeer, sweet little birds like the one shown in the above photo, lay their eggs right out in plain sight for all to see. She had, whether she realized it or not, placed her own family in danger. Mama bird then showed her dramatic side:  Act I included her "broken wing" act that these plovers are so famous for, where they pretend they are wounded when anyone comes close to the nest. Pitiful cries complete the act and if she captured your attention, she considers herself worthy of an AAA (Aviary Academy Award)!

This protective little mother made me think of my own maternal skills. Do I unknowingly place my "baby bird," in harms way? What would this look like?

Here are a few things I will do to keep my sweet daughter out of harm's way:

1) Be careful what I let her watch on television or movies. When I was little, we used to sing, "Oh, be careful little eyes what you see, oh be careful little ears what you hear..."

2) Remind her to choose her friends wisely. Especially as a preteen, I need to make sure that Hannah, my little social butterfly, is careful with whom she becomes close to. I mean, I definitely want her to get to know all types, all ethnicities, all ages, all races, and so on. But I especially want her to think about who her closest friends are, for her to choose those who lead her closer to God and not farther from Him.

3) I need to be careful what I watch. I need to make sure I'm not a hypocrite, and watch or listen to media that is not adhering to principles I stand for. She's watching me. She's watching her daddy. And she will make choices based on what we DO so much more than what we TELL her to do.

4) Watch my language. I'm not just talking about curse words (although that counts too). I'm talking about curbing my negativity. I will sometimes realize too late what's coming out of my mouth is just "blah negative blah negative blah." And I cringe. I have to go to her (actually did this today) and tell her, "Hey, I didn't meant to focus on just the negative. I'm sorry. That was wrong." I don't even want to say how often I have to do this.

I must watch my language in how I talk about people as well. Do I air someone's dirty laundry in the privacy of my own home, where little listening ears can hear? If I do, I need to realize that she is listening to me talk about someone else. She is listening to me, basically, judge someone else with my tone or attitude, and that's not what Jesus does. When the woman who committed adultery was thrown at His feet, His loving, caring ways won her heart. He "chased" off her accusers by writing their sins in the sand. Then He said that He did not condemn her, but to go and sin no more.

This makes me recall the last part of the song I quoted earlier, "Oh be careful little eyes..." The rest goes like this: "For the Father up above, is looking down with love, Oh be careful little eyes what you see." Isn't that great? It's so true. He's looking down with love. Not condemnation. Just longing for us to keep His ways and follow Him.

I want to do my best to keep Hannah from all the above mentioned "danger zones," and many more out there. I long to place her up high, in the "shadow of the Almighty," as much as possible. I will "mount up with wings as eagles," the same eagles who build their nests in tall trees or cliffs. A high place. A safe place. That's where I plan to be.

Won't you join me there?

A light in the darkness

First of all, I want to say that my heart goes out to the people of Japan. I'm so sorry for the losses, the heartache and tragedy they are dealing with. I pray they will continue to receive the aid and support of people everywhere.

Lately it's been hard to catch my breath, actually for both John and me. It just seems like life goes at such lightening speed! I have no idea how people, especially moms and wives, work outside the home (part time OR full time!) It just seems like there's "always something," doesn't it?

Maybe that's why I've been struggling with depression again. Just that awful, overwhelming sense that I can't get caught up, and want to cry often. But really, it's more than that. I think the combination of tragedy in the news, plus earthquakes, plus personal struggles has just done a number on me.

I think most of all, my hormone stuff, which I thought we had figured out, is still up in the air. Basically, my doctor is trying to figure out the dosage I should be taking. Meanwhile, my face has broken out SO bad on the bottom part of my face--it's so embarrassing! I know, I try to keep it in perspective with the Japanese who have lost so much this past week. But still...

I hate that deep DARKNESS. It's so hard to just function when I feel like crying so often. I hate feeling on the edge of either crying or yelling at someone. Last week some neighbor kids came over looking for Hannah, and when I told them she wasn't here, they asked, in what I thought was kind of a snotty voice, "Where is she?"

I could have handled that, but they just stayed outside the door, peering in our window! What in the world??!! The one girl, hands on hips, still continued, very demandingly, "where IS she?" loud enough for me to hear through the window. It was such a weird exchange! I tell you one thing: I wanted to yank that door open and tell her... Well, I should stop there. But I took a deep breath and opened the door and actually said, "I don't want to hurt your feelings and I don't know a nicer way to say this, but it's really none of your business."

The question itself didn't bother me so much as the attitude. Grrr! These young girls, sister, really *are* sweet girls. I think they just didn't realize how they came off.

But the thing was, I was so CLOSE to yelling at the oldest! But I knew, really, that it wasn't just her. It was me, with my hormones and all being so close to the surface.

Fast forward a few days: The same girl, we'll call her "S," knocked on the door. Thankfully, Hannah was home and could play. But I decided to talk to them then and there. I gathered both girls close to me, squatted down, and told them that they had upset me the other day. That because they were so demanding, that it made me feel like getting mad at them, and that they need to learn 1) to ask questions in a sweeter manner and 2) that there are some things in life that are none of their business and they need to learn what sorts of things they are. I felt kinda stupid, because my voice got a little "quavery" while talking with them. Their eyes were as big and round as they listened to me. I could tell I had their attention--maybe being near tears helped them listen even better. (Wasn't trying to be manipulative!)

I just think there are not enough people in this life sitting down to explain things to children (or adults for that matter). We are all in a hurry, rushing and huffing and puffing if someone offends us. But we don't take time to sit down and say, "This bothered me. I need you to do _____ so I don't want to yell at you. Can we change how we do it next time?" I know it's not always possible. And that one night, I absolutely felt like I could NOT do that to save my life!

But I don't ever want to give up! There are so many fake, mean-spirited people out there who say they love God and then turn around and would just as soon "spit on you as to look at you." Or whatever that expression is. And I'm tired of dealing with those Christians myself. I'm tired of them giving a representation of God that does not even come close to what He's really like.

Last night, John and I came up with reasons for me to "give thanks" for my depression. (Deep breath) Here we go:

~ It makes me want to get closer to God, to read my Bible more.

~ It makes me want to help others who are hurting too, to reach out to them, and to pray for them. I know what it's like to hurt, and I know the darkness of a mental illness (if you count depression as one).

~ It makes me stop thinking about myself and focus on someone else. I can't always go and "volunteer" somewhere, as people sometimes suggest. But I truly do pray for people, think of them, and try to write little emails or notes of encouragement.

~ It makes me want to help Hannah and John get closer to God. That way, even if I can't help them and show them love when I'm feeling so down, they have Someone who can show them loads of love.

~ I realize how dependent I am on God for my very breath, and how I can't do anything without Him.

All for now,

Tricia

p.s. My doctor and I decided that, while we're trying to figure out the best progesterone dosage, I will go back on an anti-depressant for a while. I'm also taking something natural to help me sleep better.

House of Representatives

Warning: No political parties were mentioned in the writing of this story. :)

When I was younger, my dad used to call me his "little ambassador." My dad's position in the Oklahoma Conference of Seventh-day Adventists caused him to travel all over the state. I often went with him. One of my favorite times of the year was campmeeting, which is like a Bible camp, where you hear all sorts of good speakers and, for the kids, have terrific meetings that teach you about God.

The ministers, in addition to their other 1,000 duties in life (!), had to arrive early to help pitch the tents. Yep, you read that right. The pastors had to set up tent after tent in the 100+ degree weather in July (hottest month of the year). So as daddy readied himself for some heavy-duty manual labor, I'd head out to find the other kids who'd come with their dads. All the other PKs (preacher kids) banded together during Camp Pitch. Then, in Week Two, the actual week of campmeeting, we'd scatter like the Diaspora to find other friends besides us PKs.

Within a few hours we'd all be hanging out, best of friends, and treating ourselves to snow cones or a dip in the pool. (Did I mention my dad was still hard at work pitching tents? or, if he was really lucky, he'd get to be the Parking Lot Supervisor. This coveted position, while still outside in the extreme, no-shade heat, allowed one to rest while simply waving arms like a semaphore to direct all those crazy Okla drivers as to where to park!)

I got to know everybody, their brother, their cousin, and their dog. Normally an introverted child, I seemed to blossom in this setting and, for just this fortnight, became an outgoing, gregarious person. And again, that's why I was his "little ambassador." He told me I did all the important work of getting to know people and that, because of me, they were naturally predisposed to liking him as well. Not sure if that's true, but it sounded good!

Now, fast-forward to the present day.

The other day we received an interesting note in the mail. A thank-you note, from our apartment complex office. The office manager was thanking my dear husband for going above and beyond, in picking up all the garbage around the Dumpster, because so much was left outside on the ground due to heavy snowfall (the garbage collectors had to make a second trip that day, but John didn't know they were coming back.) John threw so much trash in the Dumpster, it was almost halfway full after he finished. Apparently one of the office workers "caught" him at it! And sent a thank you note. Wonder of wonders!

Now that John occasionally substitutes at Hannah's academy, the staff and teachers have gotten to know him well. He has made quite an impression on them. For one thing, he files a report (yes, people, it's true!) for any teacher he substitutes for, so they know whether the kids behaved themselves--or not. I can't tell you how many times I've gone into the school office and the efficient, matter-of-fact school secretary gushes (and this lady NEVER gushes), "Oh we just LOVE your husband!"

I think of my own child, playing with the children in our neighborhood. Her manners, her compassion, her sheer delight at life--I like to think all of these represent John and me. Even if our neighbors never met either of us parents, would they have an idea of what we are like based on our daughter's behavior? I believe so.

I consider myself well-represented! So now I'm thinking, "Am I representing God in the truest light, so others can see what He's really like? Do they see His love pouring out of me?"

Jesus Christ said numerous times, "If you have seen me, you have seen the Father." He knew we had questions about what this mysterious Being, this divinity was like. Was God angry and full of wrath? they wanted to know. Well, look at the life of Christ. He healed, loved, cared, gave, taught, shared, spoke, listened, and... died. This Son of God represented His Father by sharing His light and life, and by giving life more abundant.

In the words of 2 Corinthians 5:19: "that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people's sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ's ambassadors, as though God were making His appeal through us. We implore you on Christ's behalf: Be reconciled to God. God made him who had no sin [Jesus] to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God."

All for now,

Tricia

A different point of view

Image: Watercolors and black pen

I didn't like what she was telling me. Not at all.

Her statement? "Tricia, you can't judge others by your own strengths, if they are not strong in the same traits as you."

That statement has taken me two years to fully process and understand what she was trying to say. My strength, in the conversation, had to do with being good at correspondence, in keeping in touch with family and friends. In the course of our talk, I had complained to her about a mutual friend of ours who had not kept in touch while we lived away from Texas for six years. "You should go visit her," said my friend. "She'd love to see you."

"I don't think she really cares," I said in a whiny voice. "She only emailed me once or twice while we were gone!"

If I expected sympathy, I would be sorely disappointed. But she has a point. A very good point.

How many times have I hoped that others would love me in spite of my weaknesses, in spite of the fact that my "weakness" might hurt people?

Like the times I need solitude, and someone else, say Hannah, wants to spend quality time with me. Or when a family member feels bad that our family doesn't travel much due to low or no $$, or that I go a little nuts thinking about being in the car for long stretches of time because then I'm "trapped" and cannot have the quiet I need. How do you explain that to someone else, especially when you've had another someone "rip into you" for being the way you are? Makes you draw within yourself and just stop explaining or giving reasons!

In the past year, I've had some situations where someone said or did something and I took it the wrong way. Maybe, just maybe, they were needing me to look beyond the "initial hurt" to see their point of view!

Like the time...

*** someone at Hannah's school didn't pay much attention to me when I was trying to discuss something super important to me. She was super distracted, even though she'd said it was a good time to talk. I found out later she is just someone who is easily distracted (adult ADD?), and has a difficult time keeping focused or not losing things like keys or cell phone. Instead of thinking she "didn't care," maybe I should just realize we needed to talk at a different time!

We never know when someone may feel insecure or inferior (weak) about something. Then something we say or do can trigger them to feel defensive or angry. I guess that's why the Bible cautions us to be "slow to anger." It also has lots of verses about controlling the tongue. I'm trying to learn not be to so reactive. That maybe there's a whole background story there for that person that has nothing to do with me.

And isn't learning to love, in any circumstance, what it's really all about?

Is it easy? Uh, no. Not for me anyway. But I can't give up. I won't give up. Because I'm learning from the Strongest Person I know, the most ForGiving Person I know. And I can't give up until He gives up.

Facing My Giants

Tonight my little family watched the movie Facing the Giants. It's one of the typical feel-good movies that at first glance may seem predictable and syrupy. I'm sure for many viewers, it begs the question, "Does God really care about whether we win or lose a football game?" For me, I suppose the question would be more like, "Does God really care...period?"

The last few months, hubby and I have had to face some pretty big giants ourselves. On September 27, we found out John's fulltime days at his company were numbered. Exactly the same week, we realized our car, "Ethel," needed a new transmission, costing roughly $2,000. For the past two months, we have cranked out the resumes, spent hours online for a job, any job; we have driven only to and from school, church and the store because the car shakes so badly, it rattles our teeth; and we have spent a lot of time on our knees, trying to believe, but not always succeeding.

I am proud of us that we have not given up, and for the most part are facing each day with new resolve. We've not turned on each other or cursed God.

But then, it's not really about us.

For a long time I've wished I had a better faith and to know, deep down in my gut, nothing is impossible with God--coincidentally, the mantra of the football team in the movie. I'm realizing that there is a reason Jesus said time and time again, the reason He came to earth was to "bring glory to His Father."

Up till now, have I really, truly cared about that? I don't think so. But I'm starting to get it. I realize that God may or may not provide a decent job for John. He may or may not allow us to continue to stay in the DFW area, where my beloved parents are, as I long to be near to them. But I desire to love Him anyway. I desire to follow Him, even if I don't understand His views or ways.

I've been fighting true surrender all along. But I can fight Him no longer. I will remember the words of Christ:

"So I wouldn't get a big head, I was given the gift of a handicap. Satan's angel did his best to get me down; what he in fact did was push me to my knees. No danger then of walking around high and mighty. At first I didn't think of it as a gift... and then He told me, 'My grace is enough, it's all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness.' Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap, and began appreciating the gift...Now...I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become" (2 Corinthians 12:8-10 The Message).

Oh, and the answer to that question?

Yeah, He cares. And He specializes in the impossible.

What giants are you facing today?

Hannah's dream

"And afterward, I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions.
Joel 2:27-29

The three of us went to see my mom and dad on Saturday (Sabbath). Hannah casually mentioned a dream she'd had recently: she dreamed that she was on her way to heaven, on a road. She said that Jesus told her to keep her eyes on Him, that that was the only way she'd reach heaven. She said other people were on the road with her, too, but they kept looking away from Jesus. When they did, they fell off the road. "I kept my eyeballs on him," Hannah told us in her Texan drawl. "Even after I reached heaven's gate, I kept looking at Him!"

Seventh-day Adventist Christian author, Ellen White, had a similar dream. To my knowledge, Hannah has never heard of that lady's dream. I thought Hannah's dream was very special. We have talks about God all the time. I never try to make Hannah believe there are "pat" answers for everything, and that we sometimes don't understand how God works.

I know that for most people, at some point, inevitably, God "disappoints" us. Or rather, His answers do. We don't like to hear what He has to say, sometimes. Because, like any good parent, He has to tell us "no," or "wait."

And bad things happen--boy, do they happen! I don't want Hannah to think that just because bad things happen to good people, that it means He's letting her down. The Bible is full of bad things happening to His people. But I believe in "His ways are higher than our ways, His thoughts than our thoughts." I may not always like it, but I believe. And I want her to believe--and someday go to heaven. Isn't that what it's all about?

All for now,
Tricia

That's Not Fair!

"That's not fair!" How many of us have heard someone, especially a kid, utter this phrase? (For that matter, how many adults have said it?!)

I knew from fairly early on that I only wanted one child, for a variety of reasons. John and I both agreed on this. It's worked out well for us. But most folks I know have two or more. And they deal with the "it's not fair" complaint (especially regarding sibling rivalry) on a regular basis.

We've all seen it: Child Number One receives a goody (or toys, prizes, etc.) and Child Number Two receives his own as well. Child Number One squawks because the second is given one more, or he has a different color, or the toy is bigger, and so on. Eventually mothers and fathers, to save the peace, are v-e-r-y careful in doling out the goodies. They KNOW that the children will bicker if not given treats of equal value.

How often are we adults like that? When I see Mr. So-and-so with a fancy new car, or she's oh-so-slim and I'm not? What happens when we aren't content with what God gave us? Yes, that green-eyed monster rears its ugly head, and suddenly the toy in our hand doesn't look half as good as our friend's. We compare and compare from personalities to cars to houses to spouses until it makes us sick. And we say, not so politely to God, "It's not fair!"

We especially do that with the bigger issues in life. Look at that person, he had a great childhood, why didn't I? Or: Why can't I get my finances in order, why didn't God give me more money? "Why didn't God give me ____?" we squawk. "It's not fair," we cry.

The thing is, we don't realize how much He has given us--which may be different for one person than another at any given time:

*** a lovely sunset
*** wildflowers that paint a meadow
*** clean drinking water
*** good health
*** caring friends
*** a loyal, fun-loving pet
*** snow-topped mountain peaks
*** the laughter of your own child
*** every breath we take

Maybe today, you and I will lift our voices and say to our loving God, "It's MORE than fair!"

Love Letters

Every now and then, I write love notes. To John, to Hannah, to my family and friends. And every now and then, they write me back.

When Hannah first got her Bible and a couple of times since, I've slipped a couple of love notes inside so she would find them. To my delight, Hannah reciprocated.

However, because I read about three different Bibles at any given time, I had no idea about the love notes awaiting me in my Women's devotional one. I still have no idea how long they were there, just waiting to be read; she never mentioned them. All I know is that I wish I'd read it sooner, so I could have seen these precious letters.

I wonder how often I've miss out on God's love letter, simply because I don't open His Word. I wonder if I've missed out on His loving words of encouragement, mercy and forgiveness simply because I never checked.

Notice Hannah's note on the left especially. The original is on 8.5 X 11 paper. It's hard to miss. Look at all those exclamation marks (with MY own calligraphy pen, no less! ha!). This letter NEVER fails to bring a smile to my face.

Most people have a "life verse." I never go on and on about mine, but I do have one. It's found in Jeremiah 31:3:

"The LORD appeared to us in the past, saying, 'I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness.'"

Wow. Could He be any more plain spoken? Did you feel the exclamation marks in your heart? Feel them. Know them. He's ready to tell you in person today, just how much He loves you. I pray it will bring a smile to your face--and heart--today.

All for now,
Tricia

Why is there pain and suffering?

"Sin and pain seem to prevail. Babies die of cancer. Puppies are hit on the road. Hitler rises to power. We yell at our children. The power of suffering is that great. So what, in the end, does the cross really mean? What good is an escape route, really, if it does not open until the end of time? I think that the answer, in part, is that the cross never promises to free us from pain and suffering, not at least in the present. The cross, in fact, promises just the opposite: the certainty of pain and suffering.

Here is the mystery: The path of joy runs straight through the heart of pain and suffering. Christianity, alone among the world's religions, does not run from pain but embraces it, and then and only then does it move through it. Jesus Christ is our example of faith: 'For the joy set before him enduring the cross, scorning it shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God' (Hebrews 12:2)...

Faith carries with it movement--from what we know to what we long for, from suffering to joy, from earth to heaven."

I found this devotional (written by a Deforia Lane) in my Women's Devotional Bible (NIV)

I thought this was beautiful and wanted to share. I myself don't understand pain and suffering, but maybe I don't have to. Maybe I just need to know the One who will, someday, annihilate pain forever. Amen!

Trials and Triumphs for the Williams family

Last Friday brought about yet another round of "say it isn't so!" for our little family. Poor John developed a kidney stone yet again. And when this guy has one, they aren't just "stones passing in the night" (sorry, poor pun); John goes through days of extreme pain while the doctors/technicians haggle over whether the stone is large enough for a lithotripsy, surgery, what-have-you. Why they don't ask the one suffering? I say! This is John's fifth or sixth stone--and when I see the pain on his face, I feel so bad for him.

The last few weeks and months have been particularly trying for our household. It has not been necessarily "one thing." Just an accumulation of trials that have brought us to our knees. I thought I was holding it pretty well together (with God's help), and even doing a fair job of hiding the stress.

Apparently not.

The night we came home from the ER, we were absolutely beaten down. I tried to keep up a semi-brave face for my girlie, but realize the day's events must have been written all over my--and John's--faces.

When I went into Hannah's room for love, worship and bedtime prayers, I could tell something was wrong. Fearing I'd somehow been short with her because of my exhaustion, I asked her what was wrong. At first she denied anything, but then, as I knelt down, she finally answered:

"I just feel so bad for you and Daddy," she said. Two big tears fell down her cheeks. "You guys have had the worst luck lately. Why do bad things keep happening to us? I feel like we're so alone in our problems."

My sentiments exactly. I have to admit, I'd been asking God the same thing. Oh, I don't talk about our struggles much on this blog. No matter how a person spins it, when writing about troubles in life, invariably it sounds like whining or complaining. So I haven't. Up till now.

Finances, poor health, unskilled veterinarians, breaking down cars--all spell disaster. Who wants to read about disaster? I don't!

But maybe I need to share at least a little about the troubles. Because if I share about them, I must share about the strength God gives us, the endurance, to get through each day. If I share about the financial woes, I must also give testimony to just-as-we-need-them provisions.

The same goes for health, car trouble and more. For each time something goes wrong, Someone makes sure to make something very right. An unexpected check in the mail...a better veterinarian with a less costly guinea piggy diagnosis...a mechanic who has our best interest at heart and gives rides home again and again when we face the prospect of extreme heat beating us down on a long walk home.

Problems? Oh me, oh my! More than I care to admit. But for every problem, God has given us a solution. For every time our bank account is running precariously low, God has sent food, money, or work--just when we need them most.

So how did I answer my precious lamb?

Thinking of the ever-possible teachable moments (only by His help), I told her that the Devil is very real. He doesn't like it when we are following after God, when we are trying to obey His will. We read from her Bible that Satan is depicted in the book of Peter as a "roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour" (1 Peter 5:8, 9). The text goes on to say, "Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings..."

In comforting Hannah, I could not deny the comfort my heavenly Father provides me, day in, day out. Through His Bible, through a friend, or a sermon, He reveals His truth of "I will never leave you nor forsake you" again and again.

I praise Him. I love Him. I share my testimony in love.

Tricia

p.s. John goes to his urologist Wednesday. If the doctor does not reach a firm decision on his own, I will personally wrestle the man down to the ground and "help" him reach a decision in great haste! ha!

Messy houses and other matters (devotional)

My house is a mess. I’m talking total destruction here. Even though I have good help from my husband, I still cannot keep up with the clutter, with overflowing wastebaskets, with clothes strewn about haphazardly in my tween daughter’s room, and the ever-increasing pile of mail to sort through.

The mess bothers me to no end. Now, granted, I have a great excuse for my untidiness—recovery from surgery. Bless my doctor, she told me—no, make that ORDERED me—to take it easy, to not lift anything more than 20 lbs., and to just let my body heal. So for now, I have a terrific excuse for a filthy house.

But what about two months ago? Or two years ago? When my house looked (almost) as disorganized back then, what excuse could I have given? None. Even though the filth, grime and clutter exasperates me, I don’t seem to be able to really tackle it. I wince at the not-so-tiny dust bunnies that cohabitate with our bunny slippers under the bed. I realized that my housekeeping skills could be compared to my life as a child of God. Even though the filth and emotional or “spiritual clutter” bothers me, I’ve never really conquered it once and for all.

The good news? I don’t have to conquer the mess—Jesus already has. He has cleaned up my life and even helps maintain that order every day, if I am willing. And boy, am I! As He says in Isaiah, “…Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool (Isaiah 1:18). In this verse, it’s like He’s bringing out the big guns: Mr. Clean, Clorox, 409, and every other available household cleaning product, to completely rid the dirt and grime in my life.

That said, I’m not trying to make light of His suffering on the cross. Really, God doesn’t have to supply cleaning materials; He IS the ultimate source of clean, of purity, of sanctity. That’s if I let Him in. I can’t expect Him to wash the windows of my soul, if I haven’t opened the door when He knocks.

So there you have it. That’s the way it is with God and me. Even though I may work at “being good,” I can’t ever get my life, my heart, truly clean without His help. Who knows? With God helping keep my heart pure, I can devote a little bit more effort to creating an always-ready-for-guests house. OK, now… where did I put that phone number for the Merry Maids services?

Tricia

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Pictured above is my childhood home in Oklahoma City, OK.

No More Pity Parties by Tricia Williams

No more pity parties for myself. That’s what I determined when my friend, and pastor, Gayle told this story at our women’s Bible study last week:

Recently Gayle had gone to visit and pray with a family who lost their three-year-old daughter to a tragic accident. While they were talking, the mother of that girl said they were letting a friend stay at their home for a while, that he was going through a difficult divorce. She looked at Gayle and said, “I just feel so bad for him. Don’t you feel so sorry for those people for whom bad things keep happening to them?”

Gayle swallowed hard and looked at this woman full in the face. Sure enough, the woman meant what she said about her guest. And yet, as Gayle said to us in awe, “she didn’t see herself in that category! She had just lost her precious baby girl, and yet still had empathy, compassion and concern for another hurting person. I was awestruck.”

I’ve thought a lot about this exchange the last several days. I think about my friend who is going through treatments for cancer. I think about the young mother who is struggling with a debilitating post-partum depression. I think about another Bible study member of my group who, as a senior citizen, works at her job of manual labor while two troubled knees make it difficult to walk, and is in pain throughout most of her days.

Could I have that sort of care and concern for others? Do I live my life with determination to make someone else’s day a little sweeter or less difficult, with a smile or a kind word? I hope so. My recent surgery was a wakeup call in my life. I didn’t like feeling dependent on other people for driving or carrying things. Feeling weak and helpless, I became discouraged. I think about those for whom this is a way of life, those in chronic pain, or who have a terminal illness. Where is their hope? Where can they find joy?

The same place I can—the same place you can: in Jesus. As a child, I used to sing “The joy of the Lord is my strength,” but never really understood the truth in that simple statement. If I can have real joy, even in the storms of life, it’s because of Him. He makes it so. He also provides the empathy in our hearts to care for one another if we ourselves are feeling low.

He reaches down and lifts us up. And as He is our example, I must learn to do the same. So this week, month, this year, I will reach out to others—a phone call, a card, a quick hug and a prayer—and share with them the joy of the Lord, so that it might be their strength too.

Can living in exile be good?

John gave me a Max Lucado Bible several years ago and I use it off and on with another Bible or two. One reason I like it is because it has lots of mini-devotionals along the sides and in special inserts.

Tonight we read in Ezra about the captives that returned from Babylon and began to rebuild the Temple, and all the opposition they met with as a result of the rebuilding. I have to admit, I'd never read Ezra before. But it's been very interesting.

Anyway, I'd like to share one of those little devotionals here:

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The exile was the "crucible of Israel's faith." They were pushed to the edge of existence where they thought they were hanging on by the skin of their teeth, and they found that in fact they had been pushed to the center, where God was.

They experienced not bare survival, but abundant life. Now they saw their previous life as subsistence living, a marginal existence absorbed in consumption and fashion, empty ritual and insensitive exploitation...

It keeps on happening. Exile is the worst that reveals the best. "It's hard believing," says Faulkner, "but disaster seems to be good for people."...All of us are given moments, days, months, years of exile. What will we do with them? Wish we were someplace else? Complain? Escape into fantasies?... Or build and plant and marry and seek the shalom of the place we inhabit and the people we are with?

Exile reveals what really matters and frees us to pursue what really matters and frees us to pursue what really matters, which is to seek the Lord with all our hearts.
From Run with the Horses by Eugene Peterson

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This really made me think. A bit heavy, but really powerful as well.

God's blessings to you...

(I took this photo of some ruins at Pecos National Park in New Mexico in Nov. 2005)