Category: Devotions

It all began the summer before. It must have been a sermon at church or something like that which began the thought process in my  mind that I needed to make a commitment to God.  I loved Bible Camp. I decided that I would wait till Bible camp to be baptized. Not sure that was a good way to make a decision, but that was in my heart. I remember well that year of camp. My father loved camps and started Whitewater Bible Camp I think in 1966. Every year before school would begin lots of kids would gather at the camp and spend a week. Classes, sermons, singing, playing ball, volleyball, meeting new friends, memorizing, plays, skits, and lots of standing straight for tribe judging.

It was a Thursday night- Don Jessup was preaching. I’m not sure if I wanted to go to heaven or just wanted to avoid hell; either way, I wanted to follow Jesus. I remember sitting by my friend Julie, and we both went. Her father baptized a whole bunch of kids that night. The song was, “Lord I’m coming home”. It was a cool night in August, the stream was running swiftly and we hiked down past the boys dorms through the woods to a place deep enough to baptize. It was cold, but I didn’t feel the cold. It was scary but I wasn’t scared. I knew this was something God wanted me to do, the Bible told me to do and I was ready. I had no idea of what living for Christ really meant but that’s pretty typical when we make decisions. We really don’t know what’s in store, we just know it’s the right decision. What I remember more than the cold water, the rocks under my feet and the strong hands of those helping was when I came out I felt so clean, so different and so happy. I felt like crying, screaming and laughing all at the same time. I remember shaking with the cold but feeling so different.

As I stood by the river on the bridge the other day as we went hiking at Whitewater State Park and looked at the old group campgrounds, lots of memories came right back to the heart.  And many years, almost half a century, has passed and would I change that one moment in time? Would I go back to that ten year old’s heart an do it over? I would in a second.  I have walked many miles since taking that step into the chilly waters of Whitewater River. I have stepped over logs I should have walked around. I have fallen over rocks I should have seen. I have gone the long way rather than taking the simple path. I have seen births, deaths and lots of tears in between. And yet, most of what God wants of me is to simply keep the faith of that 10 year old little girl who just wanted to obey. In many ways I still feel like that little girl. In many ways I would love to go back to the singing, the praise and worship around the campfire, the skits, the plays, the  bonding with people who have become some of my closest friends. That in itself is what has made my faith walk meaningful.  The worship today is different; I don’t relate. People don’t seek out relationships with people as much and we all seem too busy to stop and sit and talk. I did that the other day. Sat and talked with friends all afternoon. When I left, I felt ridiculously refreshed! Why don’t I do that more often? The busyness of life gets us sidetracked from the moments of simply being a friend, loving and mentoring. We are, in most aspects, all 10 year old kids with the faith to move mountains but find ourselves in adult bodies with big problems and too busy to just sit by the fire and sing, “Pass it on.”  We can never go back again, but sometimes, it’s a really neat thing to let our minds go back and enjoy the moments of our past. To be a kid once again. To smell the campfire. To get our tray of food and pull down the lever of the “all you can drink milk machine” and fill the glass to the very top. To sit down and eat with friends and laugh. To share our heart around  the picnic table and line up from shortest to tallest and stand real still.   And it all began the summer before when I began to think that Jesus needed to be a big part of my life.

It was late at night. I had been gone for almost a week. My friend had passed away and we had a vacation planned; of course all at the same time. I just hopped a plane, well actually 2 planes and a fogged in Chicago, and saw Houston before I saw Atlanta. Coming home, it was a clear night and one could watch the ground; slightly. What amazed me was the lights. With some snow cover, it’s interesting to watch the ground appearance change. From the darkness of dirt, to the gradual snow and then total snow cover. And then, there was an interesting round glow. It took me a bit to figure out what it was; it was a round-a-bout. In Minnesota, they are relatively new to us.  It’s amusing at the same time humbling if you get into a round-a-bout and can’t get off. It’s scary if you are behind an older person who has never gone through one. It’s frightening if you watch a semi drive right over the middle instead of go around. It’s rewarding when you get to where you are going and exit right.  Round-a-bouts are all about life. God uses round-a-bouts to remind us that even when we are going in circles, he has a reason for the seeming madness. When all is at loss and you see semi’s coming at you, God made the humps in life to remind me to get our eyes off ourselves and look to him. So we could learn lots of lessons just by analyzing them but the beauty is when we look at them from above. As we flew into the greater Mpls area there was a beautiful haze of light and then one could see the round circle. It was kind of like a donut on the ground; and I don’t even think of donuts on a hourly basis like some of my family. It was peaceful, beautiful and very gentle appearing. On the ground, it may seem like a confusing time, chaotic as you try to figure out which of the exits you need and watch the merging traffic all the while keeping an eye out for grandma who has no clue where she is or what she is doing. But from above, from God’s perspective, it’s peaceful. God uses round-a-bouts in life to get our attention down here. From his perspective, it’s beautiful and peaceful. Perhaps when we get bent out of shape about something that’s happening we should get above the problem, get about the round-a-bout we find ourselves going in circles over, and see life from God’s point of view…  Even in the dark of night, things that drive us to our knees can be beautiful when we see it from eternity’s point of view.

  So it’s that time of year. Actually its the fifth season in Minnesota; its the mud season. We don’t even bother to clean the floors.  Why? One dog walking in… forget one dog, us walking in and that 3 x 5′ mat is useless. I forget mud season in the middle of June. I don’t remember it well in August. It’s just a faint memory in December but when March comes rolling around and the snow begins to melt, I remember. It’s that time of year. So it’s also that time of year in other things in life. March 1992: that time of year. They call it a silent sorority. It used to be more hushed but with our ways of counseling and dealing with issues, it’s becoming more and more of a topic people understand how to share and share as an encouragement not necessarily as a burden.

March 1992 we had a baby. March 1992 we held him while he died. It’s that time of year. It’s not like it was in 1993, and it is almost like a moment you kind of remember but so much time has passed and then again, I can go back in a heartbeat.

What did I learn in 1992? What did I learn about God, about myself, about life, about people, about the church, about coping skills of our world in general?  I learned that God was in that room with me and spoke to me in the elevator. No one else heard him, but I couldn’t miss the voice. I learned that how I process things is with music (no shock there) and sometimes just for myself was all I needed to sit and play. I learned that people don’t know what to say. They mean well but they say the dumbest things at the most inopportune times. One lady patted my belly (while still very pregnant) and said, “oh you can always have another baby”.  We knew he wouldn’t live if he was born alive, but when you are 8 months pregnant, being pregnant again isn’t the most comforting thought in your mind. I learned people didn’t know what to do so they avoided me. I didn’t have a plague, I was only pregnant with a crisis pregnancy. It was not contagious. There were a few that didn’t know what to do so they just hugged me. And it didn’t hurt them.  We both felt better. Sometimes when you don’t know what to say, don’t talk! Just love.

I learned the church isn’t prepared for what to do when people hurt. One leader was beyond loving. The rest just kind of pretended nothing happened and I went from 80 mph to standing still without a stop sign and that was normal. They moved on with life as if nothing happened.

I also learned that the people you find that walk the valleys you have walked, breath the same air. I since have had the honor of saying to a young mother who has buried her child, “I have been down the same road. Maybe not as far as you, and maybe not that fast, but I know the road.”   God is faithful; I have more faith now in the God that created a little baby just for my chance to hear God speak. I hold tighter to the hope of heaven. I hug someone who is walking on the ramp heading for that road knowing that God will give them the strength for the next step and when they reach their exit off that road, their faith in God will have multiplied so much they can’t explain it either.

And I will party. We still, 26 years later, have a birthday cake and a party. I still look at the picture of two very young people holding a tiny beautiful baby so delicate and yet so perfect except… The exceptions in life is what God uses to form our spiritual vases that the flowers he gives us will hold. I have been given some beautiful flowers.. The vase that was formed when we walked that valley, I wouldn’t trade for anything. It makes the other flowers in life more beautiful.

Yes, it’s that time of year… and I can smile and laugh and almost enjoy the calories of the cake because God let me have a piece of heaven….on earth for time.

They could do this for hours. The two big ones of course, but then again the small one would be in the middle of it. She usually is the one who starts it. Tug of War. Pulling on things. Trying to go forward and backwards at the same time. Playing? Maybe or maybe not. Seems in my life that’s all I do some days. I am pulling one way, walking another, tugging a third way and the forces I am pulling against are pulling me still another way. And, like the small dog, some people around me just initiate it and then back off and watch the fight. And like the middle dog, sometimes lying down just feels better. You can’t pull much when you are lying down, but there is something about taking a breather that gives you some kind of energy to move ahead. God doesn’t want me playing tug of war all the time. He would rather have me look around and find something worth tugging for. Most of the things I fight for aren’t worth the fight. Fighting, talking, debating does increase our knowledge of what we believe but often the way we do it hurts the other people so we really didn’t accomplish much except go in a circle and get a sore neck. What happened to love? What happened to just playing tug  and not put the war part in? What part of tug is the good part and leaving the war out would make us still love each other as we are walking down here in life. Just like the dogs play tug because they love to play, sometimes we need to debate and discuss.  But there are times it becomes war and that’s when we need to step back and write in the sand like Jesus did. Ask for water at the well of a women not accepted and love and listen to her.  Look for ways today you can play tug and omit the war. And smile during the tug. Love during the tug. Giggle during the tug and then go out to lunch. Challenge someone in their faith walk and love them with open hearts and empty hands. Expect nothing but God to show up in the middle and bless both of you.  And then give two dogs a toy and watch a real tug of war….

One hopes for spring. One dreams for brighter days of sunshine and flowers blooming. We were a bit spoiled going south for a few days. In Georgia, it was a beautiful day. The clouds only teared up at the end of the cemetery time and that was totally appropriate. Then in Charlotte, we were watching them plant flowers and I even got down and smelled a daffodil or two.

Then reality- Minnesota. This morning it was one of those, not again mornings. Rain, sleet, hail, wind, cold, cloudy and all around “yucky” day. We need them to bring spring about, but this has been a long winter and well, to be honest, I don’t want another “No,not again” day.

In our faith walk we have days that we giggle all day. Days were people open the door, people hug us, the minister actually preaches a sermon that makes us feel like we are more than conquerors, the band is good and the music we know. We buy  a stranger lunch, we take the dog for a walk and watch our favorite movie. We go to bed at night thinking life can’t get any better.

And then we wake up to “no, not again”. The winds are blowing, people are hurting our heart, the leaders who are supposed to build us up, tear us down, we can’t find our hope, our joy ran out the door and then we get one of those phone calls… or rather in our culture it’s an e-mail.

No, not again days make you want to quit. It’s the days that Southwest airlines reminds us that we all want to “get away” and they have the perfect place and a good price.

Jesus reminds us that there will be days like these. Of course people have written songs about those days. Psalms 30:5  “For his anger endureth for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. ”  Remember, there is always a morning after midnight. When it’s so dark you can’t see, so thick you can’t breath and so cold you shiver, God is still there and is waiting to bring the sunrise and make you marvel. Sometimes we don’t see it for awhile but the morning does come and it’s not windy, cloudy, cold and chilly.  Sometimes God allows the morning to be another one of those “no, not again” days but then he brings in someone to remind you of the hope which lies within. Or God will bring to mind a verse that gives you the energy for one more step. There are times when “no, not again” is just a bad day. There are times when “no, not again” is enough to send you over the cliff. “No, not again” days are when we need to grab hold of God and don’t let go regardless of how tired our fingers are.

It’s just another day; a day of plans and of things that need to be done. A day of preparing for tomorrow, a day of recovering from the weekend. A day that reminds me of those to pray for on the fridge dry erase prayer list, and the children we sponsor in other parts of the world. It’s a day to reflect, a day to anticipate and a day to look out the window and wonder how bad this storm will be and will the weathermen have it right or are they 50 miles off and we get either nothing or really dumped on?

Either way, I can choose to take a “no, not again” day and make it a day to enjoy and grow in God not gripe and be grumpy.