Clothe Me in Faith

And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. 

They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today 

and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, 

will he not much more clothe you—

you of little faith? 

Matthew 6:28-30

I have an interview today - for a new kind of position.  I have been preparing - reading up on policy and procedure, reminding myself of the technical vocabulary, asking myself practice questions, evaluating my strengths and weaknesses.  I want to be ready and I can't seem to stop thinking about everything.  Thinking - read worrying.

So, at the same time, I decided to take my camera around the yard yesterday.  I've just hung some photographs in my dining room and I have some planned spaces for a couple more pictures.  Green pictures.  

God is good.  I am putting my interview and job-search in His hands - again.  It is something I do on a regular basis.  Lord, I believe.  Help me in my unbelief.  In the meantime, here's my thoughts.  Jesus used the beauty of the flowers and grass to demonstrate how God takes care of us...even our clothes.  The common greenery I found around my home is more splendid than Solomon.  And it's not even the flowers of the field!  So, how much more will he clothe me....

Thought I'd share....

Oh God, thank you for the reminder of Your love, and Your care and Your blessings.  Clothe me in faith.  Help me to be a blessing to others. 

#TellHisStory: Eyes That See, Ears That Hear

But blessed are your eyes because they see, and your ears because they hear.  For I tell you the truth, many prophets and righteous men longed to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it.

Matthew 13:16-17

Fern was a master storyteller.  A game of adventure with her was like becoming a character in a play, and watching it all at the same time.  Her voice was her instrument, sonorous and deep, reminding me of thick, golden honey flowing over bread.  Her imagination was our script.  She created visions of butterflies darting among flowers with her whisper, and the clash of sword against shield with her shout.  She could roar like a spring flood, and murmur like the hint of a breeze on the still water of a pond.

Adventures always started when Fern told us to close our eyes tightly and hold hands.  We were never, never to break the magic circle of hands on our journeys.  She took us to many other lands, wielding her imagination like a sorceress, her voice like a giant of old.  Land of the Purple Castle, the Kingdom of the Blue Queen, Dragon Mountain, and Village of the Green Fairies... my sister and I watched and participated in dramas and activities directed by Fern who was always our hostess and guide.  A circle of mushrooms, used by the fairies to dance under a full moon, a solitary blue flower in the midst of yellow ones, used by the Blue Queen’s daughter to signal to her lover, circular patches of brown grass created by dragon celebrations; everything had meaning according to the adventure.  

She took us beyond Wonderland, beyond any book or story.  She made us believe, oftentimes quoting entire passages from the books she had read; she made our imaginations soar.  She wove us into a magic spell, transporting us safely to our destination.  Did we truly go somewhere else?  Probably not.  But upon opening our eyes, the world always seemed a little different, skewed to unearthly spectrums of color and sound perhaps.  The greatest joy was in the possibilities awaiting us at every turn, possibilities of enchantment and magic that we had only experienced whispers of in our ordinary lives.

And years later, I still believe in enchantment and magic - of a different kind.  There is a book full of incredible stories, full of poetry, full of Glory.  I never get tired of reading about the Kings and Queens, about the prophets who foretold the future.  I allow my mind to imagine a pillar of smoke, a pillar of fire, the parting of a great sea;  I picture a great temple, covered in gold and precious stones.  I see a man - a savior of nations - telling stories, eating bread - a man with dusty sandals.  I hear his laughter; I hear his prayers; I hear his grief.  I close my eyes and feel him in my heart, and upon opening them, the world always seems a little different, skewed to unearthly spectrums of color and sound.  I have only to believe. 

We have been given ears to hear.  We have been given eyes to see.  We have met our master storyteller, host, guide, and director.  His name is Jesus and He is our greatest joy.  

Heavenly Father, God of the Universe, thank you for Jesus.

Linking with TellHisStory

Love That Coat

For by your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned.

Matthew 12:37

"It's the Redskins, now."

My daughter was sitting at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around her coffee cup, hair in morning waves.

"My team.  It's Redskins, now."

The news was on - as always - I'm not one for missing the weather report in the morning.  My husband had just left for post - no rain in the forecast - so he rode his bike in.  She had already come over to my chair and wrapped her arms around me for my morning hug - now we were sharing coffee time.

"Redskins?" I asked.  "What about the Cowboys?  I thought you liked the Dallas Cowboys."

In the five years we lived in Texas, my daughter had become a staunch fan of America's Sweetheart team.  That suited me fine.  They were featured on the weekly game schedule, so they were easy to watch and follow, and stores always carried the sports paraphernalia to give her for birthdays and Christmases.  In fact, just last  season, we'd found the perfect 'letterman' coat - with the championship year patches sewn up the sleeves, and the signature star emblazoned on the back.  She loved that coat.

Past tense?

"No, Washington.  Remember.  It's the Redskins.  Our house."

Oh!  I don't know why I get surprised by my daughter's thinking - but I do.  When we lived in Tennessee, her team was the Titans.  I'd forgotten how geographical she was.  Probably because we'd been in Texas so long.  But, sometime over the summer, she had discovered that the Washington Redskins were the closest team to us.  And she was making the change.

Her birthday was coming up - probably a good time to begin stocking her up with red and gold...  But, what in the world were we going to do with all of the blue and white - the various jerseys, the pants and t-shirts, her Cowboys coat...  I didn't say anything.

So later, she surprised me when she came down dressed.  In a Dallas Cowboy's t-shirt.  She showed me.  "See," she said, rubbing the hemmed edge of the shirt on the shorts, "It's Dallas," she said. "Color is blue," she said.  "Match."

Yup.

She went over to the refrigerator where we keep our menu of the week's dinners.  "It's spaghetti tonight."  She looked over to make sure I was paying attention.  "My favorite."

I had to laugh.  See, everything is her favorite.  Spaghetti, brats, chicken and rice.  Everything.

Yup.

Do you remember when you were young and learning your way around social skills and relationships.  Remember best friends, and favorites?  Remember those situations when you couldn't be friends with one if you were friends with the other...  Remember having to choose a favorite?  Competition.  Always one.  To the exclusion of all others.

Take the competition of shows like American Idol, or The Voice - even Big Brother, Amazing Race, etc.  There is one winner.  One person comes out on top - even if they're all good to start with.  Even if they all do something or several things well.  One.  To the exclusion of all others.

Think about the news and politics and issues like immigration and gun control - issues that cause division.  Even our political parties.  Democrat OR Republican.  Either.  Or.  Never a compromise.  One answer only.  To the exclusion of all others.

But it doesn't always have to be that way.  We don't have to always compare everything.  We don't always have to choose the best, the fastest, the most correct.  Every time we make a choice of better - we also make a choice of worse.   Imagine a world without that.  Imagine taking away the argument, the for and against, and finding the relationship - the commonality. Imagine not making the comparison - black and white - but finding the joy in the mix.  My daughter is constantly teaching me new ways of looking at life.  Everyday.  She's found a way to wear both teams.  They're all her favorite.  My guess is she'll still love that coat.

Father God, thank you for this day.  Help me to be an encourager.  Help me to think positively.  Help me to make good decisions based on complete information.

I'll Write Tomorrow

 The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For out of the overflow of his heart his mouth speaks.

Luke 6:45

I'll Write Tomorrow

I'm getting nowhere

with my afternoon writing

I'm trying too hard.

Maybe I should stop.

Fingers pause on the keyboard

Screen saver comes up.

I hear a movie,

In the den.  My family is

there. All together.

Gently with eyes closed

Breathing in, breathing out, I

Push the keyboard back.

Oh God, sometimes I

Can't see the forest for the

Trees.  Thanks for this day.

God, hard lessons - sometimes we have to let go...sometimes - we just need to take the time given us to spend together.  It is good.  Thank you.

Joy is Enough

The student is not above the teacher, nor a servant above his master.  It is enough for students to be like their teachers, and servants like their masters. If the head of the house has been called Beelzebul, how much more the members of his household!

So do not be afraid of them, for there is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known.  What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs.  Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell.  Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.  And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered.  So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

Matthew 10:24-31

I heard it in my sleep last night.  Over and over.  It is enough.  It is enough.  Like an echo lost in a dream I can't remember.  

So I looked for it.  That phrase.  I looked in the events of the past day - a wonderful day of joy and fellowship - a youth outing to the beach.  No.  It wasn't the activities of the day.

I looked at the events of the day.  Relationship.  The acceptance my daughter received from the group we were with.  The sometimes difficult job of guiding her behavior with them.  Yes, I'd said "That's enough," to my girl - enough waiting to be the center of attention, enough emotional manipulation, enough social poor-me.  But no, that wasn't my dream.  It is enough.

I looked at the summer.  The move.  The vacation.  The budget.  My I-don't-have-a-job-yet situation.  Maybe.  Maybe it's enough worrying.  After all, we are in our Father's care.  Maybe it's enough with the twinges of gotta-do's, and our never-ending list of home-improvement projects.  

I looked at my writing.  Maybe it's this blog; it has been consuming my thoughts with topic, tone, readership, comments, and future plans.  Can I turn my writing into a job?  Is it good enough?  What do I do; how do I start?  Is that the purpose of my posts - to make money?  To earn a living?  To find joy and share?

I opened my concordance.  It is enough.  Right there in Matthew.  Oh my!  And it's about teachers and students and speaking and proclaiming.  It even reminds me of how well and how much God cares for each of us - even me.  So there is the answer to all of my maybes.  The job applications will stay open - something will come because I am in my Father's care.  The house is enough.  It has been made home.  The blog will continue because I need to speak in the daylight and proclaim from the roofs what is whispered to me in the dark.  No fear.  Jesus was not Lord of the Flies;  He was Lord of Joy.  I will continue to seek joy in the everydays and ordinarys around me.  Joy is my path; joy is enough.

Father, thank you for life.  Help me to find your joy everyday.