The Caretaker

You may have gathered from previous posts that I spent the past weekend at a retreat. As the Director of Women's Ministries at my church, I did much of the planning for the retreat, including securing a location. Since I try to keep the costs of the retreat to a minimum, I was blessed when a dear friend offered the use of her spacious home for our event, and I gladly accepted.

Twenty-six of us took in their view, hiked on their land, cooked in their kitchen, ate at their tables, and lounged in their living room. We felt like we had a little taste of heaven.

The owners of the house vacated for most of the weekend--totally giving up their lovely home for us. There was a time, however, when the man of the house stopped in. He was quietly making his way to his room, when someone said to him, "Thank you so much for letting us enjoy your wonderful home."

He smiled and gently replied, "It's God's house. I'm just the caretaker."

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Full

A couple of weeks ago Graham ordered a one-pound hamburger with a side of fries. He ate the whole thing, and then had a pineapple milkshake for dessert.

Graham has a huge appetite and a non-stop metabolism, but for once in his life--for a brief, shining moment--he was full.

Today I feel full. I had a weekend that was loaded with all of my favorites, and I am not just talking about food.

The women with whom I spent the weekend are awesome women of God, and I was blessed to learn from them, laugh with them, and be loved by them.

My mother-in-law came from Montana to hang out with us and to teach one session at the retreat. She was such a gift to all, with her joyful participation, her wise inspiration, and her hilarious competition--a bubble blowing contest.

Other women taught and led and prayed and cooked and hiked and played and blessed and gave. We were all anointed...commissioned for another year of serving the Lord in ministry.

I have an almost insatiable appetite for friends and Jesus...but for one brief, shining moment, I, too, am full.

Then again, I might still have room for a milkshake.

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No Time to Blog

No time to blog today--or for the rest of the week, for that matter! After taking three unexpected days off last week (thanks to the flu) I am now "struggling with all His energy which so powerfully works within me" (Col.1:29) to get prepared to speak at a retreat this weekend for the women leaders at my church.

But if I did have time to blog, I would be sure to tell you about how I am falling in love all over again with my Jesus. He is so good to me, because as most of you know:

If I had time to blog I would tell you all about the Dear Abby column that I read over 20 years ago that got me thinking about being God's favorite, and convinced me that indeed, I am.

I hope you know that you are His favorite, too!

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Charlie Who?

I have new addiction: licorice. Black Licorice--which I used to hate--is the sweet I am seeking more often than any other. I love the really good stuff, but it is hard to find, so more often than not, I settle for Good & Plenty.

Every time I buy Good & Plenty I begin to sing a song from an old Good & Plenty advertisement. I have absolutely NO memory of the commercial itself, I learned the jingle from my sister, Keri. Nevertheless, like most jingles, it is well cemented in my mind and really rather catchy.

My family is a little bit sick of me and my jingle-singing, particulary because I can't tell them who Charlie is. I sing the jingle like this: (keep in mind I have a gift for messing up lyrics)

Charlie says, "Love my Good & Plenty"

Charlie says, "Really rings a bell!"

Charlie says, "Love my Good & Plenty"

And I never met a candy that I love so well.

So do any of you know who this Charlie is?

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7 Things (or maybe 17)

I was tagged in my friend Sharon's Blog to participate in the 7 Things I Love game. I am delighted to take part! For the past two days I have been sick in bed, and all my creativity has been sucked out of me and replaced by snot. I needed a blogging inspiration, and now I have just that.

But perhaps we should all agree to the caveat that this is a list of 7 Things that I Love while tripped out on cold medicine. Just in case I write something weird. Which wouldn't really be all that weird for me, since weird is sort of my normal. Maybe the real fear is that I would write something normal. Anyway, here it goes:

7 Things that I Love:

1. Vegetarian Miracle Hair Conditioner. (I don't like that it comes in a tub because it gets under my fingernails when I scoop it out, but I suppose it is too thick for a bottle, and its thick consistency is probably the thing that makes it such a great conditioner in the first place.)
2. The smell of wheat at harvest time. All of Spangle smells musty and earthy this time of year, and I love to throw open all the windows and drink it in.(However, having opened windows at harvest results in a house where every surface is covered with about a quarter inch of dust from the fields. I am thinking of leaving it and just planting an indoor garden for winter.)
3. Bird nests--real ones from my yard. I have three of them sitting on my shelf of treasures. They go well with my decorating scheme, which pretty much revolves around dirt, sticks, rocks, and rust.
4. Books. Almost any book. And I prefer to read three or four at a time. Well, I mean not at exactly the same time, that would be crazy, but like, I typically am in the process of reading many different books on any given day. For instance, right now I have bookmarks in The Islands of Divine Music by John Addiego, The Seven Mountain Prophecy by Johnny Enlow, and Too Small Ignore by Wes Stafford.
5. Roller Coasters, or anything fast for that matter. Downhill skiing, water skiing, German sports cars, hydroplanes, the Blue Angels, and sitting behind David on a motorcycle.
6. Clean ears. Its a crazy but lasting obsession with me. I should seriously buy stock in Q-Tips.
7. Silence in all its forms: The hush of an audience just after the orchestra tunes, but before the curtain rises; the stillness of morning when everyone but me is sleeping; the pregnant pause before a great punchline; the weighty anticipation of an answer to a life changing question; the peaceful quiet of a heart at rest.
8. Can one love too many things? I had to add one more because I forgot to say, "Jesus" who is always the RIGHT answer. He is the giver of all good gifts, the lover of my soul, the joy of my life. So even though He is number 8 on this list, He is number 1 in my heart. But since I am sick I am not going to start over. But if I did start over I might add David, Graham and Chandler in there somewhere, too. Really, maybe this should be 17 Things I Love. Then I could add cucumber-scented candles, guitar-playing boys, designer purses, wooden toys, garden veggies, and people who read my blog. Too cheesy? Chalk it up to the cold medicine.

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What's Up, Chan?

For Graham and Chandler, school is dismissed at 3:15 p.m. Everyday at precisely 3:17, Graham bounds out the door, homework tucked neatly under his right arm. He climbs in the car, buckles his seat belt, and begins to surf the radio waves for a song he likes.

And we wait.

Five minutes tick away. Then ten. Sometimes we hit fifteen.

Eventually...finally...Chandler awkwardly emerges from the school. He backs out, pushing the door open with his rump. Both arms are stretched out front, palms up, loaded with an unkempt pile of binders, text books, and wrinkled papers. His lunchbox acts as a paperweight, teetering atop the leaning tower of school supplies, while more often than not, a pencil or pen is clenched in his teeth.

When he gets to the car, he must juggle everything to find a hand with which to open the door. After he gets in the car he must again shift his heaping mass of educational paraphernalia in order to buckle his seat belt.

By the time I pull away from the curb, grass has grown under my tires.

Every day I ask Graham,"Where is Chandler?" "What is he doing?" "Why is it taking him so long."

Graham shrugs, changes the radio station for the 18th time and says, "I'm hungry."

Since it appears that Chandler merely scoops up the entire contents of his locker and heads for home, I cannot, for the life of me, figure out why it takes him five times as long as his brother to get from the classroom to the car.

In his defense, Chandler always has everything he needs to complete his homework, never misses an assignment, and gets amazing grades--even if the stuff he turns in looks like it has been through a war, run over by a semi, and put through the washing machine.

I have two words for you: Abstract Random!

As I am typing, Graham and David are attempting to enlighten Chandler in the fine art of structural engineering as it applies to homework transportation techniques. They are explaining (with great detail) that smaller items should be stacked on larger items, while loose papers should be secured within folders and/or binders. Chandler is trying to follow their instructions, but it is almost as if they are speaking Greek to him.

And yes, he does own a backpack. Apparently, such utilitarian accessories are not cool enough for junior highers to tote. I can only imagine that if Chandler saw how debonair (not!) that he looks using his method, a backpack would suddenly appear cooler than a texting teen high on Red Bull.

We love our Chandler, who having heard me read the previous paragraph aloud, has now found his backpack and is loading it with his things. The only thing is, I am not sure that adding an element, even one as practical as a backpack, will speed-up the after school departure process.

We shall see.

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Okay, Seriously, I AM FINE!

I ran into a few friends today. Each one looked at me with sympathetic eyes, tilted her head, and asked "How are you doing?" as if she were certain that I was about to burst into tears.

I actually had a hard time convincing them that I was okay, because, you know, they read my blog.

Now I realize that I have not exactly been all sunshine and roses around here lately, but I hope I have not been "doom and gloom" either.

Would you rather I kept the hard stuff to myself? Because I could do that. I still own a leather-bound journal and a pen, so I could just pour my heart out on paper, like I did in the past, and spare you the details.

The truth is, it has been a rough couple of weeks. We have been challenged in new ways, stretched in new directions, and pushed beyond our limits. And I tend to tell it like it is.

But our faith is strong, our hearts are encouraged, and our God is big. We have hope and peace in the midst of it. That doesn't make everything easy, but it means that even when things are hard, we are okay. We are all right in the depths of our beings, where we know that our lives are resting securely in the hands of a very capable God.

Here's the thing...for me, things can be HARD and HAPPY all at the same time. I actually find joy in the journey, even the uphill, stormy, wind-in-your-face parts of the journey. I like a challenge. However, by definition, a challenge is HARD.

Pray for us. Cheer us on. Relate your stories of victory and defeat. Declare the goodness of God. Thank Him for what He is doing IN us and FOR us and THROUGH us.

But in the words of the famous Evita, "Don't cry for me, Argentina!"

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