That is me…going round and round and round. Flying, suspended, arms and legs dangling, really not sure when or where she will land. Daring to ask God the difficult questions. There is no way to “church up” this blog.
Reader caution advised: If you are uncomfortable with questioning the Christian status quo or with God being placed in the line of fire…just. stop. reading.
Why all the rants lately? Take it down a notch. Boy, she’s really got a bee in her bonnet.
My italicized words in my blog are often delivered in my head in the voice of Jim Gaffigan. Actually not Jim…but Jim’s high pitched disapproving voice of someone questioning the bizarre things he comments on like cake or hot pockets. Feel free to read from here forward in this way. My blog will be funnier and surprisingly, make more sense. .
I woke up at sunrise. While it was still quiet, with coffee in hand, I slipped out onto the deck of a friend’s beach home. I have set aside this time each morning for the past 20 years. It has become habit. The sound of the raging waves was intoxicating. Rhythmic. The beach, the ocean IS my happy place.
I sat and looked out over the the depths. So vast. All emcompassing.
I searched the waves (as I always do) looking for something. I am always looking for dolphins. They inhabit my happy place and bring more happy.
This morning I search, certain to see nothing, just as in my heart I feel nothing.
Not sure where this Good Friday finds you? Are you full of faith? Faltering?
Not beginning to comprehend or claim rights to pain and suffering, I do find myself needing to be honest about my faith…especially on this Friday.
Shortly after my mom found a note on the table saying my dad was leaving after 20+ years of marriage, I remember making my way to one of my favorite places on the planet. A bookstore. Books are my friends, my teachers. I remember thinking that stormy night, “if only I can find some words of wisdom and comfort during this time; then I might be able to gain my footing.”
Our eyes bring a unique view on life. Whether it be a book, movie, or the infamous blue and black dress, we all see things slightly differently. Depending on our background, experiences, or even our mood, we interpret each message in a personal way. Bombarded by texts, tv, email, and mass media marketing; I want to challenge you to look for the more subtle but spiritual messages meant for you today, this week, and in your life. Words are all around you…messages meant for you. Don’t get confused or flustered by other’s interpretation of the proverbial dress. Be open to hear what Words He might speak to your heart today. Continue reading
Please note: Chris (aka my editor) likened this blog to a slice of Maggiano’s Zucatta cake. It is deep and rich and should be eaten with slow bites. It is the kind of thing that should possibly be shared, and should not be rushed unless one wants to end up with a stomach ache!
Crystal clear is how I like my communication. I never liked the game of telephone. (Not the kind in which you whisper a funny phrase with friends around the table.) The other kind, with the string and the tin can. I always felt like the words being delivered were either so close and obvious, or so muffled that the game was pure bunk. Just climb down from the treehouse and tell me what you were trying to say! This tin can game is crap. Hurray, for ACTUAL telephones that deliver the message–loud and in stereo–even by video at times. Crystal clear communication please.
Not so with the God of the universe. With Him and me it feels at times we are playing a game of muffled, old-fashioned tin can telephone. Anyone else have fuzzy reception? Continue reading
Earlier this month I traveled back to the place where I felt most exposed, most disappointed, and most broken. Ever. I made the choice to go. I packed up our entire family, boarded a plane and away we went. The place was just as we had left it…maybe a little hotter, a littler drier, but the same. I went willingly but with small shreds of dread in my heart. I knew we were meant to return. But if you have not heard, this, The Most Elaborate Foster Plan Ever Orchestrated, or this The Epic Adventure is Over; were the reasons for my dread. Upon reflection I realize my search for hope in the midst of hardship is not an uncommon pursuit. I would love for you to join me today in uncovering a path to hope despite the hardship.
The Rock and Roll Country Music Marathon was my first and last marathon. Nashville was an interesting choice…bands and cheerleaders every few miles…cool scenery…I can see why we thought that location had a decent draw. But seriously, who knew Nashville was SO darn hilly? I mean practically mountainous. She was my first and only. She ruined me for any and all marathons moving forward. For SO many reasons: One being I could watch 2 movies in the time that it took to run that beast. 2 movies or 15 episodes of Friends. Come on people…15 episodes. Not to mention marathon training is INTENSE and it is something I cannot give my life to. It is AMAZING and INSPIRING and I am in awe of those who run more than one 26.2 race. Give me some heavy ropes, a TRX, and kettle bell and we will do work. But spending HOURS and HOURS running to get to a total of 26.2–is a one and only for me. I had to put it bed. Forever.
Our family watched A Christmas Carol last night and I began to ponder the life of Ebenezer Scrooge. He had a difficult childhood…abandoned, neglected, forgotten. He lost a sister he loved. He lost perspective. Fear and greed drove his business to flourish, but drove his engagement to destruction. The story reminded me once again; we all have reasons for being where we are and who we are at this very moment in time.
The past 12 months have been a doozy. No one would blame us this holiday season if we were a bit cranky, like Scrooge. “Bah Humbug,” yeah, it doesn’t roll off my tongue?!