Christmas Cheer Overload

I have finally experienced too much of a good thing.
We decided to pare down the gift giving for the 2009 holiday season.

The rules were simple:

$10 limit per person. However, each item had to be handmade, resale, pre-owned, repurposed or purloined from someone else (my idea of purloined is asking a friend if they had something they no longer wanted that I could have). The only stipulation was that each gift had to be nicely wrapped-and the paper had to be old/used/pre-owned as well.

I admit I had a blast obtaining items from random places and wrapping them up. There was a reckless abandon in finding things and hiding them. And I like to believe everyone else had fun as well.

Here's where the problem arose.

We put no limit on the number of gifts each person should receive. So when I had 5 gifts for one person that had little or no cost, I kept looking for ways to spend that $10 on them. I think everyone else had the same thinking, especially when we looked at the Christmas tree and the gifts were spilling out into the middle of the living room. It must have taken us several hours to unwrap everything till it got ridiculous.

Too many blessings! So many cool things we either couldn't remember what we had or couldn't fully appreciate them all. Seriously, we all looked a little exhausted as we viewed the mayhem and madness after the fact.

Over the last week I've been reliving that experience, of feeling overwhelmed with TOO MUCH good stuff. It got me to thinking of how God sometimes metes out our blessings in tiny amounts and we wish He'd be more generous. We look at other folks who have things we'd like to have or have the funds to do things we'd love to do and wish we were blessed like that. We're so certain we can handle it.

But I'm not so sure.

How pointless it would be to receive so many blessings we can't absorb them all. I'd hate for them to go to waste, wouldn't you?
And I'd hate to take anything for granted in the blessing process. I want to enjoy it ALL.

I'm already planning our holiday rules for next year. As much as I loved all the time and attention my family lavished on me this year I want it to be more measured next time. I want to oohh and ahhh over every item and hear the story behind where it came from and hug and kiss the giver.

And I want my God-given blessings to be appreciated the same way.

When God Answers Your Prayers

Human beings are an enigma. No. Change that. Human beings are contradictory. Wait. Maybe we're just indecisive; I think so but I'm not sure.

The point I'm trying to make is that we seem to want what we don't have and disregard the cool things we DO have. I don't have to tell you about our tendency to value what everyone else has, either characteristically or materially or even spiritually.
We seem to be so busy evaluating what our friends and neighbors have that we overlook our own blessings.

I wonder sometimes if we frustrate God. He promises to relate to us; to know us so well He sees our hearts and knows our desires. He knows our fervent (and not so fervent) prayers. Yet when those very prayers get answered we sit dumbly and don't know what to do with them.
I'm experiencing that sensation right now.

For years I've prayed for my daughter Kari and son Ryan. I love them both so much.
Recently Ryan made some life-changing decisions that I have prayed for and fully support.
I know those decisions are a direct answer to prayer.

And yet I find myself awed and maybe a little confused in the changes Ryan has made in his life.
God's response to my prayers has altered the direction my son is headed in life. I love it.
So why do I feel confusion when I actually get to witness this answer to prayer?

I think we get accustomed to people being who they are and doing what they do. Despite our hopes and prayers we don't really expect anything to change. We attempt to fit everyone into neat little categories and that's where they remain and that's what we wrap our lives around.

I've seen many wives spend years asking God to make their husbands the spiritual leader in their homes. These women plead and cry and beseech God to do a miracle on behalf of their spouse.

Then it happens.

One miraculous moment appears and dear old hubby 'gets it.'
Suddenly dear husband is repentant (yay!), attentive (double yay!), and eager to change.

But wait a minute.

If dear hubby changes, praying wife must change also. There can't be two head honchos in the same tipi. Someone has to adapt, step back, change behaviors.

This is what wife prayed for but it doesn't feel all that good.

Where we pushed before ("Come ON. Let's go to church") we find ourselves pulling back ("Can't you skip the men's prayer breakfast just this once so we can spend time together?").

That's why we are such an enigma. Do we want the Lord to answer our prayers or not? Do we want our loved ones to experience healing?

I think the question should be: Are we sincere enough in our prayers to be willing to deal with the consequences? Can we give up our identity of being the long-suffering wife (mom, dad, employee) in order to have our prayers answered?

I used to think this saying was a joke. Now that I'm being challenged to accept this 'new son' God has given me, I'm not so sure anymore.

Be careful what you pray for; you may just get it.

Ambition or Faith?

We walk a fine line between ambition and faith. Faith tells us to walk through open doors and take steps of trust in areas where God leads us. Ambition tells us to work every angle and push doors open by sheer will and hard work.

I struggle with the concept of ambition vs. faith quite often. Is God telling me to move ahead and market myself and my ministry or is it simply my own ambition?

I know myself; I know that I enjoy reaching people and touching lives that need encouragement and hope. But I've burned out in the past trying to do everything for everyone and all it really resulted in was lost time. And I'm left with the question: Was I operating by faith or ambition?

Many people in my age group (those who have been in the workforce for longer than 10 years) find themselves asking this same question. Many times they decide to keep striving, keep moving onward and upward in their quest for meaning in their lives. They find themselves in jobs they learn to hate because it pays well and has good benefits. Lifestyle choices convince them that they have to keep running on the hamster wheel of work and stress to maintain it.
When they get exhausted they resort to retail therapy, expensive vacations, toys, and finally, to therapy in the hopes of finding relief.

Is this what Scripture intended when it stated, "If a man does not work, neither shall he eat."?(II Thessalonians 3:10).

I don't think so.

Our faithfulness to God requires us to be obedient. Absolutely. But our society tells us that money will buy cool stuff and a great life, which is not necessarily true. Many folks I know have lots of money and are not as happy as we think they are.

This last week I asked several clients and friends if they thought God was subtle in their lives. Did they have to strive to hear God and feel panic that they had to stop everything to hear His 'still, small voice'?

Every one of them said no! God was not shy in any of their lives in guiding them into the right decisions for them. If anything, each one had to force themselves to sit back and relax until God led them. In the meantime, no one went without blessing- not one!

It reminds me of a conversation my daughter Kari had with a classmate in high school:
C: "So, Kari, do you have a job?"
K: "No, why do I want a job?"
C: "So you can get a car."
K: "Why do I need a car?"
C: "So you can get to work."

See the quandry? Are we to work too hard doing something we don't like to earn money to pay for stuff we're too exhausted to enjoy?

I want a legacy of proper investment in my life. That investment doesn't necessarily involve new cars (I'd love a new car!), or great vacations (I'd love a vacation, too). It does include being healthy enough to bless God and others, to have enough money to tithe, pay my bills, and donate a few bucks here and there when needed.

The answer to the question of ambition vs faithfulness = Which of the two choices bring contentment?
I Timothy 6:6 says, 'For godliness with contentment is great gain.'

I've decided to focus on contentment; God will certainly (and NOT subtly!) guide me in the work I am to do or to leave for someone else to accomplish.

Enough deep thought- I'm going to take a nap.

Deep Thoughts

I haven't had the desire to write lately.
My former (and first) pastor, John Erenz, suffered a massive heart attack last Wednesday, September 30, and could not be resuscitated. The news was totally unexpected; he'd been active and vital up until the very end.
Don and I were notified that same day along with details regarding the funeral. That meant I had a week to prepare and to begin the grieving process.
I mourned the loss of the man who, despite having no biological children of his own, could claim many of his former church members as 'adopted' into his family. His (and his wife Judy's) heart was so big he welcomed everyone into it.
I met John and Judy Erenz when I was 15 years old and had just accepted Christ as my personal Savior. They invited me to church and the youth group. Almost every experience in my younger years somehow involved Pastor John.
Pastor John always had time for me. Even when he didn't have time he had time. Often when life at my own home was unbearable I knew I could find refuge with him and Judy.
I learned so many things about integrity and faithfulness. I learned that no matter what everyone else was doing it was imperative to be obedient to what God wanted me to do. And the only way I could learn how to be obedient was to read the Bible.
Pastor John insisted I go to Bible college. But he also protected and supported me while I was there. It was so dramatic being a teenager!
There are so many stories I could share about my experiences with Pastor John. Each one reminds me that God brings people into our lives to have an affect on us and to help us along.
One thing I have always been militant about is that I have never missed sending Pastor John a Father's Day card. In 37 years I have never missed sending a carefully selected card- and Judy told me that he saved every one of them.
I know I'm not the only person on whom Pastor John kept a file of cards and notes. But I felt so special knowing how important my thoughts toward him were to him.
I've felt numb since receiving the tearful phone call from Judy telling me that PJ had died. Loss and pain mixed with joy that he finally, at 67, gets to sit down and chat with Jesus and Paul and Charles Spurgeon among others. He isn't getting tired of singing all 4 verses of every hymn in every hymnal. Maybe he'll finally be able to play his trumpet and actually reach the high notes without the angels plugging their ears.
As I found my seat in the First Baptist Church of Pecatonica, IL I looked around and noticed many familiar faces along with many folks I'd never seen before. All of these people were former or current friends of Pastor John. Many local pastors shared how much he helped them during difficult times in their own churches.
He'd always wanted everyone to get together for bonfires and dinners and holidays. I couldn't stop thinking, "Pastor John would have loved this. He'd have loved all these people getting together to sing and reminisce and maybe even shed a few tears over him. He'd have gloried in the lives he'd been able to reach in his years of serving the Lord. "
So Pastor John, good job. I will always remember you and what you've meant to me.
I will miss you so much, yet I know we will be reunited in heaven. You'll tell me what you've been up to and I'll tell you my stories. Maybe we'll reminisce about the 'old days.'
Thanks for everything Pastor John. Come good home.

New York New York, It's a Wonderful Town

Last week a girlfriend and I went to New York to visit my daughter Kari in Astoria. Stephanie (said girlfriend) had never been and she had been eager to see the sights. I'd been a few times but since Kari had moved to a new apartment I gladly went to check it all out.

It was go go go from the time we got on the plane until we returned home 5 days later. We tried to pace ourselves but the very buzz of the city itself made it impossible to go slowly.
If we wanted to go to, say, Times Square, we had to hop on two busses, three subways, and walk twelve blocks just to get there. It would take all day and some careful planning to spend a few minutes at the attraction itself. By then, sometimes, we didn't care. I did purchase some postcards to remind myself of where I'd been.

The crowds were everywhere; the only place there was solitude would be in the bathroom. Even then you had to rush because there were always several desperate people waiting outside wiggling the door handle.

We visited Ground Zero the day after the anniversary of the attack. It was a somber experience to see the memorials, handwritten notes and flowers lined up against the fence.
We also rode the Staten Island Ferry and viewed the Statue of Liberty. Stephanie made sure we rode a horse drawn carriage through Central Park. Kari and I walked partway across the Brooklyn Bridge (we went halfway and back).

Kari's apartment is very nice; she and Gareth have made it into a home. Actually, Maeby and Ferrari, her cats, only allow humans to live there to care for them. Gareth, Kari's fella, cooked us a wonderful italian meal that I am still carrying around my midsection.

I was very glad to return to St. Louis, however. I realized how blessed I am to have a place to call home that I can actually hear... nothing. Busy cities make it difficult to be relational as there are too many people rushing around to get to know many of them.
I found myself longing for the ability once more to chat up the grocery checker, to tease the person at the drive thru window, to nod and smile at someone as they pass.

Relationships are challenging enough without the added pressure of the 'rules of the city.'
For example, Kari grilled me before we first set out sightseeing:
1) Don't make eye contact,
2) Don't talk to anyone you don't know,
3) Don't pet someone elses' dog on the street,
4) Don't wait for someone to go in front of you- you must push forward or you'll never get anywhere,
5) Get through the turnstiles fast or you'll be cursed out or run over.

It was exhausting!

I loved my visit. I experienced a few snags sleeping (Kari woke me up one night because I was snoring. She said I sounded like a dying alien...). Gareth is a great host and Kari is a good guide.

It's been about a week now and my ears have almost quit ringing. By next week I hope to be able to sleep without fighting the desire to look out my bedroom window to watch my neighbor's big screen tv.

If I've gained anything from this trip (besides weight) I'd learned to be glad that I'm a midwesterner. I may not know my way around my own town (read previous blog) but I know I can pet someone's dog (if it's shorter than me- read previous previous blog), and that good manners will always put a smile on someone's face.

Fun With Church Ladies

Thanks to all the 2 Rivers ladies who came out en masse to enjoy a great evening at the Lindsay's Chocolate Cafe on Wednesday night. I'd like to think each person came to fellowship and to hear me speak but I know better. It was the promise of CHOCOLATE.
We girls have our needs, right?
The food was phenomenal, the ladies were so friendly, and the ambience made it a wonderful evening.
Everyone was very attentive although I suspect that since I spoke after dessert that their rapt attention was in reality a sugar buzz.
So be it.
I loved the warmth and openness of each lady who approached me to introduce themselves and visit.
So thanks again (thanks Chardean). It was a lot of fun.
BTW- I must have had too much cake since I got lost on my way home. Really.
I've lived in this area for almost 22 years and I got lost going home.
Ya gotta laugh.

My Own Worst Enemy

I am such a klutz. Really. Every injury I've ever had has been something dumb I did to myself.
Just like everyone else, I've stubbed my toes and crunched my knuckles on something. I've had to have sewing machine needles removed from my finger (after having to lift the presser foot and releasing my digit from the machine). I've needed stitches for holding a knife wrong and trying to cut through frozen food and slipped. I've given myself a black eye running into the arm of a chair.
My neighbors never really know what to expect when I leave my house for work since I've fallen out of my own front door. Twice. Everything stops when I'm nearby as everyone waits to see what I'm going to do next.
I've even been whiplashed by a mannequin in a department store; the explaining I had to do and teasing I had to endure while undergoing treatment was disconcerting. And that was just by the doctor!
The latest episode to my list of embarassing injuries occurred last week while waiting to go on a bike ride with my hubby.
He'd gone to pick something up at our house and so I asked to be dropped off at the end of our street so I could play with/pet the neighbor's great dane.
I don't know this dog very well but he seems to be very sweet. I've petted him several times and he 'plays well with others.'
Man, when this dog gets up on his back feet to get closer he towers over me. Looking at him that day, I estimated him to weigh probably 180 lbs. I wanted to break away from the petting gently so he wouldn't get upset so I pushed against his shoulders to get him back over his side of the fence.
Suddenly I felt this sharp pain on my upper lip and I doubled over to put my hand over my mouth. My eyes clenched shut as the tears rushed down my face. Once I opened my eyes I looked at my hand, fully expecting to see my front teeth in my palm. Luckily, no. Blood, but no teeth. Apparently the dog had bumped into me with his giant paw and hit me just under the nose.
By this time Don has returned for me; he must be really used to my clumsy antics because he calmly looked at me and said, "Here, put some ice on it."
The bleeding stopped soon afterwards and we went on with our bike ride. Even as I write this my mouth is still tender but now I'm in the 'I can't believe I did that' mode.
But it is a reminder to me how most of the pain we experience we somehow do to ourselves.
Misunderstandings, a rush to judgement, not thinking clearly, impatience. These all create a pain that could be avoided if we stopped, took a breath, opened our hearts to the Lord, and stepped a bit more gently into the situation.
I never really get the sympathy I think I deserve when I'm experiencing pain like that. I think my friends are quick to understand that if I hadn't (for example) gone to pet the dog I wouldn't be bruised and sore right now.
It's a great lesson to us all to think first, live prayerfully, and never pet an animal that is taller than you are.