As each season ends a legacy is born.

Some legacies are wished to be forgotten by the ones who receive them and some just go down in memories possibly being recalled at family reunions, but others can hardly be forgotten.

"You will never know how to live until you are ready to die." written in Grampy's hand in the back of his Bible.

 

This past month Strong man's grandfather passed from this world to the next.  He was a mighty man.  He fought in WWII taking a bullet for his country and then continued protecting this country by securing our borders.  He lived up on a hill in a little town occupied by, at best 100 people.  When I met him at 89 he was still using the tractor and chainsaw.  (He defied time as his 89th year lasted for at least the first four years of my marriage.)  He knew everybody by name and most of those he knew tried to get a copy of his cinnamon bun recipe.  His character was one that most will never achieve and so was his generosity. 

 

But as many said their goodbyes, these accomplishments were not the outstanding memory.  The legacy that "Old Grandpa," as my boys would say, left behind was that he loved Jesus and he was compelled to tell every human being he crossed paths with that they should too.

When he left for the grocery store he not only made sure to bring his shopping list but more importantly he brought at least two pocket Bibles to give away just in case he had the chance.  And he ALWAYS turned that chance into a reality, not just when he was grocery shopping but anytime he left the house.  In fact he didn't even have to leave the house, any who would come into his home both friend and stranger could not say they didn't know of the Jesus from the Bible as they left.  Countless will walk through the gates of heaven because he took the time to tell them about his Savior, giving each of those people a small pocket Bible as a gift.  His faith and example to those of us watching is the most valuable part of the legacy he left behind.

This is the reason so many of us passed his name onto our sons. 

I don't know how it is possible but for my Strong Man, he was even more then mighty in character, more then generous, more than spiritually life saving, he was a "man of old," as the author of Hebrews 11 calls the old testament hero's.

 

Maybe it's because he spent summers up on the hill with his Grampy, as he called him. 
Maybe it's because he was with him so many times he paused as if nothing were more important but to give one of those Bibles away. 
Maybe it's because he heard those life saving words leave his Grampy's mouth over and over.

 

I'm sure it's in part the way Grampy and Nana read there Bible and prayed together everyday.
I'm sure it's in part because Grampy made sure to include him as a child and even as an adult into these daily readings.
I'm sure it's in part Grampy's insistence to always pray with him before they parted ways.

Before Strong man would consider me as his wife I had to spend a day up on the hill with him and his Grampy, looking for Grampy's approval of me...I'm sure of the moment Grampy thought I was a keeper.  It was when I solved the dilemma of cleaning the chainsaws hard to reach area's with a Q-tip.  And I'm sure Strong man new I was keeper when I assured his grandfather the lunch he made for us was amazing.  Still to this day I'm not sure what it was we ate, but it did have peas included; the one and only vegetable I hate to eat cooked.  Only later that day through conversation did Strong man learn I detested cooked peas.  Or more likely Strong man knew I was "The One" when Grampy invited me back and I was willing to return.  Shortly there after I found a diamond on my finger and wedding bells in the air.  As we planned we decided there was no better way then to start our life together with Grampy standing before the throne on our behalf and so with a 20 minute prayer limit, Grampy closed our wedding ceremony and birthed us spiritually into marriage.  Sweet memories. 

 

But even when these memories fade I pray his legacy will live on past my Strong man, into my sons who may pass it to there children, for many generations to come may his love for Jesus, his legacy only become stronger.
Simple reflection on the legacy he left behind proves he "gained approval through his faith."  Yes, I'm sure that if he had lived before the list of the "Men of old" was written he would surely be one of those men. 

I will cause Your name to be remembered in all generations;  Therefore the peoples will give You thanks forever and ever.

~ Psalm 45:17

To the two who grew in my womb,

There will be times when only you will know what it is God has asked you to do.  Good intentioned people will not understand and even try to change your ways, I may not even understand.  When these times come beg God to search your heart and show you if you have turned away from Him.  (Don't ask Him to affirm your actions as proof that you are doing what's right.  One question is asked in humility while the other in pride, and it is the humble heart that He will direct.)  If you through all your searching of Him and if He finds you blameless in all His searching of you are still convicted to walk against the well intentioned and perplexed mother then remember these people and carry on.

Now faith is the assurance of the things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.  For by it the men of old gained approval.  By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God so that what is seen was not made out of things which are visible. 

By faith...
...Abraham, when tested, offered up Isaac, and he who had received the promises was offering up his only begotten son; it was he to whom it was said, "In Isaac your descendants shall be called."
...Even Sarah herself received ability to conceive.
...Isaac...Jacob...Joseph...Moses...
...The walls of Jericho fell.
...Rahab the harlot...
...Women received back their dead by resurrection.
...Others were tortured...experienced mockings and scourgings...chains and imprisonment...they were stoned...sawn in two...tempted...put to death...

And all these, having gained approval through their faith...(Hebrews 11)

And some will say, my loves, that these are men of the past of the Old Testament, before the new covenant was established.  Then boys remember these:

~George Muller who built multiple orphanages simply by praying; through faith.
~Jim Elliot who had a great ministry by all Christian standards here in the U.S. but left to love a people that ended up killing him.
~Elisabeth, Mr. Elliot's wife, who after her husband was killed went to those same people and watched them come to know Jesus and eventually the entire tribe.
~Francis Chan, who gave away 90% of his income and watched God change heart after heart, and miracle after miracle happen.

Sometimes what we are asked to do will be understood only by God. 

May you, dearest boys, find God's approval through your faith.

Love you,
Mommy

And He began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.  And He was stating the matter plainly.  And Peter took Him aside and began to rebuke Him.  but turning around and seeing His disciples, He rebuked Peter and said, "Get behind me, Satan; for you are not setting your mind on God's interests, but man's."

~ Mark 8:31-33

But what of me?

Honest love...honest love...two words that slap me in the face with almost every breath.  Two words that won't be seen side by side any where in the Bible, but then when one puts there heart so painstakingly out there some things don't need to be said but are simply known.  Honest love.  God's love is honest.  No doubt in the mind of any who know Him.  But what of me, is there a doubt in others that I reflect honest love?  I look in the mirror, I see clearly that my love is far from honest, my reflection blemished, and that is when I feel the sting.

I pull out my crayon box in search for the right colors so I can see those God breathed words come together.  My red crayon to remember sacrifice, because isn't that the foundation of love.  With purple I will uncover the heart.  At first I move slow and find my thoughts drifting, but days pass and the pages turn faster and naps end quickly and it's not enough time.  I need more time.  These Holy words need more of my time.  I so desperately need to see. 

Alone sipping coffee the pages turn, crayon marks show me how far I am from Honest Love, the foundation of God's heart.  The more I search the more my religion is torn apart.  This is good, because God hates rituals, and isn't religion just a list of rituals to check off ensuring one has done enough?  Isn't religion just one more caution that God doesn't simply want obedience but wants our love.

Is it a fast like this which I choose, a day for a man to humble himself?  Is it for bowing one's head like a reed and for spreading out sackcloth and ashes as a bed?  Will you call this a fast, even an acceptable day to the LORD? Is this not the fast which I choose, to loosen the bonds of wickedness, to undo the bands of the yoke, and to let the oppressed go free and break every yoke?  Is it not to divide your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into the house; when you see the naked, to cover him; and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?  Then your light will break out like the dawn, and your recovery will speedily spring forth; and your righteousness will go before you; the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.  Then you will call, and the LORD will answer; you will cry, and He will say, "Here I am."

 

~ Isaiah 58:5-9a

I'm disgusted.

Mondays are by far my favorite day of the week, for one simple reason: Date night!  Each Monday the grandparents are happy to spend the evening with the littles while we are happy to spend the evening making googly eyes at each other as we talk about where we are as people not just as parents. 

Tonight as we were looking over the Monday night specials I noticed a small piece of paper with this title, "The greatest news ever heard".  The waitress in me instantly rolled my eyes and my mouth spewed out, "Yes it's the greatest news you've ever heard in fact it's so important you won't even take the time to tell me in person."  Out it came, harsh but true.  That's exactly how my coworkers would look at it.  After I tucked it in my purse so our waitress wouldn't have to find it I noticed another one entitled, "Easter basket or empty tomb?"  Now really let's put ourselves in the shoes of a not yet believer who has only heard of Jesus from t.v. and news articles..."Heck ya, I'll take the chocolate and spring colors with children giggling as they search for hidden eggs.  What do I care about a dusty old cave?"...Seriously, you who left that tract, admit it, you hid eggs for your children and let them open there Easter baskets before church just like the "pagans".

...Yeah, I'll just tuck those words deeeeep in my bag so there is no chance of it falling out...

To us who already know the gift of Easter the tract makes perfect sense, but to those who only know Christians as media portrays them:  a people who don't allow women freedom of choice and hate homosexuals, those same words are not going to be seen as a gift but rather more proof they should stay out of the way of Christians.

God wants a relationship with us.  Anyone who is a Christian knows this so why would we take the relationship out of the gospel and think we are doing a great thing for the kingdom when we leave a tract without taking the time to personally show God's tangible love.

Philip ran up and heard him reading Isaiah the prophet, and said, "Do you understand what you are reading?"  And he said, "Well, how could I, unless some one guides me?"  And he invited Philip to come up and sit with him.

~ Acts 8:30-31

Why I cringe at being called a Christian, part 2

The other day I shared this post, part 1. I just laid it out there not sharing my heart, but giving proof of the christian reality of those looking in. I have much of the conversation still running through my mind. So many thoughts so many hurts so many things I want to change within me, as one close to me once said, "I have to be the change I want to see." This one too I asked why he left the church a place he entered each Sunday as a child, unfortunately his response didn't surprise me...

As for the church...I have seen satin occupy the building thus displacing the words spoken. Actions speak louder then words. I forget who said it but I try to live by, to thine own self be true. Basically knowing when I've done right and owning when I've done wrong and realizing that I have to be the change that I want to see, and understanding that I cannot change others only myself and my actions...

In neither recollection of the time spent in "church fellowship" was love, grace, forgiveness, discipleship ever mentioned.

I want to be the change I want to see. I want to be known as a Jesus follower.  I want Honest love.

But if you had known what this means, "I desire compassion, and not sacrifice," you would not have condemned the innocent.

~ Matthew 12:7

Why I cringe at being called a Christian, part 1

Just like when I wrote the post, It's almost midnight but I can't sleep, I find myself in front of the fire as snow quietly falls outside, it's midnight, and I am awake, pondering words of a coworker.

Work was slow, we all did our tasks, but found rest in the first slow Friday since the new year.  As I took the salad bar apart I asked one that I knew had some church experience, "Were you raised in the church?"

I grew up Catholic.  I just didn't like it.  Then when I lived down south I went to a Southern Baptist church, but they were too focused on there possessions, there status quo.  I tried the Apostolic Pentecostal church too.  It didn't matter how strictly I did what I was supposed too, I could never get the holy ghost.  The Baptist, there fake...The phone rang interrupting our conversation, an interruption I was relieved to have as tears were brimming.  The pain and the hurt too much for words.

It's almost midnight, but I can't sleep.

There are hot coals and a small flame shining through the stove glass. As I sit looking out the window I see no moon but can see the snow covered trees. Pure and holy, full of Grace that snow, a reminder of how endless Jesus' love for me is. While these moments are serene and beautiful, that is not why I am awake.

Today a family of three came into the store. I worked hard to keep there glasses full, the table clean. I always initiated the conversation trying to show them I wasn't just working, but honestly cared for them. Never a smile, never a "how are you?" in return. And yet as they left I began clearing the table. Waiting in a small pile were three dollar bills, a bit of change, not even 10% of the bill but as I do every time I clean a table I thank God for the tip. However this time I also added in a, "I'm glad I had this table and my coworker didn't." Underneath the meager tip was a piece of paper entitled "Lost or Saved" with a cross on the front. As I piled it in with the rest of my trash I thought to myself, "Words, empty words is what they just gave me. Where was the love? The joy at least? Without love the words are simply trash or worse another weight on the receivers already too heavy burden."

Shortly there after two preteens, their mother and her parents were seated in my section. Just before they ate as I was taking an order at the other end of the dining room I heard grandpa say, "It's time to pray." Never did a cup run dry or a need go unmet as they enjoyed lunch. The bill was over $40 dollars, the tip was again less then 10%. As I set the table again my heart hurt because both families lived up to the reputation Christians have given servers.

A fellow server, obviously gay, served food in the middle of prayer once. Immediately after he walked into the wait station with, "Wow, I interrupted that family's prayer. They were probably praying for me anyway. I guess I just gave them more reason to."

Or another server asked once what we did with the tracks people gave us. She stores hers in a box afraid that a hell might really exist and thinks throwing them away might put her one step closer to it. She also wonders who they are to judge her when they don't even know her. "What if I believed in God just like they do?" she said as she tucked the hard, cold words into her coat pocket.

It hurts that Christian after Christian show my coworkers that there understanding of Christians being stingy, smug, arrogant, and unforgiving is actually spot on truth.

There is no question in any of my coworkers minds that I am a lover of Jesus. I know for some of them to put me in the Christian category takes work, and I'm not sure they can even do it. Honestly when the word Christian comes up everything about me changes, a 50 ton rock lands in my gut, my skin twitches, and my shoulders sag.

A few times we've had straight up belief conversations. Those usually start with "aliens or no aliens," the conversation evolves into "creation or evolution," with some ideas that actually we came from mythological creatures thrown in. Belief talks are fun talks not talks of the heart. Talks of the heart is my reaction to daily life that makes them wonder what's different about me. Things I never even remember sharing with them will come back up weeks later in question format, "you do this, right?" a test to make sure I wasn't just spouting off some hogwash like those who pray a bit too loudly.

Today was a big step in our relationships. It all started with an awful night. The restaurant was full, maybe three tables were empty in the whole place. I was serving 11 tables at once. Turns out quite a few tables stiffed me. Just after the rush my shift manager decided that he wanted to leave no later then 15 minutes after close and insisted that I begin my closing chores rather then doing the normal dining room clean up. Please note close was 2 1/2 hours away. Then he began asking me every five minutes what I had left to do, for two hours he did this. Needless to say, much to my shame, the closer we got to close the more my attitude stank. In short I was a butt. I was still fuming at 1 in the morning. But as I dressed for work this morning I decided I had to do the right thing and apologize. So I did. At the hut word spreads like a wild fire, so those who didn't work knew and some even asked me about it. With those who asked details I emphasized that it didn't matter if I was justified in my anger I was still a butt. I was wrong.

I am no better then those Christians that leave tracks, but don't bother to ask how your day is going. I am no better then those who make sure at least half the restaurant know they are about to pray and then leave an awful tip. The good Lord knows I've done both. I am just as sinful as they are, but I live life honestly. My love is flawed, but my love is honest. Isn't that what Jesus wants? Honest love.

Before you pat me on the shoulder with sad eyes nodding your head at how horrible it is that other Christians do this, please, I beg you, think about the last time you were leaving a tip at a restaurant, the hairdressers, any interaction with a stranger, whatever, what did you do to show love? I can be blunt and ask this hard question because I have been that Christian before. My aha moment happened as I walked the streets of Budapest. A crippled homeless man sat on the corner with a cup reaching out for charity. I walked past. Stopped. Turned around put a track in his cup told him to have a good day and carried on. Instantly I was guilty. I did the deed but had no love, turning life changing words into proof that Jesus wasn't worth his time. That has forever changed me.

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"I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians.  Your Christians are so unlike you Christ."

~ Mahatma Gandhi

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If I speak with the tongues of man and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a noisy gong or clanging cymbal.

~ 1 Corinthians 13:1

A pretty tough piece of meat I'm still chewing over.

Do you wonder why this is the attitude "outsiders" take when they brush past those of us who call ourselves Christians?  I just had a conversation like this, a little more respectful, but basically this conversation.  I'm not satisfied with the answer, "Darkness hates the light."...Those who were considered the worst of people in Jesus' time where the ones who where most attracted to Him...What does that say about what we should be doing vs. what we are doing?...Food for thought...

The beginnings of Haven

I stole this from my Strong man's blog...

Years before my wife and I met, God put a dream in my heart. That dream was to own a place where people who were weary from the world could come and find rest. In my mind it was a camp in the woods, were the world-weary could come, serve, encounter God and live simply until they recovered from the storm. I almost bought 140-acre plot of land to make it happen, but then I met a girl, bought a house and started a family.

That girl had a dream; something God had put on her heart. That dream was to own a place where people who were weary from the world could come and find rest. In her mind it was a small hotel or bed and breakfast, where world-weary people could come, serve, encounter God and live simply until they recovered from the storm. She had her eye on a large house in the western mountains of Maine that she thought would be perfect for this, but she was a missionary in Hungary, until she met a boy, bought a house and started a family.

Five years passed. In that time they had two beautiful boys, had several different people live with them, learned how important family is to the mission they both felt called to do, applied for a job that offered great financial security, learned a lot about trust, sold their house, turned down a job that offered great financial security, moved in with friends who seemed to have a similar vision only to have that experiment end without really ever getting started, interned at their church, learned at the feet of a great mentor, made life long friends, battled bi-polar disorder, baptized new believers and waited for God’s timing.

Then the phone rang...

Life gets busy over the next month or two, but we both will come back to this...

What do you see?

Let's play a game shall we?  Do you remember when we were wee littles on warm days laying in the grass looking at the clouds?  Do you remember all the things you found in the clouds?  Clouds hold it all don't they?   Come play, lay in the grass with me.

What is it that you see here?
I see heaven in the far off distance.  With sin hiding it's beautiful streets of gold.

And here?

A glimpse.

 Those beautiful streets over taking the shadows of this world.  That is what I see.

And now what do you see?

I see a heart, made out of fingers.  Maybe held by the arms of God?

And now?  True Glory?
...Breath taking!

I see that there must be a Maker.  There is too much beauty for a chance to fall upon us like this everyday.  The very fact that this happens everyday draws me into the thought of the Maker.

Then God said, "Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night, and let them be for signs and seasons and for days and years; and let them be for lights in the expanse of the heavens to give light on the earth"; and it was so.  God made the two great lights, the greater light to govern the day, and the lesser light to govern the night; He made the starts also.

~ Genesis 1:14-16

1519.  Glimpses of Glory.

Home alone tonight.

The house has been quiet for hours now.  The three men went to town to play games and eat out.  I'd say a great man date.  They begged for me to come along too, but today it would have ended with hurt hearts. 

As I change medications my mind jumps from one emotion to the next so simple things drive me to fiery anger.  For example:  I've spent many days in bed this week so when I came out of my room sweet Laughter was overjoyed to see me. He reached out to pat my leg as he said with much glee, "Oh Momma! You here!" I tried hard but still in harsh tones I told him not to touch me as I walked past him out of the room.  In the moment it was the nicest thing I could have done for him...Pretty ugly huh?

I don't know how to see this coming or how to stop myself from these harsh words.  For now until the medications kick in I'm staying at a distancing hoping and praying the Lord will allowing them to forget.

These are the times were I'm constantly reminding myself that this hidden sickness that I have isn't just for me to learn and grow from, but for my men too.  My marriage is sacred.  My Boys gifts from the Almighty.  This sickness too a gift for all of us.

In all their affliction He was afflicted, and the angel of His presence saved them; In His love and in His mercy He redeemed them, and He lifted them and carried them all the days of old.

~ Isaiah 63:9

1399.  Still wanted after all my harsh words.

1400.  Man dates.

1401.  Time alone with God.

1402.  Silence.

1403.  Doc to see me straight away.

1404.  Coffee with my Helper of men friend.

1405.  Encouraging words; a prospective I can't see on my own.

1406.  Bedtime cuddles.

1407.  Little boy prayers just for me.