Holy Leisure

Happy New Year, friends!

As many of you know we are right smack in the middle of the biggest snow storm of the year in Western Washington! School has been cancelled for another day, and so my boys have holed up for a lazy day of snow-fun and hot cocoa. I, having felt the urge to write a little something, am nestled down in front of my big picture window where I can look up at the snow-laden branches of the cedar and fir trees in my front yard. I’d say that these are the perfect conditions for creative expression! After writing approximately 50 pages worth of research and reflection papers in the month of December, it’s nice to have a day like today to stretch the old finger tips out across the keyboard in a more leisurely fashion.

This blog is a place for me to share some of my reflections on life and scripture – especially where life and scripture intertwine.  Usually what happens is that I’ll find myself walking along through my day and some person, some interaction, or some paradoxical situation will catch my attention and cause me to pause. I’ll begin to chew on the cause of that pause, add a bit of scripture for seasoning, and then few days later I’ll share with you my reflective process and the final nugget. Honestly, writing is the way I’ve processed life for many, many years and I’ve been all the better for it. It keeps me healthy. If you gain something from my reflections, I’m astonished and honored to have been able to share what God has shared with me.

If you’d like to know more about the theme of my blog “Holy Leisure”, please take a look at my entry from last winter: So, what’s this about Holy Leisure?

Have you been out to see your grandma lately?

Just wondering. Because I was able to go see two grandmas today. Sadly, not mine.

Honestly, I’d give just about anything to go visit my grandma. I miss her like crazy. We had a somewhat difficult relationship, seeing that most grandma’s get to just spoil their grand-kids with very little sense of responsibility for character. My own mother in law tries to keep needless spoiling in check, but I can’t fault her for striving for a two-thumbs + both arms + a loud yell “YAY, WE GET TO SPEND THE DAY WITH GRANDMA AND GRANDPA” reaction.  I know this reaction first hand, because my own boys said this today as I was loading them into the car. (Thanks again, Mom and Dad, for boy-sitting this summer while I do my internship!) Anywhoo, back to my grandma. She was a saint (slightly broken), but selfless none the less. She raised my sister and me when my own mother could no longer do the job. So, all the teen year drama? Grandma was dealing with that all over again in her 60′s. The poor lady. Then when my first born was just 5 months old, she passed away. On days like today (when I’m visiting someone else’s grandma ) I would be happy to just pick up the phone and hear her voice again.

Conversations

So, what do you do when you are visiting someone else’s grandma? Here’s what I do: we talk about the weather, the view from her nursing home window. We talk about the precious needlepoint project hanging on the wall. She just might start the same conversation over again after a few minutes. But, really, is that such a bad thing?

“You know, I completed that needlepoint in 1948″.

“Yes, I see the date next to your initials. It’s beautiful! You are very talented. Did your daughter take up needlepoint like you?”

“Yes, she did. Now, SHE is very talented.”

“Oh, I’m sure. She obviously had a good teacher.”

“Well, you know the one over there? I did that in 1948. I worked so hard on it, I just had to keep it.”

“Yes, it’s beautiful. You are very talented…”

The grandma #2 was in need of a little household help before heading into the hospital for back surgery. We talked a bit in between floor mopping and cupboard washing. Her family lives out of state now, and she was ever so thankful to know that she would be coming home to a clean house. Then, she showed us a few tips on how she keeps her goldfish happy. Did you know that goldfish LOVE nibbling away at a thin slice of orange? I didn’t. The wisdom of the ages, obviously. What really strikes me is that $10 worth of goldfish are the pride and joy of this delightful lady.

The Long Process of Grief

I’ll be the first to admit. It’s probably a little easier for me to visit someone else’s grandma than it would be for me to visit my own. First of all, I don’t remember what they were like. I’m not grieving the loss of the “grandma that I used to know”. When I see this little lady (not trying to be discriminatory, there just aren’t a lot of “unattached” grandpas available) she looks like all the rest in “the home”. A little bit of attention brings light to her eyes. We don’t talk about finances. There are no important decisions to be made. I’ll talk about anything with her and we will probably discuss the same thing several times. I’m not concerned with her deteriorating mind, because it seems like a perfectly normal thing for her to experience. But, when it’s “your” grandma… every lapse in memory tears at your heart. Yes, you are losing her. But, if there is ever a time for acceptance and unconditional love – it’s now.

One time my husband’s grandma (almost 94 years old) timed me while I did a word search puzzle. It seems she had been keeping tabs on the different staff people who come in to help her. She had been timing us all. I won, of course. That gave us several visits worth of conversation.

How to know when it’s worth it?

When I was leaving grandma #1 today I took her hands into mine and said, “It was very nice to meet you, Betty. I’d love to come back again sometime.”

She said, “I hope you do… my goodness dear, your hands are so warm!”

I held on just a little longer.

Next time… I’ll start with holding her hands.

Well, in my previous post I shared my struggle with disappointment. The crowds of people who had been following Jesus, especially his closest friends, had the most disappointing week in their lives. They entered Jerusalem together to celebrate the Passover. Jesus entered as a king, a possible savior for their generation. By the end of the week, Jesus had been arrested, tortured, and sentenced to die. Finally on Friday, he died the death of a cursed man and was buried in a borrowed grave. The crowds scattered. In their disappointment, the disciples denied Christ and went into hiding.

Here is what Luke says happened next:

¹ On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. ² They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, ³ but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. ⁴ While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. ⁵ In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? ⁶ He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee…?”  -Luke 24:1-6 NIV

Remember How He Told You?

Oh, that’s right Jesus. I guess I wasn’t really paying attention a few days ago when you said:

“We are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written by the prophets about the Son of Man will be fulfilled. He will be delivered over to the Gentiles. They will mock him, insult him and spit on him; they will flog him and kill him. On the third day he will rise again.” – Luke 18:31

It seems pretty clear to me, but of course I wasn’t marching around the dusty roads with 11 other guys and Jesus. I have little hints in the gospel accounts to help me understand their developing faith – they knew Jesus was a miracle worker, they knew he was a wise man, some of them knew that he definitely was the Messiah, some of them were concerned with finding a good “position” when his kingdom came into power. Honestly, they really don’t sound too different from many of us in the church today. Maybe I should just insert my own voice into the dialog:

Angel: “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you….?”

Me: “Oh, right. I guess I do kind of remember that… I mean, he said all sorts of things. Some of it I just brushed off as being above my head. I figured he would come back and explain it further if it was really that important. I really just thought we would get this whole restoring the kingdom stuff worked out first. It seemed like that was the first priority.”

Angel: “Whose priority?”

Me: “Ummm, well… isn’t that the top priority? I mean, it seems like it is?”

Angel: (eyebrow raised, shaking head side to side) “You know what, how about you just go tell the rest of the disciples and then go ahead to the place he told you to wait for him. I’d better let Him sort this out with you.”

Whose Priority?

We, like the disciples and the all the Jews in Jesus’ time, are so concerned with getting what we need from God for today, tomorrow, and the immediate future. They, understandably, wanted relief from an oppressed life. Their land inhabited by Romans and their culture infiltrated by the Greeks; the Jews knew they weren’t able to freely live the life that God had promised them. On the other hand, we want God’s hand to influence our circumstances so that we can succeed in the lives we have planned for ourselves.

Good Friday is an awesome time to remember that Christ died for our sins. The divine sacrifice for the sins of the world. Praise Him! We have the opportunity to reconcile to our Father through Jesus’ broken body and shed blood.

Easter is is the time to celebrate the resurrection. Jesus conquered death. He was raised in power in order to bring the future hope of residing in God’s glory. The resurrection wasn’t just a chance for God to show off that one time… 2000 years ago. It was an inkling of what He is doing – in us and for the whole of creation. Jesus is telling his disciples – first things first ladies and gents. My kingdom is coming, my reign is being established one heart at a time.

A Fatherly Chat

Father:  “My daughter, I know you didn’t have the father you had hoped for. But don’t give up hope. I gave children parents because the roles of “fatherhood” and “motherhood” are a hint of what it is like to be loved like me. I have placed into the hearts of mothers and fathers just a bit of the love that I have for you. Unfortunately, (as you know from your experiences as a daughter and a mother) some mothers and fathers don’t quite know how to put that love to good use. Some do better than others, but none are perfect. And you… you hoped that a good father would have made everything right for your life. It certainly would have helped! But, you see, I’m still able to reveal my fatherly love to you in many different ways. And soon, when we meet face to face you will understand the fullness of my love. Between you and me, even if you had “the best” father in the whole world, his love still would just be a small expression of my own. For, I am the masterful Creator. My people and my created world are are just little brush strokes. Every effort of my creation has meaning and purpose as it expresses just a little bit of my character and love.”

Me: “So, you mean I have to keep waiting? Even that is disappointing – so exhausting, such a let down.”

Father:  “Yes, keep waiting. But, reset your “expectations” to “anticipation”. Because, little love, expectations come from your desires. Some of them are good, but some of them… well, they are born out of misunderstanding. Instead, anticipate that I will provide for you the things that you need, as I always have. Anticipation comes from trusting in my character and faithfulness. I will continue to express my love for you and through you. You play a part in this masterpiece as well, for you are my workmanship (Ephesians 2:10). And, you are making this world more and more beautiful.”

Me: _____________. (humbled, speechless, in awe)

Resurrection Hope

Only in the presence of an artist can the techniques and creative intent be truly revealed. We look at art and try to figure out what it means to us. (Thankfully, many talented artists have generously give us the opportunity to do so!) But, when we are face to face with an artist, they tell us what their creation means to them. Perhaps, this is why we don’t value our world as much as we would like to. We just can’t get over what it means to us…so much so that we are slowly destroying it with our good but generally selfish intentions.

Here’s what John reported when he had a chance to interview The Artist:

¹ Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. ² I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. ³ And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ⁴ He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

⁵ He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” – Revelation 21:1-5

Amen and Amen. Let it be so! Come Lord and finish your great work in us!

Today is Palm Sunday. Hopefully you will all have the chance to declare “Hosanna, in the Highest” if you attend church today. I remember as a teen going to church with my grandma. On Palm Sunday we would all get a small cross made from a piece of palm. The vicar would lead his small congregation in a procession around the outside of the church. As we marched, every now and then we would hold our palms up high and proclaim “Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord”. This is definitely one of the most intriguing memories I have from my early search for God.

Palm Sunday is such an exciting tradition, we get to join the crowds that met Jesus as he prepared to enter Jerusalem before Passover. He was there out of obedience to his Father, knowing that there was nothing but trouble awaiting him once he entered the city. I wonder how it felt for him to look at the cheering crowds – those enthusiastic men, women, and children lavishing him with a king’s welcome. The hope-ometer was very high. They had seen miraculous healings, signs, and wonders. Jesus had stood up to demons for them – casting them out in the same way that an older brother might roll up his sleeves and knock-down a neighborhood bully. Jesus preached the presence of the Kingdom of God in their midst… it was theirs for the taking. Being so conscious of all the messianic prophecies, Jesus must have known (even as he received their praise) they would all fall away.

Learning not to Hope

To be perfectly honest, I’m not even sure I would have been a part of the crowd that day. I suffer from… disappointment. Without getting too personal, we’ll just say that my early childhood taught me the lesson that it’s easier on the heart not to let my hopes get too high. Tempering hope is one way to battle against the extreme pain of disappointment. Hopes dashed. Love lost. The constant reminder that if anything good was going to happen, it was going to be the fruit of my own effort. I could trust no one else to look out for my tender heart. This, of course, is how over-achievers are made.

There are, however, some good things about this coping method. Because hope and expectations are often linked, I’m fairly easy to please. I have no illusion that life is going to be perfect. My husband can attest to the fact that if there is a “worst-case scenario”, I’ve already predicted and planned for it. Of course, the down-side is that I miss out on some of the joy that comes with anticipation. For example, when we took our boys to Disneyland a couple of years ago, I didn’t crack a smile until we were actually in the air flying to California. I wasn’t going to let some last minute travel glitch dash the little bit of hope I had for my boys’ and my first trip to the Magic Kingdom. I calmly figured I’d celebrate when I could see the whites of Mickey’s eyes.

After many years of counseling and the healing love of my very dear husband, I guess I can say I’m in recovery. And because I’m recovering from disappointment, when I read the Holy Week/Passion accounts in the gospels I find them particularly uncomfortable. You see, I’m anticipating the extreme disappointment of the people. On Sunday, they thought a new era was on the horizon. Yet, by Friday afternoon, the King of the Jews was nailed to a tree. Cursed of men. Rejected.

Defending the Heart

One of my biggest sources of disappointment was waiting for my dad to come visit me on “his” weekend. I was ten years old and living with my grandparents at the time. My dad had actually fought for custody rights for the first time in 7 years. He did not win custody, but was granted weekend visitation rights twice a month. It seemed to me that a whole new era of paternal relationship was on the horizon and my hopes were very high. Then, sadly, every other Saturday morning I would stare out the window. I would spend hours looking down the long country road that passed in front of my grandmother’s house, waiting to see my father’s car on the horizon. For some reason, though he fought the battle to be in my life, he had a hard time actually bringing me into his. Even with phone call reminders and promises made, I think he only came to see me once or twice. Eventually I grew embarrassed with myself that I even expected him to come. I stopped waiting, only indulging my hope every now and then with a quick glance up the road. I adopted the attitude that he was missing out, not me. I had other things to do with my time. My grandma couldn’t stand to watch my heart break and called the whole thing off. My father didn’t turn out to be the person I had hoped he would be.

I have a feeling that the crowds of people calling out Jesus’ name must have felt the same pain. They waved branches to a triumphant Messiah, only to find out that he was just another man by the end of the week. Maybe the defiant mutterings of the teachers of the law were right. How could he let us treat him like a king? How cruel. How deflating. I’ll never hope again.

Seems to me, that if a person is going to put up a fight for someone else, they should have the guts to see it through to the end. What gives, Jesus? Why go to the trouble if you just plan on leaving our hearts in our hands? What about you, Dad?

And so, we wait for an answer.

Palm Cross photo by Colin Patterson on Flick’r. http://flic.kr/p/4yvGHH

Well, today is Ash Wednesday the beginning of the Lenten season. I couldn’t miss the opportunity to post on this very special day. I’ve tried to make this an intentional season of spiritual growth the past few years and now I find I really look forward to it. In case you are just exploring the idea of celebrating Lent, here are a couple of devotional books I enjoy revisiting:

Walter Wangerin,Jr., Reliving the Passion: Meditations on the Suffering Death and Resurrection of Jesus as Recorded in Mark

Henri J.M. Nouwen, Show Me the Way: Daily Lenten Readings

There are seasons in our lives where self-indulgence, pride, and general pre-occupation with our own selves can begin to take hold of our hearts. This churns the soil of our hearts and prepares the ground for the seedling of worldly filth to take root: anger, rage, hatred, prejudice, the list goes on. Lent is a season to deny ourselves of these man made attitudes and reflect on God. We humble ourselves so the Master Gardener can dig up these winter weeds and prepare us for His plantings. Nouwen’s words this morning really spoke to me – he put it this way:

“The season of Lent, during which winter and spring struggle with each other for dominance, helps us in a special way to cry out for God’s mercy”.

As we look out our windows on these very gray days speckled with cloud clearing sun bursts, how can we not agree?

Blessings, friends. I hope you will consider how you can join in on this special season. Are you going to give up anything for Lent? Or maybe you have another way you prefer to participate in the season? I would enjoy hearing your thoughts.

Photo courtesy of Amarand Agasi for public use on Flick’r. http://flic.kr/p/5ycwrT

I’ve come to realize that grief is an under appreciated emotion. Certainly it is painful, inconvenient, and sometimes overwhelming. However, I really believe that it provides an opportunity for growth.  Whenever I have allowed myself to fully grieve – to hurt, and ache, and wonder what might have been… all the while accepting that things are as they are – I’ve stretched my heart.

How to fill a stretched out Heart

With thankfulness for the opportunity to be touched by a beautiful life.

With inspiration to see our own lives to become a blessing for the future generation.

With respect for the unyielding call of eternity.

With love for one another.

Courage to love Again

I’m sure we have all heard the phrase, “It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” (Tennyson) Of course, these are the things we tell ourselves when we are out of the immediately painful season of grief. You know, when the muscles surrounding our heavy hearts have firmed up a bit, and it’s a little easier to carry the load. This is the time of grief when we are able to set our sights on the things ahead. Our peripheral vision once again comes into view. We can slowly begin to pour all the thankfulness, inspiration, respect, and love we have gained into another life.

Can grief be taught?

As a mother I have the privilege of teaching my children many things. Some of the more honorable life lessons I’ve been a part of are: how to share, how to delight over a brand new baby, how to be a good friend, and how to give of yourself for the benefit of another. A lesson on grief and loss should really be viewed with the same honor. I want my boys to know that we can celebrate and respect both life and death.

I’ll be telling my children about the loss of a dear woman today. Our friend, the principal of their elementary school, passed away after losing her battle with cancer a few days ago. We were on a short trip when I found out, so while I have had a chance to begin grieving, husby and I decided to wait until we were home to share the news with them. In case you are wondering, the pounding waves and fierce winter winds of the Oregon coast create an excellent place to shed some tears. Your children can happily kick at sea foam, chase gulls and never notice your broken heart (really, whose eyes aren’t watery when you are out on the beach in February?).

I know their little hearts will be stretched because Mrs. Murphy was truly a beautiful woman. Despite her year and a half long illness, she came to work every day she was able. She gave herself to our children generously. She was always thankful for our parental support. She encouraged our children to give their best efforts in school and all of life. While we are thankful that she is finally in comfort and peace, we will miss her very, very much.

Well, I am back into the thick of school work. I’ve been reading up a storm and have added a handful of post ideas to my list. If only I had a few extra minutes to really sit down and put my thoughts into form. Some day. I’ll just keep chipping away and keep you posted when it does happen.

I did have a day off with my boys on Monday. Thank goodness for teacher in-service days. I love my boys’ teachers and think they are all rock stars. So if they need a day off for training, I’m happy to give it to them. Of course, I also have some ulterior motives. A teacher work day in January translates to mom and sons ski day. No traffic, short lift lines, and Monday we were blessed with good snow and dry weather!

The Family that Plays together…

My boys have been skiing for a few years now, so they are pretty good. Just competent enough to carry their skis in from the parking lot, use the bathroom without their dad’s help in getting all their snow gear back on, and make it down the slope in one piece. Now, to clarify, they are actually quite capable on their skis. If we stayed on the intermediate runs, we could ski all day with out problems. However, they insist on taking me into the tiniest, iciest tree trails that can be found on the mountain. By God’s grace alone I haven’t taken them out as they dart around on their short little skis. I’m sliding around behind them with skis just short enough to make the hairpin turns necessary to stay alive. Still, I haven’t embarrassed them so much that they don’t want me with them. My youngest did make the observation the other day, “moms sure say ‘be careful’ a lot.” Yes, son, we do. And if I didn’t have to literally save your life about every 15 minutes I might someday stop.

I realize that skiing isn’t going to cut it for every family, what with the high priced lift tickets and daily opportunity for broken bones. Yes, for some it is a turn off. However, I hope you will all consider a recreational activity that the whole family can enjoy (note, skiing is not enjoyable for the parents for the first couple of  years. But with time and hot chocolate bribery the kids will eventually grow to love it, and then parents can enjoy it again). Safety, fitness, and economic factors should be considered. But just be sure that the activity you choose gives each member of the family an opportunity for self-humiliation. This is where true bonding begins. My boys will literally tear up with joy when my husband and I tumble off of the top of an icy mogul. They will come to our aid, of course. But usually we are also laughing (please, adults, wear a helmet!) in spite of ourselves. And as often as possible, let your kids take the lead. This actually works well in skiing, because we can let the kids make their way down the mountain to the designated “stopping” point. Then we can blast down like slalom racers and impress the kids with our sweet moves (*please see previous sentence about moguls).

The Skiers Psalm

I have always struggled with memorizing scripture. But there is a Psalm that I can’t help but recite as we are riding the chair lift and taking a moment to gaze out at the beauty of God’s creation.

Psalm 121 (New International Version)

A song of ascents.

¹ I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
² My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.

³ He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;
⁴ indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.

⁵ The LORD watches over you—
the LORD is your shade at your right hand;
⁶ the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.

⁷ The LORD will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;
⁸ the LORD will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.

I just wanted to leave you with this thought, friends. Our God delights in surrounding us with His presence. Growing up here in the great northwest, I’ve grown accustomed to the presence of the Cascade Mountains. They are ever present. Just a glance over my eastern-most shoulder and they are there. Granted, they are often enshrouded by a cloud. But with a little patience and effort, I could drive right up and touch them. Certainly, living in the foothills for most of my life, I sometimes forget that my home is firmly rooted on their foundations. And isn’t that the truth about God’s presence in our lives? Though some days He seems to be surrounded by a cloud and out of our vision, we are supported by His firm foundation of ever present love.

“Encore, Encore, Encore” photo for public use on Flick’r. http://flic.kr/p/7wZpPM

Today was the first day that the Puget Sound region has seen the sun, in a loooong time. Of course this is not much of a surprise. As a native Washingtonian, I have grown accustomed to 100 day stretches of overcast, drippy weather. However, this winter has been a doosy. I’ve been hearing a lot of rain laments even from long-time residents.  How many of you can agree with me, in the middle of a dreary northwest winter, a speck of sunshine will literally stop people in their tracks? People might even congregate in a spot of sun on the sidewalk, just to feel it’s bright warmth!

Sadly, my son stayed home from school today recovering from a bout with the flu. Neither one of us was able to experience today’s warm weather gift. As I mentioned in my “What’s this about Holy Leisure?” post, I did take full advantage of this sick day. I wore my pajamas until well past noon and caught up on my reading. I also took a few moments to soak in the sun through my big picture window. This reminded me of a childhood memory that has a lot of meaning to me.

A Memory of God’s Presence

When I was young I lived with my grandparents and sister on a small farm in a rural area of western Washington. One morning I was playing by myself outside in our gravel driveway. I remember sitting on a small patch of grass and weeds playing with the rocks. I’m not sure why I was out there, but I often would go out in the morning and enjoy the sounds of the farm waking up. To be honest, I probably had been sent out there to do some chore and was dilly-dallying. I just remember sitting there with the sun warming my back and shoulders. It was a quiet moment – I felt very pleased and content.

About 10 years after this memory, I was a young college student. I had recently come to faith and was in prayer with God about some very difficult times in my past. I was asking Him, “Why weren’t you there with me? Why did I have to go through all of that alone?”. He answered me by bringing back this memory. It’s as though God was saying to me, “I was the sun on your shoulders, you were not alone.” This vivid memory literally warmed me through to my core.

So, if you are feeling alone. Remember there is never a time when God is not near. If  you need to feel like He is there. Find a speck of sun and let it rest on your shoulders. Turn to God and He will not disappoint you.

Think for a moment about Moses. He desperately wanted to see the glory of  the LORD. The LORD, knowing that Moses could not survive a face to face encounter with holiness, devised a plan. He placed Moses in a cleft of a rock and covered Moses. Just as the LORD passed by, He uncovered Moses. Moses was able to catch a quick glimpse of the LORD’s backside, and heard the LORD exclaim, “The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin…”. (Exodus 34:6-7)

Our God is awesome and holy. He understands our need to feel His presence. Sometimes we will get a glimpse of His mighty splendor. Sometimes, we can feel the warmth of the sun and remember that the creator of the heavens and the earth is near.

Photo by Guy Schmidt on Flick’r. http://flic.kr/p/7LxWf3

I’m going out on a limb with this post, I know. But, I can’t help it. I’ve been thinking about the Seattle Seahawks wildcard victory over the New Orleans Saints the past few days. I just can’t get over the 67 yard run by Marshawn Lynch that ushered the Seahawks into the play-offs. S0, you ask, what could we possibly learn from watching NFL football? I submit to you that watching football (and hockey for that matter) is a perfectly acceptable recreational activity. At the very least you can get a few high-cardio work-outs when your team makes a touchdown or receives an unfair penalty. The standing, jumping, and fist-pumping most certainly will boost heart rates. I also hope to convince you that supporting your local team can be a pursuit of leisure – meditation on the struggle of humanity.

Surrounded and Entangled

At the beginning of the play, it seemed like it would be just another run into the mob at the line of scrimmage. I’ve often been impatient with the typical 1 or 2 yard running play. It just seems like such a waste to run straight at those snarling defenders. But one day my husband told me that the offense is hoping to poke a hole in the line of defense so that the running back can slide through. So, as I watched Lynch begin his run, I wasn’t surprised that he ran smack into what seemed to be a brick wall of linemen. The interesting thing is that he just kind of slid off their backs, finding the path of least resistance until he finally made it through the line. At this point a whole new play began. Lynch was no longer rushing for a first down, the goal line was in view.

[I apologize, my imbedded video was disabled by YouTube. I recommend http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBHk9rc4hHc]

This is also where I think we would benefit from pairing our video with Paul’s letter to the Romans. Take a look at chapter 12, verse 1: “since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us…”. Indeed Lynch was surrounded and you can see he is shaking Saint defenders off, like a dog who has just come out of the water. I love it!

Just when Lynch has made it through the crowd, we see a lone cornerback, Tracy Porter, come into view. Isn’t that just the way of life? You’ve made it through some struggle – marriage problems, financial stress, career dissatisfaction, illness… and just when you think you are in the clear it comes back into view. Here is where we need to take a lesson from Marshawn Lynch.

How to Throw a Stiff-Arm

Please rewind and watch the video at least a few times to get this down.

1) Check your peripheral vision every now and then.

2) Take the threat seriously.

3) Get mad!

4) Throw out your arm fiercely until the disturbance is flat on it’s back and in your dust.

I think the pivotal moment in our hero’s scenario is #3. He got mad! Let’s just imagine the words that were going through Lynch’s head at this moment…

“Nope. Denied. Sorry, I’ve got an appointment with the end zone. This is not going to happen.”

Okay, I admit, there are plenty of scenarios in our lives where a stiff arm will not solve our problems. I also think there are plenty of problems we allow to side-track us, all because of a lack of determination. Most of these problems have to do with our lack of self-discipline. Here are a few examples from my own life: weight-gain, debt, and unhealthy relationships due to lack of boundaries. Just when I was making progress in my life, one of these would rear it’s head and try to knock me out of the game. Usually I would have forgotten to check my peripherals – am I heading the right direction, is there trouble on the horizon?

But then, I got mad. Just like the voice of the NFL announcer, I said “Get off Me!’ That’s right, I was sick and tired of being sick and tired and out went my arm. This is how a person grows to maturity. We learn how to identify those things that have a tendency to trip us, we deal with them, and then move toward the goal.

Overcoming a Losing Record

Maybe a losing record isn’t such a bad thing. Most of the nation was laughing at the Seahawks because they entered the playoffs with a less than stellar record.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (James 1:2-4)

That’s right, we can be thankful for all the crud we have mucked through in our lives. If we have experienced trials and then taken the time to work through them, we should be able to see little seasons of growth and maturity in our lives. Not only that, mix that growth and maturity with some hope and you have a ravenously hungry football team on your hands.

So, with that I charge the Seahawks and Hawk fans everywhere:

Have Hope! We’ve made it through the playoffs before! We can do it again! Go Team!

For those of you more interested in the struggle of humanity:

“And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.  Not only so, but wealso rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance;  perseverance, character; and character, hope.  And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.” (Romans 5:2-5)

I have a friend who is currently embarking on a new lifestyle. Dog owner. Actually, she is sharing custody of a dog with a friend of hers who has begun to travel for work. So, in a way, this is a very good situation for both families, and the dog! First of all, I’m going to say that the dog she is caring for is just about the sweetest and most mild tempered dog I’ve ever met. She is curious, gentle, and enjoys interacting with the family. I think it helps that this little dog is 6 years old. My friend doesn’t realize the gold mine that she has stumbled upon. She has never owned a dog before and has been very intrigued by the fact that this dog seems very satisfied with just a little bit of attention and acceptance into their family. The dog is content to learn how to please her owners with obedience and gentle affection. Obviously, what we have here is a well-trained dog who has been taught good boundaries.

Well, in response to my friend’s new found pet-friendship, I’ve decided to write a post about some of my very deep thoughts on pet ownership.

The Value of Pets

Maybe you are wondering, what does pet ownership have to do with anything spiritual? Well, first of all, our pets are an awe-inspiring part of God’s creation. I’m saying this with all seriousness. The idea that dogs came from wild beasts and then have been domesticated (into all sorts of shapes, sizes, and temperaments) doesn’t take away from the fact that God masterfully pieced together the original wolf. Powerful, smart, and beautiful – He even decided to endow wolves with the potential for domestication. (Fyi – any of you who want to argue about evolution, natural selection, blah, blah, blah… whatever. This is not my intent for this post, so send me your thoughts and we’ll save them for another day. Maybe.) I think the word “potential” really is the crux of this conversation. Why would God give some animals the potential for domestication?

Well, there is something to be said about domesticated animals providing ancient people with an additional resource for survival. It is also worth mentioning that some dogs are known to provide protection. I think, however, over-riding reason that God enabled wolves to be domesticated is for the blessing of companionship. I cannot even begin to explain the comfort and joy I have experienced through my relationships with my family dogs over the years.

A Friend at All Times

How many times have you read the paper, watched the news, or stumbled upon a TV show that featured a pet-owner explaining the near miracles their dogs have performed. I’ve heard of dogs rescuing people from burning homes, scaring away burglars, staying with lost children… I even heard a story the other day that a certain lady’s dog can alert her when her blood sugar is dangerously low. These amazing creatures do so much to bless their families, I’m sure we don’t even know the half of it. I know for a fact that my dog has made it his mission to rid our yard of moles by personally excavating every mole hill. To top it off, they don’t require much in return. Food, water, shelter, exercise, and some training (to teach them manners and give them a job) are really not too much for them to ask.

When our dogs aren’t trying to serve their families in heroic ways (they will find a job for themselves – you can either assign the job through training, or they will find a hole to dig… all for the sake of their family), their soft faces and unconditional love can bring immeasurable blessings to a soul. Every time I walk in the door, I only have to wait a moment before I receive a furry, tail-wagging greeting. George, my husky mix, often bellows an energetic howl when we enter the house. In quiet times, especially when I’m doing homework, I’ll often look up and notice that my dog has curled up on my feet, providing warmth and affection when I’m not even noticing. Many of you can vouch for me on this one, how many times have your tears been washed away by a gentle tongue or muzzle?

Amazingly, our pets just give and give of themselves, asking very little in return. And often, when life is busy, we offer very little to them. Somehow they never seem to hold a grudge.

I want to mention a difficult thing now. My family recently had our sweet and beautiful German Shepherd, Greta, put to sleep. She had injured her leg and was in pain. We didn’t feel that the proposed surgery was in her best interest, so we had to let her go. My grief over the loss of her presence in our lives is very deep. Any of you who know me, I’m sure you can imagine the slobbery mess that I am while I sit here writing.

Dogs are not Humans

Having felt the emotional blessings of my dogs’ companionship, I can say with complete conviction that they are not human. They are not even human-like. Some of you might be saying, “but, my Fido is like a son to me!” If that’s true, you have completely missed what, I believe, is God’s purpose for our pet’s lives. The truth is, unconditional love and complete devotion, are completely un-human concepts. We do not have the capacity to pour ourselves out for one another in such a way. Honestly, if I had a friend who treated me the way my dogs treat me, I’d probably think she was emotionally unstable. Even with our best efforts, at some point our selfish natures will cause us to fail. Our dogs are hard-wired by God for these displays. Dogs display a “pack-oriented” nature and respect for “alpha” position that enable them to provide loyalty and selflessness. We receive this behavior in terms that we understand, love and devotion. Our dogs are not meant to be compared to our children. They are, however, meant to display a creative imprint of God’s character.

Creation Displays God’s Character

“For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made…” Romans 1:20 (New American Standard Bible)

I have found much spiritual encouragement considering the awesomeness of God in light of his beautiful creation. Majestic peaks speak of his enduring power. The new spring blooms speak to my heart of His thoughtful and creative blessings. My dogs remind me that whether or not I deserve it, His love is there for me.

Every morning as I’m waking up, I slide my hand out from under the covers over the side of my bed. All I have to do is rub my fingers quietly together and there will soon be a furry head (or bottom?) under my hand. A slow, quiet wag and cheerful eyes say, “good morning, I thought you’d never get up!” What a fantastic reminder to tuck away. If my dog looks forward to an intimate moment in the morning, how much more does my Heavenly Father look forward to another day with me?!

In honor of my sweet Greta, I submit to you this plea:

Don’t treat your dogs as though they are human. Treat them with the proper dignity deserving all of God’s creation. Enjoy them, take care of them, and look for God’s blessings as a result of their lives.