Monday, November 7, 2011
Cookbook swap: which one do I donate?
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Ready?
I saw Roxanna, my hairdresser, today. And as often happens, God used us in each other's lives to speak His wisdom and encouragement into the other's life in one of those rare quiet moments of her normally very busy salon. It was like God brought a calm to the comings and goings and for the first time in months there weren't other women close at hand waiting to be rinsed or cut or processed -- it was just us, trying to figure out how to be godly women in this very ungodly world.
This time it was her turn to do the questioning and my turn to encourage, but it's been the other way around plenty of times. I'll never forget the afternoon I came to her choking back sobs about a crisis in my life. As she began to wash my hair, she stopped and said, "I feel like God is telling me to pray for you right now. May I do that?" And she did, right there, with my head in the bowl. And when we walked back to her chair, my wet hair wrapped in a towel, I felt like a heavy burden had been lifted from my shoulders.
That's what God calls us to do for each other -- to be encouragers, to be ministers of His Word and His grace and love.
We never know when God will call on us to minister to someone. We try to plan it, in our human-ness -- "I think I'll serve the homeless next Sunday morning" -- and maybe it happens, maybe it doesn't.
But one thing is guaranteed. The most powerful way God can use us is the way we least expect it. Like in the chair of a hair salon.
So... will you be ready when He asks?
This time it was her turn to do the questioning and my turn to encourage, but it's been the other way around plenty of times. I'll never forget the afternoon I came to her choking back sobs about a crisis in my life. As she began to wash my hair, she stopped and said, "I feel like God is telling me to pray for you right now. May I do that?" And she did, right there, with my head in the bowl. And when we walked back to her chair, my wet hair wrapped in a towel, I felt like a heavy burden had been lifted from my shoulders.
That's what God calls us to do for each other -- to be encouragers, to be ministers of His Word and His grace and love.
We never know when God will call on us to minister to someone. We try to plan it, in our human-ness -- "I think I'll serve the homeless next Sunday morning" -- and maybe it happens, maybe it doesn't.
But one thing is guaranteed. The most powerful way God can use us is the way we least expect it. Like in the chair of a hair salon.
So... will you be ready when He asks?
Monday, September 26, 2011
Shanda's investment
When I found out my co-worker Shanda’s sweet little toddler
died so unexpectedly Saturday night, I was dumbfounded. Then devastated. How could this happen. . . and why? It didn’t, and still doesn’t, feel
real.
I remembered how much Shanda loved little Bailey, and how
much Bailey was like her. So sweet
and gentle.
Her death is incomprehensible to me. In my mind, I know God is good,
merciful, is wise and compassionate.
I know that He sees globally, not only in the small realms that I live
in. I know He has Bailey in His
loving arms, and He weeps with her parents as they grieve her loss.
But it’s so hard not to wonder why little Bailey wouldn’t
have been better left with her parents on this earth longer than the couple of
years she was here.
I wonder -- how would we react if we were told ahead of time
how long we would have our children?
If we had a different name, if Mommy really meant Caretaker,
knowing that our role was important but temporary and only for the span of say, two years, or perhaps eighteen years or maybe twenty-six – would we do things
differently?
Would we hold our children more and blow off their annoying
questions less?
Would we listen to them with both ears and our minds instead
of saying, “Oh, what?”
Would we encourage more than criticize?
Would we get irritated as often?
Would we want to put that computer game in their hands, or
instead, would we invest more of ourselves into their lives?
Would we cuddle them as we read a bedtime story instead of
yawning and making excuses?
The truth is, none of us knows our time allotment. So why are we wasting any time doing
anything other than the things we know to be right and good?
That’s one thing that brings me comfort: Shanda can rest in the fact that she was a
great mommy to Bailey.
She invested wisely.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Epic...
“Epic fail”
Aren’t you so cool if you use those words in a presentation,
or a blog (like I have, shamelessly!), or on a TV show. That’s the IN phrase right now.
But it’s not so cool if you are the beneficiary of those
words, right? Then it’s more like Epic despair.
I’m thinking of
that movie Elizabethtown, where the main guy has failed miserably -- and
publicly --at his life’s goal of creating THE perfect sneaker. We witness his epic failure and his
epic despair. It plays at our
heartstrings -- but still, it’s entertainment.
Strange sort of
entertainment . . . but it’s safe.
It’s someone else’s misery.
And after all, it’s just a made up story.
Or is it?
Well . . . yes,
that particular story is made up.
But what about your own epic fail?
And my epic fail? We have
them, you know. Those times in our
lives that we are oh so willing to put behind us, to remember vaguely as
that-hard-time-soooooo-long-ago-but-everything’s-good-now. So many of us (like me) want to deny
that we are anything less than “just fine” and that anything painful or bad has
happened .
Yet . . . how
silly are we? Most of the time
it’s obvious to everyone but us.
Like the alcoholic who admits his addiction to his best friend who has
been praying for him for years, our epic fails and despairs aren’t going to be
the secrets we think they are.
They are written all over our lives in one way or another.
But what God
wants us to do with them is not hide them, but use them for His good: “Blessed be the God and Father of our
Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of Mercies and God of all comfort; who comforts
us in all our affliction so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any
affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” II
Corinthians 1:3,4.
The God of all comfort and mercy will take care of our hurts, no matter how deep they go. And when the time is right,
he wants us to share our cup of comfort with others who need it.
And that feels
so much more right than denying those hurts ever existed.
It feels like
epic joy.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
I always listen to worship music on the way to work and try to pray for my kids, my husband, the day. . . you know -- life. I've got my Ipod set to a worship playlist that keeps getting longer and longer every month. But something weird happened a couple days ago, and it happened again today.
My "shuffled" playlist kept returning to a certain song both days, within five or so minutes of each other. The song was "God is Able".
The first time I heard it repeated, I thought, Hmmm. That's weird. Did I have that set right?
I did. The song wasn't looped, and the playlist was still on shuffle. Weird.
Then it replayed as I neared my school. -- What? I'm hearing this song for a third time in thirty minutes? How can that be?
And then I thought about the words: God is with us, God is on our side, He will make a way... our God is able.
Ohhh.....yeah. I hear you, Lord.
He knew how tense I was. He knew how I needed to give everything to Him.
Because I sure can't handle my burdens.
But He is able.
---Teresa
My "shuffled" playlist kept returning to a certain song both days, within five or so minutes of each other. The song was "God is Able".
The first time I heard it repeated, I thought, Hmmm. That's weird. Did I have that set right?
I did. The song wasn't looped, and the playlist was still on shuffle. Weird.
Then it replayed as I neared my school. -- What? I'm hearing this song for a third time in thirty minutes? How can that be?
And then I thought about the words: God is with us, God is on our side, He will make a way... our God is able.
Ohhh.....yeah. I hear you, Lord.
He knew how tense I was. He knew how I needed to give everything to Him.
Because I sure can't handle my burdens.
But He is able.
---Teresa
Monday, July 25, 2011
Pure worship
Sometimes my daughter's childlike joy in her Father leaves me speechless. Like last night.
Kristen, Rick and I went with our youngest daughter, Sarah, to her church in her college town. The worship was just that -- worshipful. Kristen was by my side, clinging to my arm, not able to read the words on the screen, but fully a part of the mood of the room, excited by what she was witnessing. At times I would turn to her, especially on repetitive parts of the songs, and sing so that maybe she would sing along, but she didn't. She would smile into my eyes with a huge, toothy smile and nod. Her delight added to my own worship experience.
And then came the song, The Stand. I love that song. If done right, it's so moving, so climactic and says exactly what my heart wants to tell the Lord. That I stand with arms high and heart abandoned, in awe of the one who gave it all. I shifted Kristen's tight hold of my right arm and I grasped her hand with my left one, because I knew I wanted to raise my arm when I sang those words.
The church sang the song quietly, reverently, the college kids around us raising their hands, nodding, praying, gently rocking to the crescendoing beat of the anthem. The chorus finally arrived, and I raised my arm as I sang the words, and beside me Kristen joyfully, wordlessly, raised her arm high as well.
I looked at her to see if she did this to mimic me, or what -- and was surprised. She had so much joy on her face. She looked at me, her smile so big and her posture uninhibited, as if saying, isn't this great? Tears sprang to my eyes. This was pure worship. She did not sing the words, but she took it all in and the words reverberated in her soul.
I couldn't sing the words, either. I could only whisper them and be grateful for the gift of this special adult child who allows me to see little glimpses of heaven at times like this.
I'll stand
With arms high and heart abandoned
In awe of the one who gave it all
I'll stand
My soul Lord to you surrendered
All I am is yours
Kristen, Rick and I went with our youngest daughter, Sarah, to her church in her college town. The worship was just that -- worshipful. Kristen was by my side, clinging to my arm, not able to read the words on the screen, but fully a part of the mood of the room, excited by what she was witnessing. At times I would turn to her, especially on repetitive parts of the songs, and sing so that maybe she would sing along, but she didn't. She would smile into my eyes with a huge, toothy smile and nod. Her delight added to my own worship experience.
And then came the song, The Stand. I love that song. If done right, it's so moving, so climactic and says exactly what my heart wants to tell the Lord. That I stand with arms high and heart abandoned, in awe of the one who gave it all. I shifted Kristen's tight hold of my right arm and I grasped her hand with my left one, because I knew I wanted to raise my arm when I sang those words.
The church sang the song quietly, reverently, the college kids around us raising their hands, nodding, praying, gently rocking to the crescendoing beat of the anthem. The chorus finally arrived, and I raised my arm as I sang the words, and beside me Kristen joyfully, wordlessly, raised her arm high as well.
I looked at her to see if she did this to mimic me, or what -- and was surprised. She had so much joy on her face. She looked at me, her smile so big and her posture uninhibited, as if saying, isn't this great? Tears sprang to my eyes. This was pure worship. She did not sing the words, but she took it all in and the words reverberated in her soul.
I couldn't sing the words, either. I could only whisper them and be grateful for the gift of this special adult child who allows me to see little glimpses of heaven at times like this.
I'll stand
With arms high and heart abandoned
In awe of the one who gave it all
I'll stand
My soul Lord to you surrendered
All I am is yours
(Hillsong United)
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Reading posts from members of my church who are in Vietnam spreading God's love to those who have never experienced it reminds me of the summer of 2005 when I went to Russia. I went to a small town outside of Chelny, a town whose name I can't begin to spell but it sounds like Nizh-na-kamps. It's something I'll never forget, that's for sure, even though I can't master the spelling of the town. Eleven days of blow-my-hair-back-God-what-are-you-doing-here-questions, being put in situations I never dreamed of, being stretched spiritually like I was a piece of play-doh being molded almost hourly.
It was awesome. And not for the faint of heart.
God had to prepare me beforehand, as only He can, so that I could face the demands put upon me. And there were a lot. I was the only woman who went to my town on my team of four. The other women on the mission team were in other towns in Russia.
I was also the only newbie on my team -- the only member who had never been on a mission trip before. It was even my first trip outside the U.S.!
Once we got to our little town, after almost three days travel on plane, train and van, we slept briefly in our hotel after being greeted by a contingent of the church we were there to serve. Then that evening we were taken to a market, where we paid for roasted chicken, tomatoes, cucumbers, cheese and bread and took it to have picnic-style by the river while we met our translators and the pastors of the church and heard their assignments for us.
The four of us knew we would evangelize, though unfortunately our team leader had not brought our Evangicubes from the U.S. We would have to rely on the spoken word through our translators. I was blissfully ignorant about this, but it bothered the others, I could tell.
The pastors informed us that we would be doing street evangelism, and that we would also be holding sessions at night in a restaurant that we would be inviting people to during the day -- sessions where one of the guys would present the gospel and then there would be a question/answer time. Perhaps all week. We would see.
Also, we were to go to visit an orphanage, a special needs center, and a cultural center. And the church itself would gather and have a special baptism in the river and a picnic to follow.
And then they looked at me. You, Teresa, you we want to speak to the women at the laundromat.
Laundromat?
Well, as it turns out, it's not the Kwik Wash variety that we have here in the states. And the assistant pastor worked there during the week and had witnessed to the 7 or 8 women on staff there. To no avail. So it was up to ME to convince them about Jesus.
No pressure there.
Oh, and the next night I was to address the women of the church. Tell them how to behave.
Oh my gosh . . . are you kidding me? I thought.
And during the day, lots of street evangelizing.
My knees, even as I sat on the banks of that river, felt like they were buckling underneath me.
But still I smiled and nodded. Sure, I said.
That evening as I prepared for bed I prayed God would help me. Because I was SOOOO not up for this. What in the world was I doing here? God had sent the wrong person. Beth Moore should have come instead of me. I felt like a weak little kitten when I should have been a roaring lion ready to go out and gather some souls for the Lord. I read and read God's word, took notes long into the night, trying to come up with what I was going to say to both groups of women and -- oh yeah, all those people along the street! I woke up extra early, the Russian sun streaming onto my face at four in the morning. That's when I started sobbing -- I couldn't even get any sleep, much less catch a break around here. I was at my wit's end.
But that's where God wanted me -- totally dependent upon Him.
I remember kneeling, crying, being so homesick, so regretting that I'd come to this demanding country. "I can't do this, Lord."
I don't know how long it took me to realize that I felt better. I crawled back into my bed knowing everything was going to be not just fine, but . . . taken care of.
And it was. God took my burden upon His shoulders, where it should have been all along. The Holy Spirit is a much better speaker than I am, and He did the speaking for me when I spoke to the ladies at the laundromat, and later in the week, when I spoke to the ladies of the church (that was by far the harder of the two!). And street evangelizing? It was easier than I thought, because I just allowed God's love to come through every fiber of my being every time I spoke to someone. Not that it wasn't challenging. And there were so many challenges! But each time someone turned away, it wasn't about me. It was about their rejection of God, and it made me sad for them. And when I had to speak impromptu in public on more than one occasion, I could do it, because I was empowered by the Most Powerful One!
How many people were saved? One. My translator.
Praise God for Kate's redeemed soul. God knew.
It was awesome. And not for the faint of heart.
God had to prepare me beforehand, as only He can, so that I could face the demands put upon me. And there were a lot. I was the only woman who went to my town on my team of four. The other women on the mission team were in other towns in Russia.
I was also the only newbie on my team -- the only member who had never been on a mission trip before. It was even my first trip outside the U.S.!
Once we got to our little town, after almost three days travel on plane, train and van, we slept briefly in our hotel after being greeted by a contingent of the church we were there to serve. Then that evening we were taken to a market, where we paid for roasted chicken, tomatoes, cucumbers, cheese and bread and took it to have picnic-style by the river while we met our translators and the pastors of the church and heard their assignments for us.
 |
| Our awesome welcoming committee decked out in traditional fare! |
 |
| Our first night in Russia, such a simple, delicious meal by the river |
The four of us knew we would evangelize, though unfortunately our team leader had not brought our Evangicubes from the U.S. We would have to rely on the spoken word through our translators. I was blissfully ignorant about this, but it bothered the others, I could tell.
The pastors informed us that we would be doing street evangelism, and that we would also be holding sessions at night in a restaurant that we would be inviting people to during the day -- sessions where one of the guys would present the gospel and then there would be a question/answer time. Perhaps all week. We would see.
 |
| The church baptizes believers in the river |
 |
| Me with teenage artists at the cultural center |
 |
| Very poignant, visiting a special needs hospital |
And then they looked at me. You, Teresa, you we want to speak to the women at the laundromat.
 |
| Some of the ladies of the laundry -- and what a very nice laundry it was! |
 |
| My new friends who heard my testimony over lunch, even when my translator was so moved she had to leave the room -- so the ladies and I just looked at each other. I shrugged and gestured to our food. "I guess we just have to eat! No talking now!" They laughed kindly and did what I did, which was dig in! |
Well, as it turns out, it's not the Kwik Wash variety that we have here in the states. And the assistant pastor worked there during the week and had witnessed to the 7 or 8 women on staff there. To no avail. So it was up to ME to convince them about Jesus.
No pressure there.
 |
| The representative of the women of the church, giving me a gift of appreciation for speaking to them. I guess I didn't turn them off too badly! |
Oh, and the next night I was to address the women of the church. Tell them how to behave.
Oh my gosh . . . are you kidding me? I thought.
 |
| A sweet lady in a nursing home facility. |
 |
| After an impromptu speaking opportunity that I just walked into -- ". . . and how is it in YOUR country? Come stand up here and tell us." Wow. |
My knees, even as I sat on the banks of that river, felt like they were buckling underneath me.
 |
| Where there are kids, there are teachers . . . and these kids were so wonderful! |
That evening as I prepared for bed I prayed God would help me. Because I was SOOOO not up for this. What in the world was I doing here? God had sent the wrong person. Beth Moore should have come instead of me. I felt like a weak little kitten when I should have been a roaring lion ready to go out and gather some souls for the Lord. I read and read God's word, took notes long into the night, trying to come up with what I was going to say to both groups of women and -- oh yeah, all those people along the street! I woke up extra early, the Russian sun streaming onto my face at four in the morning. That's when I started sobbing -- I couldn't even get any sleep, much less catch a break around here. I was at my wit's end.
But that's where God wanted me -- totally dependent upon Him.
I remember kneeling, crying, being so homesick, so regretting that I'd come to this demanding country. "I can't do this, Lord."
I don't know how long it took me to realize that I felt better. I crawled back into my bed knowing everything was going to be not just fine, but . . . taken care of.
And it was. God took my burden upon His shoulders, where it should have been all along. The Holy Spirit is a much better speaker than I am, and He did the speaking for me when I spoke to the ladies at the laundromat, and later in the week, when I spoke to the ladies of the church (that was by far the harder of the two!). And street evangelizing? It was easier than I thought, because I just allowed God's love to come through every fiber of my being every time I spoke to someone. Not that it wasn't challenging. And there were so many challenges! But each time someone turned away, it wasn't about me. It was about their rejection of God, and it made me sad for them. And when I had to speak impromptu in public on more than one occasion, I could do it, because I was empowered by the Most Powerful One!
How many people were saved? One. My translator.
Praise God for Kate's redeemed soul. God knew.
 |
| Me and Kate |
Sunday, July 3, 2011
big picture living
You gotta love the Proverbs. They're so clear cut, especially when our lives aren't.
For example, ever been in a situation where your friends are laughing at something that just isn't really funny and they expect you to join in? Maybe at the expense of someone's feelings?
Just think of these verses:
"The crooked man is an abomination to the Lord;
But He is intimate with the upright.
The curse of the Lord is on the house of the wicked,
But He blesses the dwelling of the righteous.
Though He scoffs at the scoffers,
Yet He gives grace to the afflicted.
The wise will inherit honor,
But fools display dishonor." Proverbs 3:32-35
I want to be the upright one, the righteous, even when it's uncomfortable here on earth. And it definitely is.
But let's remember, this time on earth is fleeting. The big picture is eternity. The uncomfortable situations here, when our friends expect us to do unwise and ungodly things with them, those are things we'll have to account for with the God of the Universe. Maybe we -- I -- should stop and think before I join in. Everything has a consequence.
We are blessed with a God who encourages us to be righteous -- Teresa
For example, ever been in a situation where your friends are laughing at something that just isn't really funny and they expect you to join in? Maybe at the expense of someone's feelings?
Just think of these verses:
"The crooked man is an abomination to the Lord;
But He is intimate with the upright.
The curse of the Lord is on the house of the wicked,
But He blesses the dwelling of the righteous.
Though He scoffs at the scoffers,
Yet He gives grace to the afflicted.
The wise will inherit honor,
But fools display dishonor." Proverbs 3:32-35
I want to be the upright one, the righteous, even when it's uncomfortable here on earth. And it definitely is.
But let's remember, this time on earth is fleeting. The big picture is eternity. The uncomfortable situations here, when our friends expect us to do unwise and ungodly things with them, those are things we'll have to account for with the God of the Universe. Maybe we -- I -- should stop and think before I join in. Everything has a consequence.
We are blessed with a God who encourages us to be righteous -- Teresa
Monday, June 27, 2011
Welcome to the neighborhood #2...or maybe not
Okay. I lied.
Well, no. It wasn't a lie, really. I just glossed over the truth. Like the lip gloss I wore in seventh grade, I made our neighbor situation look all shiny and lip-smacking good in my effort to overcome the invisible borders that exist from lawn to lawn.
See, I think I know what's holding us back from making friends in this semi-new neighborhood.
It's not that we don't look good. Nope. Got that one covered. Our clothes are clean, hemmed, pressed, hair in place, smiles unflagging.
It's not that our lawn is uncared for. Uh-uh. This year we called Chem-Lawn just to make sure we're contributing to the kelly green grass that the neighborhood is known for. My hubby breaks out in a sweat if he's a day late in mowing.
I'm not kidding about that.
No, it's not what's on the outside. It's what happened on the inside of our house.
It's the screams that our neighbors undoubtedly heard day after day throughout this year. This hard, hard year.
See, our oldest daughter -- our twenty-six year old -- is autistic, and this year we had a hard time getting a medication to control her anger. She would come home from work, get off the bus, walk into the house and start demanding things. From the moment she got home until the moment she went to bed she was irritable, and most days that irritability moved quickly into anger, loud anger, especially if we didn't do exactly what she wanted to do. So many days she would scream at the top of her lungs and I would wonder what our neighbors were thinking, and if they were calling the police to come investigate. Praise God we never got a knock at our door.
But during those dark days -- which have thankfully passed -- I kept thinking, What chance in the world do we have of making friends with our neighbors? This was going to be our chance at sharing Christ in our neighborhood.
Who knows? Maybe it's the memory of those screams that are keeping our neighbors at arm's length. Or maybe God can work beyond those memories and forge great friendships in the future.
I hope so.
We're blessed -- Teresa
Well, no. It wasn't a lie, really. I just glossed over the truth. Like the lip gloss I wore in seventh grade, I made our neighbor situation look all shiny and lip-smacking good in my effort to overcome the invisible borders that exist from lawn to lawn.
See, I think I know what's holding us back from making friends in this semi-new neighborhood.
It's not that we don't look good. Nope. Got that one covered. Our clothes are clean, hemmed, pressed, hair in place, smiles unflagging.
It's not that our lawn is uncared for. Uh-uh. This year we called Chem-Lawn just to make sure we're contributing to the kelly green grass that the neighborhood is known for. My hubby breaks out in a sweat if he's a day late in mowing.
I'm not kidding about that.
No, it's not what's on the outside. It's what happened on the inside of our house.
It's the screams that our neighbors undoubtedly heard day after day throughout this year. This hard, hard year.
See, our oldest daughter -- our twenty-six year old -- is autistic, and this year we had a hard time getting a medication to control her anger. She would come home from work, get off the bus, walk into the house and start demanding things. From the moment she got home until the moment she went to bed she was irritable, and most days that irritability moved quickly into anger, loud anger, especially if we didn't do exactly what she wanted to do. So many days she would scream at the top of her lungs and I would wonder what our neighbors were thinking, and if they were calling the police to come investigate. Praise God we never got a knock at our door.
But during those dark days -- which have thankfully passed -- I kept thinking, What chance in the world do we have of making friends with our neighbors? This was going to be our chance at sharing Christ in our neighborhood.
Who knows? Maybe it's the memory of those screams that are keeping our neighbors at arm's length. Or maybe God can work beyond those memories and forge great friendships in the future.
I hope so.
We're blessed -- Teresa
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Welcome to the neighborhood #1
You know, we moved to our neighborhood a year ago, and I can't say that we know our neighbors any better than we did the day we moved in.
That's pitiful.
Oh, now I can tell you all about them, probably. I can tell you about Charles' family gatherings next door and how his cute little grandkids dressed up on Easter and had Easter egg hunts in his backyard, and how the family laughed and ate dinner together under his tent awning a few weeks ago, and how Charles seems to be losing a little weight. We wave and say hi to him -- he seems like a great guy -- but I have no idea if his wife lives there any more, or if his health is holding up . . . and he's just yards away!
And the kid next door on the other side -- I don't even know his name, but I saw him in his graduation gown, and I congratulated him -- does that count for anything?
And across the street, I know that Richard and Elizabeth have toddlers, and a therapist comes every single day to work with their youngest. We wave and are very friendly . . . when we're outside.
So how do you go beyond just waving?
How do you cross that unspoken boundary between neighbors to becoming friends, like in the "old days"? I remember my neighborhood that I grew up in being like a family! We all knew each other, and when I grew up, all the neighbors came to my wedding shower. Even the ones I wasn't so fond of! Grin.
I want to be that kind of neighbor. Not the kind I am now.
Anybody out there know how to do it? Because I sure don't -- our last neighborhood held the world record, I think: we lived there for 13 years, and barely knew our next door neighbors.
So I'm up for any advice you can give, folks!
That's pitiful.
Oh, now I can tell you all about them, probably. I can tell you about Charles' family gatherings next door and how his cute little grandkids dressed up on Easter and had Easter egg hunts in his backyard, and how the family laughed and ate dinner together under his tent awning a few weeks ago, and how Charles seems to be losing a little weight. We wave and say hi to him -- he seems like a great guy -- but I have no idea if his wife lives there any more, or if his health is holding up . . . and he's just yards away!
And the kid next door on the other side -- I don't even know his name, but I saw him in his graduation gown, and I congratulated him -- does that count for anything?
And across the street, I know that Richard and Elizabeth have toddlers, and a therapist comes every single day to work with their youngest. We wave and are very friendly . . . when we're outside.
So how do you go beyond just waving?
How do you cross that unspoken boundary between neighbors to becoming friends, like in the "old days"? I remember my neighborhood that I grew up in being like a family! We all knew each other, and when I grew up, all the neighbors came to my wedding shower. Even the ones I wasn't so fond of! Grin.
I want to be that kind of neighbor. Not the kind I am now.
Anybody out there know how to do it? Because I sure don't -- our last neighborhood held the world record, I think: we lived there for 13 years, and barely knew our next door neighbors.
So I'm up for any advice you can give, folks!
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
The question to ask
In my adult life, I've had some bumps and hurdles. Some were little bitty bumps, some were great big mountain-looking hurdles. Each time I've had those bumps and hurdles in my path, I've asked, "Why, God?" And God lets me say it. Because he's big enough to take my anger, my screaming, my yelling, my bitter tears, and my eventual remorse and confession.
But each time I get past my obstacle and on down the road, I look back at what I've been through and marvel at what God did.
Not at the trial that He allowed.
I marvel at the blessings He worked through the messiness of my life. I wonder at the beauty that He brought from the ashes of the horrible situation. I praise Him for the way He showed Himself loyal to me even when I was not loyal to Him.
What a loving God.
I marvel, too, that I ever asked why. What I should have asked was, how can I know you better through this, Lord? What will you make me through this? Who do you want me to become?
I can ask all kinds of questions, but in hindsight, WHY is the least important. Because who really cares why?
Isaiah 26:4 says,"Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord, the Lord, is the Rock eternal."
Be blessed in Him -- Teresa
But each time I get past my obstacle and on down the road, I look back at what I've been through and marvel at what God did.
Not at the trial that He allowed.
I marvel at the blessings He worked through the messiness of my life. I wonder at the beauty that He brought from the ashes of the horrible situation. I praise Him for the way He showed Himself loyal to me even when I was not loyal to Him.
What a loving God.
I marvel, too, that I ever asked why. What I should have asked was, how can I know you better through this, Lord? What will you make me through this? Who do you want me to become?
I can ask all kinds of questions, but in hindsight, WHY is the least important. Because who really cares why?
Isaiah 26:4 says,"Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord, the Lord, is the Rock eternal."
Be blessed in Him -- Teresa
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
The good shepherd
A friend of mine and I were talking about how Jesus is the Good Shepherd in John 10, and she told me that she wanted to know more about how shepherds actually did their work.
"I have this image," she said, "of a shepherd picking up a little lamb when the lamb can't continue walking any more."
I nodded.
"That's how it is with us. Jesus picks us up in his arms when we can't go on and He carries us."
Yes. That's how it is. Sometimes more than others.
We are so blessed -- Teresa
"I have this image," she said, "of a shepherd picking up a little lamb when the lamb can't continue walking any more."
I nodded.
"That's how it is with us. Jesus picks us up in his arms when we can't go on and He carries us."
Yes. That's how it is. Sometimes more than others.
We are so blessed -- Teresa
Monday, June 20, 2011
Doer of the word?
These days I've been listening to a program called Revive Our Hearts, and today they had a guest speaker who shared her testimony. I was particularly interested because the speaker, Andrea Trent, is a friend of my daughter and son-in-law. Her story is riveting in that it is probably one that many women can relate to. I'm sharing the link to it below:
To read the transcript or listen to the message:
http://www.reviveourhearts.com/radio/roh/today.php
I hope you will tune in later this week, as I will, to hear the rest of her story.
Be blessed in Him -- Teresa
To read the transcript or listen to the message:
http://www.reviveourhearts.com/radio/roh/today.php
I hope you will tune in later this week, as I will, to hear the rest of her story.
Be blessed in Him -- Teresa
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Happy Father's Day
What a great day this was at my house.
I happen to be married to an awesome man who has made a great dad. Not perfect -- he'll be the first one to tell you that. But he's a wonderful father -- his girls will confirm it.
But I realize that not everyone is so fortunate.
My own dad was a pleasure to me, but sometimes I had to work hard to understand his silences and not mistake it for criticism. I've missed him in the sixteen years he's been gone. Once again, not a perfect dad by any means. But he was my dad, and I loved him. And what an awesome grandfather he was to my girls. One of the best I've ever seen.
I shudder when I think of an emotional, early-teenage conversation I had with Daddy where I tearfully told him that I wanted him to be like other dads, who talked to their kids' friends and were outgoing to everyone. He told me he'd try to be more like that . . . and when I think back, he was. But who can dissolve their own introverted nature? It breaks my heart to think that I burdened him with that request.
I guess we all have regrets as children, like we do as parents. But I hope that this day, this Father's Day, brings happy thoughts and memories of your dad. But like I said earlier, I know that's not the case with everyone.
If your earthly father is not someone you can recall with fondness, I urge you to think beyond that father to the one who placed you on this earth, your heavenly Father. "Those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons (or daughters) of God." Romans 8:14.
You are blessed -- Teresa
I happen to be married to an awesome man who has made a great dad. Not perfect -- he'll be the first one to tell you that. But he's a wonderful father -- his girls will confirm it.
But I realize that not everyone is so fortunate.
My own dad was a pleasure to me, but sometimes I had to work hard to understand his silences and not mistake it for criticism. I've missed him in the sixteen years he's been gone. Once again, not a perfect dad by any means. But he was my dad, and I loved him. And what an awesome grandfather he was to my girls. One of the best I've ever seen.
I shudder when I think of an emotional, early-teenage conversation I had with Daddy where I tearfully told him that I wanted him to be like other dads, who talked to their kids' friends and were outgoing to everyone. He told me he'd try to be more like that . . . and when I think back, he was. But who can dissolve their own introverted nature? It breaks my heart to think that I burdened him with that request.
I guess we all have regrets as children, like we do as parents. But I hope that this day, this Father's Day, brings happy thoughts and memories of your dad. But like I said earlier, I know that's not the case with everyone.
If your earthly father is not someone you can recall with fondness, I urge you to think beyond that father to the one who placed you on this earth, your heavenly Father. "Those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons (or daughters) of God." Romans 8:14.
You are blessed -- Teresa
Saturday, June 18, 2011
The blame game
I read something the other day that has stayed with me. A little food for thought, a nugget of truth that I even wrote down so I wouldn't forget it. Here it is:
We are not accountable for what other people do to us.
Wow.
Let that settle in for a minute.
Okay. Here's the second part:
We are only accountable for how we respond.
Are scenarios flashing through your mind?
Here's one:
Let's say someone cuts you off very rudely on the road, causing you to swerve to avoid hitting them.
My natural reaction is to yell at them, to honk my horn, to rant and rave for the next fifteen minutes because of what they caused me to do.
But really, who does that impact?
If I yell at them and honk my horn, I could be taking a big chance on a road rage incident -- not wise.
If I yell at them and keep it inside my car, rant and rave for the next fifteen minutes, I've just ruined a good quarter hour of my life. I've raised my blood pressure, focused on negative things -- how is that productive? Philippians 4:8 tells us what is good to think about: "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable -- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy -- think about such things."
Maybe you're thinking that the person got away, and that's just not right! It doesn't seem right in our eyes, but God has something to say about that: "Do not repay evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: 'It is mine to avenge; I will repay,' says the Lord." (Romans 12:17-20)
It's hard to do things the way God wants us to, but in the end, He's got it handled.
You are blessed -- Teresa
We are not accountable for what other people do to us.
Wow.
Let that settle in for a minute.
Okay. Here's the second part:
We are only accountable for how we respond.
Are scenarios flashing through your mind?
Here's one:
Let's say someone cuts you off very rudely on the road, causing you to swerve to avoid hitting them.
My natural reaction is to yell at them, to honk my horn, to rant and rave for the next fifteen minutes because of what they caused me to do.
But really, who does that impact?
If I yell at them and honk my horn, I could be taking a big chance on a road rage incident -- not wise.
If I yell at them and keep it inside my car, rant and rave for the next fifteen minutes, I've just ruined a good quarter hour of my life. I've raised my blood pressure, focused on negative things -- how is that productive? Philippians 4:8 tells us what is good to think about: "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable -- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy -- think about such things."
Maybe you're thinking that the person got away, and that's just not right! It doesn't seem right in our eyes, but God has something to say about that: "Do not repay evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: 'It is mine to avenge; I will repay,' says the Lord." (Romans 12:17-20)
It's hard to do things the way God wants us to, but in the end, He's got it handled.
You are blessed -- Teresa
Friday, June 17, 2011
The question of doctrine
I was listening to a podcast the other day and it got me to thinking. The speaker was addressing the topic of doctrine.
I sighed and turned away. I might as well have rolled my eyes, because that was what I was feeling.
Then I almost laughed out loud, because it was as if the speaker came right into the room and spoke to me! She said, "Now I know you think this is a dry topic, but listen! Anybody who believes anything has doctrine! Oprah has doctrine -- she had a sex show on the other day, and let me tell you about her doctrine of sex."
And actually, I don't want to tell you about it, because it was pretty perverse. Oprah wasn't the cleanest show around.
The podcast speaker I was listening to went on to name quite a few other personalities with venues on television who are full of doctrine -- just not church doctrine. I can name a few of my own thinking: Jay Leno doctrine, Ellen doctrine, President Obama doctrine, Tea Party doctrine, United Nations doctrine, Tom Shoes doctrine. They're not all bad. They're not all good. But they all have beliefs, and that's their doctrine.
It was a whole new way of looking at doctrine.
So, the question becomes. . . what is YOUR doctrine? What is your belief system? Even if you've never thought you had one, let me stop you right there -- because you do, or else you wouldn't be here.
I'll tell you what I've thought about since I heard this podcast: I want the doctrine that I live by to reflect the one doctrine that I know to be the truth. The only place I know where to get to truth is the Bible.
Be blessed in Him -- Teresa
I sighed and turned away. I might as well have rolled my eyes, because that was what I was feeling.
Then I almost laughed out loud, because it was as if the speaker came right into the room and spoke to me! She said, "Now I know you think this is a dry topic, but listen! Anybody who believes anything has doctrine! Oprah has doctrine -- she had a sex show on the other day, and let me tell you about her doctrine of sex."
And actually, I don't want to tell you about it, because it was pretty perverse. Oprah wasn't the cleanest show around.
The podcast speaker I was listening to went on to name quite a few other personalities with venues on television who are full of doctrine -- just not church doctrine. I can name a few of my own thinking: Jay Leno doctrine, Ellen doctrine, President Obama doctrine, Tea Party doctrine, United Nations doctrine, Tom Shoes doctrine. They're not all bad. They're not all good. But they all have beliefs, and that's their doctrine.
It was a whole new way of looking at doctrine.
So, the question becomes. . . what is YOUR doctrine? What is your belief system? Even if you've never thought you had one, let me stop you right there -- because you do, or else you wouldn't be here.
I'll tell you what I've thought about since I heard this podcast: I want the doctrine that I live by to reflect the one doctrine that I know to be the truth. The only place I know where to get to truth is the Bible.
Be blessed in Him -- Teresa
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
School's out. . .
. . . so now there's time on my hands.
At first, I thought, "This is great! I'm going to read all day long, sleep as late as possible, go shopping in the mornings, take a nap whenever I want, watch a movie in the middle of the day, have lunch out with friends, write . . . . " The possibilities were endless.
But today the house was a little empty feeling. I felt aimless. Yet I'd look at the clock as it ticked away the minutes and I'd think, use this precious time! Read! Do the laundry! Do the projects you wanted to do!
It was like a race to hurry up and use the time you always wanted . . . and it's taken some adjusting.
But I think what I'm discovering as I get used to my new freedom is that there is a lot of time for my bible study. The pleasures that are found there are countless. The verse that talks about God's Word being alive continually rolls around in my mind . . . (Hebrews 4:12: For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.) That means that the last book you read might have been awesome, but it wasn't living and active and able to penetrate your soul.
Yeah . . . so chew on that for a minute. And see if you don't pick up your Bible and test it out, like I did.
We are blessed -- Teresa
At first, I thought, "This is great! I'm going to read all day long, sleep as late as possible, go shopping in the mornings, take a nap whenever I want, watch a movie in the middle of the day, have lunch out with friends, write . . . . " The possibilities were endless.
But today the house was a little empty feeling. I felt aimless. Yet I'd look at the clock as it ticked away the minutes and I'd think, use this precious time! Read! Do the laundry! Do the projects you wanted to do!
It was like a race to hurry up and use the time you always wanted . . . and it's taken some adjusting.
But I think what I'm discovering as I get used to my new freedom is that there is a lot of time for my bible study. The pleasures that are found there are countless. The verse that talks about God's Word being alive continually rolls around in my mind . . . (Hebrews 4:12: For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.) That means that the last book you read might have been awesome, but it wasn't living and active and able to penetrate your soul.
Yeah . . . so chew on that for a minute. And see if you don't pick up your Bible and test it out, like I did.
We are blessed -- Teresa
Saturday, May 7, 2011
serendipity
ser·en·dip·i·ty
noun \ˌser-ən-ˈdi-pə-tē\Definition of SERENDIPITY
: the faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for; also : an instance of this
(courtesy of Merriam-Webster Online)
I was in Mardel the other day and overheard a woman talking to a salesperson about Bibles. Since I was sitting near the Bible wall while looking through my intended purchases, my ADD won and I couldn't tune their conversation out. The woman was confused about study Bibles, and was getting a thorough education from a very knowledgeable man. But then my ears perked up when he said, in an oh-by-the-way tone, that he happened to have a leather-bound Life Application Bible, NIV version, on the clearance table, for $20. Only one left, he said.
My jaw dropped. I sat up a little straighter, remembering words my college daughter had said a few weeks ago: "Mom, I feel like I should get ____ a Bible just like mine." Sarah felt like God was putting that on her heart. Knowing what I had paid for hers, my instant response was to see $$$.
Back in the world of Mardel, I braced to see the woman's response to this unbelievable deal. Even though I couldn't see her face, I could almost hear the curl of her lip as she said, "Nooo, that's okay, I'd rather have this kind."
"I'll take it!" I piped up from the chair behind the salesman.
It now belongs to Sarah's friend.
Serendipity: it has God written all over it.
I was in Mardel the other day and overheard a woman talking to a salesperson about Bibles. Since I was sitting near the Bible wall while looking through my intended purchases, my ADD won and I couldn't tune their conversation out. The woman was confused about study Bibles, and was getting a thorough education from a very knowledgeable man. But then my ears perked up when he said, in an oh-by-the-way tone, that he happened to have a leather-bound Life Application Bible, NIV version, on the clearance table, for $20. Only one left, he said.
My jaw dropped. I sat up a little straighter, remembering words my college daughter had said a few weeks ago: "Mom, I feel like I should get ____ a Bible just like mine." Sarah felt like God was putting that on her heart. Knowing what I had paid for hers, my instant response was to see $$$.
Back in the world of Mardel, I braced to see the woman's response to this unbelievable deal. Even though I couldn't see her face, I could almost hear the curl of her lip as she said, "Nooo, that's okay, I'd rather have this kind."
"I'll take it!" I piped up from the chair behind the salesman.
It now belongs to Sarah's friend.
Serendipity: it has God written all over it.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
He is risen
Hallelujah!
Isaiah 53 says
Isaiah 53 says
"He was despised and rejected by men,
a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.
Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows...
But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed."
He was crushed and died a horrible death, taking our sins upon himself, even though he was without sin. He was dead and buried. But on the third day, he rose, defying death!
We serve a living God!
Saturday, April 23, 2011
precious
How precious is the very name of Jesus.
Does it give you chills?
I certainly don't put any store by emotions ruling our relationship with Christ, please understand -- but something curious has begun to happen to me in the last few years that I really like. It has gotten to the point in my life that when I hear the name of Jesus, I feel jarred. My heart skips a beat. It's like a bolt of righteous lightning comes into my sinful world and shines bright for just a second and leaves me breathless. It surprises me every time.
Does it give you chills?
I certainly don't put any store by emotions ruling our relationship with Christ, please understand -- but something curious has begun to happen to me in the last few years that I really like. It has gotten to the point in my life that when I hear the name of Jesus, I feel jarred. My heart skips a beat. It's like a bolt of righteous lightning comes into my sinful world and shines bright for just a second and leaves me breathless. It surprises me every time. "Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father."
Philippians 2:9-11
Friday, April 22, 2011
confirmation
Well, he started whispering to me yesterday. He told me to give a message to one of my friends: stay away from a certain person who was causing turmoil and strife. I didn't see my friend yesterday, so I tried to blow it off -- it was probably just my overactive imagination.
I should have known better. God is persistent. Especially when it involves his beloved children.
The message was loud and clear this morning. In fact, it kind of freaked me out. I prayed for my friend's safety as I drove to work, and I felt such urgency to speak with her that the moment I saw her I stopped in my path and asked if we could talk privately. When I told her that God wanted me to tell her to stay away from this person, she wasn't surprised. She nodded and said, "Wow. That's just confirmation. You're the third person to tell me that very same thing."
God used me to assure her that it was most certainly his will for her to avoid this harmful person. What would have happened if I had not obeyed the Lord's prompting? Maybe nothing, but maybe something catastrophic. Thankfully I'll never wonder.
Or worse, hate myself for not delivering a very important message.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
when I pray
If I have time, that is.
Sometimes I'm doing good just to get a quick, "Lord, help me through this day," or "God protect my family" -- so the visualization just doesn't happen.
But when I have the time . . . how wonderful it would be to sit at the feet of God in the green, lush mountains somewhere (where it's about 70 degrees) and tell him my struggles. Have him stroke my hair as if I were a small child, and tell me everything's going to be ok.
But -- I can't just leave it at that. The very mention of God, feet and hair -- who comes to mind? For me it's Mary, the woman who used really expensive perfume to pour on Jesus. Using her locks of hair, she wiped her tears from where they had dropped on his feet. She adored him. She worshiped him.
What a beautiful place that is, the feet of Jesus.
When we pray, we are there, at his feet. Whether we know it or not.
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