Category: Spirituality

When Your Dreams Burn Up

6/29/2018

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I spotted these charred remains of a car in front of a house that was reduced to ashes. Someone’s dream home on an island off the Gulf Coast gone up in smoke in a few scorching minutes.
I’ve had dreams turn to ashes, too. My dream of being a great singer - my voice didn’t cooperate with that. My dream of buying a house on a hill with a mountain view - the real estate market didn’t cooperate with that.
     Other dreams have come true. The dream of having a family - my husband willingly cooperated in the process. The dream of owning a red Miata convertible - it was a blast until I decided I’d better sell it before I got stuck inside and we had to use a crane to extricate me.
     Some of my dreams weren’t worth pursuing. They were like the New Yorker cartoon I saw in which one woman tells another, “I got what I wanted, but it’s not what I wanted.” Reality didn’t live up to the dreaminess.
     Life’s a tightrope walk - the tension between striving and gratitude. I don’t always navigate the tightrope gracefully.
  But a friend reminded me that this life isn’t the entire script. It’s only the first act in a never ending production where the best of dreams may come true in the second act.

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What Do E.T. and Dorothy Long For?

3/23/2018

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What do both E.T. and Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz long for?
     It’s a simple, four-letter word.
     E.T. pointed his bony finger toward the heavens and mourned for home.
     Dorothy faced a Wicked Witch with Flying Monkeys to get back home.
     We all aspire for the peace and comfort that’s inherent in that little word.
   In fact, we may have the best of times with family and friends. But after we say our goodbyes, we may sense that what we’ve experienced is just a taste of something better - what “home” is meant to be.
     That’s because we live in a paradise lost, where one way or another, everything’s broken.
     So we yearn for more.
     “We were not meant for this world alone,” Billy Graham said. “We were meant for Heaven. And Heaven is our ultimate home.”    Which is why I burst with excitement that Jesus said he was going on ahead to prepare a place for us in God’s big, big house. Where nothing is broken. With no more goodbyes. Only endless hellos.
  What a homecoming that will be.

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How I Struck Out

11/3/2017

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     Her name came to mind as quietly as a cat walking.
     “Susan.”
     She’s a friend I’d made in stretching class at the rec center. A vibrant redhead, she would kid me about my impossible dream of reaching down and actually touching my toes. Susan could. After class, she’d head to the machines for weight training. She always attacked life head on.
     One day Susan walked into class with her usual determined grin and announced to everyone she had fourth-stage lung cancer. She’d never been a smoker. Never even allowed smoking in her home. Go figure.
     Her strength evaporated. She stopped attending class and vanished into the ozone of chemotherapy. I emailed, getting one-sentence replies. I ran into her once at the doctors when we were both there for lab work. At first I didn’t recognize her with the red bandana on her head and the shuffle in her step. “How is it?” I asked. “So far, so good,” she whispered, managing a smile.

DIVINE NUDGE

  She disappeared from my radar. Then the thought came: “Susan.” I knew it was a God-prompt to pray. Maybe contact her.
     I was busy with important stuff, I thought, so I’d email later. I wrote her name on a slip of paper to remind myself. The paper shifted around my desk. I didn’t contact her. Forgot to pray.
     A week later at the rec center, another friend told me, “Susan passed away last night.”
     My heart ached. I’d struck out. Even if the baseballs had been juiced in this game, I would have whiffed them because I was batting at other things in life. Things as inconsequential as gnats now. I missed the opportunity to pray for strength for Susan as she rounded third and flew into home base.
     But I haven’t left the playing field. I’m sitting in the bleachers, praying for her family as they slump in the dugout of their grief.
     Some people call nudges like I got “hearing from God,” and I think they’re right. They’re invitations to join the Almighty in his cosmic work. What a mystery, and what a privilege that I don’t want to miss out on.
  Have you acted on any divine nudges lately?

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Am I a Loser?

10/27/2017

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The old voice has been shouting in my head again - “You’re a loser.”
It’s been screaming that all my life. When I was in grade school, it declared I was a loser because I couldn’t jump rope. As an adolescent, the score card changed, and I was a loser because my face was an acre of zits. In high school, the report card shifted again: the winners were the cheerleaders, those who had cars and boyfriends. I wouldn’t dare try out for cheerleading, my father drove me to school, and no one invited me to homecoming. “Loser!”
But I had a plan: I’d throw myself into getting good grades and into extracurricular activities. Then I’d be worth something and I’d like myself. By the end of high school, I’d won a college scholarship and had a string of activities after my name in the yearbook. As I studied the photos of myself scattered through the yearbook, I whispered, “I made it!” Then I closed the book and realized I’d have to start all over again in a new setting to convince the world I was somebody.
The standards kept flipping. As a career woman, I must be intelligent and attractive. As a mother, I must be a cheerful school volunteer (never mind I’d been up all night with vomiting kids). As a wife, I must be Betty Crocker and Better Homes and Gardens by day and a burning babe by night.
I tried grading on the curve, comparing myself with others. “I’m not as incompetent as So and So, after all.” But others still leaped higher and longer than I could, and my self esteem wilted.
Exhaustion!

PERFORMANCE
Throughout the years, another Voice has rippled through my head like a quiet stream, overflowing the negative noise when I listen to it. This Voice assures me that my value isn’t based on accomplishment. My worth is established by a permanent truth: I’m God’s loved child.
Relief!
This changes everything. I don’t have to compete for recognition. I’m already valued. Already significant.
So just as the German monk Martin Luther took up a hammer five hundred years ago and nailed declarations onto a door, I’m nailing proclamations onto the door of my heart. Edicts that I don’t have to run on any Performance Tread Mill that society slaps me onto. I’m saved from that. I’m free. And that’s good news.
Is there a score sheet hanging over you? The number of Facebook "likes" you get? The leanness of your body mass? The fatness of your bank account? Maybe it's time to pound some nails.

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How Are Worms and Angels Alike?

10/13/2017

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I rescued this fellow who had wriggled onto the asphalt after a rainstorm and was destined to dry up. He’s worth saving. After all, he’s a matchbox-size earth mover who prepares soil so it yields green grass and bumper crops.
     And he’s not alone. According to Amy Stewart in The Earth Moved, 5.2 million worms are in an acre of rich garden soil that is one foot deep. Wow - that’s a lot of assistance I didn’t even ask for.
     These guys, who are mostly invisible as they go about their duties, remind me of another corps of unnoticed helpers - angels. I don’t mean creatures like those obese cherubs on Valentine’s Day cards that look like they need a cellulite treatment. True angels are heaven’s army on call 24/7 to come to our aid. A SWAT team. Most of the time, I’m not even aware of them, just like worms.
     How amazing is this? Even though I’m a minor character on the world’s stage, the divine Director assigns worms to prepare good soil for me and angels to watch over me as I play out my role in life. He calls upon creatures from the heights of Heaven to the depths of the Earth to work behind the scenes on my behalf.
     Why do I ever worry?

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Croutons...
Chew on these seasoned bits for a little hope and humor along your highway.

JOIN ME ~ I’ll send brief, occasional posts to lighten your backpack. We're on this journey together.

When Your Dreams Burn Up

What Do E.T. and Dorothy Long For?

How I Struck Out

Am I a Loser?

How Are Worms and Angels Alike?

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