that crazy memory

Ecclesiastes 12:1a Remember your Creator in the days of your youth. 

I don’t know about you but I have a terrible memory.  The kind where I go to tell someone something, but mid-sentence I forget what it is that I was going to say. Or I go upstairs for something, and by the time I’ve reached the second floor, I’m completely clueless about why I climbed those stairs.  So frustrating! I chalk it up to being the busy mom of two kids.  At least that sounds like a good excuse.

I don’t think I’m the only one who struggles with short term memory or long term memory loss for that matter.  Apparently, we as humans have very short-lived memories.   There are several places in the Bible where God tells us to remember things – important things.  The above verse that I started out with is probably one of my favorites when it comes to the reminder to recall all that God has done for us. 

The verse comes from Ecclesiastes a book that was written by one of the greatest men who ever lived – King Solomon.  Remember that guy?  He was the one who asked for wisdom when God promised to grant him any request.  God was so pleased with his request that he made a special promise to Solomon. 

“Since you asked for this and not for long life or wealth for yourself, nor have asked for the death of your enemies but for discernment in administering justice, I will do what you have asked.  I will give you a wise and discerning heart so that there will never have been anyone like you, nor will there ever be.  Moreover, I will give you what you have not asked for – both riches and honor – so that in your lifetime you will have no equal among kings.” 

Guess what?  God kept his promise.  In time Solomon became so famous that even the queen of Sheba came to visit him. (1 Kings 10:1)  God was faithful to his word.  See, it’s not God who has trouble remembering.  No, God isn’t the forgetful one.  We are.  Even Solomon had a poor memory.  At the height of his glory, Solomon had seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines.  Many of them worshipped foreign gods.  God had warned the Israelites about this – that if they intermarried with other nations, their hearts would surely turn away from Him.  And in Solomon’s case that’s exactly what happened. 

1 Kings 11:4  As Solomon grew old, his wives turned his heart after other gods, and his heart was not fully devoted to the Lord his God as the heart of David his father had been.

Even the wisest man who ever lived forgot to remember.  Throughout the Bible there are examples of man’s forgetful nature.  And in my own life, I’ve found one thing to be very true, it’s when things are going fine that it’s easiest to forget about God.

Psalm 1:45 Though your riches increase do not set your heart on them. 

When I was going through some rough times, I believed that better times were coming, I just didn’t know when they would come.  But before I even got there, God planted this truth in my heart.  It was like he was telling me, times will get better, but don’t forget about me.  I don’t know about you but it’s much easier to forget about God when things are going well.  When life is tough and rough and down-right dirty, those are the times when I cling to him like crazy. 

But what about now, now that things are better for me.  I have to admit it takes more discipline to pray and read scripture.  See, I don’t really feel like I need God when things are going well.  Life is smooth, easy, not a cloud in the sky.  That’s why God told me – “Though your riches increase do not set your heart on them.”

I’ll close with one last thought, one last story from the Bible.  It’s about those Israelites, those dog-gone Israelites. Theirs is another great example of how easy it is to forget about God.  He’d led the Israelites out of the desert and into the Promised Land.  Keeping his vow to give them this land “flowing with milk and honey”, God went before them and routed out their enemies. He didn’t forget.  Unfortunately, for the Israelites, they did. Yup, they failed to recall all that God had done for them.  He’d led them through the Dead Sea, pummeled the Egyptians who were chasing them, given them manna from heaven and water from the most unlikely places but still they forgot.  God remembered just like he always does.  They forgot just like they always did.  Much like we do today.

So learn a lesson from those dog-gone Israelites, and from the wisdom of Solomon’s pen.  Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, because I’ll guarantee he hasn’t forgotten you. 

Goodness Again

 . . . it is very well worthwhile to be tormented for two or three years of one’s life, for the sake of being able to read all the rest of it. ~ Jane Austen

1.   Tormented past participle, past tense of tor·ment (Verb)

Verb:

1.   Cause to experience severe mental or physical suffering: "he was tormented by jealousy".

Have you ever felt this way?  Tormented.  I think it’s safe to say that in the human experience, we all have felt this distressed at one time or another.  I know I have - especially in terms of my mental illness.  Life was pretty miserable for me before I was diagnosed.  On bad days it was all I could do just to swing my legs out of bed, place them on the floor, and drag myself into the day.  No, I sure didn’t wake up feeling like sunshine and hop to my feet eager to face the day.  Those were my bad days.  On my really bad days, suicide was constantly at the back of my mind.  I contemplated it, and the only thing that kept me moving was the knowledge that God didn’t mean for my story to end like that – he had a better ending planned.

I don’t know about anyone else, but while I struggled through those dark days, one book of the Bible was a vast source of hope, comfort, and refuge - the book of Psalms.  I especially loved the ones penned by the shepherd-king, David.  Many, many of his psalms were ones of anguish, confusion, and suffering.  I could relate to those things.  The fact that he was mentioned as a man after God’s own heart gave me comfort too.  Just because he was named as such didn’t mean he was afraid to ask the bigger questions of God – why this suffering, this pain, why was this his lot to bear?  If David who was a man after God’s own heart could ask tough questions, so could I.  God wasn’t going to abandon me or turn away from me. 

In fact running away from him and hiding was exactly the opposite of what I believe God wanted me to do.  I got the feeling that God would rather I pound him with my fists than run away and hide.   And that’s exactly what David did.  If you know the history of this king, you know that his life was anything but easy.  So when it came to asking the tough questions of God, he didn’t hold back.  In psalm after psalm, David exposed his pain out of a heart filled with anguish.  One of my favorite psalms written by him is Psalm 27.  I could write the entire thing it’s so good, but instead I’ll just share two key verses. 

Psalm 27: 13-14  I am . . . confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.  Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.

And that’s exactly what I did.  I waited for the Lord, expecting an answer, anticipating an end to the suffering – waiting for his goodness to rain down on me as welcome as a spring shower falling on a dry and parched land.  So many years later I am happy to report that welcome rain has fallen on my life.  I’m on good meds. I have a faithful and loving husband who has stuck with me through the ups and downs of living with bipolar.  I have two beautiful children.  Most importantly, I have a faithful, loving God who has brought much goodness into my life. 

If you’re feeling hopeless, if you don’t think you can make it through one more day, hold on.  Don’t give up.  Don’t give in.  Believe.  Just believe.  Jane Austen had it right.  Being tormented for a brief time is worth all the pain you endure, because you are able to “read the rest of life” in many unexpected ways.  Or as a good track coach once said to me, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.”  They both had it right.  Most of all, King David had it right.  You will see the goodness of the Lord again.  And when you need to pound your fists on God, do it.  Don’t be afraid to ask the tough questions.  I’m pretty sure he’s big enough to handle them. 

A Mockingbird

Psalm 139:13-14 For you created my inmost being, you knit me together in my mother’s womb.  I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, and I know that full well. 

I’m pretty good at bird calls.  I make a mean goose call, and you should hear my whippoorwill song.  I can screech with the best of the hawks, and my owl hoot?  Well, don’t even get me started.   Confession time -  everything I’ve written up to this point has not exactly been true.  Oh, who am I kidding, it’s all a lie.  But, I’m trying to make a point here, so stick with me for a few moments. 

When I say I’m good at bird calls, I’m really not.  But, what I am good at is imitating people.  No, I’m not talking about the Saturday Night Live type of caricatures, but another kind that’s not so healthy.  Let me start with an example.  In high school, I sang in both the choir and show choir for three years.  My second year I was voted most valuable junior.  This was all great, but there was something going on that wasn’t so great.  The problem?  I could make my voice sound like anyone else’s.  When I’d sing, I’d pick a voice around me and sing in just that way; same tone, pitch, timing etc.  I was so busy trying to copy someone else’s voice that I never figured out what my own was.   

Lately, I’ve realized that I’m good at emulating others - especially people I admire.  If so and so thinks that flying kites in the rain is a good idea, than so do I.  Even if it’s really not.  What’s so bad about copying other people, you might think, especially if their ideas and ideals are basically good ones?  While I don’t think it’s bad to want to pattern myself after someone, I still can’t help wondering one important truth;  if I’m so busy trying to become something I’m not, then I’m not really becoming the someone I am meant to be. 

 God’s been teaching me that sometimes I just need to stand on my own two feet - to figure out what I believe.  I’m not saying that I can’t learn from others, but what I am saying is this; God made me one-of-a-kind unique.  There’s no one else like me in the whole wide world – the snowflake effect.  So why do I try so hard to be someone or something that I’m not?   

Maybe it’s because of envy.  So and so seems so much smarter, important, educated, wise.  I’m just, well, little old me.  To be honest, I don’t really think that’s my issue though.  My problem stems more from a feeling of inferiority. I don’t think I can do it.  My opinions aren’t good enough.  My thoughts, my ideas, my feelings aren’t worthy enough.  I have to admit I’m a pretty simple person.  I don’t concern myself with things that are too great for me to understand.  In fact, sometimes I feel a little too simple.  Whenever I start to feel this way God reminds me of one very important truth. I’m not meant to be anyone else.    

How about you, you one-of-a-kind snowflake?  Do you believe that you are fearfully and wonderfully made?  If you don’t, you might want to reevaluate.  Chances are you’re not appreciating the beautiful person that God has made you to be.  So do yourself a favor.  Figure out what your opinions, your ideals, your thoughts are.  Learn from others, but don’t blindly imitate them.  Be yourself, and let the voice you speak to the world be your own. 

who you really are

You wanna know what amuses me? How people can be so nice to one another in person, i.e. saying hello or asking how someone's day has been. Polite, you know the "we can paste a smile on our face and pretend like we are best friends with every other being on the planet" polite. But think about what happens when we get inside of our cars, our armored tanks so to speak. We're inaccessible and safe, safe to be are real selves. We're isolated from all other drivers, and it's like we become different people. Like because of our tinted windows or inaccessibility we become not best buds with our fellow drivers, but rather adversaries. We get annoyed with the "grandma or grandpa" Sunday drivers. You know the kind that drive exasperatingly slow, those who actually have the nerve to drive below the speed limit, as if they were riding in a buggy just taking in the sights all around them. My usual response? "All right, Grandpa, move a little faster."

Or how about those jerks who cut us off nearly causing us to have a heart attack. Yea, I've definitely got it in for them. Ooooh here's a good one – a driver who tailgates you just because you're doing the speed limit. This one is near and dear to me because I like to drive the speed limit most times. And I have to say that for my part I become very smug when someone passes me just to have to stop at the next light, where I proceed to pull up next to them in a matter of moments. "So in the end what did it really gain them?" I think self-righteously.

Road rage! Now there's a cheery term. Ever been the victim of it? Not a pleasant experience at all. Let me give you an example. A few weeks ago my husband and I were driving down the interstate. The left lane was under construction so that we weren't able to move over for the car that was trying to merge on next to us. Expecting the other driver to yield, my husband was forced to slam on the brakes when the driver nearly side-swiped us. Last time I checked drivers merging on to the interstate are supposed to yield. Yes, that's right, yield. Well, apparently this driver didn't know that law, so my husband gave them a shout-out – he honked his horn. The lovely person on the passenger side proceeded to roll down his window and give us "the finger".

Okay, so it's not exactly road rage, but think about what might have happened if this had been a face to face encounter? If someone cut in front of us and we had to "yield" to them, we would never give them the finger. An irritated glance maybe, but, more likely if they'd realized what they'd done and apologized, we'd say politely back, "No problem." Would that same courtesy have worked if we were secluded in our cars? Nope. You don't have to be nice to someone you can't see person to person. They're just a nameless face, not even really that, a car – whether one that cuts us off, gives us the finger, or tailgates us, they're all just cars, not the people we pretend to love and adore. Jesus once told us to love our neighbors, even the ones that are difficult. So, the next time you're in your car and are cut off, or tailgated, or whatever other rude things we do to people on the road, think about how you would handle it if you knew who that person in the car was. Better yet, think about how you would handle it if you were dealing with them face-to-face. Oh, and when you read the verse below try inserting the word, "car" for enemy and "tick you off" for persecute. Because behind every armored vehicle on the road, there's actually a person we're supposed to be loving.

You have heard that it was said, 'Love your neighbor and hate your enemies'. But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. (Matthew 5:43)

Christmas in May

So, I'm sure you've all heard about "Christmas in July" when car salesman, and department stores, and a variety of other shops offer a cool reminder of winter to distract us from the blistering heat of summer. I have a confession to make that may surprise some of you. Are you ready for it? Here goes . . . I've been listening to Christmas Music in my car for about a month now. My husband isn't even remotely interested in hearing Christmas Music until December. I'm sure he appreciates the fact that I don't' play it at home, and, that mostly, we listen to it in the car.

The real culprit in all of this is my four-year-old. One day while she was browsing through my CD collection she spotted a Christmas CD. Not knowing what it was, she asked if she could listen to it. I thought to myself, 'Why not? It can't do any harm.' Unfortunately for me, when she heard the first phrase of 'Jingle Bell Rock' she was hooked. In total bliss, she danced and swayed to the music. Then she pulled me in and asked me to dance with her. Once again I thought, 'Why not?' So I picked her up and started twirling her around. She was in love. And about two dozen times later, I'm glad to say she's moved on to other things. Now, she wants to listen to the WHOLE Christmas CD. At present, I keep it in my car so that when she asks to listen to it I can say, "It's out in the car, sweetie. We can't listen to it until we drive somewhere." And trust me; we listen to it every time we get in the car.

As for me, at first I thought I would just humor her. Let her listen to Jingle Bell Rock and dance to the music. It was cute. And as long as I limited it to three times a day, it wasn't unbearable. Then something unexpected happened. As I listened to the CD over and over again I began to think that we (all of us who celebrate Christmas) may have things backwards. Sound strange? Humor me for a moment. When everything is dead and gloomy and gray outside, Christmas music has a way of uplifting us. Giving us hope during a bleak time of the year. But in spring, oh in spring, Christmas Music takes on a whole new meaning. Not only does the music uplift, but it does something else; it shines and glows right along with the coming of spring. Don't believe me? Try it yourself. Pick a beautiful spring day, roll down those windows and pop in your favorite Christmas CD. You'll smile. You'll laugh. Most importantly you'll love it. There is something about the hope of the music and the hope of spring that, when combined, gives a joy that Christmas music in the dead of winter never could. Yup, all it takes is a good CD, a beautiful blue sky, and rolling down road with the windows wide open. I guarantee you'll love it. Love it. If you don't, I'll send you a Christmas Song, "Jingle Bell Rock", and see if it doesn't get you up and dancing.

Song of Songs 2:10-13 My lover spoke and said to me, "Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, and come with me. See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; the
season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land. The fig tree forms its early fruit; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance. Arise, come, my darling, my beautiful one, come with me.

a bittersweet trip

As we pulled on to the interstate at mile marker 426, I anticipated the trip – what was to come.  Unexpectedly, I felt a growing sense of sorrow - wave upon wave washing over me as we traveled further north.  As we passed each mile marker, the vivid memories of time spent with Mom became bittersweet reminders of all that we had, and all that we had lost.  From the beginning to the end a wave of emotions -laughter, tears, sorrow, joy intermingled in my heart.  We drove down the road towards the place I’d always called home; the place where she would no longer be. 

Mile Marker 426 – Nebraska

 The kids were loaded, snacks bought, the van filled up with gas.  We were on our way, a trip to South Dakota to participate in the first ever kidney walk in memory of Mom.  Even before we pulled onto the interstate bittersweet thoughts filled my heart.  Bitter because I was giving up seven and a half years of teaching memories; from bulletin borders, to curriculum books, to arts and crafts supplies, we were bringing it all so I could give it away.  The sweetness?  It was a gift to my niece who graduates in a few weeks with her teaching degree.  Even as I felt the sorrow of letting go – knowing who I was giving it to made it easier.  ‘It will help her get started on her own teaching journey,’ I thought and the knowledge of that made me smile. 

Mile Marker 156– Iowa

My thoughts turned towards home, what I’d always called home -  Mom’s house.  I recalled the memories of familiar sights and sounds there to greet us when we walked in the door.  The smell of fresh baked cookies, banana bread, trail mix or any other assortment of goodies that she’d made.  Giving her a big hug and holding on tight.  The kids were going to miss the candy drawer.  I was going to miss spending time with her - catching her snoozing in her favorite chair while watching TV.  Hugging her good night and telling her, ‘I love you.’ Dozens of these memories filled my mind as the van rolled down the road closer to the place I’d always loved – the place I’d grown up in, my childhood home.

 Mile Marker 18 – South Dakota

This is when the tears started to flow.  Unexpected, out of the blue, crocodile tears.  An ordinary mile marker -  the same as every other one we’d passed brought them on.  A small town – Elk Point with a restaurant we’d frequented over the years, Cody’s - one of Mom’s favorite places to eat when we were on the road.  So strange that such a simple memory could carry such a breathtaking punch aimed directly at my heart.  My tears were silent ones, the kind I didn’t want to share.  They hung hot and heavy as they slid down my cheeks. 

Then, an unexpected surprise, my four-year-old daughter asking to hold my hand.  Her precious little hands stroking mine, softly and gently as if she sensed that what her mama needed most was this touch of love.

Mile Marker 77 – South Dakota

Sioux Falls - a favorite destination from my childhood.  Visiting the Empire Mall to go shopping for school clothes, sipping on Orange Julius’s in the mall’s food court, sampling candy and fudge.  Heading home exhausted, yet thrilled with all of the new purchases made – ready to start a new school year.

Mile Marker 101 – South Dakota

Our kids whine and repeat the never ending phrase – Are we there yet?   Five minutes later - Are we there yet?  Every parent’s dreaded nightmare reminded me of the vacations I took as a child.  Crossing the plains, my siblings and I roamed freely in the car, fighting for territory and back-seat privileges.  All of those sweet times when we were “stuck” in a car together and bonded even as we suffered what we thought were the worst experiences of our lives – family vacations.

Mile marker 132 – South Dakota

As we roll ever closer to our destination, a sign catches my eye, an advertisement for Applebees – a restaurant  Mom and I frequented.  So many times we’d met for lunch there.  We’d order our favorites.  As I gobbled down my food, I’d watch poor Mom struggle to eat even a few bites of what she’d ordered -  eating like a bird because her stomach wouldn’t allow her to eat too much at once. 

Mile marker 156  - South Dakota

Our destination lies near, the anticipation of driving into Watertown without her being there makes me crazy.  My husband sensing that this trip has been hard shares his earphones -  unexpectedly choosing music only he could love making me laugh at the strange beats, rhythms, crazy lyrics of his favorites.  Then, finally, choosing one song he knows I’ll like  - The Dancing Queen – lryics that I can belt out with the best of them.  I laugh and sway to the music, breaking the solemn moment with a smile.

Mile marker 177 – South Dakota

Finally, we pull off of the interstate and drive down the ramp towards town.  All those car trips, my family took, vacations, shopping, heading out to our lake cabin.  All of them rolled into one - a cinema of movies playing across the screen of my heart.  Will I be able to survive this?

We reach my brother’s house.  Climbing out of the car we head inside. It is my son’s birthday, and they have surprises waiting.  Jack’s eyes open wide when he spots the clown cake made just for him.  He eagerly opens the present they give him.  No, this isn’t home.  But it is right.  It is a good place to be.  Over the weekend we bond.  We share memories.  We laugh.  Mom would have loved it – loved all of it.  As we prepare to leave on Sunday, my sister-in-law gives me a hug and speaks a benediction of sorts, “Come back soon.  This will always be home.”  A sweet ending to a bittersweet trip. 

 

Guilt vs. Grace

             Growing up, I remember struggling with guilt a lot.  This could have been the good Lutheran girl coming out in me.  Returning home from church, I would feel this peace in my heart, but as soon as the car drove into the garage and we all piled into our house, the good feelings disappeared and I’d be back to square one.   Amazing Grace how sweet the sound for everyone except me.  Never felt good enough, or that I deserved God’s love.  All I knew was that God was somewhere up in the sky and I was just little old me down here on earth.  How could I be significant to him? 

And, I don’t know why, but there is a big part of me today that still struggles with guilt.  I would say that nine times out of ten, I am more motivated by guilt  than grace.  Kind of a sad commentary on how much I don’t get about God’s love for me.  Furthermore, I am convinced that what God wants most for me is to have me be set perfectly free in his love.  There’s a verse that I love which reminds me of how things are supposed to be. 

I run in the path of your commands for you have set my heart free.  (Psalm 119:32)

Isn’t that a beautiful thought?  Not laboriously walking, or striving, or even jogging.  No, this verse talks about a full-throttled run.  Running in the path of his commands.  That idea intrigues me.  That verse makes me want to shout for joy.  No more guilt, only grace.  So how do I get there?

Well, God’s Spirit alone can move me to understand and actively believe in this kind of love.  This was Paul’s prayer for the believers at Ephesus: 

I pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth.  I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will give you mighty inner strength through his Holy Spirit.  And I pray that Christ will be more and more at home in your hearts as you trust in him.  May your roots go down deep into the soil of God’s marvelous love.  And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high and how deep his love really is.  (Ephesians 3:14-18 NLT)

I LOVE this verse – LOVE it.  It’s one I think of often when I’m praying for myself or others.  After all, who doesn’t want that?  Who doesn’t want to understand how great God’s love is for them.  Well, I can think of one shall we call him “being” who fights like heck to make sure we don’t let our roots sink down and rest in the love of Christ.  Yup, you got it.  Our old friend, the Devil. 

I have a little story to share that might make things a little more clear.  Today, I dug up some day lilies, because I wanted to transplant them in our back yard.  After I finished this morning they were all nice and perky looking - as good as they looked in our front garden.  But at this moment, I’m staring out the window and noticing - those flowers aren’t looking too hot.  Yup, my pretty little day lilies are wilting away in the scorching sun.  Granted, I have yet to water them so that may be part of the problem, and I suppose in a little while, I will need to go out and do just that.  But as I type this, I envision those plants, how I want them to look, and I know that what I want most for them is to thrive.  Not just survive or even live, but to thrive.   And I think that’s what God wants for us.  Not just to survive, not even just to live, but to thrive.  In Jesus own words, “that we may have life and have it to the full”. (John 10:10b)

Okay, I promise I’m gonna tie this up into a neat little package before I’m done, so here are some final thoughts;  Maybe guilt is the only way to get me going in the right direction.  But if guilt is my only motivator, then I’m probably going to struggle through life just trying to survive.  But, if, by God’s Spirit, I begin to get it, to really get how great God’s love is for me, to let my roots grow down deep into the “soil of God’s marvelous love,” then I don’t think it will be guilt that motivates me anymore but, rather, grace.  Enough grace to set me free.  Enough grace to set me free to “run in the path of God’s Commands.”  A grace, a love that leads me to live a free life, a full life.  And unlike my poor wilted lilies, a grace that allows me to thrive in the midst of whatever comes my way.

What about you?  Don’t you think that God wants this for all of us?  By God’s Spirit, learn to do more than survive, or even just to live.  Let your roots go down deep into the soil of God’s marvelous love and start thriving!