Donuts for Breakfast

Is there anything better than a big cup of Starbucks coffee?  Okay, maybe a big cup of Starbucks caramel macchiato.  And to go with it one (or two, or three if they’re warm) sugary Krispy Kreme donuts with chocolate icing or cream filling.  I’ll wait while you savor the thought.  And the sugar high that hits gets us up and going!  

But what happens after a couple of hours?  We lose energy, start to drag, head for the vending machines and refill on more sugar or salt.

We all know these things.  Mothers, young healthy women, wise older grammas.  We know that to start the day we need juice, whole grains, milk, fruit, yogurt – healthy stuff!  This food doles out energy as our body needs it and keeps us going.

I got up this morning and, as usual, hit the laptop first.  I have a mental list of visits I make every day – check email, look for Facebook notifications, see what’s going on with Facebook friends; weather channel for the next 10 days; pinterest to see if anyone pinned any of my pins; iGoogle for world, US and entertainment headlines; back to Facebook for Words with Friends.  This keeps me busy and interested; but I’ve found that sometimes it also makes me a little discontented and grumpy.  I mull over dissatisfaction, feel slighted in some way, forget to be thankful for this very blessed life I’m leading.

It’s an old story – get up and read your Bible first!  We hear it too often.  But truth, God’s Word, is our oatmeal with cinnamon and apples, our granola with blueberries.  It is our life sustainer, our energy, our time-release pick-me-up that keeps us going with peace, gratitude, and hope throughout our day.

So I guess this is notice to my Words with Friends..friends.  You won’t be hearing from me as early as you did.  I’m changing my morning routine.  I’m going for healthy.

Psalm 119:27, 30-32
Let me understand the teaching of your precepts; then I will meditate on your wonders.   I have chosen the way of truth; I have set my heart on your laws.  I hold fast to your statutes, O LORD; do not let me be put to shame. I run in the path of your commands, for you have set my heart free.

All in God's Time

I don’t have much luck with Christmas cactus.  So when my friend gave me one at a Christmas party two years ago, I smiled and made a mental note to try extra hard.  I put the pot on a shelf in the den where it would get indirect light and watered it tentatively. It lived. Barely.  Occasionally it would drop a little branch and I would fuss over it when I watered.  We coexisted as wary friends, a little afraid of each other. 

In early spring I move my plants outside to do their spring and summer growing.  They get strong and healthy enough to survive the dryness of the winter and my apathetic attitude that sets in about mid-January.  This year I put the little cactus outside.  It thrived and grew to twice its size.  When I brought my plants inside this fall, I looked for a special place for the cactus.  I put it in the kitchen window to make me smile as I cleaned up supper dishes.

It has been enjoying its new inside spot for almost three weeks now.  For some, a blooming Christmas cactus is no big deal.  For me, a living Christmas cactus is something.  A blooming one is a blessing indeed.  Imagine my surprise when I saw little flowers at the end of every single branch!  I thought, “Why now?”  It’s been outside all summer with loads of sunshine and rain and fresh air. 

How many times have I gone through spiritual renewal with prayer and Bible study taking new priority?   Faithful for a few weeks, when my life didn’t seem to be getting better, I would give it up.  I didn’t give God the time to draw me close, to allow me to get to know Him through his Word.  Occasionally He allows us to see a great change immediately or in a very short time.  But sometimes, He wants to see our commitment.  Are we willing to hang in there with Him over the rough and the good times?  Are we willing to commit the time it takes to bloom?

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

Letting Go

Every season has its firsts, but fall has my favorites – the first fire in the fireplace, first hot cider, first frost, turning on the heat in the house and pulling out my favorite sweaters from the storage container.  I wait until I’m sure the weather has turned, that it’s not going to trick me with another few days of leftover summer heat. 

Unpacking winter clothes is no chore for me.  That wool, chenille and snuggly velour promise days to come of seeing my breath on the air, snowy meetings with grandchildren, and decorations of holly and pine.  

Sometimes I’m surprised with some piece of clothing that I picked up in spring on “super sale” so late in the season I never wore it.  It’s fresh and vibrant and makes me feel good when I put it on.  While that’s a delight for me, I keep digging until I come to my old friends.  I have a couple of sweaters that I always go back to.  They gave up their shape seasons ago and they have pulls and fuzzy balls.  I look pretty sloppy and careless when I’m wearing them.  But they’re my old favorites and I have a hard time giving them up.

Isn’t that the way with our old habits and tendencies?  We like to gossip, just can’t help it.  The shopping channels and catalogs lure us in just one more time. Our minds wander back to that person we tend to criticize and we mentally tell them just what we think.

We know what God knows – we cannot do this on our own.  He has said “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you…” (Ezekiel 36:26a)  We need this fresh start, not once or twice, but continually and consistently.  We need to go to God as many times a day as it takes to restore our sinful nature with a clean one.  He’s pleased to help us get rid of the old misshapen, fuzzy inclinations.  But I’m keeping the sweaters.

Psalms 51:10\

Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.

The Biggest Rock

Our church in Virginia was experiencing growing pains.  We had sold our building and were in the process of building a larger sanctuary and classrooms.  The process ended up taking a few years.  


Our pastor likened it to the wilderness travels of the Israelites.  Each Sunday two big trucks would pull up to the local high school and a team of “Levites” would transform the building from a school to a church complete with Sunday school rooms.  As a backdrop for the series of wilderness wandering sermons, we had replicas of articles the Hebrews used in the tabernacle.


Toward the end of our “journey”, we built an altar to celebrate crossing the Jordan into the Promised Land.  As we came into the auditorium, there were big bins filled with stones and we were each to take one to participate in the ceremony.  I shopped for a second and then chose the biggest one I could see.

Steve and I found a place to sit and I looked down at the sizeable rock in my lap.  I was overcome with a sense of shame.  Why did (do?) I need to have the biggest, the best, the first?  That rock became my symbol of my pride.  I participated in the ceremony, but I placed my rock with the others in some shame.

I have since learned that this rock, my pride, is the boulder I carry around my neck.  It is the thing that God most wants me to overcome.  And with His minute-by-minute help, I will do it.  My hope is that my “rock” will become smaller and smaller until one day, I won’t be able to find it!  I know that day is coming when Jesus returns, but what a goal to work toward in the meantime!

John 3:30; Romans 12:10; Mark 10:43-45

He must become greater; I must become less…Be devoted to one another in brotherly love.  Honor one another above yourselves…whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.

Looking for the Right Piece

Because I am an only child, I grew up hanging out with my cousins for company. We spent many summer days sitting around a card table with jigsaw puzzle pieces spread out in front of us. We would spend hours in complete silence as we concentrated on whatever section of the puzzle captured our interest (translate “seemed easiest”).

Somehow the puzzles got put up on the shelf when I began to raise my own family. We moved around a lot while Steve was in the army and, when he retired and started another career in northern Virginia, the kids were older and our lives were just too busy and full to take on a hobby that could eat up hours of time. I still took puzzles when we went on vacation and I had time to sit and enjoy them.

Imagine my delight when I was last in northern Virginia and I discovered my son’s family sitting around a puzzle table! This week they are all here in South Carolina and we are celebrating the “August girls” birthdays – my son’s fiancé Erika, her daughter Eliza, Claire, Maggie and I all share August birthdays. We opened a table full of presents and one of mine was a puzzle with a picture of, how fitting, a beagle puppy, daisies and a basketful of green apples.

So we’ve spent hours together working this puzzle. And this morning, while the other adults were playing golf and the kids were still sleeping, I came out to work on it a little while I watched for hummingbirds.

This puzzle has 1500 pieces. I was putting apples together and, as I picked up the box to plow through the pieces, it occurred to me that there were probably 200 pieces, of which many were apple ones, already lain out on the table.

We love God and we want to serve Him. So we go searching for just the right place and opportunity. Don’t get me wrong. Ephesians 2:10 tells us, “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” And I believe He has done just that. So I do pray hard about what it is that He wants me to do.

But I also believe that I spend a lot of time “looking in the box for the right piece”, when there are “pieces” all around me that I could work with – and that would serve God.

Falling Down Healthy

I can’t remember where I bought it – my gorgeous, large-leafed dieffenbachia. But I can tell you when. We moved to South Carolina two years ago and I had to leave all my beloved houseplants back in Virginia. Don't get too sad; know that I left them all in good homes with friends who care.

Before you plant/animal people start berating me for having “dumb cane” in my house, let me tell you that yes, I am aware that the leaves can cause numbness and are toxic. But first, my grandchildren are well over the age of 5 and, frankly, if I catch them chewing the leaves of my houseplants, I think we have much more serious issues to address. And my dogs aren’t in the least interested in them.

I love this plant. I think my affinity for them goes back to the years we were stationed in Hawaii. Steve and I bought a “trunk” of one at a flea market. It was literally a stub with a couple of limbs on either side, the diameter being about seven inches. The man who sold it to us for less than five dollars assured us that it would come out and grow to be beautiful. With a little bit of a sense that we’d bought magic beans, we took it home and potted it. Within weeks, shoots of leaves began to sprout. When we left Hawaii (and our beloved dieffenbachia), it stood over five feet tall, with leaves over twenty inches in length.

We’ve not had that success since, but we do seem to have a knack for growing them. The plant I bought two years ago when we came here is absolutely beautiful with healthy, large leaves.

Imagine my disappointment when I walked through the great room yesterday and found it lying on its side in the pot! I immediately thought of root rot, usually caused by overwatering. I’ve loved more than one plant to death and I figured I’d done it again.

I was pleased when I felt into the dirt and found strong, healthy roots. The problem is that the plant needs a bigger pot and the roots need to be planted deeper. (I’m so pleased you’re already getting the message on this one!) As I told you, all my lessons learned lately by listening or reading seem to point to the need for healthy roots and being firmly attached to the vine of Jesus for spiritual health and in order to produce good fruit.

About three months ago right after the New Year, I was “soaring with eagles.” My Bible studies were going well and I was doing some writing. My Christmas things were pretty well packed away. My house was in order and my calendar was under control. I was on Weight Watchers and the pounds were melting away. I felt like I knew what God’s will was for my life for the next several weeks and I was feeling confident. I was on top of the world and I was in control!

Then wham! I got zapped with a bronchial infection combined with insurance issues and a doctor who had left town. I carried a chest and head cold for two weeks and left to go on a cruise with not much hope. Asking for prayer was on my “to do” list along with unpack capris and pick up EmergenC and NyQuil.

And all along I was moving farther away from Him and repeating my mantra, “I can do this, I just need to be a grown-up.” So I coughed and sniffled my way across the Caribbean and landed back in South Carolina with pretty much the same cold but with far fewer reserves. I was beaten down physically and completely too tired for praying or getting into scripture. I wanted nothing but rest and sleep. And had I not been so tired, I’d have taken the time to ask God why, oh why, had He not taken care of this?

I ended up with a case of the flu and an illness that stretched out well over six weeks. But more than that, I carried a sense of resentment that God had not chosen to heal me more quickly. How had I, a “healthy plant” been laid so low so quickly? Turns out my leaves looked fine but my roots were not planted deep enough. I was reading scripture and praying, but mainly I was living life under my own steam, going through all the correct motions.

I was flying so high I had forgotten that the updrafts come completely from God. I had abandoned the truth that I am totally dependent on His grace and mercy. All He asks in return is that I love Him and depend on Him completely. So I’m continuing the prayer and Bible study, but I’m stretching my roots deeply enough to take advantage of His love, care, and protection.

Ezekiel 17:5, 6; Romans 11:18
He took some of the seed of your land and put it in fertile soil. He planted it like a willow by abundant water, and it sprouted and became a low, spreading vine. Its branches turned toward him, but its roots remained under it. So it became a vine and produced branches and put out leafy boughs...Do not boast over those branches. If you do, consider this: You do not support the root, but the root supports you.

One Tiny Branch

I jumped the gun this year. I bought hanging baskets and bedding plants a couple of weeks before I was supposed to. Our weather reminds me of that – yesterday’s hard wind and today’s cooler temps. I think we’re safe though, far from my sweet Virginia friends who are expecting snow this Sunday.

When we bought the house, we fell in love with the smallish live oak that had been planted in the back corner of our yard. It was our little piece of real South Carolina. We’ve been amazed at how quickly it has grown. The shade it produces gets us through the summer. My oasis from the heat, it shelters a pretty flower garden and bench. It was strategically planted so that the sun sets behind it and we get relief from the late afternoon summer glare. I captured some Spanish moss that had been set free by some landscapers and now it truly is our reminder of where we live.

Our oak is a beautiful, dignified and impressive tree. Yet as I sit on my porch this morning looking out, my eye is continually drawn to a place close to the trunk about three feet from the ground. There hangs a beautiful impatiens basket filled with fuchsia, pale pink and white. I suspended it from a small branch yesterday and it has completely stolen my attention from the tree.

As so often happens, lately the devotionals I read, the sermons I hear, books, Sunday school lessons and Bible study all tend to repeat messages about being a part of the vine, pruning, deep roots down into water, having sustenance during drought, etc. And as almost always happens, I notice the trend and begin looking for some great plan that God has for my life pertaining to what I’ve heard. I’m getting the idea that He just wants me to get the point!

As He sometimes does, this morning He’s used my quiet porch time to do that. Although the oak is impressive and some of its branches are sturdy and strong, the one little branch that’s doing the work of holding my basket is the one that’s blessing me these days. It’s the branch that’s bearing fruit.

Do you sometimes wish you were doing something grand and inspirational? Do you wonder if anyone’s noticing or if you’re invisible? Know that fixing a taco salad, making sure there’s clean underwear, driving kids to any of the assortment of things they have to attend, just loving someone with a hug or a smile – these things are a bouquet of beauty to someone. I’m resisting going down a “bloom where you’re planted” road, but it’s true, isn’t it? God’s will for our lives usually involves doing the next chore, making the next phone call, wiping the next nose and doing it with a cheerful heart. You are showing Jesus' love in the little things. You are somebody’s fruit basket!

John 15:16, 17
You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit—fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. This is my command: Love each other.

My Grown-Up Christmas Wish

Last night I had the Christmas dream again.

What woman doesn’t have an ideal Christmas vision with the house decorated beautifully, dozens of different kinds of cookies baked, fudge and divinity in pretty crystal dishes everywhere, and loads of gifts wrapped with coordinating paper under a massive nostalgic, overly lit up, yet oh-so-tasteful Christmas tree. Well behaved, well-dressed smiling family waiting on the couch for the perfect photo for the card. Am I letting my analyst side take over again?

Truly when I was a young mom I did have a dream about once a month without fail. Always, in the dream it was a couple of days before Christmas or Christmas Eve. I was usually crying, having realized that I had let it slip up on me once again. I was distressed because the tree was never decorated and I didn’t have gifts for everyone. But the real heartache lay in the sense that I had somehow failed to enjoy it. The season was already almost over and I had somehow come up short. And I would have to wait another whole year. I would wake up with a heavy heart and the sense that I had once again missed the boat somehow, even if it was mid-April or July.

In reality as I got older, I got better at the game. I was more organized. It was still stressful, but I was getting it done. The kids seemed happy with Christmas and, though I never seemed to have time enough to do everything I needed/wanted to do and just “enjoy”, my efforts succeeded. And the dream, while still disturbing, occurred less and less frequently. But, more important, when I did dream it, I woke up less sick at heart. I was somehow achieving what I needed to.

I never stopped to think about why I was having it. It seemed obvious to me that I had somehow put way too much pressure on myself to achieve this holiday perfection that was impossible to accomplish. I just figured I was doing it better somehow. The dream disappeared about ten years ago and I wasn’t sorry to see it leave.

So when I woke up this morning, heavy-hearted more that the dream was back than from the content, I began to try to figure out why. There were all the obvious reasons. The weather was cool and gray. I had been listening to my usual November Christmas carols and getting daily updates from ABC Family’s 25 Days of Christmas on Facebook.

I tried to remember the essence. The decorations were a piece of it but they didn’t seem that important. The overriding concern was that it was late on Christmas Eve, I couldn’t do any shopping and I had nothing to give my family.

Is it possible that it can be that obvious? That I honestly don’t believe I have anything left to give my children and my grandchildren? I don’t for a minute think that is so. I wonder if it’s not about the fact that I’m feeling the need to pass along more meaningful gifts – lasting gifts. I offered them my best – my faith – from the time they were small. But is there some other something that I need to give?

Ironically, it’s November 4th. I still have more than enough time to prepare. My hope – my wish – is that I can figure out what it is that I’m feeling the need to give and, more importantly, that I will have the courage to give it.

Watch out kids. It may not be a Wii Christmas. Sorry Steve, the Golf Warehouse may take me off their catalog list. Can I somehow wrap up peace, joy, humility, love, gentleness – some gift that keeps on giving? Then maybe this dream will have spoken to me for the last time.

Sometimes Faith Is about Nothing

I believe that God intends for me to write. And when I seriously consider the question (and seriously consider actually sitting down and spending time at the laptop), He usually confirms that for me. He did that again through a sweet friend this morning.

Actually opening a blank Word document when I have absolutely nothing, no thoughts, ideas or creativity at the front of my mind is a scary prospect. I say that I believe He wants me to write. But that means also that I must believe He will provide. I have nothing to offer here. Never did.

A couple of years ago, a friend and I felt led to write a devotional book together. While we didn’t finish it, we did each write about forty or so devotions as we were working toward that goal. It was an exciting time for each of us because it was such an exercise in faith and trust. Neither of us had written devotionals before and we had no thoughts out of the gate. We were literally just waiting each few days for God to give us something.

And He was so faithful to do just that. One of us would call the other one and say, “Guess what just happened? I found some crickets in my garage!” And out of those strange circumstances, God would give us some kind of message to share.

So here I sit with you. Waiting and trusting that He will provide. I am determined to post today, so grab some sweet tea because this may take a while. It is the first time I’ve done this with utterly nothing to go on. Usually I have at least seen a field of daisies or something to get me started. Well, Travis killed a spider this morning, but I’m not feeling any messages there.

But isn’t that sometimes the point? We have an issue or a relationship that requires what only God can give. We don’t have what it takes to fix it – we know this. So we read the Bible and we pray and we confer with friends. We say we will trust – we will have faith and be strong.

But the weeks stretching ahead – sometimes even the long hours of a single day – tell us by their very lack of activity, that this thing isn’t going to get solved soon. And we’re frustrated by the lack of control. If we could just DO something.

Wow. I left to go get a sandwich. And you, friends that you are, stuck with me. I looked throughout the house for some small token that would trigger something to help me bring this one home. And here I stand, hands still empty.

The process of writing (and life) sometimes requires that we toss the worries out the back door, settle into the rocker with a cup of coffee, and trust that this long, dry spell is God’s way of forcing us to get quiet and do some listening.

If this is your first trip to the back porch, welcome and believe me when I tell you this is a first. I don’t usually hang my empty screen out to dry in front of everyone. But today I feel like this “nothing” is the message. That the waiting is something we all do and the confident expectation that God will deliver is more important than the field of daisies.

Psalm 5:3; 27:14
In the morning, O LORD, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation. Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.

Whatever the Task

Certain verses conjure up strong memories for all of us – the old “standards” learned in Sunbeams (for the really ancient of us), GA’s, Acteens, Awanas. We hear them and, not only are they familiar to us, but they transport us to another place and time.

Familiarity can be a great thing, ranking right up there with tradition. But it can also have a negative connotation – suggesting boredom, staleness, taking for granted. I think sometimes we do this with those old verses we learned so long ago. So I was grateful this week when God gave me a fresh picture of one of my favorites.

Since we are retired military, we do our grocery shopping at Shaw Air Force Base. I suppose I’m not unique in that, when I see a jet take off, I get a thrilled clutch in the pit of my stomach. Most especially I love the noise. We were driving a block over from the airfield and I saw a…sorry folks, I don’t know my planes…fighter jet take off and bank a deep turn and head straight up into the sky. My heart did a flipflop but my attention was immediately diverted when Steve slowed to a stop for a young man in uniform carrying a bag of trash across the street to a dumpster.

Both men, the pilot and the man walking across the street, wore the same uniform (well not the identical uniform, but you get my drift). Both serve the same country and belong to the same branch of service. But their jobs that particular day were vastly different.

At once, I was sitting in a circle in my childhood church with my fellow sunbeams, surrounded by the flannel board and the pictures of the good Samaritan and of Jesus with the lamb across His shoulders. And we were saying our verse for the week. “Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might.” That sentiment became such a part of my everyday life that I usually forgot its message.

The entire verse is as follows:
“Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might, for in the grave, where you are going, there is neither working nor planning nor knowledge nor wisdom.” (Ecclesiastes 9:10)

I’m assuming our leader thought the verse in its entirety was both too long and too dark for us wee ones. But reexamined as an adult, I take both encouragement and motivation from it. It says I have this one chance to become more like Jesus. I have this one chance to do whatever I’m doing with enthusiasm and love.

So whether you’re teaching a circle of toddlers a powerful story lesson or wiping down their toys with disinfectant wipes, be encouraged! Do it with all you’ve got. Whether you’re watching a son or daughter walk down the graduation aisle with pride or changing yet one more set of sheets that have been messed up by a little one with an upset stomach, know that what you’re doing matters. We all serve the same loving Father and He expects the best we have to offer Him!