Sneak, Sneak, Here Comes Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving, the holiday, not the state of thankfulness, has been creeping up on me for quite awhile.

Creep, duck down out of sight, creep some more. Get closer, creep, lie in wait, Then, all of a sudden, POUNCE!

It has jumped out of hiding, coming at me like a cat on the attack while I was busy with my watercolor class. I am not ready for this. In fact, I am not even ready to get ready, I don't have any lists made.

How many people are coming? I am not sure--eighteen for sure, maybe twenty, maybe twenty five. Who knows? I have been having Thanksgiving dinner at my house for so many years that I figure the more the merrier. Come as you are, bring a friend and some food (a bag of chips or a piece of fruit will do). There will be lots of turkey (I cook two), taters, and the usual thanksgiving fare including pumpkin desserts. I know from experience the Lord supplies all that we need. Come one and all. If there isn't room at a table, have a seat on the couch. I have TV trays somewhere around here.

Dinner time will be filled with laughter and our traditional calls back and forth between the dining room and living room tables.

"We've got turkey, yes we do. We've got turkey. How about you?"
"We've got cider, yes we do. We've got cider. How about you?"
"We've got teenagers, yes we do. We've got teenagers. How about you?"
"We've got grandmas, yes we do. We've got grandmas. How about you?"  And so it goes.

Of course, after dinner there will be the usual dish washing, board games, card games, word games, snacking, and (new this year) the recorded Seahawk game.

As I said, I am not ready. All month I have been dropping miscellaneous stuff by the front door instead of  putting it away when I make my heavy-laden grand entry. There is a plastic tote full of over-sized Legos, stuffed animals, castles and knights that had been arranged in my car trunk for the Harvest Festival at church. My theme was 'Where's Waldo?' He was hidden between Big Bird and the castle. Anyway, it is sitting beside the piano. There is also Licorice's cat carrier sitting close by. Oh, there is the sack of clothes for the clothing bank that I removed from the back seat of the car when I picked up some grand-kids last week.

These aren't the only things to redistribute. A sketch pad is on the sofa, paid bills on the window seat next to my chair, watercolor stuff spread over the dining room table as well as the kitchen bar, and some dried leaves have found their way onto the carpet.

Now back to Thanksgiving. I need to shop--turkey, cider, cranberries, ingredients for pumpkin-spice cupcakes, butter, celery and bread for dressing, rolls and mayo for sandwiches, At least the potatoes, beans, fresh veggies and fruit, salads, and more desserts will be brought by family and friends.

I was wrong when I said I wasn't ready for Thanksgiving. Thursday won't be about whether or not a tote of toys might still be by the front door or there might be some leaves on the carpet. It won't be about whether or not there might be only two desserts or at least five. I am and will continue to be ready for family and friends to gather in my home.

Speaking of home, my granddaughter is flying in from college tomorrow. When I talked to her yesterday, she sounded like a little kid on Christmas Eve--so excited to be with all her family, extended family, and friends for a few days. She is especially excited to watch the Seahawks with a family of fans.

I am so blessed. As I have written this, my thoughts have jumped from all I have to do, to all I have to be thankful for, how blessed I am, and finally to singing songs of praise like Chris Tomlin's "Shout to the Lord, let the earth hear us sing, power and majesty, praise to the King..."

Have a very blessed day of Thanksgiving next week. Sing praises to our King.

Jeannette-- I'm off to shop. "Here turkey, turkey."

Something from Nothing

Tonight was one of those nights I didn't want to fix myself something to eat, but I knew that wasn't the best solution to my inertia problem--neither was microwaved popcorn. Sadly, all the left-overs from previous meals had been eaten. I felt it was too late to thaw something, and my kitchen was devoid of food. At least in my eyes it was. Oh, what to do? What to do?

I went with the flow and ended up with a very tasty meal made from a little bit of something, yet a lot of nothing. I took the last two slices of drying-up bread from the sack (heels of course), the last of my cheddar cheese (got it on sale), half a yellow pepper (hiding in the back of the crisper, but not slimy yet), and the last of my grapes (keeping the pepper company all week).  With a presto-chango and an abracadabra, I soon was treating my taste buds to a grilled cheese sandwich accompanied by sliced peppers and cold, pop-to-the-bite grapes.

What a perfect way to end a long day--creating something wonderful out of almost nothing.

As I was giving myself a high-five and a slap on the back for my great work and creativity, the Lord sort of patted me on the top of my head and said, "Well done! Now try to create something from nothing." It wasn't a challenge or a boast. It was merely a simple reminder of his awesome power. Yet, it soon became much more than that--a kitchen parable.

While standing at my sink washing up the day's dishes, my thoughts turned to people, especially children and young adults, who feel like my kitchen cupboards and fridge had previously looked--either empty or holding nothing desirable or even usable. Hopeless, in other words, and having no future.

Well, if I can make a wonderful supper from almost nothing, and God can create the universe from absolutely nothing, just think what he can do with people who think they are nothing.

Jeremiah 29:11New International Version (NIV)11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

If only such people knew how much God loved them, sacrificed for them, and had planned for them. If only!! There is so much work to be done, and so little time to do it. So the question is, "Am I willing to work while I am still a work in progress?"

Since I will never be a perfect vessel this side of heaven, I had better do the best with what I have been given on this side of the pearly gates.   Jan

How Much, and What is All?

How Much is All? 

10/30/2014 

Around and around the questions go. It has been five days since the triggering comment was made. I don't even remember what was said, but the context was that all I have comes from God. Besides that, all that I am is because of him. He is all I need. That started my thinking, "How much, and what is ALL?"

I can look around my home and see the sofas, the carpets, the books, and the cupcake papers left from a couple mini cupcakes I just ate.. I can look around my yard and see the too-long grass, the shedding trees, the puddles of rain water, and the starlings looking for buried larva in the lawn. I can see it all, but I really don't see much of anything. I don't see parrots or flamingos, lightning bugs or dung beetles, rabbit brush or cacti. And the microscopic.......?  

 I don't see or even think about the millions of molecules and atoms my body works over each day just to keep me alive, Then there is  gravity and radiation, light waves and sound, heat and cold. Because my mind and understanding is so limited, as is all of mankind's, I know only what I know through my own experience, or by what I have read or seen about other peoples research and discovery. But ALL? I have no clue about the vastness of God's wondrous work. After all, astronomers can see no farther than the limits of their space telescopes. Oceanographers can explore no deeper than their fragile mini-subs can safely dive. Every advance in medical understanding is a mere baby-step into understanding this being called a human.

All that I have--what is all?

All that I am is too complex to even to consider. My body with its inner workings, my physical identity wrapped up in height, weight, eye color, and facial features, my DNA that decides how every cell in my body works, my mind that has continued being shaped from the time God planted my knowledge of him into me at conception--this is all me. There are spiritual gifts, talents, things I love, things I dislike, things I keep discovering about myself. But what is all and how much is it ? Only God knows.

Finally, God is all I need. That is true, but again, I can't really comprehend this concept because I usually have no idea that I really might have needs. At times I am aware of  needs I can't even pin a name on, but God knows what they are and remedies the situations before I can even pray about them. Of course there are the situations in which I have no choice but to turn to the one who gives me strength, wisdom, and provision. As for all?  I know I have had needs that God took care of before I ever understood I had the need.

I am so thankful that God's ALL is so much bigger than my all.

Oh, the marvel of ALL.

Jan



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Birthday Time.

My eyes slowly open to walls of a darkened room and a brightly lit clock in the far corner.  Even without my glasses I can easily read 6:48. The time surprises me. I have slept a solid three hours since letting Licorice Kitty out. That is nice. I had also slept three hours before letting her out. That is also nice, but I really could use another hour or two of slumber.

So, don't ask me why I am up, why I'm sitting in a dimly lit living room, or why I'm watching the trees slowly take shape as another wonderful day is born. I guess I like being surrounded by darkness. It is comforting to me. I was going to add that I like being surrounded by silence too, but it is not silent. I can hear the hummmmm of the furnace as it takes the autumn night chill off the house. I can also hear the faint meow of Licorice Kitty as she waits for me to open the front door and welcome her in.

I oblige.

Now, in the fading darkness and with the new sounds of waking birds, I wait for activity to begin. I wait for my son and his wife to arise and find their way to the sofa across the room from me. I also wait for my son to perform his morning ritual when he is here--brewing a pot of COFFEE then perfectly flavoring and presenting a cup of it to his wife and a cup to me. Aaaah, what a perfect start to a perfect day. Strong coffee and quiet conversation can be heavenly.

Also heavenly is an aroma-filled kitchen that will soon follow. There is nothing like sausage, eggs toasted bagels and juice to start the day off right. By tonight, the morning scent will have been replaced by the tantalizing aromas of lasagna and brownies. It is October birthday party time!

We had everything figured out for celebrating three birthdays today, at least that is what we thought several weeks ago, but life in busy households can change things. Tonight is the homecoming dance. A granddaughter is going to the dance and her two brothers are accompanying her, her date, and her friends to dinner. Now what?

Well, maybe we could have a special breakfast instead. Nope. My grandson has his SAT test this morning and the rest of his family has cross country practice. A mid-day dinner was also ruled out because after the SAT test there is worship practice which includes my grandson as well as my daughter and her husband. Aaaaaand, another granddaughter is at a youth leadership retreat this weekend and won't be home until late this afternoon.

So, we are back to plan A--dinner at 5:00 for those who can make it. With the kids gone, there is more lasagna for the rest of us. At least all of us except the homecoming girl will be here for ice cream sundaes or banana splits and brownies.

These are fun days indeed.

Thanks, Lord, for time with family, birthday celebrations, lasagna and ice cream.

Jan

More and More

Lord, I prayed as I read the story of Zacchaeus in Luke 19 this morning, what is there in this story that I need to know. I soon discovered there were many things that spoke to me.

I knew Zacchaeus was a short man and a rich one. I also knew that he wanted to catch a glimpse of Jesus as he passed by, but I hadn't given much thought to the crowd who blocked his view of the road. I hadn't given much thought either to the fact that Jesus stopped by a particular sycamore tree--Zacchaeus's tree. He could have stopped anywhere, but didn't.

We are told that the road was full of people. I have a feeling they were calling out, "Jesus, heal me!"

"Heal my child."

"Rabbi, are you the Messiah?"

They were also probably trying to touch him--this man they had heard worked miracles. So, with all the crowd ruckus, what made Jesus look into the overhead branches of the sycamore?

Then Jesus said, "Zacchaeus, come down." He could have talked to the crowd or said, "Hey, you, what are you doing in that tree?" Instead, he called the little man by name, made a strong request, then waited. Would Zacchaeus come down or not?

After pondering all these things, plus more, I had to ask myself some questions. Here are some of them:

1.  Zacchaeus didn't use his height as an excuse not to see Jesus. What personal traits, quirks, or perceived failures hinder us from approaching Jesus i.e.: I'm not good enough, I'm not talented enough, I, I, I,...?

2. A crowd of people didn't keep Zacchaeus from trying to see Jesus either. What exterior hindrances do we use as excuses not to approach Jesus ie: my yard work, my job, my time, my family--all those so called things in our lives?

3. When excuses and hindrances finally crumble, and we find a 'safe' place from which to see and hear this Jesus person, he will stop where we are (he knows our location) and will call out to us. There will be no doubt about whom he is calling because he will call us by name. The question is, will we come to him when he does call?  

I would like to apply this story to the unsaved person, and her only, but that doesn't work well for me especially after I memorized the first few verses of 1 Thessalonians 4.

"Finally, brothers, we instructed you how to live in order to please God, as in fact you are living. Now we ask you and urge you to do this more and more. You know what instructions we gave you by the authority of the Lord Jesus."    (my italics)

Paul, Silas and Timothy then continue to spell out some of those instructions about holy and honorable living as well loving in the manner God had taught them to love.

At his point, Zacchaeus's story and 1 Thessalonians blend together. Suddenly they are both about me especially during those times I become content living both an unchanging spiritual life and natural life. Unchanging means not living the 'more and more' I am urged to live. Can I be more and more holy and honorable? Can I be more and more loving , and more and more giving? Yes, I can, to the degree that I desire and seek Jesus more and more, and ignore excuses more and more. Jesus desires me to come down from my lofty perch and walk more and more with him. That is what I also want, but time after time I climb back up into the safety of my tree, hiding in the branches and content to become an observer again.

By grace, he still calls me by name. "Jan, come down. I'm coming to your house today."

"Okay, Lord, I'm coming down." I replay, then mutter under my breath, "Wait for about an hour. I have some cleaning to do first."

"I know," he says, "let me help. I'm good at cleansing."

A life pleasing to God is not about I'm not; it is not about my things; it is all about you, Lord--more and more of you because you are.

Jan

(The more and more part of this was inspired by my Bible study of 1 Thessalonians, Children of the Day,  by Beth Moore.)

May My Heart Overflow

It is amazing how the process of memorizing 1 Thessalonians has opened my eyes to little things I had not noticed in merely reading it. At this point, I have worked through the first three chapters, more or less. There are still a couple places I can't remember the wording. There are also times I completely leave out a few sentences only to realize the omission several verses or chapters later. I'll get it down in due time--whenever that is.

So, what has jumped out at me? First off, I was surprised that the love, compassion, and concern Paul, Silas, and Timothy had for the new believers was so strong. For some reason, I didn't expect that (#1) a group of men would describe their love of the new believers in terms of a mother tending to her children; that (#2) dealing with them as a father deals with his children would include the word 'comforting'. 'Encouraging' and 'urging' from a father seems completely natural, but for some odd reason I associate comforting with a mother, not a father. Then (#3) when this group of men was forced to leave town after spending only three Sabbaths there, the apostles express an 'intense longing' to see the church at Thessaloniki, and to know how they are doing. As they said, "We can hardly stand it."

At first, I thought I was increasing my knowledge of Paul by learning that he was more than an educated man on fire for the Lord. He was also a passionate man who was not afraid to express his feelings of love and compassion. He also as not afraid to openly express his fears. "I was afraid that somehow the tempter might have tempted you and our efforts might have been useless." I wondered if this freedom of emotional expression was due to his culture or to his amazing encounter with the Lord.  It could have been either or both.  I don't know. But I do know this, strong feelings like these men had are foreign to me personally. I have no idea what intense longing feels like. I also have never loved anyone, other than my own family, as a mother tending her little children. Somewhere in this earthly body that houses a woman named Jan is a blockage that keeps me from either feeling or allowing myself to feel. Part of it stems from my upbringing, but that is no excuse. Something bigger prevents the Lord's love for me from being emotionally felt for or expressed to others.

I will let that last sentence stand, but upon further thought, I do express my love for others, but not by saying, "I love you." I am getting better about that, but I find it hard to say it in those words. Although my emotions remain largely unseen, encouraging, comforting words from my mouth speak loudly and clearly, as do my actions, reactions, and responses. I do what I do, and say what I say because that is what is on my heart to do and say. not because I am filled with an intense, heart-felt love toward, or intense longing for, the people involved.

I could try to say that I am honestly okay with things the way they are, but I can't do that. How can I actively, sincerely, and compassionately tell people that God loves them when I am not aware of feeling that way toward them myself?  I want to be at the place that I can't stand not knowing if the shopper at Walmart or the picnicker at the park is in need of prayer and healing for a physical malady, or if they need to know Jesus.  I want what Paul, Silas, and Timothy had--a heart of Love that overflows to all I meet as well as one that can't stand not knowing how they were doing through their afflictions.

Lord, I am afraid parts of my heart are still stony and wrapped in barbed wire. Break the stone, remove the wire, and completely replace what is there. Give me a heart that  breaks and grieves as yours, cries and rejoices as yours, and Lord, may it overflow with Love as yours. Amen

Jan

Scripture used or referred to are found in 1 Thessalonians 1-3.

The image of a stony, barbed wire wrapped heart comes from a self portrait I drew for my second therapy session in 2009.

Life By the Pacific

Less than fifteen miles from my home--surfers and a bull elk!

Photos by Marianne Porter 8/2014