Bless You!

And what if I did not ask the LORD today to bless me,

        but that I focused my day on blessing Him?

Not “look at what I can do for You”

but “how can I bless You, O LORD?”

Not just by words,

             or doings,

      but by my life.

     And quite suddenly,

           the day takes on a different agenda,

      a recalibration,

      a renewal,

      purposes deeper than I can see.

What has He put on my plate today,

who has He placed on my path,

in what situations am I knee-deep,

      that I can bless Him?

Loving God.

Loving others.

 

With what shall I come before the LORD,

and bow myself before God on high?

…He has showed you, O man,

what is good,

and what does the LORD require of you

but to do justice,

and to love kindness,

and to walk humbly with your God?

                        Micah 6. 6,8

For Service in English, Please Press 2

My internet was not working yesterday afternoon and evening, not unusual since my village is still cleaning up from a big storm a week ago.  I just figured the overhead lines were still being worked on.  But when I still could not get online early this morning, I knew there was something wrong.  And oh, I dreaded calling my wireless service provider, knowing that I could clean my entire house in the time it would take to get a REAL person to answer the phone and help me.  The oh-so-friendly-automated voice greeted me like an old friend.  Please enter your account number.  Residential or commercial?  Long distance or internet?   At one point, the computerized voice even said, “I didn’t understand you.”  Really?  I am talking to a computer?  After several bouts of returning to the main menu and repeated options, I attempted a shortcut by finally saying the words “customer service” each time I was given an obtuse choice.

The young woman who eventually came on the line asked me the same questions as the automated voice.  She then began asking diagnostic questions, obviously being read from a printed list in front of her.  She had me climbing up and down my staircase watching what the modem was doing, what kind it was, what model number, what happens when you …?  She had me enter selective codes and delve into the mysterious realm of software settings.   The technological infant in me was getting nervous, afraid that I would somehow erase the hard drive.  She not so quickly  surmised that the problem was not the network, but my computer.  “Somehow the computer is not connecting to the wireless network,” she said in the same words I told her 45 minutes before.   “Maybe you need to talk to one of our computer specialists,” she suggested in a voice that made me ask “how much is this going to cost?”  I declined her offer and hung up, realizing now that I should have interrupted my husband at work in the first place or called my computer genius daughter.

I opted to call my daughter.   “My wireless isn’t working,” I said. 

“On your keyboard, there should be a little icon that looks like a radio tower,” she said.  “Click that.”  And immediately, I was connected. 

I had wasted forty-five minutes of my life, wading through complicated technological procedures, and all I had to do was click a single button?

And in my daily life, how many times do I waste valuable time and effort going through the gyrations of doing things MY way, making things a lot more difficult than they need to be, and not seeking the LORD’S guidance until I have made a mess or traveled totally the wrong way?   A little prayer at the onset of my day or situation or dilemma can open up my eyes and heart and mind to the most fruitful solutions.  “Reveal Your day for me, LORD.”  A single click or a 45 minute detour?

“All you have to do is ask.”

 

If any of you lacks wisdom,

let him ask God,

who gives to all men generously

and without reproaching,

and it will be given him.

                  James 1.5

Unmapped Roads and Toothless Dogs

It was right there all along.  I had passed the intersection a hundred times, and I had never noticed it before.  I didn’t know where it led, just another meandering country road heading deep between the hills.  I had left it alone, unexplored, until this week.  And it took me by surprise.  On advice of some of my daughters and literally running short of time one day, I ran the path not taken.  I wove along a black ribbon of asphalt through fields and past neat cottages with well-loved gardens and scenic red barns worthy of painting.  Around each bend and over the crest of every hill, I confronted my fear of snarling unrestrained “yard dogs,”  who lurk in the shadows beneath front porches eagerly anticipating the furious pursuit of anything that moves down their road, including a lone defenseless runner, bad dogs just having a little fun.  That paralyzing panic was dissipated when on the course I saw only one pathetic little dachshund tied to a chain and a large black hound resting in the sun who didn’t even bother to lift his head.  I heard roosters crowing, startled a small brown cow hiding himself in the coolness of a culvert, and yielded to the occasional pick-up and tractor that shared the roadway.  The drivers greeted me with a Tennessee wave, a single index finger raised just slightly above the steering wheel.  Each day that I ran this new route, I ventured a little further down the road, past yet another white clapboard Baptist church, pushing myself up the hillsides, and basking in what little shade the trees offered.  It was a beautiful glimpse of God’s creation.  And I had never known what I was missing.

What else am I missing?  What paths are not on my radar, what roads go unnoticed, how much does familiarity blind me and bind me to the usual, what delights in life do I miss because I live as if adventure doesn’t exist, enslaved by puny thinking and afraid of fierce dogs that don’t exist?

I woke up in the middle of last night by a crowd of foes overwhelming me by their banners of despair and gloom, speaking deceit in loud voices of things outside my control and taking advantage of dormant worries that are always willing to jump in the brawl against me.  And before I could head down that path, thinking wildly “oh dear, what can I do?”  God planted another thought in my mind, NOT a cry of despair, but “LORD, show me how to navigate this situation.  Reveal Yourself to me, YOUR way, whether a paved road, a path through the woods, or even into the thicket of the unknown where I have never dared to tread.”  Sometimes the way to deliverance is straight through, face to face with what we fear, but never has to be done alone.  I can struggle on my own, or I can seek His help in working through it, tapping into a different path of His own making, He who makes what was previously invisible now quite obvious, step by step.

And like that little country road, He reveals to us that which is new – new ways of looking at a problem, new grace in a tough relationship, new eyes to see solutions to which I was blind, a new heart to love others, a new mind to think Christianly about all things, new paths to enlarge my borders or to fulfill what is already set before me.  And it may be that which is right in front of me all along.

Lead me, O LORD, in Your righteousness

because of my enemies;

make Your way straight before me.

                            Psalm 5.8

Why We Do What We Do

I ran today for the first time in about a week, due to a slight issue with my ankle.  As I had the opportunity to run my favorite nature cove in the mountains, I don’t think crutches could have held me back this morning.  Sunlight cut through the branches of the trees overhead, and it was as if I was running through the most magnificent of cathedrals.  I love this time to stretch my muscles, absorb the radiance, and breathe the cool breezes of a mountain morning.  About a half mile into my run, I heard the thunder of feet behind me.  Within seconds, I was surrounded, passed, and left in the dust by a large group of teenage cross country runners, like a stream rushing past a rock.  They ran effortlessly, their muscles so fresh, their laughter floating in the air.  I appeared to be running in place.  But I took great solace in noting that I was probably as old as some of their grandmothers. 

Music played on my ipod, but it served only as background music for my thoughts.  Running gives me the freedom to think. letting ideas and prayers and solutions rise to the surface, emerging from backburner status to the forefront of my thoughts.  Sometimes it is enough just to slide into cruise control, enjoying the scenery.   But almost always, something appears on my radar -- a story, a crazy idea, prayer for someone I haven’t thought about for awhile, or a bear or two.  And sure enough, about halfway into my run, God put someone on my path.  We ran the hills and chatted, a father of four, some of whom were part of that cross country team.   Everyone has a story.

And God reminded me today why I run.  Because there is always something deeper to what I do.  There are other purposes at stake whether I am running, going to an office, or taking care of things at home, a working on my heart or a measure of understanding, an opportunity to encourage or to share the love of Jesus in palpable ways.  So, the most profound thing that you do may not be that important presentation you slaved over, but the conversation you had beforehand with someone with a broken spirit.  It may not have been that well-executed classroom lesson, but listening to the tears or dreams of a student after class.  Scrubbing a floor on my hands and knees may not appear significant at all in the grand scheme of things, but it is the mindset of being willing to do whatever God puts on my plate today, even if that greater purpose is never realized in this lifetime.  God is using you.

There is purpose in all things,

        deeper than I can comprehend.

   I have only

     to follow Him into it

and do what is before me

               with all my heart

                                and soul

                                and mind

                    and strength.

    He takes care of the rest,

      those things below the surface

           that reverberate throughout eternity.

 

For I am doing a work in your days,

     that you wouldn’t believe, if told.

                                    Habakkuk 1.5

Morning Sounds

As I sat over coffee early one morning last week, little birds sang a delightful chorus outside my open window.  And then, suddenly, all I could hear was CAAAAWWWW!!  CAAAWWW!!  Two black birds sat in the trees and complained loudly, invading the peace of the morning, slicing though the gentleness of a new day, setting my heart on edge. 

And I thought, whoa, I hope that I don’t sound like THAT!  Like a loud, complaining crow?  Not a great way for anyone to start the day.

As I used to say to our girls when they would say something harsh or unkind, “What is a different way to say that?”

Speak the truth, yes, but always in love, wrapped in grace.

At the end of the day, I saw yet another black bird fly into a neighboring tree, bellowing his annoying cry of complaint through the summer air.  I had enough of that.  “You will not take up residence here,” I thought outloud.  I clapped my hands sharply three or four times to chase it away.  And not one, but SIX, of the birds flew out of the surrounding trees, rapidly out of sight and sound.  And in the ensuing days, they have not been back.  Those cries of despair and complaint can be banished from becoming permanent and annoying members of our households or personal lives.  It doesn’t have to be that way.  But it takes deliberate action to keep murmuring and harsh words from landing and nesting there.   

Of all the teachers our children had through the years, the kindness of one is far distinguished from the rest.  Mrs. O’s first-grade classroom was orderly and happy.  The children responded immediately and willingly to her requests.  And she never raised her voice.  Gentleness prevailed.  When I asked her how she did it, she replied, “Velvet over steel.”  Her firm expectations were coated in grace and love and a kind quiet voice.  She knew that force and harshness only stir up anger, stubbornness, and trouble.  She also knew that she set the tone for the classroom.  She could not expect the children to respond, if she was always reacting.

Morning sounds reverberate throughout the day.

And it starts with me.

 

…and the teaching of kindness

              is on her tongue.

                 Proverbs  31.26