Arkansas. It's already hot here.

Hi wolfies!
I think we are far enough along in our relationship together that I can tell you a few things.
1. I ate two and a half cups of ice-cream last night.
My friend and I went to Sonic and I ordered a Strawberry Shake. A small strawberry shake. Now, a small shake is two and a half cups. I don't even want to think how big a large is.
And for those readers who have been reading for awhile you will know that I don't even like desserts! On my List Of Vices ice-cream is not one of them!
What in the world was I thinking?
But can I tell you an even worse truth? Not only did I eat the WHOLE thing, but I scraped the sides of the cup when I was done. I mean, WHY? Clearly two and a half cups had been sufficient. But somewhere in my mind I could hear "but I paid for that!" I did not care that it was ten at night. Cup scraping somehow seemed necessary. I spent money on it.
Vacation ruins all of my self control.
And speaking of no self control on vacation. Here is my second thing:
2. I woke up this morning and had a headache.

I don't get headaches.

This came totally out of left field.

I almost gasped when realization hit.
It had been like eighteen hours since I had had a cup of coffee.

Oh no.

Oh NO!!! This was a caffeine headache! Or a lack of caffeine headache!!

Oh no. This can't be happening.

This means I have crossed over.
My body runs on caffeine.
I think I am addicted.
BUT I DON'T WANT TO BE ADDICTED!

I was relaying all of these thoughts and headaches to my friend this morning and said "I think I am addicted to caffeine. And I think I need to get rid of this addiction."
She was not completely supportive.
"Why would you ever want to do that?!??!?" she said in a spare-to-the-world voice.
See, my friend is way more into the throes of caffeine than I am.
And people in throes usually like buddies.

While I like being her buddy, maybe we can just keep our relationship afloat through all of our other bonds.
Like that we are both females.
And Christians.
And world travelers.
And brilliant.

I am still processing all of this.

Time will tell how this works without our bonds of caffeine.
:)
I am sure we will do just fine.

Oh. And one last thing. It is already hot here.
Like, I have had skirts on. And tank tops.
Which is great. For me.
But let's just put it this way: I have really fair skin.
Glaringly fair.

Yikes.
Not all things that are good for me are good for everybody else.

Love you all!

Consequence.

I was in airports today.
And airports, fortunately have lounges. All I can say is "Thank you, Dallas-Fort Worth, for letting me eat my yogurt on my ten-minute layover in such luxury."

This week I am in Arkansas, visiting one of my best friends.
And much like travel, airplanes can give one different perspectives on things. They are interesting experiences. Seeing the world below from the angle above...well...amazingly enough....it makes you see things differently.
Rivers and Great Lakes and mansions all seem very small. Flying over an affluent area of a city, in one eye-full you can see 45 houses that are worth more than a million dollars a piece.
In one eye-ful. $50 million.
Now, maybe it is just the society I live in, but sums of $50 million are not usually before my eyes.
Doesn't that sound like such a big amount? People committ heinous crimes to gain sums of money that are much smaller than that.
And yet, seeing it with my eyes, thinking about how many jobs those houses created, thinking of the lives lived in all those houses, well...it all seems very small.
And suddenly I realize that $50 million is nothing at all.
It's only 45 houses.
In one neighborhood, in one city, in one state, in one country, on one continent.
$50 million. Most likely less than 300 people.
How interesting. That amount of money is of virtually no consequence.
It's all so small.
And I can't help but think, "Our whole life is fake, isn't it?" All we see and touch and work our whole lives for---that stuff isn't real. It all is of no value.
I will probably never have $50 million. On land, it's too much, it's too big. It will probably be unattainable to me. And from up there in that plane I am ok with it. I don't want to think it is of any consequence.

I spilled my orange juice on my flight today.
And I had white pants on.
My thoughts were instantly removed from thinking about the nothingness of $50 million to thinking about the gravity of massive proportions of my now orange-spotted pants. My black shirt-dress didn't get touched with a drop, but from the knee down on my right leg, into my gorgeous bag, all over my pink, vintage clutch, on my journal---that all got rained on.
"Aw, shoot" I said aloud and stood up to retrieve some napkins from the flight-attendant-in-drink-service-process.
"Do you want another drink?" she said. I wa brought back to my 35,000 feet reality.
"No, it's of little consequence," I thought.
I love the bag that got spilled on. And I really liked my white pants. So I was really glad my mind had been previously settled.
5 minutes prior to the spill I had thought about $50 million and all the lives of scurrying people involved in that, and how it all really is of little consequence. And I looked at those houses and I thought, "None of those people are taking it with them. THey are only taking "they" with them."
Isn't that the craziest thought? We die, and we don't even take the clothes on our back. All of our stuff, all of our money, all we work for, achieve, and acquire, it all stays here. It all gets left behind.
It's all of little consequence.
How silly would it have been if I had gotten upset about my white pants?
How silly would it be if I got riled about my pretty bag?
How silly is it when we get tense about anything in our houses, bank accounts, closets, garages, offices?

We're not taking it with us.
It's of no consequence. As Ella would say, "Oh honey, it's just stuff."
The only thing of any consequence is that which we take with us. That which isn't just stuff.

On Dominion

At Al and Ella’s there is a garden.

Ok, that’s a gross understatement. There are lots of gardens.

But by this one particular garden there is a fence. And on the other side of this fence is a forest.

A wilderness, if you will, full of all the things that are in wild forests: Trees, weeds, vines, grasses, fallen logs, animals and snakes and mushrooms of all kinds, I am positive. It’s completely uncut; no one has a handle on it.
And if I am being honest, I also want to say that it’s pretty much the boss. Yeah, there is a fence up, but what good does that do against things that grow whether you put them there or not? That fence doesn’t stop those things from coming where they shouldn’t, we just have to keep pulling up those roots and spraying the weeds.

I started a regular exercise program about two years ago. With the exception of a knee injury here, and a few weeks of brutal cold or heat there, I have pretty much been going strong. But in speaking of brutal cold (ok, this winter wasn’t brutal cold…but I did need to wear coats and gloves and boots still), the winter brings different kind of exercises. I can’t be outside running around or biking or whatever, so I have to resort to things I can do in front of a tv screen. Like pilates, and push-ups, and double leg-lifts.

Those things are not really cardio type exercises, so while my balance was REALLY good, I am very convinced that my lung capacity left something to be desired.

The weather is unreasonably warm (yes, I said unReasonably, in addition to being unSeasonal), and while I hate to say goodbye to winter so early, it would be wrong of me to not be outside doing something. Like running.

Did I mention that I haven’t been doing any cardio for like….let’s say….4 months? That’s like 120 days, which is 1/3 of a year. No cardio. No pumping breath into me.
Yikes.

 And with this warm weather the gardens have started springing like mad and very soon, so will the weeds.

I am absolutely confident of it. Almost as faithful as the morning is the faithfulness of crab grass.

 All this to say, last fall I sat on a bench one morning with my coffee, looking at that fence and the encroaching forest I just talked about, my hair still all askew and my pajamas unkempt, and I thought about the word DOMINION. And particularly how I had NOT exerted dominion over myself yet that morning. I was as unkempt as the forest.

 This forest is actually the majority of the land that Al and Ella own. The only thing not wild is the area they dug up, planted, built, painted, weeded, cleaned, repaired, lived in. These areas where they have exerted dominion are now their domain. Their corner of the earth. The hollow they etched out of the forest.

But this word Dominion. It goes back to another garden, doesn’t it?

Genesis 1:28 “God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and over every living creature that moves on the ground.”

To SUBDUE something is to exercise dominion over something.

To show it who is boss.

It became very apparent to me this month while making my first runs of the season that there is absolutely no dominion yet over my lack-of-cardio-for-months lungs. Over my body. It didn’t want to do what I was telling it to do.

But shouldn’t it do what I was telling it to do?
And isn’t it all the same stuff? Houses and gardens and bodies? Aren’t these all things that God has given us, to be responsible for, to manage, to exercise dominion over?

If left to their own devices all of these things would end up dying fast. They would be taken over. In all things being touched by the curse, my lungs are a reminder that I, too, am easily taken over. Dominion rapidly dissipates in this curse-filled world.

We put up fences in gardens, but fences don’t stop weeds. Fences don’t stop the curse.

It reminds me of the passage in Job where God kind of put a fence up.

“Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb, when I made the clouds its garment and wrapped it in thick darkness, when I fixed limits for it and set its doors and bars in place, when I said, “This far you may come and no farther; here is where your proud waves halt’?” (Job 38:8-11)

See, the very nature of God is to be boss. To tell things how far they will go and then no more.

It’s part of the image of God that we display, the part of making boundaries, the part of exerting dominion. We are fulfilling our duty. We are not being overcome by the curse of weeds and decay.

Not being overcome by the curse.

You know, when humanity was cursed in that garden so long ago, the curse didn’t change the image we were made in; it changed how that image is lived out. Now we don’t just plant, we toil. Now we don’t just run, we breathe heavily. Now we don’t just build, we repair. Now we don’t just eat, we delay death. Now we don’t just sleep, we ward off exhaustion.

Do you see the changes that were made?
It didn’t change what we were supposed to do (exert dominion) as much as it changed HOW we do it (through painful toil and the sweat of our brows).  

And I think that is what the devil hates the most. It didn’t change US. We are still MADE IN THE IMAGE OF GOD. That part he couldn’t get his grips on. See, the devil doesn’t want to be reminded that we bear the image of the One more powerful than him. Of the One who has shown him who’s boss.

Oh sure, the devil does a pretty good job of growing weeds and making my muscles tight and leaving my lungs without oxygen and making me feel overwhelmed by my already-redeemed sin---of trying to exert HIS dominion over me. But the mere fact that I am out there, making my body do what I want it to, or refusing to let those weeds choke out the rose bushes, or breaking off all of my spiritual bondages, well, I think he hates that, too. Because I, no longer under the curse of sin, don’t have to play by his rules anymore. He is no longer an encroaching forest in my life. He tries to be, he tries to come up under all of those fences, but he doesn’t want to admit that God has put up a boundary around me and said, “This far you may come, but no further.”

See, when we exert dominion over whatever, whatever God has rightfully given us to exert it over, we are making a proclamation to the world and to the devil that Christ has overcome all of these things. That Christ has dominion over us. That we are no longer under that curse. That weeds have no power to choke us anymore. That heavy breathing cannot make us stop.

Maybe this is all just jumbled, or maybe I am on a spite-the-devil kick lately, but it gives me encouragement when I am running, or repairing, or pulling weeds, or righting something in me that is contrary to God: The curse has already been overcome in me; I am just telling the world one pulled-out-weed or one breathless-step at a time.

The Screwtape Letters---Installment Two.

Ok, he’s back. I wish C.S. Lewis was still alive, and then I wish that I knew him, of course.

I wonder if he was talkative. That’s probably doubtful.  He seems to be too much of a thinker and too much of a writer.

But then again, I write all the time and am quite talkative.

 Whatever.

 Have you peoples been reading The Screwtape Letters? I apologize that this is only my second installment. But, alas…

 The setting scene is that the “patient” has just become a Christian. For those of us who are Christians we can honestly say from experience, “So now, let the harassment REALLY begin.”

What is so fascinating about this book is seeing that the devil’s “big guns” are usually really small things in our daily life. Or what we think of as small things. But has anyone else realized that life is lived in the everyday and the majority of our life IS the small things?

Naturally, then, that is the area to trip up a believer.

 In the opening paragraph the phrase, “All the habits of the patient, both mental and bodily, are still in our favor.”

Have you given thought to that?

What are your habits? Your routines?

 I had a hard time thinking of things I would classify as habits. And then an even harder time deciding whether those were “redeemed” habits or just carryover things from before I was a Christian. Is there room for growth in the areas we don’t even have to think about anymore?

Give thought to it. What are your habits?

I love how Screwtape shows our folly by showing us our thoughts about the other people in our “church.” We can get disappointed or snobbish or critical or whatever about the other people who fill our pews. But what a brilliant statement he makes (and I think this can and SHOULD be asked of ourselves about every kind of our disappointments): “Never let him ask what he expected them to look like. Keep everything hazy in his mind…”

I can easily fall into this, getting all my hopes up about all areas of life, only then to be dashed. But really when I think about it, yes, my hopes were up, but would I have been able to write down that which I expected out of the situation? Or was it all just hypothetical guesses of what feelings I thought the situation would incur? And if I was able to write a list of what I expected, how many of those things were actually realistic?

Maybe this isn’t big for you, but it really has changed my attitude about a lot of things. I find myself now saying, “It was different than expected. Not that I would have been able to tell you what I expected…” I think it is an admittance that disappointment is most commonly a feeling that is based on nothing.

 “Keep everything hazy in his mind,” Screwtape says.

What a good method.

Oh goodness.

Lord, give us clarity of mind to be honest about our expectations, and then the trust in you to let those go.

And speaking of disappointments, I will admit that I am the kind of person who wants to be good at something right away. I don’t have time to waste, I say to myself, in becoming great at this or that, I need to be great NOW.

But that’s not really how life works, is it?

Screwtape says that “The Enemy (Jesus) allows this disappointment to occur on the threshold of every human endeavor.” It’s when the rubber meets the road and we realize that all of our dreams or aspirations will be accomplished with bleary eyes and sweat on our brow.

“BUT WHAT ABOUT THINGS FALLING INTO PLACE!??!?” we scream, never wanting to think that blood, sweat, and tears is how most things fall into place. Good fortune, I have a tendency to believe, should just be handed to me. It should want me to be its owner and therefore search me out.

If only.

I think knowing this makes me feel the same way I did when I realized what being an “adult” was all about. I remember coming home from work in the evenings and saying to myself, “Nobody told me when I was a kid that this is what being an adult meant!” Where was all of that time to do what I loved?! Why in the world am I working to make money if I don’t have any time to do stuff with that money? When do I get to live?! All of those thoughts stormed my brain day in and day out.

Well this is kind of similar: Nobody told me that it would actually take WORK, not just dreams and plans and blueprints. Nothing gets done unless I DO IT.

What a harsh reality.

He says we feel it when we have to take “dreaming aspiration to laborious doing.” We feel it when we decide to learn a language….or when we get married and have to learn to LIVE with the person.

BUT…there is hope. We will get less and less dogged about it if we push through. “If once they get through the initial dryness successfully, they become much less dependent on emotion and therefore much harder to tempt.”
Isn’t that great to know? That on the OTHER side of the doing comes less temptation to the disappointment? Because on that OTHER side, we know what it takes, and we have the pain in our back to prove it.

He closes the chapter by saying that disappointments will be greatly easier to inflict upon the patient if there is rational grounds for disappointments. But this is ONLY the case if, again, all things are still hazy in his mind. Particularly if those hazy things are facts about HIMSELF. The patient (Believers) can be rationally disappointed if, and only if, he has a heightened view of HIMSELF. If we somehow believe that we cannot be the one disappointing, then we will continue to exist in our prideful and continually wounded-by-others state.

I know, I know. Admitting that you could be the one causing disappointment in someone else is entirely too uncomfortable to dwell on. It’s entirely too selfless of us to entertain that thought.

But let’s be honest, where we are disappointed in someone else, there is a good chance they are disappointed in us.

These things are two-way streets.

We're Not All Still Like That {A Journal Entry}

Mark 7:21-23 For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, sensuality, envy, slander, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within and they defile a person.

*I would easily look at this list and think “Oh wow, I haven’t been sexually immoral, I haven’t murdered anyone, I haven’t robbed a bank, so those things must not be in me.” But this verse says that’s not true. All of those things are in me, whether I have shown restraint and not killed anyone or not. The heart in me is what separates me from God.  It’s not as if I sin and am therefore a sinner; I am a sinner, and therefore I sin.

That whole grocery list is what the heart is. My heart is what defiles me.

Hmm. You know, if you really think about it, all of those things are rooted in selfishness.

Evil Thoughts= Thinking harm upon someone for either their detriment or my gain.

Sexual Immorality= Personal Pleasure or the ruination of the other person involved.

Theft= Taking what it not mine.

Murder= Removing someone who gets in my way.

Adultery= Conquering/Winning while harming another.

Coveting= Wanting what is not mine.

Wickedness= A life lived without restraint/never saying “No” to your instincts.

Deceit= The protecting of one’s image/ the means of not bringing harm to one’s self.

Sensuality= Personal Pleasure.

Envy= Dislike of someone’s good fortune or blessing.

Slander= The degrading of someone with your words.

Pride= The overly high opinion of yourself and your abilities.

Foolishness= The confidence in your own wisdom.

*Self*

All of those things are about SELF and the preservation of it.

The heart says, “ME, me, ME and I don’t care who I have to trample for me to be on top, just so long as I am not the one paying the penalty and no harm is done to me.”

I think it was Darwin who coined the phrase “Survival of the Fittest,” and while I don’t agree or believe in his theories, I will give him that. He was right about that. Left to our own devices we will take out whatever hinders us without regard for others, just so long as we benefit. We are born with huge killer instinct. Whether we fall more into Fight or Flight, it’s all about us. It’s about keeping our existence in tact.

Where Darwin was NOT correct, however, and this is why his overall theory doesn’t hold water, was that he didn’t take into consideration that we haven’t been left to our own devices. He did not factor in 2 things:

1.       God

2.        We, as humans, were made in that image and therefore are not animals. We, unlike all other mammals and species or whatever kind, have an eternal soul. And God didn’t leave that eternal soul alone.

Darwin didn’t factor in Christianity in his theory. He factored-in, albeit unknowingly or un-admittedly, the sin nature, but He didn’t factor in Jesus. He didn’t factor in the followers of Jesus: the ones who have died to self; the ones killing their killer instinct.

It all makes me wonder where the Christians were in Darwin’s life. Would his perspective have been different if he had known some without the killer instinct? Without the survival mentality? What if he had been closely associated with those who crucify the flesh SO THAT they will find true life and can then impart that to others?

Or maybe he did know Christians, but maybe the devil had him very insulated so that he could do the work  he did and be completely unaffected by us. Maybe the veil on him was so thick that he couldn’t see. I have no idea. This is all speculation. This is all just thought.

But I wonder how many people and atheists and scientists and whoever I turn away because they don’t see any difference in me? What if I am confirmation to their “survival of the fittest/we are all out for number one” theory rather than a banner that waves “It’s not about me”? What if my life doesn’t cause them to think, “Well she isn’t like all the rest.” What if my life doesn’t cause a catch in their thinking, what if I am not a fly in their ointment, what if I am not the variation to the theory? But I should be. Because that is the truth I claim. I should be.

It reminds me of that scene in the movie Valkyrie with Tom Cruise. When the assassination attempt on Adolf Hitler was foiled and Tom’s character, who played a German general who was opposed to the Nazi’s, was about to be put to death, he was asked by a pro-Nazi general, “Why did you try this? Even if you knew you might fail and you would be executed, why did you try to kill Hitler?” Tom looks this Nazi straight in the eye and says:

Because the world has to know that we’re not all like him.

Isn’t that crazy?

As a Christian, I need to live my life---life without the killer instinct---with the motto:

Because the world has to know we’re not all still killers.

Some Kind of Resolution

Have you ever ran your mouth? Or hurt someone with your words, even when, there is no intention in your ever-living soul to do that? I don’t know where those words come from! I mean, what is down there in my little heart to make me think of letting something nasty just slip right out?

As a policy, I don’t like to do it often. I always end up feeling like a horrible mess of a person, in need of some serious alone time, which is what I do when I feel like a mess of a person. Anyway, those are never moments that I relish. I much prefer to remember the times when I am in some social setting where I have to schmooze people and I never say anything out of line.

J

A while back I had a roommate. Now, I didn’t really know this roommate. It was something temporary where I had said, “Sure. I mean, my hall closet is pretty big, you could throw a mattress in there for the time being,” which is exactly what she did. In the same period of time that I had this roommate I travelled a lot. More than I do now. For the people who know me, thinking that there was a time that I travelled more than I do now is almost unbelievable, but, alas, ‘twas true. And one night, suitcase and totes and junk in hand, I walked into my apartment, threw everything on my bed, emptied the contents of said bags, and started repacking said bags so I could leave again in the morning.

The roommate (the one living in the hall closet) said to me, “How do you afford the gas to travel all the time?”

Now, we were in the first real sleuth of spiking gas prices at this time. It was the first time gas was almost $4.00 a gallon.

And I had not given it a thought.

So when she asked me what I thought about it, I was completely taken aback. I stopped packing, turned to her and honestly said, “Oh….yes….umm….well…. I don’t think about it. I know I need to be on the road, so I know I need the gas, so it doesn’t bother me. I just give them my debit card. I know there is money in there.”

I don’t know if that was the answer she was looking for, but that was the only answer I could think off the top of my head to give. And to be honest, it was the real answer.

See, I had a very steady income at that point. Like I told her, I knew I had money in the debit card account and I knew that more money was going to be pumped into it every two weeks. I had total confidence that there would be no catch; no denial of card, which is why I thoughtlessly kept handing it to all of those cashiers.

 My life is a little different now. My income is more determined by what I do personally, and while I still have money behind my debit card, I do pay a little more attention to what I am spending. Like today I know that I spent $4.19 for coffee, whereas a year ago I never would have been able to remember that. To be able to not think about what you are spending you need to either

A.      Have an endless supply of money or

B.      Know that more money will be coming shortly.

You need to know what is behind the debit card to live like that. Confidently know there will be no lack.

I was running today, thinking about my words, and the story I just told you about the roommate and the debit card came back to my mind. As I was pondering I realized that they really are not that different.

In Psalm 17 David says that he has resolved not to sin with his mouth. I don’t know about you, but I have always felt very hopeless when thinking about putting a stop to my words. All of that talk in James comes rushing back and I just decide there are more important things in my life to worry about since “no man can tame the tongue” anyway. But when David says that he has resolved to not sin with his words, that tells me something. It tells me that David knew what was behind those words. He knew that out of the heart the mouth speaks. And he knew that it would take a resolution to stop the sin from pouring forth speech.

How, you might ask, are the words we say like a debit card?

Well let me ask you this:

Do you know what is behind your words? Are you certain with your words, like I was with the debit card and the gas station, that my card would/ that your words will, produce the desired outcome?

I ask myself: Is the supply of good in my heart endless so that I know that good is all that will come out?

Do I also know that, because of my lifestyle and all of that alone time with Jesus, that more good will be funneled back into my heart once I use up what’s in there now?

I mean, I would love to get to the point where my shock over saying something nasty would be the same as if my debit card was denied. I want to be able to ask myself after I run my mouth, “Excuse me, what? Where did that come from?” the same way I would say to the cashier, “Excuse me, what? But I know there is money in that account.”

The Bible says we should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry. Maybe I can help that process by being a little less thoughtless with my words, a little more “stingy” with them, at least until I am confident I won’t be having any kind of “card denied” situation that will leave me asking myself, “Excuse me, what? But I thought there was all kinds of good in there.”

On Preferring Our Own Realities.

Ok, maybe we are ready for a little “weighty.”

Here is the first of what I have written that I am deciding to share. This may be all I share. This may be just the beginning. We’ll both be learning as we go, capiche?

I love to travel because when you travel you find yourself in someone else’s reality.

I sometimes say that I have been everywhere, and while that is only partially true, it is true enough for me to know that most places I travel to are NOT where I live.

J

Those places are not my reality.

For instance. Here is a picture of me in Italy.

News flash: I don’t live in Italy now and never have.

Here is a picture of me in Switzerland.

This just in: I don’t live in Switzerland and don’t ever plan on it.

Here is a picture of me in Washington, and Colorado, and Chicago.

Here is a fact about me:

I don’t live in Washington, Colorado, or Chicago.

So I have found myself in all of these realities that ARE NOT MINE.

But they are some peoples.

And finding yourself in someone else’s reality makes you evaluate your own.

It’s not that we hate our own yards, but sometimes we do think the grass is greener on the other side of the fence.

Being in someone else’s yard, though, can also show me where I have judged them, only to find out that what I thought were weeds in their yard (i.e. sins that needed to be pulled out) were actually just different kinds of grass (i.e. things that are necessary in their reality [but not mine] and that to them are not issues to be dealt with or weeds to be pulled out).

Ok, that was all very esoteric. Let me try to put it in understandable terms:

We all tend to prefer our own realities and are very quick to judge the way other people live as being wrong or sinful, simply because it is not OUR realities.

Now, before we all start breathing very heavily and you all start yelling at me, let me clarify: If someone else’s reality involves a lifestyle of sin, or living in sin, or blatantly going against the Bible, then YES, they are wrong and those weeds need to be pulled out.

But what if they are not going against the Bible? What if they are surrendered to the Lord? What if they are running from sin, and yet, their life still looks different than ours?

I think, from my own experiences, that because we prefer our lifestyles or realities or whatever you want to call them, we also then become judgmental of other people’s claiming it is somehow wrong, or un-Biblical, even when there is no evidence of that being the case. Even if we can’t find any in-context scripture to back up how we feel.

Let me give a tangible example.

I have never ridden a horse.

I know, I know. I lived next to Amish my entire growing-up life but have never ridden a horse.

I am an American, but have never ridden a horse.

However, I know some people who love horses. They own them, they ride them, they train them, they break them. They are horse people.

And horses, from what I have heard, are expensive animals.

Because there is not a single horse in my reality, I could look at those horse people and call them all kinds of frivolous names.

I could say they are out of their mind. I could say they are wasting money. I could say they are not being good stewards of their time. I could go on and on and on saying why it is not entirely Christian to be a horse person.

And why could I say that? Why could I argue that point?

Because horses are not my reality and I prefer my reality. And sometimes, I believe that my reality is the only way. All people should live the way I live, I could say.

Here is another example. I have a friend who lives in a very glamorous society. And in her closet is a section of evening gowns. She is a wonderful Christian woman who is truly desiring to serve the Lord in that society and does it very successfully.

In my reality, however, there is not a whole lot of use for an evening gown and if I owned one, it would be excessive, unnecessary and absolutely a waste of my money. I would be all kinds of frivolous. However, because her reality is what it is, she has cause to wear those gowns sometimes 15 times a year.

See, for her, having a closet of evening gowns, isn’t excessive.

It’s necessary.

I could get all huffy and claim that somehow that lifestyle goes against God.

But that’s not in the Bible.

So I wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.

Is any of this making sense? Am I conveying the fact that we make judgments about other people’s realities based on our own, even when they are not the same? I mean, we aren’t comparing apples to apples here, we’re comparing oranges to steak.

There is no comparison.

Not all of the same rules apply.

Considering that we all prefer our own reality, aren’t you glad that God judges impartially (I Peter 1:17)? Because what if he preferred his reality? We would all be in deep trouble.

Ok, so here’s another newsflash. God actually DOES prefer his reality. “Be holy because I am holy,” He says (I Peter 1:15-16). Holiness is his reality.

Now, maybe you haven’t realized this, but holiness isn’t possible for us, and I don’t care what reality you claim.

We are not holy people in and of ourselves.

So the issue, then, is that we get all fired up about yelling at the way someone else lives, based solely on preference, NOT on scripture, when the only claim to judgment we have towards fellow believers is how they are walking in that holiness, which is only imparted to us through the blood of Christ. We can only be holy BECAUSE he is Holy and because, for the believer, he is IN US.

That’s it.

It doesn’t come from a lifestyle. It doesn’t come from a preferred reality. It comes from a life covered by Christ.

“Here there is no Greek or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all.” Col. 3:11

Let’s also add “there is no horse people or evening gown wearers” to that list.

God’s chosen people come from all different societies.

And I think that’s the point, too.

Acts 17:26-28 says, “From one man he made every nation of men, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live. God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us. For in him we live and move and have our being.”

God has put us in our societies; he has assigned us our realities, so that we will reach out for him. And we remain in those realities because there are people who live the same way we do who do not know Jesus. And THAT then, becomes the reason we are there. Because in wherever society the lost are, there Jesus wants none to perish (I Tim 2:3-4).

Jesus died for Jews and Greeks and slaves and free and horse people and evening-gown-wearers.

Be Jesus to whichever of those categories you find yourself in.

Re.Cap.Andnothingelse.

Well, the disaster was averted. My computer doesn’t seem to be totally broken, which is great. Especially considering that my lively-hood revolves around the silly machine.

How is that possible? Sometimes I wish my lively-hood revolved around something real, or tangible. Like dirt.

Which leads me to admit that I do sometimes amuse myself by imagining that I own some huge garden or orchard or whatever.

But dirt. How much more real does it get?

Anyway. The computer isn’t that broken! So here I am, now able to write to you all.

And I don’t really know what to say.

Did I just say that?

I feel like I have too much to choose from and it is all very weighty and heavy.

I have spent literally ALL afternoon and evening writing about things that popped into my head on my vacation, and I am not even halfway through the list of things I thought about!

Let’s just say I have got a lot of good material, still stewing around in my brain, ready to explode into the blogosphere if I ever decide to put it there.

Knowing that my topics right now are all weighty, I will instead grace you with a few pretty good snapshots that maybe have a little thought to go with them.

To be real honest, I still feel a little drained. My trip was great, it was jam-packed, and it was different than expected. Not that I would be able to tell you what I expected.

It was the kind of trip that makes you have to come home and write for hours, do you know what I mean? To have to take a step back and ask yourself, “Ok, now what do I do with all of this?”

Maybe it’s just me, but I feel that way a lot (And maybe that’s why I am given to writing). I always feel this urge to KEEP MOVING. To keep progressing in my faith, or my character, or who I am as a person, so it is almost impossible for me to come away from most experiences and not let it affect me. I want it to affect me. I don’t want to stay the same. I don’t want to not think about things and let those thoughts get all the way into the core of me. I want to be different.

And with that, while I am still processing and sifting through all of my thoughts, here some pictures. I am sure they will be brought up to mention again.

We stayed at a friend's at the half-way mark on our way out to the CO. And her shower was like a theatrical performance. How awesome!!

Thank you, York, Nebraska. You supplied our needs on our going and our coming.

Let's just put it this way. The guy who harvested the elk, also wrote the book.
I'm not kidding. He wrote a book on elk hunting.

When I was a kid we drove past this castle once. And in that brief flash I snapped just this exact same picture. Something, as a kid, compelled me to tape this picture into the front of my Bible all those years ago, where it has stayed for all of those years. I don't think most kids do that. Taping pictures of castles in the front of their Bibles...

The Garden of the Gods. It was her first time. My second time. And her countless time.

Everything at the Broadmoor is made by hand. Everything.
At this very same little coffee shop I had a most magical experience when I was a kid. There was this woman sitting outside of it. She had a fabulous black suit on with a very large black hat, talking on her cell (which most people did not have in those days), and I decided right then and there that my ultimate goal in life was to be sophisticated.
My desires may have changed a little since then.
I also thought, at that same coffee shop, that ordering a cappuccino would give me something like the French Vanilla ones I would get at those gas stations with the really schmancy machines.
My, did I have lessons to learn.
Like the fact that there is actually coffee, which is bitter--not sweet, in REAL cappuccino. Which is the only kind they serve at the Broadmoor.

When you own the top of a mountain, you have to carve your back yard out of the forest.
Bears, elk, deer, fox, coyotoes, mountain lions, and cougars they told us are all frequent yard-visitors.
Obviously. Because nothing else naturally lives on top of a mountain.
And yet. I saw no elk.

I don't know what this was all about, but these signs were there at least every 10 miles.
I mean, what do they expect us to find in the median? We're in eastern Colorado! There is nothing anywhere! Why would there be anything we want in the median!?!?

The Way Home

The elk were elusive.

I would stand in my friend's dining room at night, looking out into the blackness, hoping to see the elk that had bedded down for the night in her yard.

But they, apparently, didn't bed down in her yard this week. Because I was staring out her big windows and saw nothing.

Blast.

She had stuffed ones on her walls. But none of the live ones.

And I galavanted all around the mountains. AND NEVER SAW THE ELK.

I saw big-horned sheep, but no elk.

Imagine me, staring out widows into darkness, seeing nothing. Heaving devastated sighs. Every night.

Now, I have seen elk before. I lived by an elk farm when I was a kid. Why in the world was it elk that I wanted to see this week? I don't know. But I was ravenous.
And it seems that I am still starving, because my eyes were never satisfied with seeing their likenesses.

Last night, our last night, I said across the bedroom to Eliza, "Just think, we are in the middle of nowhere mountains, and somewhere in a mile radius from here is a herd of elk. Bedded down. And I am not seeing them. Just think. I am devastated."

Sigh.

Anyway. I am on my way back home. Tomorrow we will finish our trek. I think I need to process. So brace yourself, I think I might have a lot to say.

Also, my computer is on the fritz, so I apologize ahead of time for the delay it will inevitably bring to my posts.

Talk soon, wolfies.

Quick Update!

Hi wolfies! Sorry to be so absent! I am in Colorado this week and what with it being so color-ful and such a long ways away and so bright and not humid and all wild and strange with limited internet…well…it makes me absent.

Anyway. I am here with my mama and my dear friend Eliza and we are traipsing about with this 77 year old woman who used to be a runway model and changed my life in a matter of three days when I was in high school.

Needless to say, it is glorious.

Here are a few good little photos of our trip, thus far.

Have a great week!

A mid-Nebraska pit-stop. What a doll she is. What a doll! Love her!

I don't presume to assume that most of you have a picture of our man Teddy Roosevelt all lit up at night and used as a nightlight. But man, there is one here. Boy, is there one here.

The view from the lovely house we are staying at!

No big. Just holding long-horn-sheep horns. Inside a castle. Whatev.

Our BE-A-U-TIFUL friend looking angelic in the Garden of the Gods.

The whole gang outside of the Broadmoor!

Blueberry Pie

I could eat biscuits every day of my life.

Happily.

Whole-heartedly.

For sure.

100%

I love them. I don’t really get it, though. I mean: flour, baking powder, salt, butter, milk, bake.

Delicious.

Do you know how some people are known for one good food in particular? I don’t think I am at this point, but I WANT to be. Which food it is I want to be known for, I have no idea, but if people would say, “Ah yes…Bethany…you haven’t lived until you have had her (blank).” Well, that would just send me over the moon.

Maybe I just want them to say that about everything, actually. What if they said, “Ah yes…Bethany….you haven’t lived until you have had dinner at her house”? Wouldn’t that be brilliant?

And who are these hypothetical “they”-people? Obviously it would have to be anyone I have had over for dinner.

Which leads me to another point: I want to have a lot of people over for dinner during my life. In the last season of my life I had people over probably….hmmmm….at least 3 times a week. Then I moved to where I am now and, well, I have had the total of one dinner party in two years. And that party was last Friday night.

It was the stuff dreams are made of. For me at least. I have no idea what the eaters thought. It was the culmination of all I believe in. It brought me full circle. It was a great finale.

But for me it wasn’t even about the food. Oh sure, I thought it was good, but even if it hadn’t been great, it would have been the stuff my dreams are made of because I had people I love over to my house for dinner.

And, to me, there is something supernatural about that.

I will never forget the first time I had blueberry pie.  Up until that point I was completely neutral to the fact of blueberries. But as I put that awesomeness in my mouth, all warm with gooey and cold ice cream, I changed camps. I went from Switzerland to North Korea: absolutely fanatical about blueberries and the need for everyone else to know it.

As I sat there, I am sure my eyes were closed, and all I remember saying was, “There will be blueberry pie in heaven.”

To this day I am convinced of it. It’s the best earth has to offer, therefore, it will be the worst heaven has to offer. Now tell me that’s not divine.

I think that day marked a milestone in my life. I had had issue with food throughout the years; eating issues. And I think this Providentially came at a time when I needed to deliciously learn that food was no longer an enemy. I needed to switch camps.

Nice job, God. Point taken.

Maybe you all think I am crazy. Maybe this doesn’t make sense to any of you. Maybe this is all nothing.

But to me---it’s not.

I love to cook. I now love to eat. I love to cook for people who love to eat. I love to have people and love and food in my house because, for a girl like me, the redeemed issue of food holds something eternal for me. Having people over for dinner isn’t just giving people sustenance; it’s letting them in on my redemption.

I told myself long ago that I will write a book sometime before I die entitled: “There will be Blueberry pie in Heaven. Thoughts on the eternity of a life lived around the dinner table.”

So, with all of that, I think I might start a section on this blog called Blueberry Pie, in which I will tell stories of how God, over and over again, has met me, with biscuits in his hands.

I love you all. Thanks for reading.