Hospitality as Habit. {And a bit on Memorial Day}

There is something to be said about a good cup of tea. Or is it cuppa?

I guess that depends on where the “spot” is brewed.

When I was in Ireland it was virtually impossible to not notice their voracious appetites for the beverage. I mean, they drink it like 5 times a day. Why don’t Americans do something similar, apart from our Mt. Dew/Diet Coke addictions?
Anyway, because of this tea-ness they have over there, it opened up a few very eye-opening experiences for me.
The first one was brought on by a rainy afternoon and a change of plans. Rather than going to the Titanic museum (which we did end up going to days later and is amazing! If you are ever in Northern Ireland….GO!), we went to a friend’s house for afternoon tea. Mind you, this friend was a 23 year old single, male friend (who also had an exceptionally clean apartment), so I don’t think we were quite expecting to be asked almost immediately upon arriving two questions:

1.       Would you take some tea if I made it, and

2.       Do you take it with milk?

Yes and yes, we all chimed! Clearly we were the enamored Americans who view every new culture as if it were a shiny new toy. When he brought out an entire tea service on a tray, though, with cookies and crackers to boot, I knew that this most certainly WAS a shiny new toy.

Never in my existence have I ever been brought tea and cookies by any 23 year old man before.
Wow.

The second experience came from a friend’s mother. We had just spent the morning traipsing all over the country side, hanging out with castles, and albeit we had become a little famished.

“Mum, we’ll come for tea, yes?” my friend placed a phone call and asked his mother.
Naturally.
And what a lovely wee visit! There were cakes and cookies and sandwiches and tea and coffee if we wanted. We offered to help and she would only let us carry stuff in to the living room. She shooed us away as if our claim of “Don’t go out of your way for us! Seriously we are fine!” was something of the ridiculous.
I sat back and enjoyed my afternoon, pondering, over a perfectly placed wee spot of tea, what “mum” had done for us.

I couldn’t help but think that maybe our claims of not wanting to be a burden really were something ridiculous for them.

 Here at home I tend to feel almost like a nuisance sometimes. As if I am that girl that always happens to come over around dinner time, you know? I don’t think the people I drop in on tend to feel that I am a burden, by no means do they give me that vibe, but here at home I feel we are trained to never assume: never assume that they wanted company. After all, they might have been busy doing something else.
When I was in Ireland though, in both said instances, and the countless things our B&B host and hostess did for us (from driving us into town at night, to driving us to bus stations, to folding our laundry, to picking us up again in town and at bus stations), it never felt like a burden. But not even that we weren’t a burden, it almost felt as if that was what they expected to do for us. Almost as if it was habit. As if not doing it would have been the closest thing to ridiculous, for we needed those things, and they were in the business of fulfilling needs.

The New Testament talks a little bit about hospitality, pretty much always telling us to “practice” it (Romans 12:13, I Peter 4:9 III John vs8). I have wrongly heard some people say the phrase, “Oh, well she has the spiritual gift of hospitality,” and use it almost as cop-out for them to not be hospitalbe.  I always want to raise my little hand and say, “Ummm…actually….hospitality isn’t a gift. It’s a command. We are all called to be hospitable.” Now sure, some people seem “better” at it than others, but it’s not as if that’s natural! No one was born knowing how to make a cup of tea. Hospitality is a LEARNED trait. And more importantly it is a commanded trait. We are told to PRACTICE HOSPITALITY. Straight up. No excuses.

So what is it about those Irish people and their showings of it that stood out to me the most, for certainly I have been acted upon very hospitably here in the States? It was the fact that it seemed as natural as breathing to them. They had trained themselves to do good. They had made a habit out of the art of sustaining another person.

Sounds a little bit like the character of God doesn’t it? What if he sometimes didn’t feel up to providing for you? Or just had “better things” to do?

Hospitality is not only the tangible way to care about someone else, the most basic way to provide for someone’s needs, but I believe it is one of the most touching ways that Believers can show the love of Christ. A way they can show this truth of being in Christ: God sustains.

A very good friend of mine worked for some people who had cause to have a lot of visitors. While the people she was working for were lovely people, one thing they lacked was a “greeting” to their guests. My friend said she would be going about her work and eventually realize that the guests, who may have just come from very far, “hadn’t even been offered a glass of water!” She said she decided right then and there to be The Water Girl. “I have made it my job to at least ask, ‘Can I get you a glass of water?’”

I was struck by the simplicity of that.
I was also struck by the similarity to when Jesus says “I tell you the truth, anyone who gives you a cup of water in my name because you belong to Christ will certainly not lose his reward.” (Mark 9:41). Maybe we all should be The Water Girl.

 Isn’t showing hospitality simply a way to tell of the character of God? Hospitality says, “All are welcome here.” “Be at rest.” “Let me serve you” (For Jesus came to serve). “Find peace here.” “Let your needs be met here; your wounds healed.”

Many a time in my life have I learned more about the character of God around a dinner table in someone’s home then any sermon ever taught me. As Christians, we are called to be walking sermons. Let your home and your habit of hospitality be a walking sermon, a walking declaration of truth, a walking show of your obedience to God.

We need to train ourselves to have hospitality as a habit. The sustaining of someone else needs to be as natural as breathing, because we know it needs to be done, we know we are capable of doing it, and because we know that every breath we have was given to us by God.

I love this passage in Isaiah. It shows most clearly that if you are in Christ, you are there because God was “hospitable” unto you; he called you into his house.

“Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost. Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare. Give ear and come to me; hear me that your soul may live.”

(Isaiah 55:1-3)

~~~~~

I pray that you all had a memorable Memorial Day. After being in Budapest and seeing the history of how war-torn it has been over the centuries, scars still there from WWII and beyond, I am overcome with thankfulness for soldiers who fight for freedom; true freedom, not some idolized image of a so-called paradise on earth, but real freedom, liberation if you will.  So thank you, if any of you reading this are soldiers or are families of soldiers, today, and this is going to sound cheesy---but I mean it!---I salute you.

And here is a picture of some people who I am sure also felt very thankful for liberating soldiers.

 And others who weren’t reached in time.

Here is a memorial tree behind the Jewish synagogue in Budapest. Made of iron or steel it is quite large and has an inscription on every single one of its leaves.

The inscriptions are names of Hungarian Jews who lost their lives at the hand of brutal men who were attempting to create “utopia.”

This is Adolf Hitler shaking hands with the president of Hungary. Just remember, not all who say they come in peace are talking about the same peace you are.

Ebbs.

The last move I made brought me back to where I grew up. Same county, same city, even the same street. I live right close to my parents. It was a welcomed sigh of relief when I didn’t have to learn anything new. I know all of the haunts, I know all of the roads, I know where to go to get the best groceries. I find myself walking in the same fields and biking the same trails every day.
Most things look the same.

Same sunset...although these windmills weren't here when I was a kid.

But somehow I am noticing it’s not the same.

I have grown with and seen the changes happen in my family over the years, so they don’t seem new or different at all, but other things….other people…..well, there I can tell.

Isn’t it funny how your life ebbs and flows? Almost like the tides. For the longest time you can find yourself in the same job, the same social circle, the same church, the same routine. Then, all of the sudden, almost without recognition, you realize those aren’t your jobs, social groups, churches, routines anymore. All has changed, all has moved, even if YOU haven’t moved. Physically, I mean. I am convinced that Believers in Jesus Christ are constantly being moved and changed spiritually, emotionally, mentally, but what if you haven’t sold your house? What if your geography hasn’t changed? What if you live, like I do now again, on the same street you have for what seems like forever? How is it that your home-base can stay the same while everything else has moved just like the tides? In, and then out. Back, and then forth. Shapes changing, moving keys and players with ease.

I think I am seeing this change the most in my social circle, or the one I had when I lived here. The collective “We” have moved away, or gotten different schedules, or gotten married. We have changed our beliefs, we are going towards different goals, we now lead different lifestyles. Who knew that how others live their life can have such a shaping, or influencing, effect on your own?!

The ebb and flow in this aspect of my life almost makes me feel like I am “the new girl” again. As if I either need to A. Get to know them again, or B. Get to know others.
How strange!   

Seeing things with new eyes probably doesn’t help the situation either. I won’t harp on the fact again (and again) that I am different now than I was years ago, but it is a factor in this whole “The New Girl” equation.

I was telling Wren on our trip to Europe, “You know, we are the sum total of all our experiences. Every day that something happens, or every day that nothing happens, adds something to who we are, or weeds something else out.” This being the case then, it would be silly to think that you can go somewhere and all of the sudden be new, be different than who you are, or be exactly the way you were way-back-when.
Days have happened to all of us. Experiences have been played out. We have been changed.

I can find myself being overwhelmed, or feeling as if I can’t catch my footing. Questioning what it is I am doing or where I am going. Do you ever feel that way? Wondering how “the new normal” is going to look for a while?

Aren’t you glad, then, that God doesn’t change?

That he is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8)?
I love the fact that God is the Alpha and the Omega. He is the Beginning and the End.
And now, more than ever, I am convinced he must be the Middle, too.
Wolfies, I am thankful for that.

Be encouraged. He started you, He will finish you, and today? He is walking with you in the middle.  

Values.

My friend, Wren (who went to Europe with me), asked me for some advice while we were on our trip. She will be going through something pretty soon in her life that I have gone through in the past. She wanted to know how I made it all work.

“Well,” I answered, “People spend time and invest themselves pretty much only on things they value. So this new situation will work---if you value it.”

Seeing different parts of the world shows you that people value different things. Some of it is cultural, some of it is geographical, some of it is economical, whatever the reason there are about 40 million things a person can value on this planet.

I sat looking at these different things and couldn’t help but ask myself what it is that I value.

Do you feel like you know what you value, or is it all some vague inclination you don’t think about much?

Some people run around in life seemingly flitting from one thing to another. I have wondered before whether they care about any of it at all.
Some people claim they value certain things, they just don’t have time to do them. Or they say that something is important to them, but their lifestyle would never reveal that.

When I worked in the wedding industry it is safe to say that I also worked very closely with the alcohol industry. I was always so shocked when I would get those parties that never even asked what their bar-bill was. They had racked up thousands and thousands of dollars that night in an alcohol tab, and without even looking at the bill, or asking me what the final tally was, they would just hand me their credit card. And smile. And say they had a great time.

America was supposed to be in a recession, for goodness sakes!! Weren’t people supposed to be spending less money, watching their pennies? I asked myself this question all the time, dumbfounded.
Then I thought, “Maybe these people are watching their pennies----in other areas of their life. Areas they don’t value as much. They value this; they will spend money on this.” Time and time again that concept was reinforced in my brain, so much so that today I am absolutely convinced of it:

                                PEOPLE SPEND MONEY ON THAT WHICH IS IMPORTANT TO THEM.

People put effort into things they believe in.

If they don’t believe in something, value something, care for something, it gets no attention, no time, no money, no care.

I always come back from a trip and ask if something that happened to me, or if something I saw, will change who I am. Will change what I value. Should some things change what I value? Is somebody else doing life better than I am?

I am still thinking over these things. Processing how lessons learned will transcend cultures and pre-set ways of doing things in my life. But I want you to think about it:

 What is it you value?

What do you say is important to you?
And if you say something is important, does your life actually give evidence of it being true?
I have made a little list and such things like, “My relationship with Jesus,” or “Family, both natural and chosen,” or “Experiences that shape my character” or “Beauty” all come on my list. I can see it evidenced in where I live my life, spend my time, and give my money.

Here is a little challenge for you: take a look at your credit card or bank statement; write out for one week how you spend your time (don’t plan how you are going to spend your time, just keep track of what you actually DID) ; take an inventory of the activities you involve yourself in.

Do you like what you see? Are you happy with the values your life shows?

If not, my only advice is to pray; get in the Word and pray. Only Jesus can change hearts, and he usually only changes willing hearts.

As hard as these lists may be to look at, be honest. Come busyness or recession or vacation or daily life, we spend time on what we value. We spend money on what we value. Typically no more, and typically no less. We must never believe the lie that what we value can somehow be different than to what our lives give evidence.

~~~
In Ireland, my friend Pete told me we were going to be staying at a B&B that was "quaint."
I wonder if Northern Ireland has a different definition of the word than we do here in the States.

Fortwilliam. Not quite what I would call "quaint."

Fortwilliam has curtains next to his front door.

Fortwilliam has gardens and Thoroughbred horse stables behind him.

Fortwilliam makes girls really excited for breakfast.

Fortwilliam makes this butter-loving girl very happy about the Irish butter on her bread.

Initials.

I am home.
Those are some good words.

My trip was delightful.  Saw Budapest for a few days, saw Northern Ireland for a few days. Met some people, had some conversations I will never forget. Conversations that will help make me who I am; who I will be.

God’s timing is different than ours.

My friend, Wren (who came on the trip with me), and myself had a little lesson in being delayed on our way to Europe. We were at our gate, all ready to go, one hour before take-off, when the flight screen starts blinking the word “CANCELLED.”

Cancelled?

Didn’t they mean “delayed”? Or were they actually, like it appeared they were doing, trying to tell me that I had to make all new plans? That I had to get on the phone? That I had to make things right? That they were dropping us?

They were.

So I got on the phone.
After three and a half hours talking with customer service, being told we were going to get on three different flights that same night only to re-check bags and get to the gate and see that it too was also cancelled, or delayed, or delayed too much to miss another connecting flight, we decided that we would take what was being dealt: We were going to have to wait. Stop pushing, stop forcing something that was not to be, and wait.

27 hours.

We finally flew out of the airport 27 hours after we had thought we would have. After I was convinced we should have.

What a humbling experience.

I get prepared for all of these trips I take and do the right things and pack only what I need and have all of my ducks in a row. I have tickets bought on time and agendas lined up for when we get there. I am a responsible adult.

But then something like this happens.
The control gets taken out of my hands.
Or maybe it just shows me that it never was in my hands to begin with.

It is a powerless feeling, which I suppose is God’s plan, too, considering that I DON’T have any power.

I found myself faced with my own selfishness, too. The airport was jammed. I mean, JAMMED. As in NOBODY was flying out that night or even remotely on time. Every line to every counter at every gate had at least 30 people in it. There were no seats in the terminals left to be had. Nobody was getting home that night, or getting to where they wanted to be, or seeing who they needed to go see.

But I wanted to. I wanted to bad. I was pushing for it.

I wanted to budge to the front of every line.
"Don’t you know who I am??!!” I wanted to say to them. “Don’t you know that I have to be in Budapest tomorrow?!” “I need to get MY bag off that airplane and I don’t care if you have to stall this flight!” “Me getting out of here is more important than you getting out of here!” “I have better things to do than you do!”

Isn’t that terrible?

Of course I didn’t say any of those things. I was just appalled that they crossed my mind.

After all, who in the world DO I think I am? And doesn’t EVERYBODY want to go home? Doesn’t everybody, figuratively speaking, have to be in Budapest tomorrow?

Needless to say, having it be so apparent that my potentially-lost-luggage wasn’t any more important than anyone else’s what a needed shock to the system. To be forced to say, “Ok God, I guess you have a better plan. I guess I don’t need to be in Budapest tomorrow.”

And he did.

Because he always does.

Things happened abroad for the people I was meeting and things happened here in the States that I needed to be a part of---AND WOULDN’T HAVE---if I had “gotten myself to Budapest” on time.

Lord, teach my heart to recognize that “delays” to me are actually you preparing something else. An element I don’t see yet, a better story, a stronger faith, a lesson in humility, a grace to be received. Your timing is perfect, and almost always later than expected.

~~~

One thing I wouldn’t have seen if I had gotten out on time, is this guy:

Isn’t that so funny?

Wren and I were in security and a guard comes over to us. “Hey, do you see the back of that guy over there? Doesn’t he look like a Baldwin?”
“Oh you’re right!” we say, “He does look like a Baldwin!”
“No, no, no. He IS a Baldwin.”
We Googled the Baldwins. We think he is Stephan.

Later as we were sitting in our gate we laughed when we saw him just across the way getting on a flight.

I do not usually get excited about celebrity sightings, but for some reason I thought this one was fun. A cute little perk for us after our "arduous" delays.
And this is what we imagined our faces looked like upon seeing him.

Maybe it wasn't that extreme....

Budapest is lovely.

 Opera.House.

The prettiest Jewish synogogue I have ever been in. Also the first Jewish synogogue I have ever been in.

With my aunt who lives in Budapest!

And exceptionally magical at night.

The Castle District.

Parliament.

Anyway, I think I will have a lot to tell you. I am just slightly jet-lagged at this current moment.
So this post will have to suffice.
Goodnight, world. I have seen a much of you. Thank you, Jesus.

The almost way home.

Hello wolfies from Northern Ireland!
I know, I didn't make you guess this time. So sorry for such a delay in posts. I will just put it this way: a woman named Mavis has been making me an Irish breakfast every morning for the last handful of days. There were four brand new puppies in the kitchen and her husband owns race horses.
Awesome.
It's the same old story: I have no way to give you pictures right now but know that they are coming. And they will be awesome because, as my Irish friend Peter would say, "come to Ireland and take pictures of our fields. Picture nOT cool enough? Put a castle in it!"
Anyway it has been a brilliant time.
Talk soon, with pictures, I promise.

Reasons.

Do you want to know the real reason why I haven't told you where I am going/where I am?
Because I don't have my computer here with me on this little tripski, so I can't upload photos.
And what good is a story without photos?

But, alas, in a very picutre-less moment, here is the truth:
Budapest.

I am in Budapest.

Until tomorrow.

And then we are off again.

Budapest is lovely.
Next time you are in Eastern Europe, come here.

There is something very magical about European city centers at night.
Walking around, eating gelato, all kinds of street musicians, buildings and bridges and castles lit up like you wouldn't believe.
When I get home I will show you pictures.
:)
But that's all for now.
Ciao from Budapest!

Landed.

Hi Wolfies, from somewhere you haven't guessed yet!!!

So we had quite a "little" adventure trying to get here.
Let's just say that on Sunday nothing was flying in OR out of Chicago-O'Hare.

I was on the phone for more than three hours with the airline trying to GET US OUT.

But you know what? God has different plans than we do.
And he has better plans.

Through circumstances overseas and things that happened BECAUSE we were a day late in arriving...it was better. His plan was better than our plan.
Again.
Anyway, we are here. The flights finally took off, 27 hours later than expected, but we finally landed; and here is another clue.
Or rather...NOT a clue.
A picture.

This is where we begin.

I have this problem.
I always give myself a huge laundry list of things to do before I go on a trip.
Unnecessary things.

Like sewing a little holder for my boarding passes because I claim I always lose them in my carry-on.
Or like turning a pair of flip-flops into gladiator sandals, because I wanted new shoes, but didn't want to pay for them.
Or like re-landscaping my whole yard.
Or sorting through every article of everything I have ever owned.
I say yes to new clients, and yes to old clients, and yes to friendly get-togethers, all the while still somehow thinking I am going to accomplish said laundry list BEFORE I need to leave for my trip.
Needless to say, the list never gets done, I still have nothing to put boarding passes in, and I frantically run around trying to pack a suitcase, althewhile failing miserably to ask my friend, "Where did we decide to meet before we go to the airport?"
A little delay here, a little failure at accomplishing things there, and it all makes me go weak in the knees and heart and think, "LORD!! How can I screw things up so much and be such a loser?!!!"

I sigh. Feeling more than slightly defeated; a little bit like I don't measure up.

And then Jesus...
Don't you love when that line comes in a story? I think it comes because Jesus doesn't really like his Beloved to feel too defeated for too long.

"And then Jesus said..." "And then Jesus did..." "And then Jesus turned...." "And then Jesus made...."
In my case it was an, "And then Jesus said.....'You can go about and do all of those things or not do all of those things, that's fine, just remember---I have already accomplished everything."

Hmm.
There is something in me that gets great sense of worth out of accomplishing things. Seeing progress, or results, DOING things, moving the story along.
But how often do I actually remind myself, "These things can be good, or necessary, and I have freedom to do them. But they are not what gives me my worth. They are not what determines whether I am a failure or not. Everything that ever needed to be done, Jesus did. He has already accomplished it."
 I guess you could say, "How often do we remind ourselves that the truth of the story is that it is always an, 'And then Jesus....'?"
What a great truth.
He has already accomplished it.
Whatever it is. Whatever form of value or worth I am trying to pull out of all my efforts, he has already bought for me, done for me, made for me.
Value does not come in the doing, but in the One who did.
~~
In other news, my little GO-ing involves airplanes tomorrow.

Here are some more hints. This is a list of NOTS:
San Diego. Tokyo. Berlin. Paris. Lima, Peru. Bangladesh. To climb Everest.
I have no real probabilities of eating horse, octopus, or jellyfish (all of which I have done in the past, but don't foresee doing THIS trip).
I will not be on the continent of Russia.
It doens't involve camels, elephants, or lizzards (hopefully about the lizards---a little disappointing about the elephants).

Ok, that's all the clue for now.

Hope.

My brothers all work in ministry. They are all pastors, of sorts. They can all tell stories of God’s goodness, providence, greatness, and power to save.

But being in ministry can be hard. You see hardships, hear stories, and witness tragedies that you never wanted to see, hear, or witness. All things that should not have been.

For the believer it leaves your heart with this ache. This knowing that the world is not what it was meant to be. We have fallen so far.

In more recent times, they have all had encounters with suicide. The end result of a life its owner thought was worthless.

We can call it selfish, and surely, it probably is. We can call it a tragedy, and we know it is that because it disrupts the right order of things. We can reach out to the members of that person’s family, because they must not have seen it coming either. We can hold candlelight services in faith that the gruesome reality will turn others away from doing the same thing.
But those are all after-effects. Like tremors after an earthquake; the damage is already done, now we just get to feel it again.

Were there things being done BEFORE for that person?

Had they been told they weren’t alone?
I can imagine the only feeling one would have who is contemplating and act like this is hopelessness. The belief that it never will get better. The belief that they have fallen completely to the bottom; completely to the bottom with no way out of the pit.

Church attendance across America is on the downslope. They say it’s a dying industry.

Did you know that?

Something like 70%+ of kids who grew up in church will leave the faith once they go to college.

Did you know that?

There are government supported groups who go into schools and say that the Bible is fallacy.

Did you know that?

There are hopeless people who live in the same town as you. Work in your office. Shop in your grocery stores.

Did you know that?

These are facts I don’t like to think about. I don’t want to believe them. It’s so much easier to keep to my life isn’t it?
You know, my temptation is to fall into pits of overwhelmed-ness. I watch the news and want to cry. I see climbing gas prices and want to cry. I see friends ruining their life even when they know the truth and I want to cry. Or slap them silly. Or both. At the same time.

I see the lost and am overwhelmed with how much I want them to know Jesus.

My heart gets heavy.

I can feel almost hopeless.

But wait a second. If I feel hopeless, how in the world will I ever tell the truly hopeless, i.e. the ones who don’t have Hope yet, that there is HOPE, and HE, because he is the only one who gives hope, He pulled  them out of many deep waters!!!!!????

There must be some disconnect.

People are leaving the church. People are leaving the faith. Our society hates believers. But aren’t we the only ones who actually have HOPE? The believers who have faith who are in church??
What are they not seeing?! What are we not doing?

There is a verse in Psalm 27 that always leaves me a little skeptical. “I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.”

Really? But aren’t those people on the news, or the ones who are leaving church, or the “hopeless” ones “the land of the living”?
Where is the goodness, I ask?

I want to ask where David was looking. I imagine that he didn’t live in societies as far gone as ours. And then I remember that his societies were just like mine. We both have temples of pagan worship, whether I call it that or not. Both followed their own desires. Both had corrupt governments. Both had wars.

Yeah, David knew BAD. That whole Psalm, to my surprise, finds David in times I would say are like mine: Tumultuous.

He starts by saying who God is---that God’s character is why he doesn’t fear.

He says that even though he is attacked and besieged he will not fear; he will be confident.
What he asks for is not deliverance. He asks that he may “Dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of his life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and seek him in his temple.”
David says that trouble will come, but in God’s dwelling David will find shelter.

 “Your face, O Lord, will I seek.”

“Though my father and mother forsake me, the LORD will receive me.”

 “Teach me your way, O LORD; lead me in a straight path.”

“I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.”

And I wonder: Am I showing the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living, or am I part of the problem?

Will my “taking heart” show his goodness? Is that the key?

Not fearing because I know him.
Seeking his face.
Walking in straight paths.
Being the goodness of the Lord.

What if my goal, our goal, was to everyday prove this verse true to someone? Being goodness with skin on. And that goodness shows that I do not fear because I see his face. I walk in straight paths and dwell in his shelter.

I gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and therefore I can do good in the land of the living.
Show hope to the hopeless, because there, but for the grace of God, go I.

What if we got really bold and prayed that God would bring the hopeless ones across our paths?

Are we willing to do it? Are we willing to get messy?
After all, didn’t he get messy for us?

I assume that most of you reading this have been dragged out of a pit by Jesus. We can say with David, “He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of many deep waters,” (Psalm 18:16), or with Paul and say “…I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus TOOK HOLD OF ME.”

Grabbed out of many deep waters.
Or from lives without faith. Lives without hope.
Lives of walking away from the truth even when we KNEW it.
Or from feeling like we were absolutely, hopelessly---alone.
Or from the bottom of pits we thought there was no way out of.

It’s his goodness, wolfies. His goodness. There is no hope outside of it. Not for you, or for me, or that person in your office, or that person in your grocery store, or that other soccer mom, or that person who is leaving your church, or that person at the bottom. There is no hope outside of it.

“Blessed are they whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered.” (Romans 4:7)

Give THAT Hope to the hopeless.

Be the goodness.
Tell them their sins have been forgiven.

Settle-ing.

There has been a theme throughout my days for the last few months of my life. I have never felt it before. Maybe I was too busy before to feel it. It caught me a little off guard, made me put up some defenses for a while, simply because it did not fit into my picture of how I thought things would continue to go.

I think I have been wanting to settle.

Yikes.

I know, I know, I was shocked too.

Not necessarily with anyone and most assuredly not with anyone specifically, mind you.

But just not be on the go so much. Stay in one place longer.

Maybe buy a sofa.

Yeah, I haven’t ever done that before.

Why, you might ask? Because I have never had need for one, I thought. If I ever needed to sit down, I had a bed, or a kitchen table, or definitely more oftentimes used, the front seat of my car.
Yeah, my brain DOES think like that, I assure you.
Did I ever tell you that in the last two years there was this 10 month period where I didn’t sleep more than 5 consecutive nights in the same bed?
Most of this was by my choosing, and to be honest, I absolutely loved it. I think I pride myself on it. But that lifestyle has a tendency to wear a person down. And like someone who feels they need to “catch up on their sleep,” I feel like I need to “catch up on my staying.”

This concept of settling, then, is really foreign, because clearly it has not been something I do too well. Or have ever attempted to do. I have never put roots down. I have moved numerous times, made amazing friendships, but roots? No. I have thought of myself as one of those plants that grow on top of the water, just kind of floating there.
I guess I am no longer relishing that fact. Being a nomad has lost its luster.

I don’t know why I am surprised I was a “nomad” for a while.

Years and years ago I started thinking about Bedouins. The only thing I can think to blame this fact on is Sting’s song Desert Rose which makes me feel like I am in Morocco. And I love feeling like I am in Morocco. I imagine Bedouins live in Morocco (I don’t actually think they do, though). I think I have idealized it in my head.
Anyway. In my idealized thinking I was looking through pictures and pictures and pictures of Bedouin tents.
Like these:

Please notice the camels. You can't be a true Bedouin without camels.

It brings on a sense of abandonment in me. As in, if God calls, being willing to abandon all earthly possessions and just GO. Immediately. Throw everything I need to survive in one tote bag and GO (which is why I design tote bags for a living).
In these feelings of abandonment I prayed one day, “Lord, I would live in a tent with you.” It was my way of putting him above all other things.

Years past and I found myself in the said condition of nomadicism (I just made up that word). One day, sitting on my bed (and not my non-existent couch), I was doing my devotions, seeing all kinds of things I could easily abandon and the thought crossed my mind, “This is that tent we talked about, isn’t it?”

I guess God makes you be true to the vows you make.

I smiled. Thanking him for the GO-ing time, knowing that he was the one who ordained it, and I have learned that anything ordained by him is the BETTER thing. So that was the life I lived.

Well now, in his ordained-ness, the nomadicism (there is that word again)seems to be coming to an end, at least in the encompassing sense.

And the settling-in feelings have begun.

I will talk later on the “Building a Life” concept I have also been rolling around in my head, but for today I will enjoy the benefits of settled-ness: Like my own bed, and knowing how to make coffee in my coffee pot, and doing laundry without having to ask someone.

And tomorrow?

I will pack a suitcase again. Why? Because this weekend I will be off on another big GO-ing. I don’t think I am going to tell you where I am going, but rather give you clues.

Clue #1: A very well-used spice has its origins in this country.

Happy Guessing, wolfies. Go where he tells you.