Invisibility.

My father and I are bikers.
Not Harley-Davidson bikers, no. Although I will admit that the idea of riding around, free as a bird, wearing leather and sweet bandanas is quite appealing, but alas, that reality has not come to pass. No. We are bicycle bikers. Like the kind with pedals.
Anyway, the cold is approaching real quick-like around here (which is fine by me, as you know, seeing that I love winter) so we have been taking every last opportunity to bike before the impending snow flies and before it both literally and figuratively stops us in our tracks.
Yesterday we were out toodling along through a great lovely forest when seemingly OUT OF NOWHERE this deer, antlers and all, comes charging out of the ditch, fleeing from us while carrying his fear that we were hunters and not harmless bikers.

Consequently, for the remainder of our ride we had our eyes peeled, waiting expectantly for another to come charging out. We would see them out in open fields here and there, but saw no more in the woods.

The thought occurred to me when I was almost home that even though we didn’t see any more in the woods doesn’t mean we didn’t see any more.
Yeah, I know I just said that twice.
And I meant to.
It wasn’t just me getting ahead of myself (or behind myself, whatever).
Another way of saying what I just said would be to say, “Even though we didn’t see any more in the woods doesn’t mean that there weren’t any there…it doesn’t mean that my eyes didn’t roam over them, it just means that I didn’t notice them.”

Why do you think we saw that first deer? Was it because he was there?

Or was it because he moved?
It was because he moved.
If he hadn’t moved then I wouldn’t have seen him either, like all of those other deer I probably saw but didn’t.
See, I don’t know when the last time was that you took a walk in the woods and I don’t know when the last time was when you saw a deer, but I see both quite frequently and one thing I know is that a deer’s fur is the exact same colors as the trunks of trees.
Like, the exact same color.

Have you ever seen those Bev Doolittle paintings?
Deer are like those.

Image thanks to Google.

Do you see the man and the eagles?

Yeah, that’s right.
Look it up.

So that’s what deer are like in the forest: there, but you can’t see them.
And as I was still peddling along, keeping my eyes on that forest, the thought crossed my mind, “Well this is like looking for the invisible.”
It reminds me of somebody else who was invisible, not because he wasn’t there, but because he didn’t show himself---and because nobody was looking for him.

Watch this clip from Sherlock Holmes. And I apologize in advance if the ad before it is raunchy. Sometimes they can be just totally…unforgivable.

But watch it all the way through….keep your eyes peeled all the way through.

Watch Here

Isn’t that hysterical?! I love it!!!

RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR EYES. And absolutely seeing nothing. Like me and all those deer.

You of course know where I am going with this.

Colossians 1:15 says “He {Christ} is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.”

You know, a lot of non-Christians have a real issue that we Believers put all of our trust in something “invisible” or something “no one has ever seen.” And besides the fact that we don’t, for Christ came and therefore we see him(—we believe in One seen), and Romans 1 says that all nature proclaims the existence of God—so therefore they have seen him too (but they exchanged that knowledge…) and are therefore without excuse in not believing in him, etc. etc, they still think we are the “silly” ones.

We know this is not the case for another reason too. We believe that the Bible is true because it is (and has never been proven wrong, but I won’t get into that here), and this totally true Bible says that “The fool says in his heart there is no God,” so therefore we are not the ones to be pitied or thought less of intellectually, but onward they go sometimes, spewing their beliefs “like unreasoning animals” (Jude 10).
A favorite quote between a friend of mine and I that I sometimes want to say to those people is, “No, I am not saying that you are silly. But I am saying that someone in this conversation is silly….and it isn’t me.”
Ha.

Anywho. All that to say is people who don’t know the Lord think it is ridiculous for us to claim we know him because they don’t think he is there.
But really….I just think it’s ridiculous that they don’t see him.

Spiritual sight is a gift of the Holy Spirit, I understand that…but I want you to understand that, too. I don’t want any of you to ever feel wrong or strange or silly or dumb or like a loser because you DO see him.

And why do we see him, might I ask?
The same reason why we saw Sherlock Holmes and why I saw that deer the other night: Because He moved…and because at that point we were looking for him, whether we knew it or not.
I also don’t want you to feel like you are alone in your devotion to the Lord and in your “God-sightings” of him, as my mother would call them (We have “God-sightings” because those of us who are looking for him tend to see him moving a LOT---because he does move a lot). There are others of us who are seeing him, too.

Hebrews 11:27 says that Moses “…persevered because he saw him who is invisible.”

Isn’t that incredible!??! Moses kept going…to all of those meetings in front of Pharaoh…to the people of Israel to tell them they were going to leave Egypt…to the Red Sea while being chased…to parting the Red Sea…to crossing the Red Sea…to going into a new land…to wandering in the desert.

He kept going. He persevered in his faith.

Why?
Because he saw him who is invisible.

Doesn’t that give you a new zest to keep going?! To keep persevering, to keep telling the world the truth, to keep standing for what is right, to keep saying, “Sorry skeptics and critics, but you’re wrong about this one”…because if you have seen Christ, you have seen him who is invisible.

What a gift! Let us not take for granted the fact that God has chosen to reveal himself to us. Let us also not stop praying that all of our exclamations about the greatness of this God we see and all of our pointings of “Oh, did you see him do this?!?!?” really does show one of those critics, or one of those skeptics, or one of those current non-seers the truth that we see Something they don’t see, not because we are the silly dreamers, but because we believe in things we HAVE seen move. We believe even more so because the one we saw move is The Invisible One.

The Crimson Tide.

All of the sudden I didn’t know whether it was tears or sweat streaming down my face.

Plagued throughout my years by trials and “insecurities” and issues of various kinds, I knew why it would be tears if in fact it was that.

I was on my Elliptical machine, the night was one like many. Cruising along, listening to my worship music blaring in my headphones, I was struck, once again, by a song I have heard a hundred times. Sang a hundred times, not exaggerating.

“He to rescue me from danger, interposed his precious blood….oh to grace, how great a debtor.”

 

When I was in the desert I went to an Arizona Cardinals game.

I love football. I am one of those girls.

This is our stressed-out face during the game.

 

But one sight in particular got my little mind thinking.

Not kidding you, my first thought was, “Well I have heard that before.”

Sure, sure. You all are thinking Egypt. And so was I.
Can you imagine if you had been there? Stranded in exile for centuries in a foreign land. Oppressed by hostile Pharaohs. Working tiredly forever in the sun. Your soul would be crying out. Dry bones would definitely be crying out. Maybe some of you, if you are like me, feel like you know what it does indeed feel like.

For the Israelites, just when you think all hope is lost, in comes a plague. Only this time it doesn’t hit you. You have braced for the fall, but one does not come. The grasshoppers don’t get you. The angel of death doesn’t get you. In a fluster then you leave home, nervous, ready to be gotten by guards or men with swords or wild beasts or something, but you don’t.

You travel on and before long, behind you and your fleeing companions you can hear the Egyptian army coming…what you feel you knew all along was coming. For you honestly didn’t think you were going to get away. Chariots and horses, shouts of battle, no doubt, with a blockade in front of you, that’s what was coming. This time, though, the blockade is not cement blocks or bricks made without straw. Not sun-baked walls, un-climbable, but water. Blockaded by water “Red” and unswimmable. A hopeless sea.
I think I can hear the sigh. My heart knows the tension. When rocks and hard places are your only boundaries, and no escape window seems visible.

I sigh. And I anticipate the story to end there, like a bad movie that you knew the whole time where it was going.

Only this wasn’t a bad movie. This story had a twist. Like you hope all stories will.
Moses. A man sent to set captives free.
Where would the story be without the savior, I must ask myself? The one who comes between us and our devastation. What if there was no Moses who believed and no Moses who saw the Invisible One (Hebrews 11:24-29) and no Moses who had faith to take the Lord’s charge, raise his hand up to the roadblock and say with confidence:

                                                                                “Rise up, Red Sea.”

 Where would you be without a Red Sea? What if the rocks and hard places never knew your name? I think about my own story and I wonder now, would I have any thankfulness for the rescue if there had been no oppression?

Might I suggest that even if you feel you haven’t had the enemy in chariots breathing down your neck and if you feel like you have never had the waters parted for you, if you know Christ Jesus as Savior, you have been given another Red Sea experience.

Like that song lyric I mentioned, “He to rescue me from danger, interposed his precious blood.”

And as the words, so old, were pounding into my head that night, all I could think of on that Elliptical machine was, “What a red sea it was. Hot blood pouring out of innocent veins.”

Why am I surprised to find that the greatest rescues all bleed the same? They parallel each other and mine is counted among them. Oppression and rocks and hard places and enemies and no-way-out and Saviors who blindside you.
Saviors who turn their back on your enemy, look forward to the goal and to their beloved ones held captive for so long, and say, whether to bodies of water or to blood in their veins, “Rise up, red sea.”

And the red seas rise up, and they part.

And the captives walk through it because to them freedom only comes on the other side.

Can you believe that Jesus inflicted that on himself? For you?

For me?
Some of you might scoff and say, “Ah! But the Romans killed Jesus!” or “But the Jews killed Jesus!”
Who gave the word and who pounded in the nails is of little importance, because the truth is, I killed Jesus. You killed Jesus. Our sins killed Jesus. Our wages of death he bore.

And also…Jesus killed Jesus. Not in some selfish suicidal way, but in a greatest-act-of-sacrifice way.

It says in John (19:30) that “When he had received the drink, Jesus said ‘It is finished.’ With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.”
Now, I don’t know if you realize this or not, but you cannot give up your spirit. You don’t have that kind of power. I don’t have that kind of power. We cannot speak ourselves to death.
But the one who spoke all life into being could.

The realist in me wants to yell, “Who in their right mind would subject themselves to brutal torture and then, after suffering shame and scorn and beatings, give up their own spirit?!?!”

This one who now knows freedom answers, “Could it be anyone less than He who says, ‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts’ (Isaiah 55:8)?” For surely a mind that thinks differently than ours is the only one who can bear the cross for the sake of love. A love of which is stronger than any of us can endure, for is it anything other than his love that kills our body of sin?
I think not.

I don’t know whether I was out of breath that night or hyperventilating.

I would understand the hyperventilating if it was indeed that.
When the reality of Jesus hits you it absolutely has to take your breath away.

I don’t know what I am trying to get across to all of you tonight. I just wanted to tell you how my brain (and body, what with the crying and hyperventilating) was wrecked the other night.

The power and love of a God who told the red sea in his veins to “Rise up,” well…it just takes my breath away and it makes me cry because he loves me so much and I love him so little and I just beg the Lord that all of you would know what in the world I am talking about and I know this is a run-on sentence and I absolutely don’t care how many grammar rules I am breaking right now or ever because this is so important to me and, boy, do I want this to be so important to you.

*Sigh*

You know, in Hebrews it says that Moses regarded disgrace for the sake of Christ of greater value than all the treasures of Egypt because he was looking forward to his reward—i.e CHRIST! Can’t we as Christians just grasp this a little more, I wonder?! The truth that Christ is better than…well..everything?!?

Because he is, Wolfies, he absolutely is! He is not a God who saves you and then leaves you empty-handed or heart-less-filled or what we all fear the most—alone.

I mean kids, this is real! This Jesus thing isn’t just some Sunday morning play time. This isn’t just something that you compartmentalize and have a life or a job or a pastime or a voting record or a credit card bill separated from.
Paul said that “To live is Christ.”

Period.

I just want to look you all in the eyes and say, “Period.”

That’s all.
That’s all you need to know about life and how to live and how to love.
Period, because he made his blood rise up to save you, how can we, therefore, not consider everything else, like Moses, of lesser value? Because it is of lesser value. It’s just not worth sacrificing your life to. Not when you compare it to the One who sacrificed HIS life for yours.

Texts.

I will be the first to admit that when it comes to being on the road I let my daily devotions slip.

I hate that about me. Why do I think I can run on fumes? Why do I have this false over-confidence in myself that states that I can still be a decent human being without daily contact with Jesus? Because I can’t. I am dead wrong if I think I can.

When my friend and I were on our way home I said to her, “You know, I apologize if I have been a tad bit owl-y these last few days. I haven’t had any time with Jesus and that does not do good things for me.”

“Oh, I know,” she replied, “I have had a hard time with that the last few days too. But don’t worry about it; I haven’t noticed you being nasty.”
Not to be trusting of her words, I then coyly replied, “Well that’s great, but maybe when you don’t have devotions you become a habitual liar. So really, I could be terrible…and you could just be lying….because neither of us have talked to HIM today.”

We laughed, of course.

But seriously. Maybe she does become a habitual liar.
Ha.
(She absolutely does not. She doesn’t have a nasty bone in her body.)

Later on in the trip I stopped for coffee with another friend and was relaying this story to her and continued. “Last night I lay in bed and was praying,” I told her, “And I said to the Lord, ‘I feel like I have so much to tell you! As if we haven’t talked in ages!’ Which of course is ridiculous. But that’s how I feel. I feel as if all God and I have done for the last three weeks is text each other. Except I haven’t received any of his. And let me tell you, that is no way to carry on a relationship.”

It was the honest truth. If God didn’t know everything that happened to me all the time and if he didn’t know all of my thoughts we would have a lot to catch up on.

Fortunately he does. Which makes for a quick cut-to-the-chase. Consequently I don’t have to tell him all that happened I can just say, “NOW WHAT DO I DO WITH ALL THAT JUST HAPPENED?!?!!?”
Ha.
Isn’t it terrible how nonchalantly I can relate to God? As in I have the ability to talk AT him for three weeks and not give him more than an hour total to talk to me. And what I say to him for those three weeks is about as deep as you typically get in a text message.

“Hi. Thanks for today. It’s beautiful. Ok, actually it’s really hot. But thanks anyway for the desert. Ttyl (Smiley Face) Lol.”

Text message-depth conversation is no way to carry on a relationship. With anyone. Especially the Creator and Sustainer of all life and movement. I get huffy when I don’t talk to my family or best friends every day, so why don’t I go OUT OF MY WAY to talk to him?

It reminds me of one of my favorite passages in scripture.

Psalm 18:6, 9a. “In my distress I called to the LORD; I cried to my God for help. From his temple he heard my voice; my cry came before him, into his ears…He parted the heavens and came down.”

See, when I call God, he moves heaven to get to me. So when he calls me (which he calls all of us every single day, kids), why don’t I at least part my schedule? Or my morning makeup routine? I can find time to shower and eat lunch, but I can’t find time to talk to the one who parts the sky whenever I call HIM?

I get the feeling he must feel like he is in a one-sided relationship.

And I suppose he is. I bring nothing to the table in our relationship. Well, nothing desirable, that is. I do bring a lot of garbage and baggage. Isn’t it miraculous then that he loves us? I mean, he saved us once on that cross so why does he do any other goodness unto us? He has already done enough. Wolfies, that cross was enough. And yet (there is always an “And yet” with Jesus), he continues on still! He still hears when we call. He still moves heaven.

And more impressively, he still wants me to call. Me, the one who can offer nothing desirable to the relationship, he still wants. Why?

Mind boggling.

Oh man.

Forgive me, dear God. Let me not treat you glibly; forgive me for not moving all in my small power or tiny schedule to get to you. And yet, as selfish as even this is, thank you. For constantly still coming down. Let this grace to me not be without effect.

One week. One day.

8 days.
7 states.
4 different planes.
25 hours in the car.
8 major United States cities.
4,382 miles.
Seeing two of my best friends and their families.
Worth it?
A hearty “yes.”

Cities at night are...magical.

I already told you that the desert is...bewitching.

Bests.

My thoughts exactly, Chik-fil-a.

Call us Mrs. Davey Crocketts. We don't mind.

They be pretty patriotic.

It is so hot in Texas.

Pretty sure when I saw this I said, "Come to mama."

 

I know, I know. Maybe I am excessive.  But I promise this is the last of my travels for at least 2 weeks.
And maybe a lot of you think THAT is excessive, too. For surely I could be doing a lot of better things with my time; more productive things. You’re right. I look excessive.

Am I, though?

Do you ever, like me, wonder what really is too much? How much travelling to be with people I love is too much? How much money spent helping others is too much? How much sacrificing of my time for ministry and adventures and God-revealing-experiences is too much?

I don’t know. Maybe it is excessive. Maybe I will regret the list that opened this post someday. And maybe I won’t.
Which is probably more likely.
The truth is, I probably won’t.
Will you be shocked if I tell you that I want people to think of me, when it comes to generosity and joy and sacrifice and love and acts of service, as excessive? I want to be more excessive in those things than even I sometimes know what to do with.

On this trip I kept thinking about Psalm 84. It says in verse 5, 10-12, “Blessed are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion…For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness. For the LORD God is a sun and a shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly. O LORD of hosts, blessed is the one who trusts in you.”

This passage caught me off guard for a long time. Being one who has dreams and goals for achieving a lot with my life, I never really understood how being a doorman somewhere could be a really great thing. I mean, isn’t that one of those people in fancy New York City apartment buildings who opens doors and say, “Good morning, Mr. Banks. How are you and Mrs. Banks doing? Have a wonderful day, sir. See you this evening”?

That’s not what I feel called to do with my life.
And yet, this verse calls me to that.
I never got it.
And what is all of this about ONE DAY being better in the yard of God than THOUSANDS of days elsewhere?
Surely I could accomplish a lot more for the Kingdom of God in THOUSANDS of days elsewhere.
Trading in thousands of productive days for ONE DAY in God’s house seems a little…well…excessive.

I used to play down this verse. Don’t get me wrong, I love Jesus more than I love any of you. Hands down. He is more real to me than any of you are. But ONE DAY?  I question myself about whether he is more real to me than thousands if days…

Have any of you seen the Pirates of the Caribbean movies?

I have wanted to be a pirate for….ever….so naturally I love them. There is this one scene in, I think, the third one where a pirate named Will is trying to make a deal with his pirate father, Bootstrap Bill. The deal is that Will can either choose to die, or be bound to his ship forever, except for one day off the ship every ten years.
Now mind you, there is a catch. Will has a smokin’ hot wife named Elizabeth.

Ah, women, the proverbial fly-in-the-ointment!

WHAT IS A MAN TO DO?!??!?
Ten years on the miserable ship, in trade for ONE DAY!??!?

Bootstrap Bill echoes just my thoughts in discussing this with Will: “That’s a mighty high price to pay for one day, Will.” Will, however, is not to be put off. He is in love, remember. And what he responds back with sticks right in my gut.
He looks his father in the eye, smiles as he is clearly thinking about his wife, and says, “Well that depends on the one day.”

Suddenly, I get it.
I understand that passage in Psalms:

Love is excessive.

A relationship with Jesus, who is Love, is excessive. It makes people look down their nose at you and think you are wasting your time. Think you could be doing something more productive.
Their disdain really is them saying, “Giving up thousands of days for just one day of being HIS doorman is a mighty high price to pay, don’t you think?”
And Christians, the ones captured and all caught up in love, shouldn’t we be like Will, remembering the One we love, and look at them with a smile in our eyes and reply, “Well that depends on the one day…”?

I think so.

See love, of God and people, and generosity and joy and sacrifice and acts of service, etc etc whatever, is excessive.

And it should be.

If we aren’t having people of the world call us out and say, “Don’t you think you are paying a little too high of price for Him? How lowly to be his doorman!” then I wonder if we are in love enough. I wonder if we excessive about him ENOUGH.

So maybe you have been reading about my life on this little blog here for a while. And maybe you all think I am crazy.

I hope so.
I hope you think I am excessive.
I hope I spend way too much of my life and time and money on things that reflect HIM and his excessive nature. I hope to spend too much of me on the people I love. I hope I look to the world like one of those people who has their priorities screwed up, because, let’s be honest, I want them to know that my priorities are not theirs.

This passage says “Blessed are those… whose heart are the highways to Zion.”
I know about highways, trust me, and I want the world to know that my heart isn’t travelling after the same things theirs is. My heart is on its way home, excessively.

Call me names, I don’t care. Call me a silly doorman, good. Call me excessive, please.

For those who have been captured by Christ’s excessive love, let us say to the world’s claims that how we spend our lives for him is foolish and really TOO excessive a price to pay, “Well that depends on the one day.”

Top Ten

I told you the desert had bewitched me.
Here are my top ten reasons why.
Note: I will let you interpret my said ten reasons based on these pictures and their one word captions.

1.

Sprinkles.

2.

Tower.

3.

Vegetation.

4.

Coldblooded.

5.

Onlyhere.

6.

Football.

7.

Dryheat.

8.

Stairstepper.

9.

Glare.

10.

Egypt.

That's red dirt.

Hello there, Wolfies, from the American Southwest! I have never been here before and it is...bewitching.
All of this red dirt and no grass and cliffs and cacti and....threat of scorpions, well, it makes a girl say, "I don't think I am in Kansas anymore" (even though I don't live in Kansas).
Wow. What a beaut.
Or is it butte?

Anyway. It will come as no surprise to you that I don't have my computer with me (because I don't really like going through airport security carrying a computer) so therefore you are getting, yet again, another post with no pictures.

I had an incident on the airplane on my way here that has been weighing heavy on my heart. I will get into that later when I get home, but I just want you all to know that satisfaction will not be found in sin. I know, isn't that one of the key Christian beliefs?
But I think it gets so tainted because our non-Christian, pagan culture we live in really does taint US. I am not one of those never-have-any-contact-with-the-outside-world Christians. I believe that is a false doctrine, but I am becoming more and more of a BUT-NOT-OF-IT Christian when it comes to the world. The race of the believer is strenuous enough that we don't need to continue loving our sin which "so easily entangles."
Throw if off, kids. Throw it off. It's not worth it.
Praying for you all as you read this.
As Paul says in Philippians 3, I want us to consider everything as a loss in comparison to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ. And this verse gets overlooked sometimes, but seriously, "Let God be true, and every man a liar" (Romans 3:4).
Walk in that grace today. God is true. And he is greater.

First few days.

For the first few days of this week I am helping some family members re-do a rental property they own.
I love doing design projects, love getting my hands dirty, but let's just put it this way:
I have no idea how some people live in such dirt.
As in, there is this carpet in the house that was white at one time. It's black now.
I know I am one given to dramatics, but I am not being dramatic. It's black now.
Did I mention it was white once? It's black now.

Needless to say, we will be replacing the carpet because it's beyond shampooing.
This is not a time to clean, this requires new.
Isn't it great that mercy is like that, too? We get new "carpet" every morning. No matter how much we screwed up the day before or let someone down or tracked in the dirt, whatever, mercy is new. The now-black carpet is taken away.

Good. That's good news. Talk soon.

Don't look right. Don't look left.

When I was out west this summer I went hiking with a dear friend one day.

 

Now, mind you, where I live in the middle of this great nation we don’t have too many mountain ranges, so hiking at home is slightly different than hiking out west.
For example, this is what it looks like when I go “hiking” at home, which I will be the first to admit more closely resembles power strolling.

And this is what it looks like when you go hiking out west:

I know my friend had to have thought I was such a baby (and rightfully so). When we got to the top of our hike she said, “Do you want to go down by the bottom of that little waterfall?” to which I replied, “You know, I don’t think so. I don’t know if my leg muscles will stop spasm-ing enough for me to get back up.” She knew I was an imposter, but luckily she was very gracious.

Now, since where I am from hiking is more like an afternoon jaunt, I was unaware that trails out there look like this:

 

Oh wait, can’t you see it?
It’s that pile of rocks right there.
Yeah, that one. In the middle.

Now do you see what I mean?! And not only that, but look at what was to the RIGHT of me:

 
Let’s just put it this way. One little step in the wrong direction is a long little fall straight down. And you all know how much falling is not my thing.

Needless to say, I saw a lot of this for the rest of the hike.

And as I was moving along, very carefully, very systematically, all I could think about was that passage in Proverbs where it says, “Make level paths for your feet and take only ways that are firm. Do not swerve to the right or the left; keep your foot from evil.” (Proverbs 4:26-27)

All of the sudden this verse made perfect sense. What would have happened if I had swerved to the right or to the left? Bad things.

And how would I have started swerving in the first place?

At one point I was taking in all of the beauty around me, not looking down at my feet, and I did trip a little. And I knew then that swerving to the right or to the left comes from….get this…. looking to the right or to the left.

My friend will tell you that I kept jokingly saying the whole hike, “Don’t look right. Don’t look left.”

But isn’t this the same way with life? The minute we take our eyes off our steps, or take our eyes off our goal (Jesus), the minute we lose our focus, life tends to become a little shaky.

Have your eyes started looking to the right or to the left? Do you feel like you are tottering on a cliff right now?

If your life was a hike up a steep mountain slope, and your livelihood and safety depended on each of your steps being solid and sure, are there distractions that are making you have shifty eyes that just need to go bye-bye? Let’s be honest, kids.

If we were to take a catalog look at our life and compare it to Philippians 4:8 “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things” would we be doing ok? Good? Fair? Excellent?

Are some things in your life, ones that could not find itself on the honorable list, being a distraction to you? Making you shaky?

I help a lot of people with house projects and I see some of them holding on so tightly to things in their possession. Getting rid of stuff is hard for them. But some of the times I don’t even think that they like whatever they can’t part with! For whatever reason, they must feel like they need to be loyal to the object, or something like that. Maybe it was given to them by someone, maybe it was inherited, maybe they picked it up along the way somewhere, whatever. And I try to tell them, “Listen, I don’t care if Julia Child herself gave this to you. If it’s ugly and you hate it, get rid of it. Kick it out the door.”

It’s the same in our lives not just our houses, Wolfies. How many things in our life, things that make us look to the right or to the left, distractions, bad habits, non-covenantal relationships, things that make us shaky, etc., how many of those things are ugly and we hate them and really we should just say “Goodbye” to? Because things that make us shaky are things that keep us from standing on the Rock.

I would be lying to you if I said there wasn’t anything in my life that makes me shaky. But I am willing to admit it, which is half the battle. Things and habits that maybe I did inherit, or pick up here and there, that are ugly to my soul and I hate that I struggle with, but really I have a hard time giving it up. I need to be ruthless with those things. I need to be a spiritual minimalist.

I pray to be convinced that looking to the right and to the left will eventually make me fall. I need to know I, too, am susceptible to the tottering heights. And I need to know there is no distraction that is worth that steep little tumble.

 

Since last time we talked.

Hello.
I am gone a lot.
Are you sick of hearing that from me?
Probably.
My apologies.

I am tired tonight and don’t know what I want to tell you.

Which means that you are going to get a picture tour of my life since the last time we talked.



This actually isn't from one of my travels. It's right down the raod from my house.



A very dear friend of mine was in town from out west. So naturally we galavanted all around.

I told you about Jesus painting the town red, didn't I? And you thought I was kidding.

And have you ever seen anything so yellow!? My goodness.

Sorry. I am just so into Fall right now. It's everywhere. It's glorious. And sorry, golden leaves, but you were not the ones chosen to be redeemed by the return of Christ. :) Poor little guys.

WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THIS PUMPKIN?!?! I mean, I think it's amazing, I am just really confused.

My friend and I went to a high school reunion of hers, the year of which that graduation happened will remain unsaid. And are your eyes shocked yet with seeing so many patterns on so few bodies?

 

I just couldn't resist. Ever since the Exodus I just have something for red doors. I will have a house with a red door. Hold me to it, ok?

And check out this Picasso shirt she gifted me with! How Fab.

Went on a little boat trip and saw this baby. Swoon.

It's getting cold here. Since I was out west all summer and didn't have any summer here at home I don't feel like winter should already be approaching, but....it turns out the rest of the world wasn't on "delay" as I was away for months.
Most of you will scorn me for saying this, but I hope we have a real winter this winter. The ground needs the moisture and my fur coats need more of a workout.
Anyway.
Fall truly was probably the most lovely one I have ever seen. It just goes so fast always. I am enjoying the last shreds of leaves on the trees, even though I have succombed to wearing turtlenecks already.

Last week I was reading one night and came across this passage. I know I have read it countless times before but that night it struck a new chord.

Ephesians 2:4-7 But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our tresspasses, made us alive together with Chrst--by grace you have been saved---and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness towards us in Christ Jesus.
*Isn't that incredible! The whole section hinges there on the little phrase "SO THAT."
This says that he has rich mercy towards us BECAUSE of the love he loves us with. As in, his love towards us is what propels his mercy towards us. It's his motivation, the movement.
EVEN WHEN our sins held us down and dead, he made life come to us--those of us who have been called by him and accepted the same Caller. And not only are we then saved and made alive with Christ, we were RAISED with Christ.
Look at it this way: God didn't just raise Christ from the dead, he raised us from the dead, too. With Christ. Jesus came out of that grave that morning and we likewise followed suit. Then, get this, he seated us with Christ in the heavenlies. Why? BECAUSE WHERE ELSE WOULD WE WANT TO BE?!??? Let's be honest. We want to be by the One who loves us.

SO.THAT.
This is the kicker. See, being shown mercy because of love, and being brought to life and raised from the dead and seated in heaven....all of that good stuff...that wasn't any reason in and of itself. That wasn't the goal. That was the road. That sequence of events doesn't answer the "What?" question, it answers the "Why?" question.
All of that happened SO THAT----So>that> in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness towards us in Christ Jesus.
THAT, Wolfies, is what he wanted to do.
He wanted to show us his immeasurable riches of grace through kindness.
That's the "What?"
A display of his grandeur.
Him being gracious to us is only so he can show us more grace.
Doesn't it make you think then that all those things we had to go through (the salvation, the being raised from the dead, the life in Christ, the seated in the heavenlies, etc etc etc) are only the shallow elements of his grace?
I mean, if he did all of that...which is measurable by the way...just so that in the future he can show us the IMMEASURABLE riches of his grace, doesn't it allude to the fact that we haven't even scratched the surface yet?
Wow.

In the words of my favorite 15 year old boy:
Get you some of that.