Glory.

I think it all really happened when I decided I needed to wear more color; let's put a filibuster of sorts on all that black I wear, shall we?
The only obvious next stop, then, was to Instagram-stalk some of my favorite bloggers (who wear lots of great color) and see what I needed to get into my closet.
But herein lies the problem. Me, being a smart-phone novice (I don't believe in that tech stuff yet), didn't contemplate the fact that I would be seeing more pictures than just their colorful outfits.
No. There they were, eating and drinking in adorable cafes, having adventures in orchards and cities and Paris streets and buying amazing deer antlers in Texas.

And suddenly I didn't just want to wear more color. Other feelings and wants were surfacing, too.

Was I re-thinking my life?

I thought and thought and thought.

Surely not. I love my life. I love where it has been, I love where it is, I love where it's going.
So what was that?
What were my mind and heart and emotions telling me I was missing?

Then I knew. See, I wasn't really jealous of those colorful blogger's lives. No. And I wasn't even jealous of their activities; I have eaten and drunk in adorable cafes, and had adventures in orchards and cities and on Paris streets and in antique stores surrounded by furs and antlers in Texas.
That's not it.

But....well....Instagram wasn't really IN (or INvented, whichever) when all that stuff was happening to me.....so.....so.....you and the masses never saw me doing all that stuff.
That's what I was feeling.
I was before the time of gaining all those followers.
I never got so many "likes" to know that you all approved of me.

And suddenly, as I was scrolling through a picture tour of their lives I felt like I wanted all of you to know those things about MY life....


Wait wait wait.
Hold the phone.
Why in the world did I want you all to know that stuff about me?

What good would that do for me?
Would it make you like me more? Think I was cooler? Want to hang out with me?
Why should I care?
Why was I caring?


I have been reading through the book of John a lot lately and I am continuously confronted by how he keeps saying things like "the Son can do nothing by himself..." (John 5:12) or "If I testify about myself, my testimony is not valid..." (5:31) or "He who speaks on his own does so to gain honor for himself..." (7:18) or "I am not seeking glory for myself.." (8:50) or "If I glorify myself, my glory means nothing.." (8:54). Over and over again this is what he, the God of all universes who came in human form, says about himself. He is not here for his own glory.
Even though he is the only one who has any legitimate claim to glory. But yet he did not come to glorify himself.

Crazy.

Crazy different from humanity.

Isn't it great that God just isn't like us at all?
Isn't it startling how not like God we are?

Because there he is, not seeking anything for himself, admitting that if he were to glorify himself it wouldn't be valid, and here I am, wondering if you all should know about all the cool stuff I have done with my life.

Blah. Blah blah blah.
My own thoughts make me want to gag.
Do you know what I mean? Being so offended by your own heart....

And I see this happening all the time in my life, now that I am looking for ways that I desire to showcase my own glory.
Over and over again; I am more than happy to tell you and everyone else ALL about me.
"So, what do you do?" I get asked. And my initial thought, "Well wouldn't I love to tell you...." or "Have you ever traveled anywhere?" someone will say to me, only then to find my brain instantly wanting to respond with, "Everywhere," despite the fact that that of course is not even true. But I want them to THINK it's true. So I name a few places, letting them think that the reason I am not naming more places is because of course I want to be humble (not because I actually haven't been there, which would be the truth).

Because, honey, I am overwhelmingly human and you better believe that my MO is to seek my own glory.

*Gag.

And speaking of Gag, or Gaga, rather. While I give no practice to the listening to of Lady Gaga, I was flipping through the radio a while back and heard this really catchy jam, only to be shocked when the song ended and I was told by the DJ that I had been rocking to a Lady Gaga song.
In expecting to be assaulted by a barrage of heinous lyrics, when I looked up the words to what I had been jamming to I was pleasantly surprised to see words and phrases that were nothing more than............honest.

While I do not typically think she is an expert on the human nature, this time, I admit, she nails it:

 ....If only fame had an I.V......
I live for the applause, applause, applause
I live for the applause-plause
Live for the applause-plause
Live for the way that you cheer and scream for me
The applause, applause, applause
Give me that thing that I love
Put your hands up, make 'em touch, touch (make it real loud)
Give me that thing that I love 
Put your hands up, make 'em touch, touch (make it real loud)

See, here is her reality; she has gotten the glory this world can give:

Is that a pirate ship?!!

I wish I was less like Lady Gaga. I wish I didn't have thoughts like, "I should have had Instagram 6 years ago." I wish I didn't feel this overwhelming desire for people to KNOW what I have done and where I have been and subsequently give appropriate honor.

Why can't we just do what we do and enjoy what we do and leave it at that? Why are we all so human, so not like Christ? SO self-glorifying?

Is it cliche for me to say? Yes.
Am I going to say it regardless? Yes.

It's because we ARE so human, we ARE so self-glorifying.
And THAT, Wolfies, is also why Jesus came. Because left to our own devices all we do is seek our own glory and approve or disapprove of all the others.

And so he came. Not in his own legitimate glory. Not in the power he could have. Not in the force it would have taken him no effort to conjure.

He came as a helpless baby, and as a man in a body susceptible to heat and exhaustion and dehydration and bruising and bleeding and death.
He came humbly, not seeking his own glory SO THAT we, the self-glory-seekers, would see him, and would know the stark real contrast between who he is and who we most assuredly are, and in that point of KNOWING would see the overwhelming truth that we have NO glory in ourselves. Whether we seek it ourselves or are bestowed with it by others.

He came in humility so we would know our vanity, and in that knowing fall at his feet, shedding our fake crowns and dismissing the approvals and applause we have received from all the other glory-seekers.
He humbly came for all the self-exalting. You, me, and Lady Gaga alike.

Personal Happiness.

Let me share a thought or two with you. Because I simply can't stop thinking about it.

A few weeks back I was a little vexed, if I do say so myself, by a conversation I had with some people who I feel pretty confidently do not know the Lord. Sure, maybe you think that's a harsh judgment on my part, but don't worry, they would say they don't know him too.

Anyway, we were chatting and like I said, I was getting vexed. Not quite an Ann of Green Gables "You called me 'Carrots'" kind of vexed moment, although I wouldn't put it past me to have a moment like that in the right situation, but one that got my blood boiling under the surface nonetheless.

There was a situation that arose which brought up the topic of people acting in ways I would characterize as completely un-Biblical. It goes against the created order and is destructive not only to themselves, but also to the lives of countless other people, not matter how celebrated it is by modern culture, media, and any other worldly what-have-you.
And as we were dialoguing about this, out of the mouth of one of my said non-Christian acquaintances comes the phrase, "Whatever makes them happy. Just so long as they are happy."

Disagreeing entirely with that phrase I cast a parting comment of "There is more to life than your own personal happiness..." and we all went our separate ways and that was the end of it.

But not for me.
I can't stop thinking about it. Thinking about how I don't believe that is true on any kind of moral or social ground, thinking about how it both simply and supremely leaves something to be desired for my fiercely loving, fighting, pilgrim-ing spirit.

Just so long as I am happy??!

It stopped me in my tracks and has made me think over and over again, "Really? Is that all you are living for? Have you nothing else to compel you to get out of bed in the mornings?"

Sigh.
It makes me love Jesus more. Because Jesus says there is more for me than that. He has given me something more to do. He tells me there are battles to be fought and truth to stand for and lives and souls to protect and people to minister to and souls at risk.
And, too, my life lived only seeking my own personal happiness is about as Blah of an existence as I can imagine. I want to desire more than that.

I feel terribly sorry for those people I spoke with that day; it seems they are not out on any great quest. I mean, after all, how hard can it be to find your own happiness?

 And it still has me thinking. How in the world would they ever come up with that idea? I mean, where does the world get this stuff? Surely it can't be their own idea...
Ecclesiastes 3 says that God has set eternity in the hearts of all people.
Well what in the world is eternal about seeking your own happiness as the supreme goal of your life?

Nothing.

And Houston, I think that is our problem.

In addition to the eternity that the Bible speaks of, it also waxes eloquently on such subjects as Believers being "More than conquerors" (Romans 8:37) and it talks about these battles we have that are "not against flesh and blood" (Ephesians 6:12) It makes such strong claims about us being able to "do all things through Christ who strengthens us," (Philippians 4:13) and while I am probably not in reality as much of an expert in things like international crime solving and espionage as I like to imagine I am, I can put two and two together enough to know that phrases like the ones I just quoted are talking about more than our journeys to do whatever makes us the most happy.
It's not saying, "You are more than a conqueror...of your own boredom," and it doesn't say "Our battle is not against flesh and blood in your search for your own pleasure," nor does it say, "You can do all things through Christ who strengthens you....even the hard things like going to get your nails done and buying yourself a new something...all the way across town."

No.
Because that would be ridiculous.
God would have never wasted such words on things as trivial as my own happiness. Or yours.
Clearly he is talking about bigger things than that.
Bigger things than, I am finding out, the world is not paying attention do, or admitting the existence of, or whatever (I am still processing that part).

But isn't that so interesting? God speaks about things the world would rather take no part in. Things those acquaintances of mine seem to not recognize at all. I keep pondering and I wonder, "Don't they ever think there has got to be more to all of this than whatever they want to do? Are they even aware that there is a world and a big battle out there over---not only their souls---but those of all peoples around them?"

I don't think so, I have concluded. I think they are completely unaware.

And as I run that through the filter in my mind of knowing that eternity is in their hearts too, not just mine, it only makes sense then that something is blocking their sight of it all. This is no new thought, obviously. II Corinthians 4:4 says, "The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel that displays the glory of Christ, who is the image of God." I don't know why I am surprised then to find out that the object the devil is using to keep these acquaintance's thoughts away from all the eternal implications of their life is their own personal happiness.
It makes perfect sense. It keeps them never looking to more in the world than whatever creates for them the highest satisfaction. It keeps them living inside their own life and daily reality; never beyond that.

This concept is reminiscent to something C.S. Lewis wrote in The Screwtape Letters. This bit coming from a seasoned devil who is talking to a devil-in-training about how to keep their "patients" (i.e. humans) away from thinking about non-temporal things:
(*remember, whenever they say "Enemy"--because they are devils---they are referring to God):

"I once had a patient, a sound atheist, who used to read in the British Museum. One day, as he sat reading, I saw a train of thought in his mind beginning to go the wrong way. The Enemy, of course, was at his elbow in a moment. Before I knew where I was I saw my twenty years' work beginning to totter. If I had lost my head and begun to attempt a defence by argument, I should have been undone. But I was not such a fool. I struck instantly at the part of the man which I had best under my control, and suggested that it was just about time he had some lunch. The Enemy presumably made the counter-suggestion (you know how one can never quite overhear what He says to them?) that this was more important than lunch. At least I think that must have been His line, for when I said, "Quite. In fact much too important to tackle at the end of a morning," the patient brightened up considerably; and by the time I had added "Much better come back after lunch and go into it with a fresh mind," he was already halfway to the door. Once he was in the street the battle was won. I showed him a newsboy shouting the midday paper, and a No. 73 bus going past, and before he reached the bottom of the steps I had got into him an unalterable conviction that, whatever odd ideas might come into a man's head when he was shut up alone with his books, a healthy dose of "real life" (by which he meant the bus and the newsboy) was enough to show him that all "that sort of thing" just couldn't be true."

Isn't that so telling? And how terrifying that all the devil has to do to keep people away from thinking about eternal things, things of great significance, or the ACTUAL reality of life is to get them to think about "real life."

And only "real life"-----like traffic and lunch and the weather and the news.


Notice that ones of the devil's main tactics is to make no mention of himself in this. He does not show himself and subsequently scare them into not believing in God. Rather, he keeps them completely unaware of his existence or the existence of any Supernatural force upon their lives at all.
Because any clear picture of a Supernatural reality that might work it's way into the minds of these happiness-seekers would completely disrupt all of the devil's plans in their lives. The devil, being a spirit, would rather have himself be completely un-believed in than to run the risk of humans knowing another reality exists. Because if HE is believed in, then the eternal heart in all of us would want to believe in a God as well.

No, it seems. The devil does not even dare whisper about the language that God speaks, let alone all of those life-is-more-than-your-personal-happiness-things that God uses that language to speak of.

It's a thought, Wolfies. There is more to our lives than our own personal happiness. Don't be blinded to the reality outside of your own daily life.

Constant.

Maybe it's the time of year (aka, almost "School time"), maybe it's the seasons of life, maybe it's the heat, or maybe it's the way things ebb and flow, but I have been in a----mood----lately.
That it makes me want to be Doctor Quinn Medicine Woman should be no surprise to any of you.
The "mood" reminds me of being a kid, of getting my school books (I was home-schooled), of going to my brother's football games, of piano lessons starting again, of getting ready to preserve all the fruits and veggies our gardening neighbors would sell us, and it makes me want to read a novel about Amish (I always did that in the Fall) or watch episodes of Home Improvement.

Call it nostalgia.

Even though nostalgia is not something I am prone to.
I think that's what I am feeling.

In thinking over my life lately, it has just occurred to me (I realize what I am saying next is elementary), for the very first time, that I will never be younger again.
Like, I could never say, "You know, I think I liked 23 the best---let's just go back and live in that stage again."
It can't happen.

Who knew!?

Not me.
I mean. Consciously I knew it, obviously. But practically? No. Time just keeps going. Life just keeps going. I figured there was a pause button somewhere.

And I will tell you what; it makes me thankful for the constancy of God. One of his names that I love is Ancient of Days. It means he has seen everything. He remembers all; he will judge all. How comforting to know that wherever I have been, he has been there to.

Even now then, as I am aware that I can never go back again, I am more thankful that not only has he been everywhere I have been, but he will BE everywhere I will be.

Wow.
What a Hallelujah if there ever was one.

The other morning I was reading and came across Psalm 71:5 "For you have been my hope, O Sovereign Lord, my confidence since my youth."

I am blessed to have known the Lord from a young age, so this verse is true to me... He has been my confidence from my youth.
But not only that, he has been my comfort and confidant and companion. I have intimately known that I have never walked alone, I have never traveled by myself, I have never traversed without a Guide. He has been there. He has seen all my days.
What a beautiful thing.

We are never alone. He never leaves. He knows all of our days.
And he wants us to know HIM in all of those. If there is something keeping you away from Christ, pitch it. I promise you this, it's not worth it.
He is better. Let him be what you need.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And I wanted to tell you one more thing.


I said "Yes."

And that makes me so excited.

It makes me so excited because he loves Jesus and miracle of all miracle---he loves me (I am getting the better end of the deal, though, let me tell you), and we both love silly things like maps and old books and big words and talking about what we ate for lunch that day, as well as discussing why life without Jesus is pointless or how we want our life to positively affect people for the gospel.

And he prays with me and for me and over me. Because he knows that apart from Christ, we can do nothing (John 15:5) and that without Christ, we have no good thing (Psalm 16:2).

Truly can I say that the Lord has dealt bountifully with me (Psalm 116:7).

Love you, Wolfies.

Mosquito Nets.

Let me just set your mind to rest one time and for all right now about something I am sure you have been thinking:
Wild black raspberry jam does not just make itself.
No no. Not in the slightest way.
I realize that when you go to a grocery store and see entire shelves, aisles long, full of jams, jelly, preserves, conserves, and chutneys of all kinds that your mind may assume they just magically appeared there in your super market.
But no.
That is not the case.
How do I know this?
Because I am in the jam making process.

You will remember that last year I went absolutely bonkers about the wild berries that are in the woods around my house. Well it's time again, Wolfies. Oodles and oodles of them surround my residence, taunting me with their abundance and mocking my efforts in futility to capture them all. But I did a pretty decent job and I just cooked a bunch of them to make jam; feeling pretty good about this year's crop, let me tell you.

BUT. And there is always a "but" with these things. This was not a battle easily won. Before I could even think of cooking and sanitizing jars and pectin and all the various what-have-yous, there is this little bit about PICKING the berries. For get the thorns, they were the least of my worries. Forget the heat, it hasn't gotten hot here yet. This year?
Mosquitos.
That's right.
The vampires of the insect world are out in full force. And they are vicious.

So the story goes that one morning I got up to pick berries around 6:00 am, and I was dressed in what I thought was fool-proof berry picking attire. Pants, knee high leather boots, a t-shirt covered by a hooded sweatshirt. The hood tied tightly so that the only part of my body really showing was the middle oval of my face.
This was going to be great.

And it was great. I got out there in no time and was picking picking picking in the immense thickets when out of nowhere I feel this little biting pain on my face.

Moquito.
SWAT!
I made quick work of him!

I did not, however, make fast enough work of his friends.

Continuing on in my berry quest, they continued in their quest for my blood. Not to be deterred by silly little bugs though, I pushed on, figuring I would take care of the carnage on my face when I got back.
And "Carnage" is almost an appropriate word.
Upon arriving home, ONE HOUR LATER, I look in the mirror to see.....what?
Any guesses?

FIFTEEN BUG BITES ON MY FACE.

MY FACE.

Just a sampling for you.

{Ha. It reminds me of a year ago when I was on a bike ride and was falling...into a barbwire fence.....and out of my mouth like nothing I yell, "NOT THE MONEY MAKER!!!"  How ridiculous am I?!}

So there they were---on my face----("the money maker"). And I had to leave for work in an hour! Being the resourceful woman I am, I did this treatment of vinegar and baking soda (NOT at the same time) and voila, they were gone in an hour. But I was still offended that they had even come close in the first place.

Not to be deterred by the little varmint blood-suckers, I did what any self-respecting berry-picking woman would do.

You get angry and make a hat. A mosquito net of the most sophisticated kind.

I had them utterly confounded, let me tell you.
And I got berries galore.

And then I was a happy berry picker.

What a joyous occasion. To have buckets full of the fruits of my labor.

All of this is to tell you---wild black raspberry jam doesn't just happen.

And as I was out there, fighting literally thousands of bugs, going to great lengths to keep myself untainted by their claws, all I could think was, "Why don't I fight with such fervor for my relationship with the Lord?" For surely, no matter how great home-canned jam is, it's nothing compared to Him. And knowing him.

Do you ever wonder where your fight has gone? Where all of your intentionality to remain close to Christ has flown away to?
If I am honest, I do sometimes. It's in those seasons of busyness (like mine right now), or those times of being listless or apathetic.
And when I let those things, which are silly (like mosquitoes), get in the way of he and I, also like the effect of the mosquitoes, the life-blood gets drained right out of me. Causing me to become even more apathetic, listless, disinterested, and then sometimes making it all completely slip my mind.

Why don't I make a mosquito net for my spiritual life?
Why don't I understand the life-broad truth that nothing worthwhile JUST HAPPENS. It takes a conscious, concerted effort, or you get nothing.

To make jam, I have to be intentional.
To stay close to Christ, I have to be intentional.

The precept is the same.

It's a thought, babies. What are you not being intentional about when it comes to Christ?
And what kind of "mosquito net" can you create to change it?

Love you, Wolfies.
I wish I knew every single one of you in real life. 

Reluctance.

I would say, "I have a confession," but I have done that a time or two and it also implies that I would be telling you something you didn't know.
So I will say, "I have an admittance." Because it accepts that I am telling you something you are all too well aware of.

I have been very quiet on this here blog lately.
Or in layman's terms: I haven't written very much this year.

While some people say, "Excuses won't do you any good," I AM going to give you an excuse.
Two of them, actually.
; )

Number One: I work a lot. I love what I do, but it makes my time not be my own. IF you know what I mean (if you have a job I am sure you know what I mean).

Number Two: This guy.

Look! There I am in the reflection of his glasses!

I know. How great is that.
So great.
But see, here is the caveat that has changed things for YOU. He and I don't live by each other; we live something like 3 hours away from each other. So, rather than spending time writing thoughts and nothings to YOU, I am on the phone each night talking to HIM. And I am traveling each weekend to see HIM.
Which, admittedly, is the way it's supposed to be.
And I couldn't be happier about it.
Because he is great. And he loves Jesus so much and he makes me love Jesus more. And he is brilliant and talented and funny and interesting and wise and calm and all kinds of other wonderful things that I will tell you about sometime.


But---I do miss you, my dear Wolfies. So I am going to try to be better.

*Sigh.
It feels so good to have told you that. And I guess I figured that once you knew what was going on with me you would forgive me for my absence. Because you are great like that.

*Sigh.

Needless to say, I have been gone a lot (every weekend--and most weekdays,too). And it reminds me of all that time in my life before I decided to be done rushing. I remember once when I was living with Al and Ella she asked me, "Do you ever not want to go?" and I had to pause and think about it for a bit.
"If I had somewhere I wanted to be and it was keeping me away from there," I said, "then I would be more reluctant to leave. But since I don't, it's fine for now."

For whatever reason that has stuck with me through the years and I keep going back to this concept of being "reluctant" to leave. Back then, when I was rushing, I was not reluctant.
Now? A little more. Even though I love what I do, every morning when I leave for work, part of me wishes I could just stay home.
But on the other hand a part of me doesn't want to stay home. I want to be out doing things and being productive and interacting.
It's a battle in me. I have been known to say, "When I am not adventuring, I am home," and it is basically true. A piece of my heart is always home, wherever home happens to be at that time.
So in this season of my life where I virtually get one suitcase unpacked only to start packing another, I was thinking about this reluctance when I came across a passage of scripture where Jesus is told that all the wine is gone (John 2) and he says to his mother, "Dear woman, why do you involve me? My time has not yet come."

I always think this is so interesting because, while he shows a bit of reluctance or hesitation when faced with this need, he goes ahead and does it anyway.

Why?

This miracle is touted as his first. Meaning, he hadn't done anything startling yet. Nothing to catapult him into the limelight. Make him famous. Bring on the crowds. Bring on the ridicule and the Pharisees and the Sadducees and the skeptics and the people who cut holes in the roof to get to you and the long journeys with the dusty feet and the sweaty brows and the no place to lay your head.

Was the reluctance----or maybe I shouldn't even use that word. Maybe I should say the "pause" or the "calculation"---was the him acknowledging that there was and was not a "right time" a showing of his humanity?
Like him being a realist and knowing that having a rock as a pillow is not plush, and feeding 5,000 probably makes you miss your lunch time too, and crowds following you constantly is going to make you need some alone time (i.e. all the times he went by himself to pray), and slipping away through mobs that want to kill you might be a tad stressful, and having your skin ripped to shreds is really painful and then knowing that death by crucifixion is about the worst thing in the world.

Is that why it wasn't his time? Why he was reluctant to start his ministry? Reluctant to get the show on the road?
Was this the humanity part of his God-hood? He knew what was coming; was he tired just thinking about it?

YET.

Yet he did it anyway.

He turned that water into wine.

He caused the commotion.

He got the ball rolling

He let the God-hood part overrule the human-hood part.

Because there was a wedding going on, and there was a family's reputation on the line, and there was an instance where someone might not be provided for.

And God doesn't let people go un-provided for.
So he did only what he could do. He defied natural laws (well, he worked around them. Because he created them, so he can do whatever he wants with them), he made something that wasn't into something that was, he put to shame all the impending pain and exhaustion and betrayal and horrific death....and reluctance to start it all.....and provided in ways nobody else could.
Or can.
Or will.
Or does.

Because that's who this God I serve is. That's the kind of love we are dealing with here, babies. He put aside his needs to meet yours. Mine.

And so I am challenged. What good thing am I reluctant to do because it will require sacrifice on my end? And how can I actually feel that way if I consider what he may have been reluctant to do---but did anyway----for me?

~~~~~
Did I mention that special guy and I had to go to Los Angeles?
Well. We did. For a wedding.
And for the Getty Museum. And the ocean.
: )

In our wedding finery.

The Getty Villa. Sans water in the pool :(

Because when we were hiking we were in a cloud, too.

Be Our Guest.

To this day my favorite Disney movie is Beauty and the Beast.

I know, I know. I am twenty-something and still, when toodling around the house cleaning or cooking or something, every now and again I think, "I should have Beauty and the Beast on in the background."

So I do.

Oh boy, do I.

And while the first song ("Provincial Life") is really my favorite, I just can't really get over the Be Our Guest one. You all know that hospitality is like---BIG---to me, so I guess it goes without saying.
But, like all the other times: I will say it again. Hospitality is big to me.

I love being an overnight guest. I love having overnight guests. I think there is something special that happens when you wake up in the same house and eat breakfast in your jams with someone. There is a bond.

 

But being an overnight guest is different than having overnight guests. I know this because, honestly, I have been an overnight guest way more than I have had overnight guests (hopefully the tally will be evened out soon!).
Here are some snapshots (some you may remember) from some of my favorite times of being an overnight guest.

Since I am an overnight guest frequently due to the nature of my life, I have thought long and hard about this subject. Long and hard. I have been fortunate that the overwhelming majority of my overnight-guest-experiences have been wonderful. The Lord has blessed me with great peoples in my life and for that I am grateful. But sometimes I can't help but think: "But what if these were not good experiences?"

You know what I mean? In my opinion, things can go from good to bad in about a matter of three seconds. I have told you this in so many words in describing at length my feelings about bathrooms. Easy peasy, things can be good, and then they can go very south. But I haven't had too many of those experiences (praise the Lord).

Back to what I said though, being a house-guest is quite different than having house-guests. I mean, you are kind of at the mercy of your host and hostess. You eat what they give you, you stay where they tell you, you use what they provide. No matter how you cut it it is a sign of generosity and generosity is the be accepted thankfully and gracefully.

And as I was pondering this in my head, the thought occurred to me, "But what if I was a terrible house-guest?"

Ungrateful. Rude. Demanding. Critical.

What if I put up a fit? Or was like, "Oh sorry, I don't eat that...." as I look across a table that the hostess has so graciously set and put together?

I mean, can you imagine? Pride much? Looking at what they have done (that you don't deserve and didn't pay for) and basically saying, "Oh yeah, that's not good enough. You don't meet my standards..."

Yikes.

My mind ran to all kinds of places and scenarios about how terrible that would be and as I was ghastly horrified, I was reading in a different translation of the Bible. For whatever reason I picked up A New Living Translation, which is done in totally modern English. I was browsing through there the other morning and came upon Psalm 39.
The NLT put it into quite the little perspective for me.

"Hear my prayer, O Lord; listen to my cry! Don't sit back, unmindful of my tears. For I am your guest. I am a traveler passing through the earth, as all my fathers were." (very 12)

Do you see that??! I AM YOUR GUEST.
At first I thought, "How rude to say!" for I thought that it was implying, "I am your guest, wait on me, do my bidding. Go out of your way to please me."
But then. Then. I realized that that's not what it means at all. Because what happens when you are someone's guest?
YOU ARE AT THEIR MERCY.

Now tell me. When was the last time you rightfully judged your life and admitted, "God, I am at your mercy"?
Because you are.

We are his guest.
If our concept of the ordering of the world is right, we know that we are powerless apart from Christ. We cannot provide for ourselves. We cannot make things happen. We cannot save ourselves. We can't keep our own lives from harm.
We are at his mercy. Because we are his guest.

We eat what he gives us, we stay where he tells us to, we use what he provides, because all we have is what he has provided.

What a thought.

So then, because it begs the question: What kind of house-guest are you?

Do you look at your life and understand that it is all due to his generosity and his love (and love isn't all just flowers and hearts, it can be tough sometimes too)? What you have has come from the hand of God and that is to be treated reverently?

Or.....are you maybe in the other camp? Like the person refusing to eat what is placed before you? Because maybe it doesn't fit your standards? Or because it doesn't seem to be good enough for what you think you deserve?

The thing is, Wolfies, we don't deserve any of it. And we most certainly didn't pay for it. We are the beggars at his table, the lame ones he brought in off the street and chose to make his own.
He is not our guest, as if he is at our mercy to do as we bid. We are his guest. Don't get that role reversed, babies.

Revel.

Remember my Robins?

Eggs hatch.

And then the babies need to be fed.

Pretty horses outside my window.

Fuschias. My favorite.

Basil and Tarragon.

Tiny tiny tiny and perfect.

Last night was kind of magical. It was one of those evenings where, if you live in the country and on a gravel road (like I do), you are familiar with, but not because it happens so often but because it is so rare and you therefore remember it vividly.
For starters, there was no wind. Now, I live in the middle of a wind farm, so not having any wind happens almost never. A number of years ago they put up something like 268 of those huge wind turbines in an 8 mile radius of my house because when it comes to wind energy, my backyard is like Saudi Arabia.
So there was no wind and this almost never happens.

But when it does....

Magic.

I say that because there is a quality the stillness adds that seems other worldly.
As I said, I live on a gravel road. And what do gravel roads produce? Anybody?

Dust.

Which usually flies away on the breeze as quickly as the speeding car produced the tan colored cloud.
But when there is no wind....it just hangs there. Almost like fog. And it either floats or stands completely still. Sometimes a very slight breeze will come and will make it dance and twirl the way a full skirt of organza would on a little girl moving in circles.

So last night was that night; a night when the dust hangs onto the air.

Last night was also a night of dark clouds. Surprisingly it never rained, but the inky tone to the sky made the green of the forests and fields look like velvet, so dark it was, lit only by the setting sun which gave it's most lovely light display in the north sky (very strange), the only direction in which clouds did not cover.

It can't help but put you in a mood. It can't help but mesmerize you, take your breath away a bit and make you know that words are not needed. You just revel.

Yesterday afternoon I had a lovely little visit at work from a very dear friend and two of her babies. What a fabulous surprise! It brightened up my whole day and after they had gone I continued to smile and be thankful. Thankful for them, thankful for surprises, thankful for someone taking the time to say hi, thankful that they care, thankful that I am blessed to have really good people in my life.

I sat there at work being reminded of a few days ago when I was over at their house visiting for a bit and, my friend, being the proficient gardener and cultivator of all kinds of wild plants and growing things that she is, showed me around her yards a bit. And we talked and walked awhile, grabbing this herb and that edible weed and that flowering shrub, rubbing them together in our hands to release their oils and breathe in deep of their brilliant and pungent fragrances.

We do this sort of thing often (basically every time I am over) and were joking that the people who drive by her house and see us doing this frequently are probably like, "What's wrong with those women? Why are they always smelling those plants....?"

And we laughed. Because laughter is good among friends.

In thinking about all those delightful growing things we were partaking of, I can never help but be amazed that while they all are green in color and they all spring up from the dirt, they are about as different as a Moped from a Mercedez.

So last night then, in the magical stillness, I had to go over the another friends' house to pick up some books and paintbrushes and homemade bread.
How great is that?! To have friends that I can get books and paintbrushes and homemade bread from?!
In much the same way, what did we do before I left? Walked around her (also beautiful) yard, looking at lovely flowers and growing plants and smelling leaves of all kinds.

And as I was there with her, being reminded of my other friend as well, as we were doing a very similar activity, I was a little overwhelmed, if I admit it. I was overwhelmed by the fact that God orchestrates both.
Really blessed friendships and really spectacular foliage.

I think of the beauty of nights like last night, the vast vast vast array of plants alone, and know that anything less than praising God for being who he is and creating such excellencies has to be some sort of heresy.

How can it be denied? That God is good and creative and wants to be involved in every infinitesimal aspect of our lives I feel is never more evident then when you look at a flower in a rock garden, not any bigger than a penny, yet still so full of color and life and design, is there any other appropriate response than "Amen"?

And yet.

For all the beauty of these gardens, for all the most intricate engineering of them, for the beauty of nights where the dust hangs in the air, I was reminded that creation is not the crown of creation.

We are.

Humans.

Living, breathing, moving.

Praying, weeping, mourning, rejoicing.

Whatever the state.

Walking around gardens on still nights.

Surprising friends at work just to say hi.

Loaning out paintbrushes and books.

Calling to say hi.

God is most glorified in us.

We are the ones Christ made in his image (Colossians 1).

We are the ones with souls that will live through eternity.

And these times we spent in these gardens, looking at this flower here, and smelling that herb there, what were we doing? Connecting. Building relationships. Sharing in the glory of God's goodness. Doing what we were created to do: be in relationship with others, for God is three in one; it is not good for us to be alone (Genesis 2:18).

For not only is God so good that he has given us flowers and plants that produce food to nourish our bodies and herbs that make things taste even more sublime, but he has, in a sense, given us to each other. He has given us people to live life with and share things with.

Like quiet nights, and times of weeping. Paintbrushes and rejoicing.

And isn't it all really kind of miraculous?

Roses and relationships alike.

All come from His hand.

Because he is so good to us.

So today, think about it.

Whether it's the beauty of June that jogs your memory of it or something else entirely, recognize the fact that not only, if you have entrusted your life to Christ as Savior, has God given you himself (and that would have been enough), but that he has then gone and given you people and companions to walk this life with. People to revel in Christ with. People to walk these days with, and then to worship God in eternity with. You have never beheld a mere mortal, Wolfies. You have never known nor will you ever know a more excellent creation than those people God has given you.
What a good God we have.