On Being a Grandmother

I am totally smitten! Yesterday I held my 2 day old grandson for 3 hours while he slept peacefully. My arm was dead asleep, but I wasn't about to disturb his blissful state. I looked into that perfect little face and the orbit of my life shifted. Now I understand what my friends - those who are grandmothers - have been telling me. There is no explaining it - it just is the most profound of events. Your baby has a baby. It is supremely extraordinary and amazing. Of course he is beautiful and astonishing and perfect; but, beyond that, he affirms that God does indeed know what he is doing. Outside the world is chaos - earthquakes and hurricanes and all sorts of evil, manmade and natural. But here, in the haven of our little family, for this moment in time, life is about as good as it gets.

Affirmation

I've been feeling a little frayed around the edges lately, like an old pair of boots that has tread one too many miles and is showing a good bit of wear in the heels. There's a lot going on in my life these days, what with trying to sell a house, pack up to move to a new one, manage a full-time career, maintain my spirit and keep the body running. I guess the multi-tasking just takes its toll after a while. So, amid the chaos that is my current life, I have been desparately seeking to still myself and harken to the echo of the divine - the still, small voice, if you will. This morning as I took those few precious moments to quietly sit before the Lord, He blessed me by leading me to these verses from Psalm 90 in the Message:

        Surprise us with love at daybreak;

then we'll skip and dance all the day long.

Make up for the bad times with some good times;

we've seen enough evil to last a lifetime.

Let your servants see what you're best at -

the ways you rule and bless your children.

And let the loveliness of our Lord, our God, rest on us,

confirming the work that we do.

Oh yes, Affirm the work that we do!

 

My daughter Cory has a job interview today after many months of trying to piece together a living following a lay-off. As her mother, it is only natural that I have been concerned for her; and yes, I'll admit it, I have fretted and stewed about her, sometimes before I have prayed. But I have spent my due time on my knees as well. Cory reminded me in an email this morning that I prayed this very verse over her four years ago. She had just moved to Birmingham, AL, to begin an internship with Southern Progress, the parent company of Southern Living, with whom she will interview today.  The words of her email were a sweet reminder that our sovereign God really does rule and bless us. He delights in our skipping and dancing all the day long to the beautiful rhythms of His Grace. Perhaps He is bringing Cory full circle and, after a great deal of exploration and soul-searching on her part, is indeed affirming her work. We'll know soon enough. Suffice it to say, she's had some character-building times these past couple of years. Maybe today He will open the floodgates to some good times ahead. Regardless of what direction He takes her, or any of us for that matter, He is always the Perfector of our Faith who never ceases surprising us with love at daybreak.

When You Take a Vow

I have a particular pet peeve that centers on what I believe is a very selfish and flippant attitude that people hold regarding commitments they have made. I have always fastidiously held the position that Solomon hit the nail on the head when he stated, "It is better not to vow than to make a vow and not fulfill it." (Ecclesiastes 5:5). Jesus hammered it in even more with, "Simply let your 'Yes' be 'Yes' and your 'No,' 'No'; anything beyond this comes from the evil one." (Matthew 5:37)
I suppose this becomes even more of an issue with me because in my job I depend on those who have committed to being part of a specific event. Whether it is serving kids at a local apartment community of delivering meals to a senior citizen, if someone says they will do something, and then doesn't do it, somebody else surely suffers for it. Generally the ones who endure the fallout are the very ones who have been responsible to show up and then have to shoulder not only their commitment, but also the extra work of the one who isn't there to do their part. Oh, I'm not talking about the rare cases when something unavoidable and out of control comes up - stuff happens. I'm talking about the inclination to blow it off when the time comes to do something you've promised to do and you just don't feel like it, or something else seems more compelling at the time. After planning and coordinating hundreds of outreach events, I have witnessed over and over the fallout of unfulfilled vows. 
At the same time, and even more significant, the weakness of human character has allowed me to witness the strength of the character of God. God has yet to call me to a task that, with or without the compliance of others, He has not provided the means to accomplish. Where I am weak, He is strong. When I strive in my own strength, or even depending on the strength of others, He backs off. But when I, in total humility, admit my utter frailty and dependency, He shows up in glory and gets it done. He has proven that He is able....time and time again. It is my saving grace.
Nevertheless, we are interdependent and we need each other.  So, if you've said you would do something, please think twice before you change your mind. Chances are, someone is really depending on you to follow through. And, when you don't, you are placing your share of the load on already overburdened shoulders. 

Cloudy Days and Sunshine

It was dark and dreary when my alarm violated a vivid dream state at 6 am on this Saturday morning. But once I was up and on my way, it was well worth the aggravation and discomfort. I drove through a temporary rainfall to get to my destination at Centennial Village, where a dozen churches are collaborating to build three Habitat homes for three deserving families. The family for whom my church toils is a Katrina-displaced mom, grandmother and son. The mom cried as she tried to thank everyone for making it possible for someone from the tiny island of Grenada, by way of New Orleans, to be receiving a new home after all the suffering. And I'm reminded that God doesn't call us to a life free of pain. How in the world would we ever learn to lean on Him if it were easy? And He does love it when we give it up, realizing our own weakness that bows to His strength. I am finally getting to the place where I can join Paul in appreciating the hard times. Heartache and affliction help strip away all the superficial ways I try to justify and compromise what matters to God. They draw me to the heart of a Savior who took all the filth the world could throw at him, horror far worse than I could ever begin to fathom, and bore excruciating pain for every sin I would ever commit. A million tongues could never sing enough praises to honor that sacrifice. At the Habitat site today, as a pastor prayed that every hammered nail would be a prayer, the sun broke through. That perfect gesture on God's part was certainly not lost on me.

Covered

Life is a great journey, but I sometimes fear I should be farther along the road than I am. I read my daughter's words and have to admit I swell with pride at seeing her progression as an artist. But more than that I am grateful for her astonishing maturity and beautiful spirit. I think of myself at that age and the contrast is shameful. We share the same introspection and pick-it-apart view of the world, but at 24 years old, I had so much less depth. She is grounded in her faith, in her belief system and in what she wants. I was a Christian who didn't get it, one who never opened her Bible and was thus existing in prolonged infancy. Paul addressed me as one tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by whatever came along. I look at this child of mine and see so much more. I thank God that I had partially figured things out before she came along; at least enough so that I may have had at least a small part - through my constant prayers if nothing else - in her becoming a seeker of Truth. I read her words - her poems - her prose - and I admit my envy. I used to write poetry, I used to dream of my words carrying that kind of weight, of being that profound. Now I write a blog that no one reads and compose great Christmas letters. The dreams are still there, but lack the ambition and the energy to propel them into reality. I have let life suck that zeal out of me like a slowly leaking tire and I find myself too flat to carry the load. I used to be the driven person that I see in my daughter now. And that is partly why I am her biggest cheerleader. I see her eyeing her dreams with purpose and I want to scream, "Go for it my beautiful, talented daughter!" When I read her words about castles in the sky and building stairways to them I am brought to tears by the poignancy. My staircase got sidetracked by my love of a boy who ended up betraying me, by self-preservation and by focus on the wrong things. She is too smart to seek her essence in the wrong places and so I am thankful that perhaps her DNA holds some of the good parts of me and escaped those parts that tend to seek short-lived gratification in destructive ways. I see the hand of God on this child of mine and my heart soars. Odd as it seems, she is living the life I was supposed to have, and that lovingly affirms my belief that the One who created us both is indeed the Master of second chances. The amazing grace that covers us is as comforting now as the childhood blanket - her "bah" - that my daughter wouldn't leave home without. She has exchanged that emblem of childhood security for the true Comforter. And knowing she is covered still is my greatest joy.

I will bow down toward your holy temple and will praise your name for your love and your faithfulness, for you have exalted about all things your name and your work. -Psalm 138:2

I have been pondering a recent conversation I had over lunch with a friend from church. Inevitably the topic wove its way to a critique of the worship service - the music, the order of worship, yada yada yada. I tried to be patient and understanding and not too critical of the criticizer. And I listened and responded in what I hope was a gentle way. But the exchange left me unsettled and not a little bit disturbed about the attitude so many Christians have about worship in general. Since when did it become about us? What is it that makes us think we go to church to get fed and fired up enough to survive another week until we can come back and refuel and start the weary cycle all over again? Has it never registered with some people that worship is simply and purely about God? And God doesn't care what songs we sing or the order in which we sing them or whether the choir wears robes or jeans. He's not the least bit concerned about whether we use hymnals or power point, or anything else we get ourselves so worked up over. God is more concerned about our hearts and where they are, not just during this one hour on Sunday, but also during the other 167 hours of the week. Worship is just the chance to come together corporately and lift the name of God....to love Him and let Him love on us in a group setting. But true worship has everything to do with God's enjoyment, and little to do with us. I'm no theologian, but, to me, authentic worship is letting the Spirit of God within us connect with the one who created us purely for His good pleasure. We were created to worship Him in everything we do, and it is so much more about surrender than it is about self. That's not to say that we don't derive joy from the process. Oh, we do! But that joy is more from experiencing His presence in a powerful way. It is more internalized than it is for show. We should be far more concerned about whether God is pleased with our praise than we are with ourselves.