What happens if after "Going Home" you "Leave Home..."

Recently I was brought back to this old blog and was shocked at how different my life is now compared to 7 or 10 or more years ago. Of course, now it's 2022 and everyone's life has changed due to COVID and all its ripple effects. Six years ago I went back to work. After COVID working from home, everyone is talking about, and doing studies on "Return to Work" or "Return to Office" (RTW/RTO). After being sure I was to "Go Home and Tell" many years ago - a beautiful season of life - it became clear in 2015 that I was to "Leave Home and Go Back", "Return to Work". Back to work, back to the non-family mission field, back to having to worry about hair, and clothes and things that I know don't matter for eternity but unfortunately do matter in the workplace. I was very frustrated - again "my" plans had been sidetracked - didn't the Lord call me home? Didn't HE call me to pour my life into my husband, family, community, church, ministering to those around me? Why in the world would HE call me to go back into "Egypt"? Or did HE............ maybe HE is calling me to be obedient to HIS timing, HIS calling, HIS place of service, once again taking me out of my comfort zone and putting me back into a place I did not choose. In the past six plus years, I am back face-to-face with my old demons, my old fears of not being "successful", my old frustrations of inequalities, injustices, incentive tempations to push my way through. Had I not grown any in the Lord and knowledge of who HE was, who I was, how to rely totally on HIM alone? Had I not learned to trust Him and His timing and ways at all during those years when I went home to tell? On top of that, some of those precious children are now grown and have chosen to walk away from the love of Christ. Talk about feeling like a failure. Feeling like years and tears have been wasted and now I have to return back to the old dog-eat-dog-I'll-never-be-good-enough work world and face all of my fears and frustrations. Oh, ouch - "I", "me", "my" keeps ringing in my ears (and evident in those sentences above!). Was I sure that I was being called back into the work world and being obedient or was it just our financial needs (wants) of the "I" "me" "my"s? I'm not sure. At some point, though, I have learned one thing - GOD is bigger than my choices - good, bad and ugly ones. And so I trust that even if the reason I "Left Home" to go back was the wrong reason, HE knew that before I did and if I seek to be a vessel for HIM, HE will use that decision anyway. How do I know this? Well, years in to this "new" journey I see now that HE has brought across my path at work many with broken marriages, estranged children, a father whose son was murdered in mistaken identity as a drug dealer, a 52 year old wife who lost 4 children to miscarriage and then lost her love-of-her-life husband unexpectedly to an anuerysm, a 9/11 NY twin towers survivor still dealing with the guilt of surviving, two single Moms at totally different stages of life, two different Muslim women from other countries, an MK who had lost his zeal for Christ, several managers who have had very negative experiences with "church" and therefore sadly do not understand the true love of Christ and the cross, and some beautiful sweet sisters in Christ who encourage me in my wobbly walk. Someone once said even a small, quick matchlight penetrates the deepest darkness to bring light and hope. And the LIGHT OF THE WORLD has promised to be with us, no matter where we are. That's one sweet promise.

Valentine Thoughts

Here it is again.  That silly holiday that everyone agrees was pushed on us by card and flower companies, but we keep it up anyway since it is another break from the routine, and an excuse to stop and say those words that we often forget to say in the regularness of life.  But that's not my point.  I wanted to remind everyone that your husband - wife - "special friend" (my MIL's favorite term) or whatever term you use - will never make you happy.  Now before you start cyber-egging me, hear me out.  No one person can ever, ever make you happy.  No matter how amazing and great and thoughtful and kind and caring and.... they are.  I should know - I am married to one of those kind!  If you are single and looking for your "soul mate" to make you happy, I am sorry but it just ain't gonna happen.  And if you are constantly disappointed with your spouse, same thing.  Because you see at the end of the day, it is only YOU who can make yourself happy - or content - or joyful - or - - [insert favorite emotion here].  Now, this doesn't mean to make yourself an ego maniac.  That will definitely not lead to true, meaningful happiness or any other good emotion.  But what I am saying is we have a choice.  Every moment of every day.  My grandfather had a hard life, abandoned at age 6, barely being fed or clothed, and yet I never saw or heard bitterness or envy in him.  He chose to be content, to be bitter-free, to be a light in a dark world.  He chose happiness.  I know my grandmother did things to make his life better, to show her love for him, to be a true helpmate, to be a vessel of joy and contentment to be poured into their lives together.  But he still had to chose happiness.  So if you are looking for a gift, a card or flowers, or date night, or just time with your hubby to make you happy you will be disappointed.  On the other hand, if you look for joy in those things, for gratitude for what you do have, and for the bad you do not have, you will be choosing happiness no matter the circumstances.  Through our choices we can allow the peace and true happiness of Christ to takeover and take hold of every hope of happiness.  Take it from one who has spent decades doing it the wrong way, looking for happiness in all the wrong places, and who will have to reread this herself often to not forget happiness is a choice.  Happy Valentines and Happy Happiness :) !

Thanksgiving Thoughts

This Thanksgiving two of our children were in other states.  Actually a state.  Pretty far from home, but close in our hearts like many, many other families were experiencing for a multitude of reasons.  Two others were  celebrating  elsewhere and not able to come.  But this Thanksgiving also brought extended family here to us for the first time - for their first Thanksgiving from halfway around the world.  And it reminded me that each day, holiday or not, provides new opportunities for me to relate to new and old friends and family.  Instead of wishing for the time when all the children were "under foot" and we were all together (yes, every Mom's wish!), I realized that one of the blessings of grown children is that your family keeps growing in numbers.  Even if you don't have grandchildren being born, the grown ones are making new friends, getting married and adding "in-loves" to the family, connecting with new coworkers or roommates or classmates.  And it dawned on me this Thanksgiving that I am thankful for new connections.  New opportunities to pray for, and with, and about, wonderful, unique, beautifully created people that just last Thanksgiving I didn't know, or knew to a lesser extent.  What a wonderful gift.  The gift of new connections.  The gift of opportunity to share life and share heartaches and share laughter and share memories with old friends and new alike.  As a young girl scout we used to sing this song on the camp bus, "Make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold."  How very true.  But for the believer, it also has a deeper meaning.  Connection with fellow believers brings deeper ties than even the best friendship - it brings true sisterhood and brotherhood that is eternal.  It brings a shared purpose for ourselves, a shared burden for others, a shared joy in Christ, and a shared beautiful, wonderful, amazing perspective on the true meaning and value of life itself.

Thank you, Jesus Christ, for this day, for these many days, where You have added to that treasure in my heart called fellowship.  Thank you for Your Salvation, Your guidance, Your love that blossoms in that sweet temporary fellowship that is only a glimpse of the perfect fellowship to come.  Help us, O Lord and Master, to seize the opportunity to expand the fellowship in whatever way you put before us.  Help us not to get caught up in the temporary filling of our bellies with worldly things but to keep our eyes on the beauty of the eternal, so that none will be left out of the feast to come.  -Amen.

Pry Open my Heart of Stone

Some listen with their ears.
Some listen with their eyes
Please, dear Lord Jesus, teach me
To listen with my heart,
To write YOU on my soul
So that the heart I’m listening with
Is YOURS.

There is hatred in this world, 

Anger on every street.

Yelling, fighting, marching,

"I'm right!" "You're wrong" "Defeat!"

On ballfields around this nation

Two teams compete with rare a fight

But fans return to neighborhoods

Shouting politics into the night.

And quiet souls who show respect

Regardless of their stance

Are battered with words and visions of hate

Their silent respect has no chance.

For anger and hatred and marches and shouts

Get stages and photos and fame,

But those whose hearts are at peace with God

Care little how much they're defamed.

No changes how large or widespread done

Will make eternity different

So stop, my child, learn to hear the small voice

That changes a HEART that will listen.

Prayer crayon scribbles

If you’re a Mom, there are some at your house no matter how old or young your children are. Crayon scribblings. On walls, or paper, or furniture, and most of all in your memories. They are meaningless, worthless to anyone else but you know which child drew them, and when, and even the details of that time together. Why do we keep theses scribbles? Tonight I was thinking about my prayers - self-centered, broken, childish, scribbled-with-no-skill prayers. And I was overwhelmed to realize they are more precious to God than my children’s drawings. Not because I ask (draw) rightly or perfectly. Not because I am a master pray-er (artist), know the right words (colors), stay in the lines, or even make sense with my pleas and cries. But because HE loves me.  HE, the God of all, is more in love with this child than I am with my crayon coloring bundles of joy. No words can describe, no art can convey, no planet contain His love. And that love turns my scribbled mess of a prayer into something beloved.

LaoLao’s Concert

Today for several hours I listened to the most beautiful music this side of heaven. No love song by Dion and Bocelli, no piano concert by Horowitz, no guitar solo by Jimi Hendrix, no folk balad by Emmylou Harris, no country crooning by Carrie Underwood, no pop hit by Michael Jackson could ever compare to the beauty of this afternoon’s concert. The fast rhythm was a soft drumming of pattering feet across my living room floor.  The crescendo exploded at the end of each stanza with giggles.  Soft, loud, occasional and frequent bursts of “LaoLao” “I Loves You”, “Hugs”,”Up” and “Ai-ne (Chinese for I love you)  created this heavenly music that left this LaoLao (Grandma) in tears of gratitude for the music of grandchildren. Heavenly music for sure.