Remembering...

One year ago today, a tragic, horrible incident took place at a typical high school in a typical suburban town.  We hear of these shootings on the news far too often.  We grieve and shake our heads, as we wonder "Why?" and then we pray.

However, this unimaginable episode was not "just another news story" for my family.  The young woman who was shot was not just a face in the news.  Claire Davis was my cousin's daughter.  She was young, beautiful, and in love with life.  In his misery, another student's anger cost Claire her life.  It was not only heartbreaking for the Davis family, but also for his family.

December 13, 2013, will be forever etched in our minds as the day we lost a shining light.

Please continue to pray for her parents, brother, grandparents, friends, and relatives.  No school shooting will ever again be "just another" to us.

Ceremony Will Mark One Year Since Arapahoe High Shooting « CBS Denver

PLEASE HELP!

Dear readers, I have never done anything like this before.  However, the Holy Spirit is directing me to pass this information along.

The mom mentioned in this article is a dear friend of mine, who is in desperate need of help NOW.

Let us show our Christian love and the spirit of Christ by doing all we can to help them.

God bless you all!

~Joni

Help for a Friend

Posted on Dec 9, 2014 by Michelle Pendergrass in lessons | 0 comments

Update: Over 20% funded in just one hour! You guys are AMAZING!!! Let’s do this!!

Friends, I need your help. I believe in connecting people and I think I’m good at it. I wouldn’t put this out there if I doubted the legitimacy of this– I know deep in my heart that this is an intense and immediate need. I’m going to give you a short version of a long story, but enough that you’ll understand why I want to do what I can to help, which includes asking you to help me help this family. So in the spirit of this season, can we help this family with a little kindness after what they’ve been through and are still going through? (who am I kidding? I *know* we can do this!!)

My friend’s son has several disorders and in order to protect her son I’m going to be general about his medical history and I’m going to call him Joey. Joey has some issues and the family has dealt accordingly. Recently though, Joey was involved in a serious accident that might have been a suicide attempt. He had a lot of medical issues stemming from this. He is currently in long term rehab with post accident traumatic brain injury and will be hospitalized until February.

As if that’s not serious enough, the poor boy was molested (pre-accident) by a deacon in his church–who just so happened to be his godfather, and Joey’s mom thinks this is what pushed him to go off the deep end. After telling the church and the police, it was discovered this deacon/godfather was actually a registered sex offender. After a lot of time, Joey had to testify against this man. I don’t know all the details, whether or not the man was hiding his sexual offender status or what, that’s not the important part. Here’s the part I need you to help me with.

The man took a plea bargain which spares Joey a long, victim-blaming trial, and in his condition, this is really for the best. The family needs to make an 800 mile round trip to give victim impact statements to hopefully sway the judge into giving this disgusting human being a much harsher sentence.

The family needs to rent a car because they don’t have a car that will make an 800 mile trip and they don’t have a credit card, so they’ll have to put down a deposit. They need gas, food, and lodging for the whirlwind trip. They’ll leave their home, drive 400 miles, stay over, appear before the judge the next day and then head back home, hopefully with news that this man will be locked up for a really long time. I’m thinking $700 is an amount that will allow them to get this trip done and put behind them so they can focus on healing.

To donate, please click on this link, and scroll to the "Donate" link at the bottom of the article.

**some of you know this family and have been praying for “Joey,” have seen the news articles and photos of Joey in the first days after the accident, and have been cheering him on in his miraculous recovery. If you recognize this story, please keep the family’s real names silent. The molestation is something the family hasn’t talked about, understandably so, and would like to protect their son as much as possible. I’ve been given permission to tell this part of the story because it’s integral to the trip.

The Other Side of the Veil

I guess you could call this my "coming out" post, in a sense.  Because I have been struggling with something for many years, and have finally decided to go public with it all.  I am not prefacing my article this way to poke fun at anyone.  It is simply the best way I know to introduce a decision that has made a big impact on my life.  It is a controversial issue among some in the Catholic Church.  Rest assured, though, I am very sure of the path I have chosen, for I was guided there by the Holy Spirit.

Ready?

Holding your breath?

I wore a veil to Mass last Sunday, which was the first Sunday of Advent.

This is where you gasp and say to yourself, "You know, Joni had already gone pretty far off the deep end when she became Catholic.  But now?  Now she's trying to take us back to the time of women held under the tyranny of men.  Doesn't she know Vatican II liberated us from all that?  Poor, poor Joni!"

Okay, maybe that's a bit overboard.  Maybe you're just thinking, "Why in the world would she want to do that?"

I'm so glad you asked!  ;o)

For many years, I have puzzled over the passage in I Corinthians 11.  Most people who are familiar with it will recognize that reference as the "how to celebrate the Lord's Supper" passage.  Yes, it is.  But there are several verses preceding that part, which address the appropriate way for men and women to come to the table.

"I commend you because you remember me in everything and maintain the traditions even as I have delivered them to you.  But I want you to understand that the head of every man is Christ, the head of a woman is her husband, and the head of Christ is God.  Any man who prays or prophesies with his head covered dishonors his head,  but any woman who prays or prophesies with her head unveiled dishonors her head—it is the same as if her head were shaven. For if a woman will not veil herself, then she should cut off her hair; but if it is disgraceful for a woman to be shorn or shaven, let her wear a veil.  For a man ought not to cover his head, since he is the image and glory of God; but woman is the glory of man.  (For man was not made from woman, but woman from man.  Neither was man created for woman, but woman for man.)  That is why a woman ought to have a veil on her head, because of the angels. (Nevertheless, in the Lord woman is not independent of man nor man of woman;  for as woman was made from man, so man is now born of woman. And all things are from God.)  Judge for yourselves; is it proper for a woman to pray to God with her head uncovered?  Does not nature itself teach you that for a man to wear long hair is degrading to him,  but if a woman has long hair, it is her pride? For her hair is given to her for a covering.  If any one is disposed to be contentious, we recognize no other practice, nor do the churches of God."

Many will stand firm on the notion that Paul was simply reiterating a cultural practice.  It was something for that time, and not necessary to be continued in modern worship.  I always had a bit of a problem with that theory, though.  When does Paul stop being cultural in this passage?  When he begins telling them not to have divisions among themselves?  When he says the Lord's table is not a place for gluttony and drunkenness?  When he restates the words of Christ when He said it was His Body and Blood?  When he tells them to examine themselves before receiving the bread and the cup?  Where does that happen?

I am saying these things only because they were the mental struggles I faced.  I could not reconcile the premise with the actual text, or even with the way the Church lived it out.  Women wore head coverings to Mass throughout the centuries, even into the late 20th century.  (See this insightful article, taken from a book by Jackie Freppon.)  Yet today, most parishes are filled with bare-headed women.

So did I give in to "peer pressure" and just do it because other women were doing this?  Hardly.  In the time I have been Catholic (since 2007), the only places I have seen women wearing head coverings have been Latin Masses and a few, rare souls at what we call Novus Ordo (the English Mass).  In our parish, I have known only two women who wore veils:  an older woman and a beautiful, younger woman who attends daily Mass.  No woman has ever tried to convince me of the necessity of wearing a veil or the "liberation" of not wearing one.  It simply hasn't come up!

As I have studied the history of this practice though, and spent a lot of time praying about it, I have sensed very strongly that it is something I should do. Over the past 2-3 months, several things have occurred that confirmed this.  And so, I have begun.  To the question of "Why?" I would simply answer, "Because I want to walk in obedience to whatever God is speaking to me."

Was it an easy decision?  Obviously not.  Is it easy to walk in wearing this lace on my head, when, especially on Sunday, no other woman is doing this?  NO.  I feel very nervous and self-conscious.  But do I feel in my heart that I have gained a new sense of reverence as I approach the Lord's table?  Absolutely.  Do I feel that every woman should cover her head when she enters a church?  Honestly, no.  I feel this is something I have been led to do.  If other women do not feel that sense in their spirit, then I have no problem with that.

I offer you the following two articles which give even more insight on the matter.  And, as always, I welcome your questions.  I am never offended by questions!

The #Veil Project:  A Movement to Encourage 
To Veil or Not to Veil

I See...

What do people see when they encounter you?

Back to the Basics

Just a few thoughts on this beautiful fall evening:

When our family became Catholic in 2007, I felt a bit overwhelmed.  With 2,000 years of history, there is a lot to learn.  So many wonderful saints' lives to investigate.  So many writings to read.  So many documents to study.  So many amazing resources to examine.  So many incredible prayers to incorporate into my prayer life. (If you've read any of my articles at Catholic365, you can learn a bit more about this.)

In the midst of all this growing and learning, though, there are a couple of things I have discovered that I think is super, super important:

-Don't forget the basics.

    1.  Though we attend Mass almost every day, corporate prayer and worship should never be a replacement for personal times of prayer and worship.  (This is a both/and, not an either/or...)

    2.  Though I hear Scripture read every time I go to Mass, it should not be a replacement for personal times of reading and praying through Scripture.  (Again, both/and...)

When I was an R.A. in Bible college, I had a bit of advice for the girls on my hall.  I repeated it several times in the two years I served:  Don't allow daily chapel to replace your personal relationship with Christ.  So for all of us, I extend that tidbit of wisdom.  Cultivate your love and relationship with God every day.  Happy Lord's Day, everyone!

In Defense of Life and Family

In light of the current Synod on the Family,  I took the opportunity to read Humanae Vitae.  If you are unfamiliar with this document,  it was written by Pope Paul VI in 1968.  The full text can be found here.  Humanae Vitae

Keep in mind the year 1968--the time of "Free Love," the sexual revolution,  and  "Sex, Drugs, and Rock & Roll."  The cry of the day was against "the establishment" and the trend was, "whatever feels good,  do it."

Yet Pope Paul VI stood strong in the midst of the tidal wave of individualism, and reasserted the teaching of the Church, even when some voices within the Church were calling for a more "open" view to contraception,  abortion,  sex, and family life.

I was amazed by the prophetic nature of this writing.   Though written almost 50 years ago, he foretold that, if the course of things continued as they were, the government would one day decide the issue.

"It could well happen, therefore, that when people, either individually or in family or social life, experience the inherent difficulties of the divine law and are determined to avoid them, they may give into the hands of public authorities the power to intervene in the most personal and intimate responsibility of husband and wife."

And yet, he spoke to government leaders:

"And now We wish to speak to rulers of nations. To you most of all is committed the responsibility of safeguarding the common good. You can contribute so much to the preservation of morals. We beg of you, never allow the morals of your peoples to be undermined. The family is the primary unit in the state; do not tolerate any legislation which would introduce into the family those practices which are opposed to the natural law of God. For there are other ways by which a government can and should solve the population problem—that is to say by enacting laws which will assist families and by educating the people wisely so that the moral law and the freedom of the citizens are both safeguarded."

Thinking back, too, on the rapid advances in technology since that time,  we can clearly hear the Holy Spirit speaking through him:

"Everything therefore in the modern means of social communication which arouses men’s baser passions and encourages low moral standards, as well as every obscenity in the written word and every form of indecency on the stage and screen, should be condemned publicly and unanimously by all those who have at heart the advance of civilization and the safeguarding of the outstanding values of the human spirit. It is quite absurd to defend this kind of depravity in the name of art or culture or by pleading the liberty which may be allowed in this field by the public authorities."

Please join me in praying for the attendees of this synod.  For though the tidal wave has grown, God is still bigger.  God bless.

When He Calls

As you have probably detected from previous posts, our oldest son has begun his freshman year in college.  It has been quite an adjustment for our family.  But growth is not always easy, is it?  (Thus, the term "growing pains.")  Being stretched can indeed be painful.

So, with that in mind, let me share something I have learned during this time of change.  I teach private piano lessons.  We have a rule for our sons that I will not answer the cell phone during a lesson.  It's not fair to the students, or to their parents who are paying me to teach their children.  However, since eldest son has left the nest, any time I see his name on the screen, I automatically answer.  He's away from home, and needs his mom!  Thankfully, this has only happened once or twice.  He is very understanding when I say I will call him back in a few minutes, as soon as the lesson is done.  But even if I have to tell him to wait, I want him to know I'm available.

While considering this last night, I realized how often I have accused God of being a bad Father.  Not in so many words, mind you.  But I have definitely implied that feeling by my thoughts and actions.

Do any of these sound familiar?

- I was in a really tough situation, and called out to God.  He never answered.  (Or said, "No.")

- Many people were praying for this person, and they were not healed.

- This person has lived an amazing Christian life, and yet they suffer so much.

The thing is, when I hear these same protests from non-believers, I always have a ready verse or insight to remind them that God is always there, always listening, and is far wiser than we are.  "His ways are above our ways..."

Why don't I get that when it applies to me?

Let's think through this:

We say, "God is love."  And He is.

We say, "God is all-knowing (omniscient)."  And He is.

We say, "God can do anything."  And He can.

We say, "God is our Provider."  And He is.

We say, "All things work together for good for those who love the Lord."  And it's true.

We say, "Ask, and you shall receive.  Seek, and you shall find.  Knock, and the door will be opened for you."  And that is true, too.

So where is the breakdown?  God is still God.  He never changes.  What's the problem here?

I think it's a problem of perception.  After all, when our son calls and I can't talk for long, I have still heard him.  I just can't answer right away.  I don't love him less.  I don't care for him any less.

The honest truth is, all the easy "platitudes" and Scriptures I can spout off to others?  They are more than platitudes.  They are truth.

Even if I can't see the bigger picture, He still hears.  He still cares.  We are never alone.

Rest in that assurance today, my friends.

Happy Feast of John Chrysostom

Growing up in a Pentecostal church, the preaching was where it was at.  I mean, if the pastor could deliver a strong, make-you-really-think-about-your-relationship-with-God, and get-you-to-the altar sermon, then it was a good Sunday morning!  Please read NO sarcasm in this statement.  It was wonderful.  I have heard some amazing preaching in my lifetime.  It didn't have to touch the emotions, either.  If it was something that resonated inside the spirit, then it was a good sermon.

Don't get me wrong.  I have heard some very emotion-driven sermons.  They made me laugh.  They made me cry.  They moved me, Bob.  But the best sermons were ones that called me to change.  Called me into a more intimate relationship with Christ.  Called me to be more of who God made me to be.

There are very few sermons I actually remember.  But those I do remember have made a lasting impact on my life.  

One was given by an evangelist named Mike Brown.  I remember it so clearly.  I was a camper at a Kansas youth camp.  The message was entitled, "A Double Portion."  It was based on Elijah and Elisha.  When Elijah was about to be taken up to heaven, Elisha asked for a double portion of the spirit that rested on Elijah.  The invitation to us:  pray for God to give you a double portion of His Spirit.  I have never forgotten that.

Another was a sermon by my brother-in-law:  "God Is Bigger."  John preached this sermon during a time in my life when I was questioning everything God was doing.  Our family was undergoing some huge changes, and I wasn't a bit happy with God.  John reminded us all, though, that no matter what we were facing, God was bigger.  I have never forgotten that.

Just one more I want to mention in particular.  A sermon by Tim Dilena.  I don't remember the title.  I do remember the content, though.  He was preaching from Psalm 56.  Verse 8 particularly caught mt attention:  You have kept count of my tossings;   put my tears in your bottle.    Are they not in your record?  He talked about the Jewish teaching/tradition that tears were collected in a bottle, and saved for a time of mourning.  (Perhaps that the woman who anointed Jesus' feet with her tears was actually using a tear bottle.)  I was brought to a place of trust in God in which I realized that He cared about every teardrop that comes from my eyes.  Every moment of sorrow, He has "kept count of."  He cares deeply.

(I must mention here, too, that I have heard so many memorable sermons by my husband, I cannot count them all!)

Saint John Chrysostom was known by this title of "Chrysostom" due to his preaching.  He was known to have a "golden voice."  He lived about 350 A.D.  As New Advent.org states,  he "is generally considered the most prominent doctor of the Greek Church and the greatest preacher ever heard in a Christian pulpit."  Now those must have been some sermons!  He is considered greater than every preacher...ever.

One of his most famous sermons is called his paschal homily.  It is read every Easter in the Eastern Orthodox Churches.  Be prepared!

Is there anyone who is a devout lover of God? Let them enjoy this beautiful bright festival!  Is there anyone who is a grateful servant?  Let them rejoice and enter into the joy of their Lord!

Are there any weary with fasting?  Let them now receive their wages! If any have toiled from the first hour,  let them receive their due reward; If any have come after the third hour,  let him with gratitude join in the Feast! And he that arrived after the sixth hour,  let him not doubt; for he too shall sustain no loss. And if any delayed until the ninth hour,  let him not hesitate; but let him come too. And he who arrived only at the eleventh hour,  let him not be afraid by reason of his delay.

For the Lord is gracious and receives the last even as the first. He gives rest to him that comes at the eleventh hour,  as well as to him that toiled from the first. To this one He gives, and upon another He bestows. He accepts the works as He greets the endeavor. The deed He honors and the intention He commends.

Let us all enter into the joy of the Lord!  First and last alike receive your reward;  rich and poor, rejoice together! Sober and slothful, celebrate the day!

You that have kept the fast, and you that have not,  rejoice today for the Table is richly laden! Feast royally on it, the calf is a fatted one. Let no one go away hungry. Partake, all, of the cup of faith. Enjoy all the riches of His goodness!

Let no one grieve at his poverty,  for the universal kingdom has been revealed. Let no one mourn that he has fallen again and again;  for forgiveness has risen from the grave. Let no one fear death, for the Death of our Savior has set us free.
He has destroyed it by enduring it.

He destroyed Hades when He descended into it. He put it into an uproar even as it tasted of His flesh. Isaiah foretold this when he said, “You, O Hell, have been troubled by encountering Him below.”

Hell was in an uproar because it was done away with. It was in an uproar because it is mocked. It was in an uproar, for it is destroyed. It is in an uproar, for it is annihilated. It is in an uproar, for it is now made captive. Hell took a body, and discovered God.  It took earth, and encountered Heaven. It took what it saw, and was overcome by what it did not see.

O death, where is thy sting? O Hades, where is thy victory?

Christ is Risen, and you, O death, are annihilated! Christ is Risen, and the evil ones are cast down! Christ is Risen, and the angels rejoice! Christ is Risen, and life is liberated! Christ is Risen, and the tomb is emptied of its dead; for Christ having risen from the dead, is become the first-fruits of those who have fallen asleep.

To Him be Glory and Power forever and ever. Amen!

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/euangelion/2012/04/paschal-homily-of-st-john-chrysostom/

That is a soul-stirring sermon, is it not?  (Can I get an "amen!"?)

As much as I love the sermons, though, I have to admit that the greatest message ever told is repeated every time there is a Mass in the Catholic Church.  For the story of Christ's life, death, and resurrection are displayed very clearly as we hear the Gospel read, and the priest retells the story of the night before Jesus died.  We listen to the words of institution, "This is My Body.  This is My Blood."  And we remember His death until He comes again.

The greatest sermon of all (and I'm sure St. John would have agreed!) is the Holy Eucharist.

God bless you all, and have a wonderful Lord's Day!

Strength for the Day

Rhyme and Reason

When I was in high school, I went through what many would call my "teen angst" stage.  If you're unfamiliar with this term, it is generally a "girl" thing.  Back in the day (1980's), this was usually expressed in diary journals and sad, dark poetry.  For me, my poetry was a way to express myself in words which I found hard to speak.  Most of my writing was an outflow of prayers to God.  A lot of "why me" type of stuff.  Very emotional, teen girl stuff.

I have often found that I can express myself more fully in written (or typed) words.  Thus, this blog!  However, poetry is not a genre I have commonly used in my adult life.  For this post, I make an exception.

Last night, as I was unsuccessfully trying to drift off to sleep, the following words were flowing from my heart to God.  My first thought was to jump out of bed and hurriedly write it all out.  Alas, jumping out of anything at my age is not the best idea.  And at 11:30 p.m., an even worse idea!

And so, without further ado, I give you my latest, and probably not even close to the best, edition of a poem from my heart:

This Grief

This is not a grief I have known,
This grey and misty path I now trod.
It is a mystery, and not an anguish
With which I desire to commune.

I have known the grief of death,
Walking through the sorrow of losing those
Who are the aged and the ill
Is not an unfamiliar path.
I have known this grief.

I have known the grief of sudden loss,
The unexpected passing
Of one too soon lost to this earthly life.
The young, or those who left our world
Swiftly, before it seemed their time.
I have known this grief.

I have known the grief of parting,
Saying my farewells to friends
To whom I owed a great debt
For sharing their life and love.
People who have impacted me eternally.
I have known this grief.

I have known the grief of disappointment,
When trust has been broken
And confidence in relationship rendered ineffectual.
The times of longing to once again
To have assurance of another person's honesty.
I have known this grief.

I have known the grief of anxiety,
Wondering if the fears in my heart
Are somehow going to come to fruition.
Desiring to trust my God to uphold me,
Yet still doubting at times if He will.
I have known this grief.

I have known the grief of personal sin,
Seeing in myself such lamentable insufficiency,
Knowing I have failed the God I love,
And wondering if His forgiveness
Is still mine for the asking.
I have known this grief.

I have known the grief of childlessness,
The yearning to feel that fluttering
Of new life within my womb.
Craving the gift of motherhood,
Desiring to fulfill a role of my dreams.
I have known this grief.

But this new grief is one I have not known.
For the son of my longing heart became
The gift given in answer to many prayers.
This young, marvelous person,
With whom I have spent my past 18 years.
And yet...

The time has come for him to be
A man in his own right.
An adult being formed by God,
But no longer under the watchful eye
Of his mother and loving father.
This is a grief I have not known.

Lord, please teach me now,
How to keep this grief in its place,
Not causing me to question
Your ways or your methods
Of molding my beloved offspring
In the image of Your own Son.
This is a grief I must let go.

It is time for me to know this grief.
Yet is time for me to release it, too.
It is time for me to allow You
To birth him into adulthood,
And the life You have as his destiny.
This is a joy I must know.

And so, my son, I entrust you
To the care of the One who formed you.
May my brief sorrow at our parting
Blossom into the great joy
Of seeing God fulfill the plan
He has had for you from the beginning.

Copyright © 2014 Joni Johnson. All Rights Reserved.

" 'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.' 

Jeremiah 29:11

Walking Through the Stages

Yesterday, my role in life took me to a new level.  Well, I shouldn't say it "took" me.  I'm still on the way.  I can't guarantee when I will arrive, either!

After a two hour journey, we delivered our son (and a good portion of his earthly possessions) at the doors of higher education.  A few hours and many drops of sweat (and tears) later, we departed for home.

If anyone tells you they are relieved to have their son or daughter off to college, please question them further.  There will most likely be underlying issues.  At least that is my guess.

This is one of the hardest roles I have lived to date:  Mom of a college freshman.  My little boy is now in the world of adults and life decisions and all that makes for growing up.  Am I sad?  Absolutely.  I miss him so much already!  Am I proud?  Without a doubt.

Was I ready for this?  Not nearly as much as I thought I would be.  But God is faithful.  And so, the God to whom I have entrusted my son since birth, I once again entrust him, as he steps out on the next portion of his own journey.

I'm still just a Facebook message or phone call away!  :o)

Journeying With the Eyes of Faith

Photo by Neil Weaver Photography

Several years ago when I began this blog, it was all about our family's journey.  We were searching our way through to the Catholic Church, through homeschooling, and into a new phase of our lives.  Almost eight years later, I am truly amazed at the things God has done, and the multitude of lessons we have learned.

Another part of my blog has been to share some of my personal struggles and the ups and downs of dealing with panic attacks and anxiety.  Whew!  Now, that should have been a blog of its own!  Again, I stand amazed at the people God has brought into my life and the ways He has walked me through this winding, bumpy roller coaster called life!

Let me take you down a new path today.  This is a place God is leading me, and I'd like to invite you to join me.

Last Sunday, the Gospel reading for the day was from Matthew 14:22-33:

After he had fed the people, Jesus made the disciples get into a boat
and precede him to the other side,
while he dismissed the crowds. 
After doing so, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. 
When it was evening he was there alone. 
Meanwhile the boat, already a few miles offshore,
was being tossed about by the waves, for the wind was against it. 
During the fourth watch of the night,
he came toward them walking on the sea. 
When the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were terrified. 
“It is a ghost,” they said, and they cried out in fear. 
At once Jesus spoke to them, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” 
Peter said to him in reply,
“Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” 
He said, “Come.” 
Peter got out of the boat and began to walk on the water toward Jesus. 
But when he saw how strong the wind was he became frightened;
and, beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” 
Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and caught Peter,
and said to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” 
After they got into the boat, the wind died down. 
Those who were in the boat did him homage, saying,
“Truly, you are the Son of God.”

I had just finished reading Ted Dekker's first book in "The Outlaw" series, which is titled, "Water Walker."  Without giving away too much of the story line, one of the greatest moments of the book is when a young woman realizes the only way she can walk on water is to let go of all that inhibits her.  In her case, it is bitterness and a stubborn refusal to forgive.

Tonight, I finished the last pages of a wonderful series by Richard Paul Evans:  "The Walk."  The title of the last book is???  "Walking on Water."  Do you think God is trying to say something to me?  :o)

During Sunday morning's homily, our pastor, Father Joe, began by talking about our need to see God as our Father.  We so often treat God as if He is an abusive Father, instead of the loving, caring, awesome Father He is.  When it comes to the invitation to walk out on the water with Him, we focus more on the waves than we focus on the Hand outstretched to us, thinking it must be a trick.  He must want us to sink, right?  

As I was pondering these thoughts, the question came to my mind:  What is hindering me from stepping out of the boat?  And when I do step out, what is it that I focus on, instead of Christ?

"Don't be afraid to let go of your fear."

Now that seems to be a bit of an oxymoron, doesn't it?  But it's so true!  Even fear--as much as cripples a person--can be a sort of "comfort zone" in life.  It is a place we know, so it is easier than walking out onto those unknown waters in the storm of life.  In other words:  stick with what you know, so you don't have to try the new thing that might overwhelm you.  It is, in some ways, the same as a person who has become homeless.  Many times, even though this individual is given opportunities to leave the streets, move up in life, and separate themselves from their seeming circumstances of uncertainty, they choose the streets.  Why?  Because it's what they know.  Better to stick with what they know, than to face something new and unknown.

Really, though, what is there to fear?  If the One who created us is out on the water already, then it is a place of safety.  No matter what the circumstances my seem, it is the most secure place to be!  Life is an adventure, with many twists and turns.  Why walk that path alone?

Let's go walk on some water, friends.

"In the end, it is not by knowledge that we make our journeys but by hope and faith:  hope that our walk will be worthy of our steps and faith that we are going somewhere.  And only when we come to the end of our journeys do we truly understand that every step of the way we were walking on water."
                                                               ~ Richard Paul Evans, Walking on Water

Walk It Out

I have entered that time of life when the "middle ages" have a different meaning.  I have come to think that it refers less to an era of time or a time of life than it does to the middle of the body.  All the weight that was spread throughout my body all my life, has now decided to settle on the equator.  I used to be able to exercise for a couple of weeks, eat a bit healthier, and see that weight redistribute itself to its appropriate latitude and longitude!

These days, it seems that the more I walk and eat nutritious food, the more stubborn the battle is for middle ground--if you know what I mean?  Continental drift has a new definition as well!  :o)

I have noticed the same is true for things of the spiritual life.  In the past, it seemed that if I felt I was "settling" in my relationship with God, a few days of intensified reading of Scripture and a few added minutes of prayer would set things back into proper order.  The fire would rekindle, and all was well.

Lately, I have noticed the need for my effort.  Not that I am trying to "work" to please God.  I'm just noticing that additional reading and prayer are good, but not quite enough.  There is a deeper longing in my heart to return to the intimate relationship I know God wants, and a healthier lifestyle of letting Him be God in my life as He desires.

There is a spirituality called the "Ignatian Spirituality," which is worked out in "Spiritual Exercises."  As I wrote in my last post, there can be a Christian life of "coasting along in the rowboat," but progress is made by taking up the oars.  Whether I walk the way of the Ignatians or forge along another path, the important thing is to never get settled in the middle ground.

Physical fitness requires a discipline of mind, body, and eating habits.  So too, spiritual fitness requires a discipline of mind, body, spirit, and eating habits.

Let's get moving!

When He Speaks

The big day--June 17, 1989

Newly weds!  circa 1991

25 years and still in love

Got to meet Paula in person!  Yay!

For those who aren't aware, I was away on vacation during late June/early July.  My husband and I celebrated our 25th anniversary on June 17th.  Back in 1989, our honeymoon was spent in Westcliffe, CO.  My sister and her husband graciously agreed to host us at their vacation home in Westcliffe.  It was an amazing experience, as our two sons had never seen the mountains before this summer.

Seeing the mountains again (it had been 23 years for me!) was more than awe-inspiring.  It was more like renewing an old acquaintance, as while I was growing up, I had spent most of my summer vacations there.  There are too many memories to share here, for sure!  The smell of the sweet grasses, pine trees, and cool mountain air are indescribable!  My memories are of a young, red-haired, freckle-faced girl with braids and a sense of adventure.  This older version couldn't keep pace with that young girl, but I still loved every moment!

One of the best things about our vacation (which also included a family visit to Kansas, a stop to see relatives in Indiana, and family time in Michigan!), other than seeing family, was the time away from daily life.  It was a time to strengthen family bonds and be rejuvenated.  Though physically tiring in many ways, it was refreshing in so many other ways.

Sangre de Cristo mountains

I have found that these experiences help me tune in more clearly to God's voice, too.  Over the past month, God has been speaking some definite things to my heart.  They may not translate well onto the electronic page here, but bear with me.  They are certain to be more fleshed out in future posts.

- God is faithful in every way.  Time spent worrying is time spent not seeing His faithfulness.

- Provision from God often comes by the means we least expect, and almost NEVER comes when we think it should.  But always on time!

- God wants us to live in an active, vital relationship with Him.  It is not enough to coast along, trusting in Him to save us from hell.  Anyone can sit in a boat, and the tide will eventually take them somewhere.  But the one who takes up the oars will see the destination more quickly and enjoy the ride immensely more than the stationary passenger.

Focus on the Family!

- God wants to be pursued.  He wants us to take on the challenge.  Paul encouraged his readers to "run" the race, "press on" to the higher calling, "rejoice" always, "stand fast" (active immobility?!), "make our requests known", "meditate" on the good things of God (active mind!), and "share".  All action verbs!

- God wants us to live out our faith in the world.  This is not a secret religion.  This is good news!  Our lives and lips should be proclaiming Him everywhere and to every person!

If you're reading these things, and thinking, "Yep!  Those are great things.  Basic, but true," I agree.  Very basic.  Very true.  Very great.  As I said, there is more to the depth of what God is saying, but this is the gist.



But the bigger challenge is now this:  to pray it into place.  (Something else God has been speaking to my heart.)  Get it past my head, into my heart, and into my life.

More next time...

Let Me Tell You About a Man...

There once was a man, young in years, yet wise.  He married his true love, prepared to make a life for them on the fertile lands of the Midwestern Plains.  He knew the soil, the seasons, and the life, as it had been his way of living since birth.  They shared their love of tending the soil, for nurturing each other, and, most important, their love for God.  As they began their journey of wedded bliss, however, there were storm clouds on the horizon.

For in a far off country, Communism was dividing the land.  Brother was fighting against brother.  The domination of the many by the few was unveiling the realities of the ideology.  Women and children were suffering and mourning the loss of their husbands, fathers, and sons.  The leadership of our country decided it was time to step in.

And so it was, that the young man--though just beginning his new life, and not yet even 21 years of age--was called by his country to fight on the soil of a foreign land.  Along with thousands of his fellow citizens, he boarded a ship for that land across the ocean.

The man entered a world he had never known:  a world of mortar shells and land mines.  A world where one false move could cost a man his leg, his life, or the lives of many other men.  A world of bitter cold and wounded soldiers.

He spent the majority of his days in an area known as the Punch Bowl.  This was an area that had been taken by the North Koreans, but which the Americans had determined to reclaim for the South Korean people.  Before the man was assigned to the Punch Bowl, 160 men had lost their lives there, as an overzealous commander had been more concerned about his medals than the lives of his men.  It was there that the man truly entered into the horrors of war.

Every day, he would witness young children on their way to school, in the midst of this war zone.  He would load a trailer with provisions for the men on the front lines, and risk his life to assure his fellow soldiers had  provisions. One of those meal runs could have easily ended his life.  As he and his buddy stepped into the bunker with buckets of food, a blast hit the food trailer attached to his Jeep.  That trailer ended up being kicked into a canyon, now a victim of the war, too.  Pieces of the shrapnel ended up in both men, though the man would not have his share removed until over 60 years later.

He would use that same Jeep on other missions as well, as he would often carry the bodies of the same men [he had fed] to a nearby MASH unit for medical care...or to a camp where the body was placed in a bag.  The man learned that every day could truly be his last as well.

One day, while driving along a rim area of the Punch Bowl, known as Heart Break Ridge, he heard a mortar round aimed at the fuel barrels he was transporting.  Though he was not hit, he quickly shoved the barrels off the truck, to lighten the load and make himself less of a target.  On some of those same roads, he taxied an airplane mechanic to assist a downed pilot.  He also spent time concentrating on NOT driving in the ruts of the road, in order to avoid the tell-tale wires of  land mines.  Many times, his cargo was of the high-ranking leadership--a cargo which he transported to the front lines and back.

At a certain point during his service to his country, he was given the privilege of some R&R in the country of Japan.  There, the man handed a very well-worn picture of his bride to an artist, from which the painter was able to compose a beautiful likeness of the man's young wife.

Near the end of the war, the man was commissioned to take a commanding officer from a port on the eastern coast, through miles and miles of forest, to a city in northern Korea, where the Armistice Agreement was to be signed.  However, at an American checkpoint, the two men were refused entry, due to a machine-gun mount on the rear portion of the man's Jeep.  Though the man did his best to negotiate a compromise, in the end, they were turned back, resulting in a long drive back through the mountains and to the coast.

The man faced death and danger every day.  But one day would stick in his mind forever.  Another soldier had been shot by a sniper, and the man was sent to retrieve his body.  The sniper, with uncanny accuracy, had shot the soldier in the head, which caused his helmet to land several feet away.  The man knew the soldier's wife would want her husband's helmet.  To his horror, when he inspected the helmet, the name inside was his own:  Vernon Davis.  Apparently, the two men had slept side-by-side the previous  night.  When dawn broke, the deceased man had accidentally grabbed the wrong helmet.  The man knew that it could have been his head in that helmet, and his body being sent back in a bag.  Yet the man, in the compassion given him by his God, wrote the letter which would be delivered to the soldier's wife, explaining how he had died for his country.  The man wrote many such letters during his time in that foreign land, though he was personally experiencing the daily struggle with the mortality of his brothers and the battle for his own survival.

Then the day came:  the man had his discharge and would return home!  However, again, not all was picture-perfect, for the man had contracted malaria.  He would see his girl soon, but also spend some time recuperating in a veteran's hospital.

The man did not speak of the incidents of the Korean War for many years.  He would occasionally mention positive memories, but never anything in depth.  Until last week, when the man sat with his youngest daughter and a photo album, and his memories came out, bit by bit.  The time had finally come for the stories--hidden inside for over half a century--to be shared.

Yes, the man is my father.  He is a hero.  He is MY hero.

Update on May 28, 2016:  Tonight, my dad told me of leading other men down a road, as they headed for a location to shoot a mortar round toward an enemy target.  They had been warned that the road they traversed may contain land mines.  At one point, he spotted three wires protruding from the ground:  a sure sign of a land mine.  They skirted that point, continued to their destination, and successfully launched the mortar, hitting their target.  He later learned that many times, land mines were also hidden in the grass between the tire paths.  Thankfully, not this time...

Just a Misunderstanding

If there is one thing that is really hard for me (to deal with), it's being misunderstood.  Whether it is the intention of my actions, or the tone of my voice, or the look in my eyes, I want to be understood.

One of the prime examples is from the birth of our second son.  While in labor, and just minutes before he made his presence known, I was in the middle of a hard contraction.  The pressure against my lungs was immense.  I couldn't catch my breath.  I felt like I was going to pass out.  I gasped out, "I can't..."  But before I could say, "Breathe," one of the nurses rolled her eyes and said, "Oh, yes, you can."  Seriously?  I had my first son with no drugs whatsoever.  I know what natural childbirth feels like.  I wanted to scream at her, "I know what I'm going through.  I just can't BREATHE!"  But, alas, my next contraction hit, and my mind shifted to more pressing issues than straightening out the nurse.  :o)

More recently, the misunderstanding worked out in an unusual way, though.

While with my son at a campus visit, I was standing to the side while he was waiting in line for his breakfast.  A young lady was sitting nearby.  We exchanged the usual, "Hi, how are you?" type of pleasantries.  Then, suddenly, she looked right at me and said, "I know what you're thinking.  You're judging me!"  I was truly shocked.  I had no idea what she meant.  So I asked, "Judging you for what?"  Her response:  "You're thinking, 'What's wrong with this crazy girl, and why does she have some of her hair shaved off?' "  I could honestly reply, "I didn't even notice that.  What I was really thinking was that you're a pretty young lady."  And she was!  Only after she mentioned it did I notice the small area of shaved hair and the bright streak of pink in the back.  Later, as we were leaving campus, we exchanged hugs and I told her I'd be praying for her.  She definitely made an impression on me.  But not because of her hair.  The impression was that she was very self-conscious about her appearance and needed to be reminded that she was beautiful.  (That's not her in the pic.  Just a random pic.)

In pondering this, I think we often do the same thing with God.  When we're in the middle of a situation, we assume we know why God is doing what He's doing to us.  He's mad at us.  He's trying to teach us a lesson.  He's punishing us for a sin.

Honestly?

Maybe we should ask HIM what his intentions are.

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
Nor are your ways My ways,” says the Lord.
9 “For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
So are My ways higher than your ways,
And My thoughts than your thoughts."  Isaiah 55:8-9

25 Years...And More to Come!

Diploma in Hand

Yesterday afternoon, I saw a young man take one of his many steps toward independence and adulthood.  As the tassle was moved from one side of the mortarboard to the other, a giant leap was made.  High school was ended.

Nineteen years ago, I heard the most remarkable news:  we were going to have a baby!  Our first, and the child of our prayers, David has been such an amazing blessing to our lives since that first moment when we learned of his presence in my womb.

As he takes these next strides into his adult life, it is time for Mom and Dad to take some steps back.  But the prayers will always be there, son.  May God go with you, lead you, and be your ever-present Source.

Love you!

The Dark Path

Today's Scripture reading was the story of the road to Emmaus.  If you're not familiar with the story, it takes place on the day of Christ's resurrection.

"That very day two of them were going to a village named Emma′us, about seven miles from Jerusalem,  and talking with each other about all these things that had happened.  While they were talking and discussing together, Jesus himself drew near and went with them.  But their eyes were kept from recognizing him."

Two of Jesus' followers were leaving Jerusalem.  Hearts broken from seeing their Teacher crucified, they were returning home.  They were discussing it all, probably trying to sort it out.  What would they do, now that the one [they believed to be the Messiah] wad dead?  Yet, the women said He was alive.  What should they make of all this?  And then, He was there.  A man that seemed to be just another traveler.  

"And he said to them, 'What is this conversation which you are holding with each other as you walk?' And they stood still, looking sad.  Then one of them, named Cle′opas, answered him, 'Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days?' And he said to them, 'What things?' And they said to him, 'Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and rulers delivered him up to be condemned to death, and crucified him.  But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since this happened. Moreover, some women of our company amazed us. They were at the tomb early in the morning and did not find his body; and they came back saying that they had even seen a vision of angels, who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb, and found it just as the women had said; but him they did not see.'”

Who could He be, this stranger, who had not even heard of Jesus?  How could this man live in this region, yet not know of these terrible happenings?  Ah, but He did know."And he said to them, 'O foolish men, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken!  Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?'  And beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself."

Now they were even more puzzled!  This man had such wisdom.  He taught as only One other had taught.  He knew the Scriptures.  Even more, He knew the Scriptures regarding the Messiah.  He made everything so clear.  They must hear more!

"So they drew near to the village to which they were going. He appeared to be going further, but they constrained him, saying, 'Stay with us, for it is toward evening and the day is now far spent.' So he went in to stay with them.  When he was at table with them, he took the bread and blessed, and broke it, and gave it to them. And their eyes were opened and they recognized him; and he vanished out of their sight." 

They recognized Him when He broke the bread.  The only One this could be?  The One they knew to be crucified, and others now claimed to be alive.  Yes, the women were right! But He had disappeared from their sight. Now, what?

"They said to each other, 'Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the scriptures?'  And they rose that same hour and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven gathered together and those who were with them, who said, 'The Lord has risen indeed, and has appeared to Simon!'  Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he was known to them in the breaking of the bread."

The day was "far spent," and yet they returned to Jerusalem.  They walked in the dark, with burning hearts, because the message they had to share was worth it.  They could not wait until dawn.  They must make the journey.  Their news was received with joy and confirmation:  He has risen indeed!

Sometimes, we have to walk in the dark for awhile.  We have been with Jesus.  He has opened our hearts and our spiritual eyes to amazing things in the Scripture.  He has spent time imparting Himself to us.  We have a new awakening.  We must share it with others!  Yet...there is that walk in the dark.  Dare we venture out into the gathering mists of night?  Or should we wait a bit longer?  Perhaps wait for the morning light?  The darkness often shrouds the destination from our sight.

The walk in the dark is not pleasant, to be sure.  It is a time of eager anticipation of a return to light.  We have a message to share, you know.  This darkness is an obstacle that we would wish away if we could.  But it is necessary.

Are you walking in a dark time of life?  Does it seem God has put you on a path you do not desire?  Walk through the darkness, my friend.  Let God lead you by the hand to the place He chooses.

For at the end you will know, in an even deeper way:  He has risen indeed!  

*For "the rest of the story," read Luke 24, beginning with verse 36.  I think you'll agree:  the trip through the dark was worth it for them!