A Prayer, and an Answer (Gen 2:18)

I clearly remember a spring day in my young adulthood, when I was standing at the clothesline behind my lovely brick apartment home, hanging out my laundry and praying God would send me just one good Christian friend. Most of my faith journey, to that point, had been just me and God. I read my Bible daily. I went to church regularly. I had a healthy prayer life. But I had no Christian friends. There was not one believer in my life with whom I felt close enough to pray, study, learn or celebrate. There was, at that time, no one close to me who didn't think I was at least a little bit crazy for putting so much hope and trust in ancient "legends."

Now, I am blessed to be positively surrounded by people of faith. Some of my old friends have become true brothers and sisters in Christ. I've met many more on the journey. I'm blessed by their encouragement and I rely on their prayers. Our conversations are richly seasoned with things not of this world. I'm pretty sure they don't think I'm crazy (or at least not ALL crazy).

Women of faith...together...the first Easter
discovering the empty tomb.

Since most of my readers are also these friends, it would be silly (and somewhat insulting) for me to try to write here about the incredible-ness of Easter. We rejoice today, together. Our joy has been more eloquently expressed in a hundreds of songs. The lessons of faith and redemption taught in dozens of sermons. My awe has been captured by authors far more talented than I, and shared in hundreds of books.

This morning, when I rose to get ready for church, I was overwhelmed with thankfulness for the community of believers who have become such an important part of my life. Easter - the resurrection of our Lord and Savior -  is the most important thing we have in common. In some cases the only thing. That's okay. It is more than enough.

I still pray for those in my life who do not know the Lord. How dark must this world seem without the hope of Easter, of life, of renewal, of a Kingdom beyond this world. These dear ones do not understand why we celebrate today with more than bunnies, eggs, and jelly-beans. So I pray that God will open their eyes, that Jesus will speak to their hearts, that the Spirit of truth will draw them near.

I pray, and I celebrate.
Because I know that prayers are answered. You, my friends, are proof of that.
Will you share your own story of answered prayer?

The Lord God said, "It is not good for man to be alone." - Genesis 2:18

Memory Lane (Prov. 3:3)

When was the last time you wandered down memory lane?
Who did you take with you? What did you talk about?

I got to wander down memory lane with a rarely-seen aunt this weekend. It was interesting, to hear my own memories retold from her perspective. 

I realized, in the sharing, the importance of one's point of view when it comes to personal history. Generally, when I'm wandering through the past, it's with a new friend, a beau, a stranger - someone I have to "fill in" on the events that made me, well, me.  I can't remember the last time I had a chat with someone (other than my darling sister) who was really there. Someone who might remember things a little differently. After all, even undisputed facts can have different facets - like a gemstone in the sun.

For example... I took 5 years off between earning my AA at a community college and finishing my BA at university. In that time I moved to a different state, and saved enough to avoid student loans for a while. While I was, certainly, enjoying the freedom of my early 20's, I always knew I'd go back to college sooner rather than later. I had decided to be a teacher before I was even in high school. She didn't realize any of that. She thought I had dropped out, and then reconsidered and discovered an interest in education. She praised me for getting my life back on track; for becoming responsible. I think she was genuinely surprised when I sorted it out for her. I'm not sure what she thinks of my story now that she realizes I've always been old and dull. It's interesting to consider, though.

Now, I'm becoming fascinated with my own history, and the idea of hearing how the other people in my life would describe the events that shaped our relationships. I love stories. I can't wait to hear the ones my family have to share with me.

I was reading about the Israelite's journey to Jericho recently. So many times Moses warned them to remember their past. To talk to the children. To make monuments, leave reminders, honor traditions, lest God's people forget where they came from. I don't know about your world, but mine is very disconnected from that kind of thinking.

I don't know my history - at least not any farther back than I can remember. But I want to learn. So I'll invite my family to wander down memory lane with me, while there's still time. 

Never let go of loyalty and faithfulness. Tie them around your neck; write them on your heart. -Proverbs 3:3

Courtesy? (Prov. 12:25)

I generally don't post when I'm "in a mood." However, this week I'm making an exception.

This post is regarding my broken leg. I won't be offended if you click off. I know it's a tedious subject. I'm bored of it myself. Deep into my 10th week of healing (75 days), and I'm still not putting weight on it or able to sleep without the boot. I haven't started PT yet. I still have no idea how much longer it will be before I can drive. In fact, I'm not sure in which of the end-of-year events on our  long-term calendar I'll actually be able to participate, come June. 

I was supposed to see the doctor today about my foot. Based on my past experience, I wasn't expecting answers to all of my questions. I was hoping for answers to some.

What I got was a rather powerful lesson in courtesy.

Sometime around noon today the doc's office called to let me know they were "rescheduling" my appointment. No reason given. So I begged someone to watch my class while I called to find out what was going on. Apparently the doc decided not to have evening hours any more. And by evening I mean anything after 4. Now, I don't mean to whine, but one of the reasons I chose this office was because they had later hours. 

Setting that aside, though, today's incident was bad business, plain and simple. He did not wake up sick this morning and have to call in. He made a plan to change his practice. Whether he put that plan in motion this morning or last month, surely someone could have noticed existing appointments and rescheduled them in a more timely fashion. After all, some of those appointments were made by people who cannot drive themselves. 

I called the clinic to express my frustration. I got the switchboard at the main office. They noted my frustration, but made no apology. I had to insist (and I hate insisting) on an appointment after 4 - with anyone at all. They "supposed" they could get me in at 4:10 tomorrow. I have rarely felt so ... ignored.

After begging no less than a dozen wonderful people who all had very legitimate previous engagements, I finally managed to find a ride. Then I re-arranged a parent-meeting I had set for tomorrow. And got permission from my boss to leave a few minutes early to make the early time. So... tomorrow. 

Tomorrow, I'll see a doctor who's going to be less-than-happy to see me after-hours to (hopefully) get at least some of my questions answered. I'll smile at an office staff who clearly can't manage their own calendars. I'll pay for service that I have to accept because I can't (realistically) transfer anywhere else at this point. I'll schedule my next appointment with my fingers crossed.

Obviously I left work in a less than lovely mood.

Thanks to the coworker who was driving today, I was able to stop at the grocery store on the way home. While she was parking the car, the courtesy clerk came, took my crutches, and hooked me up with one of those beepy-wheely-carts (my first time with one). The clerk was friendly - laughing and helping me get situated. He even offered to have someone go around with me to reach the high shelves. 

When my driver joined me, she did the reaching for me. She insisted on searching for the wine I liked. She didn't mind when we had to schooch back to the entrance side of the store because I forgot an ingredient I needed for the one dish I'm actually cooking this week. She didn't judge when I also grabbed a frozen pizza and a mini-cheesecake. It was no big deal to her to help me out. 

And I felt much better when I left, still laughing about the wine & cheesecake. The courtesy clerk and my wonderful co-worker treated me like a person. A human, with feelings and needs and desires that matter. They treated me like I mattered.

Which, is the point of this very rambling post. Whatever you are doing, please, treat people like they matter. They really do. And your courtesy could turn around their whole day.

Anxiety weighs down the heart, but a kind word cheers it up. Proverbs 12:25 (Of course 12:16 leaves me feeling a bit foolish. Sigh. Always learning).

A Makeover with a Purpose (Acts 17:27-28)

There is a great bookstore in Portland, Oregon - Powell's City of Books. If you've been to Portland, you probably know of it. It's the kind of book store you could get lost in, for days. I honestly don't think I could go to Portland without stopping in.

I love it.

I also hate it.

As a writer, seeing all those books humbles me. Who am I to think I have an original thought? Who am I to aspire to sharing a shelf with Dickens or even Dixon? Who am I, indeed?

This is the time of year when I teach my little darlings to think about an author's purpose in writing. I show them how identifying an author's purpose will help you make greater connections to the text. First, we learn that most things are written either to inform, entertain, or persuade. Then, we go a little deeper.

Let me give you an example. You are, I hope, familiar with Dr. Seuss's Lorax. This excellent book was surely written to entertain. Yet, it has a very obvious greater purpose. The author served up a potent lesson in an entertaining package. Because of this, we all remember it.



Now, I love to write. But (you may have noticed) my writings often sound a bit like rambling. There really hadn't been a purpose shaping my content here.

A gentleman I know has dedicated his life to helping people "fall in love with God's word." He blogs, speaks, teaches, and writes all to this purpose. In fact, he's got a new book coming out soon that I'm quite excited about. I had a chance to preview it, and it's great (click here for a link to the book's launch page). Any article you read on his blog will be clearly connected to his purpose. You know what to expect when you click that link.

Did you honestly have any idea what to expect when you clicked my link today?

This blog used to be called "(In)significant thoughts." I've decided to take the advice of an old friend and start valuing myself more highly than that. My thoughts are not insignificant. They're just often disorganized, and rather ordinary. Yet, somehow everything I do, everything I am comes back to my relationship with God. Because that's the foundation of my existence.

So I gave the page a makeover, and a direction. This page is just the journal of ordinary girl, living an ordinary life, trying to make sense of it all. It's not my goal to preach, just to share my journey. If you find that even a little entertaining, informative, or persuasive, then I've accomplished my purpose.


God did this so that [we] would seek Him, and perhaps reach out and find Him, though he is not far from any of us. For in Him we live and move and have our being. -Acts 17:27-28

PS: The teacher-stuff is migrating to a separate blog. I'm hoping that will help me keep my focus. If you're a teacher, or into teaching things, check out There are No Mistakes @ http://onlythelessons.blogspot.com/.