The Snowflake Project

"I wish there was some way I could help."

"If only there was something I could do."

If you're like me, you are feeling the ache of wanting to help the parents, school and community of Newtown.  How can one person, thousands of miles away, reach across the void to help a community in mourning?

A good friend of mine directed me to a project that is underway, called "The Snowflake Project."  The Snowflake Project is for students and staff of Sandy Hook Elementary School who will be returning to school after Christmas Break.  The idea is that people from across the country, create a snowflake and mail it to Connecticut.  Members of the school and the PTA will hang the snowflakes in the hallways of the school where the children will be returning.

The hope is for students to enter a winter-wonderland, filled with a cheerful, happy, sparkly environment.

PTA leaders are requesting NO WORDS be written on the snowflakes.  Instead, they do ask that a prayer be prayed before sending off each snowflake to the community of Sandy Hook Elementary School.  The overwhelming comfort of a roomful of snowflakes- each one representing a prayerful heart- will help the healing process of the families affected by this tragedy.

This is a simple way to do something that will calm the fear, anticipation and nerves of the staff and students returning to school.

Getting involved in the Snowflake Project is a tanglible way for parents and children to process our thoughts and direct our energy and frustration in a positive direction.

After denial, the second stage of grief is anger.  I felt as if all day Friday and through most of the weekend, our Nation sat in the stage of disbelief that this tragedy has happened.  Early this week, our Nation took a shift from sorrow and disbelief to outrage and an intense desire to blame someone or something.  We want to be angry at someone.  Unfortunately, there is no one to blame.  Our frustration of not being able to blame, forces us to have pent-up anxiety.  The Snowflake Project provides a positive, productive way for us to heal and help children and adults most closely affected by this tragedy.

Join me in Newtown's vision to blanket the school in snowflakes and prayers.  All snowflakes need to be received by January 9th.  Mail your snowflake to the following address:

The Snowflake Project

c/o Bonny Marsicano

22 Pine Tree Hill Road

Newtown, CT 06470

My church will be collecting snowflakes to be mailed off to Connecticut if you would rather not hassle with mailing a snowflake individually.  Visit my church's webiste at www.ccfclovis.com for more details about where and when to drop off the snowflakes.

The community of Newtown is hoping to receive 500 snowflakes.  I think they will be surprised at the outpouring of love and support that will come from all over the world.  Let us get out of our sadness and do something productive for the hurting community of Newtown.

Talk With Your Children

As our nation reels with the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School, I am forced as a mother to decide how to discuss the situation with my own children.  Here are some tips to help parents talk with your children.

1. Find a quiet time to talk with your child(ren).  We live in a technological world.  If we do not approach the topic, your child will most likely hear about it via friends or media.  I would rather be the source for my child’s information.  We are guardians of our children and need to guard what kind of information is going in.  I talked with my son this morning after his sisters had left for school.  He hadn’t heard anything as of yet.  I debated just for a minute about whether to discuss it or not.  I decided he would be going to school within 20 minutes and would most likely hear about it eventually.  So I took the plunge of discussion with my 10 year old.
2. Ask what your child knows about the tragedy.  Do not jump right in with details.  As with all situations, decipher what your child already knows.  Excessive details are not always necessary.  The age and individual sensitivity of your child needs to also play a factor as to how much and what information you choose to disclose.
3. Listen and correct the facts gently.  Hear your child and gently correct any inaccurate information.  As children talk amongst themselves, the story may change.  Keeping facts accurate is important.  We want our children to recognize parents as a source of truth and safety. 
4. Be general.  Do not go into the grim details of the tragedy.  Children have very active imaginations and do not need our help to add to any fear.  Our conversations with our children should be remarkably different from that with our peers and other adults.  (If you, as a parent, are having a difficult time with this situation, talk with a friend or respected adult before speaking with your children.  Our children are sensitive and can pick up on our fears and worry.)
5. Let your children ask questions.  Don’t be afraid to let your child ask questions.  It is okay to not know the answers. 
6. Differentiate your conversation.  Every child is different and reacts differently to situations.  Parents know our children best.  When talking with your child, take into consideration their age as well as their sensitivity to difficult situations.  Tread lightly and be cautious.  What may be important to you, as an adult, may cause undue worry to a child.  Your conversation with a teenager should be different than one with an early elementary student.
7. Give your child hope.  I read a quote from Mr. Rogers that encourages parents to help their children "look for the helpers.  You will always find people who are helping" when faced with a tragedy.  Looking at the situation at Sandy Hook, it is clear that this is a community filled with goodness and love.  Help your child see the overwhelming goodness in our world despite the presence of evil.  Teachers sacrificing their lives, police ready to save lives, nurses ready to assist.  We have good people around us.
8. Turn off the TV.  I know we want to stay up with the news, but remember a picture is worth a thousand words.  Unless you are willing to have a very long conversation with your child and explain everything their little minds tried to process, I would recommend not having the news on at all.  Listen to the radio, check updates on yahoo or on the internet.  Visuals are powerful and can send a message of fear.
9. Get involved.  Your child may want to respond to the situation.  Allow your child to write a card, send a note, light a candle, say a prayer….anything really.  Children are creative and if you allow them, they may help you through your feelings of grief through their acts of kindness and love.  Look for reliable sources offering ways for your child (and yourself) to respond and help people who have been hurt in this tragedy.  Red Cross or local churches may have options set-up.
10. Be there.  Be near your child the next few weeks.  Ask your teenager, “Are you okay?  Do you want to talk?” Ask your elementary child, “How was school?  How are you?  Do you want to talk about anything?”  Show your child that you are available and ready for them.  If they say no, let your presence be comforting.

I hope these tips can help you and your family through this very sad time in our nation.  Continue to pray for the families that lost their babies.

“Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name,

Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread. 

And forgive us our debts as we have forgiven our debtors.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the Kingdom and the power and the glory of heaven.  Amen.

Historical Dislocation & Pumpkin Pies

With pumpkin pies still cooking in the oven and my family asleep upstairs, I am forced to endure the silence of the night.  I have come to love this time of night, when sounds are still and noises cease.  I can let my thoughts out and stretch.  It is within this "stretching," however that I wrestle with unformulated ideas and opinions.

It was during my mixing and measuring of my pies that I began thinking about life.  My pumpkin pie recipe comes from my sweet Grandmother (Nana) whom I continue to (and will forever) miss so dearly.  It is funny how a person's memory can live on in so many forms- even here, I remember her in my pie recipe.  I find myself so fortunate to have memories living on around me.  These thoughts lead me to wonder about other people not so fortunate.

I am currently reading a book by Henri Nouwen called, "The Wounded Healer."  The premise of the book is how ministers of the Gospel are going to need to adapt our message to be relevant to the changing culture.  The fascinating part of the book is that it was written in 1972.  The "recent studies" he highlights come from studies from the 60's.  It is remarkable at the near-pinpointed accuracy Nouwen has formulating our current culture.

Nouwen calls humanity in the future (us of today) a "Nuclear Man."  This term is dual in meaning.  He uses this term first because he foresees humanity as becoming very introverted and isolated.  While a person may indeed seem sociable and friendly, in reality, many are disassociated with true friendships and even family.  Secondly, man living in our present age are post-Nuclear.  We all live with the knowledge that Nuclear threat (though we do not like to think or talk about it) is real and could end life as we know it in a wink of an eye.  Perhaps life in 2012 is not quite as nuclear-fanatic as life in the early 1970's, however we still live knowing the frailty of humanity against such great evils.

The one element of Nuclear Man that I began thinking about while making my Nana's pumpkin pies is the lack of many in our culture to relate to the past.  Nouwen calls this "Historical Dislocation."  Because Nuclear Man is afraid of imminent doom, we (not knowingly) have detached ourselves from history, both past and present.  This disconnect can be seen in young adults not interested in having children "How could I bring a life into our evil world?," or in lack of parenting because "what difference does it really matter."  Or, "Why work towards a career since no one really knows how long life will last?"

I read this chapter about a month ago and have been chewing on this notion of detachment from history.  The ramifications of remaining isolated, set apart from the whole of creation is staggering.  If we do not see our lives in the framework of history, I fear we also loose hope.  As a Christian, so much of my hope is future oriented.  Of course, God is my present help in time of need, but so much of the promises of God we have yet to see or experience.  I would much rather live a life knowing I have worked with God to bring His Kingdom a step closer in my lifetime, than remain a sad, isolated life apart from history.  My little 80, 90-year-life is just a bleep in history, yes- BUT within my little "bleep" have a learned & taught those around me a little more than what we know before?  Has my influence been helpful or destructive to the whole of humanity?  Life is a MUCH bigger picture than we really understand if we cannot stand back and see our lives in the scope of history (past and present).

So I wonder, can a Christian be exempt from History?  How can we proclaim the Gospel and feel like our past and future is irrelevant?  I think about the many relatives and friends who have gone before me, paving my way for what freedoms and experiences I have today.  Almost like a tree that is continually branching out, if my branch decided to separate itself from the trunk, what future can my branch possibly have?

Oops!  My pies just peeped.  Time to pull them out and go to bed!

So maybe my thoughts are getting way too out there for you (I get deeper the later the evening goes!).  Or perhaps I've got you thinking too.  Are you connecting with your past?  Are you investing in your future?  Or are you living disassociated from your past and isolated from your future?  Interesting questions to ponder...lots of formulating yet to do!

Operation Christmas Child

"But it doesn't fit."

"Can we use a bigger box?"

"Can we send two boxes to one child?"

"What if the batteries wear out?"

"What will he do if the pencil breaks?"

These were a few of the questions I had to tackle at our recent outing to Target.  

Our church is collecting shoe boxes (through Operation Christmas Child) for children living in poverty around the world.  All three of my children jumped with delight at the opportunity to create a special little box for a child across the globe.

Decision #1: Girl or Boy?

Quickly enough, my girls chose to make a box for a girl, and my boy decided to create a box for a boy.  What a surprise (wink, wink).

Decision #2: What Age?

In years past, my children have tended to choose the age similar to their current age.  Surprisingly, this year, all three elected for the youngest age, 2-4 year old.

I wonder why they all chose the youngest age.  Perhaps because many of their cousins are younger?  Possibly because all my children volunteer at church with young children?  Or maybe because their favorite Christmas memories are found during their most early years of life.  Whatever the possibility, we were now on an adventure through Target to fill three boxes for three young children.

Decision #3: What to put into the box?

Perhaps the hardest part, indeed, was limiting my children to the tiny little boxes.  

"A shoe box never looked so small," my twelve-year-old daughter commented.

My girls (12 & 14) got busy finding tiny dolls, blankets, crayons & hair clips for their little girls.

My son (10), however, was stumped. He quickly had the realization that most the items he would personally enjoy, or that a young boy would want, were too big to fit in a shoe box.  He racked his brain with ideas until he surrendered and instead found me with his empty box.

"I just don't know, Mom.  None of the toys that I think he might like fit into the box.  Do you have any ideas?"
"What have you tried?" I questioned.
"A light saber, legos, a soccer ball, dump truck, stuff like that."
"Ok, those are good ideas.  Now I want you to think.  If you were a three-year-old boy living in a place where you had few toys, very little food and not much shelter and this was your only Christmas present, what would you hope to find in this box?"

Micah's eyes looked away in thought.  I could see him putting himself into the shoes of another person and asking himself that question.  After a few short seconds he turned back toward me and responded, "A teddy bear."

"Good idea."

We maneuvered around children throwing fits in the isles until we reached the plush animal section.  Micah locked eyes on a soft teddy bear who fit perfectly inside his box.  With lovingkindness, my tough, strong boy gently kissed the bear on its head and laid it in his shoe box.  Micah sent away more than just a shoe box.  His sent his love to an unknown child he would probably never meet.  It was like he experienced the "Grinch" phenomenon of having his heart grow in size.

Isaiah 54:2 reads, "Enlarge the place of your tent; stretch out the curtains of your dwellings, spare not; lengthen your cords."  When I read a verse like that, I have to question if it is mearly literal, or perhaps is illustrating a deeper meaning.  I believe that Micah had his tent (heart) expanded that day in Target and I pray we continue to give God permission to stretch our hearts to hold more love.  I pray we never settle with feeling "full," but instead use our feeling of satisfaction as a clue that it is time to stretch (though not always comfortable).

My family left Target that afternoon with excitement to watch our boxes travel to a child in need.  With great expectation we wait for an e-mail to tell us where our boxes arrived.  In the meantime, we will pray for the thousands of boxes being delivered and pray for salvation to come to villagers who have not yet encountered a Living God who loves each and every one of us so very much and gives us peace and hope even in the most dire of circumstances. 

I can also relish in the light of watching my children step inside someone else's "shoes."

We have so much to be thankful for as the holiday season approaches.  I pray we have the courage to trust God to expand our hearts and fill us with a greater abundance of love. 

Be sure to watch for opportunities to bring joy, peace and salvation to people in your path.  The blessing of giving to others far exceeds the temporary joy of receiving.

"For God so loved the world (that's the whole entirety of the world folks!) that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.  For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him."  John 3:16-17

That's what I call, Good News!

Unproductive Quiet

I decided to throw them away!

I have four nice, mature violets who never bloom! Yes, the leaves are lovely but pale in comparison to the dark purple flowers I could be enjoying.  Being the plant lover that I am, I did not immediately come to this conclusion.  My goal was for my family and friends to enjoy the plants downstairs.  However, being that my house faces east/west, it is impossible to put the plants in the south window I had always heard violets enjoy. 

"How finicky can a violet really be to know the different rays of sun from alternating directions?"

I had changed their location downstairs, switched up the moisture for the soil and even added some violet food- all amounting to still no blossoms.  In the back of my head (you know, that place where God speaks to us!) I knew I had to eventually try my one-and-only south facing window before I toss out my plants.

In my house, if a plant is not performing- it's out.  I don't have time for mediocrity.  I expect excellence.

Four week ago I hid my four violets upstairs in my south facing window in my bathroom. In one respect I was sad because if these little stinkers did not perk up and perform, I was going to have to say goodbye to good friends whom I have watered and talked with for years (yes, I talk to my plants).  Conversely, if they did bloom- no one could enjoy them but me!  What is the purpose of that?

Low and behold, within DAYS of my move, small buds began to unfold from the middle of the plants.  A week later I had a few purple blossoms on each of my four plants.  With a little more water and a little more time, my plants are booming with an array of flowers!

As I sit and reflect on my finicky plants I am reminded of the verse in John 15:4,

"Abide in Me, and I in you."

Do you ever have a season in your life where opening the Bible is work? I know I go through times when I open the Word of God and life flows from the pages. Other times, the Bible feels silent and removed.

It is in those times when I put my Bible aside and simply sit before my Father.  I have nothing to say and I have nothing to bring.  I do not bring a long list of demands (prayer requests) or my pencils for studing, I come empty-handed to soak in His presence.  My thoughts are quiet.  My mood reflective.


With three budding Christians in my house I teach them different ways to commune with God. I have encouraged them to try the, "be quiet and sit" technique, but often wondered if I'm incredibly off my rocker.  All I know is that I have indeed been supported, given peace and grown in my times of "unproductive quiet."  While my analytical side tells me I am waisting my time and will have nothing to show for my senseless act, I wonder how much of my spiritual growth has occured not in study, but in silence; not in talking, but in solitude.

My plants simply sit in the sun.  Not just any sun, the south-facing sun.  Even if all we can do sometimes is sit before our Father, I am conviced (thanks to my violets) that God is still at work within us.

Though no one else can see my beautiful purple violets, they stay in my bathroom as a daily reminder of God's incredible creation and abounding love for me. 

That's Not Fair

On Sunday we taught about the story of Esther.  Here was a woman of God who served her Lord in all she said and did.  Yet, things happened in her life that were “not fair.”  Our main point on Sunday was that God wants us to trust Him even when life is “not fair.” 

Four-times a year I encounter the absolute worst part of my job- recruiting time.  I send e-mails to parents and friends.  I challenge and encourage parents to take an active role in the spiritual development of their children.  I request help from parents, friends and grandparents.

This is also the time when I feel the most alone.  People do not respond back or even send me the courtesy of an e-mail letting me know they cannot help.  Some parents actually avoid me on Sunday mornings.  I am like the plague during this month of my life, four times a year.  And while I know it just comes with the territory and I should not take it personally, I can’t help but be sad. 

I wonder how other people would feel to have their job treated like an optional recreational activity that fits into life only when there is time.  I have sacrificed so much, given up so much of my time, energy and resources…only to feel alone.

I have a few people who give me strength and encouragement, but this load is even beginning to wear on them too.

As I stare at my fall schedule praying for a miracle and realizing I will once again be teaching every Sunday this quarter, I hear myself whisper, “that’s not fair.”

The phrase vibrates through me.  Where have I recently heard that phrase?

That’s not fair.

God’s quiet voice sweeps through the room, “Connie, trust me…even when life is not fair.” 

I can follow His lead physically, but emotionally this is going to be hard.

Some people play sports and experience being pushed to the extreme.  The physical realities of an athlete parallel the horribly painful walk of a Christ-follower.  I am a Christian and am pushed everyday.  Rain or shine, God does not relent to push me.  

This may indeed be a “not fair” situation, but God calls me to stand tall and walk in places where there is sometimes no justice.  I must live a life of trusting God knowing He knows the bigger picture.  Children are the small of society. 

God calls me to teach the small, love the weak and trust Him

...whether I feel like it or not,

...whether I have the energy or not,

...whether parents care or not.

There is a young life on the receiving end, hoping to encounter the Living God.  

“He has shown me, O man,

what is good and what the Lord requires of me.

 But to act justly, and to love mercy

and to walk humbly with my God.”  Micah 6:8

Life Is Worth It

Sometimes life hands us tough choices that we would rather not deal with, but are forced to tackled head-on.  Some decisions I have not yet encountered in life but think I already know how I would respond in that situation.  Even worse, sometimes I watch others make decisions and wonder why in the world they would have chosen that. (Judging at it's worst).  It isn't until I am faced with the same (or similar) situation that I begin to understand where people may be coming from...

My childhood days were filled with animals.  My many pets taught me a lot about life and love.  They also, unfortunately, taught me about death.  I have continued my teaching of death through pets to my kids. I've even told parents, "Every child needs a pet to love so that they can experience death."  (What a morbid way of looking at life!)  We had the misfortune a little over a year ago to put down our cat of 9 years due to a mysterious broken hip, among many other sad losses.

 

Yesterday my daughter called me crying,

"Mom! Come home quick! Something is wrong with Milo!" For those of you who do not know my amazing story of how we got our cat...basically God told me what to look for and where to find him (believe it or not).  I ran out of my office and hurried home to find my three children surrounding our injured Milo.  After a trip to the Vet it was determined that he suffered from a hip fracture.  His only hope was a hip surgery.

It was against all my principles to put hundreds of dollars toward a cat- even one as remarkable as Milo.

We took our broken kitty home to make a decision- life or death. My daughter and I cried on the way home knowing, without words, what our answer would have to be.

All through the afternoon I rationalized why the best choice would be to put my young cat down.  "It's a lot of money."  "That money could be spent on braces for my kids."  "That money was being saved for a mission trip to Mexico."  "He's a cat! Are we supposed to spend money on pets?"

Round and round I went.

Just when I thought I knew rationally what the correct answer was, my house would flood me with reminders of Milo: fur on my wood floors, a kitty door leading outside, the orange statue that looks just like him, my garden filled with holes where he likes to dig, the water bucket he drinks out of, the dog food he steals away from my dog, the scratches on the furniture, the picture of my son holding him as a baby kitten in the hallway, the chair he always lounges in, a kitty toy on the floor...

Sometimes I rely too heavy on logic.

What a shock to have my husband come home and question the possibility of surgery instead of putting Milo to sleep. I realized I had never considered saving my kitty. I have it in my messed up intellectual head that when a pet has an accident I simply say goodbye to the pet and not spend any extra money.

My husband had a different view: Milo is just over a year.  He's a healthy, strong cat.  The surgery is routine with amazing recovery.  This was all very odd since my husband is constantly complaining about the cat hair and annoyed at the claw marks on the furniture. Yet here he stands having more compassion on our beloved pet than I have!

What is wrong with me?

It was in that moment of conversation that I realized my thinking was messed up. "Oh well, another cat gone" was my quick response to a critical decision.  Of course there are times (and will be times) when the right decision is to put an animal down, but I had honestly never even considered saving him!

Well, to make a long story short, we decided to save him. 

It still rattles my mind that we are spending money on a cat! But then I think of the example I am setting: sometimes we need to fight for what we love even if it's hard and not give in to failure so quickly.  I find myself excited, but embarrassed that we are doing surgery on our kitty. 

My three kids have given me their birthday Target Gift cards to help with soaps & shampoos, they organized the recycling to get turned in, they volunteered to use their old backpacks for school this year and even did some chores around the house without even being asked!

Through this decision my children learned that while it is a lot of money...

Sometimes life is worth it! 

I Remain in You

It takes a lot to knock me down. I tend to be enough of a fighter that when someone pushes, I push back harder. I don't give in very easily.

I am also someone who is not quick to say that anytime something goes wrong, I must be under some kind of spiritual attack.

Funny how we often make these blanket statements just to have them blow up in our faces.  Unfortunately, I am quickly discovering my weak spot.  It's not a "thorn in the flesh" kind of weakness like Paul talks of nor is it a daily struggle with a sin issue or anythng like that.  No...it feels more like someone has broken my crutch that I have been relying on for strength.  Until I can figure out a different way to move- I am stuck!

Since mid-May my voice has been growing steadily weaker.  It is not gone completely, but I cannot speak very loudly, I cannot project, and worst of all...I cannot sing.  Now if you're someone who does not live and breathe worship you will not understand anything else I am about to say.

When my world is in scrambles- I turn to God in worship.  When my heart is heavy- I turn to God in worship.  When my spirit wants to rejoice - I turn to God in worship.  When my life feels like it is spinning too fast and I a loosing sight of my Father - I worship.  I don't play the piano or the guitar like some glamorous worship leader or famed musician.  My goal has never been to be musically astute.  My only goal is to use the gift of music God has given me to reach Him through worship.
 
This week has been Vacation Bible School.  Have I been able to lead the children?  Barely.  I wonder if they can even hear or understand what I'm saying.  It is so frustrating to be unable to communicate the message of God with these young people who have come and are ready to be challenged and grow!  I am encouraged by the children that have come.  I love seeing our amazing youth minister and play with the children.  I am blessed by the adults who are giving their time and energy to touch young lives.  But it breaks my heart that I cannot participate.  I can barely talk with guests bringing their children.  I can hardly speak with my precious volunteers.  And worst, with my heart so very heavy...I can't even cry in worship to God!  (Oh, don't worry, I've done a lot of crying...but I want to sing!!!)

Ugg...it is so very frustrating!

I was playing my guitar earlier today and couldn't help by whisper this song, "I Remain in You."  It's one of those songs I lean on when the going gets tough.  Satan may have broken my crutch, I may feel like I can't reach my Father through worship, I even may feel like I'm alone, but I will always remain in Him.  It's a great song.      

"How do I seek Your face when my flesh needs Your hands,
What must I do Oh Lord there's a need to understand.
I vow to sing though it feels You have slayed me with Your ways,
Let my grief be worship and still say, "Bless Your Holy Name."

I remain in You
I remain in You
Wherever I go, Lord, and whatever I do
I will remain in You."

Satan can take my voice so I cannot sing, cut off my fingers so I cannot play...but he will never have my worship. 

Bless the Name of the Lord.

Trust in Jesus

"Never will I leave you, nor forsake you."

I was awoken at 4:40 by my husband with the words, "We have a problem, Anna is in the bathroom and not responding."

I jumped out of bed, ran to the bathroom to find my 14-year-old completely comatose, chalky-white and unresponsive.  After a few seconds of rubbing her hand, rubbing her cheeks and calling her name, Anna came back to us.  She cried and was frightened.  Once she was calmed down I asked how long she had been in here.

"I woke up with my stomach hurting a lot, then came into the bathroom.  The pain was so bad, all I could do was pray.  That's the last thing I remember."

The words still ring in my ear.  Anna's last conscious choice before she passed out was to pray to her Savior.  It gives me great comfort to know that while Bret & I were sleeping, Anna was not alone.

In a world so full of unexpected pain and fear, I am encouraged by Anna's faith and trust in Jesus Christ.  With still no answers, our biggest weapon is to pray.

Dear God, give us wisdom, protect my daughter, hold her close and don't let her go...thank you for never leaving her.

The Courage of Friendship

I find myself, for some reason, in a somber mood tonight.

The idea of friendship is strange.  For a period of time, we are given friends whose lives run parallel with ours.  Although I am not arguing that friends are a gift from God, I am, however, fully aware that friends have a tendency to bring me pain.  I know I am not the only one who feels this ache with friends; many of you know exactly what I'm talking about.  With each "new" friend I make, I cautiously maintain my distance in the hope that perhaps I can avoid the pain that so often comes from allowing friends too close.  If my wall is up too long though, we cannot become very close friends because I am not allowing the new person in my life to know the real Connie.  Many people, unfortunately, know me by my wall.  But to take the wall down and be 100% me is a very scary idea!  I can handle someone not liking my wall, but to disagree or not like me personally is an entirely different ballgame.

I remember a sermon I heard years ago about pain and joy.  The preacher (my father if you must know) used the analogy of a hose as representing our ability to experience pain and joy.  Like so many Kingdom lessons, there are two sides to this coin.  To the extent that I experience joy, so too will I experience pain.  To purposely limit my pain then is to limit the extent of my joy.  If I turn my "pain hose" on so low or off as to limit my painful experiences, so too have a constrained how much joy I will experience.  So many of us want the joy, but do not want to experience the pain that (unfortunately on this side of heaven) follows that joy.

Perhaps that is a melancholy way to look at friends.  I love the friends in my life but I find I am hypersensitive, waiting for when (not if) the person will head a different direction.  My friends may move away or make a decision to change circles so our paths no longer cross.  God help me not be angry at my friends, but appreciate the times of dialogue and growing we had together when our lives did run side-by-side.  I guess in a sad way the ache I feel when I miss friends is in direct proportion to how much I really did love them.

At 36 I know that is part of life.  While I would rather run away from all my friends and shield my heart to love, I know Christ has called me to do just the opposite.  I must love despite what the future holds.  I need to be in the present and enjoy conversations now.  I tend to hold back my true self until I know I am absolutely safe.  This, of course, takes years for me to establish when a relationship is deemed "safe" and, unfortunately, my friendships tend to expire at just the moment when our conversation is beginning to get interesting. 

I am amazed at the relational courage of Christ who knowing full-well His disciples, His closest friends, were going to betray Him (one even turn Him in), still showed them "the full extent of His love."  I want a love like that.  A love that can love those around me without my personal restraints or conditions.  I desire to be a friend who can love in the moment without a promise of tomorrow or another cup of coffee.  A friend is explicitly unable to promise to be in my life forever.  Life is change. 

God help me be grateful for my friends in the past, to love my friends in the present, and walk with courage into the unknown pain of tomorrow. 

Basking in the Moonlight

Have you ever sat and stared at the moon? It is really quite exceptional. Tonight especially it seems extra-full, like it is calling to me. With a espresso frappucino way too late in the afternoon and a full moon overhead, I am once again a prisoner to my thoughts.

Tonight I dare say the moon looks strange. It presently looks like I have a spotlight shinning in my backyard. I walked outside just for fun to see how visible the night appeared. Typing in the light of the moon is a strange concept, but a fun thing to do.

What I find so interesting about the moon is that the moon itself does not glow. From where I sit it lights up everything around me like someone from heaven is shinning a flashlight down at me.  "Hello" I dare say quietly back, as to not terrify my neighbors. How can something in the sky and so far away be that brilliant, and yet not actually shine?  The moon reflects the sun, it has no light of its own. How very peculiar that in the middle of the night, the time when our world is shrouded with darkness, the moon offers me a small reflection of the gloriousness of the sun that I cannot currently see.

I have to sit and wonder in amazement at the genius behind this creation. Even in the darkest night, we are given a reminder of our ever-burning sun and greeted with the expectancy and promise of a new day.

The greys of the night around me remind me of C.S. Lewis' writings about shadows. This life is but a shadow of things yet to come. The brilliant colors of fall, deep shades of blue skies, florescent accents of wildflowers are, in effect, like walking in moonlight compared to what is to come. So why are we here, living among the shadows? What is the purpose of it all? It is unnerving to think about the huge timeline of humanity that is laid out and realize our lives are just a small blimp of time, not even noticeable from much of a distance. So what is the point? It cannot possibly be to make a name for ourselves- that cannot be long-lasting. It can't be wealth and prosperity, since that is of no use to anyone at the end of this life.

No, I have to somehow believe that our biggest investment is going to come by how much we can advance the Kingdom of God where we live right now. How can I represent Christ where I work, where I play, where I eat, shop, exercise and do everything else? If faith, hope and love are all that will remain when all is said and done, I must from time-to-time stop and evaluate, "Am I growing in faith? Am I growing in hope? Am I growing in love?" If I am not, I must, for the sake of the Kingdom of God, realign myself with His purposes.

In a small worldview, perhaps God has called us all to be little moons? Isn't our job, after all, to reflect The Son?

Then again, how ever more glorious to know that we are not just reflecting Christ Jesus, but that He lives within us! We are "lights on a hill!" We can actually SHINE like the sun! We are not weakling, reflective moons (sorry moon, no offense)!  We were created to SHINE! 

As I bask in the light of this ever-bright moon, I am in wonder at knowing it is nothing compared to the vast brilliance of Christ shinning in us! If only we all had the courage to open up and SHINE!

"I am the Vine"

Sometimes I think it is a curse of mine that I am always thinking.  As I get farther away from my concussion, the horror of endless, useless thinking is creepy back into my everyday existence.  Oh, I'm sure some people think it is great to always be thinking and dreaming.  For me, however, I feel like my head gets so filled with thoughts, quotes, comments and ideas that I can't seem to focus on any one of them for long enough for anything to be effective (or make any sense!).

Thus said, I need to get into the habit of sitting down, writing out my thoughts and then moving on with my life...or at least moving on to the next thought.  So here is the:

Thought for the Day.

I was thinning my apricot tree two weeks ago and wondering what the spiritual implication of my task at hand might be?  I am always eager and looking for ways God speaks to me through nature.  I am a big believer in the natural speaking of the supernatural. (in simpler terms: concrete, earthly things giving us a window into spiritual truths & lessons.) What could I learn from this poor over-loaded tree?

Picking off perfectly-growing green fruit is very hard to do! I am purposely killing beautiful fruit; good fruit that has the potential to feed my family!  Why would I do such a thing?  Last year I did not thin my apricot tree.  The result: no harvest.  Oh, I had an abundance of tiny, green and orange apricots that my golden retriever enjoyed, but no fruit was good enough to bring inside and enjoy.

The analogy of me, as a Children's Ministry leader, choosing which "apricots" to take care of and nourish and which "apricots" to pluck off is a shuddering thought.  It seems cruel to make that determination if my apricots were actually children I work with and love so much.  This over-burdened fruit tree cannot possibly reflect Christ's heart to let many die for the sake of a few!  I am positive Jesus would not want me to choose my "favorite" children to nurture and let the rest die (spiritually speaking of course)! That does not align with scripture at all.

As I thinned my tree I scrolled through numerous passages of Scripture, in my mind searching for a connection.  There must be a lesson in this task!

Perhaps, if a Ministry Leader represents the tree, God is saying that one person alone cannot be expected to care for so many people, instead we need teams of people.  If too many people (apricots) are being "fed" from one source, the maturation of all the fruit involved will suffer.  Hmmm...that's a thought, but that seems a little bleak and negative.  Still, that does not quite seem right, there must be more to this load of fruit than that!

At the moment when I debated giving up my search for a connection between thinning my tree and a truth from God, John 15:5 suddenly rattled through my core, "I am the vine..."  The verse goes on, but I was caught dumb-founded by the noun 'vine!'  God does not (thankfully) say, "I am the apricot tree..." instead he says, "I am the vine!"  My blackberry vines are covered in an array of blossoms.  I have never thinned my blackberries because my vines can handle the heavy harvest.  Of course John continues to say that God does thin even the vines, but it is entire branches that are taken off due to poor harvest or disease- not a thinning due to an over-abundant harvest.  Thankfully also, God is the vine dresser, not me!  He can determine when it is time for a branch to go!

In the end, my apricot tree is thinned, and I am very glad Jesus is our vine, not a stone-fruit tree.

Ramblings

My Fridays are usually filled with some office work, errands to take care-of, and chores to complete.

Here I sit, instead, at my big bright window looking out across my soaking wet backyard as the rain continues to soak in.  My coffee cup to the left of my computer is one of my favorite mugs.  I got it at the Charles Schulz Museum (Peanuts guy, for all you uncultured folks out there).  On my mug is Lucy and Snoopy.  Lucy is telling Snoopy, "If everybody agreed with me, they'd all be right."  Classic.  It's a great mug and even better, reminds me of the special trip up north with my three precious children who are growing up way too fast.

Sitting on my lap is my enormously furry orange cat.  The same cat that Bret secretly hopes will wander away sometime and free the house of his fur.  For now, however, he is my companion for the day.  Oh, my dog is here too, but he is wet from the rain so I have confined him to his blanket in the corner.

It is hard to be productive on a beautiful rainy day like today. 

White blossoms smile at me from across my yard.  My blackberry vines are loaded with dainty white flowers ready any day to begin the transformation of turning into berries.  I see ever so small green strawberries pushing their heads out from between the quickly fading blooms.  My garden is planted, so all this rain is simply saving me the time and money of watering.  I love this season in the garden.  Everything is planted, but harvest has not yet begun.  There's a few things to do, like guide the peas and beans as they make their way up the carefully knotted web I have created for them.  I also gently lift tomato branches so they rest on supporting posts and cages.  Every so often there is a sneaky snail or a mischievous weed who may sneak into my garden to try and disrupt my peaceful spring-time growing.  As long as I'm quick to conquer those annoyances, all my growing continues.  I see sunflower sprouts, only two inches tall.  It's amazing to think those little plants will be ten feet tall soon enough.

One reason why I like gardening so much is to watch all the daily spiritual lessons I learn working in my garden.  I often wonder what season I am spiritually in.  Then my mind gets thinking about harvest and I wonder if I've ever really reaped a harvest?  Define harvest I question myself.  Is harvest monetary or people? 

I am a classic perfectionist who has at least three books uncompleted and probably a good year's worth of Sunday School curriculum, not quite ever finished enough for publication.  My thoughts turn back to my garden and I have to laugh out loud.  When the August comes to my yard, I am tired of watering and don't have the energy to pick the loads of vegetables growing so crazily!  Even in my yard...I don't follow through.  I love the designing, creating, planting, working, waiting...but not the harvesting.  You'd think that would be the best time, like the story of The Little Red Hen.  She grumbled at having to do all the work herself.  Me?  No, I like the quiet time in the yard to myself. 

Perhaps one day I'll get some motivation to finally complete one of my books or lessons or articles.  Maybe.  For now, I'll just sip my delicious coffee, feel the warmth of my kitty on my lap and watch the rain fall.

Faith, Hope and Love

"But now abide faith, hope and love, these three;

but the greatest of these is love."  1 Corinthians 13:13

Three years ago today my Nana (grandmother) passed away.  After a hard battle with Pancreatic Cancer, her frail body was placed into the hands of Jesus.  My world was turned upside-down.  What could I continue to believe?  Who was this God who says he is all-powerful and yet cannot or will not heal?  What is the point of all this and why did this happen to someone as amazing as her?  Scripture records that God will bring a long-life to those who follow His commands- wrong.  Scripture records that God will guard us and keep us - wrong again.  So many of the passages I had set to memory were frantically erased and I was left in a void of sorrow, loneliness and anger.

The first week was a blurr.  We had also lost our house two days earlier and were trying to move everything asap before the locks were changed.  I often look back at that January and wonder how I managed to survive.  I was in the middle of credential school- but everything came to a halt.  I could not operate.

I began credential school again in February and would cry during the 30 minute drive to school and then cry 30 minutes home.  In between crying and praying I had three thoughts along my journey of grief (btw, I'm still in that journey.  If you're in that journey, give yourself time and grace.) 

1.  What would my Nana believe?  I have a huge respect for my Nana and her faith in God.  She taught and lived the Bible every opportunity she could. 

"I have been crucified with Christ and it is no longer I who lives

but Christ lives in me.  And the life which I now

live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God who loves me,

and delivered himself up for me." 

What strikes me is the term, "faith in the Son of God."  I'm no scholar, but I did a little study and found out that in the original Greek, this small article "in" is more accurately translated "of."  So I live by faith of the Son of God.  We are to live as part of Jesus; operating under his faith.  We are hidden with Christ!  I live out of Jesus' faith, not my own.  Which is a good thing since at this point in my life, my faith was at an all-time low.  My Nana had great faith and even though I felt my faith was shaky, if I trusted the faith of Jesus to hold me through I would be okay.  Taking that leap of faith to believe even when I do not feel it, is what the Christian faith is all about.

2.  What would life be like without hope?  No matter the depth of my sorrow, I know deep inside that I will see my Nana again.  This is not a wishy-washy kind of hopin' and prayin', but a good strong knowing, almost more of an expectancy.  Hope is another word our English language has ruined.  Hope is so casual and almost fake.  A better definition would be to anticipate with confidence!  I am determined to hope in my Savior.

3.  If you've ever lost a loved one, you know one of the most difficult realizations is when your brain automatically kicks your verbs into past tense.  I purposely tried to keep my stories about my Nana in the present tense- but that got a bit weird.  Eventually, I had to succumb to the fact that she really was gone.  One thing I thought about was that love is an attribute of God.  Which means, love is just as alive today as it was yesterday and even better...tomorrow.  Love does not stop!  It would be an injustice to love to say, "my Nana loved me" because I guarantee she still loves me!  Just because she is not here right now to express that love, does not mean the love does not exist!  Love is eternal.  Love never ends.

My Nana Loves Me!

On this anniversary, although I am sad, I am full of hope, overflowing with faith and held up by an everlasting love my Nana and I share in the bond of Christ Jesus our Lord.

Bonhoeffer's Parents

"This kind of environment was the perfect breeding

ground for a young theologian!"

In the book I'm reading, the author describes Dietrich Bonhoeffer's parents.  It is interesting how different they were in so many ways, but how the two together formed a powerful alliance.

Karl Bonhoeffer (Dietrich's father), worked as the head of psychiatry and neurology in Berlin, Germany.  "Karl was wary of anything beyond what one might observe with one's senses or deduce from those observations.  Concerning both psychoanalysis and religion, he might be termed an agnostic.  There was a strong atmosphere in his home against fuzzy thinking..."  The children grew up knowing if they were going to say anything, it had to be something they could prove with a sustainable argument and facts.

Paula (on the other hand), Dietrich's mother, was the granddaughter, daughter and sister of men of whom gave their lives to theology or pastoring.  She filled every day with Bible reading and hymn singing.  She even taught her children the importance of a personal relationship with God (a very radical idea at the time!).  Paula instilled in her eight children her values of selflessness, expressing generosity, helping others and the serious respect for the feelings and opinions of others.

In today's age it would seem unlikely that two such opposite people/ideas would unite.  Perhaps it was odd in the 1900's as well.  What I found remarkable as I read through the chapter on Dietrich's parents was their united front.  Although they may have differing views, each spouse had an intense respect for the other.  Karl supported Paula in her upbringing of their children, and she taught their children in line with what he would be supportive.  They both desired to please the other and they both held each other in high respect and admiration.  This union brought discipline and order to the house since the children knew Dad would support Mom and vice-versa. 

This kind of dualistic environment of faith and science was the perfect breeding ground for a young theologian!  His curiosity was driven beyond empty faith into concrete study, observation and experience.  He was challenged to not only ask questions, but answer them too!

This chapter caused me to ask questions about my parenting and my marriage.  Am I creating an environment for my children to ask questions, do research and explore?  Do I respect my husband in such a way that my children see us as a team- even when we do not agree.  Hmm...lots to think about.

Psalm 90 Tradition

I have been reading a book about Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  As a child the family's New Year tradition included reciting Psalm 90.  Dietrich's mother, who was the spiritual leader in their household, always read this particular Psalm while the children watched the candles grow shorter.  After the Psalm, they sang a New Year's Eve hymn.

Psalm 90 reads~

Lord, Thou hast been our dwelling place in all generations.

Before the mountains were born,

Or Thou didst give birth to the earth and the world,

Even from everlasting to everlasting, Thou art God.

Thou dost turn man back into dust, and dost say, 'Return, O children of men.'

For a thousand years in Thy sight are like yesterday when it passes by,

Or as a watch in the night.

Thou hast swept them away like a flood, they fall asleep;

In the morning they are like grass which sprouts anew.

In the morning it flourishes and sprouts anew;

Toward evening it fades and withers away.

For we have been consumed by Thine anger,

and by Thy wrath we have been dismayed.

Thou hast placed our iniquities before Thee,

our secret sins in the light of Thy presence.

For all the days have declined in Thy fury;

we have finished our years with a sigh.

As for the days of our life, they are seventy years,

Or if due to strength, eighty years,

Yet their pride is but labor and sorrow;

for soon it is gone and we fly away.

Who understands the power of Thine anger, and Thy fury,

according to the fear that is due Thee?

So teach us to number our days,

that we may present to Thee a heart of wisdom.

Do return, O Lord; how long will it be? 

And be sorry for Thy servants.

O satisfy us in the morning with Thy lovingkindness,

That we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.

Make us glad according to the days Thou hast afflicted us

and the years we have seen evil.

Let thy works appear to Thy servants,

and Thy majesty to their children.

And let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us;

And do confirm for us the work of our hands;

Yes confirm the work of our hands."

God, as the New Year begins, let your works appear to your servants, confirm for us the work of our hands and satisfy us in the morning with your abounding lovingkindness!  Amen.