The Pigeon

It was Thursday morning and I was looking forward to the day. My boss was taking a continuing ed course so I was off work! And I had plans. The Tuesday night Women's Bible Study that I have attended for many years had just started back up after the summer break. I was excited to dig into the new study. Then, I was intending to design, shop for, and maybe even start sewing the Quiet Book that I was going to give Arrow for his 2nd birthday. I'm a homebody at heart and I don't get bored at home so the day sounded perfect to me.

I had been sitting contentedly at my computer for only a few minutes. Suddenly, I heard a very loud commotion coming from my garage. I ran out to see what was going on. There was one of my cats, Lei Lei, chasing an extremely large pigeon. The bird was cowering under my car and Lei Lei was moving in. I'm not sure how she had even managed to bring down the bird because it clearly outweighed her. Anyway, I know pigeons are sort of like rats but I don't like death much and try to save whatever I can. When the cats bring home something that is obviously mortally wounded I let them have it. I figure it's kinder that way. But this pigeon, while injured, was definitely still very much alive. I could see that each leg was banded. One leg had a red band on it and the other had a numbered band. Maybe it was a famous homing pigeon!

Thus commenced the screaming that I employ when I am trying to separate a seasoned predator from its terrified prey. The screaming was followed by plenty of running around the garage. Eventually, I managed to grab Lei Lei and threw her in the house. The pigeon was crammed in a corner by the water softener. I took a breath. I was already sweating and tired. I grabbed a trash can and a broom that I kept in the garage and attempted to "sweep" Mr. P into the can. After only a few tries I had the bird contained. Now what? I was hoping that maybe it was just stunned a little by the previous excitement so I took him up behind my shop building, found some shade, and dumped him out. I was hoping he would rest, recover, and then fly away. Instead, he took shelter under an old truck of Donny's that was parked next to the shop. No problem. Good place to rest. I retreated to the house to give him his space.

About 15 minutes later, I tromped back up to the shop. I really wanted him to be gone. He was quite a pretty bird with very expressive eyes. I didn't want him looking at me again and saying, "Come on lady! Save me! I've got things to do." However, no such luck. He was still under the truck. In fact, he hadn't moved an inch. At that point, I ascertained that he could not get off the ground. I once again got the broom and trash can. This time, though, was much more difficult. With the truck for cover he simply walked from one end to the other with me, looking like a fool, poking at him with the end of the broom. Have I mentioned that it was 100 degrees? Finally! I managed to get him out from under the truck and then into my can. I plodded back to the house and decided that I needed to transport him to the bird E.R. I spotted my old cat carrier. Perfect! Only problem was that every time I tried to dispatch him into it he flared out his wings and then he didn't fit. I didn't want to injure him further but I figured I was his only hope so I threw caution to the wind and plopped him rather roughly inside the carrier. Done!

I put in a call to Pacific Wildlife Care  http://www.pacificwildlifecare.org/  in Morro Bay and they very nicely called me back within the hour. They would be happy to take my wayward pigeon but I would have to drive him over there. I had also posted a plea on Facebook but that wasn't productive. In fact, it generated a little bit of hate mail (you know who you are). I took a 2 minute shower (100 degrees, remember) and loaded up Mr. P into the back seat of my car. I cast a longing glance at my computer and Bible, still sitting on the desk, and headed out. It took me almost an hour to get to the Pacific Wildlife Care but it was a beautiful day and a beautiful drive so I put on some praise music and just enjoyed the spontaneous trip. I delivered Mr. P to his new caretakers. I have to say that we had bonded on the drive. I talked to him and he seemed to listen. He didn't fight being caged in the cat carrier (a double insult) and I was a bit disappointed to see him go. But I was glad he was in capable hands. The people at the center told me he was just a common Rock Pigeon and wasn't famous and a search for him was not underway. By the way, did you know that the pigeon is a monogamous bird? I'm just saying, if a pigeon can do it...

I went home via Atascadero where I did manage to shop at the Goodwill and Dollar Tree for Quiet Book accessories. Having left home suddenly at noon, I arrived back home at 6:00 p.m. Oh well. If you read my last post, you know that God seems to be teaching me a little bit about making plans and flexibility.

Now you know I can't stop at a simple pigeon rescue story although I realize it was pretty engrossing and had you on the edge of your seats. ;) I honestly do ponder stuff at random times, heavy stuff even. So here is what struck me about my pigeon incident...

1.   He was just a pigeon but I saved him anyway. He was a pretty pigeon, perhaps a talented pigeon, but a pigeon none the less. He needed help and so I gave it to him, sacrificing my day for him. You see where I'm going? I'm not remarkable. I have some talents but certainly nothing extraordinary. Yet God gave His Son for me and Jesus willingly sacrificed Himself to save me. Now that's remarkable!

2.   He was injured and he needed fixing but he was salvageable. We are also injured, disabled by the effects of sin in our lives. But we are recoverable. And God Himself, His Word, and the people He places in our paths are there, waiting for us. That pigeon wasn't going to be able to fix himself. Neither can we. Maybe the pigeon realized that I was his salvation and that's why he didn't fight to get out of the carrier. Oh, I am ashamed to think about how many times I fight God's work in my life.

3.   There are always cats hiding, waiting to pounce on some unsuspecting bird. My cats are well fed, they aren't starving. They often eat what they kill but they don't have to. It's instinct and sport. Likewise, Satan lies in wait for us and when we are vulnerable or not on guard, he makes his move. He deceives us, tempts us, harasses us, and sometimes disables us.

      I Cor. 16:13-14
            Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong. Do everything in love.

      I Peter 5:8
            Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.

4.   It was a fight for me to get the cat away from the pigeon. But I was determined and not about to give up, even though it caused me to sweat (something I am hostile towards). Often, it's a fight to be extricated from the grip of whatever has ensnared us. But we are His and He never gives up!

      John 10:28-29
            I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of My Father's hand.

One last thought - once the pigeon is rehabilitated, he will be released and will once again fly free. No matter where we are in our rehab process, we are already and for always free when we belong to Jesus. Praise God!

My Week Off

So this was my vacation week. When the dentist I work for is on vacation, so are those of us who work for him. Unfortunately, I had no plans and no money for my time off. I knew if I didn't get it in gear and at least plan something, anything, I'd be crabby. Or worse. So I decided that I would try to give each of my local daughters a day - a day where they got to do what they wanted and a day that I got to spend with the grandchildren. Sounds great, right? And so unselfish of me! I am awesome! ;)

Here's how it turned out...

Day 1, Monday.

This was  to be Jenny's day. She asked me what time she could bring the kids over and I told her not before 10:00 a.m. She arrived at 10:10. She's no fool. After a brief 5 minute drop off she was out! Her four children and I started out with a reading time. We read three books from an old series about a singing songbook and family. They were books from when my girls were young and we still enjoy them.

The first book ended with the characters singing so the kids and I grabbed peacock feathers and marched around the living room, singing along with Logan's iPod. The song he chose? Puff the Magic Dragon. And yes, I still know the words. The next book we read was about one of the "booklets", Harmony, getting lost at the zoo because she was chasing a peanut. So we took a snack break and ate some peanuts. Last, we read a story about other kids being mean and how to treat those that wrong us. It ended with Psalty, the big blue singing songbook, praying with his booklet son, Rhythm, for the bullies. So...yep, the kids and I prayed together. Ahhh...........

Don't get me wrong. I'm not writing this to point out what a fabulous Grammy I am. Actually, it was more that it was a spontaneous unplanned time with the kids that was fun for all of us. I was honored to be a part of it. As you'll see, my "planned" activities later in the week weren't as successful.

After the reading session we had craft time which involved spreading hundreds of tiny foam pieces all over the dining room table, attempting to assemble them together into animals, and ending up with Dixie cups with random body parts stuck to them. Ever the glutton for punishment, I then organized a baking session. All four kids had bowls, each with their own cookie mix. Admittedly, Arrow had a little bowl with goldfish crackers in it and we occasionally tossed him a glob of cookie dough to eat, but the other three measured, cracked eggs, stirred and then carefully got their cookies on the baking sheets. The dessert was shared that night with their parents. It was a bit chaotic but again, fun times and we did at least end up with an edible finished product.

The rest of the day consisted of Arrow's nap time and a private viewing of "A Bug's Life" for the older three, swimming (30 minutes of changing everybody's clothes and applying sunscreen followed by 10 minutes of water play in cold windy conditions followed by another 30 minutes of getting everyone dried off and changed again), and finally, throwing rocks over the hillside while we watched for Jenny and Zac to come rescue me. All in all, a good first day. The kids and I had a lot of fun, Jenny got her break, and I went to bed tired and happy.

Day 2, Tuesday.

Melissa's turn. I picked her up at our mechanic's place so we could leave her car there for an oil change. She hoped to spend the afternoon sewing, something that is difficult to accomplish with a clingy, though miraculous, 4 month old. As it happened, Melissa was sick that day so she really wasn't feeling up to much. And sweet little Quinten, true to form, just wanted his Mama and not his Grammy. Melissa told me later that when she and Donny were going through the adoption process, she had asked the Lord for a baby that would bond with her, that would snuggle her, that would want her. Well, her prayer was answered! Quinten wants to be held constantly by either Melissa or Donny and he also isn't convinced that sleeping in his own bed is advantageous. No matter! He is here, praise God! Melissa is so patient and loving with him. I heard her singing to him while I did dishes and laundry. Melissa and I sat and visited but I kept getting stressed because she wasn't doing what I thought she wanted to do. Eventually, she told me that she just needed some company and she was perfectly happy sitting, holding and loving her son, and talking to me. It was humbling - I wanted to serve her, I wanted to be helpful, but I wasn't listening to her. I had my plans, my expectations, and I was determined to see those plans accomplished, come hell or high water. In the end, we had a pretty nice time. I had brought her a crock pot dinner, lots of laundry was folded and put away, dishwasher run twice and unloaded, baby played with and smothered with kisses. I drove her back to town so she could pick up her car. I had an unsatisfied feeling - I felt like I had let her down on two fronts. One, she didn't get to sew (I count this even though she told me she wasn't up to it) and two, I pestered her all day to do something fun when fun to her would have been just resting in peace and talking. Lesson learned? Probably not, sadly. My girls will be quick to tell you that I bulldoze them whenever I can. I'm well-intentioned but misguided. Melissa was gracious about the day and said she was glad to not have to worry about some of the housework but I hope to  try again another day.

Day 4, Thursday.

Yesterday was uneventful - I puttered at home, organized my fabric, went to the office for a bit, etc. But Thursday was Sarah's time. I wanted to take Gabriel somewhere and do something with him. He is 11 now and getting so big that I find it hard to think of creative activities for him to enjoy. I decided he would have more fun with a buddy along instead of only his old Grammy so I invited Logan to accompany us. My plan was to take the boys on a hike. I'd never been on the Bob Jones Trail but had heard about it and thought it might be just the ticket. Ever the planner, I got up early and typed out a scavenger hunt list. I had 15 items selected for them to look for and and then...I also had a spiritual lesson (don't worry, it was brief) to go along with each item they observed. I was pleased with my insights and I had visions of the boys being amazed by their Grammy's wisdom and ability to make God's truth applicable to them but still fun. I packed snacks, water, a first aid kit (after all these were boys) and took off for what I was sure would be a grand adventure. I met Jenny in town where I collected Logan and the three of us took off for the Atascadero Subway. Logan had a gift card to Subway and he had been saving it to use when he was with Gabriel. On the way to Atascadero with two young boys in the back seat, what topic do you suspect came up for discussion? What else? Farts! Rather than fight it, I told the boys that they had until we pulled up to Subway to make all the farts sounds as loud and as long as they wanted. But after that, it was a taboo subject. For the next 15 minutes I listened to various farts sounds as well as fart competitions and fart lessons. The boys were having a ball but they were real good about cutting it off when we finally (thankfully) arrived at Subway. We also stopped at a grocery store to buy grapes and more water so that we could be healthy for 5 minutes. We took our lunch to a little park in Santa Margarita and after eating the boys ran off to play for a bit. I should have picked up on this cue. They didn't want to leave but...yep, I had a plan. Off to the Bob Jones Trail we went. My roommate had given me directions. She had also explained that the trail started right where there was a sign regarding a mountain lion sighting. She assured me that I didn't need to worry. The sign was dated June, 2013 and had never been taken down.

This is what greeted us. In case you can't read it, the June date had been crossed off and it was now dated 8/22/14, just a few days before. Great. For the first 10 minutes of the trail, all the boys talked about was mountain lions.

"Do they eat people?" "I'll poke his eye out with my stick!" "What was that?" "What will we do if we see one?" "I'm gonna keep beating these sticks together to scare the mountain lions."

"Oh my gosh! Give it a rest!!"

Finally, that subject was put to bed and the boys quickly began finding the items on their scavenger hunt list. That was fabulous! The only problem was that they were uninterested in taking the time to hear my little spiritual lesson that was tied to each item. (For example, shouldn't every young boy want to know how sin is like poison oak or how a bird teaches us about trust in God?) They were also uninterested in hiking. These are two boys that will throw themselves around in my pool for endless hours but were complaining every step of the way about hiking. I admitted defeat and we turned around. On the way back, an older couple passed us heading towards the beach (where we were supposed to have gone.) The woman said to me, "Did you make it all the way?" I laughed and said, "Are you kidding? They've been griping since we got out of the car!" At this, her husband turned to the boys and said, "Right? That's what I said! I just wanted to drive to the beach." Thanks for the encouragement, buddy.

We walked a little farther and at one of the many rest stops, Gabriel decided he would try to break his stick on a boulder that was on the side of the trail. I couldn't resist so I did take that opportunity to tell the boys the story of Moses striking the rock with his staff instead of simply talking  to the rock as God had told him to do. I have no idea if any of it stuck but I was bound and determined to try. We made it back to the car, went to another park down in Pismo where we all had a good time and then finished off the day with Slurpee's at 7-11 and another timed "Fart Sound" session.

What do you want to bet that the thing they remember is that Grammy let them make fart sounds in her car? I had to laugh at myself! What a week! And yet, what a privilege to spend hours with grandchildren. Plans? Whatever!

Jeremiah 29:11 

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.

Psalm 33:11

But the plans of the Lord stand firm forever, the purposes of his heart through all generations.

Proverbs 19:21

 Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.

For My Brother

My brother - I love him tremendously, worry about him constantly, pray for him, get frustrated by him, struggle to understand him, pester and nag him, anger him, cry for him. So many conflicting emotions yet perhaps this is true of many of our relationships. Recently, he confessed something very thought provoking to me. He said that he has never felt that God has abandoned him. In fact, he doesn't feel God ever would. However, he felt like the "radio waves were broken". He doesn't hear God and he doesn't feel like God hears him though he says he has spent countless hours trying to get through to God. He has lost hope that things will ever change. I didn't have a good answer for him. I have ideas but they are couched in standard "good girl" Christian rhetoric and probably wouldn't mean anything to him at this point. As I have been praying for him, I have had to ask the Holy Spirit to intercede for me because I am completely baffled by what exactly to ask God to do for him. I decided to try to do a little research and see what the Bible says about hearing God, listening to God, and God speaking to us. After all, my words are meaningless unless they echo God's words.

John 10:3-5
     The watchman opens the gate for Him, and the sheep listen to His voice. He calls His own sheep by name and leads them out. When He has brought out all His own, He goes on ahead of them, and His sheep follow Him because they know His voice. But they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they will run away from him because they do not recognize a stranger's voice.

His sheep know His voice. So the first question might be: Am I truly God's sheep? If I can answer "yes" then I need to explore why God's voice isn't coming through loud and clear. Do I believe that God is speaking? If so, then I need to figure out how to listen better. But maybe I doubt that God is actually speaking to me all the time. Maybe I think He just speaks sometimes. Or maybe sin is in the way. Maybe, I don't take time to listen.

Psalm 46:10
     Be still, and know that I am God; ...

Psalm 37:7
     Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him...

I am amazed at how difficult it is to actually "be still", to empty my mind of all but God.

Hearing from God is primarily a heart issue.  You will hear from God when you decide to hold His will as your most important priority. More than being disciplined or practicing religious habits, a disciple willing to let go of his own desires that are counter to God’s expressed purpose shows single minded, pure hearted devotion. This person will hear God’s voice, not because he’s good enough, but because God promises to speak to the pure of heart.  (Tim Burns on CBN.com)

I'm also amazed at how I neglect the actual words of God. I am blessed to have a Bible in almost every room of my house. I know my brother has several. And yet, I'd best not complain about hearing from God if I can't even take the time to read what He has already said.

Do I follow up on what God tells me in His Word? In other words, do I do what I'm told?

I Samuel 15:22
     Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the Lord? To obey is better than sacrifice and to heed is better than the fat of rams.

Obedience - isn't that the way to "hold His will as your most important priority"?
And what does God have for us?

Jer. 29:11-13
     "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." Then you will call on Me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek Me and find Me when you seek Me with all your heart.

Do I come before the Lord humbly and openly or do I make demands on Him? Do I seek Him with all my heart?

Proverbs 16:3
     Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and He will establish your plans.

Proverbs 3:5-6
     Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.


Commit, trust, submit. It's a trifecta of keys to knowing God. So what do I say to a person who is convinced that God doesn't hear him and doesn't plan to answer him? My brother was raised in a Christian home. He has lots of head knowledge and has heard the "steps to salvation" many times. Honestly, what can I say? I sometimes feel I'm barely hanging on myself. I shouldn't presume to know or judge what his issues are either. But this I do know - my faith in God, however weak and flawed it may be, is what keeps me going. Whatever I do, I want it to be pleasing and glorifying to God and that is hard when my pride keeps getting in the way. Self - it's Satan's dirty little word. But I press on. Why? Because He is my God. My brother struggles with despair, depression, hopelessness, poor health, loneliness, confusion, and desperation. But he is not alone. More and more, I realize how many people are just a day or two away from giving up. And yet, all the more reason to reach for God. The more we realize the futility of living life on our own terms, the more we should recognize that God, the lover of our souls, is all there is. More than anything, I want to be able to say to my brother, and others like him, "Hang on and keep trying. God has kept you alive so far so you can still respond to Him. I don't know what stands in your way. Are you truly one of His? Do you acknowledge that His death on the cross was for you? Do you recognize your sin? Are you willing to listen to Him by reading His Word? Especially, can you submit to Him? If God told you that your earthly circumstances were not going to change, could you trust and commit to your Creator?"

We must not trivialize or over-simplify a person's struggles with God. Yes, there are steps to take. Yes, there are lots of guidelines out there. Yes, God's message is straight forward enough for children to understand. But sin takes its toll on this world and the mind isn't always clear enough to sort all this out. And so I pray, for all those so beaten down by life, so scarred by their own selfish choices, so deceived and hopeless. Only God's Holy Spirit can break through the terrible darkness that people live in and spread His light. I'm sermonizing now and I don't want to do that. I want my brother to have what I have. It's as simple as that. How does God do that? I don't know what it will take for him or many others I know. I just know that God is a God of miracles, of healing, of comfort, of peace, of hope - all things that seem to grow more elusive as our earth continues to deteriorate. I find myself growing discouraged and hopeless too, not for myself but for others. Shame on me! How can I be so sure of God's saving power in my own life and yet doubt the possibility of it in another's? My prayer today is that I would step up - that God would not give me rest until I recognize that my responsibility is the same as any other Christian. I need to obey God and I can't do that unless I know God and I can't do that unless I listen to God and I can't do that unless I hear God and I can't do that without studying His Word and committing myself to prayer. My life needs to be one of action but not action that is motivated by my own interests or pursuits or my own sense of self-importance. I cannot change my brother's circumstances, his mind, his heart. I cannot ease his way, comfort him, or bring him peace. But I can stand in the gap for him and beg the Lord to free him from the bondage by which he is enslaved. In the meantime, I can respond to the Lord as I should with joy, thanksgiving, and a sacrifice of praise because He is my Savior.

We all need hope and certainly, our country and our world is desperate for it. It breaks my heart for my brother. A good friend was just encouraging me today to keep praying for him and was reminding me of the power of our prayers. I don't pretend to understand

and prayer and how it works is something with which I have always struggled. But God commands me to pray and so I will, both for my brother's heart and for mine. Thank you, Lord, for the privilege of interceding for him and thank you for endlessly giving me opportunities to obey You.

Motherhood in the 'hood

When I was a young mom I lived in an older (i.e. declining) neighborhood in Goleta. We had purchased our first home three years after getting married and then the following year my oldest daughter, Sarah, was born. Coincidentally, it was the same neighborhood that I had been raised in and my parents still lived there. In fact, their house was only four doors down from the house we bought. Not long after Sarah came along, one of my best friends, Carole Sue, and her husband, Norm, bought a house right around the corner. So fun! A friend from my high school youth group, Kristi, ended up in a house halfway between Carole Sue and I.

Carole Sue & I in front of Mom & Dad's house.

We were all broke although we weren't acutely aware of that as being a problem. When I was a girl it was an idyllic place to live - outside of Santa Barbara, safe, innocent, made up of working class families with old-fashioned values. The neighborhood was now mainly low-income types or rentals except for the old-timers like my parents. Their next-door neighbor, Joan, still lived there and does to this day. Across the street and up a few houses were Carl and Gladys Wanless - I went to school with their son Mike. I had wonderful memories (wish I still had them) of growing up there and was excited about raising a family in the same area, especially with my kids' grandparents just a stone's throw away.

Eventually, I had three daughters, Carole Sue had a daughter and a son, and Kristi had three boys and a girl. There was always someone to hang with. We'd put the babies in the strollers and walk down to the local thrift store or maybe around the corner to a little park that sometimes had drug paraphernalia in the sand. Carole Sue and I got together at least one morning a week and prayed with each other while the kids played. Kristi's son, Ryan, and my Sarah were the best of friends. Birthday parties were simple affairs on someone's front lawn. We traded babysitting with each other, spent evenings together in a Bible Study or playing music or enjoying fresh lobster that Norm brought home (he worked on the wharf and was occasionally blessed with the gift of a fresh catch). My folks were "Nana" and "Papa" to the whole brood. Later, the Anderson's moved into a house on our same street. They were a wonderful Christian family - I can't remember how many kids they had - and we enjoyed their company also. We had other close friends - Montgomery's, Nielsen's, Hill's - we loved vacationing with them, going to church together and sharing life together and they remain precious to me - but there was just something about being able to walk out my front door and within two minutes I could have the camaraderie of another mom or the support of my mom and dad and my kids had their own little tribe.

Singing at Christmas with the Morris family, Nana & Papa

and with the Mayfields.

Jenny with Sarah, Katie Mayfield, & Joy Anderson.

Melissa is the last one of my daughters to become a mother. She has waited a long time for her dream to become a reality and she is thrilled. Now, she must adjust to being a stay-at-home mom. I feel like all of my girls have to work harder these days to form good relationships with other moms. Lives seem busier and people are more spread apart. Carole Sue, Kristi, Donna, Marilyn, Sue, and many others were the women that helped get me through my days as a young mother. What a blessing they were and are. I hope and pray that all four of my girls have those relationships like I did. The friendships you make when your children are young seem to last a lifetime.

I've watched their kids at a moment's notice, banged on their door in the middle of the night in a crisis, spent hours pouring out my frustrations, and many more hours sharing laughter and tears. They are my history, whether they lived down the street or across town.

Girls - I pray you make your own 'hood!!

Joy

People tell me all the time how funny I am. I guess that's true. I do have a quirky way of looking at things sometimes. The problem is that my public humorous persona seldom matches what is really going on inside of me. I've been pondering this lately. Why is it that I wake up most mornings with a heaviness? Why do I sometimes wonder if I'm really doing anything with my life or doing anything for God? Why do I feel such a burden for people surrounding me? Is this what depression looks like? Or could it be discontentment?

de·pres·sion

 noun \di-ˈpre-shən, dē-\

: a state of feeling sad

: a serious medical condition in which a person feels very sad, hopeless, and unimportant and often is unable to live in a normal way

dis·con·tent·ed

adjective \ˌdis-kən-ˈten-təd\

: not happy with your situation, position, etc. : not contented

dis·con·tent

 adjective \ˌdis-kən-ˈtent\

: not pleased or satisfied

Uh oh. Yes, I sometimes feel sad. Who doesn't? But I am able to live in a normal way. I'm not curled up in a ball on the floor or anything. I go to work, fix dinner for my dad, visit the kids, and play with my grand kids. So...that leaves discontentment. Ouch! I've been a Christian long enough to know that a lack of contentment is NOT a fruit of the Spirit!

Galatians 5

22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

So what is my excuse? I'd like to say that there is no simple answer but maybe there is. I concentrate so much on myself! Even as I deliberate this issue, I make it about me - how I feel, what I think, what I do, how I do it - me, me, me. Where is my joy supposed to come from? I need to focus on who I am in Christ and all that He has done for me.

I am saved. (Romans 10)

I am forgiven. (I John 1)

I am loved. (I John 4)

I have hope. (Rom. 5, Titus 1, 2, & 3)

I have a Savior who is alive. (I Peter 1)

I am God's daughter. (Eph. 1)

I am chosen. (Eph. 1)

I am redeemed. (Gal. 3)

I have peace. (Phil. 4)

I am free. (Rom. 8)

The list goes on and on. What strikes me is this - the Bible doesn't say that I might be saved or that I am going to be forgiven or that I will be loved or that I may have hope or that Christ possibly rose from the dead or that eventually I'll be adopted by God or that I am waiting to be chosen or that I have to earn my redemption or that I can have peace or that I am partially free. It is already a done deal. I don't have to question or worry about my position in Christ. It is secured by His blood and I am in!! 

No, I am not truly depressed but neither am I satisfied. Shame on me! 

"Dear Lord, forgive me for only thinking of myself. When I awaken tomorrow morning, let my first thoughts be of You and all that You have given me and for the blessings Your sacrifice has provided."

Psalms 5

11 But let all who take refuge in You be glad; let them ever sing for joy. Spread Your protection over them, that those who love Your name may rejoice in You. 12 For surely, O LORD, You bless the righteous; You surround them with Your favor as with a shield.

Psalms 16

6 The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.7 I will praise the LORD, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me. 8 I have set the LORD always before me. Because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken. 9 Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body also will rest secure, 10 because You will not abandon me to the grave, nor will You let Your Holy One see decay.

Psalms 28

7 The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to Him in song.

Walmart in a Small Town

Lots of people make fun of Walmart and the people that shop there. There's even a whole website about the People of Walmart.

http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/ 

But...Hello! We live in a small town and you just can't beat Walmart's prices so I imagine that even those who hate Walmart find themselves shopping there, at least occasionally. Besides, where else can you buy wine, water softener salt, ice, and Velcro all in the same place? Anyway, I ran into Walmart the other night for what I hoped would be a quick trip. Is that really possible? A quick trip to Walmart? I wasn't feeling great (had bronchitis again), had worked all day, and I just wanted to get in and out fast. But here's what really happened...

First, I ran into an acquaintance from church. We spent a very pleasant 20 minutes or so chatting near the milk aisle about kids, weddings, jobs, etc. A couple that we both know, also from church, stopped by for a minute or two, but they wisely moved on somewhat quickly. Finally, my friend and I decided we'd better make some progress so we went our separate ways. I passed a man who was talking on his phone. The person on the other end was evidently instructing him to buy fresh strawberries and he was complaining that he was going to have to drive all over the place to get the stuff he needed. Poor baby. Next aisle over I actually spotted fresh strawberries. I was tempted to hunt him down and show them to him but he didn't deserve it since he was such a wanker so I kept going.

I proceeded to the greeting card department.

I bumped into another friend who had been in the "Young Adult Group" that met at my house for years. He was with his fiancee and they were buying tires and discovering how expensive it was to support themselves. We only had a short conversation, however, because my dad called to check on me. Besides, I really wanted to get home. I had no water softener salt or Velcro yet but someone had put Frito's and Cheetos into my cart. Back to the cards. Do you realize how expensive cards are these days? They were $3.00 at the least but most were more. I spent quite a bit of time picking out a number of them. Another woman was nearby doing the same thing. Eventually, I had about five cards in my hand but realized that they were going to cost me more than $20.00. I started putting my cards back. Ironically, the neighboring woman began to do the same thing. We instantly bonded over the high cost of expressing affection through the written word and for the next 15 minutes, she told me how she was getting married for the 3rd time (optimistic), couldn't find anything to wear for the wedding (I recommended Dress Barn), her mother was advocating just living together (not so optimistic), and how good her fiance was to her. While I found it somewhat odd that this stranger was telling me her life story, I was also beginning to slow down and give up my dream of a "quick" Walmart trip. After all, I had nothing to rush home to except NCIS. We finally parted ways, agreeing that we would buy our cards at the Dollar Store and I genuinely wished her an enjoyable wedding as I headed towards Fabric. 

As I turned a corner a man bolted out of the Sporting Goods aisle carrying a basket designed to be hooked onto the front of a bike. 

"Can you believe this?", he said to me. "$24.00 for this bike basket!"

"Terrible!", I agreed. 

Who was this guy? Later, in the check out line, I saw him again. He was buying the whole bike which was going to cost him considerably more than $24.00. Oh well, to each their own. By that time I had retrieved my Velcro, salt, ice, etc. and was finally, definitely, hurriedly, looking forward to home. Of course, there were only three check stands open, each with at least twelve people waiting in line. I considered my choices - there was the line that had a young woman with not one but two carts, both loaded to the gills. Pass. There was the line with the bicycle man in it and he had been joined by a woman who had a dog in her cart (I am not making this up). Pass. I chose the last line and patiently waited a fairly long time but honestly, by then, I was actually enjoying watching everything going on around me. My checker told me my total and she very generously had neglected to charge me for the water softener salt or the ice. Sweet of her but I couldn't accept her gift. She redid my total and I was free! I practically ran out the door to my car. I had a premium parking space close to the store, right next to a handicap spot.

The woman with the car in the handicap slot had just finished loading her things when I arrived. 

"Do you mind if I look inside your car?", she asked me. 

Seriously? Was this trip for real? 

"Ummm, ". 

"I don't have to get in. I just want to look in the windows." 

Eventually, she explained that she owned a Honda (same as me) but she didn't like it. Her husband had Parkinson's, the car was too small, mine was larger and she wondered how I felt about mine. I found myself telling her how the front seat was uncomfortable, I couldn't see out the windows to back up (not the car's fault - it's a short person problem), and how my dad had so graciously GIVEN me the car, it had very low mileage, and so I loved it. She decided to go buy a Toyota.

Twenty minutes later I was in my garage. It hadn't been a quick trip to Walmart. But you know, I had a smile on my face. We're all in this together, in various stages of crazy. My dad never met a stranger and he will take the time to talk to anybody! That night at Walmart, I caught a glimpse of why he does that. Maybe I'll try it a little more often.

Self-Control

Self-Control:  restraint exercised over one's own impulses, emotions, or desires

I desire a dessert-type snack at 10:45 p.m. I curb my urges and do not drive into town for a Snicker's Bar. I use staples from my kitchen and butter a flour tortilla, sprinkle it with cinnamon and sugar, and broil it. That is my definition of self-control.

I arrive home from work and hear a message on my answering machine. The message is from a doctor's office in Santa Barbara asking Paul (not the apostle Paul) to call them at his earliest convenience. I have an impulse to call the office and ask them, "Why the hell are you calling me?" Instead, I exercise restraint and settle for a glass of wine. Again, self-control.

I am stressed because of work, kids, money, etc. Take your pick. I feel like going to Kohl's after work for some retail therapy, however, budget cutbacks suggest that I consider a different route. So instead, I drive home, get in bed at 6:30 p.m. and proceed to watch six hours of NCIS. That is some self-control!

All seriousness aside, what is God's definition of self-control? I am asking myself this because I am lacking in this particular fruit of the Spirit. I have self-control in some areas of my life - I rarely lose my temper, I typically finish what I start, I get my work done before I play, I apply lotion every day, etc. However, I am well aware that there are other times when self-control is completely missing. Those times usually involve eating, exercising (actually not exercising), and watching too much television. At least that's what I thought. I decided to dig a little and see what the Bible had to say about self-control.

In Acts 24, Paul was brought up on charges of being a "troublemaker" and had to appear before the governor, Felix. Paul spoke to Felix about "righteousness, self-control, and the judgement to come." That struck me. Righteousness and judgement are important, heavy-duty subjects. But self-control? Is it that important? Paul apparently thought so. And most of us know that in Galatians 5 self-control is listed as a fruit of the Spirit. I have the Spirit in me so logically, self-control should be within my reach. We do have help. 2 Corinthians tells us that "the love of Christ controls us." It stands to reason that the more we are conformed to the image of Christ, the more self-control we will exhibit. And what an example Christ was for us. When He was accused, He kept silent; when tortured He didn't fight back; when humiliated He didn't get angry.

A synonym for control is discipline. Here is part of the definition of discipline:

"training, especially of the mind or character; the training effect of experience or misfortune; the trained condition of order and obedience."

OBEDIENCE. I noticed that word immediately. I can develop self-control by simply being obedient to God. The word training indicates that this is a process. It takes practice. That means I won't be able to master it today but I will improve over time.

Another synonym for control is regulate. The definition of regulate is:

"to put in condition to work properly."

That's what I want! I want to "work properly." Is it possible that by submitting to God's training, practicing self-control, and learning from my experiences and misfortunes, all that I am will work
better? I'm sure that's what it means and that is an encouraging concept to me.

Then I stumbled upon these verses:

1 Timothy 4:7-8

⁷ But have nothing to do with worldly fables fit only for old women. On the other hand, discipline yourself for the purpose of godliness; ⁸ for bodily discipline is only of little profit, but godliness is profitable for all things, since it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come.

Godliness is the thing to strive for because it is profitable "for all things." I'd like to think that this means that I don't need to worry about "bodily discipline" but that isn't the case. Eating half of an Ultimate Berry Pie from Trader Joe's at 11:00 p.m. is probably not my best idea. But I tend to focus on these less important things - my weight, my eating, my inactivity, etc. I need to set my sights higher. I need to discipline myself for the "purpose of godliness." Everything I do should be measured against God's standards. It's a question of priorities and if I am spending more time concentrating on "bodily disciplines" like what I eat rather than more important disciplines like prayer or Bible study, I will miss God's greater purpose for my life - godliness. And that godliness will trickle down to every arena of my life and I will be saturated with it. Marinated in the things of the Lord, my life might one day be sort of like that Ultimate Berry Pie - memorable, filling, satisfying, and a credit to its Maker!