Parles viux Francois?

So, I'm knitting a sweater for Sophie.  It's really pretty and I'm almost finished with it.  The yarn is super soft and multicolored (oh, and discontinued), and the pattern is on the yarn wrapper.  Directions are in English and French.  I bought the last three remaining balls of this yarn at Michaels last month.   The first set of instructions got destroyed and mangled by the vacuum. Grrr.  No problem.  I have two more.  

I unwrapped the second one.  My darling goat-dog, Haley, got a hold of that wrapper, and in 5 seconds, ate only the English instructions.  

On to wrapper #3. Two days later, I come in the house after just leaving Haley for five minutes, I sit down to knit, and what's left?  "Premiere Manche:  en com au bord du poignet de la premiere manche, monter 12 m "

I'm screwed.  Unless I can find the pattern.  

Thank goodness the pattern # didn't end up in Haley's stomach.  

Found the pattern.  I love the Internet. But Haley is on my list right now.  I'm not knitting her anything.  

But how, just HOW did she know to just eat the English instructions?

A light in the darkness

Food for thought today:  When gloom and darkness overwhelm me  I must open the Word.  Psalm 119 says God's Word is a lamp for my feet and a light for my path.   When I'm walking and I don't know where I'm stepping I must open the Word to light the way so I can see the dangers and see the snares. The path of life is full of trouble and joys, blessings, distractions and sorrows, and only the Word can light the way and show us which way we need to go. And not just the Word in the scripture but the Word as in Jesus Christ, who is the Word. He is the way and the truth and the light. He is the Word made flesh. As long as Christ is walking beside me and I am walking WITH him, with the Holy Spirit inside me, His light will light my way.    

Stillness

"Be still, and know that I am God" declares the psalmist. Being still...not my strongpoint. In fact, I would hazard to guess being "still" does not come naturally to any human being. We are too busy keeping busy and planning more busy-ness.  Case in point, today is Sunday, at least for another 46 minutes. I woke up, and from the moment my feet hit the floor, it was a struggle for me to relax, to rest, to be "still." Making the coffee, feeding the dogs, getting ready for church, checking my phone, straightening up the house, making the bed. Not until I got to church did I actually take the TIME to be STILL. The scripture lesson? Psalm 46, of course.  

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.  Therefore, we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling.  There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High.  God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved; God will help her when morning dawns.  The nations rage, the kingdoms totter; he utters his voice, the earth melts.  The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.  Come, behold the works of the LORD, how he has brought desolations on the earth.  He makes wars cease to the end of the earth; he breaks the bow and shatters the spear; he burns the chariots with fire.  "Be still, and know that I am God.  I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!"  The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.

With the aftermath of Hurricane Harvey in Texas still fresh on everyone's minds, especially for our pastor and many church members who have had family and friends personally affected and displaced by this most recent disaster, the first four verses seem to cry out to them personally. But I only half listened to the analogies about floods and winds and earth giving way.  And again, when North Korea's most recent nuclear test and the general instability of a lot of the world were referenced in the part about "the nations rage, the kingdoms totter;" again, my mind was not fully engaged. I was focused on my own storm, my own internal wars. I could not be completely still.  

After church, lunch with my husband and his brother. Again, not completely engaged; sitting and eating, conversing (somewhat), but my mind and my heart, not STILL. Then home, and busy-ness took over--give the dogs baths, clean the kitchen, eat dinner, update the calendar, make a dinner reservation, start planning a trip to visit family.  Unable to make any decision on dates.  Trying to not think about the lawsuit. The ugliness of it all. Ashamed that I cannot let go, that I cannot be still, no matter how hard I try. Thinking and worrying about what will happen, how and when and if it will ever be resolved, trying to comprehend why and how this happened: all these thoughts tumble around in my head, 24/7. Every waking moment, heck, even my dreams, are consumed with thoughts of the lawsuit.  

Why?  Because the very existence of it, the fact that it is still NOT resolved, screams at me, YOU ARE NOT IN CONTROL!!!!  

And finally, with less than 30 minutes remaining in the day of rest, a day when I should above all, be STILL, it hits me. I am worried and saddened and irritated with myself for not having control. For not being able, for once, to fix it, solve it, clean it, or put it away where it belongs. Eight little words...

"Be still. Don't do anything, or think anything, or say anything. Just wipe it out of my mind. Think about God.His plan. His timing. Look at everything else that is going on in my life that I should be happy about, praying about, focused on.  

and know. Be aware, cognizant, alert. Be conscious of who I am and what I can and cannot do. That I am not in control. Of anything.  

that I am God." The creator of the universe. The I Am. Omniscient. Omnipotent.  Omnipresent.  

Being still is not inaction, or sleeping, or even waiting for something to happen.  It is to be at peace, to be assured that, no matter what happens, God has this. Trusting that the God of Jacob is MY fortress, my stronghold, my safety, and my ever-present salvation.  

It is not easy, this being still.  

BE STILL

But what if...

BE STILL

Yeah, I know, but...

BE STILL   

But...

Hush...

Friendship

When I was a little girl, I had very few friends, and over the years, although I've met many, many people, that still rings true. I have gained friends and lost friends, and both experiences are completely beyond my comprehension; many people whom I considered as friends turned out to not be friends at all. I don't say that to garner sympathy, but to emphasize that true friends are rare, and, as Robert Louis Stevenson said, a friend is a gift we give ourselves.  

The meaning of friendship has cheapened over the past decade, thanks largely to our addiction to social media sites like FaceBook, Twitter, and Instagram. A friend used to be someone with whom you had a close bond, not sexual, not family, but someone with whom you share a mutual attraction. Friends share secrets, jokes, a past--a true friend knows you better than you know yourself. Songs have been written about friends, a TV show made six young people famous overnight, and adages abound regarding friends.  "A friend in need is a friend indeed." (old English proverb); "Make new friends, keep the old, one is silver and the other gold." (old Girl Scout song); "What a friend we have in Jesus!" (Joseph Scriven,) "Oooh, you're making me live, you're my best friend!" (Freddie Mercury), "A sweet friendship refreshes the soul." (Proverbs 27:9), "A single soul dwelling in two bodies" (Aristotle).

Nowadays, a "friend" is just a face on a website, a name, a tally on a list.  This friend could be a relative, a co-worker, an acquaintance, a friend of one of your friends, a friend's children, or a customer. More often than not, a friend could  be someone we have not even physically met.  "Friend requests" are akin to offering someone a piece of gum.  According to FaceBook, I have 301 "friends," yet many of the people I consider close friends and actually speak to on something other than a screen are not even on FaceBook, let alone on that list.  What was once just a noun has become a verb, and created new words in the urban lexicon. Someone "friends" you to be in your social circle, and "unfriending" has become the internet equivalent of a cold shoulder, a schoolyard spat, or "talk to the hand."  Want to shun someone? Take more drastic action by "blocking" him, effectively cutting that person out of your social media circle completely. So complicated, and so meaningless--we are constantly checking our friends' statuses, looking at photos, commenting on their posts, all the while not even truly engaged in communicating with each other. Heck, many times we are with OTHER friends while we rudely keep our faces buried in our phones and tablets to "talk" to our virtual, not-present friends.  

So, why the rant today? Tired of friend requests from people I barely know, or people who would rather not even speak to me. Disgusted that I actually stooped to practically begging to be "friends" with some of my relatives, even though they haven't spoken to me for years. Shocked that I had to resort to "blocking" most of my immediate family members to prevent online harassment. Hurt that there are family members who actually equate FaceBook "friendship" with a real relationship. Embarrassed that I actually gauge my likability rating in my family by who is my friend, and who is not. Sick of the overuse of words that used to mean something:  Like. Love. Friend. Sad.  Happy. Angry. Hate. 

Most of all, I am trying to reconcile my faith, my beliefs, and my love of Christ with all of this. Not all my friends are Christians, but they are still my friends. Not all my friends are on FaceBook, and not all my FaceBook friends are really my friends.  

I wish FaceBook would just use a different word than "friend." How about "face?"  Or "person of interest," or "contact,"  or "practically meaningless virtual person?"  

Just not "friend."

Life is Short

Life is too short...we have all said it.  Too short for what, you ask? Too short to waste. Too short to squander.  Eternity is coming, and it is forever.

A friend of mine has terminal cancer.  A local man was kidnapped and murdered last week, and an 18 year old young man was killed in a drug deal gone bad.  A customer told me today her sister, the youngest of five, died unexpectedly; one of the volunteers just found out his wife has cancer.  One of the clients on my Meals on Wheels route shot himself last week, whether accidentally or intentionally no one but God will ever know.  

My youngest sister died 30 years ago at the age of 24, and my two living sisters haven't spoken to me in over a year.  And I haven't spoken to them.  One of them hasn't spoken to our 93-year old father in over 8 months.  Considering that God determined long ago how many days each of us has on this earth, and that none of us knows the number of those days, how ridiculous is that?  

Yeah, I may be immortal until God's purpose for me has been fulfilled, but since I have no idea when that will be, shouldn't I be living as if the next breath is my last?  Living for Christ?  Bringing others to Christ?  

Hard things to think about today.  

The Good Daughter

All of my life I have been vying for the title of the good daughter, the good wife, the good mother, the good ____________ (insert role here).  Achievement of these lofty titles has always been completely subjective and capricious, as prerequisites and requirements have no basis in anyone's reality other than my own. The yardstick for measuring "good" is not stable; rather, it is nebulous and mercurial, and completely dependent on my mood and state of mind at that particular moment.  If I am feeling self-righteous, and need to be vindicated, then I am "good," while if I am wallowing in the quicksand of self-pity and self-loathing, everyone else is "good" and I never will be. Regardless of where I am on the emotional spectrum, though, I can never achieve permanent goodness, or complete all the tasks and master all skills to be crowned good mother, or adored as the good daughter. There is always something: some thorn, some scab, some ugly fault or mistake, and yes, someone who is oh so much better and deserving of the title.  I could have done more, been a better person, yelled less, been more understanding, said the right thing, said nothing at all, spent more time, listened better, cooked more, smiled quicker, slept less, worked less, worked harder...the list goes on and on.  

It's exhausting, trying to achieve perfection.  

And it is impossible. Because I am not good, and no matter how hard I try, I never will be, not on my own merits. I am sinful, and selfish, and will never achieve perfection, at least not on my own. The more I struggle to achieve goodness, the more unreachable the goal becomes. Strive as I may for perfection, I can only realize frustration in it always being out of reach, with that ugly, cloudy reflection of my ego looking back at me, the wall of self blocking the finish line.  Heck, just the act of trying to be good pushes me farther away from it, because I am fooled into thinking my futile attempts at goodness (as defined by me) are worthwhile.  They are not. For goodness can no more emanate from my sinful, selfish core than clean water spring from sewage.    

Ironic that trying to be good only reinforces that I am not.

How liberating, and wonderful, and praiseworthy is that realization!

Wait a minute...what?

Yes, that's what I said. Trying to be "good" is a waste of time--only God is good, the God who created me, the God who sent his Son, also God, to redeem me, the God whose Spirit dwells within me. And I cannot be God, so therefore I cannot be good.  Only through God and His grace and His death and resurrection can I ever hope to achieve goodness, in Him. God is good. Always. In all things. Not because He does good things.  

Because He is God. God is good.  

Me? I am a mother, a daughter, a wife, a woman, a child of God. Not good. Not bad.  

Just God's.

Waiting on the Lord

It's a lot easier to wait on the Lord and trust in His timing when things are going smoothly.  But let something go wrong, something so unexpected and undeserved, and my control freak nature screams to take the helm. Waiting is not my strong suit, and soaring with wings of eagles is impossible when I'm weighed down with worries.   

Wrongly accused. To be wrongly accused and not be able to refute lies and accusations has been one of the hardest tests of my faith in God's plan and His omnipotence. It's been two years since we vainly tried to intervene in my mother's caregiving, two years of emails and letters and communication with sisters who do not hear or want to hear, and a year since they undid all our efforts and lied to the court. We are caught up in their web of lies and deceitfulness, laboriously and painstakingly working through the maze of lawyers, counterclaims, discovery, and responses, and that web threatens to take up all our time, and monopolize our thoughts. Deadlines come and go, and still no answers, no solutions. We hired a lawyer, but we depend and lean on God. People ask about the status. Our children don't understand why we can't just get the court to dismiss the case. No one has heard anything from my mother or sisters, and we don't even know where they are. Yet I trust in God and His wisdom, secure in the knowledge that He knows where they are, He knows the conclusion, and He will work it all to His glory. Nonetheless while writing this, part of me wants to take control, and at times I must rein in my desire to get answers my own way. This morning was one of those days so I searched His Word for guidance on waiting.  

Lamentations 3 gives me peace, and hope that this trial is not hopeless, and I am not lost. Like the prophet in lamentations, I have vacillated between gloomy despair and the promise of His mercies. One minute I am desolate, depressed, tortured, and full of self pity, wondering why God allows injustice. But when I  turn back to Him, when I relinquish my feeble attempt to control my destiny, then (and only then), do I fully comprehend, "Who has spoken and it came to pass, unless the Lord has commanded it?"  (Lamentations 3:37)

"The LORD is my portion," says my soul, "therefore I will hope in him.   The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him."  Lamentations 3:24-25