What's Your Theme?

I'm preparing to lead worship at our church's women's retreat in a few weeks. I've lead a couple of times before, but as usual, I always feel challenged and humbled at this task. God is always so faithful to bring these weekends together, blending all the elements which have been planned separately, producing a beautiful result...just what he wants it to be, accomplishing His purpose. I have no doubt He will do that again. I just want to be certain I'm attentive and hearing Him!

The theme of this year's retreat is called "Spa for the Soul". As I was looking through the speaker's outline for each session--4 in all--I saw her theme emerge. (I won't divulge it--but rather you'll have to wait for the retreat). "Coincidentally" as I was doing my own personal Bible study, I was in Psalms 22. Verse 25 says, "From you comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly." Hhmmm, "theme". What's with this "theme" thing?

David, who wrote this Psalm, speaks of his suffering and affliction in the preceding verses, acknowledging that God has met him in His need every time; many times he was delivered out of the hands of his enemies; "[God] has not hidden his face from [me] but has listened to [my] cry for help. Then David says, "From you (God) comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly."

Several things struck me about this. First of all, we all suffer at some time, in some way, or ways, we all are "afflicted". We are told in scripture that we will have trials. In these hardships, or afflictions, we grow the most...or I should say the opportunity for growth is increased as we rely on the Lord to walk us through each of these difficult things. Personally, I have found that I understand more about God's character, or something I read in the Bible makes more sense to me, or grace reaches deeper inside through each trial or hardship.

Secondly, the "theme" is not something we create, but God creates by what He allows into our lives. And, it doesn't seem to be the same theme for each person. We may have similar themes (similar hardships/sufferings/adversities), but God is the one who gives us our "themes", tailor-made for us individually so that we'll know Him in a deeper way--in an area, perhaps, where we need to know Him more fully?

Thirdly, it is our responsibility to share those themes with others in the Body--in the "great assembly"--in a public place. Praise is outward expression of telling God's greatness, telling of his goodness and what he has done. We are to tell others--praise God publicly--for what He has brought us out of, the enemies he has rescued us from, the adversities he has triumphed over.

So, as I prepare for the Women's retreat, it is impressed upon me how important it is for all of us--not just women--to be honest about life with one another. It is in Praising God for what he has brought us out of, or valleys He has brought us through, that others are encouraged, truth is told, suffering is eased, God is glorified, and we know Him deeper.

David's theme was that God was his deliverer, rescuer, triumphant warrior, comforter, hearer of his prayers. My theme would be God as father, friend, provider, deliverer, comforter. What is your theme? Please share. Praise God in the assembly...or even over a blog!

Intersections: West Meets East

A year ago this week, I stepped on a plane and headed for an adventure to the other side of the world. Up to that point, the furthest I had travelled was Indiana, USA, (seriously) yet here I was boarding a series of airplanes that would eventually take me to India. Leaving my husband and kids at home to fend for themselves (they did just fine without me around!), I went solo...well with the exception of the other 20+ people joining me. I went as a member of a group from my home fellowship with the purpose of visiting extended "family" in India to share "Good News" and bring encouragement to them. I find myself reminiscing quite a bit this week as another group from this same fellowship is leaving and I am left on this side of the world. A mysterious pang in my heart has developed since my trip...one that is aching a little bit this week knowing I won't be seeing this culturally rich land and it's people. Part of me wishes I were leaving this week as well.

India "wrecked" me--in a good way. I doubt I will ever be the same. Just remembering some of the people, their stories, their lives....it easily brings me to tears. And then I think of those that have found the Living Hope, the One who truly has set them free from their oppression...and I cry more. To hear their stories, to see their Light-filled eyes--they've captured my heart. It is hard not to think of these new friends in India when I sing words to songs that say "every tongue, every tribe will sing His praise." I feel as if I was allowed a glimpse into Heaven!


I thought I would share just a few "snapshots" of my experience. There are too many to post...


One of my favorite parts of the trip was spending 3 days at a women's retreat and discovering that there is a common thread that runs through all women, regardless of culture. When it comes down to it, we all love time with our girlfriends; we love to laugh and be silly; we all want to be beautiful and feminine and we all want to be loved. My East Indian sisters were no exception. What stunning, beautiful women and what great humor they showed!


While at the retreat, I remember a conversation with a young girl who spoke English quite well. She was talking about my white skin and amazed how fair it seemed--and in her eyes--was more beautiful than her own. I told her that I thought her brown skin was actually more beautiful and that other American women would agree. As I told her about the tanning shops where women pay to have their skin painted a bronze color, or sit under machines that will turn their white skin a light brown, she laughed, certain that I was making it up. I reassured her I was not. I still don't think she believed such a thing could be true!

One night I was with a group of woman, walking arm in arm with a small Indian woman who had taken a liking to me. She had grabbed my arm and proceeded to walk with me down the path alongside the cobra field (!). There were no interpreters around and neither of us spoke the other's language. As we walked, we each exchanged the only words we knew in the other's language. Then we both smiled, quite proud at our communication attempt. Then this sweet little woman became quite animated. I guess my prowess at saying "good-evening" in her native tongue was so impressive that she thought I was fluent. Suddenly she goes into a monologue of sorts, telling me some kind of story, trying to illustrate with her hands. I could only shake my head and say, 'sorry, I don't understand'. So then, she repeated herself, at a very loud volume, guessing that perhaps this would help me understand better. Nope. That really didn't' help! It was a good cross-cultural experience for me. I can affirm the fact that increasing one's volume really does not help with the understanding of a foreign language. We laughed , hugged one another and continued to walk down the dark path, arm in arm.

The final night of the retreat our hosts had a "garba" (spelled phonetically...I'm not certain of the actual spelling...if any of my India friends are reading, please let me know the correct spelling of this!) It almost looked like a movie set perfectly styled with beautiful Indian women dressed in their brightly colored Saris (sp?), dancing in a large circle under the cloudless night sky, with music sent out into the warm night air over a simple sound system. Lights from nearby buildings helped to guide their steps as women from many tribes and regions shared in a festive celebration. Smiling and encouraging us to join in, they pulled us into the circle, teaching us their native steps, enveloping us into their community. We tried, but lets just say it was easy to tell who the white girls were! Nevertheless, our efforts were appreciated by all, and we all laughed, danced and celebrated our time together.

Meanwhile, back in the city--

Driving in city traffic in India is almost beyond description. I recall the constant beeping of horns, the dodging of scooters, cows, dogs, goats, pedestrians; the absence of traffic control lights, and the many modes of transportation all sharing the same road.

One time we were driving along with one of our hosts and passed their local zoo. We asked "Exactly what animals do they have in the zoo? The animals we see in the street are the ones we have in our zoos back home!"

Street vendors line the roads with everything from shoes, to bags, to fruit, to clothing. The city never seems to sleep...always moving, always noisy.

So many memories and "snapshots". Perhaps I'll share more later. But I'll leave you with these to savor for the time being. I know at some point I will return to India again--maybe next year--who knows!

Confessions from a Failure

***This part inserted after initial posting:

This writing was inspired by other women who feel as if they've failed or are failures. I think we can all identify. Despite our best efforts and desire to give 110% to everything we do, there are still no guarantees that things will turn out like they're "supposed" to based upon some unpublished guideline, or as we desire them to. At some point we are faced with the choice of trying to live by the world's definition of "success" and thus strive harder, relying on our own strength to manage things and have control, which subsequently leaves us feeling more like failures the more out of control things get, or we get to the point we "give over" and release control to God, surrendering to Him, recognizing that on our own, we aren't able, but rather that He is the only one that can make any good of anything we do.

Living life is hard, and it seems there is always something or someone telling us how we're doing, scoring our efforts like judges at the Olympics. I choose to listen to the One who created me and knows me the best...and the only One able to really make something good come out of my life. Life has little purpose if not lived through Him and for Him.

**************
I'll confess. I'm a failure. Well at least by the world's standards, I am a failure. I'm owning it. I've failed more times than I've succeeded in the world. In fact, "success" seems to be illusive. I've had triumphs, but those are momentary or fleeting. "Failure" is the message that some 'well-meaning' (and some not so well meaning) believers tell me; this is the message that the enemy tells me.

Failure at what?

Failure at mothering. My kids aren't perfect. They have "attitudes" at times. In fact, sometimes my children act like all the other kids in the world. What went wrong? Didn't I raise them right? I took them to Sunday School since they were newborns. They each have accepted Jesus into their hearts. I've talked to them about not smoking marijuana, or cigarettes. I've gone over the do's and don'ts of life. And of course I've let them know that swearing is not allowed. And yet, they still grumble about "having to go" to church, one smokes cigarettes, sometimes they swear and even are disrespectful at other times. And as my son put it, I'm told things a mother hoped she would never hear. (Why didn't my "don't smoke cigarettes speech" work?--surely my presentation skills are lacking as well!!) Somewhere along the line, I must have failed.

Failure at being a wife. We can chalk up almost 22 years of marriage. But bliss? Nope. Soul-mate? Not sure either of us really knows what that means. Committed? Yep, but loving every minute of it? Nope. Do I always think of him and have a servant heart? Nope. Am I moody and irritable and just decide I'm going to be that way and tough luck? Yep. Do we pray together on a regular basis? Nope. Of course we know we "should" (I believe this is covered in Chapter 1 of the "Official Guide to the Good Christian Marriage Handbook for Soul Mates") Do we struggle with self-centered-ness and at times feel like going on vacation--separately? You betchya. Again...failure.

Failure at being a Believer. I asked Jesus into my heart when I was six. I've been a Christian for over 40 years! One would think I would have the discipline to read my Bible everyday! But do I? No. Oh, I'm much better than I used to be, but it is still a discipline issue for me. And memorization. "Thy word have I hid in my heart that I might not sin against thee." Somewhere along the line I didn't get that supernatural ability to remember verbatim everything I've read. How can this be? I was great at "Sword Drills". I know all the books of the Bible (I fulfilled that "Good Christian" requirement early in life) but I have to work at memorization. It truly is a difficult task for me. I do great with context, application, intention of the scripture, even general location within a book of a Bible; but, actual word by word recitation with chapter and verse? Nope. Really hard for me. And then there's this sin issue in my life. I still struggle with sin. In fact, daily. Daily I have to surrender myself to the Lord as I'm confronted with the ugliness inside of me. And the spiritual gifts department? In my eyes, mine are the 'touchy-feel-y' gifts! UGH! What a wimp! I'm a failure.

Personal and Professional failure. I'm not a mover and a shaker. Oh, I wish I were. But somehow I can't get my act together enough to be that kind of woman who does it all. I "should" have been able to juggle mothering 4 children , running a household, being a wife, and a Christian all while changing the world or being employed in some kind of noteworthy profession which involves wearing business suits and carrying a brief case of some sort. But no. I stayed home full-time...and a lot of good that did, right? As you already know, my children aren't "perfect"! Personally, I have struggled with "the blues" at different times in my life...at one time I was on medication for clinical depression. Major failure. I couldn't 'get over it' on my own! And then there is this "weight" thing. I can't even count how many times I've failed at controlling that! I've never been a "perfect" size! Failure, failure, failure!

Oh, and then there is this "Grace" issue. I'll confess, I'm a failure that is totally dependent on grace. In fact, I'm such a failure, I can't do life on my own and have to totally rely on the work of the Lord in my life to make anything good come of my efforts. Almost daily I am confronted with a new issue or insight that brings me to my knees in prayerful, tear-stained petitions to God, overwhelmed with feelings of helplessness. It is then that I see how out-of(my)-control my life is; how out-of-(my)-control the world is. Failure brings me to the end of myself--my insufficiencies-- where my only option--my only hope--is to cling to Grace's hand and the only One who is all-sufficient, always the victor, never failing.

***This part added the following day:
In case any are concerned that I'm wallowing in self-doubt and pity...I'm not. I don't really believe I'm a failure--but again, through the world's eyes, I may seem like one. But as I said earlier, I only care about the opinion of the One who made me! (In fact, my journey through depression was very much a spiritual journey...I'll share more about that in a later blog.) The life I live as a believer is one of victory even when it looks differently than how I imagined. I'm a child of God and He is good!

This song continually played through my mind during the night. It is one that sums up my (our)need for the daily work of God's grace in my (our) life (lives).

Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus

O soul, are you weary and troubled? No light in the darkness you see? There’s
a light for a look at the Savior, And life more abundant and
free!

Turn your eyes upon Jesus, Look full in His wonderful
face, And the things of earth will grow strangely dim, In the light of His glory
and grace.

Snow Day!

Just had to share the view from out our front door. We're so excited it snowed today! Yippee!

Life Lessons from Confetti

Observations about life from a New Year's Eve Celebration: Some party-goers use confetti, and some don't.

The confetti-tossers do so not at all concerned about the messy clean up afterward. Oh, they understand there will be quite a mess, but it's not such a deterrent that it would stop the celebration. These celebrants marvel in the colors, the variety of shapes, and the wonder of it all. The traces of confetti that are discovered weeks later, hidden in the crevices are happy reminders of the celebration.

The non-confetti-tossers abstain from using confetti because the prospect of the mess and lengthy clean-up convinces them it is better to avoid confetti at all costs. The very presence of confetti causes distress and worry. Should said NCT's (non-confetti-tossers) happen to be in the presence of confetti tossers and by default be showered with confetti, the hidden pieces later discovered in the NCT's hair or down their shirt is viewed as an irritant and abrasive.

What kind of life party-er are you? As for me, I want confetti to be a staple in my pantry!