A Work Day

I work in our church office as a secretary.  Being a church, we get a LOT of people who come in off the street, looking for help of any kind. I hate to admit this, but usually I figure someone is lying, or they're trying to fool me so they can just get "more".  The stories are often very much the same. Ultimately, they're just looking for money.

I've been convicted a lot about my attitude regarding people who come in looking for money. Oh, the people might not all be on the up-and-up. They might not all be 100% truthful and honest. But, I've also seen that it's not my job to be the jury -- you know, the one who decides if what I'm hearing is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. That's God's job. My job? It's to love folks, regardless of how they look or smell, how they act or speak, whether I feel like they're deserving or not. The only thing that I'm responsible for is to show them Jesus.

Today, there was a young woman who was waiting at our closed and locked doors before the work day even began. She was carrying 3 plastic bags of clothes. No car. No cell phone. Her husband had kicked her out of the house and she had recently lost custody of her school-age daughter. The night before, she had slept in a field by our church.Yes, there had been some horribly wrong choices that she had made in her life journey ... and the time for reckoning seemed to be looming. She wept. She mourned. And my heart was drawn to hers.

We made some phone calls to see if there was a place she could stay. We talked and I shared with her that when we hit bottom, it's God's way of calling to us. It's actually a mercy, a salvation for us after our choices have done their destruction. He calls us to turn to Him for His saving. I've hit bottom before. I've had God open my eyes to who He is when I was feeling hopeless and helpless. I begged her: "When we're at the bottom, there's only one way to go ... and that's up, especially if we look to Jesus. Look up! Don't waste this time!"

She appeared to listen. But as time went on, I could see that she didn't particularly want my help -- not in the way I was offering it. She never asked for money though. Never asked for anything really -- other than to use the restroom to clean up and to use the phone to maybe find some shelters. She was impatient to leave. Her mind was whirling with all of the ways that she could control this situation and make it better. Before she left, I asked if I could pray for her and she told me yes, that it would probably make her feel better. I stood next to her and gently put my hand on her arm. She smiled at me, and I began to pray.

As soon as I opened my mouth to talk with our Father in prayer, she stiffened. I peeked at her and could see her hands had contorted in to something resembling claws that dug in to her legs. I continued praying, but she wasn't able to stand there with me. She apologized and began walking away, gathering up her plastic bags full of clothes, telling me she couldn't be here. She thanked me for being so kind, and walked off toward the road -- homeless and alone.

And I knew.

I knew that she had made some horrendous choices, all the while probably receiving some encouragement and help from the enemy. There's nothing he wants more than to ruin and destroy the people that God loves so very much. Sometimes, the enemy succeeds ... because we give him permission. Sometimes the enemy succeeds ... because His people don't stop to hear His voice. They want to be the jury and decide who is worth the salvation.

My prayer for her is that she will know and recognize that God is what she needs. My prayer for me was that this heart of mine, which can so often be mistrusting and skeptical, was a picture of the heart of Jesus today -- soft, welcoming, loving, accepting. So often I fail at that. My longing is for my heart to be like His.

Today, if you're reading this, please pray for Stacie (not her real name). Pray that she will come to know and understand how wide, how long, how high and how deep God's love is for her. Pray that she'll recognize the lies she is holding on to, and that she will let Jesus love her.

There's hope ... because there's Jesus.

Gracie

Meet Gracie.

We met Gracie 12 years ago quite by accident. She was living with a farmer who decided he didn't like her anymore, so he decided to shoot her. Something about her chasing cattle or something like that. If you knew Gracie like I know Gracie, you'd know that couldn't possibly be true. She was scared of her own shadow! Anyway, our youngest son thought that was absolutely horrible, so he brought her to our house so we could find her another home, since we already had 2 dogs living here at the time. The picture above? It was Gracie eating in our kitchen about 4 years ago. She never left. Not because we couldn't find a home for her, but because we turned down offers when people asked for her.

A rescue dog. Saved by grace. That's how she got her name. It wasn't that she was graceful (look how she's sitting!). But her life story is one of grace, and every time we said her name, we were reminded of the fact that she was rescued, saved, chosen, loved.

Gracie was the only female dog in a household of male dogs. There have been 5 male dogs that have been here at one time or the other ... and all of them acknowledged that Gracie was queen. She wasn't the loudest. She wasn't the strongest. She wasn't the fastest. But she was queen.

When Gracie first got to our home, she was about 2. She had been an outdoor dog, but took to living

in a nice, warm house immediately. She loved her doggy bed and blanket. She loved having her back scratched. She loved tiny dog biscuits and would do a little happy dance to get one. She loved rawhide bones and would remind us every night that it was time for her snack. She loved being with her people. She loved Pommer, our little Pug/Pomeranian puppy and she'd constantly clean his ears and eyes and groom him. She loved laying beside me -- and I can still can see her incredibly long eyelashes as she's laying on me, looking up at me. She loved barking at all of the male dogs, trying to get them to behave. She loved to be brushed. Well, that might be a stretch. I think it was more the attention that she loved than the brushing, but at least she'd put up with it.

Gracie hadn't been treated too well by the farmer where she had lived before. Loud noises and sudden moves scared her. One time, Wes crossed his leg and she flinched, like she thought he was going to kick her. People would come over to visit, and she'd hide, scared of anyone she didn't know. After 12 years of grandkids, Gracie would still hide under a chair when they'd come over, although they would patiently coax her out with a dog biscuit. Taking her to the vet or groomer would cause her to shake and she'd go in to a near panic.

Over the years, she relaxed a little bit, but never did she feel totally safe with people that weren't hers. And we were fine with that, because she had us so she was okay.

Gracie was my sweet girl puppy. Gracie Gray. Gracie Lou. Whatever she was called, she followed me from room to room. When I took a shower, she'd sleep outside the shower door until I emerged. When I cooked dinner, she laid behind a chair at the table. When I cleaned, she'd follow me and find a place to lay down in each room. When I'd have my devotions in the morning, she'd lay by my desk.

Yesterday, we were told by our vet that Gracie was dying. She had a large mass in her stomach, had lots incredible amounts of weight, was vomiting blood, and was so weak she couldn't move. We knew the best thing to do was to put her out of her misery and stop the suffering. As she was laying on the table at the vet's, she just stared at my face. Those big, brown eyes ringed with the long lashes never lost eye contact with me. No, she couldn't move. But, I was still her person ... and she was letting me know.

Our house has been lonely without her here. Her doggy bed and blanket in the living room look out of place. Her bowl has been strangely empty. When I would let Wylie in from the back yard, there was no Gracie excitedly dancing around, begging for a small dog treat. When I stepped out of the shower, I didn't have to watch to make sure she wasn't there.

And it has hurt.

Today, I was having my devotions -- no Gracie, just God and me. And I read a verse that jumped out at me: "When you were few in number and of little account..." from 1 Chronicles 16. My mind went to sweet Gracie. To the farmer, she was of little account, unimportant, rejected, abandoned. She meant nothing to him, but that didn't mean she was a nothing. That was a place where I could identify with Gracie because I had gone through the same thing -- of little account to some, but of precious value to Someone else. Both Gracie and I have gone through dark days of feeling alone and rejected.

But, we both were saved by grace. Gracie was rescued because someone saw her worth. Someone looked beyond to the precious little dog that she truly was. And me? I too was saved by grace. I too was loved, chosen, accepted and deemed of worth. Both of us were saved, received, and abundantly loved.

I'm going to miss my Gracie. She displayed some of God's characteristics -- loyalty, faithfulness, patience, grace. I can't help but think that she's running around the throne of heaven, following Jesus, sitting near Him just to be in His presence, hoping for a back scratch every now and then. She just likes to be with her people, and won't be any trouble. She's been a beautiful story of grace and mercy and reminds me that I'm just like her -- rescued and loved.

Gracie will always be a reminder to me of God and His grace to me. How grateful I am to have been her person.

God's Photo Shop

My husband and I just had our picture taken for our church directory. Both of us were really dreading having to go in to the photographer's. Wes was dreading it because he's not big on dressing up ... or smiling. It's not that he's a cranky guy. He's just not a "smiler". I, on the other hand, have all of these wrinkles laugh lines covering my face. I am extremely expressive. Once in a Bible study, I had a guy tell me that he just loved to watch my face as I talked. He never paid attention to anything I said -- he just liked to watch my face contort into all of its rubbery expressions. I think he meant that as a compliment? At least, that's how I chose to take it.  Anyway, I wasn't looking forward to having our picture taken because this will be our first directory as an "empty nest" couple. There wouldn't be any smiling, toothless grins (unless something drastic happened to Wes or me) ... no working with unsmiling teens who didn't want to be there ... no coordinating outfits for the whole family. Just Wes and me. And neither of us were too excited about going through this anyway.

We dutifully made our appointment and went to the photographer (basically because we're both cheapskates and we didn't want to have to pay for a directory. Everyone who had their picture taken got a free one). Our photographer asked us if we wanted some casual poses, like sitting barefoot on the floor. Right. Poor delusional man. We smiled at him and tried really hard not to let him know the huge amount of pity we felt for him. Since we are a middle-aged couple, we promptly axed that suggestion, basically because we knew there would be a serious possibility that we wouldn't be able to get up OFF of the floor. On top of that, my toenail polish desperately needed a touch-up and I was unprepared for my feet to be showing in the picture. "No, we'll just take the traditional, classic old-fogey poses, please." We smiled ... turned our heads this way ... held our shoulders that way ... sucked in our tummies ... and acted like we had a marvelous time. I was determined to not buy any of the pictures, but to just pick the pose for our now-free directory and leave. Wes had other ideas. Wes won.

Now that we've gotten the pictures back, I've got to say that I'm grateful Wes insisted on buying pictures. Yes, he was right and I was wrong. (For the record, he told me to write that last statement.) First of all, we actually look kind of cute as a couple. Sometimes it's easy to forget that we were a couple first BC (Before Children). We started out that way -- we're ending up that way, and honestly ... we look kind of cute that way! Secondly, I want to say I'm thankful for Photo Shop. If only Wal-Mart could bottle that as a cosmetic! Our photographer turned back the clock and we looked 20 years younger. We seriously don't look like we've lived through the teen years -- four different times! I don't know if he appreciated it, but I asked Jeff (he's become my dear and personal friend) to come and apply my make-up every day so I could look like my picture.

The strangest thing about all of this, though, is the fact that God taught me through all of our photographic experiences. I've been going on and on (and on and on!) about the fact that we look so much younger in our picture. The photographer, with his Photo Shop, was a true miracle worker (in my humble opinion). Then, God reminded me that HE has Photo Shopped my life. What started as a not-so-pretty canvas, God is turning in to a beautiful masterpiece. He's working to remove the impurities and uglies ... adding his beauty and grace ... and constantly striving to change my inner being from what it was to what He knows it can be. Do you know what's even better than that? As long as I'm living, He'll continue working. This isn't a one-shot picture, but a lifetime canvas. God is not finished with me ... thank You, Father! And then? We'll take it in to eternity, where He'll finish the job. :o)

It's funny, isn't it, the different ways that God teaches us?!? In the meantime, we rejoice that God is the True Photo Shopper (and we're thankful for good photographers here on earth, too!).

Conversations

There have been a lot of interesting conversations in my house this last week. Conversations like:
* what heaven will be like
* why the best "diets" are constantly changing (low-fat, low-carb) but they're ALL usually low-taste
* why God created ticks
* how the biggest tear-jerker movie of all time is "The Notebook"
* we're an hystically funny family -- to us, at least!
* what purpose do colors serve (other than just being pretty)
* who is better looking on So You Think You Can Dance -- Neal or Legacy
* why when we're so sleepy do we get giggly and silly
* why some people have knuckle-toes and some people have toes that look like link sausages
* how come the guy who built our house cut such corners and put everything in so sloppily
* why people say you "turn" 50 ... like the milk "turns" sour. Ugh! There's got to be a better term!
* in all of the places in the world to live, we live in Oklahoma - where there are tornadoes, ice storms, outrageous heat and humidity, hail the size of melons, and earthquakes
* wouldn't it be nice to be one of those people who look pretty when they cry instead of being spotted, swollen, and snotty
* how people and their animals have some of the same characteristics

But my favorite conversation of the week by far has got to be the one regarding God's grace. We've talked about how as man we struggle to believe in God and what He says. We get angry, we pout, we fight, and sometimes we might even to choose to walk away. Even then God doesn't turn away or reject us. He continues to go with us wherever we choose to take Him. It doesn't matter if our choice is a good one or a bad one; He goes with us. It doesn't matter if we're being loveable and honoring Him, or running as far away in the other direction as we can go; He loves us just the same. We will have to experience some discipline and consequences as a result of our choices, but it doesn't change how God feels about us. God welcomes our questioning. He wants to be with us in the struggle. He wants us. Period.

Talking about God's grace and love always brings me back to my favorite verse in Scripture: Hosea 6:6 (The Living Bible)
"I don't want your offerings; I want your love.
I don't want your sacrifices; I want you to know Me."

This verse just really brings God in to a clearer picture for me. He loves me. He wants to know me. And He's constantly showering His inexplicable grace upon His people. Honestly, this is one conversation that doesn't make sense to me. I don't understand the "why's" of His love and grace. I just know it's real. God's grace makes me want to know even more about Him ... makes me not want for there to be any barriers between us ... makes me want to trust Him and have faith even when I don't understand. There's a lot I DON'T understand (that was another conversation of the week, by the way!), but God does. And, it's okay. It really is -- because I know He's in control and He operates out of His glory and love. I might not know it all ... but I know enough to realize that I'm going to follow Him. There's no other place I'd rather be!!

Hiding From Me

A very wise man told me today, "I don't quite understand it, but I'm an expert at hiding from myself. When I refuse to see, I can't see it." Sounds like he was talking in riddles, but I knew exactly what he was saying. Why? Because I'm an expert at the same thing ... and I know others who are just like me. And when you're dealing with people who refuse to see, it absolutely breaks your heart. Hmmmm. Maybe like it breaks God's heart when I'm like that?!

David wrote, "Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me and know my anxious thoughts; and see if there be any hurtful way in me, and lead me in the everlasting way." (Psalm 19:23,24). Why? Because David didn't know himself as well as God did. David hid from himself as well, just as I do ... just as others do. Most of our lies aren't directed towards other people -- they're directed to ourselves, hiding what we don't want to see.

And this brings up so many more questions: Why do I hide? What am I hiding from? Why do I choose not to see? God can answer each of these questions. One thing that David DID do was to cling to the One that had all of the answers. God can't be fooled. Just because I choose to believe a lie doesn't mean that God has chosen to believe it as well. God's vision breaks through all of the hardness that I've built up around myself -- all of the lies I've wrapped myself in, all of the protecting walls that I've put up. He zeros in on the underlying issue and sees it as it is.

God delights when we ask Him to reveal things -- not because He's wanting to cause us grief and discomfort, but because He loves us and He wants the best for us. He wants to protect us from those hurtful things ... and oftentimes, the thing that hurts us the most is ourself. Kind if ironic, isn't it -- to need to protect me from me.

So, for today, I'm praying to see as God does. And if I've prayed for you today, I'm praying the same for you. Though there's pain in the revelation, there's grace ... and blessing ... and forgiveness ... and new beginnings. No matter how long I walk with God, I don't want there to be secrets that even I don't know about myself. I want His revelation and His light shining on the dark, secret places. I want to walk in the freedom of His grace. My prayer -- for me and for those I love.