Transformation

When I was under 20, I soooooo desperately wanted to be older. Man! Just the thought of that makes me want to go back in time and slap myself silly. I look at my children and grandchildren and see their flawless, beautiful skin without all of the wrinkles and age spots. Of course, if they're sitting too close to me, I can't see them all that well and have to scoot back a bit and let these middle-aged eyes adjust, but I KNOW their skin is beautiful because I've seen it before. They move gracefully without groaning when they stand up. They eat without worrying about coronary artery disease, widening hips, or expanding waistlines. Their hair is thick and luxurious, not fine and see-through. They can hear a whisper across the room without saying, "What? What did you say? Did you say something to me?" And THEIR ads on Facebook aren't about denture creams, retirement homes, and colonscopy discounts.

But that's always been me. When I was younger, I wanted to be older. Now that I'm older, I'd love to be younger again. I'm just hoping that when I'm dead, I'll be content with that. But I'm not going to be talking about that topic today (my dying) but instead, I'm going to be focusing more on being content. That's not particularly one of my favorite topics. I've discovered that I kind of like griping and complaining. Unfortunately, I can ALWAYS find something to gripe and complain about. The trick has been to make it a little humorous so everyone around me is laughing and enjoying my rants and raves. I've also discovered that when you present something that is ugly and unacceptable as humorous, it's much more widely accepted.

Whether I accept aging or not doesn't really matter. I'm doing it whether I like it or not ... unless I die, but that again is a topic I'm not talking about today. I have to admit it -- I'm getting older. I don't think I want to say I'm old. That makes me think of soured milk or the Crypt Keeper. I'm just aging. Sounds semi-acceptable, and excruciatingly true.

But with age comes wisdom. Yes, it's true. I actually have collected a little bit of wisdom in my 40+ ... okay, I'll admit it ... my 50 years. Sigh. I've learned that

• When my dad told me that money didn't grow on trees, it was actually true. I can't tell you how many times I've prayed for a money tree, and science has yet to find that particular species. Sad to say, but it's not out there.
• Water, regardless of what I thought, wasn't free when it came out of the faucet -- you had to pay for it. And now we actually pay for water in bottles? What next?! Paying for air? Oh yeah, we already do that, too! Oxygen bars, canned air for computers ...
• All of the "I'm sorry"s in the world don't take back hateful, angry words. Sometimes it's better to lose the fight and to keep your mouth shut.
• Just because I'm organized and I think things through in an orderly and logical fashion, doesn't mean I'm always right. And even if the person I'm disagreeing with isn't orderly, logical, or even anywhere close to it ... well, it doesn't make them automatically wrong. Even as I'm typing this, it doesn't make sense to me. I just know it's true because I've learned it along the way.
• Boys really DO think differently than we girls do. They don't outgrow it. They just become men who continue to think differently.
• What we look like on the outside isn't what God sees. He sees the heart and the intent. He looks deep within to our thoughts. That's maybe the scariest thing to me, because the deeper I go, I think the uglier I get. Amazingly enough though, He loves me through and through ...as deep as He can go.
• Friends come and go. Money comes and goes. Jobs come and go. Family is the closest thing to permanence that we have on this earth. We need to treasure it and nurture it.
• Just because I don't like something that is happening, doesn't make it not happen. God doesn't sit on His throne and worry if I'm going to like what He does in my life. He just asks me to trust and go along on the roller coaster of life with Him. His eyes, unlike mine, haven't gotten weaker. He still sees the big picture and knows what's ahead.
• No matter where I go or what I do, I take God with me. He has promised to never leave me or forsake me and I've lived in a way where I've seen that to be true. I tried to run from Him for years, and He'd remind me of His presence in the most inopportune moments. I hated it at the time, but it's like my eternal security blanket now.

So, yeah, I guess my thought today is that I'm very obviously older. My mirror tells me that everyday. I have a son or two that does the same thing. I've learned through years of pain and experiences, and honestly, I don't think I could have learned it any other way. I'd like to think that when God looks at me, He doesn't see the spider veins and blubbery tummy, but instead He sees someone who deep inside is transforming more and more into a likeness of Him. The transformation process isn't quick ... or fun. But, it IS a transformation. I AM learning. And God is definitely patient to teach me things from the daily and mundane to the deep and spiritual.

So, in the next 20 or 30 years, when I'm reading this blog while wearing my dentures and hearing aids, I'll probably say I want to come back and knock myself silly with my cane. Or maybe, just maybe, I'll just smile and realize that the transformation is still continuing, God is still teaching, and I am still learning.

Cool? I Think Not ...

Okay, I realize it. I am not cool. I used to think I was ... but no longer. There was a time years ago when I dressed cool ... talked cool ... looked cool ... and was just plain cool. Now? Well, not so much.

When I was younger, we all wore these skin-tight blue jeans. So tight, in fact, that I had to lay down on the bed to zip them up. I even had a friend who kept a pair of pliers by her bed to grab on to her zipper so she could zip her pants up. Yep, we were cool. Gorgeous and cool in our skin-tight jeans. We'd slither and slink through school or the clubs, knowing that we were absolutely amazing and everyone else wanted to be us. We had the "cool" look: skinny, dressed in jeans that looked like they were painted on, silky shirts, high heels, and big hair. Shoot forward to the present. If I were put into skin-tight jeans now, I'd look like a sausage wrapped in bread wrapped in another piece of bread wrapped in Saran Wrap. Not pleasant. Now I live in elastic waisted athletic shorts (the roomier, the better), baggie t-shirts, messy hair, and flip-flops (that we used to call thongs, by the way.) Definitely not cool.

Back in my cool days, I'd stay up all night long, wearing my skin-tight jeans dancing the night away in my Candy heels. We danced The Hustle or mimicked the dances off of Saturday Night Fever, mouthing all of the words along with Barry Gibbs. Now, I'm yawning at 9:00 ... and darn proud of myself if I make it to 11:00 without falling asleep on the couch. The most embarrassing part about being uncool and having to go to bed early is that when I DO stay up late, I wind up getting the sleepy sillies. I'll laugh at the most ridiculous things, and it's not just a polite little laugh, but a snorty, bellowing guffaw. Then, usually I wind up in hysterics, alternating between snorting, crying, hiccuping, and shrieking. My family usually hides from me when I'm in this state of mind and just encourages me to go to bed. Yep, not cool at all.

There was a time when the way I spoke would let people know I was up-to-date and obviously cool. I knew all of the latest slang and when to use it in the most appropriate way. And, I understood what everyone else was saying, too. I also vaguely remember laughing at people over 30 who said "neato" and "keen" or "groovy". I have learned that cool language, once again, is not the case for me anymore. It's not cool to tell people that you're "fixing to" go to the store. If you say a boat was "tumped over" or someone's shirt is "tucked out", you get some mighty strange looks. You don't roll up a "winda", you don't use a "yella" crayon, and you definitely don't eat "bowled aigs" (boiled eggs, for those of you that need an interpreter). You don't call people "cutie patooties", you don't laugh when someone "toots", and you don't mention your "bottom" or your "tummy". To me, bad is really bad ... phat is just plain stupid ... and hot is another one of those danged hot flashes. My language, according to my family, has seemed to evolve over the years to a mixture of backwoods hillbilly refugee and old fogie (another old person term, by the way).

Nope, I'm not cool anymore. Strangely enough, it's really fine. My four-year-old grandbaby thinks I'm hilarious and incredibly awesome and pretty and all kinds of wonderful adjectives. Cool is really seriously overrated ... unless, of course, you ARE experiencing one of those ridiculous hot flashes and then it's really awesome!

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!!

God's Antibiotic

It's been two different times now that I've heard from a doctor that my daughter's life had been saved by some sort of medical procedure. Once was 14 years ago after she developed complications after a ruptured appendix, and the second time was a few days ago when she was diagnosed with Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever and treated aggressively and quickly. If you think about that, we've all taken antibiotics, so technically we've all been "saved" at one time or another, right?! But to have a doctor tell you that your daughter was critical and her life was very well saved by quick action from another doctor or a new medical procedure -- well, honestly that's really scary to hear. It's encouraging ... it's a moment of thankfulness ... but scary!

And I keep thinking about all of the things that God has in store for my daughter. I'm not saying that she's going to cure world hunger,or that she's going to find the answer to world peace (although she's really cute and funny. That has nothing to do with anything -- I just wanted to throw it out there!). But God obviously has a special plan and purpose for her. That might simply be to be a godly wife and mother and to train up the next generation for the Lord, and that's a wonderful calling! It might be to counsel other women in their marriages and family relationships. Who knows? But, it's her own specific purpose, planned out for her by the Father. Of course, her "general purpose" (if you want to call it that) is to walk with her Lord in fellowship and worship Him -- just as it is MY general purpose.

We moms need to pray intensely for our children -- that they will look to God for their purpose, that they will choose to follow Him and walk according to His Word ... and we need to help set that example. Honestly, there's a fate worse than ruptured appendix complications or Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, and that's a wasted life lived apart from the Lord. But even then, God ALWAYS has the "antibiotic" ready. What a great God we serve!!

Our Path

When my husband and I got married, we were put on a path. We were young and in love so we didn't particularly care WHAT path it was or WHERE it was going ... we were together, and that was enough.



We're older now ... hopefully wiser ... and the path has been an interesting one -- one that I'm very grateful for. I've been grateful for my incredible husband and the One Who has walked with us every step of the way.



Then we had children. And boy, did those children add twists and turns to our path! Twists, turns, ups, down, sharp corners, dizzying speeds, highs, and lows ... but again, we've all been together and that's been good.



We've grown older with our children (maybe BECAUSE of our children!), but we've learned so much more than we could have learned on our own. We've learned how to bend and not break ... how to work together as a couple ... how to love and forgive ... how to look past the moment and in to what God's doing in the future. It's been good.



And then God outdid Himself! He not only added a grandbaby to our family ... He added color to our path. Suddenly, all of the twists and turns, the sharp corners, the highs and the lows were in vivid, breathtaking colors. What beauty He added!! What joy He has multiplied!



Having a grandbaby has taught us to slow down and enjoy the simple things -- like lady bugs ... or bubble baths ... or fireworks. We've seen that God intends for us to experience great joys in this life, to relish the small moments, to take joy in the every day instances.



And God just continues to add to this path that we're on. Coming from a person who likes to be in total control and to know everything that's going on, the path has sometimes been rough. Yet, it's been a path that has led to our learning and growth, our being stretched, our being blessed. Can't wait to see what else He has in store!

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.

He's Just a Dog

We had to put our 17 1/2 year old dog Snooker down today. He was blind ... deaf ... had developed doggy dementia ... had cancer ... was having accidents in the house ... and wasn't eating. Each day that went by, he continued to grow worse. After talking to our vet, my husband knew this was something that needed to be done, so he made an appointment. We said our tearful goodbyes, took off his collar, and Wes left with Snooker. I kept saying to myself, "He's just a dog!"

But he didn't feel so much like a dog when ...

... he'd play outside with my kids when they were little and bark a warning when someone came up to our fence.

... he got hit by a car and we rushed his mangled, unconscious body to the vet.

... he'd wrestle with stuffed toys that were larger than he was.

... he woke us up at 4:30 in the morning for a dog biscuit.

... he'd tear up Mikaela's Barbies if she left them out. Mikaela was the only kiddo we had that Snooker would "pick on". Maybe because she'd dress him up in ridiculous baby clothes?! His attitude towards her changed over the years though and eventually he decided she was okay.

... he'd sit by my chair every morning while I had my daily quiet time. He didn't want anything other than just to be sitting by me.

... he'd have horrible, rancid gas -- look at us as if he were blaming us for it, and then walk out of the room.

... he'd pace the kitchen while I cooked, eagerly hoping I'd drop something, ANYTHING that he could pounce on and eat. But you know, that dog would WAIT for my permission to eat it. If I told him no, he'd lay there by the food and wouldn't eat it. He was always pretty happy to be able to clean up any spills for me though.

... he'd sleep ON my feet in bed -- not NEXT to my feet, not CLOSE to my feet, but ON my feet. Snooker made the rounds over the years, blessing everyone in our family with his presence as they slept.

... he'd greet us at the door when we came home like he hadn't seen us in years. He loved us totally and unconditionally. He thought we were incredible!

The fact is that we let that dog worm his way into our family and in to our hearts. Today, Snooker doesn't seem like "just a dog". We've lost a family member ...