I'm praising God that the bad weather has moved out of Memphis for the time being, and I'm saying a prayer for those who are in its path. There is a lot of destruction in the south right now.
My overprotective mother, whom I love dearly, has finally deemed it safe for me to sleep in my second-floor apartment. I wonder if her tendency to, um, overreact when bad weather strikes has something to do with my general feeling of nervousness over the past couple of days. It's nice to be watching basketball instead of scary weather maps for a change. I felt like I was starting to develop a friendship with the local meteorologist. (Although watching the Grizzlies play is currently making me very nervous. I can't get a break.)
I don't have a good segue for this... I have never given much thought to the concept of angels. I know they appear in the Bible, and I know many people believe in guardian angels, but it's just not something I have studied much about. Nor do I place much stock in the idea that our ancestors watch over us or interact with what goes on here on earth. But I have had moments, and I know my mom has too, because we've talked about it, where I can feel the presence of my late grandpa. My mom's parents were always around when I was growing up. They lived around the corner, and we saw them pretty much every day. They both passed away when I was in college.
Grandpa was, simply put, a really cool guy. He used to have a British sports car, and he would let my brother and me ride in it every year in the town Christmas parade. We were lucky if the engine held out until the end of the parade route, but we loved it. Grandpa could make anything, I was convinced. He made all of my doll furniture, which I still have, and a little wooden pontoon boat that had my name carved on it (pretty sure I still have that too). He is responsible for my love of Tervis tumblers. And my love of gadgets. He used to "trick out" his car by velcro-ing things inside it, like a trash can in the back seat. He even had a piece of velcro on the dash board to hold his money clip. I joke that my inheritance from him was a box of velcro. Actually, I'm only half joking. I really do have his old velcro box! And I've used it many times!
My grandpa was not very tech savvy. For a man who loved gadgety things, he certainly could not handle high-tech gadgets. He carried an old Nokia cell phone, and he taped a list of frequently dialed numbers to the outside of it. No point explaining that he could actually save the numbers inside the phone! But I loved that about him. This long story does have a point, which is that one day, years ago, I found him painstakingly creating a map of Shelby County and the surrounding counties. I'm pretty sure I had to type the county names for him (he and the computer were never friends). Then he glued them all into place, made copies, and began distributing these Mid-South maps to everyone he knew. He said they were for weather warnings--so that when the meteorologist reported weather conditions in a nearby county, he could easily locate the area they were talking about. I laughed it off. What a silly idea! (Just google it, right?)
Yesterday evening, as my family and I were preparing for more bad weather, I walked into the kitchen and found my mom in there... She was listening to the weatherman (who was reporting storms in some unheard-of counties) and studying that county map, which has been taped to the inside of a cabinet door for years. I cracked up. Who knew that old, low-tech, cut-and-paste map would actually come in handy?! There was something really comforting about seeing and using that old map. It really was one of those moments where I felt like Grandpa was looking down on us, possibly saying "I told you so," and reassuring us that we would be safe. I can't explain it any more than that. Those moments occur at the strangest times. But the thought that he was there with us calmed my fears and made me a lot less nervous than I had been the night before. Maybe I should go make myself a copy of that map...
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Storing up treasures in heaven... except for shoes. I love my shoes.
I was laughing earlier with a friend about how my last blog post probably didn't make any sense. (She inspired the title of this post--I told her I spent time saying goodbye to my apartment during a tornado warning yesterday, and that while I know I should store up treasures in heaven, I will really miss my shoes if they blow away in a storm!) I wrote the last post during a tornado warning, sitting in a pile of laundry at the bottom of my closet, listening to live feed of the local weatherman, and trying really hard to concentrate on God instead of on my mounting panic. I just went back and read it, and I was surprised to discover that I didn't sound nearly as scattered as I felt. I made it safely out of the storm and I still have all those same questions about discernment... and now there's yet another night of bad weather heading our way, so really this week has come full circle. I'm back where I started.
When did I become so afraid of storms? I used to love them. I loved listening to the rain and counting the seconds between the lightning and the claps of thunder. I loved a power outage, as long as it didn't last too long. Growing up in Tornado Alley, I have many fond memories of reading by flashlight as we hunkered down in the back stairway or the downstairs bathroom. Maybe it's because I live by myself... or because I live on the second floor... or because I can't tear myself away from the TV and those scary weather maps... whatever it is, I have become extremely nervous about bad weather.
I think we're suffering from bad weather information overload. A few weeks ago, we had a tornado warning during the school day, and we had to evacuate all the children into the halls. It looked downright terrifying outside--there had to be something out there. But I stayed calm. I encouraged kids who looked scared, I explained the difference between tornado watches and warnings to some inquisitive third grade girls, I chatted with coworkers. I'd like to think I did all of this because I understood the importance of remaining calm and looking unworried in front of the children, but I don't think that was it. I really think it was just because I had no idea what was going on outside. Did you know that meteorologists can track a storm's location to the exact street? That's crazy! I found my exact location on Google Maps yesterday, compared it with the weather map on TV, and decided I wasn't moving to my safe spot until my exact street was under attack. The weather people are making me neurotic. The tornado sirens went off yesterday not because a tornado had actually been spotted, but because the weather radar indicated that conditions may in the future produce something resembling a tornado. What...? Today, the national weather service has basically created a new color on the map to emphasize how much danger we are all in. In case you're wondering what's worse than red, it's white. What on earth is coming our way?! We have about four hours until this tornadopocalypse happens, and I don't know what to do with myself. I'm a nervous wreck. If only I didn't know what was coming!
And, funny, the one thing I never remember to do when I get in storm panic mode is take it to God. I get too worked up to ask Him to calm me down. It makes me think of that song-"No storm can shake my inmost calm, while to this Rock I'm clinging..." I'm praying today for safety for the Mid-South, and I'm praying that I will spend tonight remembering to cling to my Rock, instead of worrying about weather events that are entirely out of my control.
When did I become so afraid of storms? I used to love them. I loved listening to the rain and counting the seconds between the lightning and the claps of thunder. I loved a power outage, as long as it didn't last too long. Growing up in Tornado Alley, I have many fond memories of reading by flashlight as we hunkered down in the back stairway or the downstairs bathroom. Maybe it's because I live by myself... or because I live on the second floor... or because I can't tear myself away from the TV and those scary weather maps... whatever it is, I have become extremely nervous about bad weather.
I think we're suffering from bad weather information overload. A few weeks ago, we had a tornado warning during the school day, and we had to evacuate all the children into the halls. It looked downright terrifying outside--there had to be something out there. But I stayed calm. I encouraged kids who looked scared, I explained the difference between tornado watches and warnings to some inquisitive third grade girls, I chatted with coworkers. I'd like to think I did all of this because I understood the importance of remaining calm and looking unworried in front of the children, but I don't think that was it. I really think it was just because I had no idea what was going on outside. Did you know that meteorologists can track a storm's location to the exact street? That's crazy! I found my exact location on Google Maps yesterday, compared it with the weather map on TV, and decided I wasn't moving to my safe spot until my exact street was under attack. The weather people are making me neurotic. The tornado sirens went off yesterday not because a tornado had actually been spotted, but because the weather radar indicated that conditions may in the future produce something resembling a tornado. What...? Today, the national weather service has basically created a new color on the map to emphasize how much danger we are all in. In case you're wondering what's worse than red, it's white. What on earth is coming our way?! We have about four hours until this tornadopocalypse happens, and I don't know what to do with myself. I'm a nervous wreck. If only I didn't know what was coming!
And, funny, the one thing I never remember to do when I get in storm panic mode is take it to God. I get too worked up to ask Him to calm me down. It makes me think of that song-"No storm can shake my inmost calm, while to this Rock I'm clinging..." I'm praying today for safety for the Mid-South, and I'm praying that I will spend tonight remembering to cling to my Rock, instead of worrying about weather events that are entirely out of my control.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Confusion and discernment... but mostly just confusion.
I'm sitting in my closet right now, waiting out a tornado warning... what better time to type some thoughts about God than when I'm surrounded by his terrifying, awesome storm? And funny that as I sit here waiting, the subject of waiting, and of listening to God, has been heavy on my heart.
I think that even early on in my life, God was amused by my attempt to make my own plans. When I was in grade school and people asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up, my answer was always, "Anything but a teacher!" He's really laughing it up now, I bet.
But what do you know... I'm in my fifth year of being an educator, and I can't imagine that God would have made me anything else. I fought him for a long time--all the way to grad school, in fact--but looking back, I sure am glad I finally put my own plans aside and listened to what He wanted.
One of the hardest things for me to do is to surrender my plans and rely fully on God. In every situation. I just have a hard time with the idea that I should pray boldly for what I want, yet still pray for His plans to be made known to me. How do those two things go together? I feel sometimes like I am in a period of waiting. I'm praying for things, waiting patiently for answers (well... as patiently as I can), and trying to be obedient while I discern his answers.
And discernment... that's a discipline--a gift, even--that I'm not sure I have. I'm so full of doubt and worry and second-guessing. How do I know if I'm hearing His answers? How do I know that I'm asking the right questions? And, oh my goodness, I'm so worried about what will happen if he tells me no!
I don't have any answers here (surprised?) I'm just sitting in a closet, worried about things that I need to surrender to God, and listening for His voice among the howling winds outside. Hopefully the wind will die down soon and I'll hear His voice in the silence...
I think that even early on in my life, God was amused by my attempt to make my own plans. When I was in grade school and people asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up, my answer was always, "Anything but a teacher!" He's really laughing it up now, I bet.
But what do you know... I'm in my fifth year of being an educator, and I can't imagine that God would have made me anything else. I fought him for a long time--all the way to grad school, in fact--but looking back, I sure am glad I finally put my own plans aside and listened to what He wanted.
One of the hardest things for me to do is to surrender my plans and rely fully on God. In every situation. I just have a hard time with the idea that I should pray boldly for what I want, yet still pray for His plans to be made known to me. How do those two things go together? I feel sometimes like I am in a period of waiting. I'm praying for things, waiting patiently for answers (well... as patiently as I can), and trying to be obedient while I discern his answers.
And discernment... that's a discipline--a gift, even--that I'm not sure I have. I'm so full of doubt and worry and second-guessing. How do I know if I'm hearing His answers? How do I know that I'm asking the right questions? And, oh my goodness, I'm so worried about what will happen if he tells me no!
I don't have any answers here (surprised?) I'm just sitting in a closet, worried about things that I need to surrender to God, and listening for His voice among the howling winds outside. Hopefully the wind will die down soon and I'll hear His voice in the silence...
Sunday, April 17, 2011
The blessing and burden of prayer
I was fortunate last weekend to spend some quality time with a great group of teenage girls. Over dinner, they shared with me their belief that having Christian friends doesn't mean that their conversations and their times spent together always have to be focused on God. Perhaps this comment was made to justify the random ramblings they find themselves in during their small group Bible study. (On a side note, those rambling conversations are always the best, aren't they?) I think it is wonderful that these girls want to spend time together in and outside of church. I think it's great that they have a group of Christian friends with whom they prefer to spend their time. It seems awfully mature for teenagers to come to the realization that fellowship with other believers can be casual and fun.
In the past, I have been guilty of compartmentalizing my friends. In college, I had party friends, church friends, psychology major friends, music department friends, and dorm friends. Those groups didn't really overlap, except for those random times when someone from my abnormal psych class would show up at my friends' Halloween party. Even in high school I had separate church friends and school friends. As I've grown older and settled into my post-college life, I have come to know the joy of having meaningful, Christ-centered friendships. I have close friends at work with whom I can discuss matters of faith. I have close friends at church with whom I can have a good time. And I love when my worlds collide and new friendships are formed.
I agree with the girls I mentioned before--not all time spent with Christian friends has to be spent studying the Bible. But you miss out on some wonderful opportunities for growth if you don't open yourself up to some Christ-centered discussion and reflection. One of the greatest joys of Christian friendship is prayer, and this is not something I've always been comfortable with. As I hinted in the title of this post, I see prayer as a blessing but sometimes a burden as well. I have mentioned before that it has been difficult in the past for me to share my prayer requests with others. That's the "burden" part. I often feel like I am imposing, like I'm asking too much of my friends when I pile my personal prayer requests on top of them. Are my problems too insignificant to warrant asking for prayers? What if my friends are dealing with more serious issues than I am? I don't want to burden them with my problems.
On the other hand, being connected to others through shared prayer is such a blessing. I love praying intentionally, and I like having specific causes and people to lift up. I am so thankful for the opportunity to show my love for my friends by taking on their burdens, by praying for them and their struggles. The truly beautiful moments in Christian friendship occur when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable in front of our friends. God gave us to each other to make the journey... well, I was going to say easier, but I don't think that's the right word. More interesting, maybe. More meaningful. Proverbs 27:17 says, "As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." And in Ecclesiastes 4:12: "A cord of three strands is not easily broken." God clearly has plans in mind for us when he gives us to each other in friendship. I'm so thankful for the ways my friends have sharpened me and strengthened me. I'm thankful for the friends who allow me to be raw and broken and vulnerable, and who trust and love me enough to be vulnerable in front of me.
Winnie the Pooh always sums friendship up perfectly. Here are a few gems to wrap this up, because honestly, that bear always says exactly what I'm thinking.
"You can't stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes."
"If there ever comes a day when we can't be together, keep me in your heart, I'll stay there forever."
And, of course, the best for last:
"It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn't use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words like 'What about lunch?'"
In the past, I have been guilty of compartmentalizing my friends. In college, I had party friends, church friends, psychology major friends, music department friends, and dorm friends. Those groups didn't really overlap, except for those random times when someone from my abnormal psych class would show up at my friends' Halloween party. Even in high school I had separate church friends and school friends. As I've grown older and settled into my post-college life, I have come to know the joy of having meaningful, Christ-centered friendships. I have close friends at work with whom I can discuss matters of faith. I have close friends at church with whom I can have a good time. And I love when my worlds collide and new friendships are formed.
I agree with the girls I mentioned before--not all time spent with Christian friends has to be spent studying the Bible. But you miss out on some wonderful opportunities for growth if you don't open yourself up to some Christ-centered discussion and reflection. One of the greatest joys of Christian friendship is prayer, and this is not something I've always been comfortable with. As I hinted in the title of this post, I see prayer as a blessing but sometimes a burden as well. I have mentioned before that it has been difficult in the past for me to share my prayer requests with others. That's the "burden" part. I often feel like I am imposing, like I'm asking too much of my friends when I pile my personal prayer requests on top of them. Are my problems too insignificant to warrant asking for prayers? What if my friends are dealing with more serious issues than I am? I don't want to burden them with my problems.
On the other hand, being connected to others through shared prayer is such a blessing. I love praying intentionally, and I like having specific causes and people to lift up. I am so thankful for the opportunity to show my love for my friends by taking on their burdens, by praying for them and their struggles. The truly beautiful moments in Christian friendship occur when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable in front of our friends. God gave us to each other to make the journey... well, I was going to say easier, but I don't think that's the right word. More interesting, maybe. More meaningful. Proverbs 27:17 says, "As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." And in Ecclesiastes 4:12: "A cord of three strands is not easily broken." God clearly has plans in mind for us when he gives us to each other in friendship. I'm so thankful for the ways my friends have sharpened me and strengthened me. I'm thankful for the friends who allow me to be raw and broken and vulnerable, and who trust and love me enough to be vulnerable in front of me.
Winnie the Pooh always sums friendship up perfectly. Here are a few gems to wrap this up, because honestly, that bear always says exactly what I'm thinking.
"You can't stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes."
"If there ever comes a day when we can't be together, keep me in your heart, I'll stay there forever."
And, of course, the best for last:
"It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn't use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words like 'What about lunch?'"
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Sandpaper.
I shared this story with some youth on Sunday night, and I decided to share it here too, just so I can talk more about how God is amazing!
As I've mentioned a zillion times, this past year has been one of incredible growth for me. One pivotal moment during this time was the Sunday that our minister preached about Sandpaper People. I wish I had the transcript of this sermon to share, because he said it a lot better than I ever could. Basically, as followers of Christ, we are called to love, but there are inevitably some people who are just hard to love. For whatever reason, we all know people who are tiring, trying, who rub us the wrong way--they are our "sandpaper people." I know these people. They are my neighbors, my coworkers, sometimes even my friends. I'm impatient and I struggle with extending grace to those who frustrate me or who don't make my life easier; therefore, I have lots of sandpaper people. I'm not proud of that. My way of dealing with these people, should I get to the point where I want to do something about it, is to pray something like, "Dear God, please don't let so-and-so get on my nerves today." Surprisingly (ha), that doesn't work.
Our minister offered a solution in his sermon: we are called to pray for our sandpaper people. Not the selfish prayer I was offering up, but an honest, heartfelt prayer about each person. I was resistant to this at first. I didn't want to spend my time praying for people I don't like! But I got to a point where I really didn't have another choice. So I chose a couple of sandpaper people to start with, and every night before I went to bed, I would say a prayer for those people. Something along the lines of "Please work in so-and-so's life and help him/her live out your plan." It was a small gesture, but I did it every day. I wasn't sure what I expected to happen... and I shouldn't have been surprised when I started to notice a change. The people I was praying for weren't changing--not in ways I could detect, anyway. My heart was changing. I've always been a little skeptical of people who say things like, "God changed my heart!" I don't know why... probably because I'd never really noticed that happening. (Not that it wasn't happening; I just wasn't open and receptive to it.) I don't know if I can fully explain how this little experiment has changed me. I am more tolerant and more patient of these people who push my buttons... but more than that, I have found that it is possible, and not difficult, for me to love them. What a blessing!
I encourage you to try this. If there is someone in your life who tends to rub you the wrong way, pray for them. Truly pray for that person, an unselfish and honest prayer. Do this constantly. And I promise, your heart will be changed. If God can change my hard heart, I have no doubt that He can change yours too.
As I've mentioned a zillion times, this past year has been one of incredible growth for me. One pivotal moment during this time was the Sunday that our minister preached about Sandpaper People. I wish I had the transcript of this sermon to share, because he said it a lot better than I ever could. Basically, as followers of Christ, we are called to love, but there are inevitably some people who are just hard to love. For whatever reason, we all know people who are tiring, trying, who rub us the wrong way--they are our "sandpaper people." I know these people. They are my neighbors, my coworkers, sometimes even my friends. I'm impatient and I struggle with extending grace to those who frustrate me or who don't make my life easier; therefore, I have lots of sandpaper people. I'm not proud of that. My way of dealing with these people, should I get to the point where I want to do something about it, is to pray something like, "Dear God, please don't let so-and-so get on my nerves today." Surprisingly (ha), that doesn't work.
Our minister offered a solution in his sermon: we are called to pray for our sandpaper people. Not the selfish prayer I was offering up, but an honest, heartfelt prayer about each person. I was resistant to this at first. I didn't want to spend my time praying for people I don't like! But I got to a point where I really didn't have another choice. So I chose a couple of sandpaper people to start with, and every night before I went to bed, I would say a prayer for those people. Something along the lines of "Please work in so-and-so's life and help him/her live out your plan." It was a small gesture, but I did it every day. I wasn't sure what I expected to happen... and I shouldn't have been surprised when I started to notice a change. The people I was praying for weren't changing--not in ways I could detect, anyway. My heart was changing. I've always been a little skeptical of people who say things like, "God changed my heart!" I don't know why... probably because I'd never really noticed that happening. (Not that it wasn't happening; I just wasn't open and receptive to it.) I don't know if I can fully explain how this little experiment has changed me. I am more tolerant and more patient of these people who push my buttons... but more than that, I have found that it is possible, and not difficult, for me to love them. What a blessing!
I encourage you to try this. If there is someone in your life who tends to rub you the wrong way, pray for them. Truly pray for that person, an unselfish and honest prayer. Do this constantly. And I promise, your heart will be changed. If God can change my hard heart, I have no doubt that He can change yours too.
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