Blessing of the Pipes

I (John) spent the better part of last Thursday afternoon under the house (now why didn't we press for that home warranty?) attempting to restore the kitchen sink to its previous state of drainage. First trip to Home Depot for a 25 foot drain snake--too short. Try the garden hose--big mess. Change clothes and make second trip to Home Depot for 50 foot drain snake--yes! But, while fishing the snake down the clogged drain, thoughts I had recently subconsciously absorbed drifted into my mind: some 74 million people in India have no bathrooms and no PVC pipes that allow them the conveniences we enjoy every day without a thought. There--staring at those conduits of grace, I was overtaken with a sense of blessing. Just a little encouragement to praise God for His overwhelming goodness in the small things. Hmmm...today I'm going to think about postage stamps...

Our Portraits

In the preface to a book on fasting, I recently read this profound statement: "The neglect of truth followed by its rediscovery often results in its overemphasis." ...AND "Truth is like a portrait, and to exaggerate one feature is to turn the portrait into a caricature of the truth." This may or may not be true of fasting today, but in a larger sense, it struck me that when we overemphasize one aspect of the truth and de-emphasize another, the world gets a distorted view of the truth. May we be faithful to paint realistic masterpieces--not modern interpretations--of the nature of our great God in an array of scenes in different play of light so the world around us will see Him as He really is and want to take up their own brushes and canvases!

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

Our new home, our new workplace, our new friends--our passion, purpose, and joy.

Chinese Checkers

"Jump". We call it Chinese Checkers. We regained an interest in this--what we consider--childhood game through the expertise of some of our Chinese friends and acquired multiple boards with marbles and pegs. In the move, I found a particularly nice one of these, but one of the pegs was missing so it has been demoted to the box going into the next sale. That is, unless that missing peg surfaces.

In a community of believers, if every peg is there, the "game" can be played, skills can be improved as the pegs are moved in relation to each other, and it's a very satisfying experience. If some of the crucial playing pieces are missing or stuck in one place, the "game" is seriously hindered (an inferior "sub" must be found) or written off as not worth playing. Hmmm...choose your color. Do you want to go first or do you want me to?

High Season in Razorback Country

We spent the day a week ago Saturday moving what we hope is our last big load of boxes and collapsed on the couch Saturday night to listen to the Alabama game--on the radio, since we sold our TVs in the garage sale. Yes, down by three touchdowns, the Hogs came roaring back and seemed to have everything well in hand until the final seconds when the home team....well, it's too sad. What looked like would happen didn't happen. And, of course, there was more sadness last week.

Monday morning reflection tempted us to think that somewhat described our experience lately--feeling behind where we had dreamed of being the last several years serving with a mission of some sort. Sensing God's rousing call, then taking the big steps to follow Him and watching Him work in amazing ways to put us "three touchdowns ahead" but then watching the opposition execute plays that seemed to be erasing our big lead. No one ever said living for the line would be easy, just rewarding in watching God work things out for His own glory and name. We have felt like His word to us from the first was to "stand firm."

This week, we've been watching and enjoying that transforming power of the Spirit in our thinking. We were able to make a quick trip to Clifton Park, New York, to see our next generation in action--Ella ("Melon") and Easton ("Mr. Buddy"). It was like a breath of fresh air to us, and He IS the air we breathe! He also used a little book by Henri Nouwen we read on the plane to realign our thinking in inviting people to come along with us with a common vision of community.

We remember thinking at the beginning of the summer, "Our target date to begin our new positions is the end of August, and we know God can make it happen but we really can't imagine how it will." Now, Sewall Architecture has drawn to a conclusion, we have moved, much of our support is raised. We feel like we are pulled back in a slingshot, looking forward to being released. Our call is sure, and our times are in His hand.

Week of Miracles

Right now, John and I are wondering where "home" really is. Tonight, we are camped out in John's office among boxes piled eye-level deep, which I hate to admit is what is left over after hauling two truckloads of furniture and boxes to our new home in Fayetteville and much selling and hauling off and giving away. What have we been thinking all these years to let this stuff pile up??? We are still referring to last week as the Week of Miracles, when the adrenaline was flowing and our friends were surfacing left and right to encourage us and do anything that needed to be done. There is NO WAY we could have done it by ourselves. We are totally in awe of the body of Christ at work and watching the unique gifts of our friends in full force, each one doing what he/she does best. Simply amazing. We are so blessed.

Crying and Singing

It has always been therapeutic for me to write, and this morning I need to write. In the midst of boxes and piled up furniture, the dramas of life are ongoing. One such drama for us is the sadness of being grandparents positionally but not being able to be grandparents experientially. We received some sad news last night that we will not be able to see our new little Easton and our continually evolving little Ella later this month as we had planned. At first, we were very stoic about it, but in the wee hours of the night, the stoicism dissolved into tears. First, I realized I was going through the stages of grief--shock, denial, anger...

I read the Spirit's own words back to Him, "I am restless in my complaint and am surely distracted..." "Oh that I had wings...I would fly away and be at rest."

But after listening patiently to me, the Lover of my soul whispered back to me, "Those tears are being stored in the bottle. Nestle under the shadow of My wing where peace and lovingkindness is rich and free."

"Because of You, my heart will not be shaken. Because You give me the strength to do it, I will sing of that strength to do so (Ps. 59). Even joyfully! You are my stronghold and I am getting to know the depths of your love by stepping behind it. You are incredibly personal and are showing me the sheer essence of Your love."

Yes, there are late night and early morning cries of a little boy in New York and I wish I was there to console him, but there is joy in the gift you've given me to pray that, as he grows, his tears will dissolve into joy in You. Love truly does bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, endure all things.