Isn't it funny how things turn out? Facebook, as I'm sure it does for many people, keeps me in an almost constant state of retrospect. Five or ten years ago, ahead of social media, it was easy to forget people (read: experiences) from the past. Now, by my own choice, I daily see names and faces of people I haven't seen in years. Chances are, I won't ever physically see them again, barring the extremely unlikely event that I attend my high school reunion.
Depending on the name, I am taken to the halls of Borah High School in Boise, Idaho. Occasionally, an experience tied to a certain individual will take me further back, even to West Junior High (shudder). Others cause a flashback to the University of Idaho campus and the Pi Phi Palace. Some are more recent, like the SFA campus in Nacogdoches, Texas, and just yesterday I communicated with someone I interned with at cue:creative in Tyler, Texas. Some associations are positive, others move me to the serious consideration of lobotomy. Regardless, they are all people and experiences that are a part of who I am today. Every memory shapes me, and I find it so interesting to look back over these chapters in my life and try to get into my own head back then. I never would have imagined I'd be where I am today, not geographically, professionally, socially, or spiritually.
I was an extremely selfish, stupid, and insecure individual in high school. If I could go back, I would do it just for the sheer purpose of being nicer to people. There's a lot to be said for a smile. Oh, how offering one to others at crucial times might have changed things a bit. Wisdom like "show yourself friendly" or "keep your mouth shut" were wasted on me then, but now I see so clearly what they mean, and how the advice is best and most simply applied. If I'd obeyed the latter, I might not have lost a car window and an insurance suit during my freshman year of college.
I was an extremely selfish, stupid, and insecure individual in college, too. I was a mess - the first two years anyway. Made excellent grades and bad decisions. Reputation was something I didn't think much about, I felt it didn't have any weight of importance for the long term. God took care of me, though. He gave me a fresh start in a new place. I couldn't be what I am today in proximity to that past life, and He knew that. I have absolutely no control over what people think of me, but I do have control over what I think of them. I figure forgiveness and a non-judgmental attitude balance the scales. Just this minute while writing this it's so clear to me what God was up to. What an awesome and wise Heavenly Father I have.
Once I got to Texas I started getting some sense talked into my dense head. Still messed up on a daily basis for roughly five years in a row. Now I mess up, but I generally realize it pretty quickly and make it right. "Success is a journey, not a destination." We've all heard that, right? The same rings true for a walk with God. I didn't cross the Texas state line and instantly turn into a saint. Living for Him is a process, and I learn new things every day. My first years at it were a mess, because I was young and still wanted to fit in somewhere else. I made mistakes, ruined opportunities to witness, and tried to earn my salvation, instead of just receiving it. But, time and love were applied to my confusion, and although I have questions and trials all the time, I now have this wonderful open line of communication with my Creator. Even when the answer doesn't come right away, I know He's working on it, and I have peace - the kind of peace that only comes with full trust in, and surrender to someone else.
I can't explain in words to anyone what true liberty is like, but I hope my life is an explanation. My God is so good to me. Whatever is between the lines in the paragraphs above, it’s erased. I may remember it, you may remember it, but He doesn't. And His opinion is the only one that matters in the long run.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
An emotional rhapsody
I'm listening to Matt Redman. Right now "You Alone Can Rescue" is playing, and I plan to listen to it again. Every single time I sit down to write a blog, I take a few moments and search, and listen for a still, small voice to tell me what I need to say. I try my best to be obedient. I never know if what I write will touch someone who reads it, but I'm always blessed by the thought I'm given. It's humbling and awe-inspiring to hear the voice of God. I can't come up with most of this stuff on my own. "To you alone belongs the highest praise" - that's the final line of the song, which just ended. Talk about timing.
Music is so powerful. It can put us in another place, another time, it can make a fading memory burn bright and invoke an emotion or desire thought forgotten. It can inspire a person, bring them joy, or drive them to tears. It can bring praise to someone's lips, or influence them to make poor decisions. I believe music has had all of these effects on me at one time or another.
I love music. I assign a lot of importance to it. I can look at the long list of songs in my iTunes library and identify a memory or emotion with just about all of them. I've listened to three tonight, in the past hour or so, that all point to my two very good friends.
One friend is actually my cousin, and probably the human being on this earth I'm closest to, although I wouldn't have always admitted it. The other is her Marine husband who was killed in Afghanistan this past May.
My music library is organized alphabetically, and oddly enough that places the first and second songs that reference them right next to each other. One is uplifting, and the other (although it's an awesome and beautiful song) I have no business listening to because I know it's going to open the floodgates. In consequence, I will sit around bawling and sniffling for an hour, like I'm doing right now. I repeat: Music has a profound effect on me.
When the couple was first dating in high school I don't know if any of us thought it would turn into what it did. The relationship lasted a year, and then two. When he enlisted in the Marines, there were some that believed the relationship would peter out due to time and distance. But, they lasted through basic training, then through the first tour in Iraq, and then the second. What started as flirtation in the band room, turned into a commitment between two of the most independent and iron-willed people I've ever met.
I remember vivid details from their wedding. Not just because I was the maid of honor and had a front row seat - if anything nervousness would have blocked some of it out. I remember because it was like no wedding I've ever been to. It was so personal, and illustrated in numerous ways the absolutely unshakeable bond of love, honor, and dedication that was present between the bride and groom. The first song I listened to tonight was the song she walked down the aisle to. If I remember correctly, he discovered it some length of time before he ever proposed, called her from Camp Pendleton, and played it for her over the phone. It's like it was written just for them.
I am positively heartbroken every time I listen to it, or even think about the lyrics. Marriage is about loyalty, companionship, and commitment. The one you marry is supposed to be the person you love and cherish above all others next to God, the one you would have an arm severed off for. Sadly, it's a covenant that has been cheapened by modern society. It's mocked, and seen as a way to get new appliances and bath towels. It's even viewed as temporary by some. Not the case with these two.
This is where the other two songs come in. One was played at the funeral - "Promised Land" by Fee, the other is just a song I know. "Promised Land" reminds me that she hasn't "lost" him at all, she just has to wait a little while to see him again. In the meantime, he's "gone up to glory land, he's gonna see his Lord, he ain't gonna cry no more." That song is for him. The other is for her, it simply reiterates that God is love, and perfect love casts out fear.
This is for her, too. You've always been so supportive of me, even when I wasn't of you - and that's why I know you're reading this right now, so let me say this: You are a remarkable, strong, intelligent, Christian person, and I am so privileged to know you, and honored that you call me friend.
Music is so powerful. It can put us in another place, another time, it can make a fading memory burn bright and invoke an emotion or desire thought forgotten. It can inspire a person, bring them joy, or drive them to tears. It can bring praise to someone's lips, or influence them to make poor decisions. I believe music has had all of these effects on me at one time or another.
I love music. I assign a lot of importance to it. I can look at the long list of songs in my iTunes library and identify a memory or emotion with just about all of them. I've listened to three tonight, in the past hour or so, that all point to my two very good friends.
One friend is actually my cousin, and probably the human being on this earth I'm closest to, although I wouldn't have always admitted it. The other is her Marine husband who was killed in Afghanistan this past May.
My music library is organized alphabetically, and oddly enough that places the first and second songs that reference them right next to each other. One is uplifting, and the other (although it's an awesome and beautiful song) I have no business listening to because I know it's going to open the floodgates. In consequence, I will sit around bawling and sniffling for an hour, like I'm doing right now. I repeat: Music has a profound effect on me.
When the couple was first dating in high school I don't know if any of us thought it would turn into what it did. The relationship lasted a year, and then two. When he enlisted in the Marines, there were some that believed the relationship would peter out due to time and distance. But, they lasted through basic training, then through the first tour in Iraq, and then the second. What started as flirtation in the band room, turned into a commitment between two of the most independent and iron-willed people I've ever met.
I remember vivid details from their wedding. Not just because I was the maid of honor and had a front row seat - if anything nervousness would have blocked some of it out. I remember because it was like no wedding I've ever been to. It was so personal, and illustrated in numerous ways the absolutely unshakeable bond of love, honor, and dedication that was present between the bride and groom. The first song I listened to tonight was the song she walked down the aisle to. If I remember correctly, he discovered it some length of time before he ever proposed, called her from Camp Pendleton, and played it for her over the phone. It's like it was written just for them.
I am positively heartbroken every time I listen to it, or even think about the lyrics. Marriage is about loyalty, companionship, and commitment. The one you marry is supposed to be the person you love and cherish above all others next to God, the one you would have an arm severed off for. Sadly, it's a covenant that has been cheapened by modern society. It's mocked, and seen as a way to get new appliances and bath towels. It's even viewed as temporary by some. Not the case with these two.
This is where the other two songs come in. One was played at the funeral - "Promised Land" by Fee, the other is just a song I know. "Promised Land" reminds me that she hasn't "lost" him at all, she just has to wait a little while to see him again. In the meantime, he's "gone up to glory land, he's gonna see his Lord, he ain't gonna cry no more." That song is for him. The other is for her, it simply reiterates that God is love, and perfect love casts out fear.
This is for her, too. You've always been so supportive of me, even when I wasn't of you - and that's why I know you're reading this right now, so let me say this: You are a remarkable, strong, intelligent, Christian person, and I am so privileged to know you, and honored that you call me friend.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Midnight in Montgomery
It’s been a long time since I’ve regaled my readers with a comical vacation anecdote. If you’re unfamiliar with these tales, let me educate you. Throughout my brief lifetime as an Allen, we have embarked on many adventures. Often, our lodging choices have been less than, ahem … desirable. My most popular recant of a hotel pick gone bad - horribly bad - is a New Year’s Trip to Galveston Island and a stay in a chain whose name I’ll change to protect their reputation. Let’s call them, La Stinka. This stay can be summed up with three words: bugs in bed.
We left this past Sunday for the Georgia Coast, which is a long way from East Texas. We originally had reservations in Meridian, Mississippi, but got there earlier than expected and decided to push for Montgomery, Alabama, so our drive wouldn’t be as long the next day. We arrived in Montgomery after dark, making our approach from the south side - always a good idea. After driving for more than eight hours and we were tired and hungry. We meandered through the coveted pawn shop and seedy bar district for some time before locating any kind of remotely acceptable lodging. The choice was between a (names changed) Motel 9 and a Fantastic Ocho. Neither are on my Top 1,000 list of places to spend the night, but we were out of options. Onward to Fantastic Ocho!
We checked in and walked to our room, which was exactly ten feet from the lobby. I think the guy at the counter took pity on us and put us somewhere we’d feel safe. Or, it’s possible he knew something we didn’t and really was trying to keep us safe. The room across the hall from us had recently lost its door handle. Six jagged holes remained.
We entered our room, where the lights and television were on (?). From there, the evening unfolded. We left to get something to eat and on our way back to the room asked for more towels. These towels never did arrive and we went to bed. Just as we were drifting off, there was a knock on the door. Towels. Back to bed. Another knock. More towels? No, this time a 7-foot man was on the other side. I’m thinking Michael Oher, but this was Montgomery and not Memphis. Did I mention the door did lock, but there was a gap between it and the frame that a small child could wiggle through? The chain had also been torn off, same unfortunate accident the door across the hall experienced, no doubt.
Gigantor was the final visitor of the night and I finally relaxed and slipped into a shallow sleep, a sleep disturbed by a distant rumble. Thunder? No, it was constant and getting closer. The COPS theme began playing in my head, and I concluded it was a police helicopter. I’ll never know for sure.
When I awoke the next morning I needed internet. I was 99.99% sure there was no Wi-Fi but tried anyway, and tickle me pink, there was! It belonged to the Motel 9 next door, but I didn’t think piggy backing fell below the high ethical code of the establishment. The final golden nugget of humor is this: There was an ironing board, but no iron.
All in all, the room was clean, the staff was friendly and helpful, and we got a decent night’s sleep. It also serves as a great story, and fuel for my unfair “Bama” stereotyping.
We left this past Sunday for the Georgia Coast, which is a long way from East Texas. We originally had reservations in Meridian, Mississippi, but got there earlier than expected and decided to push for Montgomery, Alabama, so our drive wouldn’t be as long the next day. We arrived in Montgomery after dark, making our approach from the south side - always a good idea. After driving for more than eight hours and we were tired and hungry. We meandered through the coveted pawn shop and seedy bar district for some time before locating any kind of remotely acceptable lodging. The choice was between a (names changed) Motel 9 and a Fantastic Ocho. Neither are on my Top 1,000 list of places to spend the night, but we were out of options. Onward to Fantastic Ocho!
We checked in and walked to our room, which was exactly ten feet from the lobby. I think the guy at the counter took pity on us and put us somewhere we’d feel safe. Or, it’s possible he knew something we didn’t and really was trying to keep us safe. The room across the hall from us had recently lost its door handle. Six jagged holes remained.
We entered our room, where the lights and television were on (?). From there, the evening unfolded. We left to get something to eat and on our way back to the room asked for more towels. These towels never did arrive and we went to bed. Just as we were drifting off, there was a knock on the door. Towels. Back to bed. Another knock. More towels? No, this time a 7-foot man was on the other side. I’m thinking Michael Oher, but this was Montgomery and not Memphis. Did I mention the door did lock, but there was a gap between it and the frame that a small child could wiggle through? The chain had also been torn off, same unfortunate accident the door across the hall experienced, no doubt.
Gigantor was the final visitor of the night and I finally relaxed and slipped into a shallow sleep, a sleep disturbed by a distant rumble. Thunder? No, it was constant and getting closer. The COPS theme began playing in my head, and I concluded it was a police helicopter. I’ll never know for sure.
When I awoke the next morning I needed internet. I was 99.99% sure there was no Wi-Fi but tried anyway, and tickle me pink, there was! It belonged to the Motel 9 next door, but I didn’t think piggy backing fell below the high ethical code of the establishment. The final golden nugget of humor is this: There was an ironing board, but no iron.
All in all, the room was clean, the staff was friendly and helpful, and we got a decent night’s sleep. It also serves as a great story, and fuel for my unfair “Bama” stereotyping.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Vacation!
I am leaving on vacation in a few hours. I find trips are a whole lot better when you've been progressively busy prior to taking them. Not stressed out busy. There's a difference. If I'm stressed out busy, then I just stay stressed while I'm away. But, when it's progressive, accomplishing busy, and I get to go away knowing I'm leaving behind a job well done, oh man, that's a good break.
This week has been spectacular. I couldn't think of a better note to leave on. Vacation Bible School was a wild success, and despite running around like a crazy person a lot of the time, I still managed to get a lot of actual work done. I've got several new students in the wings for the upcoming year, we have a confirmed foreign exchange student, I got some excellent news on a personal front, and I discovered that my biceps look amazing. Anybody want tickets to the gun show?
Have I done anything to make all this come about? Maybe a little, but I know better. I'm wrapped in His blessings. On a sad note, my very good friends Tiffany and Jordan are leaving Sunday night to take a position in a church in Indiana. They will be greatly missed, but I know this is an opportunity for them to grow as individuals, as a family, and minister to others. In Jordan's last lesson, he defined grace as "divine favor." It's a good thing to have, especially when I consider how undeserving I am.
How humbling it is to sit and think af all the blessings I already have, and then think ahead to the promises God hasn't fulfilled yet. He's already done so much, and I know I've only begun to know Him. Still, serving God isn't just about the mountain tops. He's with us in the valleys, too, and we are to praise Him in every circumstance. He is always worthy. So worthy. If it's ever difficult to find something to praise Him over, try telling Him you can't find anything. I bet He'll bring something to mind.
I'm going to try and post while I'm away this next week, but I make no promises. It's going to be a full week. I'm driving to Meridian, Mississippi, today (6-hour drive), then on to Brunswick, Georgia, tomorrow with an excursion through the Okeefenokee thrown in (10 hours). Tuesday through Friday I'll be in Savannah, Georgia, a place I've wanted to go to since ... forever. Friday, I head to Chattanooga (8 hours), and Saturday I'll wind up in Memphis with an aunt and uncle, and two awesome cousins. It's going to be fun!! I'll post pictures if nothing else.
This week has been spectacular. I couldn't think of a better note to leave on. Vacation Bible School was a wild success, and despite running around like a crazy person a lot of the time, I still managed to get a lot of actual work done. I've got several new students in the wings for the upcoming year, we have a confirmed foreign exchange student, I got some excellent news on a personal front, and I discovered that my biceps look amazing. Anybody want tickets to the gun show?
Have I done anything to make all this come about? Maybe a little, but I know better. I'm wrapped in His blessings. On a sad note, my very good friends Tiffany and Jordan are leaving Sunday night to take a position in a church in Indiana. They will be greatly missed, but I know this is an opportunity for them to grow as individuals, as a family, and minister to others. In Jordan's last lesson, he defined grace as "divine favor." It's a good thing to have, especially when I consider how undeserving I am.
How humbling it is to sit and think af all the blessings I already have, and then think ahead to the promises God hasn't fulfilled yet. He's already done so much, and I know I've only begun to know Him. Still, serving God isn't just about the mountain tops. He's with us in the valleys, too, and we are to praise Him in every circumstance. He is always worthy. So worthy. If it's ever difficult to find something to praise Him over, try telling Him you can't find anything. I bet He'll bring something to mind.
I'm going to try and post while I'm away this next week, but I make no promises. It's going to be a full week. I'm driving to Meridian, Mississippi, today (6-hour drive), then on to Brunswick, Georgia, tomorrow with an excursion through the Okeefenokee thrown in (10 hours). Tuesday through Friday I'll be in Savannah, Georgia, a place I've wanted to go to since ... forever. Friday, I head to Chattanooga (8 hours), and Saturday I'll wind up in Memphis with an aunt and uncle, and two awesome cousins. It's going to be fun!! I'll post pictures if nothing else.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
The best laid plans. . .
My baby sister is looking at colleges. She knows what she wants to do with her life, she's already secured one scholarship and is actively pursuing others, and she will graduate with honors next May.
Ah, to have plans. Although I hope she doesn't, statistics support the possibility that she will change her major; I changed mine half a dozen times. The differences between the two of us are plenteous: I chose my first major to choose one, almost out of vanity, she has chosen a field she is passionate over; I viewed college as my ticket to a non-stop party, and she is actually pursuing education; when I received my acceptance letter I wasn't thinking past the first week after Sorority rush, and Rebekah is already thinking about where she wants to start her career after college graduation.
I haven't been around very long, but boy have I made some rash decisions. It's easy to sit back and let regret slip in and allow myself to be inundated with "If only. . ." statements, or the good old "If I'd known then what I know now." I say that a lot, but maybe I wasn't supposed to know then.
At lunch yesterday, a friend of mine talked about wanting to become a flight attendant, but she was too young at the time. By the time she was old enough, she had a young family, and when they were old enough for her to pursue the dream again, September 11 occurred, and her husband put his foot down.
I'm teaching vacation Bible school this week and the kids have a memory verse for each day. Monday's was a favorite of mine - Jeremiah 29:11 "I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Did God intend for me to live in debauchery for several years? No, I was out of His will. But, decisions I've made about career, schooling, geographic location - those are choices I've tried my best to turn over to Him, and I have to trust that He has me right where I'm supposed to be, doing just what I'm supposed to be doing. One of the awesome things about God is, He's in control no matter what, and even though we have a free will, He's more than capable of stepping in and cleaning up after us and getting us back on the right track when we're ready.
So, best of luck baby sister. Keep Him in the center of it and all your plans and dreams will turn out just the way they're supposed to.
Ah, to have plans. Although I hope she doesn't, statistics support the possibility that she will change her major; I changed mine half a dozen times. The differences between the two of us are plenteous: I chose my first major to choose one, almost out of vanity, she has chosen a field she is passionate over; I viewed college as my ticket to a non-stop party, and she is actually pursuing education; when I received my acceptance letter I wasn't thinking past the first week after Sorority rush, and Rebekah is already thinking about where she wants to start her career after college graduation.
I haven't been around very long, but boy have I made some rash decisions. It's easy to sit back and let regret slip in and allow myself to be inundated with "If only. . ." statements, or the good old "If I'd known then what I know now." I say that a lot, but maybe I wasn't supposed to know then.
At lunch yesterday, a friend of mine talked about wanting to become a flight attendant, but she was too young at the time. By the time she was old enough, she had a young family, and when they were old enough for her to pursue the dream again, September 11 occurred, and her husband put his foot down.
I'm teaching vacation Bible school this week and the kids have a memory verse for each day. Monday's was a favorite of mine - Jeremiah 29:11 "I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Did God intend for me to live in debauchery for several years? No, I was out of His will. But, decisions I've made about career, schooling, geographic location - those are choices I've tried my best to turn over to Him, and I have to trust that He has me right where I'm supposed to be, doing just what I'm supposed to be doing. One of the awesome things about God is, He's in control no matter what, and even though we have a free will, He's more than capable of stepping in and cleaning up after us and getting us back on the right track when we're ready.
So, best of luck baby sister. Keep Him in the center of it and all your plans and dreams will turn out just the way they're supposed to.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
What's a human to do?
I work hard to make this blog positive and uplifting (you never know who is reading it), which is why I try to avoid posting on days that I've been irritable. Like today. But, here I am. Sometimes you just have to get things done, even when the circumstances are not ideal.
Irritability: Having or showing a tendency to be easily annoyed or made angry.
Checking symptoms. . .it's affirmative. I have been irritable today. Not that it's an excuse but I had a LOT of caffeine yesterday and therefore did not get a LOT of sleep last night. I literally felt electrical currents pulsing through my body all night. Then I took a sleep aide way too late and woke with a grogginess that can only be chemically induced. Way to mix the uppers and downers, Rach.
I've also been building Egypt for three days (in preparation for vacation Bible school next week) and generally ignoring all other responsibilities. Today, those neglected tasks started to weigh pretty heavy. That, combined with little sleep, made for the irritability.
As a follower of Christ, it's my job to be constantly aware that others watch how I act and react. As a leader, it's my job to just handle stuff. I feel so foolish when I look back on a situation I handled poorly and realize it was nothing to have lost my cool over. I feel disgusted when I show my temper to others. Praise Jesus, the latter doesn't happen very often. Anymore. Evidence of His work in me.
Conversely, there's something very Stepford-like about people that never show their humanness. I find it hard to trust, befriend, and not be intimidated by people who have it together all the time. Ironically, many different people have told me that I have my lid screwed on too tight. What's a human to do?
Life is a balancing act in so many ways. When we get wobbly, we have to reach for our touchstone. I can't always keep from being irritable and saying or doing something rash, but I can sure ask Him to help me, and forgive me when I fall. I can't find answers and solutions for every bump in the road, or explain every seeming injustice or disadvantage, but I can search His Word until I find peace.
I can't take a heart that's broken make it over again, but I know a man who can.
I can't take a soul that's sin sick, make it make it white, whiter than the snow, but I know a man who can.
Some call Him Savior, the Redeemer of all men.
I call Him Jesus for He's my dearest friend.
If you feel no one can help you and your life is out of hand, well I know a man who can.
"I Know a Man Who Can"
As sung by George Jones.
Irritability: Having or showing a tendency to be easily annoyed or made angry.
Checking symptoms. . .it's affirmative. I have been irritable today. Not that it's an excuse but I had a LOT of caffeine yesterday and therefore did not get a LOT of sleep last night. I literally felt electrical currents pulsing through my body all night. Then I took a sleep aide way too late and woke with a grogginess that can only be chemically induced. Way to mix the uppers and downers, Rach.
I've also been building Egypt for three days (in preparation for vacation Bible school next week) and generally ignoring all other responsibilities. Today, those neglected tasks started to weigh pretty heavy. That, combined with little sleep, made for the irritability.
As a follower of Christ, it's my job to be constantly aware that others watch how I act and react. As a leader, it's my job to just handle stuff. I feel so foolish when I look back on a situation I handled poorly and realize it was nothing to have lost my cool over. I feel disgusted when I show my temper to others. Praise Jesus, the latter doesn't happen very often. Anymore. Evidence of His work in me.
Conversely, there's something very Stepford-like about people that never show their humanness. I find it hard to trust, befriend, and not be intimidated by people who have it together all the time. Ironically, many different people have told me that I have my lid screwed on too tight. What's a human to do?
Life is a balancing act in so many ways. When we get wobbly, we have to reach for our touchstone. I can't always keep from being irritable and saying or doing something rash, but I can sure ask Him to help me, and forgive me when I fall. I can't find answers and solutions for every bump in the road, or explain every seeming injustice or disadvantage, but I can search His Word until I find peace.
I can't take a heart that's broken make it over again, but I know a man who can.
I can't take a soul that's sin sick, make it make it white, whiter than the snow, but I know a man who can.
Some call Him Savior, the Redeemer of all men.
I call Him Jesus for He's my dearest friend.
If you feel no one can help you and your life is out of hand, well I know a man who can.
"I Know a Man Who Can"
As sung by George Jones.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
New, old things
There is no new thing under the sun. King Solomon did some painstaking research to prove that point. But, isn’t it refreshing when we can look at something we’re used to with a new, fresh perspective, and gain a whole new appreciation for it?
Last week I had family visiting from Idaho – my sister, Susan; her husband, Larry; and daughter, Kristie. Larry had never seen Texas and Susan and Kristie had not visited in more than three years. We went through all the usual stops, which include a nearby antiquing town, a Cypress swamp, and of course, the amusement that is my large extended family.
While trolling through Caddo Lake, under its mysterious centuries-old Cypress trees, I listened to the tour guide, who by his own omission was not an educated man, but the wealth of knowledge he possessed about the land and water he grew up on made me proud. Additionally, I’d forgotten the beauty and uniqueness of the place that is a mere 50 minutes from my driveway. I wouldn’t have even been there if it weren’t for family visiting, and I found myself anticipating what they would find impressive, and at the same time, remembered how impressed I was with it myself. To make things more interesting, my father has become nearly an expert on the history of our region, and listening to him recount the significance of brick buildings and dirt roads along the way made me stand a little taller.
A little later, we were at a dinner attended by almost all of my mom’s family. Not one of them failed to shake my sister and brother-in-law’s hands, welcoming them and assuring them that they were family. That just doesn’t happen everywhere. Again, I beamed with pride and appreciation.
It’s easy to get wrapped up in what other places have to offer, but I’m glad I had the chance to see through another’s eyes how much I have just a few steps from my front door.
Likewise, it seems almost effortless to slip into spiritual indifference, even numbness, and forget the beauty of what God has done in my life, or any life. Anyone can get comfortable with a routine and begin to go through the motions. For me, it only takes studying a familiar passage that well illustrates the saving grace and passion of Jesus to make me fall in love all over again with renewed vigor and purpose.
Every time I put forth the effort to grow, and pull myself off that spiritual treadmill, He always gives me a 200 percent return, revealing to me something new, although it’s not new at all. It’s really a gift, a piece of wisdom, a new closeness, that’s been waiting for me the whole time.
Last week I had family visiting from Idaho – my sister, Susan; her husband, Larry; and daughter, Kristie. Larry had never seen Texas and Susan and Kristie had not visited in more than three years. We went through all the usual stops, which include a nearby antiquing town, a Cypress swamp, and of course, the amusement that is my large extended family.
While trolling through Caddo Lake, under its mysterious centuries-old Cypress trees, I listened to the tour guide, who by his own omission was not an educated man, but the wealth of knowledge he possessed about the land and water he grew up on made me proud. Additionally, I’d forgotten the beauty and uniqueness of the place that is a mere 50 minutes from my driveway. I wouldn’t have even been there if it weren’t for family visiting, and I found myself anticipating what they would find impressive, and at the same time, remembered how impressed I was with it myself. To make things more interesting, my father has become nearly an expert on the history of our region, and listening to him recount the significance of brick buildings and dirt roads along the way made me stand a little taller.
A little later, we were at a dinner attended by almost all of my mom’s family. Not one of them failed to shake my sister and brother-in-law’s hands, welcoming them and assuring them that they were family. That just doesn’t happen everywhere. Again, I beamed with pride and appreciation.
It’s easy to get wrapped up in what other places have to offer, but I’m glad I had the chance to see through another’s eyes how much I have just a few steps from my front door.
Likewise, it seems almost effortless to slip into spiritual indifference, even numbness, and forget the beauty of what God has done in my life, or any life. Anyone can get comfortable with a routine and begin to go through the motions. For me, it only takes studying a familiar passage that well illustrates the saving grace and passion of Jesus to make me fall in love all over again with renewed vigor and purpose.
Every time I put forth the effort to grow, and pull myself off that spiritual treadmill, He always gives me a 200 percent return, revealing to me something new, although it’s not new at all. It’s really a gift, a piece of wisdom, a new closeness, that’s been waiting for me the whole time.
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