Fireflies

I really should be in bed.  The day has been packed with activities and sleep is beckoning me.  Yet, I have to pause to reflect on how amazing God is. 

Abbie and I went for an evening jog after eating birthday cake and homemade ice cream at a birthday party (not so smart, right?). But, the climate was pristine and the running schedule we're on called for us to kick ourselves into gear, birthday cake or no.  The air was balmy but cool, the twilight-covered landscape was glowing, and the stars were blinking in the sky.  With my iPod crooning and my legs pumping, I soaked it all in and let the beauty captivate me. 

For a Western girl like me, the most mesmerizing aspect of the evening runs we've been taking are the fireflies.  The flashes of light in the midst of cornfields and lush trees wow me.  Tonight, Abbie and I pretended they were crazed fans stumbling over each other to snap photos of us, Olympic runners extraordinaire (if you read this Abbie, sorry to admit our antics.  I'm not ashamed.).  Yet, I don't think these little bugs care the least about us.  Instead, I envision them praising God with their light show.  It must bring pleasure and glory to Him to see the handiwork of His creation.

I marvel at the goodness of God not only in His creation, but in His provision.  Seeing the ways He has provided for me in every way encourages my heart.  Lately, I've been particularly struck by how God uses people's pain to bless and challenge other believers and to be a distinct witness to those without Christ.  It seems that this is a hard season in life for many of the people I care about the most.  Yet, in seeing how they have faced the reality of their pain, God has touched my heart in deep and rich ways.  There is a distinct beauty and authenticity in pain when such pain is given to God and surrendered to Him for the sake of His glory.   God shows His provision and unfailing love most in such circumstances.  I want to be an apprentice of such surrender.  I want to give God every ounce of who I am, pain and all, and watch how He will hold my heart and never fail me. 

Rambling as it may be, that's a snapshot of what I'm thinking tonight.  Life for me in Omaha is full.  Full of fun, people, rest, newness, and challenges.  I am so thankful for this unique opportunity and stage of my life and hope that I don't waste even a minute of it.  I want to learn what God wants me to learn while I'm here. 

God, thanks for the fireflies.

Oriental Excursion

Who knew that a touch of China sits on the western edge of Iowa? 

One of my aunts who lives in Omaha asked me to accompany her and her family on a little hiking venture last night.  Loving to hike and having the evening free, I readily agreed.  As we feasted on sandwiches and sweet corn (oh, Nebraska!) before we headed out, my uncle began telling me about our destination.  Our adventure would take us to the Loess Hills State Forest which is situated right across the Missouri river in Iowa.  He explained that the types of hills that reside in the forest are incredibly unique and are only found in this state forest and in certain spots in China.  I was immediately fascinated and ready to explore.

The drive to the park was beautiful in and of itself and would have been a fine outing on its own.  As I've said more than once, this area of the country is magnificent.  The rolling hills and lush greenery complemented by quaint old houses and scenic pastureland made the drive enchanting.  We drove through Crescent, Iowa to get to the State Forest. 

Once there, we were greeted by muggy warmth and a group of people with whom we would be hiking.  With a camera to capture each scene and a Gatorade to combat the heat, I set out with high hopes.  I was not disappointed.

The verdant ridges rolled along like plush camel backs resting on the earth.  Birds, butterflies, and plants of all kinds were plentiful.  I spotted this little bird to the left flitting through the air.  He was delicate and retreated into a large tree, but with my aunt's help, I was able to see him within the branches and train my camera on him. 

The hike wasn't vigorous nor long, but it offered a feast for my spirit.  Nature never fails to remind me of what an amazing God I serve, and I am endlessly intrigued by how creation ministers to us.  At the end of our hike, we went to an observation deck overlooking the Missouri river valley.  With the setting sun and the haze of humidity hovering low over the landscape, the vista provided a dreamy end to the day.

Sometimes exotic getaways are just around the bend or across the river.  I can't wait for the next surprising adventure that I have.

Trusting the Driver

Yesterday, I had dinner with a friend from college whom I had not seen for over three years.  We met at Pepperjax, a fun Omaha joint, and chatted away two and a half hours.  As we discussed the course of our lives and contemplated what God is up to in us, my friend said, "I have realized that I may not know where I am going, but I know Who I am following."

Her words resonated with me and they were all the more poignant because she was speaking them from within the midst of hard trials in her life.  Most of us like to have an understanding of the game plan of our future. We feel secure if we think we know what's coming in the next few months or years of our existence.  We delight in life if we think we have a grasp of what's happening and if we can see a clear vision of the road out the front window. 

Yet, as anyone with any experience in life knows, the front window gets foggy sometimes and the defrost just doesn't seem to work.  Sometimes the road is filled with potholes and roadblocks and seemingly dangerous terrain.  Sometimes the roadsigns are taken away and the GPS system is broken to boot.  Sometimes, the Driver doesn't seem to know where He is going and we are forced to bite our tongues and swallow fear.  Sometimes we want to take over the steering wheel and pull onto the highway next over that appears calm, safe, and much more comfortable. 

As a believer, and in light of all that I understand about the way God created me and about what it means to have a new life in Christ, I want Christ to be in the driver's seat of my life.  I know better than to think that taking over the course of my life will be the best plan of action for me.  Is it even possible for me to wholly manage my life on my own? 

My uncle was recently talking about the concept of "free will" at his church.  He mentioned that such a concept is fallacious.  We do have the ability to make choices, but we are not free to do absolutely anything we want.  For example, we are not free to just go to the moon on a whim.  There are some things we cannot do even if we so desire.  It would be more accurate to say we have "limited will".  Therefore, even from a logical standpoint (not to mention a Biblical one), I come back to the conclusion that surrendering my all to Christ is the only wise, life-giving, God-glorifying, joyful, peaceful, and fulfilling way to live.

That doesn't mean that surrender is not frightening or that trusting my future to Christ is always easy.  There are times when the track of life down which Christ leads me becomes dark.  Yet, with Christ by my side, darkness should not cause despair.  As Corrie Ten Boom put it, "When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don't throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer.” 

May I never desire to rush from under the shadow of Christ's wings.  May I never scramble to move when the cloud has not lifted.  May I never attempt to steer my own life.  May I never run in front of my Shepherd.  Instead, may I trust the Lord with my whole heart (Prov. 3:5) and believe that He will fulfill His purposes for me (Psalm 138:8).

Loved

There is a quote by Zora Neale Hurston that goes as follows: "Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place."  How true this is!  People who know they are loved glow.  There is no shell shrouding the light of their face.  They beam with the knowledge that they are valued by someone else. 

Even Nero and Genghis Khan desired to be loved.  I'm sure of it.  No stony exterior can convince me that love is not needed in a life.  Every human craves it and is born with a drive to find it.   

The problem is that human love is imperfect.  Human love sometimes shifts, falters, or fails.  Even those with the best of intentions don't love others well all of the time.  How, then, would anyone be able to remain consistently exposed when there is a chance that the light of reflected love will be dimmed?

How? By accepting the love God offers through Jesus Christ.  God is Love.  He is perfect Love.  He created us and loves us more than we can imagine.  He loved us so much that He sent His Son to die a cruel death for our wrongdoings (John 3:16).  I cannot completely fathom such love although I know that embracing such love nourishes the human soul and brings every part of it into its warm light. 

I have been contemplating 1 Corinthians 13:4-7: "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."  In a sermon I heard this year, it was pointed out that these attributes are speaking first and foremost about Christ's love.  That is powerful.  Who could hope for such a love to be lavished on one's soul? It is almost too good to be true.  But, it's a marvelous reality for those who are justified through faith in Christ.  Realizing how I sometimes fail to demonstrate this kind of love to others is endlessly convicting.

Another amazing aspect of God's love is that it casts out fear (1 John 4:18).  Perfect love never leaves the loved one with the feeling that there is impending danger of the love being compromised.  Basking in God's love wraps our souls in a blanket of security.  If we know Christ, nothing can separate us from His love (Romans 8:38-39).  How much joy should come from such assurance!

So, if today you are hiding in fear of being loved or because you feel unloved, crawl out from your darkness.  Christ offers the ultimate love for you.  He is what every soul needs as well as the only thing a soul needs.  His love is sufficient, unfailing, powerful, perfect, and healing.  I pray this truth will wash over you and me and will allow Christ's love to radiate from our faces.

Who is it About?

Not me.  This life is not about me.  As much as I want it to be sometimes, my life is not meant to be a self-pleasing, self-serving venture.  There is nothing good that comes of such a life, and God did not create us to live so. 

Francis Chan, in his book Crazy Love, speaks on this idea.  In Chapter Two of the book, he talks about the fact that God is what life is all about and that our whole purpose on earth is to bring Him glory.  This is a fundamental truth to any Christ-follower, but applying this truth to everyday life is tricky business.  We are naturally selfish people who are bred to be puffed up by cultural mantras like "believe in yourself", "go after your dreams", and "don't sell yourself short". 

It is true that God deems each of us precious and expects us to be people who pursue excellence.  It is also true that the Lord has many promises for us, such as the idea that He will never leave us or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5), He will not give us more than we can bear (1 Corinthians 10:13), and that nothing can separate us from the love of Christ (Romans 8:35-39).  Yet, in spite of the amazing love Christ has for us and the promises He gives to His children, it doesn't change the fact that we are created for His glory, not the other way around.

I am grappling with this truth in profound ways.  Am I really willing to do whatever the Lord bids?  Am I really about His glory and not my own?  How does one even accomplish this?  It must be by a constant surrender and a daily cross-carrying and denial of self (Luke 9:23-24). 

I pray that my life will not be about me.  What a shallow vision that would be!  Dying to self is painful, but I pray the pain will never prevent me from making my life about the glory of God.

Seven Dunks

Sunbeams streaming through the blinds of my childhood bedroom awoke me this morning.  Knowing that sleep was done with me for the night, I decided to roll out of bed and head to a local coffee shop called Brothers on Main Street.  With free Wi-Fi (yes, Wyoming does offer current features like that), and big windows through which to gaze, it is a welcoming spot to read, journal, pray, type, and just soak in life. 

I am not alone in the place this morning.  The table next to me is hosting some men who seem to be regulars.  They are leisurely sitting, laughing, and drinking coffee from their own personal coffee carafe.  The sound of their laughter right now is music and speaks of comfortable friendship. 

Sometimes, I crave to read stories from the Old Testament because, like any good story, they convey truths about God in powerful and creative ways.  This morning, I read about Naaman in 2 Kings 5.  I had forgotten the part of the story where Naaman got angry over the plan God put forth to heal him of his leprosy (v. 11 &12).   He was indignant that God was asking him to dip in a river that he deemed unfit for such an experience. 

When I read this, I was at once struck by the humorous aspect of God's plan and also by the childishness of Naaman's response.  Yet, that childishness of Naaman reflects my own rebelliousness toward God at times.  How many times have I asked God for something or even sought to be right with Him, only to cry and throw a fit when His requirements for that to be accomplished don't match my human solutions?  I don't think God tries to make things difficult for us to torture us, but I do believe He sometimes asks for unique acts of obedience just to see if we will obey because it is God's will, not because the path of obedience makes sense to us.

I pray that I will be willing to do whatever the Lord asks of me, even if it seems crazy.  I pray that I will abide in Him so that His plan is abundantly clear.   I pray that hesitation will not exist in me.  I pray that I will be bold and courageous to do what the Lord bids.  Even if it requires seven dunks.  For I know that no matter what He asks, if I obey, His best for me is in store.

Priceless Heritage

There are certain experiences in life that are priceless. Those MasterCard ads really have it nailed. Money can't buy everything, especially memories that strike the deepest chords in a soul.

I had such an experience last weekend. It was Memorial Day weekend, and I was gathered with 30 of my extended family on my Mom's side, the Buttermores. Love these kin of mine. When we're gathered together, we are one loud, boisterous, and fun-loving group. My uncles and grandpa alone can entertain us all for hours with their ridiculous humor. It doesn't matter where we are or what we're doing. We'll have fun.

In fact, we all gathered in little Alma, NE, a small town in the south-central part of the state. We congregated there because it was the closest town to Woodston, KS (where my grandpa grew up) that had decent hotel and eating options. Even though the town was small, it was quaint and we had no problem passing the time by playing in the park, having a BBQ at the bed and breakfast where some were staying, or playing cards at night in the lobby of the Super 8.

We were in the area for a couple of days. On Sunday, a group of us traveled into Woodston to visit the church my grandpa attended growing up. I am a sucker for history in general, but it is even more poignant to me when entwined with my heritage. As a sad testament to dying rural life, our group easily doubled the congregation. The bulletin documented the attendance of the previous week as being just 17 folks.

After church, we went to a potluck dinner that was held in the building that used to be a general store. This dinner happens every year on Memorial Day weekend. Folks from the surrounding area come to reminisce over a sampling of old-fashioned potluck food (There were enough pies and meatballs to fill the grain silos outside).

I could probably ramble for awhile about many details, but I'll skip to the events of Monday which constituted the best part of the trip in my opinion. The day dawned with a promise of glorious weather. Though some disagree, I have always deemed Kansas and Nebraska to be amazingly beautiful states. The time I spent in the Kansas countryside on Monday only confirmed that feeling.

We said goodbye to Alma and caravanned with nine vehicles (a bit crazy, I know) for 50-some miles to Woodston. We headed for the farm where my grandpa grew up with many other siblings. I had seen the front side of the land before, but I had never gotten out to trek around on the property. Most signs of the farm are long-gone, but Grandpa drew us all some maps of how everything looked when he grew up, so with a bit of imagination, the place came to life.

I didn't exactly know what we were going to do so I didn't prepare well. I was wearing the wrong kind of shoes for one thing. I thought we were going to tromp around for twenty minutes. Little did I know we'd be taking a 2 and a half hour hike through the Kansas brush.

My 82-year-old Grandpa led our pack and he wasn't slow! At one point, my dad commented on how conditioned he was when he launched off from a small shady spot where we had all paused.  Some of the rest of us weren't so quick to leave the shade and move on, but Grandpa seemed to feel no heat or fatigue.  He is one tough man and being on his old stomping grounds seemed to transform him into a robust 20-somethings lad.

We saw a windmill he had helped to build, spied a cistern where three of his siblings had once gotten stuck, passed "Rock Hill" where Grandpa had engraved his initials, and trekked to a house where his folks lived before he was born. I was drooling in wonder at getting to enjoy a pristine day, time with family, an invigorating hike, and all on the land where my grandpa played as a child! Enchanting doesn't begin to capture it all.

At one point, we had to cross a creek. My grandpa started heaving logs in the river to make some sort of bridge (I seriously think he forgot his age completely at that point).  I had sandal-like shoes on, so I ventured out to cross first since it didn't matter as much if my feet got wet. After a few cautious steps, I realized that the bridge wasn't too sturdy.  One of my uncles told me to stop and come back so they could place some more logs down.  I felt a bit stuck where I was though and unsure about what any movement would do to the shifting wood beneath my feet.

That's when my grandpa suddenly flew by me. To the horror of the rest of us, we watched while gasping and gawking as he teetered a bit on the shaky logs but spryly bounced to the other bank. We all laughed in disbelief. We knew Gramps was a tough guy and in good shape for his age, but this was no earthly 82-year-old. This was a man transported by the joy of sharing his childhood territory with those he loves most. It was a wonder to see. It was especially impressive to me when I tried following him and couldn't replicate what he had just done. My foot fell into the creek and I lost my sandal in the murky, muddy water (thanks, cousin Jettie, for fishing it out!).

With sun-kissed cheeks and hearts full of life, we finally left the farm and went to visit graves of our ancestors. My grandpa held little ceremonies at the graves complete with song sheets. When the Buttermores sing, there's no ignoring it. Many of them have some powerful voices, especially the men. Singing with them is one of my favorite things to do. Belting "How Great Thou Art" in a cemetery is a moving thing. Tears were not absent.

So, in reflecting on that time, I am blessed. I am blessed to think on the family I have and the godly, magnificent role models I have in my grandparents. My grandma has Parkinson's disease and traveling is not always the easiest thing for her. She had to forgo the countryside adventure, yet she didn't complain or feel sorry for herself. Not then, and not ever. She is the picture of resilience and she radiates the love of Christ. I am blessed and I am thankful that God gave me such a wonderful family. I pray that I will devotedly carry the torch of faith and character on to the next generation.