Where Have All The Servants Gone?

"Do all things without grumbling or disputing; that you may prove yourselves to be blameless and innocent, children of God above reproach in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you appear as lights in the world, . . . " (Phil. 2:14-15 NASB)

Three weeks since a hard crash into a rocky gravel driveway sent me into a comatose, dependent state of being. Not literally without consciousness, but figuratively it would seem.

It's been a state of grief - aloneness - and helplessness. And, it's also a wake-up call to the feelings I'm sure will surface when I'm 108 and can no longer feed myself or perhaps walk to the bathroom unassisted. It's a sobering thought - this growing older, tables turned topsy turvy.

One shining star, though, brought light and encouragement from a very unexpected place--one of my co-workers. This young man, born the year I graduated from high school, is a breath of fresh air in my workplace. In the two years I have known him, I have rarely seen him not grinning wide, full of exuberance for life. He's a former New Yorker from the Bronx with Midwestern ways it would seem.

His tattoed visage, rough language, and dubious past mask a servant heart that seems to know no bounds. He is a rare gem among the litter of this ugly world. And, while he's no church-goer, it doesn't matter because he lives the life of service. Paul writes in Philippians: "Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind let each of you regard one another as more important than himself; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others." (Phil. 2: 3, 4 NASB) That is his mantra.

The Saturday after I broke my arm, this young man called our company owner to get my phone number so he could "check up on me." Our owner's wife called me as well and their two calls meant so much to me--concern, love, honor.

Just about every day or so I receive the privilege of watching him in action--serving customers, helping out in some way and he continues to make it a point to ask me how I'm feeling. He blesses my soul.

Have you blessed someone's soul today? Taken time to smile? Shared a story or your heart with someone? Said "thank you"? Offered assistance? All it takes is a few simple lines in a text message, a phone call, or simply a smile to brighten this world and be a light in someone's darkness. You CAN make all the difference.

Why not try it?

Pain of This Earth - Things Above

Yes, that is pain. I'm really tired of the pain and suffering of this life. Some days I just want to give up on everything and everyone. How did Jesus do it, dying, being tortured, and suffering for our petty sins and selfishness? He was the God-man, though. That's how. Then we, selfish humans that we are treat one another with little regard. We are so full of ourselves, our own pettyness, that we disregard the feelings of others. We shamefully think of our own pain, our own supposed suffering without seeing the pain of the Cross, the pain of our neighbor, our friends, our family.

I shake my head in disbelief at the lack of caring, the behavior that eats away at our very souls. Pain is a vast feeling of nothingness, an endless, mindless chasm of tears and suffering. Maybe pain is like hell only its right here on earth, every day surrounding us, engulfing us.

Like a fire – it consumes us – destroying the very fabric of our souls. Crackling, spitting, scorching flames that suck the oxygen from us leaving us breathless and stunned.

Yes, that is pain. A violent brush fire that destroys and then leaves us with nothingness. The aching, the internal hollow feeling that lingers is wretched.

That is indeed the pain I've been feeling for some time now. It's inexplicable--yet somehow so tangible I can feel it, see it, touch it, smell it.

I apologize to my readers for this foray into the deep darkness of the human soul, because I know it's somewhere many dare not venture. Some hide in silence, while others hide in shadows, hoping no one will see their pain. I hide here in words on a blog that very few read. So, it's safe to say that my pain will remain virtually undiscovered. And, do not worry over me because the writing is a way through the pain. And, beyond all this there is a higher hope, a confident clarity and a purposeful journey ever pulling me upward.

I find it is interesting that tonight ushered in a full moon – so appropriate with all its connotations of disaster, predators hunting the weak and werewolves baying. Despite all the pain and suffering in this world, both physical and psychological, there is one thing that remains – I AM. The beginning and the end; Alpha & Omega.

"Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on earth." (Colossians 3:2)

"And so, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience; bearing with one another, and forgiving each other, whoever has a complaint against anyone; just as the Lord forgave you, so also should you. And beyond all these things put on love, which is the perfect bond of unity." Colossians 3:12-14

Our Little Wise Owl

July 1, 1992, 2:32 a.m. Overland Park, KS Humana Hospital

A little sprite of a girl was born this morning 20 years ago. From the very beginning, I knew this one would be very special. Many times, the second child lives in the shadow of the older and I believe she did for a time.

But her own personality came out early one - a determined spirit, but one that above all is sensitive, loving and caring.

I can remember many times her coming home from school with stories to tell of classmates who had been wronged by another. She would grieve over their pain - and it wasn't something she could let go of very easily. Such a testimony to her caring spirit - her empathetic nature. And, her sense of moral justice. Quite an unusual characteristic for one so young.

My husband and I had this crazy idea to try to choose Irish names for our kids and when the second one came along, we debated over several different names - landing on Aubrey Shannon. Now for those of you who may know, the name Aubrey is not Irish (oops). No - its roots are Germanic/French and it means "blond ruler" or "king of the elves." At the time, we didn't even really look at the meaning too closely - we just liked the name. The middle name was a bit easier - (like the River Shannon in Ireland). It's origins are Irish and the meaning is "little wise owl."

But those who know her best know her independence and determination shine forth. There are "deep waters" within Aubrey that are yet to be tapped and I look forward to watching her continue to grow and develop as she now enters her 20s.

From early on, we suspected chocolate would be a large part of her life. And, that has definitely proved itself out as we have experienced first hand her love of pastry and baking.

The last five years, Aubrey has immersed herself in what she loves best - the hard work and joy of baking and culinary arts. Her creativity blossomed in this endeavor because she flourishes when she can work with her hands and create something new. She loves to try new things and her newest endeavors with raw desserts has been a joy to watch and be a part of.

So, Happy Birthday, Daughter #2! I am so blessed and honored that God chose me to be your Mom for a short time on this earth. I'm so thankful that our Heavenly Father has known and will know you for an eternity. Love ya!

The Commitment Garden

The garden analogy is probably nothing new to my readers. However, Saturday as I was weeding out in the 96 degree summer heat, several truths hit me again over the head.

Several years ago, our family spent a long Mother's Day Sunday preparing a garden bed around our patio. We worked and worked to get that bed ready, sprayed, dug, and laid down the landscape fabric - confident it would do its job and there would be no more weeding. The next year, though, the weeds were rampant, making for a lot more back-breaking pulling and chopping to assure our beautiful new bushes and flowers had a chance to take root and grow again.

Years later the bushes are big, the flowers showy and we regularly enjoy visits from skittery little butterflies and zooming hummmingbirds. Was it worth all the effort? Is it still worth the effort each year to prepare the bed, trim the bushes, lay new mulch, pull the errant weeds?

It seems to me that the gardens we plant and nurture are much like the relationships God brings into our lives. Developing a God-designed relationship is hard work and to do it right requires a lot of effort. As broken people, we all have shortcomings, fears, struggles--those weeds that want to choke out the beautiful, the mercy, the grace.

Last Spring I put a lot of effort into a small flower bed in front of the house. However, I neglected some key elements and when I returned from a short trip the weeds had overtaken it. Sadly, I watched in dismay as all that work was ruined. If I had been faithful and weeded the moment I returned, things might have been different. I gave up too soon - I lacked endurance, faithfulness and commitment to my dear friends.

Looking back on those two different plantings, what made the difference? Last year's planting succumbed to the overwhelming heat and dryness, but I can't blame it all on the summer sun. Unfortunately, it was my lack of devotion and care that also contributed to the sad outcome. Yes, it takes work to grow a garden . . . it takes patience, love, and devotion to grow a relationship.

And, what about those instances where the other person is stumbling, weeds are growing up in their life. What do I do then? Do I have the faith not to give up on them even when they've given up on themselves? It's all about commitment - indeed family and faith. Much like the fruits of the spirit - a garden of relationship thrives through the Spirit. The herb garden is thriving through the heat. Why? Love and commitment.

It's a lot to take in - this garden life. Am I up for the challenge? Are you? I'm determined this year will be different. My herb garden is now flourishing; pretty flowers dot the front landscape . . . and the waters of life will sustain them, along with a little help from me. They've got a good start, but it's up to me to maintain our relationship, nurture it - persevere. Love believes all things. (I Corinthians 13:7)

To Whom It May Concern

To Whom It May Concern~

Five words we use when we really don't know to whom we're writing. A bit nonchalant. A trifle lackadasical. Noncommital really.

Tonight I was asked to write one of these letters so it got me thinking about the whole salutation thing and then it dawned on me that it's definitely a symptom of what our society has evolved into - unconcerned, lazy, and . . . well, you get the picture.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not sitting in judgment - it's just an observation from my miniscule brain cells. Sometimes, I've been told, I really think too much. Or, I think about some nonsensical things - blow them out of proportion. Probably like I'm doing tonight in this strange blog entry.

But I digress so back to the topic. Isn't it a shame that many times we don't know to whom to address a letter or an inquiry. Some mysterious person is hiding behind obscurity. It would seem that if we don't have a real name, we then become unsure if our request or inquiry will ever get heard.

I'm so glad the God of the universe isn't hiding in anonymity. I'm delighted that He has made Himself known to me. He is Yahweh - the Creator of the Universe. He's also Abba - Father. I can call him Father! I can address him by name and his mailing address is right here, right now--past, present & future. Alpha & Omega - Beginning & the End.

". . . and I will call on the name of the Lord, and the God who answers by fire, He is God." (I Kings 18:24b, NASB)

Thanks for enduring my bit of oddity this day. And, don't forget to call on His name. He's there--yesterday, today and forever! Amen.

"Say What? Who Me?"

"Yes, you!"

Giraffes are an interesting lot. This little guy's tongue is 18" long! He loves acacia leaves and he can eat 75 pounds of them in a day. And as you will see in a bit he really craves large Kansas weeds. He can drink up to 10 gallons of water in a day and has four stomachs much like our neighbor - the cow. He has a large, loving heart at two feet long and 25 pounds and it pumps about 16 gallons of blood every minute! He has the highest blood pressure of any mammal on earth and that wonderful heart beats 170 beats per minute. Amazing facts for the elegant giraffe. He is definitely one amazing creature. And learning all this now reaffirms what I experienced at the Topeka Zoo on Saturday.

It was a close encounter of the long-necked, curious kind. This little guy (if you can call him "little) entertained Brinna & I for quite some time. Watching his languid movements and his inquisitive, friendly ways was a real treat.

Watch & learn . . . persevere. Show a lot of heart. All the best things are within reach if we just have a little faith. Those expressive eyes - trusting - confident - steady. So full of faith and heart. Just another example of God's magnificent hand in every part of His creation.

If you want to read more about giraffes - I recommend the book Tall Blondes by Lynn Sherr - still in print and available on Amazon.com at http://www.amazon.com/Tall-Blondes-Book-About-Giraffes/dp/0836227697. They are truly amazing animals.

Prairie Striped Horse

Exploration on the prairie never seems to end. And wonders fill our hearts and minds.

I just wish I could have acted quickly enough, driving at 70 mph on I-70, to stop and capture this prairie oddity for all to see. All I can say is my youngest daughter and I were witnesses to a miracle - a sighting - far removed from the African velde. Just mid-way in the tallgrass prairie, half-way on our journey to Topeka, close to the geographical center of the U.S. - we spied a prairie striped horse on Saturday last.

Black and white, not gray or tan or prairie beige, no--simple black and white stripes topped with a bristle brush of black. The mysterious creature taunted us from its prairie pasture.

And, yes, you guessed it - a spry little zebra exploring the prairie. I wonder how he or she felt - far removed from its natural surroundings of a grassy African plain. Timid, shy, nearly hidden at the entrance gate to a sprawling ranch, this little guy seemed to be awaiting an opportunity for escapism.

Sometimes I feel a bit like that zebra - alone, different, uprooted from my home place and stranded in a foreign land.

We are but sojourners in this crazy land full of wonder. And, that's not a bad thing - it's just something to ponder - something to appreciate and savor - this aloneness, the uniqueness of my being here on the planet.

And so cheers to that prairie striped horse who is discovering new life on the prairie. So am I. :D

The Empty Swing

I love the old country swing. Its wood plank seat and heavy rope--primitive . . . simple . . . childhood joy.

Early memories fill my mine's eyes of a little brick farmhouse near the wide Missouri River. Nestled among large, creaking oak trees and surrounded by gardens of flowers and little kittens, my Aunt Helen's home was magical to me. Barns to explore, antique farm implements, musty, familiar scents of history. The overgrown oak next to the garage held the classic childhood wooden swing. Swinging to and fro, higher and higher, pumping the air, the breezes--simplicity heavenward.

Why don't we see adults enjoying those swings more? It seems to be a child-like distraction. Or is it? Not today as I survey its deeper meanings.

The empty swing. Symbol of childhoods forgotten, joy abandoned. Sedentary life - motion upturned and in upheavel. Early dawn silences the motion. A wooden swing - motionless, resting, saluting underneath its leafy canopy. It waits for another . . . another child, another life full of abandon, one more reckless swing heavenward with squeals of delight.

Reaching for the sky . . . striving for the eternal.

Empty swing . . . filled life.

Reliving childhood . . . simple, joyful abandon, new life.

O taste and see that the Lord is good; How blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him! (Psalms 34:8 NASB)

Have you ever experienced a time when certain words, images, or phrases just seem to overtake your mind?

I've had this phenomenon assault my psyche the last couple of weeks . . . and those are the words that can't seem to leave my mind. More specifically, they are "Taste and see the goodness of the Lord." I couldn't remember where they were found in the scriptures so today I decided to look them up.

The second half of the verse stopped me in my tracks. I'm blessed if I take refuge in Him! Wow, what a thought. Now I know why the Spirit wouldn't allow me to rest. God had a word for me - I just needed to keep listening.

So many times when we are going through difficult circumstances, we try to handle them ourselves, we retreat & give up, or worst of all we deny the problem is even there. But, how many times do we seek the safety, the tower, the stronghold God has built for us? It is only in Him that we can find rest.

I am reminded of the images in Psalms 91 that speak to God's role as protector (much like a mother bird protecting its young). "He will cover you with His pinions, And under His wings you may seek refuge; His faithfulness is a shield and bulwark."

And That's How We Show Love

When you have a menagerie to feed out on the prairie, where do you go? The farm store, of course. We're frequent visitors to the farm & home store in town. It's a great place for plumbing & electrical supplies, garden fertilizer and bedding plants, gun safes, hardware, overalls, flannel, leather work gloves, fencing, sour gummy worms, peanuts in the shell, salt water taffy, and on and on. The list is nearly endless.

Springtime, however, brings a new attraction to the product mix that always has a big pull for the elementary age crowd. And, Miss Brinna is no exception. Can you guess what it is?

Yep, downy balls of ducklings, chicks, and Beatrix Potter's favorite--Peter Rabbit's American cousins. They come in all shades and sizes and inevitably leave an interesting scent in aisle 1. Brinna doesn't seem to mind though, because once we hit the front door she's off for her baby animal fix. This past Saturday was no exception as I stocked up on 50-pound bags of grain for our horses and Brinna cooed to the bunnies.

At the check-out counter, they were giving out freshly cut, home-grown roses. Brinna picked a beauty that looked like God had taken his watercolor palette to it. Delicate brushstrokes of pinks & yellows.

Pushing the overloaded cart, loaded down with about 300 pounds of horse feed, I struggled to the truck with Brinna following. As I loaded the feed into the bed of the truck, I noticed Brinna was distracted a short distance from me, intent on something in the parking lot, near the curb. I called. She came. A beautiful yellow butterfly perched on her finger. The little guy was wounded, however. One of the four wings was down. Her spindly legs clung to Brinna's finger. Then Brinna decided to move the sweet thing to her painted rose.

Brinna's comment to me, "I just want to help make her last moments happy."

And, that's how a little girl showed love to a tiny butterfly.

Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends. (John 15:13 NASB)