Looking at "goodbye" in the rearview mirror

"Finally, friends, farewell."

2 Corinthians 13:11

Yesterday was a difficult day for me.  And yet, in some ways, it was not as bad as I thought. 

I had to say goodbye to some friends yesterday.  I've known it was coming for over a year, and for the past several months, just the thought of it was enough to bring me to tears.

You see, the hard part was, I was the one leaving. 

I've been involved in my Bible study class for six years, but I won't be able to attend this class in the fall.  My schedule has changed, and I'll be attending a different local class.  And I have a few friends already in the new class, but still there are a lot of people I won't be seeing anymore.  And it's been hard to think about.

But at the same time, I knew this was the direction God was leading me.  I have a chance to work on a wonderful and fulfilling writing project next year.  I'm excited about what the future holds, but it didn't eliminate the difficulty of saying good bye to the class and the friends I have loved for so many years.

And yet, as I said, it wasn't as hard as I thought.  I think it was partially because I had plenty of time to get used to the idea, and partially because I knew He something new and exciting for me in the near future.

But I also think it had to do with the fact that I was dreading this last day.  Sometimes we make things worse by imagining the worst.  We focus on the negative, and highlight the bad.

Now, to be honest, I've got friends who do this on purpose.  I really prefer trying to focus on the positive, but I know people who think if they go through life expecting bad, then they'll be pleasantly surprised whenever things aren't bad.  And I suppose that that attitude might truly bring about the desired result.  Maybe it works for them.

But I think I'll continue to choose light.  I'll choose to see God's hand, and find the joy.  It's not always easy.  Once in awhile the hard is so big, we have to look high and low to find the wonderful.  But it's there.  It's always there.  It's just that sometimes we can't appreciate it, until we see it in the rearview mirror.

~ "those days were turned from sorrow to joy,

    and from mourning to a holiday" ~

Esther 9:22

~

Let there be light... please!

"thrust from light into darkness"

Job 18:18

So yesterday I played a rerun of mine ~ a post about pilots, and an experiment that showed them that their senses were not necessarily to be trusted.  The basis of the experiment was a spinning chair. 

Now, I haven't thought about that post, or those pilots, or that chair, in a couple of years, but I thought about it a lot last Tuesday, as I sat, in the dark, strapped into a chair that was indeed, spinning. 

I've been having issues with vertigo since late January.  Not a day has gone by that I'm not bothered by it to some degree.  So after seeing my eye doctor and my gynecologist, and my general doctor, and an ear/nose/throat doctor, I was sent to a "hearing and balance" center this week.  I sat through a myriad of tests.  Some were directed at checking to see if my eyes were doing what they were supposed to under certain circumstances.  Some were testing my hearing.  I also had to work to maintain my balance in a small booth where the doctor was moving the floor and the walls.

And then there was the chair.  It was in a large booth, or a small room, however you want to describe it.  Round, and about a foot wider on all sides, than the chair.  She strapped me in, a harness over each shoulder, and then shut the door, leaving me in pitch black.  I was in there for probably 15 minutes, doing a variety of tests.  She would project a laser beam on the wall, and I was supposed to track it with just my eyes:  up, down, left, right... Or she would project hundreds of white circles on the walls, and spin them, and I was supposed to try to count as many as I could, without moving my head.  Then we repeated these same activities, but with the chair moving left and right, at varying speeds.  And then I had to keep my eyes looking directly forward, even after the little red light was gone.

Most of what was happening was fairly interesting.  I'm a curious person, interested in a host of subjects, so I asked a lot of questions and wondered what it would be like to be an audiologist.  Not that I have the tenacity to get through eight years of schooling on the subject...

But oh, that tiny, dark room.  So disconcerting... so unsettling.  That little red light that was projected on the wall became my comfort.  It gave me focus, and perspective, and reassurance, somehow.  And when it was gone, I could feel my eyes flitting about, wandering almost of their own accord as I tried to hold them steady.

Naturally, I started thinking about the importance of light in a dark place.  About Jesus, the Light of the world.  About the pillar of fire that God used to light the way for the Hebrews.  I thought, "The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?" and "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path."

And when she turned the light off, it wasn't the spinning that bothered me, it was the darkness.  {Of course, I'm not a pilot, so I knew I wasn't going to have to make critical, if simulated, decisions upon the completion of the spinning.}

But even when the light was gone, God was still there, (I'm speaking metaphorically as well as faithfully.)  Because when the light was gone, there was still sound.  There must have been a vent or a fan of some kind, because I could hear air blowing, and though it wasn't loud, I could tell when my chair returned to facing forward, because of the position of that sound.  And then I thought about His promise that we will hear Him.

I thought about Moses hearing God in the midst of the burning bush.  I thought, "If today you hear His voice, harden not your heart." and "My sheep know my voice."  And I thought of His voice from heaven saying, "You are My beloved Son; with You I am well pleased." and "This is My Son; hear Him!"

It was not a difficult experience for me, although I was glad when it was over.  I wasn't frightened, or in pain or anything.  I was just tolerating it until it was over, in hopes of explaining why I've been experiencing my symptoms.  And yet, I was grateful for the reminders that He is always with us, and that we will always know it.  I wouldn't have thought so much about a tiny little dot of light, if it hadn't been the only light I could see.  And I wouldn't have thought about that sound, if my sense of sight hadn't been temporarily useless.

Seriously... this is what it looked like!

It was a nice reminder for me of what I've long known about Him, and a good illustration that sometimes we only focus on Him when our myriad distractions are removed.

~ "and God saw that the light was good" ~

Genesis 1:4

~

Choosing Light

"... they begged Him to depart from their region"

Matthew 8:34

This verse is one of those verses that, when taken out of context, is bizarre.  What on earth would be the circumstances of people begging Jesus leave them?  There were many who hated Jesus, but they were the ones with authority.  They would never have begged Him to leave; they would have threatened Him, or had Him escorted out of town.  No one with that authority would have begged Jesus, because that would have been acknowledging His power.

Earlier in the passage is another instance of Jesus being begged, but that time it was by demons.  Jesus had freed a man from demons, and those demons had acknowledged Jesus' authority and power by begging Him not to destroy them, but to cast them into a nearby herd of pigs.  The pigs then ran into the water and died.  Those who owned the pigs saw the whole thing, then ran into town and told everyone what Jesus had done.  The people responded by coming out to meet Jesus, and begging Him to leave their town.

Why did these people beg Jesus to leave?  Seems to me like having someone around who has the power to control demons is a good thing.  But perhaps the people in this town were overcome with fear.  Perhaps this town loved darkness.  Jesus said that those who love darkness hate the light.  I think these people, living in darkness, could not comprehend the Light of the World, and, like the demons, begged Jesus to leave them alone.

The response of the people of this city baffles me, and I take that as a good sign.  I would like to think that as someone who has the light of the Lord in me, I do not comprehend the darkness.  I recognize Him for the Light that He is, and I want more of Him.   

~ "Light is sown for the righteous,

    and gladness for the upright in heart" ~

Psalm 97:11

~

Answers to yesterday's quiz:

1.  Tarsus (Acts 21:39)

2.  Eunice (2 Timothy 1:5)

3.  Balaam (Numbers 22:30)

4.  Angel (John 5:4)

5.  Damascus (Matthew 11:21-23)

6.  Jehoiachin (2 Kings 24:8)

7.  Sycamore (Luke 19:4)

8.  Fish (Matthew 17:27)

9.  James and John (Mark 3:17)

10. Dogs (2 Kings 9:10)

Let the sun shine in

"the people who walked in darkness 

Have seen a great light"

Isaiah 9:2

Did you hear the wonderful story of the town in Norway that now has sunlight?  It warmed my heart ~ so to speak. 

The town of Rjukan is located in a valley, between two mountains that are so high, that for seven months out of the year, the town gets no sunshine. 

photo credit: tnp.no

But things have changed.

Just two days ago, Rjukans (if that's what they are called) enjoyed the first ever wintertime sunshine in their town, after mirrors were installed on one of the mountaintops, to reflect the light into the town square.

photo credit: bbc.co.uk

Now, I live in sunny Southern California, and if there's one thing we're in danger of taking for granted, it's the sun.  Rain is an endangered thing around here.  As a matter of fact, on days that start out cloudy, the kids and I are often rooting against the sun, hoping for the clouds to stick around.  We like the change of pace.

But living under a sky full of clouds is different than looking up at blue sky, on a sunny day, yet being unable to get out of the shade you're in.

For seven months out of the year, they live in shadow.  Can you imagine?  Missing the light and the warmth and the growth that comes from the sun.

As long as I live in Southern California, I don't think I'll ever stop appreciating cloudy days, simply because they are the exception.  But it will be a long time before I go back to being ungrateful for the warmth and light of the sun.

~ "He brought them out of darkness

and the shadow of death,

    and broke their chains in pieces." ~

Psalm 107:14

~

A Lesson from Three Guys Who Have Never Been in my Kitchen

"that righteous man, dwelling among them"

2 Peter 2:8

Okay, I'm gonna go out on a bit of a limb here, but if you stick with me, I think the point will be worth it.  At least, it was to me.

Abraham's nephew Lot
Alex Nsengimana
Erwin Rommel

What do these three men have in common?  Other than the fact that none of them have ever been in my kitchen?

Well, what they have in common is bad.  Bad situations, evil men, and the world around them seeming without hope.

Lot, as you probably know, was the last one out of Sodom before God unleashed shock and awe.  Or as it used to be termed, fire and brimstone.  Sodom was an evil place, as we see in Genesis 18 and 19.  Not even ten righteous men could be found.  Bad.  But in the midst of that was Lot.  2 Peter 2:7 tells us that Lot was righteous, and oppressed by the filthy conduct of the wicked.

Alex Nsengimana you've probably never heard of.  I read about him in an update from Franklin Graham's organization, "Samaritan's Purse".  Nsengimana is Rwandan, and in 1994 he watched his grandmother and uncle die in the Rwandan genocide.  He was raised in an orphanage.   Today he has a degree in pastoral counseling, and is taking steps to plant a church in Rwanda.  He grew up a victim of evil, but has chosen a life of light.

Now at this point, you might be thinking, "Erwin Rommel??"  I know it might seem odd to include one of Hitler's generals in a piece about good men and bad situations.  But hear me out.

Erwin Rommel, known as the Desert Fox, was a German Field Marshal in World War II. He was a very successful general, and as he was working for Adolf Hitler, that's not a good thing. 

But Rommel was respected even by his enemies, was never accused of war crimes, and treated captured soldiers humanely.  He ignored orders to kill Jewish soldiers and civilians.  In a 1941 article in a Nazi newspaper, it was reported that he was a member of the Nazi party.  Rommel insisted on a retraction.

And he was discerning enough to know that the end was coming, long before it did.  In November of 1943, Rommel told his associate, Hans Von Luck, that the war was lost.  And in October of 1944 he was forced to commit suicide after conspiring to overthrow Hitler.

War is an ugly thing.  Death and pain and fear and misery on all sides.  And the best thing you can say about any soldier who acts with honor, is that he believed he was doing the right thing when he did his job.  I have no idea if Rommel's life would allow him to be received in heaven, but I do know that when I read about him, I was reminded that there is good in bad things, and that there are good people in bad situations. 

No hopeless situation is truly hopeless.  God is on His throne.  It's true that every cloud has a silver lining ~ {at least it's metaphorically true.  I don't know if it's meteorologically true.}  And it's equally true that in every dark place, there is light to be found.

If you're in a dark place, and you can't see the light, keep looking.  He is there with you.  And if you keep looking and can't see the light, find a mirror.  Perhaps the light He has put in the dark place is you.

~ "The people who walked in darkness

Have seen a great light;

Those who dwelt in the land

of the shadow of death,

Upon them a light has shined." ~

Isaiah 9:2

~

Illumination

"a light to my path"

 Psalm 119:105

I had a wonderful opportunity, this past weekend, to spend some quality time with my Awesome Girl.  Our church had their annual women's retreat, up in the mountains, and this year we were both able to go.

It was a treat, because for the past few years, my schedule has not allowed me to go.  This year, when I signed up, the organizer asked if my daughter wanted to come, too.  I hesitated, because I was pretty sure that paying for two of us wasn't in our budget, but the organizer said that people in the church had donated money for anyone who couldn't afford to go, so she could be scholarshipped.  Seemed like the kind of circumstance God arranges, so I said sure!

We enjoyed the drive together, with her playing the dual roles of navigator and deejay.  And then, for some reason, the woman who was supposed to share our cabin with us was not able to make it, so we had the place to ourselves.  It made for a very relaxed weekend, with the two of us able to either ignore or enjoy each other ~ whichever we were in the mood for! 

The retreat location was a few hours from home, in a mountain community that has been built for this purpose.  They do family camps in the summer, and retreats and conferences throughout the year.  There are activities, several dining halls, and diverse facilities for sleeping, from small cabins to large rooms that sleep a dozen or more. 

And there are a plethora of birds, frogs and butterflies to photograph, which we did in our free time on Saturday.

And there was also a beetle.

A big beetle. 

But after the sun went down, you really remembered that you were far from civilization.  It was a five-minute walk from the dining hall to our meeting room, and another five-minute walk from there to our cabin, and at night, those pathways were pretty dark.  The moon was good-sized both nights, but we really needed the flashlights we had brought.

Well, actually, I had brought a flashlight.  A strong, tough Maglite flashlight that will both shed light on your path, and enable you to threaten the bear that's coming towards you.  Or, you know, the beetle.

{I'm kidding.  Don't threaten bears with flashlights.  

Stay away from bears.}

 She had brought her iProduct, which actually has a flashlight app.  Amazing.  Is there anything those gizmos won't do?

But we noticed something interesting about those two flashlights.  They were both good.  Bright and powerful.  But mine was a much more focused light.  A smaller circle of light, if you will.  Hers was a larger circle, less concentrated.  Mine enabled us to see our feet, and a little farther down our path, and hers let us see the bushes on either side of us.  Both valuable, and helpful to us.

It made me think of today's highlight verse, in Psalm 119.  I've always loved the wording of this verse, because it's one of those verses that seems repetitive, until you really look at the wording.  "Thy word is a lamp to my feet, and a light to my path."  You could gloss over that line, and just think it was two ways of saying the same thing, but it's not.  If you're traveling a tricky road, it's two different things to be able to see the path right in front of your feet ~ right where you're about to step ~ but also to be able to get an idea of your surroundings.  Not much, mind you.  I don't think that's what God wants for us.  He wants us to trust Him for most of what's going on around us.

But He does reveal enough for us.  He shows us what we need to know.  And He does that through His Word.  But we have to read it, and we have to ask His Spirit to open up our understanding.  And then we'll see what we need to see, and know what we need to know.

~ "love the Lord your God

      and walk always in His ways" ~

Deuteronomy 19:9

~

The Juice of Life

"you should not delay to offer...

your juices"

Exodus 22:29 

See this?

It's a juicer.  Or more appropriately, a citrus reamer.  It used to belong to my grandmother.  I remember that, because years ago when my mother became aware that I needed one, she said, "Here, you can have this one.  But it used to belong to my mother, so don't break it."

Believe me, every time I get it out of the cupboard, I grip it tightly.

Isn't it beautiful? 

I had washed it the night before, so it was just sitting on the counter waiting to be put away, and I just thought it was so lovely in the morning sunlight.  All those sides and angles  catching and refracting the light. 

But then I remember the job of this tool.  To ream. The fruit is pressed down hard on the tip, and then it is forcefully ground, in a twisting motion.  Seeds, pulp and juice are all dislodged.  Everything the fruit has to offer is extracted.  It's rather a violent act, although I guess that's somewhat appropriate in a room where things are beaten and whipped. 

A reamer accomplishes a great deal for its size.  And it does so forcefully.  And yet, in its own way, it's a work of art. 

There is beauty in the work that God is doing in us.  We feel like we're being scraped and scoured and rubbed raw.  We think we have nothing more in us to give.  And yet He's not done. 

The things that "ream" us are beautiful and intricately designed to do the job.   People, events, long-running circumstances, all are used by Him to bring out everything in us ~ the good and the bad.  The good to be a blessing to ourselves and to others, the bad to be discarded, leaving us just a little bit more like Him. 

It's often painful, but like so many difficulties in life, it's all in the perspective.  And maybe the only way to see the beauty is to see it in His light.

~ "You shall be like a tree

planted by the rivers of water,

that brings forth its fruit in its season" ~

Psalm 1:3

~

Lesson From A Lizard

"life and death"

Deuteronomy 30:19

I saw a lizard today.

I know; big news right?

It was an alligator lizard.  We've seen them two or three times around our house, but they are unusual.  Generally we see your more standard lizards.

This was the first alligator lizard we saw.  I don't know if the camera operator (my hubby or daughter) was getting progressively closer due to increasing courage, or just zooming in from a safe location.

An alligator lizard is longer than the common, everyday, average Southern California lizard.  And although they move at the same lightning speed as regular lizards, they're so long that it seems faster.  Their tales are are longer than their bodies. 

The first time the kids saw one, they were sure it was a snake.  It was in and amongst a lot of dried leaves in a corner of the backyard, and all they saw was that tail disappearing under a pile of leaves.

So our hero (their daddy) went out and managed to capture the thing in a bucket so we could get a good look at it.  Then he threw it over the wall of the backyard in the direction of our neighbor's house. 

I kid.

Well, I saw another one today.  It was out in the street.  I had walked outside to say good-bye to the Apple of my Eye as he was leaving for work, but first he had to put a few letters in our mailbox.  And his walking over that way drew my attention to the street, where I saw a movement I couldn't identify.  I said to him, "What is that?" and the two of us made our way a little closer. 

He was hard to recognize as a lizard because he was moving in a different way than I've ever seen.  Like I say, usually lizards are lightning fast; this one was moving very slowly, and with almost an undulating rhythm, from tail to head. 

As I got closer, I realized that he was an alligator lizard, but also that he had not much in the way of a tail.  I've seen that before ~ if a lizard gets caught by a bird, his tail will drop off, giving him a chance to escape, but also maybe distracting the bird, as the tail can keep moving once it has detached. 

So this lizard had no tail to speak of, and frankly it looked like the tail-ectomy had happened very recently.  First of all, the nub was very blunt, not at all rounded off as they tend to look when they are growing back.  Secondly, the coloring was stark.  Red.  I don't really know if lizards bleed, but that's what it looked like. 

The other reason I had a hunch that it had just happened, was the crow about eight inches away from him.  The lizard was doing his undulating thing, making his way across the street, and the crow was hopping every few seconds, keeping the lizard fairly close, without really getting any closer.  But I guess the lizard just couldn't go any faster.

But everything changed as we came nearer.  The crow flew away from us, about 20 feet, and I said to my sweetie, "Oh, it's an alligator lizard.  Or most of one." 

He assessed the situation for a minute, and then said, "Well, we can just let the circle of life do it's thing, or I can try to catch it and throw it in the bushes."

And I thought for a second, about crows being hungry, and lizards not wanting to die and how if the Apple of my Eye didn't leave in the next two minutes or so, he might be late to work.  Which would not have been a huge deal, really.  He would have done it if I'd wanted him to. 

And I mean, really, this whole thinking about it thing only lasted for a few seconds, and then suddenly, the lizard took off.  There was that lightning speed I was used to.  He dashed under a parked car, only a few feet away from some bushes, and the crow flew away. 

I was inspired.  It was a message I wanted to share with a few hurting people in my life.  People who are hurting, but dragging, you know?  Lost?  Discouraged?  That lizard chose life!  He saw his chance, and he took it!

Nothing makes me sadder than people who feel helpless to take control of their lives.  Sometimes people are victimized by bad decisions of their own, or circumstances over which they have no control.  But joy is there for the taking.  Peace, contentment and faith ~ they all belong to us!  They've been promised to us!  But we take our eyes off of God, and we focus on what's negative in our life, and sorrow and despondency rule our attitude.  We think we have no escape.

Refuse, my friends.  No matter what today looks like and what you fear from tomorrow.  Choose light.  Choose joy.  Choose life!

~ "I have set before you life and death,

blessing and cursing;

therefore choose life,

that you might live,

both you and your descendants;

that you may love the Lord your god,

that you may obey His voice,

and that you may cling to Him,

for He is your life" ~

Deuteronomy 30:19-20

~

Being a Light in the Darkness

"on a cloudy and dark day"

Ezekiel 34:12

I really like my car.  Which is a blessing to me from God.  Not just the car, but the fact that I like my car.  I live in Southern California, in a car culture.  We do more driving here than in other parts of the country, so I'm very glad that I get to enjoy driving.

I love that it's comfortable to drive ~ not too big and not too small.  I love that it has a sunroof.  Although, my kids would tell you that I consider it my all-weather-roof.  The only time I don't like to have it open is when the sun is shining too brightly.  I love having it open all other times, even at night, and in rainy weather.

And I love the color of my car.  I think the manufacturer called it teal, but it's more complex than that.  There's a sort of undertone of gold, but it's not always noticeable.  You can really only see that when the sun is shining on it.  If the sun is not shining directly on it, it's just a teal color.  Lovely, but just your basic teal.

But on cloudy days, the car takes on another color entirely.  It's a color I call Chesapeake, because it looks like a murky sea on a rainy day.  Gorgeous.  If you like that kind of thing.  Which I do.  And I've gotten a lot of compliments on it.  There was even a time when a woman caught up to me in a store and said, "Is that your teal car?"  I told her it was, and she said, "It's such a beautiful color."  And that was a cloudy day. 

So not only is it a cool color, it's two colors ~ one in the sunlight, and another on cloudy days.

There's a pretty good contrast.

The weather has finally turned to Autumn, here in sunny Southern California.  So a few days ago, when I walked out to my car and remembered how pretty it is on a gloomy day, I took it as a challenge; a reminder that I don't have to be dull and colorless when I'm walking through clouds in my life.

What color are you when things are dark?  Are you dismal and dreary, or is there a depth to you that draws others?  What is revealed in you, in the light, and in the dark?  We can be beautiful, in Him and through Him, no matter what our life is like. 

~ "your heart will rejoice,

and your joy, no one will take from you" ~

John 16:22

~

Lights in the firmament of the heavens

"See the highest stars, how lofty they are!"

Job 22:12

Did you see any of the meteor shower this past weekend?  It was so cool.  We lay out in our backyard both Saturday and Sunday nights, but Saturday was definitely the better night.  We saw several meteors streaking across the sky.  Some smaller and briefer, others larger, and leaving a trail behind them for a second or so. 

Photo credit: earthsky.org

We lay on the ground in our backyard for 45 minutes on Saturday night, and about 20 minutes the next night.  We probably would have tried to last longer, but we'd all been swimming that day, and that, and the heat we've been having lately, had left us a little drained.  And of course, it's really not very comfortable to lie on the ground for any prolonged period of time...

But it was fun to lie there next to each other.  We talked and laughed and quoted movie lines, and then oohed and aahed and pointed at the sky.  Which was silly and pointless really, when all four of us were already looking at the sky....

But there was also silence for long minutes.  We just lay there and looked and thought to ourselves.  And I don't know about them, but I was thinking a lot about God.   I thought about when He created the heavens and the stars.   I thought about how many stars He has put up there, and that I can't even see them all!  I thought about the patterns they make, and the differences from season to season and hemisphere to hemisphere. 

If everything He has created reflects Him, then I think stars reflect His beauty, and His mystery.  And His light.  And sparkle.  A lot to think about.  And such glorious thoughts to think!

~ "He counts the number of the stars;

He calls them all by name" ~

Psalm 147:4

~ "I consider the heavens, 

the work of Your fingers,

the moon and the stars, 

which You have ordained" ~

Psalm 8:3

Don't look! Up in the sky!

"take heed, lest you lift your eyes to heaven"

Deuteronomy 4:19

Did you hear about our solar eclipse last week?  Several southwestern states, along with a few Asian countries got a great view of an annular eclipse.  For us, the best sighting was dinner time ~ between 5:30 and 6:30.  We had made one of those pinhole cards for indirect viewing, and we were out in the backyard casting shadows to see if we could tell yet, how much of the sun was being eclipsed.  It was hard to tell, though without looking directly at the sun, which all the experts strongly caution you not to do.

The green tint is the welder's mask.  Awesome Girl held the camera inside the mask for these.

But then we went out in the front yard, where some of our neighbors had gathered.  One of our neighbors is a welder, and the shield on his welder’s mask protected our eyes well enough that we could look directly at the sun, and see it being eclipsed by the moon, little by little.  

The sight of the sun being blocked out is fascinating.  We knew we were viewing something that doesn’t happen very often, so it was exciting, and educational.  But there were other interesting effects, too.  

This one is from behind a heavily tinted piece of plastic.

First of all, the temperature.  The light of the sun was impacted for about an hour total, and the more of it the moon blocked, the more the temperature dropped.  It didn’t feel like winter or anything, but there was a noticeable 10-15 degree difference at the time the sun was at full eclipse.  Literally it was like going from sun to shade in a matter of minutes ~ except we weren’t in the shade.

Secondly, the light changed.  There is still so much sun shining around the moon, even at full eclipse, that there was still plenty of light.  And yet, it was different.  It wasn’t like early morning, or early evening, when the sun is hidden by the horizon.  It wasn’t like a cloudy day; there was too much light for that.  Even as I chatted with my neighbor, I still had to shield my eyes with my hand as I was facing the sun.  The closest thing I can compare it to, was memories from my childhood, of when a thunderstorm was coming.  Where we live now, we rarely have thunder and lightning, but where I grew up, we had plenty.   And I remember, in the last minutes before the clouds took over the sky, the sky often had a greenish-yellow tint to it.    That’s what this reminded me of.  Not exactly like that, but there was a weird, cool-colored tint to the sky, even though there wasn’t a cloud anywhere.

But the other thing that really struck me is that you couldn’t look directly at the sun.  Well, you could, really, but more than that, you shouldn’t.   My eyes are pretty sensitive to the light normally, and I wear sunglasses when I'm outside.  But even so, I really wanted to look up and see the sun, even when it wasn't my turn to use the mask as a shield.  We were sort of passing it around, and I got a turn more than once, but in the in-between times, I wanted to peek.  And it felt like it would be okay, because the sun clearly wasn't as bright and hot as usual.  

But you still can't look.  The sun's rays have just as much power to damage your retina as they do at any other time.  So I had to quash my curiosity, and stifle the urge to look at the eclipse with my unprotected eyes.

God is the same way.  In Exodus 33, Moses said to Him, "Please show me Your glory."  And God responded, "I will make all My goodness pass before you, and I will proclaim the name of the Lord before you.  I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion.  But you cannot see My face, for no man shall see Me and live." 

And I don't even think God was saying, "you may not"; I think he was saying, "You can not."  I think we simply can't handle it.  He is too bright, too magnificent, too glorious.  I don't even think we can handle full knowledge of Him.  Our brains are too finite, too earthbound to comprehend all that He is.   What He has revealed to us in His word, is beauty and knowledge enough for us, accompanied by glimpses of His love through the people around us. 

At least, for now... 

~ "Beloved, we know that when He is revealed,

we shall be like Him,

for we shall see Him as He is" ~

1 John 3:2

Viva la difference!

"we have different gifts"

Romans 12:6

I met an amazing person last week.  And I know that even though I know next-to-nothing about him...   I know his name is Andrew.  And I know where he lives.  I think that's it. 

We were driving around last week looking at extravagant Christmas light displays, and we headed a few miles away to one we had read about in the paper.   But this family ~ this man ~ had gone beyond the typical "string-of-lights-hanging-from-the-eaves-of-the-house".  He'd even gone beyond "lights-over-every-square-inch-of-house-and-lawn" and "lights-flashing-in-sync-with-the-music-on-the-radio-station". 

This home had decorated elaborated on the inside, too.  On the front porch area, in the entry hall, the family, the living room, the dining room, the hallway.... all full of miniature figures and houses and lights and ornaments, and all themed and color-coordinated.  I know all this because everyone who came to see the light display was invited into the house.  He just stood there in the doorway, wearing his Santa suit and a light-up elf hat, welcoming strangers into his home, with a smile and a handshake, for a cup of cider and a healthy dose of Christmas cheer.

And this, to me is amazing.  I mean, I decorate my house, but it's nothing unusual.  I decorate the inside, too.  I have ornaments and decorations that mean a lot to me; that I'm quite fond of ~ proud of, even.  But I gotta tell ya, I'm not inviting any strangers in to view them.   So I'm amazed at the outgoing personality necessary to decide to do this.  Especially every night during the Christmas season. 

I'm so glad for all differences that God created between you and me.  It's the variety of gifts and passions and interests and energies in the world that makes us all able to be a blessing to one another.   I don't think I'm ever going to have what it takes to be that open and welcoming with strangers.  But I might be someone who blesses Andrew in some other way.  Or maybe I'm able to bless someone who blesses someone who blesses Andrew.  Well, you know what I mean.

God's got it all figured out.  Just do your thing, for someone else, and God will pass it along!  :)

~ "We have different gifts, 

according to the grace given to each of us" ~

Romans 12:6

Let there be colored lights

"Like a rainbow shining"

Ezekiel 1:28

It's first thing in the morning, and it's cloudy out; the rain is on its way.  When I got up this morning, the first thing I did was turn on the Christmas tree lights.  I just love how the colored lights change the whole tone of the room.  Generally, I don't turn on the tree lights during the day; with the sun shining outside, it's just too hard to appreciate them, so I wait until evening.  But this morning, with the wonderful gloom outside, it's just lovely.

I think there are few things more beautiful than colored lights.  They combine two of my favorite things:  color, and light.  It makes me realize that a little darkness makes the light more beautiful.

It also makes me think of heaven.  Three times in Scripture (once in Ezekiel and twice in Revelation), we are told that the radiance of God in heaven compares to a rainbow.  Even better, it's like an emerald.  I've always had trouble understanding that, because how can something be green and rainbow?  But today, I look at my Christmas tree, and I think I understand a little better. 

Can you imagine what it would be like to describe a rainbow to someone who's blind?  The best you could come up with is that it's several colors, and striped.  But you really wouldn't be doing justice to the shimmering iridescence, right?  So it must be with Scripture.  The writers of Ezekiel and Revelation were given the unenviable task of describing to us the unparalleled beauty of God in His heaven.  And although they were inspired by the Holy Spirit as their "ghost" writer (ba dum bum) they were also restricted by words ~ or lack thereof.

Earth ain't heaven.  No two ways about it.  But I'm grateful that His Word tells a little of what we can hope for, and I'm glad He knows how much I appreciate the glimpses He gives us here on earth.

~ "The One sitting on the throne 

was as brilliant as gemstones...

And the glow of an emerald 

circled His throne like a rainbow...

From the throne came flashes of lightning 

and the rumble of thunder.  

In front of the throne

were seven torches with burning flames.   

and a shiny sea of glass, sparkling like crystal" ~

Revelation 4:3-6

Thoughts on Flying

"caught up in the clouds"

1 Thessalonians 4:17

I spent a long day flying home from Thanksgiving vacation this week, with the Apple of my Eye, and our Amazing and Awesome kids.   Flying gives one a lot of time to sit and stare into space ~ literally.  So here are some of the things I thought about:

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I just cannot bring myself to "recline" my seat that three inches.  It just seems like the little comfort that is going to bring me, is at the cost of the discomfort of the person behind me.  So if you're ever on a plane with me, you might want the seat directly behind me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

As I sat in the airport waiting, I could hear phone conversations around me.  People with time to waste, after having gone through security, now waiting to board.  So they check in with family ~ either one last "goodbye," to the people they are leaving; or a "see you soon" for the ones they are coming to.  And almost every one of those conversations ended with "I love you".  My conclusion?  Everyone loves someone.  That's nice.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Cell phones?  They're nice, too.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

I also saw more than one grown-up "child" who had seen their elderly parents all the way to the gate.  In both cases one of the parents was in a wheelchair.  I didn't know anyone was allowed to come all the way to the gate unless they were boarding the plane.  Maybe the airlines make an exception for wheelchair passengers.  But there's something so beautiful about grown children watching over and caring for their parents, as their parents once did for them.  "Good-bye Mom.  See you soon," they say, hoping they will.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Airports make me want to cry.  Airports are places of beginnings and endings; of joy and sorrow; of "until next time" and "I might never see you again."  There are tears of happiness, and tears of sadness, I have a strict rule that no one cries alone in my presence {name that movie!} so I tear up, too.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

By and large, airport employees are amazing.  A largely thankless job; probably tiring, too.  Air travel used to be for the wealthy.  So they were treated appropriately.  "Yes, Sir" and "As you wish, Ma'am."  Now, it's hard not to feel like cattle, herded from one spot to the next.  From check-in, to security, to the gate, to the line to board, to your seat.  Then back down the jetway, moo-ing along to the baggage claim.  Then, to your form of transportation, where you might even have to wait in another line, for a shuttle, or a taxi.   Even if you are wealthy, that doesn't mean you can skip those steps.  None of that is the fault of the airline or airport employees, but I'm sure they are often made to feel like the bad guy.  And yet I've gotten more pleasantries out of airline and TSA employees than I have from my local grocery store clerk.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

The view of earth, from above, is unlike any other.  Since very few of us will ever get to see it from space, other than in pictures, we have to content ourselves with looking out the airplane window.  And sometimes that view is amazing.

A river, from above, as the sun is getting ready to set, shines yellow and glistening as it snakes its way across the land.

A mountain, which rises to glorious heights from the perspective of earth; an extreme of topography, becomes merely a beautiful wrinkle in the fabric of earth.  Still clearly jagged, and fiercely different from the land that surrounds them, they provide much-needed perspective to the ground below. 

A sunset, seen from the air, is unlike anything else.  Deep, deep blue at the top, gradually becoming bright yellow at the bottom.  It's a rainbow of color, in its own way.  The other day, I saw the sunset from the sky at about 3:00 in the afternoon.  It was beautiful.  Then I landed, and two hours later I saw the sunset on earth.  It was beautiful again.  How many times can we say we've seen sunset twice in one day?  I felt like I'd gotten a glimpse into the future.

Or sometimes all we can see is clouds.  A blanket of clouds ~ which really does look like a blanket ~ obscuring the earth and making us feel we are far more than just a few miles above the earth.  A few miles above earth, and a few miles closer to Him.

 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

~ "The Lord Himself 

will descend from heaven with a shout, 

with the voice of an archangel, 

and with the trumpet of God.  

And the dead in Christ will rise first.  

Then we who are alive and remain 

shall be caught up together in the clouds 

to meet the Lord in the air.  

And thus we shall always be with the Lord." ~

1 Thessalonians 4:16-17

Are the stars out tonight?

I love that song.  "Are the stars out tonight?  I don't know if it's cloudy or bright.  Cuz I only have eyes for you..."  It was made famous by Frank Sinatra, but I think it goes back all the way to the 30s.  I don't even know the whole song, but I can't look up at the stars without thinking of that first line.

"Look up at the sky and count the stars ~ 

if indeed you can count them."

Genesis 15:5

I thought of that song tonight, and then I thought of this verse:

"He determines the number of stars 

and calls them each by name"

Psalm 147:4

I happened to notice the stars tonight, because there were so very many of them.  More than I'm used to seeing.  We're away from home tonight, so the stars look different from they do at home.  More of them. I mean, there's not more than there is at home, but I'm out of the city a little more, and I'm able to see a lot more of them.

"Is God not in the heights of heaven?  

And see how lofty are the highest stars!"

Job 22:12

I noticed all those stars this evening, and I found myself comforted in knowing that, even though I can't always see them, they are there.  As is their Creator.  Always there.

"I consider Your heavens, 

the work of Your fingers, 

the moon and stars, 

which You have set in place"

Psalm 8:3

Light.  Serenity.  Peace.  Sacred.  Created.
And I just wanted to thank Him.

"Praise Him, sun and moon; 

  praise Him all you shining stars"

Psalm 148:3

The season of light

"He separated the light from the darkness"

Genesis 1:4

I ate in the dark last week.  Don't ask.  I know, it's very strange, but there was a perfectly logical explanation.  At least, it's logical to me.  But it might not be for you, so you probably shouldn't even ask.  Unless you're someone who knows me, and understands me very well.  Then it will make sense to you.  But otherwise, nevermind.  Unless you're somewhat like me.   In which case, even if you don't know me very well, or at all, you'll probably understand.  But if you're not, then forget it.

So it was dark.  Fried chicken.  And some tortilla chips.  And water, which I brought myself.  But that's neither here nor there.  Have you ever tried to eat fried chicken in the dark?  It's a little tricky.  Cuz there's bones and stuff.  Ligaments or whatever.  Stuff you can't eat.  So you use your teeth to pull off the moist, juicy, delicious meat (am I making you hungry?) and then if you get a little piece of bone or tendon or ligament or gristle or whatever those things are that you can't eat ~ now you're not hungry anymore, right? sorry. ~ Anyhow, you just set those things  on the side of your plate.  But then, if you're not careful, you're liable to pick up one of these things, when you think you're picking up a tortilla chip or a little piece of chicken, and try to eat it, and find you can't.  

But I did okay.  Enjoyed the chicken, and the tortilla chips, and the water, which I brought myself.  But that's neither here nor there.   I did just fine eating my dinner in the dark, and here's why ~ I wasn't totally in the dark.  There was a streetlight nearby, and the lights of a couple nearby buildings.  I had the radio on in the car, and that was giving off a little light.  And the light that there was, kept it from really being dark.

See, darkness is a funny thing.  It's relative.  Generally speaking, no matter how dark it is, it could be darker.  I could have turned off the radio in my car, and lost the benefit of that light.  And what if the buildings I was near turned off their lights?  And then what if the streetlights went out?  Well, there would still be ambient light simply because I was in a city.  And if the city had a blackout?  Well, there still would have been stars.  So even though it seemed dark to me, I knew it could have been a whole lot darker, and I was grateful for the sufficient light I had.

I've only been in complete darkness a couple of times in my life, that I can remember.  Once, was camping.  I woke up in the middle of the night, and everyone had gone to bed.  There were no neighboring fires or lanterns or flashlights.  It was one of those moments where I couldn't even figure out where I was, but it only lasted a moment, and then my eyes adjusted enough to recognized the dark shape of my husband next to me in the dark tent.  So even that "complete" darkness wasn't "complete" once my eyes adjusted.

The other time was in a cave.  We'd done a bit of spelunking with a tour group, and when we were in there, the guide turned off the electricity in the cave.  Wow, was that dark.  I literally could not see my hand in front of my face.  It gave me a panicky feeling for a second ~ until I looked down at my watch.  The glow-in-the-dark face gave me some sense of depth perception somehow, which seemed to make a difference.  And then tour guide turned the lights back on before I really had the chance to see if my eyes would adjust to what seemed like total blackness.

A little light makes all the difference.  He knew that.  He knows that.  Do you?

In the United States, we are getting ready to celebrate "the holidays".  Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and New Year's Day.  And Hanukkah is in there, too, for the approximately 2% of Americans who are Jewish.  I know that many of you outside the U.S. celebrate Christmas, though your traditions may be different than they are in America.  And many of you may have a holiday similar to our Thanksgiving, but maybe not on the 4th Thursday in November.   At any rate, it's a busy time for most Americans.  There are parties with friends, and get-togethers with families.   There are also lines to wait in with complete strangers as we shop.   Any of these situations might prove to be stressful in a season in which we are also dealing with a full calendar, financial anxiety, less exercise and more junk food than usual. But if you are feeling all of that, then probably so is someone near you.

In a time of anxiety or stress, how dark is dark?  How much light can you bring to a dark situation?  Remember, it doesn't take much to make a difference.  And the light you bring to someone else will brighten your situation, too.

We're all different.  You might have the personality of a bright light ~ outgoing, friendly, exuberant.  But even if you are shy and cautious around strangers or groups of people, that might be just the gentle candlelight that someone needs.

Be the source of light in a situation, and though you might not even notice the darkness, someone around you will notice the difference.

~ "Live as children of light" ~

Ephesians 5:8

You've Got Mail

"The people read it and were glad 

   for its encouraging message"

Acts 15:31

There’s something wrong with our answering machine.  The red light is blinking like we’ve got a message, but there’s no message.   It’s driving me crazy.  I keep trying, just in case.  I push the button to receive the messages, but there’s nothing there to receive.  And yet the light keeps blinking.   So then I just give up and walk away, but the next time I walk by it and see the light blinking, it starts driving me crazy again.  I think it’s something about closure.  

An answering machine is a handy device, though, isn’t it?  Makes life a little more efficient.  Do you remember the “olden” days, when you would call someone, and the phone would just ring and ring and ring.  You’d wait ten rings, then hang up, and try again later.  Now, we can play “phone tag” and the other person will know they are “it”.  We’ve done our part, now the ball is in their court.  (Did I just use a “tag” analogy and a “tennis” analogy in the span of two sentences?  English is a strange language…)

Or you can leave the whole message, and be done with the matter entirely.  “Sorry, we can’t make it to the party.   But we’ll see you Sunday at church.”  No call backs necessary, and I can get back to cleaning stuff off of my kitchen counter.  Efficient! 

And that made me start thinking, wouldn’t it be cool if God did that?   If He had a little red light, on my nightstand, or on my Bible that He could light up when He had a message for me?   You know how it is when you’ve been praying about something, looking for an answer, trying to make a decision, or to know if you should go left or right.  Sometimes it takes a lot of praying to arrive at an answer.   It would be so helpful if you could wake up in the morning, see that little red light blinking, and know that today, He would have the answer for you.

But immediately after that, I started thinking, “Well, really, He does.”  I mean, He doesn’t have a little red light, but He has a message.  Every morning.  Actually, several times a day.   The problem is ~ well, there are two problems. 

The first problem is, that the message He has for us in His Word, is not necessarily on the topic that's uppermost in our minds.   I might be praying for strength, and turn to a passage to read, and find that it's a passage on His sovereignty.  Not what I was looking for.  And yet ~ exactly what I was looking for.  Because if I'm feeling weak, that's when He's the strongest in me.  His strength is made perfect in weakness. (See 2 Corinthians 12:9-10)  So by all means, look to His Word for the answers to your questions; the solutions to your problems.  But don't be surprised if those messages don't look like you thought they would.  

The second problem is, that we don't even bother listening to the message He has for us.  I will tell you that I honestly believe that reading His Word is the single most important thing I can do.  For my day, for  my family, for my life, for my growth... and yet there are many, many days I don't "bother".  Too tired, too busy, too forgetful.  And I'm sure there's times when I think that I really have nothing to gain from it.  Or rather, that I'll get more out of crossing things off my to-do list.  I see the Bible lying on my table, but I don't see a red light blinking, so I get on with my day.  God could have a message for me on the subject of courage, or obedience, or faith, or love, or suffering, or peace, or joy.... you get the idea.  

Even if my Bible did come with a blinking red light, it would never go off.  No matter how often I read something, the red light would tell me there was something else I could read.  And I would simply become inured to the light.  Which leaves me where I am.  The power is mine ~ to see the Bible, to open it, to read it, to study it, to remember it.  His communication with me never ceases.  But it is quiet and unobtrusive.  No blinking lights, so ringing bells.  Just a still, small voice, waiting for me to listen.

~ "Behold, I stand at the door and knock.  

If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, 

I will come in to him and dine with him, 

and he with Me" ~

Revelation 3:20

Unseen Beauty ~ Seen

"The desert and the parched land will be glad;

the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.

Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom;

it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy."

Isaiah 35:1-2

I've recently been reading the autobiography of Helen Keller.  She was a remarkable woman.  She is truly a testament to what can be achieved in life, no matter what you have to overcome.

But I was especially impressed with how much she loved the natural beauty of the earth, which, of course, she could not see.  Here's what she said:  "It seems strange to many people that I should be impressed by the wonders and beauties of Niagara.  They are always asking:  'what does this beauty or that music mean to you?  You cannot see the waves rolling up on the beach, or hear their roar.  What do they mean to you?'"  And her answer was, "In the most evident sense, they mean everything.  I cannot fathom or define their meaning anymore than I can fathom or define love or religion or goodness."

I just love her analogy of comparing visible beautiful things to invisible beautiful things.  They were all invisible to her, but of course she still knew they were there.  There are beautiful things that are invisible to all of us, as she said, like love, faith, kindness.  So how did she appreciate things she could not see or hear?  

The explanation came later in her book, when she said, "Sometimes, it is true, a sense of isolation enfolds me like a cold mist... beyond, there is light, and music, and sweet companionship; but I may not enter.  Silence sits immense upon my soul.  Then comes hope with a smile and whispers, 'There is joy in self-forgetfulness.'  So I try to make the light in others' eyes my sun; the music in others' ears my symphony; the smile on others' lips my happiness."

Helen Keller found joy in simply knowing beauty existed, even though she couldn't see it.  There's a lesson there for us.

These quotes put me in mind of another literary heroine of mine ~ Anne Frank.  Want another take on the beauty of life?  This is what she had to say:  "In the evening, when I lie in bed, I end my prayers with  the words, 'I thank you, God, for all that is good and dear and beautiful.'  I am filled with joy.  I think about 'the good' of going into hiding, of my health... the 'dearness' of those I love, and the beauty which exists in all the world.... nature, beauty and all that is exquisite and fine.  I don't think of all the misery but of the beauty that still remains."  Amazing, isn't it?  But she continues, "My advice when one feels melancholy is:  go outside, to the fields, enjoy nature and the sunshine, go out and try to recapture happiness in yourself and in God.  Think of all the beauty that's still left in and around you and be happy!  I've found that there is always some beauty left ~ in nature, sunshine, freedom, in yourself."  

Isn't that remarkable?  And does it strike you that you are being advised to find beauty in nature, from a girl who could not go outside??  She had known these things ~ fields and nature and sunshine ~ but they had been taken away from her.  She spent her last years in prison ~ first an attic, and then a concentration camp.  But Anne Frank found joy in simply knowing beauty existed, even though she couldn't see it.  There's a lesson there for us.

See more than what you can see.

~ "The Spirit lifted me up 

between earth and heaven" ~

Ezekiel 8:3

We Need to be the "Lighthouse"

I have a treat for you today.  I had to go out of town, so I invited my Awesome Girl to be my Guest Blogger.  I simply asked her to write about something that she thinks is important for all of us to know.  She has chosen to share one of her favorite songs, and how it speaks to her.  Enjoy.

~ Lighthouse ~

Like ships bound for shipwreck

Most people just simply drift along

And miss their destination

Without knowing anything is wrong.

No direction and without a care

Feels so good and then you're lost out there

Don't you remember how it felt

'til someone showed the way?

It's up to you

It's up to me

To be the lighthouse

They should know they're not alone

So shine 
So they can see
 The lighthouse

And find their way back home

       -by Anthem Lights

I think that this songs has a great and special meaning. We have to tell people about the Savior. This is the reason we were put on earth; to shout the good news to everyone we see. As it says in the song, "It's up to you, it's up to me, to be the lighthouse". It's our job to guide people to the light. To tell about how God had, and has, such a great and awesome love for us, that He sent His one and ONLY Son, to DIE. He didn't send His Son to be our attorney and argue for us. He sacrificed His son. This is an amazing fact to me. Would you do that? Would you send your child as a sacrifice? Probably not. 


This is the truth we need to share with the world. Will you share it?

Matthew 5:14, 15

"You are the light of the world.

A town built on a hill cannot be hidden.

Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl.

Instead they put it on its stand,

and it gives light to everyone in the house."