8/22/14

That Night at Dinner...

I've struggled with hospitality over the years, especially when you add food to the equation. I never knew what to do at another person's house and was equally uncertain what to do with them when they were at my house. When we had company, the house had to be spotless; I wanted the best china to be out and the prettiest table cloths. Hospitality meant giving my best, and my best was usually something that I would have liked to have done for myself and my family but couldn't afford the time, the effort, or the money. Needless to say, whenever I offered hospitality, I didn't really feel like myself. Most of the time, I felt like a fake. Looking back I can see how this stemmed from my own insecurities, but it often left me wondering about true hospitality, authentic and real, and what it looked like.

This week in hospice I was reminded of true hospitality. The nurse had given us notification a patient was beginning to transition and I knew I wanted to be with the patient and family for a little while that day, but I felt awkward, like I was intruding on something private and holy. The awkward feeling was not new to me, it was the same awkwardness I felt when having people over to my house for dinner; on the occasions I went to their house for dinner. When I arrived, I was immediately invited in and just sat quietly, occasionally shattering the silence with the sound of my voice. I was uncertain what to say, and sometimes felt uncomfortable not saying anything at all, but I cared deeply and wanted to be there. Every now and then, the family members or friends would venture out into the quiet and share a memory of the life they had known. In those moments, as I listened, I felt authentic. I felt the space they had provided and knew I was a part of this story. Quietly, I just reached out and took the hand next to mine, sitting, and listening to the story of the hearts in the room, when they were silent and when they spoke. It was place occupied by death and dying, but also filled with life and love. It hurt to be there, but none of us could have imagined or desired to be anywhere else. As the patient's family members cared for some of the intimate needs of the patient, I went to leave with everyone else, but the family stopped me and asked me to remain. Awkward and uncomfortable, I remained and added another memory to the story that grows inside of me with each encounter.

Tonight as I sit reflecting on my week and thinking of this encounter and so many others, I feel a little closer to the understanding of hospitality. A Scripture (Luke 7:36-50) comes to mind about a dinner long ago, with a room filled with men. They had all gathered together and were seated around the table in friendship and fellowship. It was an awkward night too though, because on that night, a single woman entered the room. She was an immoral woman and came right up to the son of God, the proclaimed Messiah. He was reputed to be righteous and holy, but allowed her to approach him, kneeling at his feet, weeping tears over them, anointing them with perfume, and wiping them dry with her hair. This was scandalous behavior in a culture that kept the men and women separate, and certainly did not look affectionately on such displays from immoral women to men who were a part of the religious community. Jesus was more than part of the religious community though, he was the Messiah and everyone following Him had heard him speak of His Father. It was beyond awkward and uncomfortable; yet, in that awkwardness Christ spoke. He spoke of love, mercy, forgiveness, and the GREAT GREAT love of God!!!!!! What an odd Scripture to reflect upon as I consider the family I was present with this week, but somehow I feel that in the most awkward moment of my visit...I encountered true hospitality in a way I have never known it before. No one was trying to entertain anyone. No one was trying to impress anyone. No food was set out. No board games were present. It was just love in that room as each person considered what this loss will mean to them and what a gift the life has been. In the presence of the living and dying, I experienced and heard love, mercy, forgiveness, and the GREAT GREAT love of God that Jesus spoke of to Simon on that night long ago, and knew that I had been in the presence of the most authentic hospitality.

8/17/14

REFERAL FOR A HAIR DRESSER GREAT WITH COLOR

I have been thinking for some time about doing something to my hair. When I was younger, I used to color it all the time and every time it gets to a cut or color that I get complimented on, I would decide to change it. These last couple of years our money situation has changed and I am not able to afford the luxuries I used to and am forced to consider whether or not I really want to do something different. So, the last couple of months I have been seriously considering what it is that I want to do with my hair. I have considered cutting it, but I really do like the length. My other alternative was to color it. With this thought in mind, I have pondered the price, who I wanted to do it, what colors I have been thinking about, and what might look the nicest. I watched What Not to Wear when we lived overseas and remember someone saying if my hair is to dark, as I am getting older, the shadows on my face are more pronounced. With this fact in the back of my mind, I thought about just getting highlights and lightening it. This will be more costly long term though because the roots have to be maintained to look nice. AHHHHHHH, the choices!

It is with all of this on my mind that I have been commuting to work and listening to the new Passion 2014 CD. Song after song has come on and I have memorized them all, about the great great love of God demonstrated on Calvary a day long ago. It was just this week though that it all really began to steep in my heart, like a tea bag in a hot cup of water. Slowly it continued to penetrate until I heard God speak to me about my hair. The response I received was, "Lisa, do you think I don't know what color looks nicest and most flattering on you? Do you think that MY coloring technique and style lacks training and sophistication? Each night as you sleep, I painstakingly put more highlights on the slender strands of hair on your head. I place them strategically and work hard to make sure they are perfectly done." I had never before considered God as my hairdresser. But as I considered this response, the Holy Spirit brought a couple of Scriptures to mind, with the first being:

1.     I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full  well. Ps. 139:14--To be "fearfully" made uses the same word as is used when we are commanded to "fear" the Lord, practice reverence for Him. God reverently made us! He was in AWE at His handiwork, you and me! The same wonder in the eyes of a parent as they first see their new born baby, is the same wonder in His eyes as gazes upon us! With this in mind, I can only imagine the painstaking perfection He would apply when highlighting my hair, with blond, red, gold, silver, gray or white, strand upon strand, night after night.

2.     Next, He brought to mind the Scripture verse, "Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." Luke 12:7--God loves me so much, He never loses count of the number of hairs on my head!!!!!! I see how many are on my pillow when  I wake up each morning. I notice the number of them that accumulate day after day and have to be cleaned out of the drain. And who could miss the number of them that stock up in my hairbrush and have to be cleaned out? Then there are the occasional hairs that drift slowly out of my head, onto my shirt, or lay gently on the car as I get out of the drivers seat, after commuting! With all of that loss, I couldn't keep count of how many hairs are on my head 24/7 and always have an accurate running total!!!! BUT my God does!!!!!!!!!!!~!

As I reflect upon some of the 1000 gifts I have experienced this week, I find myself thankful for men and women from England, who felt called to be missionaries to this great nation. I find myself thankful for their relationship with Jesus Christ, the passion it compels them to express and share with the world around them, and the marvelous way it opens my heart to hear the sweet expressions of love God whispers to me daily!

I had my hair trimmed this weekend and brought some styling product for it, but have decided to try a new hair dresser, One who I think knows more about me and cares more about how I look than anyone I have ever met. I am trusting God as He colors my hair, in this new season of life <3

8/9/14

True Courage

Psalms 56:3 "What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee."

I remember being a young child and always waking up in the middle of the night because I wanted a drink. After a few years of this, my mom and dad got tired of waking up to bring me a drink. I remember being 8 or so and my mother telling me I was old enough to go down to the kitchen and pour myself a drink. We lived in military housing, and our home was two stories. To get to the kitchen. I had to descend a short flight of stairs, go across a short landing, and then descend another short flight of stairs. Once I finished descending the first short flight of stairs, I could see down into the living room, and as I faced down the last flight and prepared to descend, I could see the hallway and the kitchen entrance across the hallway. Of course, everything was shrouded in complete darkness, and linked so black I couldn't see my hand in front of my face; that was even with the hall light on at the top of the stair case. I would standing on the landing, with the upstairs hall light behind me and the darkness before me, so thirsty I could taste the cold juice in my mouth. Terrified, I would remain frozen for a long time before I would take the plunge and sprint down the remaining stairs, into the darkness, dashing across the hall space, hurtling into the kitchen and fumbling for the light switch. There was really only one thing making those mad sprints possible! My mother had taught me a simple bible verse and told me that it would help me, it would give me the courage to do what I was frozen and terrified of doing, "Psalms 56:3 What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee Psalms 56:3!" That was my mantra, and the chant that poured out of my mouth as I faced the unknown. Over the years, there were times in my life when even that refrain was to much and it was the simple name "JESUS" giving me courage to press through my fear. Looking back, I can see how I thought the presence of courage would surely mean the absence of fear, but over the years I have learned that is not true at all.


Scripture has two primary words used for courage " 'amats" and "chazak". Both words are primitive root words, with no other origin. The first used in Scripture was used 12 times meaning "to strengthen". Other definitions from that root meant to be alert, to secure, to be bold, to persist in, to be determined, and to confirm oneself. The other word, chazak, was translated 48 times meaning to be strong, 47 times to repair, and 37 times to hold. In all of this, I have often heard and felt the Lord minister and speak to me true courage was not the absence of fear, but rather the trusting of Him to do exactly what He says He will do. To rely upon His strength to carry me. To allow His presence to surround me. To know He will never leave me, nor forsake me, and there is NOTHING He cannot do! The act of courage is done in the face of fear, and it strengthens my faith in God, and my relationship with Him. The act of courage is done in the face of fear, and displays a boldness, persistence, and determination as I enter His throne room for mercy in my time of need, confirming my love for Him and relationship with Him. It is the act of obedience in which I am repaired, as I hold fast to Him. Those mad dash sprints into the darkest rooms in the midnight hours prepared me to step out in faith and hold fast to unfailing love, but most importantly as He holds me fast in His unfailing love.

ABBA DADDY:
I am in absolute awe that You are the God of Angel Armies! I am absolutely humbled and amazed that You are on my side!!!!! You are faithful my God, faithful my King! Minister Your grace and mercy, Your amazing love, and faithful strength in each of our lives. May Your name be the refuge into which we run. May we know You as the shield around us and the lifter of our heads. May we know You as the God who has gone before us, who stands behind us, and who is always at our side. You are great and glorious my God! Let Your presence be the shadow in which we are hidden, as we remember Your great victory over sin and death, and rejoice in the wonder of the cross. Thank You for carrying us through the yesterdays, standing beside us through today, and going before us to make the crooked places straight, in which You will lead us tomorrow. Now, may we find rest, and comfort, as we are refreshed as the still waters and the green pastures with You. In Jesus' name, amen <3

8/3/14

A word of hope to the brokenhearted

Psalms 34:18 "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; He rescues those whose spirits are crushed." NLT

If there is anything I hate, it is crying alone! I cannot stand imaging someone sitting in a room by themselves, with tears falling down their face, and no one to wrap their arms around them and hold them close. I cannot stand thinking of them silently weeping with on one there to witness the most secret tragedies of the heart and the story that they tell. I absolutely cringe to think of someone sitting helpless, spending themselves in tears, and knowing the next time they see a person there will be a smile, filled with what others perceive to be sunshine, and no one knowing what it cost them to bring that sacrifice. My heart breaks over this thought because I have been a witness to the one who weeps alone. I have also been the one, curled up in a tight ball, behind the bedroom door, silently weeping and wishing someone would pull me close and hold me tight. It is for this reason this verse has ministered such hope to me through the years. I have never felt closer to the Lord than when I was at my most broken and the tears fell non-stop. Truthfully, I could not have stopped the tears if I had tried. They came without warning, and were very inconvenient. They revealed all my fears, all my sorrows, and all my shame. I HATED that I could not hide them! It was only then that I learned how very close the Lord is to the brokenhearted. 
I remember that night. It the was the first time I had experienced such a heartbreaking sorrow, struggle, and feeling of aloneness. I was not unfamiliar with sorrow and disappointment. I was well acquainted with tears, pain, and the discomfort it evoked in others to see it in someone. My masks were many and I was skilled at selecting which one to wear and how to keep it in place; however, that night was different. I sat alone, a single parent, in the dark bedroom, behind the bedroom door. I didn't even care I sat on the floor, my daughter asleep in the other room. My knees were curled up to my chest and my head hung on my knees while the tears fell and my heartbroken sobs rent the darkness. Completely lost, feeling more alone than ever before, I barely managed to use the name JESUS, but somehow the cry came forth. It was then I felt myself placed on His lap. I heard His heartbeat in my ear as I snuggled down in His arms, against His chest. His hand stroked my hair, and His lips felt warm on my hair. I knew that I knew that I knew that I knew, I was not alone and the Lord was nearer than I had ever known Him to be. I know I have a vivid imagination. I know I love poetry and all of the romantic things others say are nothing more than an ideal, but that night, in that moment, I met my Beloved in a way I had never known anyone before. I have cried many other tears, on many other nights, over much more heartbreak, since that time; however, my heart has always filled with such hope because of that night and the knowledge I have had that I am never alone. He is ALWAYS with me! I have found comfort and strength to know that I cannot erase heartbreak, and should trust what God can do with it. It has filled me with a faith that is exercised as a mother, as a grief worker, and as a minister, to know there is not one who cries without a witness to the secrets revealed in the tears, and the story they tell. I have learned the best rescue is not the one that removes me, but the One in who journeys with me assuring me of the destination all of the while.

ABBA DADDY: thank You that You are near enough to catch every tear that falls. Thank You that You are gentle enough to soothe our pain, wise enough to use it, and loving enough to listen to the stories the tears tell. As the day draws to a close, I ask that You, Great God, would wrap Your arms around this world tonight. And when You hear our cries, sing through the night, So we can join in Your chorus and sing along! In Jesus' name, amen <3