I think that every person needs to be refreshed from time to time.  It is built into us.  Tonight there was a rain that lasted about 3 hours at my house.  I sat on my back porch and listened.  It was gentle, then stormy, then gentle again.  The drops fell steadily, sliding down creating slick, shiny green leaves.  They blew this way and that until finally, they rested.  The consistent beating of the drops made a splashing, humming sound…soothing.  It was comforting in a way.  I found myself transported from my hectic day to a place of refreshing…a restful place that promises a fresh clean tomorrow. The air will be crisp and breathing will be easy.  Green leaves, bright blue skies and cotton candy clouds will be more vivid in the morning light. 

God is like the rain.  Our lives get dry and cracked.  Our souls are parched and thirsty for him.  He desires us, and so he sends the rain of his spirit.  He consistently pours out his drops of love, trying to fill up our dry hearts. Drought conditions leave us desperate. We seek him, he sends a flood, and we go from drought to drowning.  His love overtakes us until we breathe it…in, out, in, out.  We are saturated and rest follows.  After his rain, our hearts are clean.  The heaviness of life is lifted creating a fresh outlook.  His light brightens the day and life seems somehow clearer. The rain washes us clean. It is a steady downpour.  Listen.  Can you hear his refreshing rain?

In John 17 Jesus prays the prayer of all prayers. A student of the scriptures could stay in John 17 for years and not glean all that Christ says in the passage. He knows that he will be killed in a matter of days.  It is the prayer of his death-bed so to speak.  If you knew you would die in three days time what would you pray?  What would be on your heart?

My prayer buddies came over tonight.  We are a small group of moms that love to fellowship and share our lives. Talking, laughing, and praying are three of our favorite things.  We do not get together that often, so when we do it is a blessing.  Our focus is our children. Wrestling through the teenage years has proven to be a prime motivator for prayer on our parts.  Tonight the discussion led us to question how to let go and still parent at the same time. It is a tight rope to walk. I was reading here in John 17, looking for something specific, when this part of the prayer jumped out at me.  It is the part where he prays for the disciples.  It makes me think about my children because it just sounds like something I would pray for them.  When I thought I might die, I had similar thoughts and prayers. 

“I have revealed you to those whom you gave me…I pray for them not the world for they are yours…protect them by the power of your name….While I was with them, I protected them and kept them safe…I have given them your word and the world has hated them, for they are not of the world anymore than I am.  My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one.  Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth.” 

If I am gone, or when my children leave the nest (coming very soon) I desire for them to cling to the word of God with which I have instructed them.  I know that they will not fit in here.  None of us who are followers of Christ do.  Yet I want them to walk in the truth. 

I had never thought of this prayer in this way before.  Check out the whole section from verse 6-19 and see if you do not agree with me. I guess when you think about it the disciples were his spiritual children.  I understand the heart behind the prayer by reading this passage from a parent’s perspective.  It causes me to know that Christ himself desires for my children to be cared for and protected.  As we send our children out into the world and away from us, we can rest easier knowing that Christ prayed this prayer and understands our desire for our children to know him.

If that was not enough, he goes on to pray for us.  He was about to die when he looked into the future and saw you and me. We were the prayers of his heart that night.  Whew, how humbling is that?  I was looking for this part of the prayer, when I stumbled onto the previous section, because this part talks about unity in the spirit.

“That all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you.  May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me.  I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one.  I in them and you in me.  May they be in complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.” 

Thinking about worship led me to this passage.  As I wrote about last week, worship is when our spirits unify with God’s glory.  It is uniting with God and each other in a powerful spiritual moment in time.  Here in John 17, it seems to describe this very thing.  We have been given the glory of God in order to become one with him.  When we enter into worship corporately this happens…united in heart and purpose.  The peace flows and glory is tangible in his presence.  It is what we hunger for. According to this passage, the purpose of this worship is that the world would know Christ, through watching us.  He gives us each different gifts and ways in which to worship him.  When we are worshiping him individually, he reveals himself to us through these gifts.  As we come together these individual gifts, blend into one body…the unity he is talking about in this passage, one may sing, another may dance. I am inspired to write, another is led to study his word.  All receive from him during these times of communion. We are one with him and each other. It is when we go out into the world refreshed, after such a time of worship that he draws them to us.  They see the joy and peace and long to share it.  They dare to imagine that relationships could be loving, as they witness the unity of the body.  This worship and the glory he pours out, is a billboard for God.  It is what Jesus most wanted to see when he prayed this prayer.  When we enter in to worship, his prayer is fulfilled. 

I love being in the presence of God.  There is nothing like it.  And while I love my personal secret place with him, there is just something about worshiping him when two or more are gathered.  A few people went to a friend’s house this past weekend to worship.  It was a casual time…sweet really.  I love it when his presence comes and you can feel his glory surrounding you. Peace settles like a blanket over the room and all who are in it.  You can feel your spirit begin to rest…sometimes it is when you are singing powerful words, other times it is when all is quiet.  New songs begin to flow from this place.  Many of the worship songs and hymns we sing were born here.  When our hearts cry out to him and his spirit answers, we are united with him and each other. In these moments, I never want to leave.  That is what heaven will be like someday.

            I think it is why, as believers, we are so set in our styles of worship. Whatever was happening when we first experienced his presence is what we long for. If you are a “hymn person” you have experienced the powerful words that usher you in.  If you are a “worship chorus” person you have repeated who he is until you feel your spirit believe it. Either way you are caught up into his presence.  I must admit these moments are what keep me coming back.  Oh, I know that worship is more than this feeling of peace, but wow, it sure is great to be surrounded by his glory. This past weekend was no exception. 

At the end of these worship times it never fails that someone, maybe everyone, says, “I needed that.”  It is as if in all the hustle and bustle of life we have forgotten how much his presence soothes us. When we are resting in the afterglow of glory, it occurs to us that we need this.  It is life sustaining, but more than that, it is relationship building.  There is a deep and abiding love that flows from the throne.  It is intimate, and we can only access it if we bow at his feet, a humbling but powerful place to be.  Giving up all that we are, to acknowledge his grace and goodness in worship revives us.  I do not know about you but I need reviving. 

After this time of communion, I was driving down the road thinking…just relishing the freshness I felt.  All was quiet in the car except for my mind.  I was expressing how grateful I was to the Lord for such a wonderful time with him when I said, “Lord I really needed that.”  And in his quiet life altering way he said to me, “I needed it too.”  One paradigm shifting sentence that hit me so hard I had to stop.

 God needs us?  He needs our worship?  He desires communion with my spirit…our spirits.  How many times have we sat in church just going through the motions when he was longing for us to enter in?  How many times have we just sung the words without understanding that we were on Holy ground?  This idea, this one quietly spoken sentence, exposed the heart of God.  He longs to meet with us corporately and pour out his peace.  He wants us to join together in humbly bowing to acknowledge who he is.  The quiet, the loud, hymns, or choruses…doesn’t really matter to him…he says, “Just worship me.  I need it.”  When we do, he comes and worships with us.  That is why we feel his presence so strongly…because he is there. He longs to know how we love him. It is not a style issue…it is a heart issue. Do we really know this?  If we did, I think it would revolutionize how we worship.  Our praises would meet his glory and we would experience heaven on Earth, because he needs to be with us as much as we need to be with him. He died for us after all.  To die for someone who doesn’t acknowledge you must be heartbreaking.  Fellowship, communion, and intimacy usher in his presence and his peace.  I don’t know about you, but I need that as much as he does. 

Who knew?  I mean you know that your kids are watching you.  You just do not fully understand what they see and how they see things.  This week Hannah had to write a paper about someone who inspired you other than a parent or a grandparent.  She go special permission to do me because of my cancer.  I was touched that she would do this.  Then to read her final paper I was completely amazed at all she wrote...she was watching and it is interesting to see her perspective of our year in writing.  I asked her permission to include her paper here...so here it is.  I am a blessed woman.

Fighting for Life

 

 “We need you to come home. It is important.”  My dad sounded serious, and I knew that something was terribly wrong.  As I drove home, a knot rose in my stomach.  I arrived to a somber scene; the anxious faces of my younger brothers were like statues frozen around my parents.  I had never seen my normally rambunctious siblings so placid. 

 

As my mom wept quietly, my dad’s strained voice choked out, “Your mom has ovarian and uterine cancer.”  This news hit me like a heavy weight boxer, right in the gut.  Suddenly thrown into the fight not knowing the rules, or how to throw a punch, it was as if my opponent backed me into a corner. I felt stunned, as if punched for the first time.  I could have never imagined that this could happen to my family.

 

A week later, the anxiety of my mom’s looming hysterectomy stole her positive outlook on life. She was afraid.  Chemotherapy came later, and for me, the hardest part of that was seeing my mom without her thick, coarse, black hair.  Baldness revealed how vulnerable she really was.  I realized she might not always be alive to help me.  It finally dawned on me in that moment, that my mom really was sick and that reality was a nightmare.  Chemotherapy sucked the life from her, she could no longer take care of our family by herself or teach students, two things she prided herself in doing.  Going up and down the stairs became a chore, and she would pull herself up by the handrail stopping every few steps to rest. She began to lose the color in her cheeks, and as her eyebrows fell out, her eyes were as piercing as two candles lit in a dark room.   Even though her eyes had lost their vividness and become dull, they still had determination of a warrior.  The physical changes in my mom were hard to watch, I had always looked up to her.  However, her courage to make it through gave the rest of the family hope that we would survive.

 

Through the rollercoaster ride, we call cancer; my mom still managed to keep our household up and running by delegating her responsibilities.  She encouraged many people by writing a blog each day about the trials she endured.  There were many tears even though she tried to be strong.  In those breakdown moments, I would see strain along with agonizing pain and I hurt with her.  

 

It was a relief the day my mom finished chemotherapy.   Joyful tears flowed as our family celebrated life.  Her hair began to grow back, but this time it was as soft and fine as a newborn baby’s.  Vivid hazel eyes emerged with a newfound sparkle and the rosy color in her face surfaced again.  Sometimes I still cannot believe that just last year she could barely get out of bed. 

 

Her new motto is “Live Fully.”  That is just what she does…live everyday with a purpose.  I see my mom through new eyes now, not just as my mom, but also as a strong woman of character.  The way she looked to God through everything, and almost always had a smile on her face, makes me proud that she is my mom.  I hope that one day I will have the same strength, character, and hunger for the Lord that she does.

 

 

I have a back log of ideas floating around in my head however, I also have my final portfolio due for my graduate class today!  I will be glad to have it turned in so I can get back to my really important writing here on my blog.  :)  How dare they work me this hard!  Just kidding, I am on top of my class, it is almost finished and when it is I will have some good stuff for you.  My next class doesn't start until Oct. 6th so I can get caught up.  I have had to make a list of things sparking in my head to write about ,so I won't forget them before I get to write them down.

Okay...I have just dropped my son off at a strangers house, kind of.  William was called earlier in the week and asked to join a rock band.  Aaron says he knows the guys and they are "good kids."  I trust his judgement because he usually is a pretty good judge of character.  These guys are high schoolers, so I was a little nervous about this. 

 However, just last week I was praying that God would give William an outlet for his drumming.  It seems the worship team at youth group has a drummer already, and while he likes marching band it is totally different from playing in a regular band.  Seeing this as a critical time in his life, I hit my knees asking the Lord to intervene and bring him somewhere to use his talent.  Now, God has a sense of humor, as we all know...a Christain Heavy Metal group calls him up this week.  While I am wondering is there such a thing as Christain heavy metal, William is begging to join. His face has completely lit up.  He has a serious glow of excitement about him. Very similar to when Hannah first went to Brazil...he has come alive.  Bill and I talk about it and agree to let him try it. We know and have always known that drumming is in his blood.  We have also known that talent could lead him into places we would never want him to go.  It is part of the gift God has given him.  To reach out to heavy metal kids...I don't know about that one...it is a stretch for me.  Every part of me says...don't you like orchestral music???  Can't you pick something else???  But my mouth says okay we will let you try it...but we have to meet the parents and the kids.  So I go today to take him and two big long haired guys come out.  I am gulping air...but in my head God says do not judge on appearances.  One of the guys comes over and very respectfully introduces himself...then the other does as well.  They are only practicing until 6:30 because they have church...is that okay with me?  Would you like to meet my dad?  Let us help you unload the drums.  I am stunned by this show of normal behavior.  I, of course know that kids are kids and they all are normal underneath the exterior, but I am so quick to pre-judge someone.  I am finding that the lesson in this adventure is quite likely to be for me.  I do not know if it will last or if William will like it but God is definitely on the move and in the business of answering prayers...even if it is ways we never dream of!  Now if you would kindly pray for me and my ears....

There is a crisp feel to the air today...I love it!  Fall is coming.  I can sense it in the clear clean breeze this morning.  I love the change of seasons.  The mountains are the hosts that usher in changes, giving us clues long before the actual arrival of the new season.  I have seen the tell tale signs...sourwood trees are beginning to go red.  They are the first ones to change.  The golden rod is blooming along the roads and in the fields.  The horses in the pasture are active and dancing.  It is fun to watch the changes gradually happen.  Like summer and fall are having a tug of war.  Fall is going to win...  :)  

This blog is an encouragement for some dear friends of mine whose family is currently facing more than one crisis at time.

Crisis arises, family rallies.  Emergency interrupts, friends rescue. Fear strangles, faith resurrects.   Life traumas bring out the best in people.  When all hell is breaking loose, those that love you, come to help.  Family and friends race to their knees on your behalf.  People you have not seen for years crawl out of the woodwork to support and under gird you with kind words. When the battle for life begins, there are cheerleaders in your corner you did not even realize where there.  Others that have experienced the fight before you, come beside to provide the hope that all will be well.  Neighbors you did not know bring your family dinner.  Friends honor commitments you made, and rescue you from not fulfilling them.   It is almost worth the trauma to see this amazing community in action…almost. 

 It is humbling really, to know that all of those people care so much about you and yours.  Perspective changes, as you watch from the bed or chair.  I for one had no idea that there were that many people I had affected in one way or another.  People would send cards that had the most wonderful notes about how I had somehow influenced their lives.  They were well-wishers that prayed, and held my name before the Creator of the Universe night and day…humbling.

  And what about the Creator of the Universe??  He poured out his spirit of peace in the midst of the turmoil that bubbled all around.  He showed his strength in my weakness.  The one that breathed the stars, whispered in my ear gently telling me his secrets and assuring me that he is sovereign.  He drew me closer to his heart and he does it still. 

A life threatening crisis gets our attention. It reminds us that life is a gift, that friends and family matter, and that God is in control.  We become aware of what is important and what is extra.  The little annoyances of everyday fade into the huge picture of who God is.  His love for us…these little tiny creatures…expands in our vision of a Heavenly Father who cares for even tinier details…like the cells in our bodies. 

Trauma also opens our eyes to see how blessed we are and gives us eyes to see others who are not.  Sitting in a waiting room with a loving husband at your side, makes you aware of the woman across from you without one.  Having visitors come and sit with you at a chemo lab shines a spotlight on a person that rode a bus to get there.  A man throwing up in a trashcan in the next chair over breaks your heart to pieces because he is all alone.  Everything looks different after a crisis.  It is as if God puts his eyes in your sockets so you can see past your own blessings to his compassion.  You realize there is a light in you, which glows from the inside out.   It attracts others to you and your family.  They are drawn by the love that you share with each other. They see the sharing of the burden of life, and you can almost hear their thoughts, “Is there such a thing as that kind of love?  Could I ever have what they have?”  Now when you see those questions on the faces of those all around you, your heart leaps to share the answer.  A kind word and a smile begin to open their hearts to the possibility that maybe, just maybe, there is something to this love they are witnessing.  The words you write, or the phone call you share can change someone’s whole way of thinking.  It is then that you realize that the crisis you have survived had a divine purpose. 

The bible says that all was created to display the Glory of God.  The blind man was healed, the lame walked, the sick got well, and the dead were resurrected.  People watched from a distance.  In awe and with hope they came to seek him…asking the unspoken questions, “Is this for real?” and more importantly “Do you love me enough to do it for me? Am I important?”  They longed to find him then, and they are watching still.  They will see him there in the hospital, hear him in your words, and feel him in your hugs.  Even now in your crisis…He is displaying his Glory.

Drats! Another UTI....I was so hopeful that I was dealing with it herbally.  I am on antibiotics yet again...after this round I will go on a low dose long term (12 weeks) version in hopes that will handle it once and for all.  DRATS!

On the brighter side...it is pouring down rain!  Is rain really a bright side???  Anyway, I love it.  We needed it so badly.  Thank you God for rain.

It is a day that we all wish we could forget, but we cannot.  We wish it had never happened, but it did. History changed 6 years ago today.  Even now, we still grapple with the enormity of what happened that day.  The images will not ever be erased from our memories.  For me, this year, I feel quiet…a reverent kind of quiet that mourns but does not weep.  The weeping has past. The nightmares are over…at least for me.  I am sure that the families still have them.  They remember the phone calls and the numb days of horror following.  Wondering, walking and waiting for some word from their father or brother or daughter.  Knowing that they were not coming home but hoping anyway.

 Hope. It is a word, which causes us to keep moving. Maybe…it could be…might…someday…in the future. Words that show us hope is still alive, the flame still burning.   For our country, hope calls to us, inviting us to a bright future free from terrorist threats.  It reminds us not to forget the loss of the innocent as we pursue the future. Finding our way back to innocence is not possible, but hope says we can overcome the thief that took it away.  We can trust that God is bigger than it all, and that with him hope springs eternal.  He is the spark of hope within us that never dies.  He urges us to move forward into his plans and purposes. The day…we will never forget.  The spark of hope for the future, we will carry with us always.