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Archive for October, 2012

Good morning, and Happy Thanksgiving!

As I contemplated how and what to share, this Thanksgiving weekend, my mind kept bring me back to that which I am most thankful for on this planet, my family.

Oh, I read numerous blogs, by many other (far more gifted) writers, but none could push the thankfulness I feel for this ragtag group of individuals who I share both blood and home.

So, today, I want to introduce you to a friend, a blogger, a work colleague, a teacher, and an extremely gifted photographer.

I first met Damara Moe … hum, I cannot remember the context, but I am certain that it was at the school we both work. She has taught our three kids (and my ‘faux daughter’) french. She has coached my daughter in basketball. She is someone who is the personification of warmth, encouragement and gratitude. I simply love her!

Damara is also a very gifted photographer. It is not just her technical photographic abilities that she is gifted in, but how she creates an atmosphere of comfort, of fun and of intimacy when she is doing a photo shoot. She also tops all that giftedness off by writing a most beautiful introduction to the photo shoot on her blog.

My weird and wonderful family arranged for us to have a photo shoot with Madame Moe, last year. For two hours we all felt as though we were the most beautiful people on the planet.

When the photo disc arrived it was in a simple but beautiful gift wrapped box, that I almost didn’t want to open … except that I was so very excited to see what was inside!

So, today, in honor of Thanksgiving, I want to share those who I am most thankful for, and the gifted talents of a lady who I adore!

Introducing, Damara Moe, the miracle worker!

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Last year I was feeling the heat about planning for our Thanksgiving meal.

I was finishing a week-long course (complete with exam), I was adjusting to working full time, our family was still adjusting to the addition of two members to our household, we were in the busiest part of our son’s football season, and so on.

All I wanted was to take the family out for dinner (a rather expensive option when seven people, most of them teenagers, are involved).

At the same time I yearned for the delicious smell of a turkey roasting. The turkey itself is easy, you simply season it, pop it in the oven and it does it’s thing. I had considered simply roasting big bird, and serving it, with a fork for everyone …

I decided I HAD to do what needed to be done, so I headed out (on Saturday) to get the essential parts of a good, home cooked Thanksgiving feast.

While at Costco, I noticed they had pumpkin pies for like really cheap. I stood, I pondered, I felt like I had Rosanne Barr on one shoulder and Martha Stewart on the other, battling it out for my families meal. Finally, I flicked Martha off my shoulder, winked at Rosanne, and thought, ‘this year we are having homemade by Costco.’

I was on a roll, and Martha was in the dust of my grocery cart.

I then purchase baby carrots instead of ones that need to be peeled and sliced. I bought a package of gravy mix … mine was never that great anyway.

I bought rolls, rather than make my own … really, with such a big meal, who would miss them?

I stood in the aisle and considered using stove top … but everyone loves my stuffing, so I thought it was worth the extra effort.

A few days before, we had guests who had brought a bouquet of flowers, and that was to be the centerpiece for our feast.

So, Thanksgiving Sunday morning I seasoned Big Bird, and popped her into the oven at a very low heat … because we would not be eating until the evening. We attended church, had a small lunch, popped the stuffing (which never gets stuffed into the bird) into a big casserole dish in the warming oven, cranked the heat on our roasting beast, and went to our son’s football game.

We returned home, and my daughters set the table, I cooked the baby carrots and frozen veggies, basted the bird, and unwrapped the homemade from Costco pumpkin pie.

We used to have a household of people over to enjoy meal together. This year it was just us, and that was quite okay.

It was a delicious meal, with ridiculous conversations, oodles of laughter, and very full bellies at the end of the meal.

Our beast got her bowl full of heart, liver and whatever else is in that little prize package they shove into the cavity of the turkey, and she lay at our feet while we ate, licking her chops.

As always, the stuffing was eliminated, there were significant veggies left over, and turkey in abundance for the week to come.

I didn’t miss the ‘old’ way of doing Thanksgiving. It was certainly different without other guests, but we got to spend our meal concentrating more on the ones for whom we are most thankful for, and that was a good difference.

So, yes, you can celebrate Thanksgiving without a homemade pumpkin pie.

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I was feeling discouraged and alone.

Choose joy …

Ugh! Not again! Those two words sneak up and shake me every time.

Choose joy …

But, but my heart is heavy!

If you choose joy, it will be light …

But, I feel sad!

If you choose joy the sadness will lift like morning fog …

But, this stuff is just not fair!

If you choose joy, fair will be re-defined …

But, my heart … well, it’s broken …

Mourning will last for a night … JOY comes in the morning …

But, I just want to be heard

He is always listening … choose joy …

But, I just do cannot see the future!

It is what we cannot see that is eternal … choose joy …

But, I want to see!

He has plans to give you a future and a hope … choose joy …

But, I just don’t know which way to go!

I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go … choose joy …

But, I am just so tired!

He enjoys giving rest to those he loves … choose joy …

Do you know what I am going through?

(silence)

Hello?

(silence)

Did you hear me?

He gave …

What?

He gave for you …

What did He give?

His only son …

Oh …

He knows what you are going through … choose joy.

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It was a Friday night, after a long, but good week. I felt drained of energy to the point of not being able to put two words together. When I reach this point, I have learned that the best thing for me is to go to a theater, eat popcorn, and watch a movie to escape for a couple of hours. So, I did.

As I was driving to the theater, a word came to mind that had been coming to my mind all week …

Dream.

I pondered the word, yet again …

dream.

Why was this word popping into my consciousness? What was that one word asking of, and requiring from me?

Dream

Was I simply too tired for a movie, and should be home dreaming in my pj’s between the sheets (that was a no brainer)? Should I be dreaming? What was the dream? How big was it? And what would it cost me?

I have to say that, by nature, I am a dreamer. My earliest memories of childhood were of playing with dolls and dreaming of the day that I would have my own, real babies. I can remember being a student in a classroom, after classroom, grade after grade, who would be staring out the window, daydreaming (one of my earliest memories of my UN-diagnosed ADD). My strongest memories of almost all of our homes is standing at the kitchen sink, staring outside, dreaming.

I am a dreamer.

Well, I settled into my movie theater seat, nibbling on the buttery popcorn (temporarily ignoring myfitnesspal), and that word continued to haunt me …

dream.

Sadly the movie started fifteen minutes late, and I was saddled with that word longer than I’d hoped I would.

Why aren’t you dreaming?

The word was getting personal. Thankfully the movie started, and I was able to escape reality for a couple of hours … or so I thought.

The movie was about fulfilling a dream, dreams really, of a number of people. It was primarily about the fulfilling of dreams that had been gathering dust in the lives of the characters. It was about the life, the real, conscious-living type of life, that chasing after those dreams gives.

I left the theater consumed with thoughts of dreaming. More haunting! And more resistance from my being, because I knew that my dream was too big to ever come true.

I needed music, so to the radio in my van I went for more diversion.

There was a speaker just coming on, a speaker who I loved to hear. He always made me think, made me laugh … a great combination!

As his program started, a word, a name came to mind … Jabez, and then it was gone, and I settled into my drive home, ready to be awakened from dreaming, and into reality by the teaching of the program just to begin.

“Lord I pray that you will expand the tent pegs of my life, intensify the use of my life.”

Oh no! I knew of those words! Words that have been used in discussing the prayer of Jabez (see more from yesterday’s post) from 1 Chronicles 4:10:

“Jabez cried out to the God of Israel,
“Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory!
Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm
so that I will be free from pain.”
And God granted his request.”

More dreaming

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A wise person theologian … one once said,

I think that our inner compulsion is to run from it. That gives us complete separation, and immediate relief. But does running from it have positive, long-lasting results? I do not know for sure that answer, but I tend to think it might chase us, and when we least expect it, re-surface again.

Then there is learning from it. Oh, how slow that process seems, and painful for to learn is to look at the pain and face it. But could more, long lasting good come from that process? I do not know for sure that answer, but I tend to think it is the better way.

There is a man in the Bible, of whom little is known, but one thing we do know is that he did not run from his past.

This man is Jabez. His one entry in the Bible is in the Old Testament book of 1 Chronicles. He shares his name also with a town near Bethlehem, but I am not sure if the town was named after him.

The accounting of Jabez, and his life is:

“Jabez was more honorable than his brothers.
His mother had named him Jabez,saying,
“I gave birth to him in pain.” 
Jabez cried out to the God of Israel,
“Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory!
Let your hand be with me,
and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.”
And God granted his request.”
1 Chronicles 4:9-10

Jabez was named by his mother, and I would guess that would not have been the norm, in such a patriarchal society. Now either his birth was horrific, or the timing of his birth was, or something else dreadful must have accompanied his entry into the world for his mother to have named him as she did.

The name Jabez is Hebrew, and it means sorrowful or pain. In those days, and within that Hebrew culture, a name was almost a prophetic statement, or a foundation for who this baby was to become. Andpas his mother saw his future as sorrowful or painful.

Whatever the reason his mother named him as she did, Jabez past followed him everywhere. Imagine the teasing of his childhood peers down by the well, “hey Sorrowful, having a good day? Oh, that’s right you NEVER have a good day, you are Sorrowful!”

He had a choice, run from it, or learn from it.

Well, it would appear that he did not run from it, heck, he didn’t even change his name, nor did God as He had of others in the Bible (Abraham, Sarah, Paul, etc.).

Instead, he somehow knew that the only hope he had of a future that was not sorrowful, was to pray. And pray he did:

“Jabez cried out to the God of Israel,
“Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory!
Let your hand be with me,
and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.”

His prayer was for a future complete with a relationship with the God of Israel, complete with blessing (perhaps the blessing he did not get from his parents), complete with God’s protection, complete with freedom from … pain. The prayer of Jabez is the desperate cry of a man born with a curse, with a past, and he knew it well. But, he also knew that he did not have to stay in his sorrowful state, and he knew the only one who would hear his cry … the God of Israel.

“And God granted his request.”

And, He will hear our cries to be freed from our hurtful pasts,
we just need to learn to cry out to the One who will hear us,
to change the direction of our lives.

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Twenty-three years! How can it be?

What were we thinking twenty-three years ago, as we stood in front of friends, and family, and God promising to love and honor and obey (yes, obey) “until death do us part”?

I know what I was thinking, “this is going to be easy, because we are so much alike.”

Ya, right! Of course we had only met about one year earlier, so, what we knew of each other was alike, and what wasn’t was shaded by rose-colored glasses.

We were young, too young (I say that as a now older woman who can see what each of us may have missed out on … the gift of knowing God’s calling for us as individuals before we were to become one couple … but that is topic for another post). Hubby was fresh out of university, only twenty-three. I was fresh out of my drafting program, just twenty. And we embarked on a lifelong, covenant relationship.

After twenty-three years, I now know that we are more opposite than alike, and easy could never describe marriage.

I also know that what we share, similarities and differences alike, is held together by the covenant that we both hold dearly. The marriage covenant is more commonly known my the word promise, but a covenant is more than a promise, more than something you say, more than something you do. It is a vow that includes us two, and the originator of covenants.

Really the marriage covenant is a metaphor for the covenant that God made with Israel (Genesis 17:7):

“I will establish my covenant, an everlasting covenant
between me and you and your descendants after you

for the generations to come,
to be your God
and the God of your descendants after you.”

God’s covenant was that He would be the God of Israel, from before the beginning of time (everlasting) to everlasting. A marriage covenant is like this in that it is a promise between a woman and a man that nothing will separate them, like God from His people.

But, like the Israelite people, we who make a covenant with another in marriage, fail to live up to our end of the agreement. And that sometimes means we are wandering through the desert, tired, frustrated, disappointed and there is no Promise Land in sight.

Like God’s chosen people, who were probably heard muttering under their breath, “well God, where is the land flowing with milk and honey?” we wives and husbands can dwell on the (yet) unfulfilled promises of our wedding day. Promises get broken, expectations do not get met, dreams fade, and the wandering in No Man’s Land is endless. It can begin to feel that marriage is more like a life sentence.

But, it is a covenant, and God is not dismayed by the unfaithfulness, broken promises and apathy from His people. In Jeremiah (31:31-34) God provides yet another opportunity to meet at the alter:

“The days are coming,” declares the Lord,
“when I will make a new covenant with the people of Israel and with the people of Judah.
It will not be like the covenant I made with their ancestors
when I took them by the hand to lead them out of Egypt,
because they broke my covenant, though I was a husband to them,” declares the Lord.
“This is the covenant I will make with the people of Israel after that time,” declares the Lord.
“I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts.
I will be their God, and they will be my people.
No longer will they teach their neighbor, or say to one another, ‘Know the Lord,’
because they will all know me,
from the least of them to the greatest,” declares the Lord.
“For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more.”

Let me re-write that as a wife (who has lost the rose-colored glasses from the alter):

Soon, we will simply need to start over,
you and I.
We cannot still make the vows we made back in the stone ages,
before wrinkles and cellulite
before broken promises, and disappointments,
even though we both made promises many years ago.
We need a fresh promise, a brand new covenant.
God would agree with that, and He will be faithful,
and others will see Him through this covenant He has for us
 not just because He has been faithful in the past,
but because of what He will do in the days to come.
We, you and I,
we’ve got baggage.
But, a new start, a new covenant,
That could give us the chance to forgive each others broken promises,
and remember each others sins no more.

Happy Anniversary,
From everlasting to everlasting,

Your Bride

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