Faith - Seriously?

Faith – Seriously???

            I’ve actually heard this question quite a bit through my life:

Faith – Seriously? You believe in God? Come on! It’s all just fairy tales…!

(at least that’s a little summary of the ‘gist’ of some of the comments I’ve fielded…)

But to answer that question, I don’t have to even hesitate. The answer is a resounding YES! YES, I have faith – seriously! In fact, I have serious faith! I DO believe in God, and let me tell you when you feel His presence personally, you know it ain’t no fairy tale!

It’s kind of interesting to think back and to ponder why it is that I feel the way I do. My earliest recollections of going to church are sort of funny. I must have been 5 or 6 when the old church my family attended, began a remodeling project. I remember being scared to death of the wooden planks and holes we were supposed to walk over. And then, as a kid, I can remember being really upset when Christmas Eve day was on a Sunday, and not only did we “hafta” go to church in the morning, but we ‘hadta’ go at night too! Geez! Are ya kidding me???

But as I grew, my own life also became integrated into the life of the church. I no longer found it dull at all. I made friends, attended Sunday School during the fall and winter, Vacation Bible School during the summer. “Lutheran Girl Pioneers” was to us as Girl Scouts were to others – we went on field trips, campouts, learned knot tying and babysitting skills.  

Even when I was a kid, God seemed very real to me, and somehow all of the Bible stories made perfect sense to me (no fairy leanings whatsoever). If my classmates and I had questions, our teachers seemed ready to answer and discuss. To my way of thinking, of course Joseph’s father gave him a coat of many colors and (out of jealousy) his brothers threw him in a pit and he was rescued and became a ruler in Egypt! Of course Moses (by raising a stick) parted the Red Sea with God’s guiding, and saved the Children of Israel from the Pharaoh. Of course they threw Daniel into a den of lions and he came out unscathed. Of course a baby was born to a virgin and that child grew up to be the greatest teacher, healer and prophet the world would ever know – and YES, he died for our sins - and rose again – which we will too if we believe it. Of course that all happened (and will continue to happen)!

As I moved into Confirmation instruction (which I share about in my Lenten Devotional Blog Entry) all of the Bible’s teachings took on deeper meaning. More was expected from us in our learning, and consequently, my faith deepened. I didn’t fight any of it. For some reason I connected with it. Sure, I asked a thousand questions, but instead of that being a deterrent, I sought, believed the answers, and really connected.

And as I grew up, church friendships deepened as well. Some of the best friends I ever had were connected to that little church. We were just kids – not perfect by any means – but being part of that youth group, preparing and serving (did I mention the clean-up?) the Easter breakfasts, singing in the choir, Christmas caroling, bowling, sledding, the camping experiences – every bit of it served to somehow deepen my faith in God.

When I met and became engaged to my husband, Todd, I needed to be sure that he’d be on board with a Christian lifestyle – it was a deal breaker. I could never have imagined my life without God in it. He’d been raised Catholic, but hadn’t been attending anything because he worked a lot of Sundays. But he assured me that he’d do whatever made me happy J (He still does, by the way…)

As our adult life took hold, and life wasn’t just “which restaurant should we go to tonight?” all of those early church experiences served to create my roots – a place to travel back to in my mind. When my son was born missing part of his left arm, and my pastor suggested that God may have a “plan for a greater good,” I could reflect back on all of those early Biblical examples and know that surely if God worked in people’s lives 10,000 years ago, He certainly continues to work in them now. Believe me when I say that I took my pastor’s thought and clung to it.

I feel I have a personal relationship with my almighty Creator. He knew me before I was born. We chat! I praise Him, of course (because He’s AWEsome), but I also question Him – all the time – and then I listen and watch for His answers in my life. And through the years I have experienced such direct answers to some of my prayers that it literally gives me chills. They come from crazy places sometimes too: An unexpected phone call that provides the exact answer I was seeking; a song comes on the radio that speaks to the exact issue that’s on my mind; a friend gives a gift that fits a situation perfectly; right person, right place right time – I could go on and on.

Today is Good Friday, Sunday is Easter. Suffice to say I 100% believe everything about it. I’ve lived through what I’ve lived through, I’ve seen and heard what I’ve seen and heard. No one can take away the outcomes (and ongoing yet-to-be-seen outcomes) I’ve experienced. I give the credit where credit is due!

So… YES faith, YES seriously… NO fairy tales, NO coincidences…

Sure, I was raised to go to church. I was raised to love God. Some people don’t have that experience - everyone’s at a different place in life. But that’s kind of great because we can all share our combined experiences and learn from each other. But my hope is that for those who negatively question, well, could you at least think about it…?  

 …because then He says, “…be still and know that I am God…”

Have a Blessed Easter!

 

A Special Space...

            For quite some time, Todd and I have considered creating an office area in our home. Now that I’m doing a lot of writing, an office seems to make good sense - a place for me to spread out my paperwork, a place for file cabinets and shelving units – basically a writer’s dream come true! (but with a door that can shut out the messiness of the reality of the writer’s dream – you know - when people come over.)

It’s not that we don’t have ample space. Our daughter, Megan, has been married and vacated from her bedroom for more than three years already.  It’s just that at first it seemed wrong, you know? …like somehow by keeping the area bare and empty, we were acknowledging that she lives 1,000 miles away and, most of all, that we miss her… sort of a shrine, but with no pictures or awards or memorabilia – just empty space. (I know, worst shrine ever! Right?)

Knowing it would be right and even healthy to “move forward” and begin using Megan’s once-bedroom once again, Todd and I started to progress very slowly. About a year ago (See? No need to hurry here…) Todd began the project by painting her walls. The deep blue and bright yellow colors that she’d chosen for herself at age 15 only required three heavy, thick coats of our own preferred color choice: pale grey. (As a side note here I must mention that back in 2011, when Megan & Joe bought their own home, they were also confronted with two bedrooms that badly needed painting – one bright pink, the other bright blue. Right there and then she apologized to her dad for ever having chosen the blue and the yellow. Live and learn – what else can we do? (besides always choosing paint in pale colors, that is…)

Finally, just a couple of weeks ago, Todd and I moved our desk and office materials into her old room. It was kind of fun – boxing up supplies, cleaning and dusting, recreating a space that is now a true joy to occupy. It amazed me how much “stuff” had accumulated in the house because of my new hobby/profession. Aren’t certain hobby/professions messy? I literally had stacks of papers from all of my writing classes and projects strewn all around.

Since the move, I’ve gradually been sorting through everything and getting organized. I’m purging old files and creating new folders. Drawer space is opening up and boxes are disappearing from the floor. It’s a good feeling. I’m finding old writing projects that, possibly with a bit of tweaking, still hold merit. I can’t wait to get started.

But you know what the neatest thing about all of this is – something I never could have predicted? I can now sit at my desk, in the room where my daughter grew up, look out of her window, and think about her. It makes me wonder. How many discussions do you suppose we had in this room? Sure, we argued some - who doesn’t? But we also had a million heart-to-heart talks – plenty of tears, but more laughs than I could ever count. In fact I’m getting teary (but laughing too) as I’m writing this.

I now believe that keeping her old room vacant would have proved to be a big mistake. By taking the slow-but-steady steps to move forward, by providing this useable space for me to continue to create, I actually feel closer to Megan than I ever would have if this room remained an empty shriney shell.

Last summer, as I worked through the process of self-publishing my first book, “Five Fingers, Ten Toes…” Megan sent me a lovely birthday gift. It’s a plaque engraved with my author name, the book’s title, and one of the Bible verses from the writing. The note said, “For your new office.”

And now, the plaque is finally in its designated home.   

A Lenten Devotion on Forgiveness

The Institution of the Lord’s Supper

1 Corinthians 11: 23-26  For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. (NRSV)

            “Why back in my day, we had to wait till we were conFIRMED to take communion…!” It’s true. When I was a young teenage Lutheran, my church friends and I attended (I think very) intense classes to learn all about the Lutheran Church’s beliefs and practices. We read books on Martin Luther and studied his Catechism. Memorization was KEY! We recited Bible verses, hymns, whatever our Pastor deemed important. Two nights a week and sometimes Saturday mornings (if our learning was lagging) our class sat together huddled in the church basement. Confirmation Day felt like a re-birth, a new beginning. After a stressful Examination of our class’s vast knowledge (at the 8:00 service) we could finally say we were “Confirmed,” and begin taking communion during the 10:30. I’d made it! Standing there, and finally kneeling there, red carnation pinned to my white flowing robe, the ensemble accented by my brand new platform shoes (it was 1975 after all) I felt I’d made it. At age 13, I’d never felt closer to God.

            But life has a way of moving in on us, doesn’t it? Teen years, dating, peer pressure, heading off to college (or for me, working that first ‘real’ job) - we’re all faced with challenges and issues that were only eluded to back in that church basement’s classes. I found out that people can act in crazy ways sometimes - and (if I’m being honest) so can I. We overdo some things, we under do others, and before we know it we’re married (or wishing we were), we’re parents (or wishing we were(n’t), we’re workaholics, alcoholics – well, we find there are addictions of every variety. Our lives swing out of balance and we grasp to gain back control (whatever THAT means). And as we’re grasping, many of life’s dearest treasures get in our way.

            Back in 1975, when our Pastor described the Lord’s Supper and the ‘forgiveness’ Christ offers us through his body and blood, I thought about it in much smaller terms. When a boy called me a name as I walked to the bus stop, I should forgive that act before I took communion. OK, I felt I could do that. But what about now that life’s issues loom larger? Can I forgive people now? What about the deep hurts that are caused by our families – our parents, spouses, children, brothers and sisters? What about our work acquaintances – our superiors, peers, and those who answer to us? What about our friendships? Do we forgive people when they hurt us, or is it easier or better to throw out our relationships at the first signs of trouble? Or sometimes, do we hang on too tightly to things we shouldn’t? Life can get pretty messy. We don’t always have our own answers.

But God knows all of that. He created each of us to be who he wants us to be. He knows our ins and our outs, our strengths and our flaws, our gifts and talents (as well as our foibles and shame). He also created a way through all of it by sending His son, Jesus, into this dark earthly world to take care of everything. Have you ever considered, really stopped to think, what it is that happens on Easter? God sent his Son to DIE for our sins. He hung on a cross for me - Kate! Insert your own name here too – it’s very powerful to think of this in personal terms! When you consider what He’s done and provided for us, it’s truly a miracle – a gift of pure love.

And so, through the earthly elements of the bread and wine, through Christ’s body and his blood, he provides to each of us forgiveness. All of the bad things we’ve done, left undone, said, not said – He forgives us. It’s free for us to take in and believe. He did all the work. Each time we eat and drink at His table, we are to remember that fact – and remember him. We should then go out and live as lights to this world, turn from our sins and bad behaviors, confident that we are forgiven, and ready to forgive others.

During Confirmation instruction all those years ago, our pastor taught us the petitions to the Lord’s Prayer, “…and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us…” Pastor warned us that sentence would be tricky… and boy, was he right.

But through communion, God forgives us, we forgive others, and hopefully, we even learn to someday, forgive ourselves…

Choices, choices...

After dinner last night, we were just hanging out, watching a little Friday night programming, when I saw a television commercial that posed an excellent question - a question that Todd and I have been struggling with here at our house for probably the better part of a year. The mind-plaguing question was simply this: DiGiorno, or Delivery?

Hmmmm, let’s see here – on the one hand, frozen pizza from a box… on the other hand, delivery?  Excellent question. Let’s analyze the possibilities for a moment…

This silly question hit home harder than you’d think because here’s the truth… For quite some time now, Todd and I have been desperately attempting to dub Sunday night as our Pizza Night. At the end of the weekend, all we want to do is make a simple salad, throw a pizza in our oven, and tune in to some Sunday night TV.

We’ve run the gamut of other Sunday night scenarios – making a big dinner (turkey, chicken, ribs) but then that sort of meal produces mega-amounts of dishes  - who wants all that work on a Sunday night? We tried Taco Bell & Golden Chicken runs – an alternative I do enjoy because it takes no kitchen effort on my part, whatsoever – but SOMEONE (we did take turns) had to leave the house (winter is challenging) and go get the food, usually making that person late for the kick-off of whatever show we wanted to watch. No fun… (sigh)

So ultimately, we thought we came up with a perfect solution – making something simple (like pizza) at home. But it’s hard – harder than you’d think! Every single week, while I’m stocking up on groceries in preparation for the weekend, I wheel my grocery cart into the freezer aisle, and stand in front of the frozen pizzas section. I’m almost beginning to dread it. You try finding a frozen pizza that measures up to the picture it bears and brags about on its box cover.

After some serious investigation of trial and error, against all odds, we finally found one brand that we loved. The crust was “just right,” the sauce wasn’t super spicy, the sausage seemed believable/authentic (unlike some brands’ artificial-seeming meat). But as soon as we became hooked, the grocery store discontinued it. I got up the guts to ask them, “Why?” but the answer was simple… “We just don’t sell enough to justify stocking them.” Really? What brand exactly are people finding so worthy? Frustrating...

And so last night, when posed with the commercial’s question: DiGiorno or Delivery? Well, it prompted me to write this blog! I’m still weighing the possibilities. I’m not gonna lie - delivery is a pretty tempting alternative. If only a delivered pizza didn’t taste like a box, if only it was super hot, if only the toppings came as accurately as we ordered them… (if only, if only…) And if only a frozen pizza wasn’t so temperamental, where two minutes one way or another wasn’t a deal breaker, the sausage was real and lived up to its cover photo… (if only, if only…)  

So I’ll tell you what I did this week - I actually BOUGHT a DiGiorno. I guess that we’ll give it a try. We’ll take a leap of pizza faith and step out. Time will tell. If it doesn’t live up to the frozen hype, next week there’s always Domino’s…

Side note: This is just meant to be silly. I’m truly grateful for all food and even pizza choices…

Ebb'ing and Flowing

Ebb’ing and Flowing – a phrase we use from time to time. “Life ebbs and flows,” I say. “Marriage ebbs and flows,” I advise.

But what in the world does that MEAN? Have you ever stopped to really think about that phrase? I did today. I really did. I stopped and thought and even looked up the word, “Ebb” in the Dictionary. “Flow” I get. “Flow” I witness through day-to-day occurrences. But “Ebb?” Well… the news isn’t quite as positive (at least at first glance). Here are my findings:

According to Oxford American Desk Dictionary, the word “Flow” means: “Moves smoothly or steadily, movement in a stream, hang easily or gracefully (like hair or clothing)…”  Things like that.

According to the same source, the word “Ebb” means: “Movement of the tide out to sea, recede, decline, a turn in circumstance…”  Things like that.

Now, of the two, I’m all about the flow. I could have a nice, flowing feel to my life all day, week, or month long. I like it when life just glides along like water in a nice, peaceful, easy river. The sun is shining, creating a sparkle on my water. No hurry, no worry because I’m inside the boundaries.  Thinking about the fact that the Ebb needs to horn in on my peaceful water-y scenario is disturbing. I don’t really want anything in my life to ‘recede’ or ‘decline,’ much less to be ‘pulled back.’  No “Ebb-age,” thanks, I’m going with the flow.

But then I stopped to think again. (I know - lots of stopping, lots of thinking. Good thing I wasn’t driving at the time.) If life never ‘ebb-ed,’ if it never pulled back or receded, how would anything ever change – not only for the worse, but also for the better? If everything just went along perfectly all the time, how would we ever grow?  (Oooo, cringe…  “G-R-O-W…” There’s that four-letter word for improvement, for change…)

And let’s not forget that even when water is flowing in a calm stream, it doesn’t always remain a peaceful, grand event. Too much rain can send the river flowing out and all around, creating havoc in our once-quiet flowing stream. And likewise, when the ocean recedes, we can enjoy the Ebb by walking barefoot in the extra sand for a while. Reversing either scenario does have its lessons.

So, let’s try this again… “Life ebbs and flows. Marriage ebbs and flows…”  Yup. Everything does. And sometimes it’s wonderful and sometimes it’s awful.

But somehow, I believe, it’s exactly what was intended.