ENJOY

Dedicated to my bro & sis, Larry and Linda

         Life is ever changing! Just when you think you have a handle on IT, a direction set, and you have applied action to implement and see your plan develop, suddenly God changes the plan by introducing something, someone, or some circumstance that gives pause for evaluation. Confirmations or doubts about the plan result in prayer, conversation and many more reasons to trust God for the outcome of His overall plan…key word, “His.”

         Truth is there are no “sure-fire guarantees” in any direction except that God knows the eventual destination since He is THE Navigator. You can be certain that whatever circumstance alters your plan and detours your course, the occasion has not happened coincidentally. 

         Psalm 139:17 says, “How precious and weighty also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How vast is the sum of them!"

         When I read scriptures like this, it surprises yet comforts me to know God is thinking about me. Most of us need more than a gentle reminder, more than a thump on the head that He IS God after all and our “life changes” give Him good pleasure to work His character and attitudes….the fruit of His Spirit in us. 

         “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.” Galatians 5:22-23

         The love, peace, gladness, mercy, perseverance, benevolence, humility and self-restraint that His Spirit accomplishes in us are, indeed, WORK. Whenever HE has written these lines in the poems of our lives, NO ONE can dispute the transformation! We are changed and people all around can see Jesus in us.

         “We are God’s handiwork, His “poema” workmanship, recreated in Christ Jesus that we may do those good works that God predestined for us that we should WALK in them.” Ephesians 2:10

         Our lives are made new when we choose to enter the Lifegate named “Christ” to live empowered by His Spirit, to walk humbly with our God. HE orders our steps as we take the paths that He has prearranged ahead of time.

         “Your eyes saw my unformed substance, and in Your book of all the days (of my life) were written before they ever took shape, when as yet there was none of them.” Psalm 139:16

         He knew. 

         He knows the plan and it's a good plan.

         He helps us apply action to implement plans.

         He knows all the desires of our heart, the journey, the destination and final outcome of our days. It only makes sense to relax, rest in Him, and just maybe, enjoy life in the Kingdom here and now!

(c)Copyright 2013-2016

WHAT'S IN A NAME?

         If any of you have ever been the victim of an identity theft, you know what a challenge it is to reclaim and restore what has been compromised. 

         I should know because it’s happened to me twice in 20 years. After all, those who have good standing make the best fraud targets…right? As with any crime, one becomes guarded, often paranoid at guarding personal information. I do what I can to preserve and protect my name and good credit. 

         In my case, the first fraudulent activity occurred after purchasing a vehicle from the car dealership where I worked. Who knows how my personal information was stolen. It could have been a disgruntled title clerk or a bank employee who processed my loan package, but someone had access to my accurate driver’s license information and credit history to create a counterfeit identification. She has used it through the years for department store purchases and even established telephone and utility services in urban areas where I have never lived.

         Each time, I have been the one to file police reports, make countless phone calls to companies, credit collection agencies, sign my name in front of notaries and write the appropriate fraud alert statements for the various credit bureau reporting agencies. These letters have to be written after every address or name change to prove who I am. It’s a real pain in the behind to undo the damage when an invisible enemy has infiltrated your life without your knowing it.

         So, what’s in a name? Think about the names you have been given during your lifetime that may have defined who you are. I choose not to repeat or print in this forum some of the “scarlet letter” names that have somewhat defined my identity in life. And it doesn’t really matter if you call me Kathe, Kate, Kath-a-reeeen (emphasis on the E’s,) Katrina, Mom or Sis, Grams or GaGa, I am still me.

         I remember when one of my grandsons was born. I asked how my kids chose his name only to hear that it was chosen from the Top 10 most unpopular baby names. His was number 7 but when I researched the meaning of his name, I was so blessed to read, “Gift from God.” He is.

         I did some research about my name and discovered that the root word, “katharos” means pure. My parents named me, “Pure.” This Greek word is the same root word used for “catheter.” Now, ask yourself, what does a catheter do?” Its purpose is to remove toxins, poisons, impurities from the body when kidney and bladder functions are impaired. 

         Jesus said in His Sermon on the Mount in Matt 5:8, “Blessed are the (katharos) pure in heart, for they shall see God.” Only a repentant heart can truly worship a holy God, and in our praise and worship, we are refreshed, renewed and made whole.

         I must always remember that times of refreshing can only come after times of repentance. Acts 3:19 AMP confirms this, “So repent (change your mind and purpose); turn around and return [to God] so that your sins may be erased, (blotted out, wiped clean), that times of refreshing (of recovering from the effects of heat, of reviving with fresh air) may come from the presence of the Lord.” Repentance is a spiritual "catheter!"

         I can attest that nothing compares to the rest and contentment I enjoy in communion with the Lord, and that kind of joy and intimacy just isn’t possible when sin is masquerading in my soul. I realized that I had abandoned purity in my life, the very identity my human parents gave me when they named me, “Pure”. 

         It was more than being a strong, self-willed child, more than a teenage rebellion, and more than a mid-life crisis. It was sin. At the very core of my spiritual adultery lurked a spirit of dissatisfaction which led me to search for significance and fulfillment in relationships. I pursued a counterfeit contentment by following after the world’s idea of personal happiness when all along, God’s desire for me was holiness.

         Oh, how I TRIED in vain to be holy and to do holy deeds. My biggest failure was failing to successfully live a deeply satisfying life in Christ. It is His Holiness in me that purifies my life and His Holy Spirit that empowers me daily to lay down all the past regrets, shame and guilt for believing an invisible enemy. 

         And you can be sure if you are a follower of Christ and obedient to the call of God in your life, you will be assaulted by the invisible enemy. Here is the biggest lesson I’ve learned about this. Satan is the ultimate identity thief. It is his method of operation to steal, kill and destroy. This is why it is so important to know who you are in Christ. Once we truly know WHO we are, WHOSE we are, this Truth cannot be stolen away, unless of course, you are deceived to believe a lie.

         Any lie will do, but the lie will always create some form of doubt, fear and unbelief about God, Who He says He is or whether He will do what He promises. The invisible enemy has been cleverly counterfeiting “pretty trees and appealing fruit” since the Garden of Eden. I remind myself often that what Jesus accomplished in the Garden of Gethsemane is far greater than what Adam and Eve did in Eden.

         Today, this is what I know. I am in Christ and His Spirit is fully alive in me. I am His and He is my Maker, Bridegroom, Husband, and my King, my Everything. What sweet names do I hear when Jesus initiates His call to drink from the well of Living Water? …my beloved, beauty, bride, daughter, companion, heiress, vessel, messenger, vineyard, and overcomer.

         I am a pure handmaiden standing holy before His throne of Grace, blameless and without a single fault.

         Now, THAT’S a gift from God!

(c) Copyright 2013-2016

KING OF MY HEART

         Have you ever truly embraced the notion that most of life’s lessons are really all about learning to say good-bye? I awoke to this realization one morning when I remembered Mrs. Reid’s second grade classroom…the same classroom where I heard my Mom’s exclamation, “She drew THAT?” Public School Week prompted room decorations to impress all the visitors and apparently my creation of an overly-stretched wiener dog with a big, Rudolph red nose peaked my parent’s curiosity for my “natural artistic bent.”

         Memories of a different time in my favorite teacher’s classroom flooded my thoughts as I remembered celebrating Valentine’s Day. Heart shapes were stapled to every bulletin board in the school! Colored chalk hearts were drawn on black boards and cut-out paper hearts rained down from every light fixture in our classroom. I always wondered who helped Mrs. Reid hang those pumpkin shapes, snowflakes and now, the hearts, since she was a little on the portly side. I loved reaching around her middle to give and get my hugs. It’s such a shame that school children in today’s times cannot experience the warmth of a teacher’s loving embrace.

         I remembered mostly the heart shaped cookies. Mrs. Reid had distributed two cookies to each student’s desk top while we were all at recess. The pink and red sugared icing glared back from atop the brown paper towels she had used for napkins. So vivid are my memories of the 32 desks in her classroom….

         My Daddy had a new job in the Rio Grande Valley and our family was moving from Munday. Mrs. Reid and Mom had predetermined that the party would distract me from a tearful goodbye. Mom had come to pick me up and as she waited by the door in the back of the room, Mrs. Reid stood by me as I passed each student’s desk, row by row, friend by friend, to say “good-bye.” The Allen twins, Diana and Donna, Susan, Lana, Joe and Richard are a few I still remember. I don't remember getting to eat my heart cookies, but it was one of my first lessons in letting go and leaving Mrs. Reid left a big hole in my heart.

         Upon arriving in our new hometown, Mom took me to my first day at Lincoln-Lee elementary school. Mrs. Davis was my new teacher and she assigned the front row seat just to the right of her desk. It made me an easy target for the chalk and board erasers she threw when she was frustrated that she could not convert this “lefty.” She was no “Mrs. Reid.”

         Third grade brought another portly widow lady named Mrs. McDonald. She wore an apron every day and I loved reaching around her middle, too. I didn’t mind getting into trouble for being a “chatty Kathe” so that I could stay in from recess to have personal time with her. 

         I’ve said good-bye to many teachers through the years who loved me and encouraged me along the way…. Mrs. Brown, Spurgeon, Miss Graham, Mancias, Mr. Ayers, Trolinger, Snow and Coach Steele, and Mr. Dunham and Mr. Kochert, the art teacher and Mrs. Ward and Cherry from home economics. Though he was never my teacher, Coach Joe Green meant a lot to our family especially when my sister, Jann died. He took my brother, Chuck under his wing and channeled his loss to the football field. It was a tough time but Coach Green and a local pastor adopted a 15 year old boy who needed to learn to say hello to life again. 

         My college years brought more life teachers who filled in some gaps for learning to say good-bye…Dr. Pratt, Miss Shaver, Dr. Calabrese, Miss Stuckenbruck, Mr. Washmon and Mr. Walton.

         Nameless are two professors who made huge impacts on my life. One remains nameless because I have tried hard to forget the experience of his art lecture when he held up my drawing for everyone to see. Apparently, it was an example of what he did NOT want. I can still see the paper floating to and fro towards the floor where he promptly placed one shoe and mashed my ego along with the drawing. I kept trying to please that man…

         The other nameless professor taught freshman English 101. This composition class was the kind that students love to hate…a perpetual “pop test.” We sat at our desks with pen and paper in hand as she gave us the “prompt” to write about for the next 50 minutes. We turned in the papers and got a grade. One day we returned to our desks and our professor was handing back our most recent themes. I noticed everyone received theirs with the infamous red corrections, but she held mine for last and began reading aloud to the classroom. She finished and said, “Now, THIS is an example of the kind of writing I’m looking for.” I gladly worked even harder to please her.

         There have been employers along the way that have been special and hard to say good-bye to. Artelle and Ramah Lee at the old Deb-n-Heir boutique in Raymondville gave me my first real job selling fine clothing and fashion accessories. My favorite item to sell was Hane’s hosiery (remember those?) because I wore them and I could describe their feel, looks, and performance. Genevieve Vondrachek in North Dakota was my first employer in the salon industry. She owned three salons and because of my Texas licensing restrictions, she sent me to Minneapolis and introduced me to the world of cosmetics as a beauty advisor for Merle Norman Cosmetics. I will never forget that midnight train passage across Minnesota and seeing my own version of “Dr. Zhivago” outside my window. And, who could forget having tea with Mary Kay Ash, founder of Mary Kay Cosmetics?

         I worked for Mr. Frank Joseph, whose name our Texas Cosmetology Commission Building bears. What a privilege to work for him in Harlingen and with Melanie, who gave me a wonderful opportunity to own my salon at a time in my life when I needed solid relationships most. It was a time when I wanted less responsibility, and I learned a new definition of the word. I “responded with the ability I had.” God took my hand and led me each step of the way. His Spirit created our work environment and all our relationships, staff and clients, are founded on Christian principles.

         Each time I moved, I said good-bye to pastors and their families. I think they know, understand and embrace the notion of saying good-bye better than anyone. People come and go in congregations either from geographical moves, misunderstandings and/or death. And pastors occasionally say good-bye to their church body when God calls for a move. I was 12 years old when Bro. Gene said, “Adios, amigos…” and resigned from our little church in Lyford to go to Victoria. The Lord brought him back to the valley and knit our hearts together again in Rio Hondo. I’m still proud to call him my pastor and Papa. Pastors Rick and Pete, Bro. Robert, Pastors Jack and Dave, Bill and Dr. Bob have all imparted wise words in due season for my life. I’m grateful to each of you.

         I’ve saved the hardest for last and it brings me back around to Valentine’s Day and saying good-bye to friends. Death is the greatest sting and as I have said good-bye to Jann, Chuck, Sandra, Dad and Mom, grandparents, aunts and uncles, my heart has been so lonely I thought I, too, would die. My children grew up and now have families of their own to teach the lessons of “good-bye and hello.” Through this blog-writing process, I am finding the courage to see the holes in my heart that relationship losses have created. I see how I have sought approval and validation from my authority figures and made some bad decisions during vulnerable times. I have clung to possessions for sentimental reasons thinking somehow, I was keeping the people who gave them to me alive in my deadened heart. I’ve not wanted to look at what was clearly evident for everyone to see. What a burden it has been to carry all these years....

         ...But God deposited into my broken heart His Power to live life, not in my human strength, but in His Strength. 2 Corinthians 4:7 AMP says, “However, we possess this precious treasure [the divine Light of the Gospel] in frail, human earthen vessels that the grandeur and exceeding greatness of the power may be shown to be from God and not from ourselves.”

         “His power perfects my weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9) and right now, my heart is sooo full to know I am loved in this way. Thank you, Dr. Bob and Nancy for being teachers who allow me the freedom to fail, to stay or to leave, and to come back. I may not be someone’s Valentine sweetheart, but I whole-heartedly embrace the King of my heart Who will NEVER say, “Good-bye” but rather will someday say, "Hello, Kathe-Lynne, My beloved, welcome home..."

       

 (c) Copyright 2013-2016

THE VALUE OF SEED

         Once upon a time, a farmer was offered a choice piece of fertile ground.  The former owner had worked hard for many years to stock the barn with various seeds to produce more than ample harvests.  It was good soil and the purchase included everything for a successful farming venture….a barn full of seed, a partially dug well and general farm implements. 

         The new farmer borrowed money from the local banker for the purchase of the soil, the well, the barn full of seeds and the farmer pitched a tent.  Then the new owner began tapping the well for a deeper water table to sustain the crops and set about planting for the coming season.

         Along came a younger farmer who recognized the potential bounty and offered to share the tending of the fields, but the inexperienced share-cropper had no seed to plant.

         So, the new owner took half of the purchased seed from the barn and gave it freely to the younger farmer for the ground they shared.  Month by month, year by year, the younger farmer leased the land, tilled the soil and enjoyed the harvest from the seeds.

         As the young farmer's family grew, the older farmer came along side to “side-dress” the crops with fertilizer when necessary and continued to farm the land in the younger one’s absence. 

         The owner paid off the loans and the banker was pleased.  Folks from miles around knew the farm’s reputation from the produce of their harvests.  Other share- croppers came along to farm the available soil and they too, prospered.

         One day, after many years, the owner grew much older and weary of the responsibility of the farm.  The older farmer saw that the younger farmer had matured and was ready to master the farm alone.  An offer was made to sell the farm for merely half the cost of the first seed that had produced such a harvest every year, but the younger farmer was fearful and blind to the value of the farm and the investment of the initial seed that had been shared so long ago.

         The gentle older farmer spent time alone and waited to hear what the young share-cropper had decided.  It was a testing time of prayer and fasting, a time to remain humble, unselfish and mildly patient while waiting for the young farmer to commit to the purchase of the tents, barns of seeds, and now, the deeply dug well.  The other share- croppers were eager and strived to keep the harmony and oneness that bound them all together in peace.  They made allowances in their share of the crops because they all loved one another.

         Time passed and morning brought the answers.  The farmers, old and young, eventually came to understand, accept and embrace their temporary stewardship roles over the fertile soil and all the share-croppers were entrusted to dispense more seed and water from the well to benefit many generations to come…

(c) Copyright 2013-2016

BALANCE

      This post is dedicated to Dr. Bob & Nancy. I am forever grateful for the BALANCE you model for me... Thank you for always being approachable, available and lovable. KB

     I can see why older folks have a hard time with changes in their routines. Of course, I am referring to the “older folks” I hear about or see who are challenged by varying degrees of dementia related to Alzheimer’s and/or Parkinson’s disease. Any change seems disruptive to their sense of security. 

     That’s one thing about being in a service industry that builds a history with people. We are privy to observe a client’s physical body progress from walking independently to arriving at our door with care givers who chauffeur and tenderly assist them with their walkers, and eventually, their wheelchairs. Often without anyone noticing, our sweet friends migrate from spontaneity into routine before their time… and we dare to call it “prime!”

     One morning last week, I had a small dose of this reality as I got up and began my daily routine. I left the bed and bathroom, turned the grow light on over my violets, smiled and said, “Good morning, how are you?” to my kitty, popped open her can of cat food, put on the coffee, took my morning meds. I settled on the couch for my study and prayer time followed by making my bed, showering and dressing for the day. Hi-ho, hi-ho, off to work I went.

     Just the day before, I had returned from an impromptu weekend visit to my daughter’s house. As I unpacked from my trip, I remembered that as great as it was to see them and enjoy my grandson’s laughter, antics, and that special way he said, “Come on, GaGa,” it was equally good to be home and back in my routine again. 

     I especially enjoyed our dinner time together, all of us around the same table, sharing homemade chicken and dumplings that she had made. Well, all of us except my grandson who took one look and said, “EEE-uoooooooh, grroooooooooooss!” How does an almost 3 year old know “gross?” 

     We all made fond memories as we chatted over our meal. Our conversation jumped from casual topics to questions about my childhood feelings regarding siblings. My daughter and son-in-law wanted to know, “What had my parents done in their parenting methods that I wished they had done differently?” The fact that they even asked these questions of their family and friends, or of me, delighted my heart. (One learns a lot when you ask questions, but that is the subject of a later post.)

     I thought for awhile as we discussed sibling issues and birth order since I was the typical middle child. In response to their parenting question, I shared a memory that had taught me, hopefully, the value of parents who are “approachable,” parents who can be trusted with teenage questions, fears, dreams and ideas about life as only a teen girl might wonder and imagine… parents who are not afraid to foster a dialogue about things that might prove uncomfortable to talk about….parents who are not critical of smart kids who think outside their family’s box…parents who are willing to abandon their schedules, clocks, calendars and “to do” lists and be available to simply listen and “be in the moment.” I am still learning the value of this lesson since I seem to live my life by those same schedules, clocks and appointment calendars!

     A parent’s response to “when I grow up, I think I want to be….” can forever impact a kid. I had already won a scholarship to a piano conservatory and was performing and winning talent shows in my local community when I made my declaration. Afternoons after school were filled with homework, but only after an allotted time at the piano. I was practicing as my mother stood at the kitchen stove stirring a pot and preparing for dinner time. I noted from my peripheral view that she never took her eyes from the stove as she spoke “the words.” Yes, it was a time when women’s career choices were limited to becoming teachers, nurses or secretaries, and that day, I made a life decision based upon a mother’s insecurities. Not that there’s anything wrong with education, medicine or administration, but that day, I abandoned my natural, creative musical bent. I also learned the perils of spontaneously sharing my heart.

     Now, forty plus years later, I examine the same hands that belonged to the young lady who dared to dream of performing on a concert stage, and though I see the aging hands of a grandmother, I can still finger the scales of “do-re-mi,” and play “chop sticks” and “heart and soul” with gusto. I may forget some little ditty I just heard on the radio, but Für Elise and Moonlight Sonata will always remain in my memory’s repertoire! 

     Nowadays, my hands tickle the hearts and souls of people whom the Lord chooses. My response to this calling is listening for His Tuning Fork or perhaps the Metronome that helps me hear someone’s heart song. Most people are approachable…only a few are not. I admit there are days when I am unapproachable and “occupied at the kitchen stove.” But a smile and a question work just as well for people as it does for felines. “Good morning! How are you today?” is a simple gesture of kindness, an overture to influence and engage a person’s world. A soul’s answers are far from a routine if I have ears to hear! 

     I personally am very glad that God Almighty is approachable. I find it comforting to know I can approach Him at any time, for any reason, with any idea, dream, doubt, fear, frustration, disappointment or question I have about life. He wants and invites this communion and I never have to wonder about what He might have done differently in the circumstances of my life. Good is coming from all of it. He is, after all, Abba Father, a “Daddy” whose parenting style from beginning to end is simply LOVE spelled, T-I-M-E…time spent caring for us and pursuing us even when we are unapproachable, unavailable and unlovable.

     Now you may be asking, “What does this have to do with routine and spontaneity?” Opposites do attract and isn’t it just like God to give me what I really need to help me achieve balance? Like many naturally “stick in the mud” structured and calculated people, I am a routine lover attracted to the natural adventurous attributes in others, perhaps as much as they are attracted to the stability of my quiet life. 

     Relationship collaboration at its best is each person knowing his or her natural bent and finding balance. It is at that crossroads where every relationship negotiates a compromise in the battle of wills between routine and spontaneity. A life lived out of balance can be crazy making, exhausting, boring and silent. It’s a balance found only at the centering place where my vertical relationship with a holy God meets ALL my horizontal relationships with mankind to transform ME. For God to change my timid personality, I must exercise and risk peril again!

     Balance is “staying in the present moment” between living lives in the memories of one’s past and dreams for the future. I am not alone in the safety and comfort I find in my routine. But self imposed isolation is not the same experience for some older folks who just get “stuck” in their present moments and find themselves fed, dressed, and chauffeured around from place to place.

     Next time you see someone living life from their “padded chariot,” take a moment from your busy schedule to approach them. No matter how uncomfortable the exercise is for you, smile and ask, “How are you today?” You may be surprised by their answer, but then again, you learn a lot about a person when you ask questions, and it will definitely make your day far from routine…. They might even sing you their heart song!

(c) Copyright 2013-2016

BABY STEPS

      They predicted, whoever “they” are, that 12-21-2012 would bring the end of the world as we know it. The infamous date came and went, but also brought to mind a distant memory…12-21-1968, the day I married my Prince Charming. 

      It could have been the “end of the world” for a young girl marrying with a child on the way. My baby and the marriage miscarried and I began a lifelong quest pursuing LOVE and motherhood in other ways.

      After that first miscarriage, hormones ran amuck and endometriosis wreaked havoc in all the natural plans for birthing my own children. During a third marriage, a complete hysterectomy at age 26 permanently closed every door, even though doctors were titillating my dreams with artificial insemination as they wheeled me into surgery. Yes, it was shocking to wake up to that barren reality, and once again, I thought my natural world had ended…

      If you’ve read all the previous posts in my blog, first, let me say “thank you” and I pray by now, you’ve sensed the common thread I hope to convey. Whether I am writing from a painful memory or declaring a praiseworthy victory, my purpose is to share an intimate knowledge of God’s very real Abiding Presence in our world today, in your life and mine. Of course, not knowing you, the reader, I can only write about my experiences of His Providence in my life. Almost five years ago, as I sat with my Bible, pen and paper to outline my “goals” for the coming year, I read my morning devotion from the apostle Peter’s letter to us in 2 Peter 1:16.

“For we did not follow cleverly devised tales when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eye witnesses to His Majesty.”

      “They,” the apostles and other followers, didn’t have to make up stories about Jesus because they had seen Him, touched Him, walked and talked with Him. They KNEW Him and His workings in people’s daily lives…they had been eye witnesses.

      During the interim years of goal setting, I continued to take baby steps, but I resisted His call to write because I felt sorely inadequate and insecure. I was much more confident in the visual arts, but recently, I discovered that God’s purpose and desire for the writing does not depend on my clever “word craftsmanship.” He would rather that I merely share with others about His Abiding Presence in my daily life. Someone else might define or describe this as “His Faithful Working.” After all, He is faithful to me and to YOU even though we might not see or perceive it as so. I am an eye witness to His Workmanship in my life. I am still breathing and able to proclaim, “Jesus is Lord!”

      As for 12-21-2012 or some other calamity, and even if the world as we know it ends, He is still Lord of Life. As the Old Testament prophet Jeremiah wrote to us in chapter 31:2-4,

“The people who survived the sword found grace in the wilderness—Israel, when it went to find rest. I have loved you with an everlasting love, I have drawn you with loving kindness. Again, I will rebuild you and you shall be rebuilt…”

      The rebuilding of my life (and yours) is a lifelong process. Along the way, God has fitted together several key relationships to fill critical gaping cracks in my edifice, primarily, my two adopted children who I know without any doubts, God chose for me and me for them. 

      One other miraculous blessing was birthed through another painful marriage, BUT GOD delivered another daughter to my life who will be 43 on her next birthday, the same age of the child I lost all those years ago. And today, we forge ahead as two women completing my chapter of loss and salving her painful recent miscarriage. Together we grieve the loss of a little boy she will never know…until God “fits” another boy into her edifice walls, or perhaps places a future son-in-law who needs mothering in ways that only she can deliver…successfully to term!

      Yes, God builds our lives in these ways…not just some times, most times, but ALL times. Character, integrity, trust, genuine love, and His Abiding Peace are being built in my life that could only have been built THIS WAY. Understanding, accepting, and embracing this truth has been a great challenge. Sorting through the world’s ideas, other’s opinions, my own stubbornness, making sense of it all, finding God’s purpose and searching God’s Word for a deeper meaning is a quest worth embarking upon.     

      As I read about King David’s despair in Psalm 40, I felt I was in good company. Here was “a man after God’s own heart” sharing about his deliverance from miry clay to a secure foundation with new songs of praise in his mouth for God who inclined His ear to hear his cries. I have no way out of the clay pit by myself. (God knows, I’ve tried!) The question is, “Will I trust God or man, my church, my family, my career or government?” The answer is, “How blessed is the man/woman who has made the Lord his/her trust.” Jeremiah again shows us a comparison in 17:5-8 of a shrub in the desert contrasted with a green tree. Faith in mankind reduces me to a mere shrub in my wilderness while faith in God makes me a SURVIVOR …even while taking “baby steps.”

“For he/she will be like a tree planted by the water, that extends its roots by a stream and will NOT fear when the heat comes; But its leaves will be green and it will not be anxious in a year of drought nor cease to be fruitful.”

     And so, I end the year as I began it, with my Bible, paper and pen in hand.  I find myself pondering about the fiscal cliff, drought, farm bills and the price of milk. Gun control legislation, mental health issues, social security, retirement, and most importantly, “Who will be in the Super Bowl?” But as Martin Luther wrote,

“Sola Fide” by Faith alone

“Sola Gratia” by Grace alone

“Sola Scriptura” on His Word alone

“Sola Christus” because of Christ alone

“Sola Deo Gloria” to the glory of God alone

Lord, chisel this on the doorpost of my soul and help me apply myself to LIVE this manifesto!

(c) 2012-2016

APPEARANCES

            

Though applicable to both genders, this post will appeal primarily to women. 

     Not a woman alive awakens in the morning without a check of her body’s profile in the bathroom mirror. We are obsessed with belly bloats, flat bums, fat cheeks, saddle bag thighs, saggy skin, droopy eyes, crow’s feet, turkey necks, flabby arms, thin hair, gray hair, “upper lips” and hairy chins…and that’s just at first glance!

     I recently discovered a rare find…about 10 of my mother’s personal diaries. One can only imagine how special but difficult it is to read these journals. Evidently, she, too, was consumed with her reflection since the first item in the daily entries was a record of her bathroom scale.

     Spa memberships, cellulite creams, body wraps, weight loss and nutrition plans, cosmetics, jewelry, clothing, shoes & purses, accessorized her “fashionable debt” giving her the appearance of prosperity. I say all this, not to dishonor my mother’s memory with this criticism, but to address our culture’s obsession with “image.” I wonder if she ever pondered “why” as she struggled with “losing her looks” and “hanging onto her man.”

     Now, someone might ask, “Aren’t you in an industry that helps people improve their appearance?” Yes, I admit I have made a comfortable living helping people feel good about themselves. I observe a definite change in a client’s countenance as they arrive and depart from my salon. A mirror’s reflection has an effect on both inner and outer realities, which brings the deeper message of my post. 

     “We are easily distracted by the superficial, pretentious details of living life while our inner soul hungers and thirsts to be fed.”

     Before I commit words to paper, I always pray and ask God what message He wants me to share in this forum. And it is always about the MESSAGE…not about me, I hope you understand. I am just willing to be transparent about how the message manifests in my life. That day, as I stared at my own “fluffy” reflection in the bathroom mirror, God was observing my shallow heart. With my human eyes, I can only see my external appearance, but He sees the inner intentions and discerns every motive for everything I do and say. God sees every insensitivity and judgment I make.

     Our small group from church discussed this subject not long ago after our pastor’s “Sermon on the Mount” series. It’s our custom to review the message from the previous Sunday and dig deeper as people share from their personal experiences. “Do not judge lest you be judged…” from Matthew 7:1-6 led to a time of sharing that I won’t soon forget.

     One woman told about an unexpected layover in the Atlanta airport several years ago while traveling with her young children in tow. Flight after flight was delayed and eventually canceled which meant an overnight stay. Frantic, distraught and frustrated conversations with gate agents were for naught against unforeseen circumstances. 

     While standing at the desk, a tattooed young man approached her and though he wasn’t the sort of person she ordinarily would have “connected” with, his words changed her entire outlook about the layover. 

     “Ma’am, it seems you have an opportunity here to make this a real adventure for these kids!” 

     And she did. They booked a hotel, ordered pizza, rented movies, jumped on the beds and probably enjoyed a pillow fight or two. Now, her children are grown and have a few tattoos of their own! So much for judging by appearances… I could write a book about the responses I’ve had to the tattoo on my wrist, even a few refusals to shake my hand!

       “Did you REE-A-ALLY want that on your hand?”

Or my personal favorite, “You don’t seem like the type to get a tattoo…”

     Okay, so what type do I seem like? What concrete details define someone? Is it clothing, expressions, characteristics or behavior that we base these judgments? What exactly does an artist look like anyway? For that matter, what does a pastor, teacher, doctor, banker, attorney, car salesman, secretary, homeless person, or an addict look like? Except for the aid of a mirror, none of us would ever really know what we look like or have any semblance of who we are to the world. 

     Relationally, we are mirrors unto ourselves. I can see the best or worst characteristics in others that I am unable or refuse to see in myself. I preach condemnation for acts against me that I seek mercy for! This is hypocrisy at my soul’s core and I perpetuate the lie when I refuse to be real with myself about myself. 

     God desires His Word to be The Mirror. Because He loves me, it is for Kingdom Goodness and for my benefit that He reveals my spiritual flaws and shows my greater need for His Time, His Wisdom and His Restoration. “Do I just give The Mirror an occasional glance only to step away and forget what I saw? Or fail altogether and truly see what is really there? Am I so caught up with my outward appearance that I ignore the spiritual condition of my sinful heart?”

     Religion is like this to some people. We unknowingly abandon our personal relationship with God and become more focused on the outward appearances of “doing” church with our attendance, giving tithes and teaching Sunday school. While these actions are vital for our growth, the apostle Paul compared them as “clanging cymbals.” I did all these things but with the wrong heart motive. I realized it was more about “being seen to be seen and speaking in the group to show how much I know.”

     God is not interested in my appearances of holiness as much as my willingness to repent and bow before His Holiness. To do this, I must have a devoted heart and a disciplined life to stand before the Mirror of His Word. If someone ripped open the curtain to reveal my inner walls, what would be written there for the world to see?

     These “walls of my heart” are ever before a Holy God to be exposed and examined. Isaiah 49:16 (Amplified) is a picture of Christ’s sacrifice unto death and holds an even more personal meaning for me. Feel free to plug your name in there, too.

     “Behold, I have indelibly imprinted (tattooed a picture of) you, Kate, on the palm of each of My hands; your walls are continually before Me.”

     This scripture has assured me at times when I felt so utterly lost and forgotten. Colossians 1:22 assures me that I can stand before Him blameless and without a single fault. Because of my belief and trust in Christ alone, His Right Standing with Father God is the only mirror I need. 

     Though I am reminded forever of the consequences of a tattoo that serves as a permanent marker of a time in my wayward life, I am finally able to like who I am becoming when I look in the mirror.…

   PASS THE BLUE BELL, PLEASE!!!!

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