Growing Up at the 'Dewdrop Inn"

Growing up, my dad often jokingly referred to our home as the 'dewdrop inn' because of the never ending stream of people who would come by to stay an hour, a day, a week or a month or more.  It wasn't unusual on any given holiday for us each to invite a friend or two and not mention it, never realizing that our siblings had all done the same!  We didn't have a lot of money, but mom had amazing ways to make something out of almost nothing, or expand what she'd fixed to accommodate the extras that inevitably showed up at mealtimes.  Kind of like the story of the  'loaves and fishes; not only was there always enough to go around, but leftovers seemed to abound as well.

My reading in Matthew took me to that story again this morning, and as many times as I've read and studied it, the Lord spoke afresh to me as only He can.  It begins with Jesus telling the disciples that because He feels compassion for the crowds, He doesn't want to send them away hungry.  The men are perplexed, to say the least, immediately throwing out the impossibility of the situation :  Where would we get so many loaves  in a desert place to satisfy such a great multitude?

The simplicity of Jesus' response is what struck me.  He didn't preach a sermon on faith, or prod the disciples to trust Him  for great things.  He didn't remind them of all they had in Him, but instead, asked the question: How many loaves do you have?

Today I'm attending orientation for my PhD program at the University of San Diego, and it goes without saying that I am more than a little anxious.  The past couple of weeks as I walked the halls among the masses of teenagers and twenty-somethings to get mystudent ID card, as I've taken tutorials online to understand the library system (which has changed vastly in 30 years), as I've skimmed the Pocket Guide to APA Style and as I've read a series of articles required for my first class next week, my sense of inadequacy has only grown.  While I am excited about all I will learn and how I will grow, it is no false humility to say that this is going to stretch me like I've never been stretched before. God has led with each step of this journey, and I know without a doubt that He is fully sufficient, still, the question:  Am I up to the enormity of this? nags at me in my most quiet moments.

But this morning I think I heard the Lord asking me: How many loaves do you have? And I answered; Not many Lord.  But He asked again, and I felt as if He were telling me to lay it all out before Him -- not in spiritual platitudes or even blessed truths about His Spirit in me or my having His mind, but by looking honestly at my loaves -- those things that I have to bring to the table, so to speak, for this particular endeavor.  Well, Lord, I think I have a bit above average brain, but dont' share the brilliance I've seen in some folks in the program.  I have a hard work ethic that I've honed through the years of being a pastor's wife and a self-employed author.   I've developed some helpful skills and am comfortable with the writing process, and I love to do research and learn about all kinds of topics.  That's my loaves, as far as I can see.

Something happened though, as I went through the process of articulating these things before the Lord -- faith began to flood my soul until I almost laughed out loud.  Though the point from this story has surely been made ad infinitum, I knew in a deeper and more profound way that I serve a God who takes what I have -- whatever small part I can offer -- and multiplies it until there is more than enough to go around.  This is what I can count on in the days and years to come as I pursue this new venture.

When I was a young bride I asked my mom how she did it -- how she managed to take care of so many people, to feed all those unexpected mouths year after year.  She answered something about always having onion soup mix and spagetti noodles on hand, which didn't help me alot at the time, but I realized she'd had secrets and ways of working behind the scenes, that we were all unaware of as we happily filled our tummies and brought friends along to do the same through the years.  This morning as I sat before the Lord, I pondered the reality that He too has mysterious methods and unseen resources and it's going to be really fun to see how He will use them with what I've got to get the job done.  Now, instead of facing this day with low-grade dread, I'm feeling a growing sense of joyful anticipation.

Now if I can just figure out where the bookstore is...

My Best Defense

In two weeks I will be embarking on an adventure that both thrills and terrifies me.  After being away from the academic arena for 30 years, I am returning to school to pursue my PhD.  While I am absolutely confident that God has led me each step of the way, I have been trying to come to terms with how very different that environment will be from the ministry I have thoroughly loved for three plus decades. The question I've pondered is, how will I radiate the heart of Christ and stand unapologetically for the truths of my faith, in a culture that at the very least, looks askance at people like me. 

This morning I read something intriguing about the early church that greatly encouraged me.  In his book, All the Saints Adore Thee, Professor Bruce Shelley notes that when believers were ignored, hated, persecuted and maligned in the first three centuries, they had only one defense -- the way they lived their daily lives.  Simply put, when others judged and condemned them for the absurdity of their faith, they held up the purity, simplicity and beauty of their own lives as evidence that the charges were ill-founded.  Shelly says that this was the most effective defense, because the pagan population simply could not deny it.

As I thought about this, I realized that growing up in a country that guarantees me the right to practice my religion has not offered much opportunity for this kind of defense.  Instead of having only my own life to testify of the validity of my faith, I and multitudes of other Christ-followers have held up our inalienable rights as citizens of a free country, asking only that we be given the fundamental respect our constitution demands.  The problem though, is that while this may work as a legal defense, it does nothing to impact the hearts of those who watch us from afar.  It may, in fact, drive the wedge of disdain even deeper.

For this reason I am excited about my new venture, albeit with a bit of fear and trepidation.  I realize that within the hallowed realms of academia, that the most effective defense of my faith, indeed, the most powerful promotion of my beloved Redeemer, will be how I live out my life in front of the very people who may reject me for it.

This reality brings me a great deal of peace.  In truth, though all the circumstances of my life are about to undergo a drastic revolution, I need only cling to the simplicity and purity of devotion to Christ, as I have sought to do for decades now.  And by His grace, this will be not only my best defense, but the means by which I can display the beauty of His being and perhaps draw others to Him.

The following quote from a letter written by an anonymous believer in the early second century deeply moved me along these lines, and perhaps will encourage and challenge you as well:

They love all men, and by all men are persecuted.  They are unknown, and still they are condemned; they are put to death, and yet they are brought to life.  They are poor, and yet they make many rich; they are completely destitute, and yet they enjoy complete abundance.  They are dishonored, and in their dishonor, are glorified; they are defamed, and they are vindicated.  They are reviled, and yet they bless; when they are affronted, they still pay due respect.  When they do good, they are punished as evil doers; underoing punishment, they rejoice because thy are brought to life.  They are treated by the jews as foreigners and enmies, and are hunted down by the Greeks and all the time those who hate them find it impossible to justify their enmity. (The Letter to Diognetus, as quoted in Early Christian Fathers).

If indeed I do face enmity in this new venture, may those who reject me find it impossible to justify their enmity in light of the life I live.  This is the desire of my heart and will be my prayer with each new day.

Love You Forever

One of my favorite children’s books is Love You Forever, by Robert Munsch. In simple and humorous ways, Munsch depicts a mother’s love for her child from the time she first rocks her baby boy until he has become an adult with a daughter of his own. Through every awkward and frustrating stage that the boy goes through – whether flushing things down the toilet as a toddler or making endless messes as a boy or bringing home strange friends as a teenager – the mom simply cannot help sneaking into his room at night to look at him. And every time she does, she sings:

I’ll love you forever,
I’ll like you for always,
As long as I’m living
My baby you’ll be.

I read that book to my own sons again and again, singing the refrain (at times with tears), until they got too old and were no longer interested. I still have my dog-eared copy and thought of it this morning when I read Isaiah’s words;

Can a woman forget her nursing child,
And not have compassion on the son of her womb?
Surely they may forget,
Yet I will not forget you. (Isaiah 49:15)

Munsch’s book still moves me, perhaps because it touches on an ache in my heart that has never abated – that yearning to hold my children close, to encircle them with tender care, protecting, clinging, infusing them with love that stirs in me so strongly at times that I feel as if my heart might break wide open. It is hard for me to imagine that any mother wouldn't feel this way, that there are women who abandon their babies or abuse their young ones, or even withhold affection from children who need it most.

But this is precisely the point of God’s endearment in Isaiah. Though the love of a mother is a powerful force, it is never perfect and in the end cannot compare to the pulsating energy of Agapeo, the infinite love of God. As I pondered this, I began to imagine the Lord of the Universe, the great I AM, the transcendent ‘Other’ who holds the world together by His power -- watching me, wanting to hold me, aching to give expression to the love that fills His being. I find it almost impossible to wrap my mind around this mystery -- that the desire I feel for my kids is akin to a grain of sand on the seashore, when compared to the yearning God has to embrace me, His beloved daughter.

I read Munsch’s book again this morning and for a few moments found myself putting aside my failings from yesterday and my plans for success today. I stopped trying to figure how to be a more devoted Christ-follower; indeed I gave up every effort to be spiritual at all. I stopped everything and instead, let the Lord satisfy His own longing to hold me. And as I sat there in His embrace, I swear I heard Him singing:

I’ll love you forever,
I’ll like you for always.
As long as I’m living,
My baby you’ll be.

A Tribute to My Husband

Today Joe and I are celebrating our 36th wedding anniversary in a peaceful hideaway on the Northern California Coast. I am awake early, watching the sun cast its gentle glow over the waves as they meander to the shore. While Joe sleeps in – a luxury that only vacations seem to afford – I am relishing the wonder of the love we have shared these many years. He is such gift to me, and once again I have given thanks while telling the Lord of how I’ll never understand why He chose to grant me the blessing of a life with this amazing man.

As I considered all the things I am grateful for about Joe, I found myself pondering the one thing I would like to tell him today. There are so many great qualities – he’s caring, gentle, hard-working, always a servant – the list goes on. But in the end, the one thing I will always be in awe of is the way Joe loves me without condition. I’m keenly aware of my weaknesses and irritating idiosyncrasies, and have ministered in enough troubled marriages to know that this is no small feat. I don’t know how he does it, but somehow my husband has always believed in me, expected wonderful things from me and cheered me on to greater challenges in character and accomplishment. Yet, there has never been one moment when I’ve felt the pressure to perform or the need to be something other than what I am. In all these 36 plus years, I have felt absolutely free to live in my own skin, warts and all. This is an astounding gift, and pure grace.

I share this private and precious reality because I realized that this quality in Joe so perfectly radiates the heart of Christ for us all. Jesus wants the best, believes the best, and expects the best from each of us, but never hits us over the head with it. He never withholds His love and affection because we aren’t living up to our potential or pursuing change with sufficient diligence. Our Lord simply walks beside us, fully accepting, always loving and gladly cheering us on with confidence; so that all we can do is respond with humble gratitude.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could all grant such a gift to each other? This is the takeaway I hope you’ll get from my little tribute. Think of the people in your life today – how can you extend to them the full force of unwavering, expectant love, which has no strings attached? To be honest, this quality seems to have been a part of my husband since the day I met him, but it doesn’t come quite so easily for me. Still, I want to press into this more, for I believe it so deeply pleases the Lord who made us to display His glory in every relationship.

I’m off to spend the day with my beloved husband now. Joe, I hope I’ve honored you in some small measure with these words, although I’m well aware that public acclaim is the last thing you’re interested in. Still, happy anniversary love of my life – thank you with all of my heart for 36 incredible years.

I've Been Getting it All Wrong...

This morning I was skimming through a 1999 prayer journal and stopped short at a lengthy discussion I had with the Lord that went something like this::

"Lord, I feel like I am not doing enough for your kingdom and I need to know how I can be more diligent"
"I no longer call you servant, but friend."
"Yeah, I know Lord, but there are some decisions I need to make about my time and your work and..."
"Tricia, you are my friend. I have come to dine with you, and I'd like to just sit here awhile and enjoy your company, but you keep getting up to do the dishes."

As I read those words, I suddenly had an epiphany of sorts, which I want to share, but first I have a confession to make. I haven't enjoyed my focus on 'living intentionally' these first six months of 2010 and if I'm honest, haven't been very successful at the whole thing. For several days I've been frustrated at this, asking the Lord why it wasn't going so well, when I felt confident He had led me on this venture. He wasn't answering, that is, until I found the old journal entry.

So here was the epiphany: I've been focusing on being intentional about the wrong thing. For me, being intentional has meant trying to make the most of each day, looking for opportunities to accomplish the Lord's purposes -- from conversations to finances to time management and beyond. Now there's nothing inherently wrong in this, but somewhere in the process I slipped slightly off course and the things I felt I needed to do became front and center. What I really needed was to be intentional about pressing into my intimacy with Jesus, and letting everything else flow out of that.

This is so basic you'd think I'd have it down by now, but there you have it. I have had the cart before the horse, so to speak, and I suspect some of you have done the same thing.

As I've looked at 2010 and compared it to 2009, I realized that when I was passionate about learning how to 'live loved', I knew the joy of Jesus' presence, of His desire to be with me, and as a result, was eager to walk with Him throughout each day, looking for His hand, experiencing His heart. And in the process, I ended up being far more intentional than I've been this year, when I've been trying so hard to be intentional.

So here is my commitment for the next six months of 2010: I am going to be as intentional as I can to dine with Christ --to walk with Him, enjoy His presence, learn of His heart and feast on the riches of His grace. And as I do, perhaps all those areas of my life that I've purposed to put under His control, will find a more natural fit.

My step is lighter today and I feel like I've thrown off a nagging weight. We are leaving today for a week on the Northern California coast where there will be no cell phone coverage and limited internet. I plan to put my new resolution into practice as I stand on the rocky cliffs and gaze out at the sea. I can't wait. I'll let you know how it went when I come back -- until then, I hope you can rest a little easier too and enjoy being intentional about knowing Jesus.

I'm Putting My Foot Down

A couple of days ago I was on a morning walk when a dachshund came running out from between two cars, barking up a storm. I saw right away that he didn't have a leash, so I assumed he must have gotten out of his owner's yard. My first impulse was to simply ignore the little guy -- I mean, it was just a weener dog, after all. I walked on a few steps, meticulously avoiding eye contact, but that dog only got louder as he advanced further into the street.

I thought about kneeling down to see if the crazy canine wanted to make friends. I'm usually pretty good at that, having learned long ago that you just put out your down-turned hand and wait for them to come and sniff at their leisure. But by then he was growling like a surly teenager and didn't look at all like he cared to make my acquaintance. I could just see myself in an emergency room trying to explain how I got bit in the hand by someone's precious little pet.

It occurred to me to just keep walking and talk nicely with a calm voice, so I said something to the effect that I knew he was a good dog and his owner was going to miss him, so he needed to go home now. Apparently he didn't agree, because he came within a couple of feet, his whole body shaking as he barked angrily away.

Now all this happened in less than a minute's time, but I knew I had to do something quick or I wasn't going to win against this ferocious animal, so without even thinking I stopped in my tracks, looked him straight in the eye, stomped my foot and yelled at the top of my lungs: "You go home NOW."

Would you believe that dog immediately turned tail and ran like the dickens back into his own yard? Now I know where they got that saying, "all bark and no bite."

So this morning as I was praying about an area of struggle in my life, the memory of that dog came to mind. (God has always seemed to enjoy teaching me deep spiritual truths from my most inane life adventures and this was no exception.) As I waited before the Lord, it occurred to me that when it comes to certain besetting sins or strongholds, I will try everything under the sun to rid myself of them. I'll ignore them as long as I can, and when that doesn't work, I'll befriend them, trying to see their insidious effects in a more positive light. I'll hem and haw and justify and reason with myself until I'm blue in the face, but in the end, of course, none of this works.

Worst of all, I am clueless to the fact that this thing, whatever it might be, is at best slowing me down, and at worst stopping me completely from going forward in my spiritual journey. If truth be told, when it comes to dealing with my stuff -- whether sin or simply weakness -- there is always going to be a time when I'll have to get good and mad, put my foot down, and say 'enough is enough!' Anything else simply won't get me where I need to go.

So that's what I'm doing today--I'm looking at an area of weakness, as well as the evil one who capitalizes on it, and I'm stomping my feet and saying, "It's over", with all the authority I can muster in the power of God's Spirit! I'm not foolish enough to think the battle will be won quite as easily as my encounter with that dachshund, but I really do believe that greater victory is within reach as I continue to stand my ground.

Stay tuned -- I'll keep you posted on my progress. Meanwhile, watch out for menacing muts, who think they're 'all that'.

Grace is a River

Growing up in the church, I heard a lot about grace but to be honest, I never really got it.  I knew that it meant 'unmerited favor', which basically reminded me that Jesus had saved me out of the goodness of His own heart and not because of anything in me.  This is true.  But what I didn't understand for years was that grace is not only the favor of God in redeeming me, but also His kindness in giving me the ability -- the power and strength and motivation -- to live out my life as a Christ follower.  Once I really saw this, grace became my lifeline and took on a beauty in my heart that I am hard pressed to even explain.

So yesterday I was re-reading Brother Lawrence's The Practice of the Presence of God and something he wrote literally upended my day.  It read:

But when He finds a soul penetrated with a lively faith, He pours into it His grace and favors plentifully.  There they flow like a torrent, which, after being forcibly stopped against its ordinary course, when it has found a passage, spreads itself with impetuosity and abundance.

Suddenly I envisioned grace as a river, flooding into my soul, looking for places to run.  I was overcome with that image of an impetuous force, determined to break down every barrier so that it can go where it wants to go.  I know that there is debris in my heart that can hinder the flow -- things like indifference or unbelief or worldliness or sinful practices -- but still this torrent presses relentlessly and I feel the weight of it.   Grace, it seems, will find a way.

Grace is a river, a mighty rushing river looking for places to run in me.  I feel as if I ought to be able to burst out in song here!  Do you see?  Instead of God's favor or enabling power being something He waits on high to pour out until I ask, or get my ducks in a row, His grace is just there, pulsing through my heart, pressing against every obstacle.  And the simplest of acts -- things like a word of faith, a small turning, a moment of worship, a whisper of love, or a cry for help -- will release the flow into yet another tributary.

Amazing grace!  May we bow in wonder as it surges through our souls.