When God Has Other Plans

Last Sunday morning, I was scheduled to serve as a prayer counselor at my church. Other Sundays, I’m a member of the worship team. I was also looking forward to participating in chapel service at a women’s shelter in a couple of weeks. I love my church family and all the opportunities to serve.

Back to last Sunday. I woke up to my usual alarm at 6:00, plenty of time to sip coffee with my husband John and walk our lovable Shih Tzu named Paavo. Our dog is our only kid, and we can’t imagine life without him.

But instead of walking Paavo and going to church, the morning was spent at the local animal emergency room. Paavo had begun to tremble and whimper, obviously in excruciating pain. In the waiting room, I texted our prayer team leader, explained why I would not be in church, and asked for prayer. She immediately replied that they would be praying for us and “sweet Paavo.”

After examining Paavo and giving him a pain injection, the doctor explained that Paavo was likely suffering from intervertebral disc disease (IVDD). Since Paavo could walk, his condition could be managed without surgery. 

My heart sank as I listened to the discharge instructions: 4 weeks of strict rest in a crate or confined area to allow healing. No running, jumping or excessive walking. Paavo would have to be carried outdoors for potty, then right back in the house. Plus three medications. Paavo loves to run in our yard and go for long walks. I was heartbroken for him.

Obviously, schedules had to be cleared. My family needed me at home for the next few weeks. That meant no worship team or prayer team. And I felt a twinge when I realized I’d have to miss our chapel service at the women’s shelter. Months of saying “yes” came to a temporary screeching halt. 

But I am reminded that challenges and disappointments are also opportunities to grow in grace. I may think I have it all figured out — where and how I will serve — but God reminds me that I am not in control. 

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11

We are a week into Paavo’s convalescence and recovery. He improves every day and wants so badly to run, jump and go for walks. For a change of scene, I sometimes carry him to another part of our neighborhood. He sniffs and sniffs for just a few minutes, just being a dog and savoring this all-too-brief break from IVDD “jail.”

I look forward to returning to my church activities in a few weeks. But meanwhile, God has other plans. When I see a smile in Paavo’s eyes after we play a gentle game, my heart melts. His expression softens as John strokes him and reassures him. We softly tell Paavo that he’s going to be all right, that he needs to rest so he can heal.

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” Romans 12:2

Sometimes following Jesus leads to an unexpected bend in the road — a detour in a carefully drawn roadmap. But those interruptions can bring unexpected graces in ordinary circumstances. It can be as simple as a smile on my dog’s face, where there once was fear and pain. Or seeing my husband with renewed affection, as he soothes and cares for Paavo. 

With Jesus as my Lord and Savior, God can transform me through my circumstances. He loves me as no one else can — enough to die for me. 

How about you? Are interrupted plans leaving you discouraged and frustrated? If you haven’t already, maybe this is the time to put your life in God’s hands and accept that gift of salvation. 

Waiting for Spring

Late February is a tricky time of year here in Boise. We enjoy increasing hours of daylight and the warmth of the sun. Tender green shoots are emerging from the long frozen ground. And then we open the door one morning and see…snow!

Yesterday’s coating of snow has melted, however, and the familiar sweet tug of spring has returned. In our garden, the rhubarb and day lilies are coming up. There’s a profusion of buds on our lilac shrub and plum tree. When I walk our dog, I scan neighborhood yards for purple crocuses, those cheerful flowers that bravely poke through the snow.

I can hardly wait for planting time, when I can plunge my hands into the soil and smell the earth. Tending the garden brings peace and joy, as many avid gardeners will tell you.

Late winter and early spring is an emotional time for many people. Witnessing the changing seasons affects us at the deepest level, in our hearts. Maybe we’re recalling that moment when our Creator reached down and formed the first human from part of the ground.

“then the LORD God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature.” Genesis 2:7 (ESV)

Come to think of it, humanity’s first days were spent in a garden.

“And the LORD God planted a garden in Eden, in the east, and there he put the man whom he had formed.” Genesis 2:8 (ESV)

We join with all of creation in praising God.

“For you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.” Isaiah 55:12 (ESV)

“Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice; let the sea roar, and all that fills it; let the field exult, and everything in it! Then shall all the trees of the forest sing for joy!” Psalm 96:11-12 (ESV)

Grateful that God has given us the ability to recognize the beauty of every season. I’m praying that the promise of spring reminds us all of the promise of the cross and gift of salvation through Jesus Christ!

Giving Thanks, Then and Now

As Thanksgiving winds down, I am realizing that for the first time in two years, I am excited about the holiday season. The years 2020 and 2021 were challenging and traumatic for everyone, and my family had its share of personal sorrows and worries. My mom passed away in October, 2020 and my mother-in-law in February, 2021. My husband John had open heart surgery in September, 2021, during our state’s worst COVID-19 surge. Needless to say, we were almost too exhausted to be merry.

But this year, the childlike excitement is returning. While Thanksgiving dinner was in the oven, I began putting up the Christmas decorations. I have a yearning to listen to Christmas music. I keep pointing out to John how cute our decorations look. This Thanksgiving, I’m grateful and relieved to be emerging from the darkest shadows of grief. Bittersweet feelings are still there, but joy abounds as well!

This morning, I carefully lay a strand of Christmas lights behind mementos that we keep on the fireplace mantel. There’s the set of bowls my mom gave us a few Christmases ago. Here are the hummingbird feeders John’s daughter gave us. And here is a tiny bear figurine — I love bears — that I bought for myself.

Each item is a reminder of treasured memories and people. Joys and sorrows. Gratitude for the way God sees us through the good and the not so good times.

“Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen. He named it Ebenezer, saying, ‘Thus far the Lord has helped us.’” 1 Samuel 7:12 (NIV)

I think of the stone that the prophet Samuel placed as a memorial to God’s faithfulness and protection. The stone was called Ebenezer, and it symbolized God’s help in victory on the battlefield. But even if we have never fought in actual combat, we face other kinds of battles — anxiety, grief, overwhelm, discouragement, pandemic, job loss. In the midst of these struggles, we can feel alone and defeated. We may wonder if we’ll ever laugh or celebrate again.

As I look at the mementos that sit on our mantel, I realize that each one is a kind of memorial stone. They remind me of how God brings joy, laughter and love — and how He carries us through grief and worry.

“Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.
His love endures forever.” Psalm 136:1 (NIV)

This year, as I savor the sights and sounds of Christmas, I will indulge in my childlike excitement. The holidays are still tinged with sadness, but the sense of wonder and adoration for the Christ child envelops us. I will remember God’s faithfulness in years past and give thanks that His love endures forever.

Monday Eye-Opener: Pinholes

Image by Pexels via Pixabay

 

Sometimes the most ordinary situations allow us to show the love of Christ to our friends, families and neighbors. Inner promptings let us know how we can serve others. We set aside our personal agendas to buy lunch for a homeless person, visit a friend in the hospital or even bring in the neighbor’s trash barrels.  

Yesterday in church, our pastor quoted Oswald Chambers:

“If I obey Jesus Christ in the seemingly random circumstances of life, they become pinholes through which I see the face of God.” — Oswald Chambers.

When I worked at a faith-based shelter for women and children, our

director described our job as being “the hands and feet of Jesus.” Every meal we served, every intake we completed, every laugh we shared may have been someone’s first glimpse of God’s love. Maybe our random acts of kindness are part of our own search for God.

 

”And you will seek me and find Me when you search for me with all your heart.” Jeremiah 29:13

I’m reminded that I don’t have to wait for dramatic events in order to be the hands and feet of Jesus. What really matters is that I give my whole heart to God in my everyday life.

This week, as we rush through the usual work deadlines, appointments and errands, let’s pause long enough to recognize those “pinholes through which I see the face of God.”

A New Thing

Before I sat down to write, I knew it had been a long time since my last post in this blog. But I was surprised when I saw that my most recent post was nearly two years ago! Like the last post, I am writing today as temperatures drop and winter approaches. As I cut back some of our shrubs and flowering vines, the backyard is beginning to look barren. In fact, the past two years have seemed barren, with never-ending reports of COVID-19 lockdowns, surges and new strains. 

I turned 60 this year, which means I am considered “senior” in some circles. The occasional senior discount is always welcome! But I can’t help noticing the stereotypes that persist about people over 60. Even in some churches, it’s not unheard of to see a maximum cutoff age of 45 for ordained ministry. In many ways, the world tells us that after a “certain age,” we are barren — not just regarding our ability to bear children, but our ability to contribute and inspire. 

 

I beg to differ. I’ve lost count of the number of older people God uses in the Bible. There’s Noah, Moses, Sarah and Elizabeth. Hannah cried out to the Lord and gave birth to Samuel. Naomi lost her sons and Ruth lost her husband in an age when no husband or sons meant no future. But both women carried on with faith and grit and found new hope. Barrenness is not a life sentence in the Lord’s eyes.

“…the LORD remembered her plea, and in due time she gave birth to a son. She named him Samuel, for she said, ‘I asked the LORD for him.’” 1 Samuel

 1:19-20 (NLT)

“The LORD kept his word and did for Sarah exactly what he had promised.” Genesis 21:1 (NLT)

“Then the women of the town said to Naomi, “Praise the LORD, who has now provided a redeemer for your family! May this child be famous in Israel. May he restore your youth and care for you in your old age. For he is the son of your daughter-in-law who loves you and has been better to you than seven sons!” Ruth 4:14-15 (NLT)

 

But barrenness doesn’t always refer to childlessness. We can experience many kinds of dry spells that make life seem like a wasteland. We long to conceive and give birth to something new. We cry out to God and wonder if our cries are heard. 

 

At times during the past two years, I felt adrift in a spiritual wasteland. I believed that something new was waiting to be born, and I rushed here and there trying to make it happen. I busied myself with church work, becoming a Deacon and eventually Deacon Moderator. The work blessed me richly, but I still felt depleted and sad. Then I immersed myself in Zen Buddhism, where I met lovely people but still felt spiritually and creatively exhausted.

 

Things began to turn around this summer and fall. I was intrigued by a sign announcing that a new church was holding worship services about a block from our house. “Love God. Love people,” the sign said. Then a couple of weeks ago, I was waiting for a city bus, heading home after doing errands. A young man sat next to me and began talking about Jesus and the Bible. 

 

“I hope you and your husband will open that book,” he said. We did. And I finally started attending the new church. It’s tiny — 30 people at most — but growing.

 

At my new church, we are studying the book of Ruth. I am reminded that God uses our circumstances to achieve His purpose for our lives. Like Ruth and Naomi, we can feel lost and even bitter. We work and wonder if we are still part of God’s plan. 

Image by ollis-picture via Pixabay

 

But God still has a purpose for me. I see hints of it with every “coincidence” and prompting. Where I once saw bewilderment and disappointment, I now sense a creative stirring. A quickening. A new story waiting to be born.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

“Forget the former things;

do not dwell on the past.

See, I am doing a new thing!

Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

I am making a way in the wilderness

and streams in the wasteland.” Isaiah 43:18-19 (NIV)

 

How about you? When have you experienced barrenness and cried out to God? What are the wombs that God has opened in your life? What new thing is waiting to be born?

When Winter Comes Early

“Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.” Luke 12:27 (ESV)

Our first snowfall cam a bit early this year. In many ways, the year 2020 has seemed liked an endless winter. During the COVID-19 lockdown in the spring, I was grateful for the refreshing beauty of our Idaho garden. Throughout the summer, I wanted to hold onto the colors and fragrances of the roses, mock orange, day lilies and — most of all — the purple lilac.

 

Purple lilac is the state flower of my native state, New Hampshire, and its sweet fragrance always triggers fond childhood memories. This year, the memories were especially poignant as my mom moved into a nursing home after a heart attack in July. The restrictions of COVID-19 made visits few and far between. I spent many afternoons sitting in our backyard, talking to my mom on the phone while looking at our beloved flowering shrubs and vines. 

When my mom passed away in October, the dwindling daylight hours matched my darkened state of mind. Grief became a heavy blanket that threatened to smother me. I desperately looked for a sign of hope. 

I found that sign in our lilac shrub, which holds springtime in its branches, even when winter comes early! You see, lilacs begin to form next year’s flower buds soon after they finish blooming. If you look closely, you can see these buds at the ends of the branches. 

It’s like seeing next spring in the middle of winter! I love that about plants — when the landscape looks dead and dreary, good things are already happening. 

“The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.” Song of Solomon 2:12 (ESV)

Just as we can picture buds forming in the dead of winter, we can have faith that new beginnings are already underway. Grief, disappointment and other difficult passages bring winter’s chill into our lives. But hope has a way of sneaking up on us, even if we can’t see it at the moment. I see next year’s lilac buds and remember new life, resurrection, unexpected joy. 

Amen.

The Whole of Creation

“God created us 

to praise, reverence, and serve God 

and in this way to save our souls. 

God created all of the rest of creation 

to help us achieve the purpose for which 

God created us.”

St. Ignatius of Loyola

 

I read this quotation this week in an online retreat offered by Creighton University. My spiritual director recommended the retreat a few weeks ago, after I mentioned that I couldn’t seem to find a spiritual practice that was a good fit for my life. I’m so glad she did!

This quotation sparked a sense of wonder and gratitude for my relationship with God’s creation. I was struck by the different ways we can interpret the statement that God created the rest of creation to help us achieve God’s purpose for our lives. I have always been uncomfortable with the idea that creation — animals, plants, natural resources — should be at humanity’s beck and call. 

“The LORD God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.“ Genesis 2:15

 

What if we recall our role as caretakers of the Garden? What if we read and take to heart the Bible verses that proclaim God’s love for all creation? 

 

“I now establish my covenant with you and with your descendants after you and with every living creature that was with you—the birds, the livestock and all the wild animals, all those that came out of the ark with you—every living creature on earth.” Genesis 9:9-10

 

“But ask the animals, and they will teach you,

or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you;

or speak to the earth, and it will teach you,

or let the fish in the sea inform you. 

Which of all these does not know

that the hand of the Lord has done this?” Job 12:7-9

 

“You will go out in joy

and be led forth in peace;

the mountains and hills

will burst into song before you,

and all the trees of the field

will clap their hands.” Isaiah 55:12

 

Perhaps, as St. Ignatius wrote, the rest of creation helps us when we see ourselves as part of the whole of creation. Maybe the earth, as the verse in Job tells us, really is waiting to teach us. For example, what if instead of exploiting natural resources, we learn to act as caretakers? 

 

“For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.” Romans 1:20

 

If we are “without excuse,” then we are able — with God’s help — to use our resources to nourish and heal. Then we can indeed join every living creature, the mountains, hills and trees, in praise and joy. We will clearly see the ways in which the rest of creation can help us.

 

 

 

Our Own Worst Enemy?

As I read my Bible-in-a-year chapters the other day, I was struck by a couple of verses in Psalm 69. With online Easter worship still fresh in my mind, the verses reminded me of the power of Christ’s love, sacrifice and resurrection.

We’ve been living through strange and frightening times with this pandemic. As we shelter in place, it’s easy to feel besieged — by loneliness, boredom, fear, viruses. Our fears loom large after yet another sleepless night.

“Those who hate me without reason outnumber the hairs of my head; many are my enemies without cause, those who seek to destroy me. I am forced to restore what I did not steal.”
Ps 69:4

Yet when we feel overwhelmed by it all, we remember the love that led One to “restore what He did did not steal.” We can loosen our grip, even if it’s just a little at first. As my 12-step program teaches, we can surrender to our higher power “just for today.”

“Do not let the floodwaters engulf me or the depths swallow me up or the pit close its mouth over me.” Ps 69:15

But can’t our own thoughts behave like enemies? We worry about loved ones, opinions of others, even the next Presidential election. I know that when I’m tired or overwhelmed, my own thoughts seem to “engulf me” or “swallow me up.” Can you relate?

“Grace and peace be yours in abundance through the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord.” 2 Peter 1:2

“We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” 2 Corinthians 10:5

Whether a threat is external or internal, God’s grace and peace never change. We are the ones who come and go, who hold tightly to our fears. But the more we seek knowledge of God, the more we can recognize God’s grace and peace.

Grateful for the One who paid what He did not owe, restored what He did not steal.

I hope this post finds you well!

He Has Set My Feet in a Spacious Place

Call it what you will: “shelter in place,” “lockdown,” “stay at home,” “self-quarantine.” Our individual worlds have become smaller due to a microscopic but deadly enemy. Shopping trips have dwindled to nervous visits to the grocery store, complete with face masks and social distancing. Hugs between friends are forbidden. Even medical appointments are postponed as hospitals and clinics are overwhelmed with COVID-19 concerns. We wonder, is there any way out?

I’ve been participating in a Bible-in-a-year study this year, and was struck by one of today’s readings, Psalm 31. At first, the Psalm impressed me as a fine example of King David’s laments. But I didn’t really identify with it on a personal level, since I am not persecuted or running for my life. 

Or am I? After reading the Psalm several times, one verse jumped out:

“You have not given me into the hands of the enemy but have set my feet in a spacious place.” Psalm 31:8 (NIV) 

I took another look at the word “enemy,” and thought of the coronavirus. But then I looked looked inward. Aren’t there enemies that attack us from within? Fear, boredom, resentment and greed can devour us from the inside out. Don’t we need God to deliver us from these enemies, too? 

“A spacious place.” Now more than ever, we crave space to travel freely. We’d love to browse through our favorite bookstore or eat in our favorite restaurant. Yet there’s also too much space between us, as visits with friends and colleagues are relegated to FaceTime and Zoom. But God can draw hearts closer in spite of social distancing, and give us a broader perspective while we’re sheltering in place.

I love this translation, too:

“You have not handed me over to my enemies but have set me in a safe place.” (NLT)

Whether it’s more space or less space, we look to God for a safe place — a place that transcends circumstances. We feel less isolated and resentful. We begin to notice opportunities for compassion for others as well as ourselves. 

“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.” Isaiah 26:3 (NIV)

“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:7 (NIV)

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever.” Psalm 23:6 (ESV)

There’s no getting around it: we still dream of get-togethers with loved ones, birthday parties for kids. We long for the day when we won’t have to say, “stay safe!” In the meantime, however, God enlarges our vision and reworks our plans. Knowing that we can rely on God’s goodness and mercy, we find respite in that safe and spacious place within. 

Tarnished Silver Lining?

I had big plans for the COVID-19 stay-at-home period. I would stay positive and savor the renewed sense of fellowship and caring I was witnessing in our community. Neighbors ran errands (and still do!) for their at-risk neighbors. Stores offered cure-side delivery and set aside shopping hours for elderly and high-risk customers. Brightly colored, encouraging chalk art appeared on local sidewalks. 

In short, we counted our blessings and noted how staying apart was drawing us closer. It was easy to find a silver lining to this dangerous time. 

But now, that silver lining has tarnished. Terror seeps in as the death toll continues to rise. On the news, we see field hospitals in New York’s Central Park. We hear reports of thousands of deaths in nursing homes — more than we previously realized. We worry obsessively about vulnerable loved ones. We miss seeing friends at the coffee shop, church or the gym. We carry out the surreal tasks of making protective masks, rationing toilet paper and wondering if the grocery shelves will be stocked today. In fact, it’s been weeks since I’ve set foot in a store.

How do I “stay positive” when each day looks less and less like the life I took for granted? The truth is, I can’t. None of us can, and we don’t have to because we can’t hold it together indefinitely.

We’re in good company, in fact. Even faith heroes of the Bible had moments when all they could do was wring their hands and sit with their pain. King David said it well, many times:

“My heart is afflicted, and withered like grass;

I even forget to eat my bread.” Psalm 102:4

“I am worn out from my groaning.

All night long I flood my bed with weeping

and drench my couch with tears.” Psalm 6:6

Then we are reminded that we are not alone:

“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:7

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:27

Sometimes all we can do is lean on the One who can carry all our burdens. We still can’t see beyond the next report of confirmed COVID-19 cases. We still don’t know when we’ll be able to browse in a bookstore or celebrate a friend’s birthday in person. 

All we can do is take God’s word for it — that we are loved with a love that is bigger than we can comprehend. Somehow that love keeps us hanging on,  giving us eyes to see our present day sacrifices as acts of love. 

So we get out of bed another day, still bewildered by the statistics and warnings that bombard us. Who wouldn’t be? 

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

I’ve often relied on this verse when my soul needs rest and refreshment. But today, I am struck by the words, “learn from me.” During a time of sheltering in place and social distancing, I certainly have the time and space to sit at His feet and listen, as did Martha’s sister Mary:

“She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said.” Luke 10:39

For now, I will take Jesus up on His offer, not just to find rest, but to learn from Him. Maybe the lessons will come during prayer, or quiet moments in the garden, or even in the midst of worry. 

“I will give you rest.”

We sure need it.