How Deep our Father's Love for Us

My friend Emily was involved in a car accident last week. It was a "small" accident as car accidents go--low speed, superficial bodily injuries (though the psychological ones go deeper), dented metal, broken tie rods... But this is what she said in writing about it,

"i was crying half because it was scary
& i was in pain
& the other half because i was so
relieved that the kids were okay...
it's amazing how their well-being is
so much wrapped up into my everything.
i know it's like that for all parents...
we would always take the pain for our kids
if we could..."

I love that line "it's so amazing how their well-being is so much wrapped up into my everything". Every parent feels that way. Every parent SHOULD feel that way. It is God in us, at our very core. He created us to be that way so that we would understand HIM better, so that we could better comprehend HIS love for us.

I have been sensing in people lately, and hearing it outright as well, an uneasiness about our economy, our future, our jobs. And although I have had trouble putting it into words, I think Emily put it very well. If we know how to give good gifts to our children, how much better does our Father know how to give good gifts to us? We are His everything!! And He owns the cattle on a thousand hills. His wealth and his ability to provide for us have nothing to do with the economy.

Pruning, pruning, and more pruning

It's that time of year!!

When I was in college, one NT professor had us memorize massive passages of scripture. Until then, I had only learned a verse here and a verse there. I had no idea I was even capable of memorizing whole chapters! (Thank you, Dr. Root.) One of the passages that lives in my heart and that comes up at least once a year--way more often than that, usually--is John 15. It starts off like this, Jesus is talking to his disciples, probably at his last meal with them before his death, or perhaps on the way to the olive grove, where he would be arrested:

"I am the true vine and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he trims clean so that it will be even more fruitful. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.

I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If anyone does not remain in me, he is like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be given you. This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.

As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything I have learned from my Father I have made known to you. You did not choose me, but I chose you to go and bear fruit--fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. This is my command: Love each other. "

Pruning is an art form. We prune for many reasons, with different results. Roses seem to thrive on pruning. We cut them back all summer and they just grow and bloom more and more. Then in the winter, we cut away the dead wood so the new growth has room to grow. I prune my arborvitae hedge so that is will remain fairly low, so that I can see traffic over it, and traffic can see me. I prune the fruit trees I just planted to encourage root growth, and for the next few years I will not let them put their energy into producing fruit at all, but will pluck the fruit while it is small so that the trees will put their energy into growing strong roots and a strong trunk.

This has been a year of much growth for me and I feel like I am in a dormant, rather numb state right now, with changes in our business and the loss of my grandma and brother. But the truth is, I'm ready for God to prune away. Pruning the dead wood does not hurt. it changes what I look like, I may have to give up things I'm used to--and heaven knows I don't like change!--but it's all for the best. The dead wood will be in the way of the new growth. I need to surrender to the Gardener.

Some of the pruning God is doing in me is to make me more suited to His plans. I had neglected to prune my arborvitae hedge for many years, and did a severe pruning this year, taking it from 10 or 12 feet down to about 6. It is all level and neat-looking now and I asked Mr. K what he thought. "I liked it better the old way." We do get used to ourselves and it's hard for us to accept change in ourselves, especially when we cannot see the purpose. I'm sure my hedge was thinking "Up, up, up I grow. Oh how lovely and tall I am!" But my desire is that if a horse escapes and runs down the driveway, any traffic coming might have 50 feet to see it, rather than 6. I may like growing tall and wild; but God may have another purpose for me. I need to yield to the Gardener.

Some of the growing I did this year was hard and the kind that is meant to last. Some of the pruning God is doing in me is to keep me from fruiting in certain areas so that my trunk may grow strong and my root system may flourish, so that in the future I will be able to support and sustain a rich harvest. Did you notice how all the apple trees this years seemed to be overladen? If my limbs grow too fast, when the time comes to fruit bountifully, my limbs may be too weak and break. I need to accept the Gardener's de-fruiting, even though it seems contrary to my purpose in life. I need to trust the Gardener.

Some of the pruning He does to make me more productive. Sometimes he picks roses for a bouquet for His delight, or dead-heads the previous blooms to encourage me to flower more. I need to take joy in the Gardener's pruning, as He takes joy in me.

Whatever the Gardener chooses to do in me, I need to yield and surrender to it willingly, joyfully and trustingly. I am in His garden, planted for His purposes, and for His delight. I want to live in His garden forever. So I will accept this season of rest and pruning; knowing that Spring is just around the corner, and I will be all the more useful and productive in the long run for the pruning I have embraced this winter.

(photo by Hannah Mills)

Another Blog Worth Repeating....

http://youhavemyword.blogspot.com/2009/01/pendulum-parenting-article-from-world.html

This is really good. Focus on what really matters (for parents).

ooooh, the light!

We have been sopped in with fog for a long time--it feels like forever. The fog never lifts, the sun never breaks through, it is barely above freezing, and our eyes are getting used to the grayness. Friday I drove to Eugene and the sun was shining. I could barely see, the sun was so bright. When we headed back home, I could see to the north a wall of gray extending clear to the ground, and within just a few miles the sun was but a memory and the fog once again surrounded us, muffling sounds and dimming light.

I again drove to Eugene on Saturday, but this time when I drove home, the sun stayed with me and was out all day. It was a much noisier day at home and much brighter (and MUCH colder).

This morning was so beautiful, though. The sun was shining, frost glimmered on everything, and the birds were singing--not loudly, but rather subdued, as if the sunny morning were a matter-of-fact event, rather than a really exciting change of events.

But how accustomed we become to our environment and our culture and the evil around us,that pretty soon it all becomes "normal". We need to remember the sunshine, how glorious it feels and how it fills our hearts with joy and hope and anticipation. We need to remember the "good" in our lives and keep it always before us--those times when things went perfectly and we had little glimpses of what heaven must be like.

The fog wants to always settle down around us. It comes insipidly, falling silently like the snow. It blocks out the sunlight and mutes the sounds around us. It locks us into our own little spheres, lulling us into complacency. Pretty soon we become accustomed to our neighbor yelling at her grandchildren, the high school girls wearing too-tight clothes, the disrespectful language around us, hand signs and honking horns not meant to convey courtesy, "public displays of affection" that are more willful acts of lust than of affection, and lewd behavior in general. We need to recognize evil for what it is and rebel against even the littlest vestiges that waft down around us.

We can't always make the fog lift. There is evil all around us. But we can choose not to participate it in, not to react in kind, not to accept it as "normal", but to call it what it is. And we can fix our minds on the "good" things in life, the acts of kindness and selflessness, the beautiful things. We can be the light in our own little "spheres" and drive the fog off, at least in our realms.

Philippians 4:8 "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things."

I Can Only Imagine

There is a popular song by the group Mercy Me called I Can Only Imagine. If you have never heard it, the lyrics are below. Take a minute and listen to it and let it soak into your heart.

Either by design or by conditioning, I tend to be a fairly reserved person. I love my church, but I don't really fit in to the worship style. I'm not saying I don't enjoy it; but I sometimes I lack the inhibition to just let myself worship...This is an area where God is working in me--and I'm pretty sure it's WAY down on the list. But this song always makes me feel like whatever my response to God is, it's okay. I don't have to conform to what everyone around me is doing.

When I was 12, we moved from Vancouver to Anchorage. We took the scenic route, but our dog and cat took the plane. I remember going to pick them up at the airport. Our dog, in his crate, was sitting silently. Our cat, in her crate, was letting the whole airport know, in her operatic yowling aria, that she was not happy about her circumstances. I'm sure, had there been a translator present, people there might have heard, "I demand to see the owner. You have no right to keep me penned up. Don't you KNOW who I am? I have rights! When I get outta here, heads will roll...."

It had been at least a week, perhaps more, since I had seen my pets, and I was as excited to see them as they were to see me. I still remember my cat's voice then. Before I could even see the crates, and before my pets could see me, I called to them. Immediately, my cat became silent and my dog began singing a happy, yippy, I'm-SO-glad-to-see-you song.

The contrast was so great, that I still remember that moment, more than three decades later, and will probably remember it the rest of my life. It was almost funny, how opposite their reactions were, both to being crated and alone, and to hearing my voice.

I think about that in worship, when I am quiet and my fellow worshippers are dancing and waving their hands. I imagine, should Jesus return at that moment, speaking to us from the doorway, that they would fall flat on their faces and be still, and I would be dancing and singing and jumping around like a happy dog, reunited at long last with his family. I can only imagine.

I Can Only Imagine

I can only imagine what it will be like when I walk by Your side.
I can only imagine what my eyes will see when Your Face is before me.
I can only imagine, Yeah.

Surrounded by Your Glory, what will my heart feel?
Will I dance for you, Jesus or in awe of You be still?
Will I stand in Your presence or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing "Hallelujah"? Will I be able to speak at all?
I can only imagine.
I can only imagine.

I can only imagine, when that day comes, and I find myself standing in the Son.
I can only imagine, when all I will do is forever, forever worship You.
I can only imagine.
Yeah, I can only imagine.

Plumbing and Letting Go

For those of you who haven't been following my facebook groanings, our recent dips into the teens played havoc with our plumbing, and my husband's injured back combined with the temporarily tight quarters in the shed made me the chief plumber--a job I would gladly relinquish, although now it seems I'm a pro.

Long story short, we had to replace a lot of shattered PVC pipe, only to discover that our check valve had a split in it, and when we replaced that, we somehow did not get a good connection between the metal elbow and the plastic-type pipe that goes into the ground, allowing air to get into the line between the check valve and the submersible pump. The effect of this was that when the pressure tank got empty (i.e. no water to the house) and the pump kicked on, it took 3 to 5 minutes for the pump to refill the pipe between the well and the pressure tank. This wouldn't normally be a big deal, unless you happened to be brushing your teeth and had to stand there with a mouthful of minty toothpaste for several minutes; had just lathered your hair and had to stand in the shower all soapy and unable to see for several minutes; or had just gotten your hands really yucky dirty and the last cup of water in the tank was not enough to cleanse them, and you had stand there for several minutes contemplating hiring someone else to clean up any unfortunate accidents (where ARE Thing One and Thing Two when you really need them?)

I kept thinking I just needed a clamp that would fit tighter around the pipe. But the tighter I clamped the pipe, the bigger the leak got. In frustration, I loosened the clamps to the point of the least leak and gave up, at least temporarily, realizing this was actually a livable circumstance and hoping for inspiration in the meantime.

I was sitting in church today and I realized there was a lesson in this. (Sorry, Gordon, I can't even recall what you said that sparked this realization!) My motivation and my attitude about my recent water crisis was "Fix it!" And I tackled each new challenge with an "I can fix this!" mentality. And frankly, I think that's pretty much how I approach problems. I put my head down and boar into it. Once I know what I am supposed to do and have a plan in place, my stress level goes down immensely. I don't deal well with situations that I have no concept how to fix. My mind goes round and round and round until I at least have a plan, or have a plan to talk to someone who might help me make a plan. I'm not good at waiting....

I was trying to verbalize this to G on the way home from church today and he said, referring to Mark McCoy's recent sermon, "Oh, you mean you have trouble letting go?" Mark's sermon was about a man who was trying to get to this really interesting person of light, but the shadow in him kept pulling him back. Every time he would try to approach this interesting person, his shadow fought him. Finally, the person of light said to him "Let go," and he realized it was not the shadow that was holding onto him, but he who was holding onto the shadow.

I would like you to know that in the intervening weeks when I have been pondering my water problem and "letting it go" so to speak, it has improved itself. I don't know if this is "divine intervention" or if loosening the clamps allowed the joint to vibrate into a more optimal angle, if our well has suddenly become semi-artesian, creating enough upward pressure to counteract the air leak, if slugs have crawled into the gap and sealed it for us, or ????. But now the wait is 3 to 10 seconds for the water to come back on, and that is almost unnoticeable.

I'm not saying that we need to let go of all our problems. There is a time to attack them. But there is also a time to let go...and wait. The challenge is knowing the difference!

Just Like Me

So, it's probably no secret that the boy's feet are almost as big as mine now. In fact, I gave him a pair of my sneakers for basketball until we could afford to buy him his own pair (which we did this week). Read on and you will see why this is significant...if I haven't already given away the ending...

So, after lunch yesterday, the boy was bouncing off the walls and both G and I, noting a break in the heavy rain, said to him "Go outside and RUN!" which, of course, he was happy to do. Fast forward a few minutes. I am putting lunch away and G is looking out the front window, watching K frolicking in our long, gravel driveway.

G says to me, "He really loves to play in the mud puddles."
"Well, he gets that from me."
"Really!"
So for quite a few minutes I regale G with stories of my childhood, ending with "Even in 9th grade, during track practice, when we would all go for street runs, we would jump in puddles and see who could get the others the wettest."
"So you don't mind that he's wearing YOUR shoes to do it?"
"No!" I thought he was pulling my leg.
"Yup. His shoes are right there."
"I don't believe you."
"Look for yourself." So I did. And there sat G on the couch laughing hysterically, as I leaned out the front door, having seen my ONLY good pair of shoes missing from the pile by the door, and threaten the boy, "Those had better not be my GOOD shoes you are getting sopping wet in those mud puddles!!"....and the rather contrite boy ran in from the driveway..."Sorry, Mommy. Are you mad at me?"