Learning
Growth
Unity
When It’s Saturday
Here’s a word for your toolbox that might be unfamiliar for some: Liminal. I’ll explain it in just a bit.
Last weekend, Claudia and I joined so many others walking the familiar paths from Good Friday through Easter Sunday.
Death by a Thousand Cuts: Enduring in the Midst of Suffering
In 2019, pop megastar Taylor Swift co-wrote a song entitled, “Death by a Thousand Cuts”. It’s typical Taylor fare I’m told: the slow breakup of a relationship by increments and incidents. Thus Death by a Thousand Cuts. Taylor’s lyrics talk of drinking to ease the pain. Of reminders in everyday life of a relationship that no longer exists.
It’s Friday, but Sunday’s Comin’
It’s Good Friday. The day marking the greatest crime ever committed against God and humanity. Planned in detail from eternity past before creation. Authorized by God the Father to bring his Son authority and reign as King of kings over all creation. Agreed to voluntarily by God the Son to bring his Father glory and honor. Empowered by God the Holy Spirit in service to the Father and Son. Such love. Such trust. Such selflessness.
Abandoning Absurdity
The Young Life camp, less than 2 hours drive from Bend at the Washington Family Ranch, is a truly amazing place. The historic Big Muddy ranch sits SE of Antelope and up against 13 miles of the John Day River. It straddles two counties, has countless mountains and ravines and hosts all the big game a 64K acre spread might hope to have (that’s 100 square miles!).
What’s Your Identity?
Once upon a time, I was a young mom to toddling crumb crunchers. I’m still a mom, but my adult children have quit leaving crumbs … well, for the most part.
Once upon a time, I was activities director and cheerleading coach…
Hate Her, Love Her
There is more time to reflect these days. The unsavory contents of the story do not change. From the advantage of six decades, self-hatred and loathing still briefly flash. She snickers to herself as she remembers how grand it would be to have the body she had back when she thought she was fat. Oh, the misery of trying to be something so far beyond her grasp.
Forgiven. Forgive?
As I grow older and accumulate an ever-increasing number of social interactions, the more I tend to think about forgiveness. It’s a simple math problem where every day I gain more time to mess up and others enjoy more opportunities to offend me.
Vulnerable in Ways that Are Scary
There is an astonishing story of vulnerability featuring Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane. He and his twelve apprentices had just shared their last supper together. Jesus needed a secluded place to pray. And he needed his friends to be with him.
How to Make Pancakes
A while ago Lois had to be gone, so she left me instructions on making breakfast for the kids. I was to get the package of pancake mix from the pantry, add water, mix, and cook on the griddle. After a few mistakes, I was able to serve a platter of hotcakes to my happy children.
Wakes We Leave
Some years ago I led a funeral service for a good man.
Born and raised in a small midwestern town, he left college to serve during WW2 and after the war he followed a similar path taken by millions of others: He finished school, married, had two children and continued in a worthy direction.
What I Really Want to Say
Elaine stepped out of her life and into eternity. Carl, left behind by no fault of his own, was relocated to memory care just eight miles from the home he built with his own hands forty years ago. A plan was in place for Carl and Elaine.
Navigating Whitewater
Talking with folks these days often feels like I’m navigating whitewater.
I have a few friends who spend as much time as they can on rivers. Ideally they travel for days at a time, camping along the way. The adventure and isolation and occasional dangerous stretches draw them back time and again.
Shame on Jesus
Have you ever felt ashamed? Of course you have. Maybe, despite your best attempts to stifle the memory, your most embarrassing moments stalk you like a long shadow. I still cringe when I think about even my most innocent embarrassments. Get behind me, middle school!
After the Storms and Anvil
Here we are already in the third week of Lent, that 40 day journey from Ash Wednesday to Easter Sunday. These are days to consider our lives, to slow our roll long enough to wonder how it all fits together and ponder if we are traveling on a worthy path or are corrections called for.
Juniper, Juniper
There had already been whispering among them. Saddened by the passing of their lady, the lovely one that hung chimes and feeders on them, and they wondered what would become of the friendly man. No indication could be detected as they do not use words like you and me. They speak through the ground on an as-needed basis – passing news of invasion or threats. In this case, they were observing the comings and goings of the house people.
Why Cultivate Gratitude?
My daughter gifted me with an Ann Voskamp book, titled One Thousand Gifts, for Mother’s Day in the year her father was dying of cancer. Ann’s poetic style was a little challenging to read at first. But I kept on. And I saw through to her heart.
Entering the Foundry
Not long ago I was challenged to quit asking people I just met, “So, what do you do?”
This good friend shared his opinion that the question is bland and lazy, along with a quick way to slot the person into a social category of my making. So, “I’m a doctor” is one level where, “I clean houses” is quite another. Assumptions, most often false, follow like ducks in flight.
Raising Children to Have a Relationship with God
My mom came to stay with us for a few days when we brought our firstborn home from the hospital. We named her Summer. The day my mom left and my husband returned to work, I found myself home alone with a newborn. I felt so overwhelmed and unprepared. And so I did what other first-time moms might do in this same situation. I cried.
Stories and Storms
Every family has a story.
I was talking recently with a friend whose family is going through dang rough times. It seems that everywhere they turn another obstacle to a clear path rises up. They are bone tired and discouraged. Words like heartbroken and almost hopeless sprinkled their conversation.
Could You Be a Refresher?
Sitting here in the comfort of a warm house, sipping hot tea, and watching the snow paint the fence posts all gorgeous white, I’m remembering a favorite trail that ascends to Broken Top in the Cascade Range.
On the return route, there was this stream. We lost no time in removing our hot, dusty boots. And I clearly recall the refreshing of the cold mountain brook as we soaked our tired feet.