November 5, 2008

  • Accepted, Flaws and All

    (I’ve been primarily posting at my other site. Megan asked me to post this one here too. At her request, . . . .)

    Yes, it is Tuesday and that means it’s book day at Lelia’s.
    First, though, I must apologize for wigging out on it last week.
    Honestly, I read it but didn’t have time to do much more than come
    home, feed the cats, go to my second job, sleep, and do it all over
    again the next day. That’s my excuse, but I’ve got time tonight.

    Flaws.
    I’ve got them. I’m heavier than I would like to be. I struggle with
    depression. I can be snappish and mean at times. I get caught up in
    everything going on with me. You get the picture. There are a few
    things that might make me seem a bit unloveable and definitely
    unacceptable.

    Lisa writes, “The
    depth of God’s love for us is hard to comprehend. So are the height,
    the width, and the breadth of His love. our human minds will not allow
    us to process the greatness of the love of our Father because we are
    programmed by the world’s view of love, which has great limitations.” Limitations.
    Isn’t that the truth? The world says, “I’ll love you if . . . .” God
    says, “I’ll love you in spite of . . . . I’ll love you when you shine
    and I’ll love you when you’re down. I’ll love you all the way around
    the world, to the moon and back again. I cannot love you less.”

    The
    truly amazing thing about God’s love is that He does love in spite of.
    He knows all of my flaws and failures. J. I. Packer writes in Knowing God:

    .
    . . There is tremendous relief in knowing that His to me is utterly
    realistic, based at every point on a prior knowledge of the worst about
    me, so that no discovery now can disillusion him about me, in the way I
    am so often disillusioned about myself, and quench His determination to
    bless me.

    God’s love is utterly realistic. Because of that, I can find great comfort. God loves me in spite of knowing the worst about me.

    But He also is always inviting me to grow.

    The
    hard part, I think, is that in knowing this fact, God also expects me
    to try to love others in the same way. This is a growth point for me.
    Can I love you if you snub me? Can I love you when you hurt my
    feelings? Can I love you when you let me down?

    Asking those
    questions are convicting. It makes me think of a couple of people at
    church I’ve kind of written off because I felt like the friendship was
    more important to me than to them. And they let me down one to many
    times. But maybe God is calling me to go back and love them, accept
    them, flaws and all.

    And it that, I may pass on hope.

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July 23, 2008

  • When You Give Someone A Cookie

    The other night I was reading Lisa Whittle’s post. She always
    makes me think. It was about how one of her dear friends didn’t like
    her initially. Ouch. But this woman decided to pray for her. Now, she
    is one of those friends that Lisa can call any time.

    I had taped a show Friday night called Flashpoint.
    It’s a new cop type show. Given that everything else is reruns, I
    decided to tape it. I finally got around to watching it. Here’s the
    storyline. A man gets the page
    letting him know that he should rush his daughter to the hospital for a
    heart transplant. They get there and settled in only to find out that
    there was a mix up and the heart is going to someone else. The dad has
    been up for three days straight in a vigil over his dying daughter. The
    stress breaks him. He grabs a security guy’s gun and takes hostages.

    Of
    course, that is when they call in the team. I haven’t watched it enough
    to know the names of everyone yet. But “Head Guy” goes in to negotiate
    with him. Others are watching him on the monitor. The dad wants the TV
    turned back on for his daughter. Rule #1, never give a hostage taker
    anything without getting something in return. So, Head Guy asks dad to
    ask each person if they are okay. He does this but skips the man on
    gurney who is slated to get the heart. Head Guy says, “What about him?
    Is he okay?” He encourages dad to ask him.

    The rest of the team
    who are watching debrief this for us. It turns out that one of the
    tactics is to make the hostage into a person. By having dad ask the
    hostage if he is okay, the hostage begins to become a person rather
    than a means to an end.

    Lisa’s post fit right in with this. It
    made me think of work. One woman works in another office. One day when
    I was still very new, she came in the back door, walked to my desk, and
    demanded that I look something up for her. I was in the process of
    leaving and I was use to people going to the counter. I got really
    flustered and was offended by her tone. I managed to find what she
    needed but decided that I didn’t like her at all. After she left, they
    explained who she was and all, but it didn’t help me liking her.

    A
    couple months ago I made my famous chocolate chip cookies. (I’m
    probably overly proud of them.) I took some to the office. As I was
    taking a short break, God prompted me to put three on a little plate
    and take them down to this woman. From that time forward, every time I
    walk by she waves. If she comes into the office, she stops to talk to
    me. When you give someone a cookie or a prayer or a smile, sometimes
    you forge a connection because you have made them human.

    I’ve probably used this C.S. Lewis quote before, but I think it sums things up so nicely that I’ll use it again.

    It
    is a serious thing to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting
    person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now,
    you would be strongly tempted to worship or else a horror and a
    corruption such as you meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day
    long, we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or the other of
    these destinations. It is in the light of those overwhelming
    possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to
    them, that we should conduct all our dealing with one another, all
    friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary
    people.

    When we remember another’s humanness, we
    treat them with more humanity. When we remember that they may have
    things going on in their lives that we know nothing about, we can
    respond with mercy and kindness. When we treat them with respect even
    when we might not feel respected, we give them dignity. When we offer
    kindness, we never know what doors God will open up.

July 17, 2008

  • Regular Programming Interrupted

    If I could list the top things people across the board would say about me, they would be reliable, responsible, dependable. A bit of theme, huh? Viewers in the area have recently seen this message flash across the screen of my life: Regular programing interrupted due to major and recurrent power outages. Please check back later.

    Sunday I turned my phone off for church. Monday night I realized I hadn’t flipped it back on. So, I check my messages. There were three messages from Barnes & Noble. They went like this:

    1. Amy, this is Ryan. We had you scheduled for tonight. Just checking to see if you were on your way in.
    2. Amy, this is Ryan. We haven’t heard from you. You were suppose to work tonight. Wondering if you are okay.
    3. Amy, this is Todd. We had you scheduled to work yesterday and it’s not like you to miss. Please give us a call to let us know you are okay.

    Work. What? Utter panic and shame.

    So, yes, I was suppose to work Sunday night. Apparently, I skipped that when I wrote down my schedule. I typically work one evening during the week and Saturday night. That is not an excuse. I messed up.

    Unfortunately, my brain seems to be having major and recurrent power outages. I recently had to see my doctor about something. I had seen her a week or so before and this was a follow up. I was convinced that she had given me a prescription. I had jotted myself notes but I couldn’t find a prescription where I usually stow those things and it wasn’t in the notes I had jotted. But I was embarrassed to think I had lost it, so I didn’t call the office. I hunted and waited and hunted and waited.

    At my last visit, I had to fess up as I was sure she would ask me about it. I had it wrong. All that hunting was for naught. We had discussed the possibility of a prescription depending on how things had gone. Uggh.

    And then there was that time a few weeks ago. My friend Jill’s two sons were putting on a concert. I got invited and Jill said, “Why don’t you just come for dinner right before too.” I should have been there just after 6:00. At 7:15 Jill calls wondering where I’m at. It took a few moments for it all to register and come back. But I made it to the concert and ate S’mores afterwards with them. Chocolate is good for those kinds of things.

    Last night, I had to go back into B&N for the first time since missing. I REALLY dreaded it. We are talking major anxiety. So, I had returned Todd’s call on Monday night and apologized, but I was still nervous.

    When I make a mistake — and even when I don’t make a mistake — I tend to over apologize. I prayed about it and decided the best thing was to face it head on but determined to not go on and on about it in my usual style. The first person I saw was Ryan. “Ryan, I am so sorry. I totally missed it on the schedule. I had my phone turned off. I’m really sorry. I know there isn’t a lot of padding in the scheduling.” He was very kind and reiterated that they were concerned because I was so responsible.

    The next person I saw was Mary, our general manager. Again, I apologized twice and totally owned it. She said that it happens to everyone once or twice, not to make a habit of it, and that they were concerned.

    My brain just seems to be all over the place the last few weeks. Please pray for a return to the normal programming. I much prefer it. In lieu of that, I’m writing everything down and triple checking it.





    PS. Taking a break from the blog the last day or so was not part of the power outage. It was more of a conviction of how much time I let blog hopping and blogging consume. I love the relationships, the information, and the encouragement. But it was a reality check of sorts for me. It was good to spend a little extra time with God and a few other things. I think I have a bit more perspective on it. But, I am dying to hop all over and say, “Hi’ and see what you are up to. So, hopefully, I will be visiting you soon!

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July 14, 2008

  • A Child in Rwanda

    Heads up. This is not my typical post. It tells about my other Compassion child in Rwanda, but also deals a bit with the Rwandan Genocide in 1994. I hope you’ll still read, but it is just very different from my other posts.


    As I write, the things I sent for Delia and her family are in Ecuador. My friend left yesterday on her trip. I’m praying that everything went well.


    But I wanted to introduce you to the other little girl I sponsor. I recently received an updated photo. I think she looks taller in this picture than the last.





    Kayirangwa is 9 and she lives in Rwanda. Rwanda is a small country in Africa. How, you might ask, did I get from sponsoring a child in Ecuador to sponsoring one in Rwanda?

    Several years ago, I read a book called The Good News About Injustice: A Witness of Courage in a Hurting World by Gary A. Haugen. Gary is the president of International Justice Mission. It is an organization that works with victims of slavery, exploitation, and violent oppression. No, this is not light reading. But it is important reading!

    I think I was gripped with the opening paragraph. He talks about making his typical commute one morning in 1994 and having the thought of saying to his fellow travelers, “Excuse me, friends, but did you know that less than forty-eight hours ago I was standing in the middle of several thousand corpses in a muddy mass grave in a tiny African country called Rwanda?”

    What? 1994? I remember thinking that those things just didn’t happen any more. I had consigned them to the Holocaust and World War II.

    But they do happen, like most things of that nature, for little or no reason (or rather exaggerated reason). The Rwandan genocide was between the Tutsi and Hutu people of Rwanda. The Hutu militia and every day civilians killed their neighbors — anyone of Tutsi descent or anyone perceived as sympathetic to the Tutsi. Most estimates of the death toll are 800,000 to the 1,000,000 mark. Supposedly, it was fueled by the belief that the Tutsi and Hutu are very different and with one being superior. Sigh. In reality, there is very little genetic difference. All of that death took place in 100 days.

    Perhaps one of the saddest aspects is that the world looked on and did very little to stop the escalating violence. President Clinton apologized during his term. But it makes me wonder if it wasn’t a bit like World War II. There were rumors of concentration camps but we didn’t step in until attacked.

    I was surprised by the book and my own ignorance of the situation. I do well to keep up on local news. Global news is hard to grasp. Still, I think I should do better.

    Delia caught my heart because of language (I cannot speak it but I took Spanish in high school and college) and the relative closeness of Ecuador. Kayirnagwa caught my heart because of reading that book and that sadness that anything like that could happen so recently. It was only 14 years ago. At 9 she wouldn’t have been born yet, but I am sure her parents were. What an awful thing to have lived through. What a difficult thing to heal from — whatever side you were on.

    I came across a 2007 newsletter from Compassion about Rwanda. It shares the story of Emmanuel. His mother had survived the devastation but had hardened her heart. How could God care if all of those things had happened? But Emmanuel was enrolled in Compassion and became a Christian. Each morning he knelt to pray. Still, his mother wasn’t interested.

    In 2006 there was a drought. His mother wanted to flee the country in search of relief. Emmanuel told her not to, that his Compassion center was providing rations to families affected by the famine. At first she didn’t believe him, but he convinced her to go and see. The workers loaded her with rice and water. As a result of Emmanuel’s witness and Compassion’s practical intervention, his mother became a Christian.

    That is how I got from the United States and Ecuador to Rwanda. I know that Kayirangwa likes to jump rope and play games and that she has chores. I do not know how she or her family might have been impacted by what happened. But still, I hope, that in some small way my giving to her gives her hope and healing for her family and the tiniest bit of healing for her country. I am thankful that I know a God who can multiply what I give and what Emmanuel’s sponsor gave a million times over.

    Now, if any of you know of anyone going to Rwanda, I’d love to be able to send Kayirangwa something like I did for Delia!








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July 13, 2008

  • Coming Back Around

    My church has just purchased a new facility (new to us that is). Actually, we’ve purchased more than that. We’ve purchased a piece of history. Parts of the building are 97 years old. A church has been meeting there all of those years. Those are prayer soaked, worship filled walls.

    Today, we had a first/last service with the members of the congregation we are purchasing it from. They called it a “baton” handing service. It was a bit of an emotional service as they said goodbye to a place filled with memories, hopes, and dreams and we said hello to a new area of ministry. They prayed many years ago for the parking lot to overflow. Today it did. We were forewarned that we would be parking on the street and walking. (It was a lovely day for a short walk.) I know that it looked differently than they anticipated, so that makes it bittersweet.

    It will be different for us — going from a mutlipurpose warehouse with 2 bathrooms (yes, lots of standing in line) to a bigger building with 27 bathrooms, a balcony, lots of beautiful old wood, a wing of classrooms for the kids, . . . The biggest change will probably be being in a neighborhood instead of off the highway going out of town. There are lots of ministry opportunities there.

    It was a bit of coming around for me. My parents were not overly religious but we belonged to a United Methodist Church. I was baptized as an infant. While I don’t know that my parents were faithful to the promises made that day, I do know that God was. We went on Christmas and Easter and a few other times. The Sunday they were giving third graders Bibles, we “happened” to go. I remember it distinctly as it was the first time I had held a Bible. And since I loved reading, it seemed like a challenge — a book that had to be read.

    Several years later, we were told we needed to go to confirmation class. My parents took my twin and I and dropped us off. Over a couple of weeks, we found we enjoyed the nursery and soon we were going to youth group as well. One night after a Sunday school lesson earlier that day had talked about giving your life to Christ, I prayed and did just that.

    While I’ve gong to various denominations since, I guess my roots are United Methodist. While we are not a United Methodist congregation, it is interesting to find myself back in a building with those roots as well.

    We officially have the keys, but won’t have a grand reopening until September. There is lots of work to be done until then.

    I’m thankful for all the faithful people who have been in that building before us. As that old Steve Green song says, “May all who come behind us find us faithful.”






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July 9, 2008

  • The Parable of the Sturdy Pillar

    Once there was a big beautiful palace. In the center of that palace was an ornate room of the kind you only find in fairy tales. In the middle of that room was a large and very sturdy pillar. It was beautiful pillar, but it it was just a pillar. And as with some stable things in our lives, it was sometimes taken for granted.

    One day, the king looked at the pillar and called for the carpenter. “Here now, I think I need a bit more room in here. Be a good chap and shave a bit off the right side of that pillar.” So, that is what the carpenter did. He painted it all up and no one ever knew the difference. They barely noticed the slight wobble in the floor above.

    Many years later, the queen was planning a ball. She wanted plenty of room for dancing. She called for the carpenter. “I need more room. Please take a bit off the left side of that pillar.”So that is what the carpenter did. He painted it all up and no one ever knew the difference.

    Several years later, the prince was having a fencing tournament. He thought he needed more room. So, he gave a royal command to the carpenter to take just a bit more off that pillar. So, that is what the carpenter did. He painted it all up and no one ever knew the difference. Though, when the wind blew off the ocean in just the right way and one was on the floor above, some thought they could feel the floor shake just a bit. But everyone knew this was nonsense because it was a well built palace and had a nice sturdy pillar in the middle of the room below.

    As you might have guessed, there was also a princess. She was getting married. So, of course, she wanted her wedding in that very special room with that pillar. But there were so many guests that there wasn’t quite enough room for all the chairs. She looked at that pillar and called for the carpenter. “The wedding is only a few days away. Quick now, I need more room. Take some off the pillar.” So, though he thought better of it, that is what the carpenter did. But he was beginning to wonder how much more he could take off that pillar and still call it a pillar.

    The night of the wedding all the quests were assembled. The bride and groom exchanged vows. So that everyone in the kingdom would know the wedding had taken place, the king commanded that 100 drums and 100 trumpets ring out. So, at just the right moment just before the kiss, the king gave the signal and the drums and trumpets rang out. They were so loud the whole room, the whole palace reverberated.

    With a sudden crash, the ceiling gave way. The guests below just barely escaped. And the king called for his carpenter in a fury. He asked, “How could you let this happen? I thought this was a solidly built palace and with a sturdy pillar at the center!”

    The carpenter stood tall. “I only obeyed royal orders, sire. But it seems that every few years someone commands that I take just a bit more off that pillar. But no one ever stopped and asked or gave a thought as to what that pillar might be holding up!”

    The moral of the story: Before you move a pillar or shave anything off, be sure you know why it was put there and what it might be holding up. If you are careless and whittle a pillar away, you may find yourself scrambling when the ceiling gives way.

    There are, of course, many pillars in our lives: diet, exercise, learning, and such. But more importantly, are the spiritual pillars like time with God, prayer, and meeting with other believers. But just like the royal family, we whittle away our pillars. We get up too late for a quiet time. When a friend asks for a prayer, we promise to do it later but other things crowd it out of our mind. Sometimes we think, “Sunday is a day of rest, so I’ll just stay here a bit longer. God wake me up if you want me to go to church.” Or we may think that listening to Christian music is enough to turn our minds to God and things above.

    But God is our pillar. When we let things whittle away the spiritual pillars of our lives, we shave away important pieces of our life with Him.

    Be careful not to move a pillar without finding out exactly what it is holding up or you know exactly what you are giving up! Thus ends the parable of the sturdy pillar.




    Disclaimer: Can’t say that I’ve ever tried to write a parable before, but the thought stuck with me and I thought I would try it out on all of you!


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July 8, 2008

  • A Measure of Self-Control — Hope Chronicles 55

    Okay, I know I probably shouldn’t use “self-control” in the title because it will scare some of you off. But if you can get past the word, please read on!



    Mali is one of my cats. I got her as a six month old kitten. She had been a stray before turning up at the local Humane Society. We have routinely gone round and round in food battles. (Click here for more info on those.) She has been incorrigible and bold enough to try and steal from my plate. (No she is not allowed on the table, but if it involves food she will try anything.) If I do happen to give the cats a morsel of people food, Katy will sniff it trying to decide if it is edible. Before you know it, Mali has snagged it.



    Katy does like cat treats though. So, I give them to both Katy and Mali and physically keep Mali from snagging all of the treats. Both cats scamper to me when they hear the lid to the cat treats come off.



    I’m daring to hope that Mali has gained some measure of self-control, that it has sunk into her heart that she will always get fed. The other night, I opened the treat jar. Katy came right away. Mali lounged on the back of the couch. I rattled the jar. She still wasn’t interested.



    Last night I dared to brown some taco meat and eat without putting Mali in the other room. She wound around my legs and I admit to keeping a watchful eye. Amazingly, she didn’t pop onto the counter or the table! I think my little monster has learned a measure of self-control. (For those of you for whom this raises concern, her other behaviors has been normal and she has eaten normal amounts last night and today.)



    Needless to say, this has gotten me thinking about self-control in my own life. Can someone look and see or hear the difference in my life.



    I think our thoughts have a good deal to do with self-control in any area. For example, two areas I need self-control over are eating and exercise. I find that I do well for awhile and then I fall into the trap of “I’ve done so well for this amount of time, indulging now won’t hurt.” That must be twisted thinking to reward yourself in the behavior that you have been working on.

    I used my concordance to look up self-control in the Bible. I was particularly challenged by these verses in 1 Peter 1:13-15:

    Therefore, prepare your minds for action; be self-controlled; set your hope fully on the grace to be given you when Jesus Christ is revealed. As obedient children, do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance. But just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do; for it is written: “Be holy, because I am holy.”


    Too often I think of self-control just as a refraining from something — like the M&Ms in the snack machine. Really, it is much more proactive than that: prepare your minds, be self-controlled, set your hope. Planning what I am going to have instead of the M&Ms or more than one meal in advance or when I will exercise is really the heart of self-control. If I just refrain, I’ll feel deprived. If I fix my eyes on something more — on Jesus — even when it comes to exercise and eating and harsh words, I will have filled that “hole” with something far more fulfilling.

    What do you do to enact a measure of self-control in your life?

July 4, 2008

  • Declaration of Dependence — Hope Chronicles 53

    It is one of the most famous documents in American history — the Declaration of Independence. It was approved by the original 13 colonies on July 4, 1776. At 232 years of age, the United States of America is still in it’s adolescence when compared to countries like China, England, Russia, . . . .

    I’ve never known anyone who can recite the whole thing. However, most people are taught or at least recognize this bit of it:

    We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.


    It was a noble venture into founding a country. But even though our money clearly states, “In God we trust,” at this point in our history the question is, “In which god do we trust?” Yes, we needed to declare our independence from England, but sometimes I wonder if we wouldn’t have been better served declaring our dependence on God.

    Here is my attempt at a Declaration of Dependence.

    We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all people are created in the image of God. It is within their nature to crave, even unknowingly, a return to a right relationship with their creator and Lord.

    Where upon sin entered the world, people are unable to attain their hearts’ desire. No amount of work, intelligence, or trying can bring them back into a right relationship with God.

    We hold this truth to be most wondrous, that God chose to became a man. He came and walked this earth, felt the sting of hunger, the cold of night, the joy of the sunrise, the hug of mother, the betrayal of a friend.

    We hold this truth to be most magnificent, that “God so loved the world that He gave His one and only son that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16) This love is for the world yet totally and inexplicably personal. Salvation was accomplished through Jesus death on the cross to pay for our sin.

    We hold this truth most humbling, that the God — who created the world and has the right to command anything He chooses from His creation — gives us a choice to choose or reject him.

    We recognize the fact that every breath, every heartbeat, and everything about our being is solely dependent on He who gave us life. We declare our utter dependence on the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

    We stand in awe of his majesty and eagerly await His return.

    This is hope — utter dependence on God.



    If you want to “sign” this Declaration of Dependence, leave a comment below.




  • Old Letter



    In my search for Ecuador (see yesterday’s post), I unearthed some other treasures. One was a letter from my Grandma Brooke. Her given name was Clara Louise, but she always went by Louise. Though, my grandpa called her “Weezy.” I am fortunate to have been named for her with my middle name being Louise.

    Above is the back of the last letter I received from her. It was dated 4/29/1996. While the front is a bit about this or that cousin, the back is the piece I will cherish and stung my eyes with tears.

    Seems as tho you are a busy girl. I feel like you are busy about all the time. I think of our days on the farm when you came down to visit. They were happy days for me & I am glad I have them to remember. Well I better close so I can mail this. Hard to tell where you will be but you’ll get it someday. ha ha I think Amy is our Traveling Girl.

    Well love to you
    Think of you a lot
    Love G-ma Brooke

    In the midst of an abusive family situation, my dear grandmother was an oasis. We went to visit once or twice a month. At ten the abuse had escalated and I was sad and lonely and very, very quiet. You could barely get “Boo” out of me.

    One day, I discovered that if I got up early and sat in the green chair outside her bedroom, she would look up and see me and get up. Together we would go into the kitchen. She would mix up a coffee cake and I would talk. It was as if all the words so carefully walled up in me just spilled out. While I never mentioned the abuse, she heard all of my childish dreams. I read quotes from books I was reading. I recited a poem. I told her about how Mrs. Richardson let us act out our fourth grade Ohio history lessons. I told her I liked Mrs. Richardson the best of all my teachers cause she reminded me of her.

    For 15 or 20 minutes on those mornings, I had her undivided attention. It was a raft in a wild sea. Too soon I would hear my sisters’ footsteps on the stairs and I would have to share my grandma.

    Never underestimate the power of a few minutes undivided attention in the life of a child. It kept me afloat.

    Yes, grandma, I remember those days too. You loved me well and I am a better person for it.

    Lots of love,

    Amy

June 29, 2008

  • Moutaintops in Perspective –Hope Chronicles 50

    The last few weeks, my She Speaks prep has consumed my time and energy. As I write that, I am struck by the thought, “When have you let God consume so much of your time and energy?” Hopefully, it was for God’s glory, but so much time an energy went into the book proposal and the talks and the packing and the fretting over being liked or not liked while I was there, . . . . Now, I am post She Speaks by four days.

    In my InterVarsity Christian Fellowship days, I often found there to be an immediate slump after big events. I would be tired and grouchy and irritable. While I admit, I’m starting to have a bit of a slump (I’m a bit on the touchy side today), there was none of the immediate, overwhelming deflation that I have previously encountered. I’m not sure why that is and it isn’t that God didn’t meet me in those earlier events. I believe He did.

    But I experienced something profound this past weekend — God utterly delighting over me. I know He probably always has, but still it was so sweet . . . . Part of me didn’t want the conference to end. I half thought moving to NC might not be so bad or maybe I could join some of my bloggy friends in their neck of the woods. But then I would miss my friends and church here.

    She Speaks was a mountaintop experience. But I have learned that most of us do not live on “mountaintops.” While those times are refreshing and wonderful, most of us are called to live out our walk in the daily things of life: mowing the grass, interacting with coworkers, doing the laundry, making dinner, running errands, . . . . These things may make us say, “Can’t the mountaintop experience go on forever?”

    Scripture tells us that Moses met with God as a man meets with a friend. Yet, even Moses had to come down from the mountaintop and he was greeted with God’s Chosen People dancing around an idol and grumbling about how much better life back in Egypt was. (They were a thankless lot!)

    And then there is Elijah. 1 Kings 18 and 19 Elijah sees God work in mighty ways. But he freaks when the king’s wife takes a bounty out on his head. (Okay, I might have been worried too.) He flees and God eventually leads Him to a cave on a mountain. He actually whines (in my opinion) to God. My version: “I’ve done all this for you and they’ve killed all these people and I am the only one left. Did you hear me? Now they are going to kill me!”

    God does not get into a test of wills with Elijah. Rather, God tells him to “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” There is a great wind that shattered rocks, an earthquake, and a fire. But God is not in any of these. But then there is a gentle whisper and Elijah stands at the mouth of the cave and God gives him a glimpse of Himself.

    And God asks again, “Elijah, what are you doing here?”

    Elijah repeats the litany.

    God responds, “Go back the way you came.” (Get back to day to day life). He goes on to promise that he is sending Elijah a partner and that Elijah is not alone — there are 7,000 who still worship God.

    So, post She Speaks means getting back to day to day life.

    But it also means remembering all that God did there. Just as God reminded Elijah of the 7,000, I am praying He will continue to remind me of all that I learned and experienced and the fellowship I experienced. I’ve been making a list. It’s now 5 journal pages with bullets to help remind me when things get tough.

    Like Moses and Elijah, most of us are not meant to live on mountaintops. But we are called to remember them. And through remembering them we can be strengthened in the day to day life and even in the valleys. It is in remembering that we often find that glorious thing called hope.

    If you went to She Speaks or even if you didn’t, what is one strengthening memory you have? Please leave it here in the comment section or a link to the story on your site. I look forward to hearing how God uses the mountaintops to prepare you for day to day life.