Month: January 2008

  • Cats, God’s Work, and Pure Hope – Hope Chronicles 9

    I have always thought of myself as a dog person. But a couple of years ago, I had a dog. I absolutely loved her. But after six months, it became clear that it wasn’t working out. She – seriously – had anxiety. The vet even put her on anxiety medication! It manifested itself whenever I would leave. She clearly needed to be with someone who was home more.
     
    I was distraught over having to give her up. (I still tear up if I think on it too much, but it part of this tale.) I had gotten her at the Humane Society and had talked to them weekly since getting her. They promised they could find her a home and suggested a cat. Why would I want some aloof cat? They loaned me one (something they don’t usually do) for the weekend. Two years later I have two cats that think they are dogs. They literally greet me at the door and follow me from room to room. Even though I have a huge bed, they pretty much sleep next to me or on top of me!

     
    I brought the kitten (right) home the day before Thanksgiving. I thought and thought about what to name her. I came up with Amalia (A-ma-leah) but Mali (Ma -lee) for short. Why the name? I actually knew someone once with the name. I liked it. But more than that, I liked the potential for the meaning. I got on the computer and searched name sites. I put in “hope” and came up with things like Esperanza. I suppose I could have called her Essie for short, but my eyes alighted on the Arabic word “amal” which means, of course, hope.
    Since I am focused on hope, why not use it as a name for my kitten as well.

     
    Mali was a stray before she turned up at the Humane Society at 4 months. I got her at 6 months and have had her for a month and a half. While she is very loving, she still acts like a stray when it comes to food. She will hop up on the table (though she isn’t allowed) and steal something off your plate. Oh, she is a bit sly about it. She waits for just the right moment. Once she has it, it is hers!

     
    I first witnessed this when I had a pizza crust in the garbage waiting to go out to the garage. I was watching TV. I heard this fierce growl. Mali was crouched with the crust (wider than her head) in her mouth. My other cat, Katy, was nearby. This was the reason for the growl. Since then she has snatched and ran with margarine wrappers, a piece of bread, and a piece of lettuce. While I didn’t want her digesting the wrapper, so obviously, I had to get that from her. I also retrieved the bread and lettuce at personal risk (her claws are sharp and her growl is fierce). While these might not have harmed her, I didn’t want her thinking that she could do that, reinforcing her by letting her keep her prize.

     
    I had thought that a month or so of consistent feeding would weaken her resolve. Actually, I think it has gotten worse! I have now lost 3 dish rags left on the sink to dry (but obviously smelling of soap and food) to the recesses of the house because she has made off with them. She is now banished to the bathroom (crying piteously) each time I cook or even eat anything.

    While I don’t approve and would love to break her of it, I must say I admire her tenacity. For someone so little to growl so fiercely at someone so much bigger than her, for her to be so single minded in her pursuit, well there is something to be said for that.

    Am I that fierce, that single minded in my pursuit of God and hope? I want to be!

    As I have said, I knew a girl once named Amalia. I thought they had told me the name meant hope. But, I couldn’t find it on-line or in any of the books I looked at. I had pretty much settled on it and decided that it was a feminized form of the word Amal. One night at the bookstore, I found a Christian naming book. Before shelving it, I looked. It was in there! But instead of just meaning “hope,” it meant “a work of God.”

    And what is hope? It is a work of God in our lives. Without Gods work in our lives, without God, we live and those who have no hope. We can be sure of hope because our hope lies in an unchanging, unfaltering, and utterly dependable God. Did you catch all of that? UNCHANGING. UNFALTERING. UTTERLY DEPENDABLE.

    Granted, it is more than we can fathom living in a world of broken people who let us down. But God is not a broken person. Oh, we break his heart sometimes, but it isn’t the same thing. Even though we are faithless, he remains faithful. Once He has us, he holds us close.


     

    J.I. Packer is a modern day theologian. In his book, KNOWING GOD, he writes:
    “What matters supremely, therefore, is not, in the last analysis, the fact that I know God, but the larger fact which underlies it — the fact that HE KNOWS ME. I am graven on the palms of His hands. I am never out of His mind . . . . He knows me as a friend, one who loves me, and there is no moment when His eye is off me, or His attention distracted from me, and no moment, therefore, when His care falters. . . . There is a tremendous relief in knowing that His love 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.”

     
    Read that a couple of times. We are graven on the palms of His hands, never out of his mind. He is never distracted by a cell phone or someone pulling out in traffic. He doesn’t waffle if He finds out something new about us because He already knows all there is about us. We can never disillusion Him. He knows the worst about me and loves me — enough to go to the cross for me. That is essence of pure hope — resting in God’s love for me.

     
    What does it look like to fully rest in that?

     
    What does it look to fiercely follow after God?

     
    What does it look like to seek him with a single minded focus?
     
    I’m not sure. What it looks like in my life may be different than what it looks like in my life, but I would love to know what it looks like for you!

    I am just beginning to figure out what it means for me. I think some of what it means for me is:

    • being faithful to read and study His word
    • keeping scripture in front of me
    • being aware of my tendency to always, first and foremost, wonder how something will impact me rather than those around me
    • choosing to serve
    • focusing on hope

    And more, but I am still figuring it out.

    At some point in our lives we realize we are helpless to save ourselves — that no amount of work on our part, no amount of trying, no amount of effort, no amount of anything will save us. It’s typically a humbling and a bit of a scary place to be. But God steps in and says, “I will make a way for you.” He offers us hope through the blood of Jesus shed on the cross. He says we can come no matter what state our lives are in. He holds out his hands . . . and dies so that we won’t have to be separated from Him forever. The Cross is the purest picture of hope that there is.

    On a side note, my other cat’s name is Katy. It comes from Katherine meaning pure. So, without realizing it I have ended up with a daily reminder of “pure hope” in Katy (pure) and Amalia (hope). That just came to mind last night!

  • Soup

    Hey all.

    I am on a journey to eat healthier this year. That means eating more fresh stuff instead of all the prepackaged stuff. Being single, that means I make food and then eat it and eat it and eat it. For example, last week on New Year’s Day, I made a casserole. I’ve eaten some every day! There are 2 more servings left. I will eat those for lunch the next two days.

    I decided to invest in a slow cooker or crock pot. I tried it out this weekend and made my first homemade soup. I got the recipe from the internet at the Weight Watcher’s site. I thought I would share it with you. It’s called Southwestern Slow Cooker Chicken & Potato Soup.

    Ingredients:

    • 3/4lb boneless, skinless chicken breast (cut up in bite size pieces)
    • 2 medium sweet potatoes (peeled and cut up in bite size pieces)
    • 1 large onion (chopped)
    • 29 oz canned diced tomatoes – salsa style with chilies drained
    • 14 1/2 oz fat free chicken broth
    • 1tsp dried oregano
    • 1/2 tsp ground cumin
    • 1 1/2 cup frozen corn — not thawed

    Mix chicken, potatoes tomatoes, broth, oregano, and cumin in a 4 qt or larger slow cooker. Cover and cook on low heat for at least 6 hours. Stir in corn and cook on high heat until chicken is no longer pink and vegetables are tender.

    It said that the servings were 1 1/4 cup each. But I found that about a half cup to 3/4 cup did the trick. If you are doing weight watchers, the serving size they said was worth 5 points. It was yummy and hearty.

    It was kind of fun. I made it yesterday but didn’t have any. I put the slow cooker back on this morning before church. I was determined to invite someone home for lunch. My friends Mark and Jill often head home after church. Mark is the pastor, so it is a work day for him. They have a tradition of Sunday afternoon naps. When I invited Jill, I assured her they could just come for lunch and then head out for their naps. They came along with 3 of their kids. I made a few grilled cheese and cut them in half. I also put carrots out as well.

    It was fun and they seemed to enjoy the lunch. Most of it is gone, but I think there is another 1-2 servings (my size) left.  The slow cooker was so easy!

    If you like soup, give it a try.

     

  • What Are You Passing On? – Hope Chronicles 8

    Why didn’t anyone tell me it was a theme week? You guys are suppose to let me in on those things!

    Do you remember those days in elementary school or at day camp that were theme days? There was “Backwards Day” or “Hat Day” or “Pajama Day” or whatever. The great dilemma was if you should participate or not. If you came wearing everything backwards and no one else did . . . . Or if you were the only person not to wear a hat . . . .

    This week has felt like a theme week. Actually, it’s just been the last few days, but it doesn’t bode well for the New Year. It has been “How rude can you be?” week. People have been down right mean with no real reason.

    Wed. night I worked at the bookstore. There is an educator discount that has to be used for classroom items. A faculty member came up and wanted to use his discount for the paper he was buying. He showed me the card. I read the back and pointed out that it wasn’t applicable for the newspaper. He told me that I was “most certainly wrong” and raised his voice and leaned forward. When I tried to show him what it said on the card, he just got more incensed. It was a 20% discount on a $1.50 paper. We are talking pennies not major dollars. His demeanor so alarmed another cashier that she fetched the management.

    Thursday I was walking to my car after work. I was crossing with the walk signal. A guy was driving buy and yelled, “Don’t jay walk you @!*% #*@!!!” I had the signal. I wasn’t even crossing his lane of traffic. I hadn’t stepped out in front of him or anything of that nature. I don’t have a clue as to what provoked him. Oh, yeah — it was like 24 degrees out. What possesses someone to roll down their window in that kind of weather and yell obscenities?

    Today was my super long day at my data entry job. I go in at 6:30 and leave at 4:30 with a half hour lunch. At 4:20 I answered the phone. The woman said, “You’re probably getting ready to close up for the day.” I said that we were closing at 4:30, but could I help her? She asked for some information. I told her I couldn’t give that to her over the phone but offered to transfer her to an office that could help her. She declined and switched topic to asking about who owned her land in 1911. I explained that the computer system only went back about 30 years and that would involve a search of the books. I also explained that I really needed the parcel number. She pressed. I told her I would like to help her but that there wasn’t quick access to that information. I also explained that I am relatively new and hadn’t been trained on a book search so I would have to get someone else’s assistance. Her response, “Well, that much is obvious!” Major break in the conversation. I think I was stunned into silence. She finally said, “I was just kidding!” I replied, “I’m not at all sure how to respond to your comment.” She again insisted she was “kidding.” I eventually managed to transfer her to a supervisor.

    So, it feels like it has been “How rude can you be?” week. I haven’t intentionally participated but have definitely been impacted and it has not been fun!

    If nothing else, it has gotten me thinking. I don’t know if these people 1) have never been taught manners, 2) were having horrendous days, or 3) have no clue about about social discourse and being polite. Whatever the reason, I think they were passing on despair. I know I could feel the impact.

    What do you pass on to others? It can be intentional or not. Sometimes, it can be a kind word or a smile. Maybe it is telling the management at your favorite grocery store when someone was particularly helpful. Maybe it is going out of your way for someone.

    New Year’s in central Illinois was greeted with snow. I love how it looks, but I abhor the shoveling chore that comes with it. It actually turns me a bit melancholy. I admit that my thought as I set out to shovel on Tuesday was, “Why did this happen to me?” Of course, I am the queen of taking things personally and weather is so personal. Not! And it turned to a long whine of, “Why does everything come down to me?” This is true since I am single. If the vacuum gets run, I have to run it. If the litter box gets changed, it’s because I changed it. If the bills get paid, I paid them. But there is a difference in excepting reality and wallowing in self-pity. Yes, I ventured into the realm of self-pity.

    God brought to mind the message from this past Sunday. My pastor and friend, Mark Savage, mentioned doing acts of service. One of the examples, he used was shoveling snow. Being in self-centered mode I thought, “I wish someone had surprised me by shoveling my drive!” God tapped me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear, “This is not about you.“

     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    So, I shoveled my neighbors drive and sidewalk and path on the deck and put down salt. Before you shout, “Good job!” please note that I was deeply tempted to quit half way through. It was sheer willpower and the deep knowledge that it would look even worse to have just done half of it than to have done none of it that kept me at it.

    And, I was determined to be obedient.
     
    Like me, my neighbor is single. So, everything falls to her as well. My intent, besides obedience, was to pass on a bit of hope. I don’t know that she was even home and I haven’t seen her and there is no way she would know for sure that it was me. But I do hope that it brightened her day and made her feel cared for.
     
    What do you pass on intentionally or unintentionally? Do you come ushering in a wave of despair that swallows others up in it’s wake or do you buoy people towards heaven on the springboard of hope? Check yourself periodically. Make big and little intentional choices to pass on hope!
     
    Side note: While I do have to do most things myself, God blessed me tonight with a couple of helpers. Kolya (13) and Austin’s (11) parents were having dinner with friends, so the boys spent the evening here. While I cleaned up from dinner, they took down the Christmas tree (another task I hate). It was down in record time and everything stowed in the basement. We were then free to enjoy an evening of games and playing with the cats. After a difficult few days, they were bearers of hope and peace to me.
     

  • Starting 2008 on the Right Foot

    I hate snow. I mean that I really HATE snow. It looks nice and pretty but then it turns to slush and gets all black . . . . There is also the task of shoveling that comes along with it. I ABHOR shoveling. But, being single, I’m the only one around to do it. So, I went out and shoveled today.

    On Sunday, my pastor, Mark Savage, talked some about doing acts of service for others. One of the ones, wouldn’t you know, that he mentioned was shoveling. So, of course, God brought that to mind today. My first thought was, “I wish someone would have served me and surprised me by shoveling my drive!” My second thought was that I should shovel my neighbor’s drive. Like me, she is a single as well.

    So, I shoveled her drive and sidewalk and a path on her deck and put down salt. I must admit to thinking about stopping halfway through. But I figured that would look worse then not having done any of it.  So, I kept shoveling.

    If nothing else, perhaps I am starting 2008 out on the right foot! I hope so!

    DCP_1057

    My neighbor across the alley’s yard. All of his snow drifts onto mine and Lisa’s driveways!

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    Proof. My yard in comparison. See — no grass.

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    The finished driveways.

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    Katy and Mali as a bonus for reading.

    Have a great New Year!

  • The Future Is Nothing To Fear – Hope Chronicles 7

    I struggle with depression. I can honestly say that I think the depression started when I was 10. That is, at least in my recollection, the first time I wished that I was dead. I’ve struggled with it off and on now for 28 years. Sometimes I get a break for a a few months, but it has been more on than off. A couple years ago, I got about an 18 month break in the depression. It all flew out the window when a friend of mine died this spring. I completely crumbled.

    I’m probably an unusual depressed person. I’m fairly functional. I manage to hold a job and all of that but fall apart all around the edges. After struggling with it for so long, I know the symptoms and what to do. I keep busy, see the doctor and therapist regularly, take the meds, watch my thoughts, work hard at connecting with people even when I don’t feel like it, . . . .

    I know there was a precipitating factor, but having the depression hit so hard the last few months has been really difficult. I struggled with what the point was in keeping going because statistically every time I have a depressive episode I am more likely to have another. Why not give up?

    Because there are points when I feel better.

    Because there are people who care.

    Because God wants me to keep going.

    Because of things like faith and hope and love.

    I am doing better. The last 2 weeks have been a major turn around. (That is good news!) I saw my doctor yesterday. She was totally thrilled. But then in the midst of it she said, “While you are doing well, we need to strategize the best way to handle the next one.” I understand what she is saying, though I would love it if God made it so the depression never came back.

    As I contemplated the discussion yesterday and today, I’ve felt fear creep in. Fear is a thief. It steals joy and peace and takes my eyes off of God. I came across this quote from Max Lucado in GOD CAME NEAR today and it spoke to me:

    Such moments are necessary because they remind us that everything is okay. The king is still on the throne and life is still worth living. Eternal instants remind us that love is still the greatest posessession and the future is nothing to fear.

    Do you know what he is talking about? Have you ever had an “eternal instant”? It’s those moments when life just feels so right. Maybe it is when your child hugs you or you see a sun set. I know I’ve had them over the years. One of the most recent was when I had a friend’s children spend the night with me. I was putting them to bed and Elena asked, “Do you have a Bible?” They wanted to hear a Bible story. I explained that I had a Bible but I didn’t have one for children. They made sure that I knew that their parents read to them out of the “regular” Bible. So, I read to them about David and Goliath from my regular NIV. I was so touched to see their tender hearts towards scripture. There have been eternal instants: baking with a friend, sitting on a porch, cuddling with my cat. Eternal instants are ones that push back the darkness and fear. What was your most recent “eternal instant?”

    As Max Lucado writes, the King is still on the throne. Life is worth living. In spite of what the world and our circumstances might say, the future is nothing to fear.

    This is a reprint from an earlier blog on Sept.1, 2007. I just felt like it was a good one to start the New Year off with as we look into the future.

  • Things I Wish I Had Asked My Mother

    It’s New Year’s Day. Sixteen years ago today, my mother passed away. (I don’t think anyone should die on a holiday.) She had lung cancer but it spread to her brain. she was sick about 18 months. (Well, likely before that but we didn’t know it.) Some times I miss her more than others. Today, I have a list of things I wish I had asked her. Perhaps it is a list you can use when talking to your parents (things to ask) or with your children (things to tell):

    • Do you love me? My family wasn’t very demonstrative. I wish I had heard her say it more.
    • Are you scared? I think she was. She was in such denial, though. No one could actually talk about the cancer and what was happening. Once, she was in the hospital. A social worker came in and asked if she wanted to talk or if anyone in her family did. She turned her on her heel! But I needed to talk. I wasn’t allowed to.
    • Do you know Jesus? My mom was a bitter woman. She went to church very rarely. Maybe, once every couple of years. But, she and my dad belonged to the Methodist church because it was respectable. Luckily, they wanted us to be respectable as well. At 13 we had to go to church for a year so we could be confirmed. My parents just never anticipated my sister and I liking it so much!
    • Are you proud of me?
    • What was the best thing in your life?
    • What was the worst?
    • What was it like for you growing up? My mom rarely talked about growing up. I only know she was the youngest of a pack of kids (17 — some full and some half). Her father died when she was 18. He was a coal miner and after they moved to OH, he drove a taxi and was night watchman for the Cincinnati Zoo. She was born in Hazard, Kentucky. She was scared of her father. He would yell for them to get up. They shot out of bed as soon as they heard his footstep on the first step. Honestly, that is the extent of my knowledge about her growing up years. No funny stories. Nada.
    • What did you want to be when you grew up?
    • What was it like the day I was born in detail? I only know that she called my aunt after talking to the doctor. The doctor had said it couldn’t be time. My aunt told her to go to the hospital because the doctor had never had a baby and what did he know? We were premature. I weighed in at 3lbs 4 ounces. Sara weighed in at 4lbs 3 ounces. They were surprised it was twins. That’s all I know. Was it a hard labor or and easy labor? What was she thinking? How did it feel to find out she had two instead of one? I want to know about it in “full-color” detail. But I probably never will.
    • What was I like as a baby?
    • What was I like as a preschooler?
    • What dreams did you have for me?
    • What was your favorite thing about me?

    My family just never talked. Oh, how I wish we had . . . .