Hi, Daddy!

Her voice rang out amid the silence of a congregation full of worshipers. "Hi, Daddy!" It was the first time my 3-year-old niece had been in a worship service when her daddy was singing in the choir. When she saw him, she was thrilled. Again the voice rang out a little louder. "Hi, Daddy!" And again with a bit more shrill to it each time. "Hi, Daddy!!" Completely oblivious to the "reverence" and sobriety of the moment, this child gave way to the excitement of seeing her daddy.

"Abba" is the Greek term for daddy. It's the word Jesus Himself called His Father when He was praying in the garden before His crucifixion. It's a term of intimacy ... familiarity. Just as it was for my niece to her daddy this particular morning.

After the choir sang, the members dispersed into the congregation to sit with their families. My brother was no exception. He leaned over the first pew to where his little girl sat with her mother and picked her up in his arms and carried her to the nursery -- which is where 3-year-olds go during the sermon time. But she didn't care. She was in her father's strong arms, and she was delighted. One could tell by the tight grip she had around his neck and the wide smile on her face. After all, she worships her daddy.

Just an ordinary moment...

Ashes to Ashes

What began as just a normal invitation to tea last week turned into a most spiritual moment for me Friday. It wasn't the first time I had been asked to such an engagement and it certainly wasn't the first time I had been in my friend's lovely home. Nor was it the first time we had talked about the beautiful blue and white tea canister sitting on her mantel -- and her father's remains that were encased within it. What was different this time is that she actually opened the container and pulled them out after making sure none of her 3 guests found it morbid.

There he was, at least 1/5 of him, as the other siblings each had a share, completely comprised in a plastic zip-lock bag no larger than my hand. I stood there just looking at the silvery gray ash before asking if I might hold it. When my friend said, "Of course," I reverently took it in both hands and studied the metallic "dust." It was much more dense than one would have thought for ashes, and much heavier than one would have suspected, even though it only weighed 1.8 lbs. (Yes, we actually weighed it later.)

But somehow I knew that I was standing on sacred ground, and no words seemed appropriate. It was indeed a moment to be embraced.

"Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust." I've heard them all my life and have even participated in the imposition of ashes to my forehead on Ash Wednesdays for more than a decade now. But not until that moment did I catch the magnitude of those words. From surely we come and to surely we will go. And in the meantime, God chooses to give us life -- His life, that we might know Him, so that when those ashes return to their former state, our spirits live on forever. With Him.

Who but God could think up such a plan?

Just an ordinary moment...

Wall Street Versus East Africa

I was not shocked by today's headlines; after all, it had been all the over the news and internet last night. In fact, an entire page in this morning's paper was given to just such. Complete with pictures. Stocks fell 634 points in yesterday's trading.

What did catch me off guard however was when I turned the front page and saw the small 1 1/2- by 3-inch blurb concerning the famine in East Africa. In less that 70 words, we were told that "hundreds of thousands of kids could die in famine." The news wasn't new to me, but it jolted me as if lightning from last night's storm had hit its mark on my own heart.

And so I wondered: what stirs the heart of God more? A middle-aged man crouching behind a computer screen with his hands covering his face or a starving refugee child reduced to nothing but skin and bones looking through bulging eyes at his mama.

I know and I think you do as well. Now what are we going to do about it?

Honestly, with such an unstable economy, maybe we're thinking we can't afford to do anything. Beloved, we can't afford NOT to do anything.

Is this not the fast I have chosen: ...
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry ...?

THEN your light shall break forth like the morning,
your healing shall spring forth speedily,
and your righteousness shall go before you;
the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.
Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
You shall cry, and He will say, "Here I am."

(Isaiah 58:6-9)

http://www.samaritanspurse.org/index.php/articles/food_crisis_in_kenya/

http://lifetoday.org/outreaches/mission-feeding/

Just an ordinary moment...

Wordy Girl

I'm such a wordy girl. I probably should apologize for it; but it's who I am. I know some of my friends must roll their eyes when they receive letters or emails from me as I tend to fill my epistles with way too much information. Useless facts. Needless news. But if they only knew what I actually left out... And on more than one occasion, after a rather wordy flirtation, my husband has been known to say, "Yet another insignificant moment in the life of Nancy." Which is just another way of saying, "Much ado about nothing."

I also confess to being somewhat nerdy. After all, I receive a "word of the day" each morning -- and I'm not talking some rich devotional thought to inspire spiritual thinking. I'm talking about a word with its definition. For example, today's was "overslaugh." It means "to pass over or disregard (a person) by giving a promotion, position, etc., to another." Maybe you think that's useless. Maybe it will show up in a blog one day.

And is it asinine or peculiar to have a shortcut to thesaurus.com on one's desktop? If indeed it is, then call me so.

I also keep a game of "Words with Friends" going with both my son and his wife. Basically, it's just Scrabble played at one's leisure back and forth on our smart phones. It always thrills me when I can use all 8 letters -- like "pirating"! And a triple word square makes it even better! Today I was able to play "abba," "rotated," and "faux," which brought in some hefty points with the "X".

But what has me thinking is the weight words can and do carry. In fact, God's Word has a lot to say about words and their effects on you and on me.

Just listen:

Wise words satisfy like a good meal; the right words bring satisfaction (Prov. 18:20).

The words of the godly are a life-giving fountain; the words of the wicked conceal violent intentions (Prov. 10:11).

Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing. Prov. 12:18

A fool's mouth is his undoing, and his lips are a snare to his soul (Prov. 18:7).

And can I just add that the world itself was framed by the word protruding out of the mouth of God? It all began with, "Light!" And there was. Words hold creative power, my friends! Not to mention destructive as well. Whoever said, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me," had his head in the sand. They can downright kill!

Yep, I'm a wordy girl. But I need to be careful. The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit (Prov. 18:21). Sounds like I have a choice to make every time I open my mouth or put pen to paper.

What about you?

Just an ordinary moment...

Mike's Jewel

There is a song that needs to be sung -- but I find there are no words to equal the strength and beauty of the melody. Deeply soulful and sometimes restrained and delicate, the notes are being hammered out in the day to day. In some places, it rings of broken hearts and shattered dreams, yet the overlying theme resounds of a love stronger than death itself.

Thing is it's not even my song to sing, yet one that has found cadence on the strings of my own heart and harmony within my own life's orchestration. It's the psalm of Mike and Julie.

I have known Mike all of my life. In fact, he and I shared a table in the back far corner in Mrs. Barfield's first grade class. My most vivid memory of those days is when I felt the need to align our little table for two with the one next to ours and, in doing so, pinched Mike's already scabbed elbow that was sitting directly in the place of juncture, thus reopening the wound. If I recall correctly, the entire class came to a halt from the screech of pain and while Mrs. Barfield applied a bandage.

The next 12 years swept along and Mike and I found each other in and out of homerooms together. Our senior year came and went, and quite sadly, so did Mike and I as we did not see each other for another 34 years. That is until Tuesday evening.

Actually, our reconnection took place a couple of years ago when we "found" each other through facebook. Mike had recently remarried and I delighted in looking at pictures of his and Julie's "redneck wedding," as he calls it -- a simple but beautiful ceremony in their backyard by the lake. Shortly thereafter, posts began appearing about Julie's condition: a large cyst on her brain stem, surgery, crossed eyes, more surgery, therapy, a set back, more surgery, pneumonia, paralysis on her right side, 135 days of continuous hospital stay. An orchestration filled with highs and lows, faith and fear. But after 18 months and 13 surgeries, Julie is home and Mike is right by her side. A duet of grace.

After a few messages back and forth, I called Mike and asked if I could come by to see him and meet his bride; he was more than gracious to my offer. He told me the therapist was there, but he'd leave the door open and for me to come on in. Much to my delight, he was waiting at the door when I arrived, and our first moments together reminded me why I have always had such an affinity for this fellow. "A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good things," Matthew 12:35 says, and that's Mike.

My friend pointed me to the living area where Julie sat waiting in her wheelchair. Our introduction was an embrace. And for the next period of time, the 3 of us got acquainted and reacquainted, with lots of reminiscing and stories thrown in the mix. And as we did, my heart grew larger and fuller as this beautiful woman took her place within its posts.

Several times a week I seem to run into someone whose only response to life is to complain. It had happened the Saturday morning before and it happened immediately upon leaving Mike and Julie. Both from individuals I don't even know. But here sat a couple who have every right to curse and complain, yet choose to bless instead. Though Mike does not diminish his past, nor do he and Julie deny their situation, they attest to a God who is faithful to them in this present moment and speak nothing but life giving words.

Mike calls Julie "Jewels," and rightly so, for indeed she is his gem. He looks at her with an expression of love that would melt the hardest metal. And she responds in like manner. His voice is kind -- albeit stern like a father when she gets to going too fast in her wheelchair. And her face is playful when she cuts her eyes toward him and drops her jaw.

It has not come without cost, and yes, each day brings its own source of challenges, but these two are writing a melody that is eternal and one that resounds in the heavenlies. My heart is indeed blessed by its tune.

In the 9th grade, Mike and I once again shared homeroom in Mr. Kelly's class. But this time we're on the front row. I'm 3rd from left and he's far right.
Who would have ever guessed that 37 years later, he and I would once again be on our knees together -- this time with his beautiful Jewel and in the presence of a mighty God whose life pulses through her body to the tune of mercy and grace.
Oh, how I bless you two in the powerful name of Jesus! May the days ahead be filled with nothing short of love, wholeness, and miraculous wonders. Not to mention lots of music!

Just an ordinary moment...