How Great Is Our God

About 4:15, I turned on the radio and the emergency broadcast system was delivering a tornado WARNING to the listeners. My ears perked up immediately when I heard there was a twister spotted in Henderson moving in a northeasterly direction. I knew that meant it was headed for Perry. I let the dogs in the house, grabbed my keys, and headed out the door to the safety of my brother's basement on the other side of town -- picking up my daughter on the way. Several other family members and friends had gathered, but instead of going downstairs, I took my place on the front with my brother and dad, and we watched. I have never experienced more awesome cloud formations in my life. The picture is actually one I took with my camera phone. The difference in the light and dark was incredible as the clouds boiled and churned over us. Chip was rebuking them -- commanding them to stay high (of which I was most grateful), but I couldn't help but worship. God is so awesome in might and magnificent in power. He is indeed worthy of our praise.

I'm glad I chose to remain upstairs.

Three Pictures, Three Stories

If you live in our area or frequently travel up and down I-75 between Macon and Perry, you are aware that the well renowned Café Erotica saw its final days recently. In fact, its razing on Friday morning brought quite the crowd. Saturday morning’s Macon Telegraph saw, not one, but two front page stories related to this noteworthy occasion along with several photographs. It’s not that I’m in disagreement with the closing of this nude dancing/strip joint. In fact, I was all in favor of it. If I’ve asked the Lord once as I’ve driven by, I’ve asked Him a hundred times to deliver those girls out of that pit and to do the same for those customers who would make regular visits there. (To give you an idea of the place, Jerry Springer had even filmed a segment of his TV show here.)

One of the front page stories related primarily the news of the notable closing and pending destruction set in motion by a ceremonial demolition. Chamber of Commerce presidents were present, each celebrating the potential growth and evolution in the area now that the highly visible joint would be gone.

The other story was of Rachel Simms who danced there for nearly four years in the late 90’s. Today she is a happily married wife who has found complete redemption in Christ Jesus and who has one of the most beautiful testimonies I’ve ever read. Two weeks ago she stood in her church pulpit and told her story to not only her congregation but a TV audience as well. At the end, not only did 10 people come forward, she found out that a former Café dancer was in the audience dealing with the same guilt she had dealt with for so many years herself. If you’d like to read her story, you can go to http://www.macon.com/197/story/426951.html.

But why do I write my blog this week on something such as this? Because of the photographs accompanying the articles. They told the real stories. The headline picture was that of a mechanical claw demolishing the “We Bare All” sign. In Rachel’s story, a before and after picture were included of the former dancer revealing a great transformation. And in the main article, there was a picture of the pastor of a very large church in the area pumping his Bible up in triumph. And it just made me sick for some reason.

Yes, victory had come; but it was not in the form of a sign or building coming down. It was in the life of a precious woman who has been to hell and back, who has found complete redemption, and who now tells her personal story so that others might find the same.

I just have a gut feeling that this young woman will touch more lives for Jesus than any Bible pumping preacher could ever hope to do.

What's In Your Closet?

I’ve had my mind on my mind lately. What is it that makes me think the things I think and do the things I do? This was mainly brought to my attention because of the tragedy that happened here in my hometown over the weekend. A father walked into his house and shot his two sons execution style (ages 7 and 10), then shot his step-father and his estranged wife before turning the gun on himself. What makes a man do that? Is it indeed demonic activity or is it a deranged mind? Is anyone beyond such violent activity?

What is in my mind? Where do I have an erroneous mindset? The apostle Paul tells me in 2 Corinthians 11:3 that even if I have a sincere and pure devotion to Christ, my mind can be led astray, lured away by the enemy of my soul. Just before that, he had said to be constantly “fitting every loose thought and emotion and impulse into the structure of life shaped by Christ” (10:5 -- The Message). The NIV renders it, “Take every thought captive to the obedience of Christ.”

So how do I do that? I think I first need to look at the fruit my mind is producing. For example, someone asked me a very innocent question the other day, and I answered it very simply. But then I thought, “Why did she ask me that?” and I suddenly became very hypersensitive. That hypersensitivity was the fruit – but fruit comes from a root, and the root of wrong thinking is always a faulty belief system. So maybe I need to examine my belief system. In this case, I know the root was pride and insecurity or why else would I have been so sensitive? When I produce the fruit of a need to control, it’s a root of insecurity – every time. Perfectionism? Low self-esteem. We don’t simply grow insecure, angry, intolerant, or defensive without something to feed those feelings or thoughts. The feelings and thoughts are just the fruit of an erroneous mindset that has not been taken captive to the obedience of Christ. I am going to behave according to what I think.

This week I am making a concerted effort to take my thoughts captive and make them agree with truth – the truth of God’s Word and who He says I am. It begins with taking an inventory – and I’m not so sure I’m going to enjoy this.

By the way, what’s in your closet?

As It Should Be

Having married off both of my sons to wonderful women last year and now marrying off my daughter in a few months to a wonderful young man, I only thought it appropriate and required to read Annie Chapman’s book The Mother in Law Dance. Though a good read for any mother who finds herself with a new in-law, it’s especially intended for mothers and daughters-in-law.

Here’s how the book begins: The candles are lit, the room glows with a soft yellow hue, the groom, the pastor, and the wedding party are in place at the altar. As all eyes eagerly watch the closed door at the chapel’s entrance, suddenly the air is changed from the sweet stillness of anticipation to the first notes of the beautiful music chosen for the wedding processional. As the doors swing open, the bride’s heart races at the sound of the melodic cue to make that long-awaited, slow walk down the aisle of matrimony. But as the song plays, the lovely bride does not realize that she is not the only lady in the room who has been cued by the music. Her mother-in-law-to-be is also called to respond to the melody. While the young woman in white moves gracefully with the music toward her chosen one, the song calls the mother of the groom to graciously step to the side. In reality, the wedding processional is not just for the bride, it is also a cue for a lifelong dance to begin for two special women in one man’s life.

Life is certainly about transition – and this one is key to future years of healthy family function. I certainly haven’t mastered the mother-in-law thing yet, but I’m working on it. I’ve seen a measure of success, I think, but I’ve also had my failures.

As I look back over years of praying for my children’s future spouses, I see the faithfulness of God’s hand: not that He formed the spouses into what I wanted, but that He molded my prayers to fit my children’s needs. I bow to such a wise God.

Both of my son’s wives are wonderful and caring individuals who continue to make me feel a part of their husband’s lives. Whereas guys don’t do a lot of emailing or calling, I hear from the girls often as they send newsy notes, calls or emails updating me on the latest. I appreciate that so much in them.

But yesterday I was hit with what I would call my first real test. I received a call from Kristin about 4:20 telling me that Robert was sick and they were on their way to the hospital. As far as I’m concerned, anytime blood is involved, there’s a need for concern. Sandy told me that if I wanted to go, he wanted me to leave quickly to make it before dark. I was set on go. But of course, I knew what I had to do. I called and asked the newlyweds if they wanted me to come. And at this point, the answer was no. And as much as I wanted to be there, I knew their answer was the right one – and I rested in it.

But my sweet daughter-in-love knew this mother’s heart. She texted me constantly, giving me the moment by moment plays. She even sent pictures of Robert lying in the hospital bed! And then a sweet one of him resting peacefully after the meds had kicked in. At 9:00 she texted to say all was well and that they were leaving to go home. And to think that he didn’t even need his mama.

So much changes when our adult children fall in love and marry. But it’s indeed for the good and just as God would have it. And quite frankly, as I would have it, too.

Thank you, sweet girls, for loving my sons. I bless you both.

A Rare and Unusual Family

Sandy and I frequent a little mom and pop “diner” here in town. You’ll find us there about every Saturday morning for breakfast and every Sunday after church for lunch. Even on a weekday, we might stop in for a real homemade hamburger. When leaving a couple of weeks ago, Sandy made the comment, “I swear, even if the food was terrible,” (which it’s not), “I’d still come here just because of the people.” And that’s the truth.

Though it’s rare that we go in and don’t see a familiar face, even the not familiar have grown recognizable. We may not know the names of all the customers, but we certainly know their faces. And as for the staff – dishwasher and cooks included, we not only know each of their names, I even have their birthdays written on my calendar at home so I can make sure they get their favorite cake.

Where else but My Sister’s Café can a waitress pull out her cell phone and show you pictures of her dog? Or another tell about mud-bogging the night before? If it’s slow, they’ll even take their shoes off and sit down with you for awhile. And if it’s busy, we pour our own coffee and bus our own tables.

We have jokingly called it “ministry,” but lately, it has been more than that. We actually were saddened when we learned that a favorite waitress (who dubbed Sandy “Sunshine”) decided not to come back from “vacationing” in Florida last week. Not only was she tired, but her dad was sick and her marriage on the rocks. I wish I had done more.

And it’s certainly not odd to have Millie, the owner, spend the entire meal with you – and we don’t mind. Today was one of those days for us. But each time we learn a little more of her life story. She came from a broken home; was raised by her dad who was an alcoholic and took care of her grandfather who was an invalid; has a sister who is bipolar; lost not one but two children to death; suffered for 5 years from agoraphobia and wouldn’t leave her house; lost her husband before it was time. She’s no doubt a survivor. But to just have a casual acquaintance with Millie, you’d never know these things. Her life is characterized by joy and a deep faith hammered out on the anvil of life.

As for me? I was feeling sorry for myself tonight ...

Maybe I need to visit My Sister's again soon, sit awhile, and just get a little perspective.