Inspiration

The Day I Celebrated my 107th Birthday

I’m not even a half-century old, as some have come to believe—though I did celebrate my 107th birthday last year. My birthday does not fall on Leap Year. And while my memory is not completely in tact, I do recall the day I nearly doubled in age.

Remembering birthdays has never been my strong point, and it has nothing to do with old age. I don’t expect anyone but my immediate family to remember mine. Sometimes, I even forget my own birthday. So I entered it on Facebook as February 29, 1908 as a joke. That way I’d only have to celebrate once every four years, which is fine by me.

I’d forgotten all about it until I opened my account on February 28, 2015 to a timeline filled with birthday wishes—though those who really know me caught the humor behind it. After a good laugh, I thanked my well-wishers, apologized for the misunderstanding, and changed my birthday info in the account settings.

The whole thing got me thinking—how well do I really know my friends? There’s no way I could know every detail about everyone’s life, and I wouldn’t expect a small fraction of my friends to know the same about me. But those closest to me, know me—and I, them.

There are friends from different seasons of my life, all whom I love for the roles they’ve had in my life story. Some of those friends I know well, others I wish I’d had the chance to get to know better. Then there are those with whom I’ve shared the deepest valleys and the highest heights. We know each other well enough to “see into” each other. We don’t need social media to remind us the details of our lives, because we already know.

Beyond even the best of friendships, there is one who knows us better than we know ourselves. God not only knows the day we were born, he knew us before we were born. It says he knows our deepest thoughts and our unspoken desires. He sees the hidden corners of our hearts, yet loves us still. So, even if the world mistakenly believes me to be 107 years old, God counts the exact number of my days. Because true love knows.
 
“You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.” (Psalm 139:1-6)

Source: The Day I Celebrated my 107th Birthday

The Big Freeze

When I go to a department store in Midwest sub-zero temperatures, I expect to find hats, scarves, and warm mittens. Maybe even some thick long johns, if I’m lucky. Swimming isn’t usually on my family’s radar until the end of May. Where we live, January and February are best spent hibernating indoors. So when the arctic wind accompanies me through the automatic doors of the local store, I’m more than a little confused when I see swimsuits hanging on the racks where there should be something, anything to keep us all…warm.

Never mind that half the swimsuits on display lack sufficient material for summer coverage. If I even tried to jump in a pool in February, I’d transform on impact into an ice sculpture. What I’d really like to do is write the store managers behind the winter swimsuit displays and ask them if they actually live here in the Midwest. Because if they did, they’d know we don’t need swimsuits just about now. We need down coats and thermals.

This world can be a cold place. Even if you live in California. Or Hawaii. The bitter winds of life are strong enough to freeze a heart. And only love has the power to usher in life-giving warmth.

True love is relevant. It sees a need, and meets it—whether it be a kind word, a listening ear, a meaningful gift, or practical provision. It’s not like the Midwestern store owners who lack the relevance to meet their frozen customers’ actual needs. Love observes and understands, listens, hears, and sees—enough to know the deepest needs in a person’s life.

So when someone comes looking for encouragement or comfort, I hope they don’t find the equivalent of department store swimsuits in the sub-zero Midwest winter. My prayer is that my words and actions will bring warmth enough to usher a mid-winter thaw into a frozen heart—that what I say and do will wrap them in the life-transforming power of love.

Source: The Big Freeze

There’s a Junk Monster Lurking in the Hallway Closet

Blog_ClosetDoorYou think the house is finally clean. The counters are clear, the table empty—the floor no longer a series of land mines. Even the kids pitch in, making a good show of putting their stuff away. It’s all good until you open the closet.

Little do you know there’s a junk monster lurking in that hidden place, poised to attack the first victim to open the door. Just when you think it’s all clear—BAM! He strikes without mercy and you’re overcome with a barrage of stuff you thought was history.

It happened to me recently, though not in the literal sense. Insensitive words from an old friend ushered in a flood of unwelcome emotion. Things I’d forgotten, forgiven, and left behind resurfaced with the touch of one trigger. Ouch. Words can hurt, peeling scabs off old wounds. Winter rears it’s ugly head in the midst of your blissful spring.

Encounters like this can either force us back into hibernation, or shift us into deep-cleaning mode. Too often I choose the former, when the latter will bring lasting change. Hibernation is comfortable, but we can’t stay there. A change in seasons forces us to examine our hearts. What’s lurking in there? What hidden things are suffocating life and joy? It’s time to let go that lasting change may take root in our lives.

“Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.” (Psalm 51:10)

Skeletons

Blog_SkeletonSeen a lot of skeletons lately? I have. They seem to be everywhere these days—lying in garden beds, hanging from trees, lining the clearance aisles at the store. And while these skeletons are mere plastic replicas of the real thing, they serve as a reminder. Not just to buy tons of candy to pass out to costumed kids over the weekend. No, they are a reminder of something much more sobering.

Beneath our fashionable clothes and beyond our fading flesh, a skeleton is what holds us together. And when we’re gone, that skeleton is all that will be left of our bodies.

During a trip to a third world country, I walked through an impoverished graveyard where skeletons lined the pathways. My face-to-face encounter with those empty eye sockets and fleshless bones awakened me to the reality of my own mortality. I won’t be here long, no matter how slowly time seems to pass.

It’s easy to get sucked in to the monotonous routine of everyday life, forgetting how fleeting it all is. It’s tempting to invest time and resources on the needs and desires of my flesh, neglecting to consider it’s just a temporary house. How many hours have I spent worrying about how I look or how others perceive my external appearance, when this flesh is destined for the grave?

We are more, so much more. And life is more, so much more. When I stare at the skeletons in the neighborhood yards, I’m reminded again and again. I don’t want to live for short-lived gratification. I want my life to count for something that won’t rot in a casket with my bones.

“The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever.” (Isaiah 40:8)

The View, The Scorch, and a Zombie Apocalypse

Blog_TVControlRoomHave you ever wondered what it would be like to be a victim of a zombie apocalypse? Me neither, though yet another movie has emerged to depict the potential outcome of such a catastrophe. Which has me thinking. We’re not so different from these would-be victims.

Though much of our world is now wireless, how much of our days are spent connected by invisible wires to a monitor of some sort? The TV screen, the computer monitor, our cell phone display. And though we’re told by the talking heads on such monitors to think for ourselves, they’re doing an awful lot of the thinking for us. “Be original, be yourself, be unique!” they cry as the silent warning sounds that if we so much as diverge from their status quo, we will be verbally persecuted, if not worse.

A recent and now-notorious episode of The View serves as example. Nurses around the world were rightly outraged when their selfless profession was casually mocked by the talking heads on this opinion-driven platform, triggering the hashtag #nursesunite. No matter if the initial comments were a weak attempt at humor. It took this obvious untruth spoken across the airwaves to wake would-be fans to what has been reality for as long as the first TV antennas went up: not everything we hear from rich and famous self-proclaimed life-experts is…true.

We’ve lived so long in a media-induced stupor that we don’t realize how far we’ve drifted from reality until some clearly misguided statement wakes us from our near-comatose state. How long prior to #nursesunite were the screen-bound personas of The View and shows like it speaking untruths, half-truths, misguided words and emotion-driven opinions without a public outcry as the outcome? How much of our own worldview is so influenced by the media that we can’t even separate truth from opinion…from blatant lie?

#Nursesunite is not just a hashtag. It’s a wake-up call, reminding us that the people on TV are just…people. They are not gods. They are not life-experts. And we don’t owe our lives, or our brains, to them. As much as the world of monitors has become our world, we need to detach ourselves from the wireless wires and finally…think for ourselves.

The Other Side of Pain

Blog_MorningSo often we take the sun for granted, only to complain when it doesn’t shine.  What we forget is that the sun never fails to shine—there are just days when we can’t see it because it’s hidden behind the clouds.  If you’ve ever been in an airplane on a cloudy day, you know that once you’re above the clouds, the sun is still there—faithfully shining, as always.

In life, we tend to take the good for granted, only to complain when trials come.  We think that God has stopped working in our lives simply because we can’t see Him clearly.  He is hidden behind our trials; shrouded by our circumstances.  But if we lift up our eyes, we will see that He is always there, faithfully laboring in love to bring forth good from our suffering.

There is always another side to our pain.  There is always a place where we will break through the clouds and see the sun—if only we will lift up our eyes.  There will always be a time when we come out the other side of our dark tunnel and find it was leading us somewhere far greater than we ever imagined.

Maybe there’s a purpose for all that you’ve lost—that in searching to find it again, you’ll discover something of far greater value.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

(Originally posted by Jen on “Tears of Joy” Blog)

Permanence

theAverageJen_EveryActOfLove

There’s something inside me that longs for permanence in what I do. I want the things I invest my time and resources in to last—and not just for a day or two, or even a year. I want them to last beyond me.