What Mama Decided

Naked toes curl in the ooze of mud, fists clench berries all dripping with ripeness and swell a little boy's head with notions of a steaming pie....

Another boy is a hunter; he is serious. He will feed the family with the new skill he is acquiring, and young girls are intent on cramming baskets with Summer's bounty....

A mama walks behind, slow...and thoughtfully taking it all in, drinking mirth and delight of childhood..heart filled with the meanderings of her own mind...

And this time...This time she's thinking about labels...
How labels are good for cans, and appropriate for tags on clothes, and perfect for identifying animals and plants and such...
Yes, labels identify; they tell us exactly what we're getting. I know that when I open a can labeled "dog food," I will not find tomatoes inside (hopefully!)
I know that when I order a size "small" dress in the mail, I will not get a size "extra large."
So labels can be a good thing....for things.
Labels are not helpful for people.

He's lazy. She's dumb. They are ignorant. I'm fat. He's a troublemaker. On and on it goes...until we stuff people in cans, like a bunch of sardines, and slap a sticker on them. We all do it. It's part of human nature to want to define and categorize others by appearances or even actions:

"But the LORD said to Samuel, 'Do not look at his appearance or at the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.' " (Samuel 16:7)

Isn't it good to know that God doesn't label us? And if He doesn't label us, why do we insist on labeling others? When we label others, we cannot see the richness and depth of who they truly are; we do not see them with dignity, as beloved creatures made in the image and likeness of God. When we label others, we are actually refusing to see others as God does...with eyes of love.

I've had it with labels...
It's time to stop using them for people and keep them on cans and dress tags....where they belong!!!



That's what the mama decided on that walk...
and that thought made her heart happy.

To Be Exact

Well, since I can't get Ben to start his own blog, I am using my blog to showcase his amazing photography. He uses an ipod to take all his pictures, then enhances them with an application right on the ipod! He even got a nifty copyright symbol that goes on every photo he takes!

Now...today's topic... seems a little strange. I often wake up with a word or thought on my mind that must somehow percolate overnight. The children were telling me yesterday about a person they know that bothers them, but they could not put their finger on what it was that annoyed them about this person. After describing several interactions with this individual, the conversation turned to something else. I didn't think about it after that, but I guess my brain was working on it subconsciously, and this morning I woke up thinking about the less than noble quality of being exacting.

So what does it mean to be exacting?
An 'exacting' person constantly keeps score:  "I did this for you, so now you need to do this for me." Of course, this isn't stated out loud (in most cases), but even worse, the tension of being 'even' is always there.

An exacting person, in the name of justice, equality, respect, and virtue, demands perfection and accountability for all actions- even to the point of sacrificing the relationship. The law is to be upheld at all costs, excluding charity and love of one another.

I think the pharisees must have been an exacting sort of people. Even when Christ performed the most amazing miracles, they could only see the breach of the law (healing on the Sabbath, etc..) But God never said that the law is supreme; the law is not an end in itself. In fact, when questioned regarding the greatest commandments, Jesus responds:

 “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.  This is the great and first commandment.  And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.  On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.” (Matthew 22:37-40)

The law is dependent upon love of God and man; love is not dependent upon the law!

The Lord does tell us that if we love him we will keep his commandments:

 And this is his commandment, that we believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he has commanded us. (24) Whoever keeps his commandments abides in him, and he in them. And by this we know that he abides in us, by the Spirit whom he has given us. (1 John 3:23-24)


 But in conjunction with this mandate he says that God has commanded us to love one another.


He also tells us that without love, anything we do is fruitless:

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. (2) And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. (3) If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing. (1 Corinthians 13:1-3)


So the bottom line is, I need to remember in all my actions that love must be the driving force. Things may not be "exactly" right, or even as they should be, but are made perfect in His love.

"It has been told you, O' man, what is good, and what the LORD does require of you, only to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God".  (Micah 6:8)

"The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven..Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes."
~Shakespeare

Petals In The Wind

Apple blossoms flower the dining room table, and another one slips off to flurry down in the breeze. I think to myself that I need to take them outside and put them to rest. Their bloom has surely given way to a mess.

I'm drawn back to the words of a teacher I once worked with : "I never bring real flowers in the house- only artificial ones. The real ones just make too much of a mess." I remember being horrified (seriously) by the very thought of no real flowers in the house! I wasn't married yet, but I already had visions of the lovely flowers that would fill my home with beauty and lavish scent.

Now I have to laugh; you see, I still bring fresh flowers in, but they ARE A MESS! And I think Of dear Ms. Maclin's words every time I clean up a flower mess. So today, I'm sitting on the bench, trying to fix my vacuum, and it stinks. It smells like Roy, our lab. I can't imagine not having him inside with us, but no matter what we do, he just has a more "doggy" odor. And I'm thinking about all these messes that could be avoided?

And that's just it. There is a price for being real. Flowers that bestow scent and loveliness fade and die. Dogs smell and shed hair. Children change clothes, muddy floors, squeeze toothpaste all over the place, spill juice, and make all manner of messes ...

But imagine a world with no Lilac smell, no cuddly dogs breathing soft on the sheepskin rug, no little feet pitter patting towards you with  pink boots and bathing suit. Imagine a life of artificiality, where it's all fake. The house is clean: no flower messes, no dog hair to vacuum, no fingerprints to wipe....

But no life. No life, because life is messy. The passion and beauty of real living, real relationships, emotions that swell and fill come at a price- the price of being vulnerable to the pain, the discomfort, the mess. And so many times, because I don't want the mess, I choose the artificial. I sacrifice the living that runs deep for surface living that shields but doesn't penetrate, that' s safe but not overflowing- a lifeless void that does not infuse all who God is. Because He is real, and there is no substitute for the breath of a living God.

So many times we bring "artificial flowers" into our souls, because we don't want the mess of " real flowers." We choose to keep relationships shallow and flat, because we're afraid of the dying- the death of emotions, the death of loneliness, the death of self.

When I choose to love someone in a way that is authentic, I give pieces of myself away; those emotions that bloom and flower may some day be petals in the wind. But if my soul has become more beautiful through that loving, even if for just a short while, that beauty will never fade. Real relationships edify and sculpt a soul for eternity.

"I fly those flights of a fluid and swallowing soul, my course runs below the soundings of plummets."
~Walt Whitman

Never

I have lots of books. LOTS. I guess other people have lots too, because in the book I was reading last night (one I had picked up at a book sale) this is what was written in it:

I like that idea- writing the date I finished reading a book. Unfortunately, though, I rarely read nonfiction books start to finish. I read snippets here and there as they catch my interest.

Last night I was reading The History Of The Atomic Bomb. I had cleaned out a book shelf over the weekend, and this book was in my potential "give-away" stack  (not anymore).

So there I was, on Easter night, no less, reading about the atomic bomb. And I read the most fascinating account:

In 400 BC the Greek philosopher Democritus first speculated on the existence of particles so very small that they could not become any smaller. He called these particles atoms, a combination of two Greek words meaning 'that which cannot be cut.'

More than two thousand years later Isaac Newton revived the idea. 'It seems probable to me,' Newton wrote, 'that God in the beginning formed matter in solid...particles... even so as to never wear or break in  pieces; no ordinary power being able to divide what God himself made in the first creation.' (p12)

More than two thousand years.
Two thousand years for an idea to take hold.
Two thousand years of the mind wheels spinning.
Two thousand years of cocooning, incubating, percolating.
but still breathing, still alive.

And oddly, this new insight to the discovery of  the atomic bomb infuses hope. It all makes sense.
Two thousand years. Two thousand years ago, Christ died on a cross saving me from my sins today.

Love takes long.
Love takes long, but love never fails.
That is a promise I can hold on to!

"Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears."
(1Corinthians 13:8-9)

Love is a verb. Love is an act of faith.We love the unlovable, love the impossible, love the dying, love the disfigured, love the very people in our lives that cause us the most pain. God can take that love and heal. God can take that love and restore wholeness..because...

Love never fails. never.

In Pursuit Of Self

"From the rising of the sun to its setting The name of the Lord is to be praised." ~ psalm 113:3

When I was a little girl, I was the center of my small universe. I have the distinct memory of riding home from  lake Sherando- I guess I was about four years old or so- looking out the window of the unusually quiet car, staring at the moon. Every time we turned, the moon seemed to follow us. The faster we went, the moon kept the pace.

"Mommy!," I remember excitedly whispering," The moon is following me..."
Now that I have my own children, and I know a little about the so-called psychological development of children, I realize that this "egocentric" view of the world is a "normal" stage of development in a child's life.

.

And, of course, we hope to pass through this self-centered phase, as remaining the center of one's own existence is certainly not the foundation of maturity. Have you ever met an adult who still thinks that life should center around him or her? We all have moments of self-god, but hopefully it's not the norm.

There is one area of our lives, however, where it would be good to see ourselves in the center, in focus. As I took my walk yesterday, the sun seemed to follow me. I was once again that child in the car, small and stilled...to think that the sun follows me. It was not the arrogance of self being glorified. It was the humility, the awe of a child, that such grandeur would pursue nothingness. That though I am not worthy, He gifts me every day in innumerable abundance.

That it doesn't matter  how good I am, or what I do, or how I look. That it doesn't matter what my house looks like, or how my kids turn out, or what a mess my life is. That perfection is not the prerequisite. He pursues me because he loves me. He Loves me. Is there really anything more than this?

Every day God pours his very life out for us. Every morning we must commit ourselves to sharing in his love. Loving God isn't about being good; loving God is about becoming a receptacle of his grace by choosing Him above all else.

"Choose you this day whom ye will serve."~ Joshua 24:15

Every morning, every moment, I make that choice. Loving God isn't about me; I am only able to respond to Him, to be filled with love, because He first calls me. And when I respond to that call, when I choose to serve Him above all, I love Him in a way that completes self: self in the center, self radiating out, self widening circles that unleash His love to others.

Invitation To Love
by Paul Laurence Dunbar

Come when the nights are bright with stars
Or when the moon is mellow;
Come when the sun his golden bars
Drops on the hay-field yellow.

Come in the twilight soft and gray,
Come in the night or come in the day,
Come, O love, whene'er you may,
And you are welcome, welcome.

You are sweet, O Love, dear Love,
You are soft as the nesting dove.
Come to my heart and bring it rest
As the bird flies home to its welcome nest.

Come when my heart is full of grief
Or when my heart is merry;
Come with the falling of the leaf
Or with the redd'ning cherry.
Come when the year's first blossom blows,
Come when the summer gleams and glows,
Come with the winter's drifting snows,
And you are welcome, welcome.