A Question

If I believe God is sovereign (and I do), why do I wear a seat belt and get a flu vaccine?  I'm correct on both sides of this equation, but I can't articulate the reasons why.

A Jackson Pollock Painting

I'm not a fan of Jackson Pollock's art.  It's way too out there for me.  But I was thinking about myself, my personality, my likes/dislikes, my history, what I read, what I listen to, what I think about.  And I realized, I am a Jackson Pollock painting.  I'm a mishmash of colors thrown together, with no discernible rhyme or reason.  A drop of green here, a streak of blue there, dabbles of pink and red and purple and white.

I like jazz music, rock music, bluegrass, Celtic, some country.  I own some bagpipe cd's, for crying out loud.

I read murder mysteries, urban noir, biographies, history, current events, contemporary thought, health and wellness.  I read newspapers, books, magazines, blogs, cereal boxes and nutritional labels.

I dress conservatively, casually, modern, old-fashioned.  I'm just as at home in jeans and sweatshirts as I am in business suits, as I am in khakis and blazers.  I'm LL Bean, Evan Picone, WalMart, and Salvation Army Thrift Store.

My home is decorated in Traditional, Country, Cottage, Mission, Victorian, Romance, Contemporary.

I have an educated slang casual city country vocabulary.

I drink wine, Diet Coke, tap water, spring water, flavored water, black tea, white tea, green tea, herb tea, iced tea, Long Island Iced Tea and the occasional cappuccino.  That's really as far as I've delved in to the coffee world.

I like a clean house; I like a messy house.

I like to ride my bike, walk, hike; I am a couch potato.

I feel happy, sad, angry, encouraged, fearful, confident, excited, disgusted - sometimes all at the same time.

Many biographers and art historians speculate that Pollock suffered bipolar disease, which would explain the mania exhibited in his art.  Some might look at the canvas that is my life and wonder about the Artist that created me, as well. 

No one understands what was going through Pollock's mind as he dripped and tossed paint on canvas.  No one knows what fueled the thoughts and feelings he was trying to display, what emotions he was trying to free from deep within his soul.

I don't really understand what the Artist who created me was/is trying to accomplish.  His Word, His Autobiography says we all were fearfully and wonderfully made (Ps 139:14) in His image (Gen 1:27).  However, His art is not from bipolar disease.  He is not manic.  God is quite deliberate in how He proceeds.

One need only look at the history of creation in Genesis to see how carefully He made the earth and all that is within it.  For six straight days, He created a new item, one thing leading to another.  There was nothing random about it.  He separated land and water before He made plants.  He created plants before He created the animals that would eventually feed on those plants. 

As I feel happy, sad, angry, encouraged, fearful, confident, excited, disgusted (sometimes all at the same time), contemplating the "why's?" of my life, I have to step back and see the Artist at work, trusting there is a masterpiece being made that is still in process.  He's dripping points of sad blue on to streaks of boring beige next to lines of hot red through pools of peaceful yellow and green, with some splashes of fun pink and purple tossed in for humor and good measure.

There will be a day when the canvas that is me will be in His  heavenly gallery.  Jesus and I will be viewing the completed  work and I'll understand why that big black drip fell on to that fuschia experience and that it hadn't ruined but enhanced my life.  I need to have faith that the omniscient, omnipotent Artist will complete the good work He began in me (Phil 1:6).  Until that time, I need to watch the Artist wield His brushes, trusting that He has complete and total control.  There is nothing random about His paintings.

A Rose By Any Other Name

I've seen where many people seem to resemble their name.  In most cases, these people were named at birth before their personalities had emerged, so it serves to reason that God knew who or what they would become and informed theparents of the proper name before their child came in to being.

Look at Jacob (Supplanter/Trickster) who took his brother's inheritance.  Saul (Responder) who responded to God's call and became Paul (Humble).  John the Baptist (God is gracious).  And then, of course, there's Jesus (God Rescues).

My name is Barbara; it's Greek for Stranger, Foreigner.  Maybe it was set from birth that I would be out of place, lonely.  I don't want to be a stranger anymore.  I'm tired of it.  I want Him to change my name like He did for Jacob who became Israel (God Wrestler).

But to what will He change it?  And when?

Jigsaw Puzzle

Each life is like a jigsaw puzzle. Every experience is a piece in that puzzle and we spend our lives matching and piecing those parts together to form the whole of our lives here on earth. In heaven, we get to look at that completed puzzle and understand how all the pieces, all the experiences – good and bad, fit together and appreciate the beauty of the finished product.

In the meantime, however, we have to live through the completion process – twisting and turning the various parts, trying to match them up, endeavoring to make sense of it all. As we get older, bigger chunks form. Or at least, one would think they should or would. But that hasn’t been the case with me.

I have so many individual pieces still unmatched. Despite incredible efforts and prayers I struggle to put these pieces together. After almost fifty years, two or three pieces might have come together, but still there is no discernible image forming. I just have lots of small, seemingly pointless chunks sitting on the table, waiting to be assembled and identified, their purpose known.

I wait.  Sometimes patiently.  More often, not.  But still, I wait.  I won't abandon the puzzle, but I surely wish it would come together soon.

Decision Making Questions

What criteria do You use to determine which prayers You'll answer, and which ones You'll refuse?
Why do You answer my quick requests to find my lost car keys, but deny my desperate pleas for bigger things?
Are You looking for certain words, certain arguments, certain actions?
What am I doing wrong?

Arthritis of the Heart

I suffer from the chronic illness called loneliness.

Like arthritis, I wake some days symptom-free.  Most days, however, it's slow going; but eventually, once I get moving, the aches and pains subside.

But some days, the pain is downright debilitating.  Every movement, every word, every experience is a stabbing reminder of my alone-ness.  The pain is unbearable, making me wish for a quick and easy end.

There is no cure.  There are no emotional anti-inflmatories to take.  I just have to ride out the waves of pain.  But I anxiously, impatiently and hopefully wait for heaven, where there will be no more pain, no more tears, no more suffering.

Binded by the Light

O to grace how great a debtor


Daily I'm constrained to be!

Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,

Bind my wandering heart to Thee.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,

Prone to leave the God I love;

Here's my heart, O take and seal it,

Seal it for Thy courts above.

Intelligent Life in the Kennel

I awake at 2 am needing to go to the bathroom. The dogs are in a deep sleep around me, evidenced by their loud snoring. I gently extricate myself from the sheets, blankets and dogs, so as not to disturb them. I ease myself up from the mattress, letting sleeping dogs lie. Tiptoeing across the floor, I listen carefully verifying that they remain in their sweet canine slumber uninterrupted.  I continue about my business. I’m gone no more than two minutes, tops. When I return, the dogs, still snoring, have soundlessly moved in to MY recently vacated spot on the bed.

How do they do that?

The Electric Slide

I unplug my curling iron and toaster as fire safety precautions.

I unplug my cell phone charger for economic and environmental reasons, to eliminate "phantom power".

I keep my blender and stand mixer unplugged because I have a fear that they'll turn themselves on in the middle of the night.

I've been forever damaged by the horror films of my youth.

The Power of Powerlessness

When I was employed, Sundays were the hardest day of the week for me. It was the day when I was most alone, left to my own thoughts. It was the day when my feelings about those thoughts overwhelmed me and my emotions would rage out of control.

Now that I'm unemployed, virtually every day is Sunday, to this regard. Though I try to keep busy, there is still too much down time and my disatisfaction with my life, and my thoughts of failures past and present take over.

Today, on my way to church I was mulling over all my shortcomings, all my mistakes, all my sins and I was overcome by my powerlessness. I can never change the past. I can never make up for bad decisions I made throughout my 49 years. I will never be able to catch up to where I should be. And then God (gently) flicked me on the head (He does that to me sometimes) and said "AHA!" and I said in my most quiet, mouse-like voice "oh" (I do this with Him alot).

I AM powerless. My anguish comes when I think I actually have power. But I was created and adopted by God Almighty, who is NOT powerless. Not only is he NOT powerless, He IS most powerFUL. He is the only one able to actually keep the promises He makes and because of this, I can trust and truly hope in Him.

His promises weren't quitely communicated, either. He put them out there in His Word, for all the world to see and hear. He keeps His word; He doesn't have to worry about someone pointing out some flawed thinking or failure on His part. This is the one, true and perfect God here; not some fly-by-night philospher hawking self-help DVDs on TV.

A few verses come to mind:

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil,to give you a future and a hope." Jeremiah 29:11

"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights." James 1:17

"For the Lord disciplines the one he loves,and chastises every son whom he receives." Hebrews 12:6

"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong." 2Cor 12:9-10

All I need to do is remember all this tomorrow morning, when faced with the blank page that is my day.

Consider the Lilies of the Field

"And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin,yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these."(Matthew 6:28-29 ESV)

Over my 40+ years I've heard or read this verse hundreds of times. Yet, since I've been hanging out with Seedling #1 it's taken on new meaning. Now, when I think about "lilies of the field" I picture Seedling #1 running, dancing, playing...a big smile on her face; her curls bouncing, eyes flashing. Add in to the equation child-like faith and I've got the perfect picture of how life should be for believers...not a care in the world, with total trust in their Father. Now, when I hear this verse, I always smile. I feel a certain warmth in my soul when this picture enters my mind.

When I was her age and younger, I'm sure I felt this way, but I don't really remember those carefree days. I long for heaven when those days return and I get to live them out for eternity - along with Seedling #1 and all the others.

Question of the Day

Why do I believe the words of discouragement that I tell myself more readily than the words of encouragement? Why do the encouraging words sound so thin, so patronizing, so juvenile?

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words?

It's been said a picture is worth a thousand words, but pictures of me never match the thousand words that I think they should. Pictures of me never seem to portray what I'm thinking or feeling at the time. Pictures of me are never reflect how pretty, or how ugly, or how thin, or how fat I felt at the time the button was pushed. So I guess, like garage sale items, pics of me are worth a lot less than they were when originally procured.

Thoughts on Heaven

2002/2003 was a difficult time for me. The church I attended went through some terrible times and I felt it necessary to leave. My employer of 21 years closed. I had to have my dog put down. I lost much of what I treasured, what gave me purpose in the space of 9 months and I was devastated.

I have since been attending a great church where I have grown spiritually. Though currently unemployed, I had 2 jobs in this time frame, neither of which was as fulfilling as my previous one, but they provided a salary and I didn't lack for anything. I have two dogs (and many visiting ones) that I love. None of the originals have been "replaced"; they never could. There was only one Metro, one Evangelical Free Church, one Coach for that time for the person I was at that time. But...

God has promised that the losses I've experienced are not for nothing and He will replace them with something so much better - in heaven. In heaven I will have pets (yes, plural). I don't know if they will be the pets I had here on earth (Coach, Dusty, Priscilla, Grace, Dora, Lucy...) or if they will be new ones. I'd like the latter, but I'll trust God's judgement. I'll have a job, though not as a hospital purchasing agent. There will be no need for hospitals in heaven! And Best of all, there will be only one church of one mind and spirit; a church that will never have infighting, theological differences or doctrinal debates. This church will worship perfectly the one true Perfect God.

Until then, I bide my time, trusting God with the current and future circumstances of my remaining days on earth.

Tending the Garden(ers)

It's no secret that there are a lot of children in my life, though none of them belong to me. I often blog about the Barblings. As explained in a previous post, they are my best friend's daughters. I refer to them as Barblings because it's easier than typing a lengthy explanation of who they are each time. In addition, understanding the possible dangers associated with revealing names (especially those of children) on the internet, I choose to respect their privacy and use a pseudonym.

Now, during my unemployed state, I've been spending more time with a friend/neighbor/sister in Christ and her four children. They've given me some fodder for possible posts, but I needed a name for them. Today the thought struck me - Seedlings. Those of you who know me well and travel in the same circle should understand the name. If you don't, let me know and maybe I'll explain it to you.

Why I'm Single?

I appreciate a hot bath more when I'm cold to the bone. I appreciate a cool shower more when I'm dirty, hot and sweaty from working in the yard. Maybe I'm experiencing the loneliness of being single in order to more greatly appreciate the intimacy with God when I get to heaven????

Apathy

life's autumn days

filling time with "to do" list

waiting for the end

Blessed Be the Tie that Binds

Dedicated to the Kriebel Family

Blessed be the tie that binds

Our hearts in Christian love.

The fellowship of kindred minds

Is like to that above.

-John Fawcett

This hymn was on my mind during a recent visit with my friend Emily. We hadn't seen each other in over 10 years, keeping in touch via informal emails, Christmas letters (hers, not mine. I've never written one), and Facebook. But our meeting just picked up where we'd left off. Our conversations were not just filled with anecdotes and current events, but with some intimate revelations, thoughts and spiritual insights. It was such a blessing seeing our Lord at work...in each other's lives and in our relationship.

When I first got to her house, I met her son, Joe (11) who chatted a bit and played piano for me. Later, while she and I sat at the dining room table catching up, her son, David (15?) played guitar while daughter, Christie (16?) sang. Then husband, Wayne (age not revealed) joined the concert. Later, I met James (12/13?) and Will (~22?). Jon (20/21?) and Katie (19) were unavailable. Despite the time lag of our last visit, there was no awkwardness or shyness. And her family welcomed me and went about there home life quite naturally, as if strangers visit and sleep on their couch all the time. I felt at home in a place I'd never been.

I'd refer to Em as a college friend, but during our visit I realized we'd never attended college together. Emily had transferred to PSU's Main Campus by the time I was at Behrend. It was through mutual friends in the Behrend College Christian Association that we met at a fall weekend retreat. Then, those mutual friends might refer to Em or me in conversations. So it just seemed like we'd always been friends all along.

When she graduated, Emily moved to Erie for about 6 months. We hung out a bit during that time. Then I visited her when she moved to North Carolina. I went to her wedding in Virginia and visited she and her husband a time or two again. But thinking back, our real connection, the tie that binds us is Jesus. It's He that allowed us to pick up our conversation as if no time had elapsed. It's He that allowed us to meet again without stumbling and stammering, having to reintroduce ourselves, deciding on how much we could trust each other or how personal our conversation could be.

Heaven will be like this. I will meet people like Rahab, Sarah Edwards and Corrie Ten Boom and not feel inadequate. I will sit down and drink tea with CS Lewis and not be afraid of saying something stupid. Of course, I'll say something stupid but we'll both have a great laugh and he'll tell me about all the stupid things he said, as well.

Thank you, Kriebels for that taste of heaven here on earth.

Let Everything That Has Breath Praise the LORD

"Let everything that has breath praise the LORD!"

Ps 150:6

As I was reading this the other day, I thought about those things that have breath. My dogs, plants, even the creek across the street from my home. All have "breath". That is, they all have some sort of oxygen exchange. How do they praise the LORD?

They praise the LORD just by doing that for which they were created. When Grace and Dora bark at the mailman or nap on the couch, they are praising the LORD. When the trees bud, flower, drop their leaves and even when they lay dormant, they are praising the LORD. Four Mile Creek praises the LORD as it runs over the rocks and stones, traveling to Lake Erie.

None of these earn a salary. They don't review day planners trying to eke out every last productive moment in their schedule (although Dora might chew a day planner if the opportunity presents itself). Yet, on a regular basis, they accomplish just what is expected by God.

How many Franklin Planner owners can claim this?

Spring Has Sprung

The calendar may show it's still winter, but according to my dogs, spring has sprung. This is evident by the constant twitching of their noses, taking in all the new scents freed from their icebergs.

Grace & Dora's noses seem to be acting as light switches for their eyes, which brighten with every flutter of their nostrils. The lights are powered by the swishing of their tales, like the cranks on old automobiles.

Canine senses are much more finely tuned than mine, but watching their reactions gives me an appreciation and excitement for God's creation, though I cannot see, hear or smell what they do. Sharing our spiritual experiences- trials as well as triumphs-is like this. One may not understand what I'm feeling, but they can see that God is working and they can rejoice. Just as I rejoice walking with Grace & Dora as they sniff out our Father's world.