perspective.

kate mccann ~ 2007

"The LORD is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit".
Psalm 34:18

death. disease. divorce. tragic accidents. murder. my family has experienced each of these tragedies over the course of my lifetime. the loss of a child remains unfathomable to me, but to think of one of my children being missing. abducted. vanished without a trace. . . . there are no words. i have nothing by which to compare it. it is a depth of despair only few have known and the rest of us cannot imagine.

i have been both fascinated and horrified by abduction cases since childhood. i was obsessed with the madeleine mccann case. in the months that followed, i would study every photograph, every interview, and every step of kate mccann. i would observe her in awestruck wonder, captivated by her ability to stand up straight; and to simply breathe in air.

tonight, i read the headline of jaycee dugard case. one click of my mouse and two hours of paralyzing numbness. article after article. taking each detail in, one by one. debilitating doses of sobering perspective.

most of us have had those moments. a fleeting moment in a store or in a crowded room where, for a split second, you lose sight of your child. fear and panic grip our hearts momentarily. but what if that moment yielded way to another and then, an hour, a day, a month, a year, a lifetime... jaycee dugard's mother has spent every day since june 10, 1991 gripped by the angst of the unknown.

the temptation arose to simply close my laptop, read something less dreadful and drift off into peaceful slumber, counting my blessings as one would count sheep. instead, i sat up in my bed. motionless. expressionless. i felt inclined to pray, but couldn't form any adequate words. or thoughts for that matter. something was keeping me from giving in to avoidance.

my heart was heavy. burdened. convicted. i recanted my mumblings and grumblings of every day life. the occasional self-pity over life's circumstances. difficulties of daily life spoken out loud. suddenly i regretted both the wasted oxygen and those wasted moments of my life, moments spent - even today - spent in self-centeredness instead of Christ-centeredness. moments spent viewing the world in light of my own understanding rather than the illumination of Christ.

i tried to imagine the unimaginable. the not knowing of a child missing. i walked down the hall to my children's rooms. i peeked in on their sweet slumbering little faces. i stood in each of their doorways and i asked myself what i would do if i didn't know where they were, if i didn't know if they were sad or scared, hungry or cold, safe or harmed ... dead or alive. unbearable to even think it. i thought about all the cases i had studied in the past, the parents' who had breathed their last breath still not knowing.

as i walked back towards my own room the question reverberating in my heart was not "what would i do?", but "would i still trust you, Lord?". would i? would i? i kept repeating this to myself, silently, urging my heart - or my mouth - to spring forth with the right answer: of course i would... wouldn't i? this series of questioning eventually evolved into a petition and from a petition to fervent prayer: "Lord, teach me to trust you. instill in me that kind of faith. you alone are the author and perfector of our faith. (hebrews 12:2). write across my heart faith that is immovable. protect my faith, causing it to be unbreakable. unshakable. help me to long for your provision more than your protection." (wait. were those last words my own?)

the thought repeated itself, this time out loud: "in Him, we are not guaranteed physical protection - not for ourselves - not for our children - but we are guaranteed spiritual provision in the shelter of His wings..."

Hear my cry, O God;
listen to my prayer.

From the ends of the earth I call to you,
I call as my heart grows faint;
lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

For you have been my refuge,
a strong tower against the foe.

I long to dwell in your tent forever
and take refuge in the shelter of your wings.
Psalm 61:1-4

eulogy.

so much to blog. so little time. i have several blogs in my drafts and yet, drift off to sleep before i can manage to bring one to fruition.

it is the unfortunate irony of earning a degree in what i love and yet, sacrificing what i love at the same time.

that said, i'm including my most recent assingment that i composed for my creative writing course.... forced to compose, i should say. i retired from the craft of poetry once i grew out of my teens and out of self-pity of unrequited love. i am not a poet and quite frankly, i don't aspire to be.

viewing the world through in a different light (the light of Christ) changes one's perception of everything. my goal, in terms of college assignments, is for my written words to cast that light - or at the very least, allusions of such.

the instructions were to compose a poem of twenty lines or more. the subject had to be a fire on a winter night. the poem could not rhyme, could not contain singular pronouns and had to include key words such as: ash, shadow, tip, sweep, brass, iron and sorrow.

yea. i did what i could. for your reading enjoyment:

eulogy by nadia wilder

autumn’s leaves lie buried
blanketed by ice and sorrow
once soft slivers of green blades
withered with the blooms of summer
spring is long forgotten
autumn’s splendor, irretrievable

a dark gray cloud of bitterness lingers
coating the sky in cast iron and slate
the landscape is colorless
an inanimate shadow, paralyzed

a dancing flame brings light to darkness
a lone orange glow
long wistful streaks of white twirl around
every tip of every flame
long golden arms of brass
bending outward, reaching upward

cold winds sweep the scent of smoke and ash
spreading the scent of warmth across the landscape
and with it, a sense of hope
the promise of new life.

half-built towers.

"The Christian landscape is strewn

with the wreckage of derelict half-built towers.

The ruins of those who began to build and were unable to finish.

For thousands of people still ignore Christ's warning

and undertake to follow Him

without first pausing to reflect on the cost of doing so."

John Stott, Basic Christianity

such powerful words. i often imagine my own half-built towers. so many of them. they are strewn over the landscape of my past. i read that excerpt and relive the failed construction projects of my Christianity. years of superficial faith without saving faith. my every failed attempt to truly following Christ. i could conjure up a plethora of excuses, half-hearted justifications. but what if John stott is writing to the heart of the issue, and of the core of my heart. what if, at the end of the day, and of every failed attempt to follow Him, i had simply decided it wasn't worth the cost and walked away...

Stott continues, "The result is the great scandal of Christendom today, so called nominal Christianity. In countries to which Christian civilization has spread, large numbers of people have covered themselves with a decent, but thin veneer of Christianity. They have allowed themselves to become somewhat involved, enough to be respectable, but not enough to be uncomfortable. Their religion is a great soft cushion. It protects them from the hard unpleasantness of life while changing its place and shape to suit their convenience. No wonder the cynics speak of hypocrites in the church and dismiss religion as escapism."

no wonder indeed. my heart aches as i read those words. for i have lived them. each and every one. a life behind a facade, hiding behind my very thin veneer of religiosity. and it was enough. for years, it was enough. enough to be somewhat involved. enough to be somewhat respectable. enough to be somewhat accepted by peers. i was content in my comfort and in my hypocrisy. saddest of all is that i didn't know why. and then, i heard these words:

"you cannot claim Christ as your Savior if you have not surrendered to Him as Lord" ~ David Platt

i reference these words in my public profession of faith. the day that i heard them spoken, they struck a chord deep with me - one that would continue to reverberate in the months that lied ahead. i knew in that moment, that is exactly what i had done. i had spent half of my life claiming faith in Christ, claiming to be a Christian, claiming Christ as my Savior and yet, still living my life behind a thinly-veiled facade that was far from a life surrendered.

of course, they have to edit the video testimonies for the sake of brevity. you hear me confess that being the moment that i realized i had never truly surrendered my life to Christ, but what you do not hear me say is that was not also the moment that surrender occurred. no, i wrote that phrase down in my notebook during the message one summer morning in 2008 and at the end of the service, i closed my notebook and my bible and i walked away...

in our culture and society, we have grown accustomed to instant gratification. we buy into the belief that surrendering to Christ, coming to saving faith in Christ, is an instantaneous process. i was still desperately clinging to the false belief that because i had "been saved" and prayed innumerable prayers of surrender that those words, that particular phrase, wasn't applicable to me. in fact, as david platt spoke those words, i'd likely nodded in agreement. mouthed the word, "amen"... and yet walked away with a gaping hole in my heart, a gnawing uneasiness within me and a life utterly and completely indistinguishable. unchanged.

i was walking in darkness. in the shadows of my own ruins. my own half-hearted, half-built towers. and it was there, in that silence, i would hear those words, rising up from my heart and into my thoughts. only it never sounded quite like my own voice.

for the very first time i calculated the cost of a life surrendered and a life lived selfishly. i looked around. and the landscape of my life was not completely unlike the photograph above. abandoned construction. or deconstruction. difficult to discern which. it was both. visible evidence of innumerable moments of surrender, but a lifetime of selfishness - and of ruin. and i had nothing left to give.

and yet, He was calling me, still. what, then, would be my cost? what is the cost of following Christ to the girl who, by the work of her hands, had lost everything? the answer came even as i was typing these words... "my child, i never desired or needed anything you ever had to give. i simply desired you."

fragments of my life and of myself, i had given Him. bits and pieces. countless hours i'd spent in a church pew. countless nights sobbing promises to Him that i would try and do better.

i laid down my life. i laid down myself. and when morning came, the sun rose into the sky on my new life, there were no longer shadows of darkness ... because there were no longer the ruins of my half-built towers to cast them.

oh, the blinded eyes of my heart,

through all of those years, could not see

that He simply wanted all of my life

and all of me.

He simply wanted ME. all of me. He wants all of you.

blooming late.

"[The study of] English is messy in the same way that real life is messy."

K. Quinlan - UAB English Professor

it's 2:30 p.m. and i'm in my last class of the day. creative writing. a blank piece of paper in front of me and pen in my hand. it is my first writing assignment. the instructions are to write a one page autobiography using as many literary elements as possible. my autobiography. i'm going to need a much larger sheet of paper. i pick up my pen and write:

"my name is nadia wilder. i am blooming late."

today marked my triumphant return to a college campus as a full time student. okay, triumphant is probably not the appropriate adjective. but still. i returned to college today for the first time in nearly a decade, and when you reflect on all the moments that led me to this one and combine it with the fact i have a part time job and two small children, well, triumphant may be appropriate after all.

surprisingly, there wasn't an enormous amount of fear or apprehension in me as i commuted downtown this morning. having watched chloe march so bravely off into the doors of kindergarten and into a new phase of her life last week without trepidation was very inspiring. if i can aspire to have the childlike faith in God, then certainly i can aspire for the childlike bravery of a new beginning.

oh, i had some superficial concerns. you know, like, if would i look obviously older than all of my classmates or if would i be the only "kid" on campus - or in class - without a net book. but the deeper concern - the one under girding it all - was will i remain consistent in trusting the Lord in the path He has directed or would i, even in this first day, allow the seeds of worry and self-doubt to creep in? .

it has only been a few short weeks since God shifted the direction of my studies, directing my path back towards the pursuit of my first major, English and of my first real love, writing. i had trusted Him wholeheartedly and was consequently, walking by faith. i felt peaceful contentment, assurance in Him and not in myself as i made my way towards my first class and to the front row. i prayed a quick prayer as i sat in silence. "i have no idea what i'm doing here. i have no idea what i'm doing, period. but i trust in you and while i don't have an urgent need to know your plans for me, Lord, i do have a rather urgent need to know i am following them. confirm your plans in me."

in each of my four classes, certain words and phrases spoken by my professors began to ring loudly in my head, composing a sweet song of confirmation in my heart. words like: rationalities and ideologies. phrases like: central theoretical approaches and logical argumentation; figurative, metaphorical and emotive language. while there were a few non-English majors in my midst who were likely moved to tears by boredom, i found myself moved to tears by sheer elation. this is it. i had trusted, stepped out in faith and was now in the midst of pursuing a degree in a subject that, literally, makes my heart leap with joy.

English. the word - as a major - conjures up negative and misconstrued connotations. it evokes elementary and junior high memories of grammar and language and punctuation. but English, as a major, is so all-encompassing. so multifaceted. close reading. writing. critical thinking. it is the heart of an arts & humanities major and after a near decade-long "break" from college and years spent meandering through all of my core curriculum classes, its unfathomable to me how i walked through nearly three years of college courses and thirty three years of life without realizing - or rather, remembering - how absolutely in love i am with English and writing.

"There are some future dimensions of life which cannot be planned out or figured out until we are living through them". ~ K. Quinlan, Professor of English

i am so grateful for the opportunity to return to college. so grateful for the gift of being able to study and pursue something that i truly love. despite the affinity i have developed in recent years for all things fitness related, i can't help but think of the tears of boredom that would have been brimming in my eyes and self-doubt that would've been brimming in my heart had i been sitting through physiology and algebra classes today.

instead, i end the first day back to school doing something i love - and have always loved - i'm writing. my autobiography - in synopsis form. i give a snapshot of my life so far, glossing over irrelevant details, hitting the highs and the lows and God's redemptive hand in all of it. i'm writing fervently. furiously, even. my pen is racing to the end of the sheet of paper. i have only a tiny space to finish:

"every moment in my life has led me to this moment, to this day, when i would return to college at the age of thirty three. seeds have been planted throughout my life, the Lord has fertilized the soil of my heart. this flowing fountain of knowledge will rain down on me and i... i am ready to bloom!".

it is my prayer that i bloom for the glory of Christ.

"Whatever you do,

work at it with all your heart,

as working for the Lord,

not for men."

Colossians 3:23

proclaiming His name

click here to see the video of my public profession of faith and baptism:

http://www.brookhills.org/gathering/baptism_videos.html#w

its two a.m. in the predawn morning of the day of my baptism. sleep has completely escaped me. my heart is beating wildly at the thought of what is to come.

i cannot remember the last time i felt such eager anticipation. i'm not certain that i ever have, really. the only remotely similar feeling in my memory is what i felt as a child on Christmas eve. only today, i've already recieved the greatest gift of all. later in the morning, i will have the privilege of sharing it with my friends, my family and my faith family.

baptism, in and of itself, is a public profession of faith - one that is long overdue in my life. as david platt defined it, "a joyful declaration that you belong to Jesus Christ." for me, it is that and more. it is truly symbolic of what He has done in my life: i have been buried with Him in baptism and raised to walk in the newness of life in Him, with Him. it stake in the ground, a bold and radical declaration of my life from this point forward being totally and completely committed to following Jesus Christ. it is a permanent marking in the timeline of my life, one that will divide my unbearable past from my unbelievable future in Christ.

i close my laptop and my eyes and i can feel the tears starting to build. i am overwhelmed with awe of this great love. i am overwhelmed by God's faithfulness. humbled by His relenteless, furious pursuit of my heart that spanned the course of nearly thirty-three years, ultimately delivering me from a life of sin and rebellion to a life of true surrender. to this very day - to this very moment in my life where i would stand before scores of people - including those nearest and dearest to me - and proclaim His name.

every single facet of His spirit is radiating within me. his love. his joy. his peace. his patience. his kindness. his goodness. his gentleness. his faithfulness. truly, on this day, i will give thanks to the Lord and i will tell of all his marvelous wonders. (psalm 9:1)

i am filled with godly sorrow for all the years i lived as a runaway and am in awestruck wonder of all He has planned for me as His child. there are just no adequate words. brennan manning comes very close in this passage from his book, 'the furious longing of God':

"The gospel is absurd and the life of Jesus is meaningless unless we beleive that He lived, died and rose-again with but one purpose in mind: to make brand-new creations".

"...Not to make people with better morals, but to create a community of prophets and professional lovers, men and women who would surrender to the mystery of the fire of the Spirit that burns within, who would live in even greater fidelity to the omnipresent Word of God, who would enter into the center of it all, the very heart and mystery of Christ, into the center of the flame that consumes, purifies and selts everything aglow with peace, joy, boldness, and extravagant, furious love."

"This, my friends, is what it really means to be a Christian. Our religion never begins with what we do for God. It always starts with what God has done for us, the great and wondrous things that God dreamed of and acheived through Christ Jesus."

i couldn't have said it better myself. :)

love. will wait.

"Wait for the Lord;

Be strong, and let your heart take courage;

Yes, wait for the Lord."

Psalm 27:14

i missed the whole "true love waits" phenomenon in our contemporary christian culture by a few years. i had started attending church my sophomore year of high school and by the grace of God, avoided falling into relationships where i was pressured to compromise my purity. had the true love waits merchandise been around at that time, i'm quite certain i would've clothed myself in it, parading my purity as if it were some prolific banner of righteousness. it would've complimented the self-righteousness. you have to remember that, at sixteen, i equated my christianity and my salvation with my performance, so my choice to remain pure had to be earning me some huge brownie points with God, right? um, wrong...

"Pride precedes a disaster, and an arrogant attitude precedes a fall." Proverbs 16:18

it would be another sixteen years - and one divorce later - that i would find myself single again. in the wake of divorce, i expected things would be different here, you know, in adulthood. instead, i find myself in the midst of a culture (and a dating scene) that is eerily similar to that of high school, with all of the same pressure and confusion and no parents setting curfews or laying down rules. there is the same societal pressure, this ambiguous, unspoken expectation that every woman should be with a man and that if she's not with a man, she should be actively looking for a man and if she's not actively looking for a man, then she is just waiting on the right man. this is prevalent even among the Christian circles. everyone is looking for someone and if you're not, clearly, something must be wrong with you.

it is the story of our culture and of our media and of our animated fairy tales. we buy it hook, line and sinker and we sell it to our children. we buy into the belief at a very early age that we need a another person to complete us, that true love with another human being is what will make us whole, that we need someone to write the ending to our story so we can live "happily ever after".

sweet friends of mine, what if i told you, He already has?

what if the world has so twisted and deformed the truth of God's love, we have become overly eager to substitute it with romantic love? what if we have this whole thing backwards? what if this is the reason that young women give in to promiscuity? what if this is the reason we live in a culture plagued by broken hearts and broken homes?

the truth is, we do someone to make us whole. to complete us. to write the story of our ever afters. and that someone is God in the flesh, Jesus Christ.

He had pursued my heart with such intensity that i knew He wanted all of it; and all of me. when i surrendered my life to Christ, i turned in my heart along with it. obviously, the one i had was broken and yet, i was still trying to give it away, piece by damaged piece. when i received my new heart, i knew that it was no longer mine to share. and for the first time in my life, i began to learn the beautiful sufficiency of Christ. what if he'd redeemed my having lost everything to reveal this one great truth, that He really is all that I need.

[and please note, i'm not implying that He orchestrated the loss of my life as i knew it. no, i took care of that on my own by way of a little thing we like to call free will. we like that phrase more than we like sin. you know, it just sounds better.]

but in the midst of my loss - and my lostness, He found me. He called me home and He called me to remain in Him and in Him alone. maybe for a season. maybe forever. and i can honestly say, to me, it matters not. God, in his infinite grace, has taught me the same lesson He taught [my good friend] Paul who shared with the church at Philipi when he wrote:

"I've learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I'm just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I've found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am." Paul's letter to the Philippians (4:12 msg)

and so i bought myself this ring, the one in the picture. black and silver with two phrases engraved on it: "true love" and "will wait". this ring is not a reminder, it is a delcaration that true love will wait. i am aware, painfully aware, that this may seem a bit strange for a 32 year old, divorced mother of two children. but i'm willing to let the haters hate. at this stage in my life, it has much greater implication than its face value. it is not merely a reminder of God's will for sexual purity; but a declaration that He is the One True Love and in Him, i will wait. for everything. He directs my path and my heart. i am not waiting on God to provide me with a man. i am not living in the hope or waiting for some sort of future fulfillment that will come through a relationship with another human being.

i read a beautiful quote: "a woman's heart should be so wrapped up in God that he has to go through Him to get to her." the moment i read that, my heart - the new shiny one inside of me - lept. i believe that. i believe we are far too accustomed to manipulating our own lives, especially our "love lives" according to our own will, and then hoping and praying God will get on board with it and if we sense He might not be, we turn an apathetic shoulder to Him... until we find ourselves alone, wondering where we went wrong.

the ring, in and of itself, has turned out to be a great conversation piece. it provides the perfect opportunity to share God's story of redemption in my life and immediately declare where i am in my life and in my walk with Christ. in social settings, i've found it humorous - no, make that hilarious - to watch the eyeballs of men suddenly gloss over the moment i make reference to God. Christ himself, who called me to this season of my life, becomes my shield and men flee, literally flee, at the mere mention of His name.

true love will wait. His love is the only true love. it is patient. it is unwavering. above all, it is sufficient and it satisfies my soul. in this love, His love, i will wait for whatever He has planned for my future.

live freely. love freely.

laughing with friends ~ august 15, 2009

"My counsel is this:

Live freely, animated and motivated by God's Spirit."

Galatians 5:16 (MSG)

there is no part of me left that has been left unchanged by God's grace. much like a father does with His a young daughter, in one sweeping motion, He scooped me up into His arms and for the first time in my life, i didn't resist His embrace. for the first time in my life, i didn't struggle to break free. and for the first time in my life, i did not feel the familiar urgency to run away and reject His love any longer. i do not know why. i do not know how. all i know is that i have not been the same since.

my personality is such that people when i encounter people i haven't seen in five years - or in twenty - they always comment that i am "exactly the same" as they remember. this can be construed as either a compliment on my cheerful demeanor or as an insult on my level of maturity, either way - both probably hold some truth. the latter evidenced by my late night chats with my best friend, steffi, usually via facebook or gtalk. they are filled with hysterical laughter, phonetically spelled words and acronyms that only we can decipher. if anyone had transcripts of those chats, they'd be shocked to discover that we are thirtysomething women - and not thirteen year old girls.

at first impression, their assumption is right: i still talk too much, laugh too loud, and i'm likely to call you out by name, even if you're the kid who was bagging the groceries i was ringing up when i worked at a grocery store in high school. yet now, when i encounter people, new acquaintances and old friends alike, there is a new burden in me to share Christ and yet, a new ignorance as to how. i am a new creation and yet, still me.

i went to 'art on the rocks' at the birmingham museum of art the last night. it was the last one of the summer and although i hadn't planned to go, an opportunity - and an extra ticket - came up at the last minute. so my girlfriend and i got dolled up in lip gloss, new dresses and heels and set out for the city. i was a little apprehensive about it. for one, i doubted my ability to maintain both my posture and footing in 3 inch strappy hills [and i did struggle with both]; and secondly, i had not been "out" in the midst of that caliber of a social event setting since God radically changed every facet of my life, internally and externally.

in the past, you know my past - the one tattered with inconsistency many futile attempts at self-righteous religion - i would've scoffed at secular socializing while compiling my own little list of do's and don'ts and then strictly enforced myself to stick to each of them with fervor, all while proclaiming (read: preaching) to others to do the same. small wonder why that never worked out for me ... or anyone else, right?

freedom in Christ. i'd read about it all my life, but never experienced it until recently. paul's letter to the galatians explains it perfectly. i love paul. as in, the apostle paul, former persecutor and murderer of Christ-followers totally redeemed by the grace of God. living, breathing, radical proof of the unfathomable love and grace of God; the same unfathomable grace available to you and to me. apparently, the people of galatia weren't completely unlike me: they had tried and failed to stick to rules and regulations in order to gain both the approval of God and others. as i read it earlier, it was if he had written it to me:

"dear [nadia], when you attempt to live by your own religious plans and projects, you are cut off from Christ, you fall out of grace. meanwhile we expectantly wait for a satisfying relationship with the Spirit. for in Christ, neither our most conscientious religion nor disregard of religion amounts to anything. what matters is something far more interior: faith expressed in love...

my counsel [to you, nadia] is this: live freely, animated and motivated by God's Spirit. then you won't feed the compulsions of selfishness. for there is a root of sinful self-interest in us that is at odds with a free spirit, just as the free spirit is incompatible with selfishness. these two ways of life are antithetical, so that you cannot live at times one way and at times another way according to how you feel on any given day. why don't you choose to be led by the Spirit and so escape the erratic compulsions of a law-dominated existence?" [your friend, Paul] Galatians 5:13-17 (msg)

live freely. love freely. motivated by God's spirit. and choosing to be led by the Spirit. walking into such a crowd last night, i found that living freely, loving freely and being constantly motivated by God's spirit in this new heart of mine came naturally. almost effortlessly. oh, i had lots of superficial, social chattering. i still talk too much, laugh too loud and incite my guy and girl friends alike to spew beverages from their nostrils in laughter. but, as i found out last night, when my glossy, giggly surface is scratched, it is His spirit and no longer my own that comes pouring out.

Luke 6:46 says, "for out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks." my heart, you know, this new one that He has given me, it is overflowing with His story of redemption and consequently, it is what pours from my mouth. my faith is expressed through love, His love in me and through me and extends through me as i love my friends with the same abandon He has loved me with.

at the end of the night i realized, in hindsight, how needless my apprehension had been. for He is not simply with me, but in me. and finally: freedom in Christ. i am free to live for Him. free to share His love through my faith. if i could, i would like to write a letter back to paul, and it would be three words long: i. am. free.

Through you the blind will see

Through you the mute will sing

Through you the dead will rise

Through you our hearts will praise

Through you the darkness flees

Through you my heart screams, "I am free!"

I am free!

~ newsboys lyrics

a day of firsts

chloe's first day of kindergarten ~ 8.13.09



"Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good." ~ Psalm 136:1

since i've already written about the anticipation and anxiety leading up to this day, it is only fair that i write about the actual experience of the morning, this first day of kindergarten.

at last, our lazy days of summer came to a screeching halt at 6:30 a.m. a very rude awakening for all of us. i had tried to mentally and physically prepare them, tucking them both in by 8:30 - nearly an hour earlier to what they'd grown accustomed to in recent months.

in addition to our usual bedtime prayers, i prayed with chloe (or rather, for chloe) specifically about today, the beginning of a new normal for all of us. i asked her some questions about kindergarten, hoping to incite some material for journaling, but her answers were all surprisingly matter-of-fact, although she did make mention of wishing that her puppy could go with her and suggested they could have a puppy school inside the elementary school. she also suggested, this morning, that perhaps she start sleeping in her clothes...

we stopped at starbucks to pick up her favorite: their blueberry muffin with a box of organic apple juice. as we drove closer to the school, i worried that she (or that i) might grow more anxious or nervous, but instead, all three of us seemed to grow more excited. i had expected car rider line to take a long time, you know, give us some more time to talk and prepare and soak it all in. instead, car rider line was moving like a well oiled machine.

she was so precious. so very brave. so very excited. there was not an ounce of fear or apprehension in her eyes as she put her school tote on her shoulder and checked her cute little purse to make sure Giraffo was tucked safely inside. "okay, this is it!" i said. i'm grateful i was able to snap a quick photo... just before she slammed the door in my teary eyed face and parker's curious, sleepy stare. "i want to wave at you," she said. and so, as we were pulling away from the curb, she gave us a big smile, and a big wave and then, pink purse in hand, marched right into the doors of elementary school.

it all happened so fast. the blink of an eye and she was gone ... out of my car and into a new phase of her life. just like that.

to my surprise, i didn't shed any tears. my eyes brimmed with tears of joy, excitement and relief that she had done so well, shown such bravery. the independence she had mustered up overnight was still palpable, permeating the interior of my car - and parker, although still half asleep, was soaking it in like a sponge. "i'm going to school by myself," he said. i misunderstood, "yes, chloe is at kindergarten now, so you got to preschool by yourself now with mommy". we pulled up to the preschool, which does not have a car rider line, and i open his door to let him out and walk him in. he looks at me, obviously discontented: "no, mommy, i'm going to school by myself!".

suddenly, i realize what he means. he doesn't want me to walk him in. he doesn't even want me to get out of the car. "well, i have to sign you in at the front, but if you want to walk to class by yourself, you can". after i sign him in, we step into the foyer and i say, "are you sure?". he nods and marches off down the hall to his class. i stand there - partially from shock, but also because i know my parker and he has never shown such a willingess with preschool. i wait, peeking around the corner, feeling absolutely certain as he gets to the door, he will have a moment of hesitation or change his mind altogether. he doesn't look back. i peek around again... and he is gone. the blink of an eye and he was gone, out of my reach and into a new phase of his life, as well. just like that.

i walk back to the car. tears that were merely brimming my eyes before are now streaming down my cheeks.

and i'm reminded of the verse i used in last night's blog: "You have made my life no longer than the width of my hand. My entire lifetime is just a moment to you; at best, each of us is but a breath." Psalm 39:4

the milestones in our lives and our children's lives are bittersweet reminders of the brevity of life, the fragility of life and the urgency to cherish every single moment.

for me, today, is also a sweet reminder of the promise of new beginnings, God's redemptive plan for our lives and His ability to make our lives - no matter how fleeting or at times, failing - to count for the His glory, the One who give us life.

adaptations, kindergarten & redemption

me and chloe ~ february, 2004

"God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea..."

and our children go off to kindergarten...

of course, a blog about kindergarten is requisite. i've had this one saved in my drafts all week. i inserted the picture and then laid my head down on my keyboard to cry. i'd think of how i wanted to begin, open up the draft, take one look at the picture and lay my head back down. i can remember rocking chloe in her nursery when she was a week old. she was tiny and i was sobbing. literally sobbing. i had never felt so vulnerable, so utterly helpless, so absolutely terrified and filled with so much joy, all at the same time. i was overwhelmed with emotion. holding that sweet baby girl, looking into those big brown eyes, it was the first time in my life that i felt my heart was no longer beating within me, but living and breathing and resting in my arms.

and so tomorrow, chloe will head off to kindergarten, carrying my heart with her and i feel the same vulnerability and helplessness that i did when she was a newborn. it is the same angst that so many mommies are feeling tonight. our babies are growing up. we are getting older. kindergarten marks one of our first major lessons, in parenting, of loosening our grip, all in preparation for that dreadful day when we must learn to let go.

its the night before kindergarten. but it isn't all thats on my mind - or my heart - tonight. its four days before my baptism. six days before i return to college. . . major life changes are swirling all around me, filling me with bittersweet anxiety. i have never adapted easily to change. i was traumatized by changes in my childhood and am constantly filled with angst as i perceive my children's lives through the tainted lens of my memories.

kindergarten is a milestone, like so many others, where we are reminded of how fleeting our time really is. it is a moment that forces us to pause in reflection, in awestruck wonder of how five years passed by as if they were mere seconds. (pausing to lay my head on my keyboard a bit longer...)

“You have made my life no longer than the width of my hand. My entire lifetime is just a moment to you; at best, each of us is but a breath.” -Psalm 39: 5

in those moments of reflection on our past, we can't help but examine the present and it is then i become aware of how different the landscape of my life is from what i'd planned for this season. having been traumatized divorce, remarriage and a move by the age of eight, i had always envisioned the milestone of my children beginning school as somewhat of a mark of permanence in my life and theirs. i envisioned that we would be, by that time, in the home that we would spend a lifetime in; the home that they would grow up in, come home from college to visit us in; the home built not with bricks and mortar but with love and stability.

during moments such as these, there are no methods of escapism and the reality of my life and the lives of my children in contrast with what i once hoped - and what i once had - is heart wrenching. i have no candy coated words in which to make the reality easier to swallow. no smooth, consoling words to make it easier to hear.

like everything else, i have to lay this burden at His feet. my heart's desire was to lay foundations of stone in the lives of my children, and yet, i had given them sand. i wandered from a garden into a sun scorched land. the past is difficult to reflect upon and the consequences of my present are often difficult to live through. but God... "He turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise." (Psalm 40:2-3) and as i read His words, i knew, the same promise is true for my children.

He is the solid rock on which i stand and just as David Platt said recently during the series on Ruth: "Jesus comes to save during the worst of times, by His grace he has pursued us. Jesus alone guarantees the promise of restoration."

He brings His people from bitterness to happiness; emptiness to fullness; despair to hope. He uses our pasts, even those marked by sin and failure, and redeems it for His glory.

"Sin from your past does not dispel hope for your future. Therefore, we do not look towards the unbearable past, but we look towards the unbelievable future". ~ D. Platt, Ruth Part 4

pieces of my past are unbearable. pieces of my present are difficult. but my future, in Him, unbelievable.

His story of redemption is being written across humanity and across my heart - yes, even as it goes off to kindergarten in the morning.

a new heart.

"I will give you a new heart.

I will give you a new spirit that is faithful to me.
I will remove your stubborn heart from you.

I will give you a heart that obeys me."
Ezekiel 36:26

this Sunday, i am making a public profession of faith through baptism. i love the description that was given during a message on baptism earlier this year that says it is "a joyful declaration to the world that you belong to Christ". at my church, there is a brief (read: 90 seconds) recorded video testimony and public declaration that is shown just prior to the baptism. i went in last week to tape mine, curious as to how the Lord would lead and enable me to squeeze the past seventeen years of my tattered inconsistency into a mere ninety seconds. "are you a new believer?" daniel, the videographer, asks as we we make our way up the stairs to the taping room...

that is a loaded question.

(one that i had been asking myself [and God] an awful lot lately.)

there is a tiny little church on one of the country roads winding out to my mom's house. i've passed it thousands of times by now and each time, i'm reminded of a message that was on their sign once when i was a teenager: "if you don't live it, you don't believe it".

in the years that followed, when i clearly wasn't living the gospel, i would find myself questioning whether or not i believed it. each time, i would conclude that i did, in fact, believe. i believed in God. i believed in the bible. why, exactly, that belief wasn't evident in my life... i couldn't put my finger on... and frankly, i never spent too much time trying to. after all, i was totally "saved", right? by grace? wasn't that, my faith, all that was required?

had i ever stopped to examine - really examine - what salvation meant, apart from the "getting to go to heaven" aspect of it - i might have become aware, painfully aware, that i - myself- did not possess it. there is a difference between superficial faith and saving faith. and the difference, is not only where you will spend eternity, but how you will live your life on earth...

"You can profess publicly what you do not possess personally." D. Platt

then, in adulthood, there were those seasons in my life where it looked - and felt - as though i was living it... a former pastor posed the following question to the congregation frequently, "do you know... that you know... that you know?"... there was never any real clarification [that i can remember] as to "how" we were supposed to know. in my mind, i had reduced it to a matter of believing... or not. you had prayed the prayer or you hadn't. i would always nod. because what i knew was that i had walked that aisle. i had prayed that prayer. i had "invited" Christ into my heart. joined a church. attended church. read my bible. prayed. i did all of those things. you know, sometimes.

what i did not know, and would not know for years to come is that Jesus Himself established none of those things as the basis of salvation. i had spent so many years assuming my salvation without any biblical foundation. i believed i was "saved" strictly because of all the things that i myself had done wihout any evidence of what Christ had done *in me* or *through me*. my futile attempts were my own works, not His. my countless attempts to change myself were forced by my hand rather than surrendered and changed by Him. i could vividly remember the day that i walked the aisle and prayed the prayer, but i could not remember a single point in my life that had marked the beginning of a new life, a new me, a new heart. there had not been any lasting internal or external transformation of my life because i had not ever truly surrendered my life.

"We have traded internal transformation for external regulations and traditions". D. Platt

we have both complicated and candy-coated the truth of God's word so much that we ourselves can be deceived into thinking we are something we are not. we should do away with the questions like, "are you a christian?"; "have you been saved?"; "have you invited Jesus into your heart?"... the real questions, the ones i faced at the age of 32 and the ones that Jesus Himself said would be the mark of our salvation is "Are you a Christ-follower?"; "Do you follow Christ?"; "Does His word determine how you live your life?"...

as i was faced with those questions, i could no longer nod my head in agreement reflecting on things i had done. . . because there was nothing - absolutely nothing of me or in me - that was evidence of such. walking an aisle at fifteen certainly wasn't evidence, here at 32, that i was actively following Christ or walking in obedience to His word. instead of nodding my head in agreement, i shifted nervously in my seat.

by all appearances and admission, i was a "Christian", but i was certainly not a Christ-follower. i had "invited" and "accepted" Christ into my life and yet continued to my life at my own will, by my own accord... and still giving God some credit here and there. i had simply made Christ a part of my life when i desperately needed Him to be my life.

"When you have biblical salvation, Jesus' words determine how you live." D. Platt

i will never forget the day that David spoke those words. it was march 2008. notice he did not say "should determine". there was a quiet unsettling among us, unseen but not unfelt. in hindsight, i imagine there were scores of people sitting there who - just like me - had thought that they knew that they knew - and in that moment, no longer knew....

confusion swept over me. or was it conviction? and i was not alone. emails flooded the church office the following week. questions. complaints. rumors of works-based salvation being taught swirled in different circles. it was evidence of how many of us sat in that sanctuary, sunday after sunday, with the same old hearts... hearts that were unpenetrated by the gospel. hearts that had yet to be turned in. hearts that were still waiting to be surrendered.

he quoted Jesus in Matthew 7 where Jesus (speaking to "religious people" not completely unlike us) says, "Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not [enter your own list - walk the aisle, pray the prayer, be good people - here]?' Then I will tell them plainly, 'I never knew you..."

Jesus wasn't saying that his people simply "had" to be obedient to His word, living lives of bedgrudging obedience. He was saying that His people, His true followers, the ones with whom were filled with His spirit, would DESIRE to be obedient to His word, they would LONG to be obedient to His will. some of the people in the crowd that Jesus was speaking to scoffed in confusion and disbelief.

at that moment, in march of 2008, i was doing the same thing. "the gift of salvation", david continued, "is a NEW HEART and it is one that no longer delights in sin but delights in the Lord".

i was struggling. wanting to surrender and not knowing how. longing for true surrender and yet, fearing it. longing for God's love and yet, rejecting it. it was a crisis of belief and i did what i always do when facing fear and discomfort. i ran away. i returned. and ran again. but the seeds those truths had planted were growing, even as i was running...

i had constructed my confidence, my assurance of salvation on false foundations of intellectual knowledge, religious involvement, a guilty conscience and perhaps, most of all, a past decision. true salvation is not a passing moment of surrender, but a lifetime of surrender. oh, it fills me with such sorrow to see how very little i understood - for so very long - about true salvation and the true grace of God. it is not about our works, but His work in us. it is not about forcing our hearts to be obedient to His word, but about our new hearts - filled with His Spirit - that delight in His word and that long to be obedient to His word.

"You cannot claim him as your Savior if you have not surrendered to Him as Lord". D. Platt

i settle into the chair in the taping room. it's dark. daniel sits in chair diagonal to me, creating an angle so that i am looking at him conversationally rather than directly at the camera. "my name is nadia wilder and i am 32 years old. i thought i became a Christ-follower at the age of 15..." i begin...

as we finish the taping session, i think to myself, no - i am not a new "believer". i am a new follower of Christ. this i know (that i know that i know) not because of anything i've said or done, but because He has given me a new heart.

"I'll pour pure water over you and scrub you clean.
I'll give you a new heart, put a new spirit in you.
I'll remove the stone heart from your body
and replace it with a heart that's God-willed, not self-willed.
I'll put my Spirit in you and make it possible

for you to do what I tell you and live by my commands."
Ezekiel 36:26 (MSG)

it just so happens (my path - part two)

"In your heart you plan your life,

but the Lord decides where your steps will take you."

Proverbs 16:9 (NIRV)

this verse can often be taken out of context. matthew henry's commentary explains it like this : when God's glory is our goal, and His will our rule, then He will direct our steps by his Spirit and grace. again, Praise God that He is now the director of my steps, my path, my life.

[if you missed the previous blog, you'll want to start here: part one.]

i had a little over a year left on my BA in Communications/Public Relations when we moved to Atlanta in 2001. college was, like everything else, something i felt i was supposed to do. and, like so many other things, i did it half-heartedly and was quick to abandon it when my life as a full time wife/mother began. that said, i had laid the groundwork for my return to college early on this year. i changed my major to health/fitness, reapplied for student loans, pre-registered for fall. it was a done deal. in the months that followed, as i began - for the very first time - to truly surrender my life to Christ, i didn't give school a second thought. after all, i had already decided what i was going to do. not only that, but it was the first and only in time adulthood that i'd felt i had made a firm decision about what i wanted to do. God would totally be on board with that, right?... right?

i didn't dare ask Him. in hindsight, the fear that He might not was too great...

"Trust God from the bottom of your heart; don't try to figure out everything on your own. Listen for God's voice in everything you do, everywhere you go; he's the one who will keep you on track." Proverbs 3:5-6

as the semester drew nearer, my uneasiness intensified. what began as anticipation had slowly turned to anxiety and anxiety to dread. the longer i ignored - and justified - my unease, the more intense it became until at last, i prayed about it. at this point, it was - literally - the only facet of my life i had not completely surrendered. i prayed something along the lines of: "really, Lord? really? because, you know, i already have this figured out, plus school starts in, like, four weeks! so if you could just give me some peace about it, that'd be great! and you know, i'm sure you can bless me and use me in the health/fitness thing because our bodies are our temples and all that, right?".

((silence))

God speaks to us through His word, through prayer, through the words of Godly friends and sometimes, through tiny impressions that His Spirit presses upon our minds and hearts when we reflect on the words we speak to Him...

as i waited for His answer, i waited for the knots to untie in my stomach. instead, they seemed to intensify and conviction swept over me. i reflected over the prayer i had just blurted out, not completely like the spout on a boiling kettle of water... only in my reflection, what had spewed out as statements to the Lord in my prayer were now questions to myself: "i already have this figured out?"; "i surrender to you, Lord but meanwhile - i invite you?... to come and be a part of my plan for my life?"...

i laughed out loud. literally. a sigh of both relief and disbelief with laughter at the sheer absurdity of my prayer in hindsight.

"Lord, i confess my selfish desire to control my own life. we have all seen my track record with controlling my own life. i don't trust myself to make new plans. i confess my need for you to do that for me. align my heart with yours, my desires with yours and my life accordingly. and if need be, change my plans according to your will."

the specific answer did not come sweeping over me in that moment. but the sense of peace did.

a week later, sitting in my advisor's office, she glanced over my transcripts and my schedule for the fall. "are you absolutely certain about this [this meaning the change of major i had made earlier]?", she asked, almost incredulously. "well, actually, I'm not", i confessed, "that's why i'm here". "i wouldn't advise deviating from your progress towards your current degree unless you are absolutely positive this is what you want to do." she went on to explain what i - in my haste - had not discovered, which was exactly how many of my credits i was going to lose, how much more time it would take and concluded with proverbial nails in the coffin on that plan, 18 of them to be exact: i would need an additional nine credit hours of math and nine credit hours of science. the two subjects that, frankly, i'd rather endure the pain of a thousand tiny paper cuts that have to go through. math and science were the reasons i was an "Arts & Humanties" major to begin with.

i was suddenly 17 again. figdeting nervously in the chair in the advisor's office, weeks before fall semester begins, having no clue what i was doing. only at 32, i'm probably the same age as the woman sitting across from me. "well, what do you enjoy?", she asked. at 17, i couldn't have answered that one so confidently. "i love writing, but hated journalism. i love photography, but am bored by the technical aspects of it and i do love fitness, but feel called in an opposite direction. oh, and i love blogging. can i major in blog?" she studies my transcripts once more. "English..." she said. I couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement. i reiterate my disdain for journalism, forced subject matter and fiction.

"well, it just so happens..." she begins.

this is it. i don't know how i know, but i know. just weeks ago, as we studied the series of Ruth, David Platt spoke of the providence of God and used the illustration of their son Caleb's adoption: "it just so happens", he began, "that God had not allowed us to conceive and it just so happens that we began to pray about adoption and it just so happens that God spoke the country of Kazakhstan and it just so happens that David & Heather, after being displaced by hurricane Katrina were now living down the street from a family who just so happened to helped facilitate adoptions from... Kazakhstan".

she continues,"that UAB's Department of English is now offering a new concentraion for English majors, it's called Creative Non-Fiction". its not majoring in blog, i thought, but its the next best thing. "and the best part", she says, "is that all of your Public Relations coursework can become your minor. all you have left is your major courses. you could graduate next December."

shut. up.

and so, it just so happens that i am returning to college at thirty-two. it just so happens that i surrendered my life to Christ just prior to returning to college at thirty two and it just so happens that, even as everything changed as that journey was about to begin, i have complete and total peace about it. in fact, i am thrilled! and when people ask, "what are you going to do with that?" my answer is the same as it would've been at 17, "i have no idea"...

but God does.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD,
"plans to prosper you and not to harm you,
plans to give you hope and a future.
Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me,
and I will listen to you.
You will seek me and find me
when you seek me with all your heart."
Jeremiah 29:11-13

directing my path - part one

"In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths."

Proverbs 3:6 (NKJV)

there is a steadfast peace that comes through surrender. sweet relief from the overwhelming knowledge that you are no longer in control of your life. which, in my case, while frightening - is also a great relief because, let's be honest, i wasn't very good at directing my own life. when we begin to relinquish control and put our faith and trust in the One who controls all, everything changes and something amazing begins to happen. He begins to change and rearrange not only the interior of your being, but the exterior of your life. God is not interested in just the overall details our lives, but the intimate details... and true surrender involves laying all of it - the good, the bad, the ugly and the utterly confusing - at His feet.

next week, our little chloe starts kindergarten and i, in keeping with a common theme in my life these days, begin again - where i began fifteen years ago - on a college campus. my relationship with higher education isn't completely unlike many other relationships in my past: tattered with inconsistency, periods of long abandonment and belated resolve. when began college in the fall of 1994, i had no idea what i wanted to do. i only knew that i loved to write and that i completely detested all things associated with math and science.

the following may, i moved to Dallas for the summer. it was a hasty decision incited by heartbreak and - in classic nadia behavior - i had packed my bags, loaded my car and ran away. at nineteen, i had already established my coping mechanism for painful situations. at summer's end, i returned home more broken than when i left and again - in typical nadia behavior - i had a season of surrender stemming from despair. in hindsight, that would be the only time that i actually prayed specifically about school and consequently, the only time i would have a sense of direction in my life. i enrolled for fall '95 and declared what would become the first of my (several) majors: English.

then, life began to happen. caving to the peer pressure of wanting my own place and all that came with it, i started working full time for an insurance company and going to school full time in the evenings, then part time, then every other quarter. six months later, i met chris and the dreams [or rather, notions] of college and/or career quickly faded, yielding way for my dreams of a big, shiny ring and our big, shiny life. i should note that God was nowhere to be found at this point in my life. not to imply He wasn't there, but that i wouldn't acknowledge His presence. i was too busy planning my life... and my wedding.

and so, in may of 2000, we stood - in a big, shiny church - in front of 200 people, reciting vows, quoting scriptures, making a covenant with God - the same God whom we had never bowed our heads to pray together as a couple to; the same God who's word i had only picked up sporadically, if at all, in recent years and the same word we had never read together. but we were "christians" by both admission and appearance and that day, we laid the foundation of our lives together on sand. sinking sand.

"Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand." MT 7:24-26 (NIV)

my life was constructed on sinking sand. the moment i left God and set out on my own, i laid the foundation for my adulthood. i had become aware of God's presence in my life as a teenager, but in adulthood, i had continued on a path laid by my own hands, paved with stones of selfishness and disobedience.

from where i am standing now, looking back, i can still see that old path, stretching back as far as my eyes can see, rubble on either side of desolation. and in that moment of reflection, the words of Isaiah (48:18) become my reality: "If only you had paid attention to my commands, your peace would have been like a river...". yea, and my past, maybe not so much like death valley...

but that path, and that valley, by God's grace, ultimately led not to destruction, but to redemption. and this is the grace of God: His redemptive plan on the grand scale of humanity - and on the minuscule scale of our individual lives (yours and mine) - is breathtaking! He is writing His story of redemption across humanity and across our hearts simultaneously. John Piper wrote, "God names who He will have and moves the earth to bring them to Himself". i love that. "He moves the earth". for some, it may be a tremor. but, for some of us, it requires a literal earthquake to shatter the walls of disbelief. somehow, for those wounded, distrusting souls like mine, we have to lose everything before we become willing to allow Him to be our everything, redeem our past and have complete control over our future.

when we trust Him, everything changes... because He changes everything.

(...to be continued)

what we need...

I have some blogs in my proverbial hopper, some of which will detail the way that God has changed my heart over the course of the last few months, moving me from a life of total selfishness to one of total surrender. his pursuit of my heart began long before i knew Him and continued through the years that i thought i knew Him.

i am convinced that there are many, like me, that have fallen prey to the deception of our modern-day, contemporary christianity, having beleived that their salvation and Christianity was derived from having walked an aisle, prayed a prayer, joined a church or having lived life "trying" to be a good person. Jesus said none of those things.

The message below just might change your view of Christianity and your life...

Lifeblood video: LIFEBLOOD4_VID"LifeBlood Series - April, 2008: What is the Gospel? Answering this one question is indispensible to knowing what it means to be a follower of Christ. The Gospel has ramifications for each of our lives for all eternity, yet many professing Christians have less and less of a grasp on what the Gospel really is. Based on the words of Christ, could it be possible that scores of people involved in church are not actually followers of Christ? How do we know when we have truly trusted in the Gospel for salvation, and how do we avoid deceiving ourselves when it comes to life’s most important question? Find the answers in this all-important series on the lifeblood of Christianity."

unspoken truth

view from my car - 08.03.09

"God's glory is on tour in the skies, God-craft on exhibit across the horizon. "

Psalm 19:1 (MSG)

I grew up with an innate curiosity about God. Even in my early childhood I can remember quietly whispering prayers to Him in my bedroom, petitioning Him for some sort of confirmation that He was real, wanting some sort of visible, tangible proof of His existence. Faith in something unseen did not come naturally for me as a child. I would find myself still praying that prayer almost a decade later, as a teenager. Most of what I'd learned at that point was pieced together from songs my sweet Granny had taught me or fragmented bible stories I'd learned in preschool at church.

I vividly remember one night in my pre-teen years, lying in a field outside my aunt's home in rural Pennsylvania. The field was slanted slightly, providing the perfect recline for viewing the expansive sky and starry nights. I stared up into the darkness. It was sprinkled with glittering, twinkling stars in every direction as far as the eye could see. . . and still, I whispered that old, familiar prayer, "God, show me that you are real". In the naievete and distrustful wariness of my youth, the eyes of my heart were not open and it would take another twenty years for me to see that was exactly what He was doing:

"Lift your eyes and look to the heavens: Who created all these? He who brings out the starry host one by one, and calls them each by name. Because of his great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing." - Isaiah 40:26

When the eyes of your heart are opened, you become burdened for others with a burning desire to pry open their eyes with your own hands, your own words... but it is something that only God can do and - as I can attest - it is in His own time and in His own way. We cannot force the eyes of others to be opened, but we can say to them "Look up & listen, for His unspoken truth is being spoken everywhere!"... and so, I say to you, LOOK UP!

"God's glory is on tour in the skies,

God-craft on exhibit across the horizon.

Madame Day holds classes every morning,

Professor Night lectures each evening.

Their words aren't heard, their voices aren't recorded,

But their silence fills the earth:

unspoken truth is spoken everywhere."

Psalm 19:1-4 (MSG)

can i get a witness?

Sweet Gran (my stepmother's mother - well technically, she is my former-stepmother's mother, but i'll save those details for one of my "dysfunctional family blogs")... I digress, sweet Gran turned sweet 95 this past week and we were invited to a weekend-long celebration in Point Clear. It was sort of like a three day wedding, you know, complete with a pool party, a cookout, a cocktail hour, a dinner party and a big family brunch on Sunday. I had been dreading making this trip alone with the kids, but felt it was important for them to see this side of our family, especially my Dad and brothers, who we don't get to see very often. I consoled myself by reminding myself constantly that it was a quick trip. You know, only a four hour drive... Oh, how I wish....

The drive down was horrendous. Hear me, horrendous! Literally. I am not kidding. Seven long hours; one stop for disciplinary action (within the first hour); two stops for potty breaks; two torrential downpours (I'm talking rain so hard that all of the vehicles had on flashers and I was, literally, praying out loud to God to keep us safe); an accident that had us in a total standstill for a half hour' and then, two very close calls of our own - one in which my car was (apparently) in the blind spot of an SUV that was changing lanes and missed the front end of my car by inches and the second - I completely lost control of my car and fishtailed across the interstate. Fifteen seconds of the worst fear I have ever felt, followed by tears, shaking and a solid fifteen minutes of the most heartfelt prayers I have ever prayed. Believe me when I tell you that country song, "Jesus Take the Wheel" has an entirely new meaning to me now.

Thirty minutes later and three hours late, we arrive at the hotel. Yeah. You can imagine what I'm looking like at this point. After prying my fingers from the wheel, I stepped out of the car into the sauna-like humidity. My hair, which had been the only feature remaining intact from morning preparation, went "POOF" in an instant. Not completely unlike a chia pet. Only much faster. You know, like the commercial speed of growth: "chachacha CHIA!" To make matters worse, we then had to hop a golf-cart shuttle to the pool area where the late afternoon "grown ups' cocktail/kids' pool hour" was already in full swing.

My family [some of whom I have not seen since my teenage years - and some new ones, by marriage, whom I'd never laid eyes on] were all gathered at a large table on the covered patio area by the pool. They are relaxing, laughing, enjoying conversation... and here I come: hot, sweaty, frizzy, red-eyed, tear-stained, stressed out, loaded down with my purse, camera bag, tote bag on one arm; the other arm extended to hold Chloe's hand and Parker is hanging, literally hanging, on my right leg. Oh, and he's crying.

What is that they say about first impressions?

I have no recollection of what my actual facial expression on my face - or theirs - must have been as I wobbled up to the table, threw my bags down onto a smaller table nearby and declared, "I need a drink!!".

Oh, how I wish I were making that up.

Within few minutes, my kids were happily splashing in the pool, I had stopped sweating profusely, had pulled my unmanageable chia-hair into a clip and was eagerly waiting for my frosty, fruity drink. I could see the waiter coming, carrying his little circular tray: a cold, bottled beer perched on one side and there, right across from it, my frosty, fruity concoction - complete with a pineapple hanging off the side. I couldn't wait. He was moving too slow. I jumped up from my chair, ran towards him and in one sweeping motion, swiped the drink and took a ginormous, brain freeze-inducing sip. "Um, I'm not your waiter," he said. I looked him - dead in the eye - hoping he'd sense my desperation - as if it were not vividly written across my tear-stained, sweaty, brain-frozen face. "You have to give me this drink," I said. "You just have to." And he did. I would've probably worried about whether or not I had frightened him, but my brain was hurting too bad.

A little while later this same sweet kid came to check on me and we struck up a conversation. I read somewhere (probably on a piece of Facebook flair) that: "strangers are just friends waiting to happen". While I'm not about to teach my children that motto, I do want them to know that every single human is loved by God and desired by God. God purposes us to be witnesses of His love - strangers [to Him] are simply waiting [for our witness] to happen. The lost are waiting for someone, anyone, to share God's love. They are waiting for a light to pierce the darkness. We are the light of the world. (Eph 5:8-10)

For this guy, the Jamaican server who comes to the US during the season to work at The Grand, the wait ended through a hot, sweaty, stressed out mess of a woman. A simple conversation about events of the weekend evolved into one of the most in-depth, theological discussions - and perhaps the most passionate sharing of God's redemptive work in my life - that I have ever experienced. He has a pretty remarkable story, having grown up being forced to attend church and later resenting it. His mother is a Christian and his father is a devout Jehovah's Witness and he, by his own admission, was torn between the conflicting faith of his parents. I opened my mouth to speak, but after the ride I'd just been on, there was no way the words that flowed so eloquently and effortlessly out of my mouth were my own. Admittedly, I am ill-equipped to challenge or debate theological differences. I am, however, not ill-equipped to share God's love and to encourage those who are lost, who think they are found and those wandering in between to seek the Truth that lies in John 14:6 where Jesus says: "I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes through the Father except through me".

I looked at this kid, the one who just an hour earlier I'd practically assaulted to swipe a drink from his tray and summed up our chat by saying, "Here's the deal, I cannot tell you with any authority what is "right or wrong", but there is One who can. I know Him and even better, He wants to know you... and when that happens - when you know Him and you trust Him - He will turn those indefinable shades of gray in your heart to black and white, revealing what is darkness and what is light. I don't know much, but I know this: "You will find Him if you search for Him with all your heart and all your soul." (Dt. 4:29)

I settled back in my lounge chair, watching the kids play. Really? Really, God? Did that just happen? I thought back across every moment of my horrendous journey and every moment that had led to that ONE... and was consequently, rendered speechless.

We do not have to run out and seek those to whom we need to share God's love. He places them directly - and indirectly - in our path. And yet, we slam the door in the face of the lost when they come knocking, literally knocking on our front steps. We run away from the dirty, the poor, the afflicted, the "less than desirable". we run because these are the ones that reflect outwardly who we are ourselves on the inside, apart from Christ. of this, i am living proof. and these - both inward and outward clothed in rags - are the ones He came to redeem. yes, every single one of us.

I shuttered to think of the inestimable opportunities squandered over the decades of living a life completely enveloped in my own selfishness. Unable to share this unfathomable love because I, myself, had been too blind, too hard-heartened, too selfish to accept it.

"Do not call to mind the former things, Or ponder things of the past. See, I am doing a new thing." - Isaiah 43:19. Praise God for doing a "new thing" with me, in me and in my life.

I looked at my children again and thought to myself, if there is one thing I am going to teach them about strangers, it is not to slam the door in the face of Jehovah's Witnesses when they come knocking. But to invite them in, give them a drink and become a witness to them of the One True Love. He opens the eyes of our hearts to see, the ears of our minds to hear and our mouths to speak His truth ... If only you let Him... that our lives are not for our own pleasure, but for His glory.

"But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." Acts 1:8

This unfathomable love of God knows no racial, religious, cultural or socioeconomic boundaries. It is limitless...

But are we?