Bridges Giving Way

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“When bridges seem to give way, we fall into Christ’s safe arms, true bridge, and not into hopelessness. It is safe to trust! We can be too weak to go on because His strength is made perfect in utter brokenness and nail-pierced hands help up. It is safe to trust! We can give thanks in everything because there’s a good God leading, working all things into good. It is safe to trust! The million bridges behind us may seem flattened to the earthly eye, but all bridges ultimately hold, fastened by nails. It is safe to trust.” (Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are).

Lately, it seems that chaos is in control. I read recently about yet another mass shooting, this one in Las Vegas on the last day of a music festival. I wonder yet again why someone would want to fire a semi-automatic into a crowd of people.

It seems more and more that death and natural disasters are becoming the norm, and security is an illusion.

Then I read the last page of the Bible. The last page doesn’t end with “and they all died.” It doesn’t end with “they tried to make the best of a bad situation.”

The Bible ends with God making all things new. Or as C. S. Lewis put it, the end is in reality the true beginning of the real story, of which all of history was merely the title and the table of contents. This real story goes on forever and each chapter is better than the one before.

This present story is filled with heartbreak and sadness. The story that’s coming will be about how God wipes away every tear from their eyes and how there will be no more sadness or weeping or death.

So I say, “Come, Lord Jesus. Until then, be with us in the midst of turmoil and hardship and suffering. Be with all who mourn. Be our safe bridge to cross when all the world gives way.

Amen.

The Return of October

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Once again, October is upon us. We’re entering yet again into my favorite time of the year.

Today was a pleasant reminder of why I love this month so much with the very fall-ish weather. I could almost smell the pumpkin spice in the air (though my personal preference if I have to choose is the salted caramel).

I’m completely aware that this is still the wonderful state of Tennessee and the warmer weather is far from done for the year. I expect there will be a few more days of 80+ degree weather (though hopefully no more 90+ days).

Still, the advent of October means that Halloween is on its way, and after that comes Thanksgiving and Christmas. October means bonfires and changing colors of leaves and crisper temperatures.

My one and only gripe about October is that I wake up in almost complete darkness. It looks and feels like midnight and my body doesn’t want to get out of bed. Still, I’ll take that if it comes with all the goodness that October brings.

Happy October, everyone!

Three Months Later

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Three months ago today, I went into the Williamson County Animal Shelter hoping to pick out a kitten after my Lucy had crossed the rainbow bridge 9 days earlier.

It was a bit overwhelming at first, as there are so many kittens and cats in need of good furr-ever homes. I actually took a few kittens out and played with them to see how friendly and playful they were.

I had it in my mind that I wanted the cat to purr when I picked it up, but none of the cats I looked at did that. Maybe they were nervous or shy, but none of them seemed overly friendly.

I had a little male tuxedo kitten picked out and ready to take home. He was in the carrier and all that was left was for me to sign the papers and he’d be mine. Or I’d be his. I’m still not sure how exactly that works.

That was when I heard the most heart-wrenching piteous mew. I turned around to see a little black paw reaching to me from a cage behind me. I saw this little tortie kitten begging me to take her home.

I went over to the cage and she reached out and stroked my hand. She was purring. I knew then and there she had picked me to be my next cat. The tuxedo kitten went back to his cage with his mates and was probably adopted later to another good home.

I found out that my little tortie had been found stranded on I-65 when she was rescued. To this day, I don’t know if she was alone. I don’t know if she was actually on the interstate or in the median between the two sides.

All I know is that she rescued me. She gave the love I had for Lucy a new place to go.

The old saying is still true. God does work in mysterious ways, but I’m learning that those ways always turn out way better than my ways and my plans ever could.

Here’s to what I hope will be at least 17 years with Peanut, my little tortie.

 

Encore

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“Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, ‘Do it again’; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, ‘Do it again’ to the sun; and every evening, ‘Do it again’ to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we. The repetition in Nature may not be a mere recurrence; it may be a theatrical ENCORE” (G K Chesterton).

I’m all for maturity, but I believe in some cases we would do well to grow younger. Not younger as in acting childish but more like having a childlike wonder and awe.

God, for all the wonders and miracles you did in days of old, we say to you, “Do it again.”

God, for all the mercies and grace you have lavished on us today, we say to you, “Do it again.”

God, for every time you give us not what we deserve or have earned but what Jesus has earned for us, we say to you, “Do it again.”

May we never tire of God’s great mercies or grow weary of His unfailing love and grace toward us. May we be as astonished at our own salvation with each passing day as we were the day before.

God, as you have faithfully acted throughout all our days and nights, do it again.

 

 

More Magic Movie Moments from the 80’s

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I finally got around to this 80’s classic. It only took 30 years, but I found this little gem on Netflix and decided to take a break from Sons of Anarchy for a trip down Nostalgia Lane.

The movie features a young Patrick Dempsey, better known to most people these days from his role on Grey’s Anatomy, and Amanda Peterson, who sadly passed away in 2015. It also stars the red-headed kid from The Burbs, but in a much less creepy role.

What I expected was a bit of light romantic comedy fluff done 80’s style. What I got was a lot deeper and more meaningful treatise about the price of popularity versus the ultimate freedom in being true to yourself.

The movies I like and tend to gravitate toward are movies I can relate to, and I could certainly relate to this one. Patrick’s character starts off as a bit of a nerd, buys his way into popularity, loses himself, and eventually . . . well, I’m not big on spoiler alerts, so you’ll have to find it on Netflix to find out what happens.

There’s something magical about a good 80’s movie. I can’t put my finger on it, but I know that it’s missing from most of the newer movies I’ve seen. Maybe it’s that 80’s movies have a kind of fantastical quality that, if not completely realistic and believable, is fun to visit for a while.

I just may be forced to break down and buy this one on blu ray to add to my already ridiculous movie collection.

 

I Need a Vacation from My Vacation

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I loved my vacation with the family. It was great and a good time was indeed had by all. But I need another vacation to recuperate from the previous one.

I need a few days where I can hibernate in a hammock with only the occasional bathroom and food breaks. No television, no radio, no smart anything. Just that hammock and a good long book. And the periodic coffee beverage.

I also want to eat all the chocolate my grubby little hands can stuff into my face without getting fat. In other words, I can’t always get every little thing I want and it’s probably a good thing I can’t. Not everything I want is good. Or beneficial. Or realistic.

In the mean time, I will settle for one very comfortable bed where I can hibernate. Until 5 am tomorrow morning.

Pleasant dreams, everyone.

 

 

Beginnings and Endings

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“The underlying premise of this book: the splendor of a human heart which trusts that it is loved gives God more pleasure than Westminster Cathedral, the Sistine Chapel, Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, the sight of ten thousand butterflies in flight, or the scent of a million orchids in bloom.” (Brennan Manning).

I’m always a little sad at endings. Today was the end of my vacation, and while I know it can’t go on forever (or I’d be broke and fat) I still get a little sad knowing that the experience is coming to and end.

Still, I have some good memories (and a few good photos) to cherish from the past five days. Plus, I got some really snazzy hiking boots.

Every day you get to be alive in has a beginning and an ending. No matter how good or bad or indifferent the day is, it still only lasts 24 hours. While some days seem longer, they’re really not.

Every day you get to be alive is another opportunity to choose. You can choose to be grateful for what you have or envious over what you don’t. You can choose to give thanks or grumble. You can choose to serve the Lord or chase after the latest tin god that’s fashionable for a season. As Bob Dylan said, “Everybody’s gotta serve somebody.”

So, tomorrow is Tuesday. Hopefully, fall weather is on its way.

And as a reminder, once you understand that you are the beloved of your Heavenly Father and start living out of that, every day gets better. Not perfect, but better.

 

My Vacation Ends in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .

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Today was the last full day of my 2017 Smoky Mountains vacation. Yes, a good time was had by all. Including me.

I believe I’ve stored up enough good memories to carry me along until my next vacation, whenever that may be. 

 I saw some reminders of the fire that tore through the area last year, but thankfully, a lot more managed to escape unscathed. I’m especially thankful that the main part of Gatlinburg where all the shops and restaurants (including the Pancake Pantry) are wasn’t burned.

My thoughts and prayers are still with those who are still rebuilding their lives and their homes a year later, long after the media has largely forgotten about them. They still have a long way to go to get back to any sense of normal.

But I believe the people here are strong and sturdy. They will survive. They will carry on. It will take a lot more than a fire to kill the spirit of te people of Gatlinburg, Pigeon Forge, and the rest of Sevier County.

In the midst of all that, I’m grateful to still have a place like this to come to for vacation and create new and lasting memories.

Thank you for making my vacation great.

What Would Brennan Manning Say?

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“The Christ within who is our hope of glory is not a matter of theological debate or philosophical speculation. He is not a hobby, a part-time project, a good theme for a book, or a last resort when all human effort fails. He is our life, the most real fact about us. He is the power and wisdom of God dwelling within us” (Brennan Manning, Abba’s Child: The Cry of the Heart for Intimate Belonging).

Tonight, I had a semi-crazy notion. I wondered, “What would Brennan Manning say about all the political mess we’re in where we seem to grow more divided every single day?”

He might have a few strong words for a President who uses his office as a kind of bully pulpit to shame and mock those who disagree with him. He might bemoan the alm0st complete lack of compasion coming from the so-called religious right.

He also might have a few words for those whose motto was “Love trumps hate,” yet in turn mocks and jeers the current President and whose anger borders on hostility.

He’d say that Abba’s children should be a prophetic voice that cries from outside the political spectrum, whose message is that Jesus loves each and every one of us (even the Trumps of the world) as if we each were the only ones to love. He’d say that no one is beyong the reach of the grace of God.

I believe he’d say that kindness and compassion are way more fitting of a child of Abba than name-calling and fear-mongering. He’d remind us that our ultimate allegience is not to a political party, platform, or ideology, but to the person of Jesus. Not to a flag, a president, and a nation, but to a King and a Kingdom.

“Whenever I allow anything but tenderness and compassion to dictate my response to life–be it self-righteous anger, moralizing, defensiveness, the pressing need to change others…I am alienated from my true self. My identity as Abba’s child [a child of God] becomes ambiguous, tentative and confused” (Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel: Good News for the Bedraggled, Beat-Up, and Burnt Out).