Keep Calm and Drink Coffee

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Well, it’s Friday. I’m currently house- and dog-sitting for a very well-behaved and gentle dog named Millie.

I’m also reading a very interesting book written by a lady with autism. It’s fascinating to see her thought processes and hear how she sees the world differently than I. It’s also amazing to see how she has basically taught herself how to overcome most of her autistic tendencies.

I still think that ALL of us at some level are fundamentally broken. We all have some kind of phobias or issues that keep us from always acting normal. Some are better at hiding it than others, but it doesn’t change the fact that they are just as broken as the rest of us.

I’m so very glad Jesus didn’t come for the healthy. He came for the sick. The destitute. The abused. The abuser. The lonely. The broken. Us.

In those moments when you feel like you will never be normal and accepted, remember that Jesus doesn’t think you’re normal. He thinks you’re extraordinary.

Is God Fluffy? Questions I’ve Never Thought About Until Now

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I sat in on a very interesting conversation with some friends and a man who’s name I have unfortunately forgotten. It was surreal and made my brain hurt a bit.

The guy said that God called him on a quest. Immediately, I thought something along the lines of “They should make pills for this.” The cheese had obviously slid off of this guy’s cracker.

He said that sometimes He calls God “Master Fluffy.” That one had me scratching me head. Master Fluffy? Really?

I’m just being honest. Keeping it real, as the kids nowadays put it.

Then again, I remembered some things.

Aren’t I taking meds, too? How would I think and behave if I’d been through west this guy has been through (or even half). My cheese might be completely AWOL from my cracker.

And doesn’t God speak of protecting us underneath His wings? Doesn’t He know when the lowliest sparrow falls from the sky? Doesn’t He delight in all His children, including the ones with broken minds and broken hearts?

Most of all, didn’t God put on human skin and come to pitch His tent among us? To laugh and weep with us? To experience every bit of what we face, except without sin?

I can’t help feeling sometimes that the most “normal” of us don’t get God half as much as the ones who don’t always act and speak normally. The ones who need pills to make their minds work right. The ones who felt ugly and stupid and fat and unloveable until they understood how large a space God has reserved in His heart just for them?

To get into God’s Kingdom, you have to be like a little child. I know it means you have to come acknowledging that you are helpless without God.

I like to think it also means you need to see the world through the eyes of a child, with eyes that cling to dreams, look for fairies and pixie dust, find miracles around every corner, and never give up hoping that joy will win in the end.

Celebrate not that you are normal, but that you are unique. Celebrate that there is and will never again be anything in the world quite like you. Find joy in being “heaven’s poetry etched in lives” (Ephesians 2:10).

Then you will start out discovering Eucharisteo, finding joy and thanksgiving and grace in everything, and living your miracle.

Take it from one unique and blessed Ragamuffin.

Baseball After an 11-Hour Shift? Sounds Good to Me

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What does a normal person do after putting in an 11-hour shift on a Friday before a holiday weekend?
A. Go home and crash into a 48-hour coma.
B. Go eat my weight 1) chocolate and/or 2) fried foods.
C. Both A and B.

If you answered A, B, or C, you’d be wrong. I opted for
D. Drive to a Nashville Sounds game to hang out with my amazing community group.

Ok. I cheated. But then again, no one has ever accused me of being normal. I’m crazy and I go normal from time to time. It’s usually the worst 5 minutes of my day. Normal is not something I’ve ever been good at. Being unique is something I’m starting to excel at.

It was hot. And muggy. I sweated like a pig visiting a bacon factory. It was not pretty. For me or anyone within smelling distance of me.

The game was good. My team won and there was much rejoicing. Yay.

More than anything, I remember good conversations with good friends, good funnel cake (fried), and good memories made. Throw in some cold lemonade and an encouraging text or two and I call it a perfect night.

I am seeing God in the tiny details these days. And He’s everywhere. Like in the unexpectedly cool breeze on a humid day, grace from friends, the freedom to finally forgive myself for not being all things to all people, and good funnel cake. You just have to know where to look and how to see with eyes of faith.

I am still learning to live in the moment and love God there. No more dwelling on past regrets or future maybes. God is here now and I can only hear Him speaking if I am fully present in the present. Right here, right now.

Lord, I am here now hearing now. Speak, for Your servant is listening.

Another Monday, Come and Gone

I’m better about my attitude toward Mondays, but I still think Monday is a terrible day to have to start your week off on. Even if you are among the ranks of the unemployed (like me), Mondays still stink.

Monday is the day after the great weekend is ended and life goes back to boring normal. At least for 98% of us.

For me, Monday was a day for taking those thoughts captive. Thoughts like, “Your friends have forgotten about you,” or “Your friends have moved on and left you behind.” I’m usually more susceptible to those kind of thoughts on Mondays for some reason.

But today, I’m calling them for what they are– lies from the father of lies. I know my friends and I know they haven’t forgotten me or left me behind. They’re probably having the typical insane, crazy, 90-mile an hour Monday and just trying not to spin off the proverbial merry-go-round.

I’m choosing to believe the absolute best about them because I’d want them to believe the best about me and give me the benefit of the doubt. I’m choosing to pray God’s best for them the same today as every other day.

So, how was your Monday?

I Love the Way God Works

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I am goofy. I admit that. I don’t think normally and I don’t act normally when I’m nervous (or even when I’m not nervous, for that matter). I am wearing a t-shirt right now that has a clown on it and says, “Normal people scare me.”

While I say all that in jest (mostly), I have to confess that I love the way God works in my life. I love the way He meets me where I am, loves me just as I am, and takes what I have in my hands, no matter how small and paltry and uses it in ways that astound me. I am always amazed at what God can do in and through me when I am surrendered and available. When I am prayed up, confessed up, spiritually armored up. Even when I’m not sometimes.

I love God’s grace because I need it. I love God’s forgiveness because I would be screwed without it. I love His spirit within me, because I know deep down that I couldn’t love anything at all without Him in me. And the more I know of God, the more I love Him. The more I learn about Him, the more I sense my need for Him. All I can do is open up my hands and receive. Even my so-called giving and ministry is simply what spills out of my open hands when I am receiving.

My goal in writing this blog is for you to love God and the way He works as much or more than I do. I want you to know how He sees you and that He is not mad or disappointed in you, but how He cheers for you and is for you and is always with you. How He can take the smallest beginning of surrender and transform your life into something amazing and miraculous. A life that will reflect the glory of God and that will make it impossible for anyone to remain neutral about the God in you. Hopefully, they will be drawn to a God who can make a broken mess into a beautiful masterpiece. Even if not, they won’t be able to see your life changed and remain the same themselves.

I love that God chooses people like me to work in and with. I love that God never gives up on those He chooses. I love that God’s in love with me (and He’s also crazy about you, too). I love that God can take this blog and send it places I would never have dreamed possible and have people read it that I never would have imagined would. I love that God can take anyone at any place at any time and do anything He wants with them.

God amazes me and blows my mind every single day. And I love that about Him!

Amen and amen!

Father Abraham, the Hokey Pokey, and Other Randomness

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I have to confess something. When I was growing up, I thought the song “Father Abraham” (as in “Father Abraham had many sons, many sons had Father Abraham”) was about Abraham Lincoln. I was confused. And apparently not the brightest bulb in the lamp. Did Abraham Lincoln have many sons? Am I one of them? And what does waving my arms around have to do with anything? Am I supposed to be excited about the Emancipation Proclamation? Or Abe’s gnarly beard? Needless to say, the truth set me free . . . from a lot of confusion.

Also, the Hokey Pokey is a mystery to me. I’ve always wondered. Is the Hokey Pokey REALLY what it’s all about? ‘Cause it seems to be to be a bit indecisive and wishy-washy. Put your right arm in. . .no. . .wait. . .put your right arm out. . .no. . . wait. . .shake it all about. Seriously! Make up your mind! My arm’s gettin’ tired here! And another thing. What exactly is the part where you “do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around?” I never got that part clear. Is the Hokey Pokey turning your self around? Or is it some vague waving your hands around in the air while you’re in the process of turning?

Yes, I do obsess over very trivial and random things. I am odd. I’ll admit that, though I prefer the term “quirky.” Or “eccentric.” Heck, I’m not picky. I am completely normal, or at least that’s what the voices in my head told me.