Random Thursday: Graduation Week Edition

1. Recent text message conversation with a teenager:
(transcribed verbatim)

me: Are you going to need a ride home?
boy: yes ma'am
me: Let me know when you're 15 minutes out, okay?
boy: ok homie
me: Peace out.
boy: your a old woman dont ever say peace out please
me: Whatev homeslice. For shizzle.
boy: silence.

2. In the not-so-distant past, I applied to the Blogher network.  I would very much like to be a part of this network of women bloggers, and have been working towards that goal since I started writing for all y'all.  In response to my application, I received a very nice email from them, which began with the words:

"We love your blog!"

(Insert me smiling.)

As a result of this, my business manager (aka the Wonder Hub) and I have decided that it makes sense to move from blogger to a .com website, and to pay someone to make that website look pretty. (An endeavor for which I am completely lacking in both skill and patience).  Over the next three or four months, that will happen.  My question for you is this:

Which do you prefer?

karenwrites.com
karenklasiwrites.com

And hey?  Thank you.  This wouldn't be happening without you.

3. My fingernails are too long.  I can't feel the keys on the pads of my fingers.  I can't think, even randomly.

Be right back.

4. Mel emailed last night.  He makes me laugh.  His email, with subject line:

Parchment paper!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

contained this very short message:

I did not tell you to put the pizza (and parchment paper) on the lowest rack!

I laughed then.  I'm laughing now.  So my dearest father won't sue me for defamation of character, please let me clarify.

Waaay back in 2007, in another iteration of my life, I wanted to learn how to make biscotti. Being who I am, it was an adventure that included (parchment paper and) an oven fire.  As I was telling Mel--my tutor in all things baking-- he insisted that parchment paper could not catch on fire.  As proof, I sent him the following photos:

So.

• It is a FACT that Mel (incorrectly) told me that parchment paper cannot catch fire.
• It is also a FACT that he taught me the parchment paper-pizza paddle trick for baking pizza.
• HOWEVER, please know that it was Ree Drummond who suggested placing pizza on the bottom rack so that the cheese (the good stuff, real mozzarella) will not burn in the 500 degree oven.

There, Aged P.  Your character has been redeemed.  Please don't write me out of your will, unless you intend to will me your Bob Dylan collection.

5. We're having a little party here this weekend.  You may have heard.  In 48 hours we will have a high school graduate, and the party will be ON.

As you can well imagine, I'm deep in the throes of mixed emotions.

...and that's all I'm going to say about that.

6. This party, rockin' party that it shall be, could not, would not happen without the help of my local girlfriends.  I would name their names, but I'm terrified I'll forget someone.  Instead, please hear me publicly, loudly tell them

THANK YOU!!!!

7. I'm in week three of the Beth Moore Bible study titled, Living Beyond Yourself: Exploring the Fruit of the Spirit.  This is the fourth Beth Moore study I've done, and by far the deepest.  I love. It.  I love digging in my Bible, flipping back and forth and learning exactly what God has to say about the role of the Holy Spirit in my life.  It's deep.  I'm finding that my understanding of the Holy Spirit has been shallow and immature, and in some cases, just plain wrong.

Did I mention that I'm loving this?  If you have the opportunity to gather with other women and study the Word, please do.  There is nothing like it.

Today's homework was on the kind of love called Agape.  If you were raised in a church-going family, surely you've heard of agape love.  Agape is most often defined by what it is not: it is not Eros love (named after the Greek god Eros, and generally meaning "longing and desire.").  It is not Philos love, which is the love of blood relatives for one another (often called "brotherly love.").

Beth walked me through I Corinthians 13, often called the "Love Chapter," to help me better understand what Agape is and is not.  In I Corinthians 13, every single use of the word "love" (or "charity," depending on version) is translated from the Greek word "agape."

So.  Let's be clear.
Love is:
Patient
Kind
Enduring
Protective
Trusting
Hopeful
Persevering

Love is not:
Envious
Boastful
Proud
Rude
Self-seeking
Easily angered
Grudge-holding

And here is the kicker:

Love never fails.

Agape never fails.

I can't help but think that Love sounds an awful lot like my God.

A few brief thoughts on the death of Osama bin Laden

Yesterday was a whirlwind of emotion for our country.  We celebrated victory over evil, we mourned those unjustly taken from us, we were grateful to the men who got the job done.

We debated, in our hearts and with each other.  Were we happy or were we sad?  Did we rejoice over the death of an evil man, or mourn the loss of a life?  Did we somehow have a hard-earned right to celebrate or did celebrating reduce us to the level of those who have celebrated the loss of American life?

At one point during the day I remarked to the Wonder Hub that I believed the Israelites had rejoiced when David killed Goliath.  Didn't that set a precedent for rejoicing over the death of bin Laden?  He sent me to the verses in question, in I Samuel 17, where I found no rejoicing.

What I found was this:

⁴⁵ David said to the Philistine, “You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the LORD Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. ⁴⁶ This day the LORD will deliver you into my hands, and I’ll strike you down and cut off your head. This very day I will give the carcasses of the Philistine army to the birds and the wild animals, and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel. ⁴⁷ All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the LORD saves; for the battle is the LORD’s, and he will give all of you into our hands.”

and then, when Goliath was dead, this:

^51bWhen the Philistines saw that their hero was dead, they turned and ran. ⁵² Then the men of Israel and Judah surged forward with a shout and pursued the Philistines to the entrance of Gath and to the gates of Ekron. Their dead were strewn along the Shaaraim road to Gath and Ekron.

David fought under the mighty power of Yahweh (LORD in the Old Testament is translated from the Hebrew word Yahweh, which is the name God gave Moses when he told him "I Am.").  David won the battle under the mighty power of Yahweh. David gave credit to no one but Yahweh.

When Goliath was dead, did the Israelites stop to party in the streets?  No.  With a shout, they surged forward and finished the job at hand.

I think we, as a nation, would do well to learn from David.  The battle is, and always has been, the LORD's.

Happy Day!

 (While I am lounging at the beach, my blog administrator (aka Carey) is holding down the fort.  I wrote this in 2007, and it remains just as true today.)

I don't know why, it just is! Well, actually, I do. It's a happy day because God is good, good, good. If I scrolled back through my posts (or your posts for that matter), I would take an emotional roller-coaster ride through the ups and downs that are a natural part of being human on this earth. My God, however, never changes. He is Everlasting, Constant, Patient as All Get-Out, and Sweet. Say it out loud: Everlasting, Constant, Patient as All Get-Out and Sweet. How has He been courting you lately? Tell me please, I'm dying to know. I do believe he's courting each of us, like the (everlasting, constant, patient and sweet) Gentleman that He is, but yet in so many different ways. Tailor-Made Courting. I know that He courts at least one of you through emotional experiences. He courts me that way, too, sometimes, but more often through my brain. Through the Elie Wiesel book, The Time of the Uprooted, He courted me. He showed me that He is Everlasting. That He was indeed there for the victims of the Holocaust, that He remains there for His chosen people, many of whom have never, ever sought His face. He is Eternal. Say it out loud: Eternal. Then think about what that means. Generally, I think of the future when I think of eternity. But think backwards instead. God is Eternal. He has always been.

I have been studying the prophesies of the Old Testament, have recently read a book on Mormonism, have read extensively on the Jewish people and faith, and have come to this conclusion. God IS. I cannot believe that He was once a man, as the Mormons do. It doesn't fit with his Character. I believe that salvation by faith, through grace, is the only way to Heaven. I believe that every other religion on earth seeks salvation through works. I believe that God, in his perfection, cannot be in the presence of sin, and therefore, in order to be in His presence, our sin must be paid for, eradicated, canceled out. I do not believe there is anything we can do to pay for our sin, but that we must simply accept the grace offered to us by Jesus on the cross. I do believe that the prophets, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, even David, spoke of Christ when they told of the Messiah's coming, hundreds of years before Jesus walked on the earth. I do believe that God, throughout eternity, has had a plan for the salvation of not just His chosen people, but for all who would come to Him. I believe that the bible is the true, true, true, LIVING Word of God, throughout the Old and New Testaments, that it is its own best commentary and proof, that if we would only take the time to dig in, God will speak to each of us through it.

I do not understand everything, but I understand enough to believe and to trust in the inherent, complete GOODNESS of my God. I believe, with all my heart, that His love for you is personal, intimate, and unchanging. I believe that He is courting you, and I hope that you respond and take the time to explore the depths of His love.

A few words before I keel over...

I am fa-ried.  I have been worn out by two people in their 60s.  I love them so.  When I grow up I want to be just like them.  They are a true representation of Jesus' love, people, Christians the way God intends them to be:

No judgement, ever
Speaking the absolute truth, in absolute love
Joyful, even in profoundly hard times
Serving others, and taking joy in doing so
Really, really taking joy in serving others
FUN
HILARIOUS
Loving, loving, and then loving some more
Madly in love with Jesus, having taken the time to know Him, and therefore know that He is worthy of their love

I keep thinking what the world would be like if more people were like Pastor and Fran.  If more people put others before themselves.  If more people loved like they do.

I could happily lay my body down and die from pure exhaustion, but my heart has been filled to the brim.

Lover of my Soul

Do you know that song?  It goes like this:

Jesus, lover of my soul.....

I'm not sure what comes next.  My brain hears those five words and hovers there, awestruck, while the congregation sings on.

If you saw the state of my soul you would understand why.  It's a dark, cranky place, filled with lots of me, focused on me, generally working toward what is best for me .  That Jesus could love Karen, I get.  He's God. So yeah, okay, I can conceive that He, in all his perfection, can love anyone he chooses.

But to love my soul?  To be the lover of my soul?  That indicates an active, ongoing state of love, the internal workings of which I cannot conceive.  It leaves me awestruck.  It does.

So Molly and I have been strolling the local  neighborhoods this week, attempting to photograph early spring blooms (without being arrested for trespassing) for a post about...well, I guess about what God's creation says about Him. It moves me, and I had hoped to capture it so that you might be moved, too.

(Insert apology for horrible photography skills here.)

 My hyacinth photograph--taken from the edge of someone's lawn while they stared out the front picture window at my sniffy dog and me.

Or, to grasp the point I'm trying to make, click here and check out these hyacinths.

There.  Do you see what I'm getting at?  A bunch of little flowers as a flower.  The creativity of my God knows no bounds.

My daffodil photo, a respectable representation of the message of Hope (yes hope with a capital 'H') sent to us each year in the cold, early spring.

My shamefully bad photo of a magnolia tree.  Awesome tree.  Awesome God. 

The cherry tree.  We're surrounded by them now.  Their beauty draws people to the DC area from the far corners of the earth.  I can't see a cherry tree without thinking of Isaiah 55:8-9.  

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
   neither are your ways my ways,” 

declares the LORD.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
   so are my ways higher than your ways
   and my thoughts than your thoughts."

But here is the flower that really gets me.  This is the one that I see and understand that my God is wild.  He cannot be tamed.  He cannot be wrapped up neatly and placed in a little box with a pretty bow.  Just as He is wild, so is His love for me.  He's been pursuing me since I was a child, no matter how far I've run.  His thoughts toward me are intentional, His plans for me good.

The thing I can't get past, the thing that makes my heart jump every time I see the forsythia is this:

If God is wild for me; for cranky, self-absorbed me...

If He is, in fact, the lover of my soul...

Then surely He is wild for you, too.

Surely, He is also the lover of your soul.

Ephesians 1:4

Psalm 23:6

Jeremiah 29:11

Wednesday's Post: It's All About Me

There is an idea that has been rolling around in my head, daily gathering momentum and growing in size.  I wanted to share it with you.

I've lately been struck with the difference between serving others and serving myself, and even more specifically, the difference between wanting/needing/demanding gratitude for the things I do for others, and the biblical proclamation that I should be doing everything (yes, everything) as though I am doing it for God.

The proclamation, which I believe I have known from childhood, is Colossians 3:23-24:

²³Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, ²⁴ since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving. 

I have quoted this verse to children in regard to chores and schoolwork.  It was manipulative, really, and not at all successful.  I have treated this information as if it were for others--specifically, for me to hand out to others--instead of what it truly is.

What is it?

Truly, it is a call to freedom.  My heart gets all wadded up and crabby when my people don't appreciate their hot breakfasts or rides to school/sports/social events.  I'm doing this for them, don't they appreciate me?

When I do it for the Lord Christ, for Jesus, there is no room for crabbiness.  Really, there is no room for me.  If it's all about Him, if I'm all about serving Him, then every gesture is made beautiful, and significant.  If no one here on earth appreciates it, or heck, even notices it, well who cares?

This is big for me.  I think perhaps that I come from a long line of martyrs.  You know...women who have sacrificed all for the good of their selfish, thankless offspring.  I (being one of those selfish, thankless offspring) mean no disrespect.  I see myself falling into their habits as faithfully as I bake my mother's banana bread recipe, as often as I jokingly shake my fist at my husband, identical to the way my grandmother shook hers at my grandfather.  These things happen.  

But what IF.

What if I dragged myself out of bed to whip up smoothies and sack lunches, not for the thanks of sleepy, silent teenagers, but rather for the glory of God?  What if, when my feelings are out of whack over this or that, I choose to offer up my acts of service to the Lord Christ instead of to man (or men, or boys)?  How freeing should it be to know that my every little thing is being noted and tallied and counted towards my inheritance?  How awesome to hear that "Well done, good and faithful servant" echoing backward through infinite time, from the moment of my arrival in heaven, to now.

And bottom line: how altered might my family be, were I to live that verse instead of handing it out like so much trivial dogma?

Wrestling and Limping

That's me.  I am wrestling and limping. 

Genesis 32 records the story of Jacob wrestling with God.  For the life of me, I can't figure out if he wrestled with God, or an angel of God, or with the pre-incarnate Jesus.  I want to believe it was Jesus, but I'm not sure it matters.  Whoever was physically wrestling the night away with Jacob was there on God's behalf.

Why?

Gustave Doré, 1855

I think that it had to do with sufficiency.  Jacob had been self-sufficient for all his life.  Sure, he met with God a few times over the years and had reaped the blessings of the promises given him.  Really, though, God wanted to make Jacob the father of the nation of Israel.  For that to happen, their relationship had to be taken to a new level.  Jacob had to put aside his self, and let God make him someone new.

That's me.

I do believe that God is wrestling with me.  It's exhausting.  Like Jacob, I am determined to hold on until I have been blessed, until God takes me to the next level and makes me someone new.

If you are struggling, perhaps God is wrestling with you.  Please be encouraged.  I know it's hard, but whatever happens, don't.let.go.

Wednesday, Wednesday

Wednesday needs a good title.  Somebody throw me a line here.

As is true with most of my life, the Days of the Week posts came about accidentally.  Let's just say they are a tribute to my friend Carey.  You can ask her why.

But really, it's just kind of happened this way.  For a very unstructured (ahem) person, this is a pretty good plan.  It keeps me in line.  So, in the interest of full-disclosure, Wednesday will be the day I write about "running the race."  In case you've missed it, "the race" is a reference to this verse:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Hebrews 12:1

I wrote about the verse once, here.

It has been brought to my attention that by writing only about food and cooking food and boys and all the random randomness that captures my brain, I am not putting forth me in the most honest and forthright manner.  You see, this race is my life's priority (even when it's not), and as such, it is my desire to use my words to that end.

So.  I hope you'll read on Wednesdays.  My God is up to something over here, and when He's up to something, it's always good.

Hope Happens

If the weight on your shoulders is more than than you can bear,
If winter is not only a very long season, but also a place in your heart,
If you fear the cold will never leave, and the sun will never shine on your face again,
Look at these snowdrops pushing up through the cold February dirt,
Just a stone's throw from a pile of dirty snow,
And know this:
Spring will come.
The weight will be lifted.
The sun will shine on your face again.

And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us. Romans 5:5

If ever

If ever there was a girl who needed grace, it would be me.

If ever there was a person who deserved a big 'ol slap upside the head from the Almighty, it would be me.  Multiple slaps.  Daily slaps.

Instead of the slap I deserve, I receive the grace I so desperately need.  I believe in that still, small voice because it speaks to me.  He speaks to me through His Word, through the people He has given me, through the endless tender patience of the man who puts up with me, through a vision (if you will) that showed my unorthodox family, through blood and marriage and divorce, covered in a sweet blanket that fell from Heaven.  The blanket was Grace.

This week He spoke to me through the sermon on Sunday.  Pastor Ray preached a fine sermon on the parable of the talents, from Matthew 25.  The points:

• The talents were given according to ability.  The master knew what each servant could handle, and gave accordingly.
• The word talent originally meant "balance," as in a scale.  Over time it came to be a standardized weight.  One talent equaled 6,000 denari.  One denarius was equal to one day's wage.
• The master did not tell his servants what to do with the talents he gave them.  He left that up to each individual.
• The first two servants doubled the money they were given (5 talents and two, respectively).  They were each given more.  The third (one talent) buried his in the ground.  The master used the word lazy to reprimand the servant.  The word "lazy" is translated from a Greek word that means "to hesitate."
• The lazy servant tried to excuse his behavior (or lack thereof) by saying that he was afraid.

Pastor Ray then asked me

What would you do for God if you weren't afraid?

Remember:

Whatever you've got, it's not yours.  It belongs to the Master.

What you've got, it's a lot.  Do not dismiss what God has given to you.

God blesses obedience.

Ohhhh, the pressure...

I can tell you what I won't do again.  I won't tell you that I'm going to write something deep tomorrow.  Or ever.  Talk about pressure!  This pressure has not been aided by three consecutive snow days, believe you me.  It took a whole day for me to relax, loosen up, and just enjoy this extra time with the boys.  There is nothing, nothing on this earth I love so much as a house full of boys.  I am human, though, and if I'm not careful I resent the loss of what I've come to think of as "my time."

The house is quiet for the moment.  I want to try to tell you what I learned the other day.  I think that I'll attempt to do it succinctly, rather than in some kind of brilliant prose, as I had previously planned.  No doubt God's word will be better without me in the way.

So.  The study is from Beth Moore.  For the record, I heart her.  I do.

Beth is always pointing out that God does not waste words.  He doesn't tell us things we don't need to know, and he always tells us things that we do.  This is a profound thought for someone like me, someone for whom the Old Testament was a dry, dusty wasteland of boredom.  (Please note use of the past tense form of is.)  She says this again as we're reviewing Genesis 18, verses 17-19, and 20-21.

¹⁷ And the LORD said, “Shall I hide from Abraham what I am doing, ¹⁸ since Abraham shall surely become a great and mighty nation, and all the nations of the earth shall be blessed in him? ¹⁹ For I have known him, in order that he may command his children and his household after him, that they keep the way of the LORD, to do righteousness and justice, that the LORD may bring to Abraham what He has spoken to him.”  

^{God does not waste words.  Why did He tell us that He talks to Himself?  I thought it had something to do with the Trinity (Father, Son and Holy Spirit), and it very well might, but Beth said that God is showing us that He always does what He says He will do.  Look, he does just that:}

²⁰ And the LORD said, “Because the outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah is great, and because their sin is very grave, ²¹ I will go down now and see whether they have done altogether according to the outcry against it that has come to Me; and if not, I will know.” 

And then she points to Jeremiah 29:11.

Running the race

Hebrews 12:1, which I claim as my life verse, has been running (heh) through my head today.  I guess you could say that I've been meditating on it.

I can't say meditate without feeling a need to clarify.  Meditate, in the most common, modern sense means to sit and be still, to empty your mind, and...I'm not sure exactly what.  Meditate, in the Biblical sense, is the filling of your mind with the word of God.

I've been turning it over and over in my head, this verse*.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.

The cloud of witnesses, in my mind, has always been in the heavenly realms.  I guess it might include the angels, but my thought is that it is those who have gone on before us.  Those who have also thrown off their entanglements and run with perseverance.  Those who, because of their firsthand knowledge of what lies beyond the finish line, have reason to cheer us on.

Everything that hinders is huge.  If I sat here and typed out every single thing that hinders me from running my race...yet, that is exactly what we are called to do.

Let us run.

Let us run.

Let us RUN.

Today, for the first time, I have felt the sense of urgency that phrase conveys.  I'm afraid that I've been ambling all too casually through the race marked out for me, becoming distracted like a small child in her first soccer game; like one who is unaware of the rules and easily taken by pretty sights.  I have persevered only in that I haven't dropped completely out.

I'm not certain of the composition of that great cloud of witnesses, but I can tell you this: I want to cross that line amid their cheers.  I want to cross that finish line- legs wobbling, arms raised victorious, lungs gulping for air, wholly exhausted from having RUN.

*Disclaimer: I am not a theologian.

Jeremiah 29:11

"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."

Do you know this verse?   I know it better than the back of my hand, the contents of my closet, the inside of my spice cabinet (which isn't very well, admittedly, given that I found two bottles of ground ginger the other day, as I was putting away the ground ginger).  

My mom gave me this verse in the way that the Old Testament patriarchs handed out blessings.  She had it done in needle-point for my first-born child and then framed in posters that have hung over the doorways in all three boys' rooms in every single house we have occupied.  She quoted it in times of trouble, at my many crossroads, in moments of uncertainty and on the occasion of new beginnings.

Far from becoming immune to this often-repeated promise, it moves my heart even now.  My God has plans for me!  Good plans.  Hopeful plans.

How awesome is that?  

Psalms 8:4 says, What is man that You take thought of him, And the son of man that You care for him?

Somewhere along my way, I actually opened my Bible to Jeremiah and read the verse I know by heart.  I remember being shocked at what follows the promise that was given to me (and to you!):

¹²Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. ¹³ You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.

In the context of the time that God gave this word to Jeremiah, this is God speaking to His people, the Israelites, who were in bondage in Babylon.  They were in bondage because they had turned away from their God.

In the context of my life, present day, this means that God wants to bless me, has a plan for my life, but above all wants a relationship with me.  I think it's a mistake to think that the promise of Jeremiah 29:11 is a freebie.  Living in God's blessings requires that I be in relationship with God.  I get (and stay) in relationship with God by seeking Him.  (You, too!)

The with all of my heart part?  With that, I need to ask for help.  I don't really even know what it means, to be honest.  I won't let that stop me from asking though.  I hope you won't, either.

Two Resloutions

One serious, and one not-so.  I glanced at a headline in my local paper this morning that said if you want to be successful with your New Year's resolutions, be specific.  Here's me, being specific.

Serious
I want to understand God's holiness.  I know He is holy.  The Bible says so.  In a discussion about whether God would be offended by the "Grilled Cheesus" episode of Glee!, my friend Jessy left the following brilliant comment:

"I don't think I quite fully understand what it means that God is holy."

I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.  Therefore, I resolve to seek out and learn more about God's holiness.  I'll keep you posted.


Not-So
Before beginning this post, I finished an email exchange with my CAbi lady and friend, Lorrie.  She has tracked down a jacket (that I absolutely do not need) and would like to bring it by the house tomorrow morning.  I told her to come at whatever time suits her, but to call my cell before she leaves her home.  She misunderstood, and asked if late afternoon would be better than early morning.  I paused, fingers over keys, and debated my response.  How truthful should I be?  Finally, I took a deep breath and typed the following:




I can be here at any time, but I'm likely to forget at any moment that you're coming.  If you call when you're on your way, I'll make sure to be home.

Last year, I may or may not (I can't remember) have resolved to not be such a spaz.  This year, I resolve to accept my limitations, present them frankly, and roll with it.

My Race

It's daily, that's for sure.

Sunday, it involved getting up early(ish) to take care of the morning routine and then putting on breakfast and Christmas carols and (after earnestly apologizing to several people for being such a royal grouch) decorating the Christmas tree as a family before showing up one-half hour late for church (while thinking we were on time).

Today, it has involved morning prayers muttered while still in bed, and not much else.

Tomorrow, it might be one of those days.  One can only hope.