Cold Beauty

Once upon a time in a faraway land, there was born a special girl to a poor farmer’s family.  The farmer and his wife waited so very long to have a child. The farmer's wife would cry as she saw all the mothers with their children.  She also noticed that some of the children and their mothers were rotten.  On the outside they looked fine, but inside, in their heart, they were full of selfishness, greed, and just plain ugliness. One night this poor farmer’s wife prayed for a child, and she asked that God would give her a child with a special heart, not selfish or rotten like the other children in the town, but a special heart that could make others better by her love.

This poor mother waited, for what seemed like eternity, for God to answer her prayer. Summer came and went.  Winter came and left.  Spring came and the hope of a child had almost gone with it too, when the happy farmer’s wife realized that she was carrying her beloved and waited child.  She was over joyed.  The house could not contain her excitement.  The city could not hold it either.  She ran until her legs could carry her no more, to the country, to an open field, and celebrated by dancing and singing.

Eight months went by, as the mother waited patiently for her daughter to be born.  She knew the time was getting close.  The day was unseasonably cold, the coldest day in the year, and she was trying to keep warm by the fire, when she felt a pang in her gut.  Her child was coming, and she was early.  There was no time to prepare, the farmer’s wife rushed to find her husband, and told him to call for the doctor.  There in her own house, her beloved child was born.  She was a beautiful baby girl, with deep brown eyes.  The mother thought that she could see her daughter’s heart beating in her tiny chest, and she knew.  She knew that the Lord had answered her prayer of making her heart special.  The farmer’s wife named her daughter Cold Beauty, to represent the day that she was born.

Cold Beauty lived with her mother and father, and they loved her very much. Her mother treasured her, and the beautiful heart that lie inside her daughter.  Strangers would look on Cold Beauty, and their heart would warm.  It wasn’t long before many strangers were coming to see Cold Beauty, people who had been suffering for years, who knew that Cold Beauty could make their heart warm again.  This made the poor farmer’s wife’s heart happy that her daughter had such special power.  As word about Cold Beauty grew; however, so did greed.  Unscrupulous people began to offer the farmer and his wife money in exchange to keep the child.  Her parents vehemently refused, but still the greedy people did not give up.  Soon, they were trying to steal the child and take her away.

Cold Beauty’s parents feared for Cold Beauty’s life. They knew the only way to protect her was to take her far away.  For over a year they tried to keep Cold Beauty hidden, but their efforts did not prevail.  And although, it would break Cold Beauty’s mother’s own heart to give her up, she knew this was Cold Beauty’s only chance at survival.  At night in a dream, the farmer’s wife was told to take Cold Beauty to a place that housed special children and kept them safe. Only those with a pure heart were allowed to enter their walls.  This special place was guarded by a force of love, and only special people could live there. 

Over time, the special care takers helped Cold Beauty grow a cover over her heart, which would allow her to live securely among ordinary people.  This cover allowed Cold Beauty to only use her power to warm others hearts when she chose, and she could do it without them knowing that it was her who had warmed their heart.  To change a heart is a slow process, and so Cold Beauty lived with the special care takers and other special children for a period of over a year.  She was grateful for the love and care that she received, but Cold Beauty missed her mother.  This posed a significant problem, for while Cold Beauty’s power has evolved, it did not make the people in her town forget her importance.  Cold Beauty’s only chance to know the love of a mother and father was to live with another family that knew nothing of her power.  The care takers searched high and low for a family worthy of Cold Beauty.  They conspired together and wondered what kind of family would make the best family for her.  One caretaker said, “They should have enough firewood to always keep Cold Beauty’s heart warm.”  Another said, “They should have children already, so that Cold Beauty will have brothers and sisters with which to play.”  One said, “They should have a field nearby that Cold Beauty can pick fresh flowers in the Spring.” And lastly, “They should have a pet, that Cold Beauty can snuggle with at night.”  And they were all in agreement.  They searched and searched.  At times, they thought that there was no one to whom they could entrust Cold Beauty’s special heart.  But at last, they stopped on a house, and they realized this family was the perfect match.  Not only did they have plenty of firewood, and a nearby field, not only did they have other children, and a family pet named Dob, but they also had another child with a special heart, and they loved her and protected her already.

This was the perfect family for Cold Beauty. Yes, here she would be loved, and protected, and her special heart would be guarded from all harm.  And that is just what happened.  Cold Beauty grew into a lovely young lady, and then into a lovely woman, and then into a lovely mother of a special daughter of her own.

The End

Roots

It's the roots that make moving hard. The moving experience is comparable to the process of a plant being transplanted from one patch of ground to another.  As a plant and the dirt around it are dug up, inevitably, roots are left behind.  The plant still survives, but small pieces of the root system are left in the ground where it once resided. These roots will deteriorate into the soil around them, but not for years after the living part is gone.

This is how I have come to understand the process of moving.  When I put roots into the soil of my community, a part of me dies when it is time to go. As much as I would like to retract all of me, and carry it with me, a part of me remains. I emerge in the new location different than I did in the last. I've grown, but I've also suffered loss. I dread the process. It's not physical pain, but it is real.

I look at the other plants next to me, the ones that stay rooted, and it's hard to tell them, "This piece of ground doesn't fit me anymore.  I'm leaving, and I'll never be back." And of course, there are the potted plants. The ones that never put down roots.  They live in their self-contained environment, and don't get mixed with other's dirt. These are the quickest to tell you that moving doesn't hurt, because it doesn't hurt them.  But they never grow.  How can they? There's not room for growth in a pot.

I long for a permanent ground where my roots will always stretch to new lengths.  Until that time, I will continue to leave a part of me behind, and recover in the next soil long enough to move again.

Walls

I have more than I need.  Way more.  That is the overwhelming thought since yesterday.  After church  my husband started explaining something he felt called to do.  He explained all the way around “it” before he told me what “it” was.  I hate it when he does that.  Just get to the punch line; I don’t like to be kept in suspense, it makes me feel vulnerable.  He had a dream… God kept putting this idea on his heart… He felt like it was required of him… God had blessed him so much… (And I realize, I’m keeping you in suspense now, sorry!)  He wanted to buy some ingredients from the grocery store and hand them out to homeless people downtown.  There is no shortage of homeless people in Hawaii.  Seriously.  I guess if you are going to be homeless, this would be as good a place as any. 

I was good picking the food out at the store, and providing a solution when lunch sacs weren’t an option.  I was excited as the bags were being put together by my kids in the back seat.  I was happy as we were driving into homeless land, and right up until the point that my husband said, “….get out of the truck.”  The full sentence was something like, “Let me drive around and get a feel of the situation before we get out of the truck.  I want you (talking to the kids) to talk with the people and you can say whatever you want when you hand them the bag, “God bless you” or “Jesus loves you.” That’s when I got a knot in my stomach, and fear started rising.  Couldn’t we just drive by and hand the bags out of the window? 

We did do that for the first couple of bags.  The first man was living in a tent with a lady, and he was appreciative of the bag.  He let us know that he was going to win the MMA fight with a prize of $25,000 and he was buying a plane ticket back to the mainland in a couple of days. (Since you weren’t there, I’ll let you in on a secret, he really wasn’t.)  We passed out a few more bags to people who were walking by themselves.  My husband was scared of a crowd rushing over to our vehicle.  Then we circled around a park and handed out bags to two men.  Tyler, Whitney and I got out while Drew was just a few feet away in the truck.  One man motioned that he didn’t need a bag.  He told me, “I’m good,” smiled, and gave me the shaka sign. It made me laugh.

We still had 11 bags left.  My husband drove around to a place where a large group of people were sitting in front of a building.  I’m not sure what the building was, maybe a shelter?  We saw a bus from a church we visited dropping several people off.  Drew parked at the nearby gas stationed and we walked up the sidewalk handing out bags.  Ladies were the majority of this crowd, and a few children. 

We gave the bags away to the much appreciative ladies.  They smiled, said thank you, and some said, “God bless you.”  I had to fight back tears, and summon my voice to speak.  It wasn’t easy. They were so raw.  The look in their eyes said that they were proud of me, for wanting to connect with them.  But I am ashamed, because I am afraid to connect with them.  I am not open, I don’t have to be on display at all times.  I can hide.  I cannot connect to them fully, because I live behind walls, and they do not.

Benjamin

I cried again today over Benjamin.  I loved him; he had my heart.  This little boy, not even a year old, filled an empty spot in my soul.  I wish I knew what it was.  I would go buy one, or make it, and keep it with me everyday. I fill the emptiness by giving to others, but I give out of an empty heart, not a full one.  I know that there is more, and I almost had it.  My question now is, "What next, Lord?" I know I am going through the desert place, the valley of the shadow of death.  What do you want to accomplish by me being here? Take me to the desert rose, show me the next step.  Shape me, mold me, as I melt into the vessel of Your choice. As I wither in the heat, re-create me.  I know it is coming.  I know my tears are not wasted on You.  You are victorious, and I am not defeated.  I wait on You.  I wait until you show me the next step.  This empty place in my heart, you will fill, and you will stretch it, to love beyond what I thought possible.

Cesspool

I’m so mad I could spit.  Actually, I’ve calmed down a little, but I was so mad I could spit.  I didn’t know why, but as I cleaned out the pool today, I got this feeling of gloom and doom.  The pool was so dirty, and it wasn’t getting clean with the vacuum, and I just felt despair.  Just as I was about to give up and throw the hose over the fence, I looked.  I mean my eyes finally focused on the object in the middle of the pool.  I had been cleaning all around it, but paying no attention to it.  It was a baby pool.  Not just any baby pool either, but the baby pool that had been sitting in our yard for nearly a year and a half.  The one that has collected rainwater, leaves, and dirt at various times in the year, not to mention mildew/mold in selected spots.  Yes, this filthy, disgusting collector of all organic material was floating in my pool!

What nonsense to think that I could try to get my pool clean with this cesspool floating around in it.   Of course the bigger question is, how did I miss it?  Why didn’t I think, “There is a dirty, rotten thing floating in my pool and I need to get it out, quickly!”

My pool is symbolic of my life.  It’s so easy to see that my pool is dirty, but so hard to focus on the thing that is causing it.  It’s easy to see that I’m not experiencing all that God has for me, but so hard to open my eyes to the sin that is causing it to be that way.  LORD, open my eyes that I can see to remove the log in my eye, or in this case, the baby pool in my pool.  Have mercy on me, LORD, a sinner.

It's About You

When you love someone, truly love someone, you want their good above your own.  This level of commitment is not for the fainthearted.  It means doing without so that the one you love can do with more.  Scripture depicts this process as dying to one’s self.  Hear the word: for God so loved the world, that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.  God loves us.  Us!  It is about us, because that’s what it’s like when you deeply love someone, it’s more about them than you.  When we love God, our focus is on pleasing Him, and our relationship becomes reciprocated.  We reach a level where we become God’s friend.  He is so patient with us, though.  His love is faithful even when we are not.

He didn’t wait until we were ready to love Him back to love us first, and He still doesn’t. Thankfully, our actions have no bearing on His love, for it says, “While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”  Christ laid down his life for others, and we can choose to follow in His example when we lay down our lives for others.  Loving Christ means that we seek the good of others above the needs of our own.  The cool thing is, that when we are seeking to love others, God is seeking to provide for our needs.  He does not forget us.  Never. In this example, dying to self means that we will refuse to seek our own needs, but we trust that as we meet others needs that God will meet ours.  The irony is that, in a cirlce of humility, He often uses other people to meet those needs, and it glorifies God. Loving our brothers, means we love God. Loving God, means we love our brothers. The two can’t be separated.

While Christ is our example, He’s also our God. I don’t expect my children to love me more than I love them.  I don’t expect expensive gifts on birthdays, lavish meals, or pampering from them.  They are 10 and 13; I expect them to concentrate on growing mature.  I have an unreciprocated love relationship with them right now.  I do more for them, because I love them more.  How much more does our heavenly Father love His dear children? I am limited in my earthly body, unlike God, I can’t see the big picture and all the ways He is working behind the scenes. He knows that.  He even knows how much it frustrates me, and that I feel guilty when I don’t know as much as He does.  He’s patient with me when I feel this way, and gives me encouragement when I seek Him.  One word from Him is better than a thousand from someone without knowledge.  And a few words from a well meaning friend, are better than none from someone who judges me.  I love the way He loves me.  It is about me.

Ripe

I love Jesus.  If I didn’t, there is no way I would have eaten macaroni and hot dogs for dinner.  Today is the first day of this fast which actually felt like a fast. 

I spent my $7, $7 on strawberries today.  My neighbor and I drove up to the quaint, hill country town of Fredericksburg for some U Pick ‘Em strawberries.  This normally would have been the season for peaches, but the unseasonably cold weather earlier in the spring produced a bum crop of peaches, and extended the life of the strawberry.  I really wasn’t even thinking about my seven fast, but when we went to pay for the fruits of our labor, and it came up $14, it seemed perfect.  Seven for me and seven for my kids.  We sat at the picnic table under the shade tree and ate until our hearts were content.

This evening I agreed to babysit my friend’s two girls while she and her husband got away for a birthday dinner celebration.  I told her not to worry about dinner for the girls, that we’d get something when they got here.  I thought maybe we would go to McDonald’s, but then I remembered I had already spent my $7 for the day, so I couldn’t justify buying a dinner for me.  When I asked the girls what they wanted for dinner, the four year old answers, “I like mac and cheese, and hot dogs.”  Under the terms of my fast, I can buy food at the grocery store for meals, I just can’t buy something for me specifically.  If I buy it, it has to be a community item.  The thought of eating mac and cheese for dinner, when I know that I have enough money in my wallet to get sushi is not easy, and if I didn’t love Jesus, I would have surely feasted on sushi while my little guests ate their dinner of choice.  You see, mac and cheese is below me.  I’m not a kid, and I’m not poor, and I don’t have to eat mac and cheese.  Sushi tastes better, is better for me, and makes me feel kinda hip when I eat it.

But then there is Jesus.  Listen to what He said:

And when the hour came, he reclined at table, and the apostles with him.  And he said to them, “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer.  For I tell you I will not eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.” And He took a cup, and when he had given thanks he said, “Take this, and divide it among yourselves.  For I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.”  Luke 22: 14-18

You see in a sense, Jesus is fasting for us.  He is waiting until the fulfillment of the kingdom of God to share the Passover meal with us.  When we fast, we are joining Him in His current state.  I think that is why our prayers are fast tracked when we fast.  We are joining ourselves with our LORD, and our hearts are joined together in a covenant relationship.

I’m in a covenant relationship with the friend that asked me to babysit today.  I pray for her and her husband every day.  I would have cancelled any plans to help her out.  All she needed to do is ask, and I would have done it.  This is the same relationship that we enter into with Jesus, when we join Him in a fast.  How much more is He willing to “drop everything” to help us out.