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.

Day Three

Today was day five of the spending fast, despite the title of the blog.  When I woke up this morning, I told God that I didn’t think that I had faith to believe that He could do something big three days in a row, and I asked Him if He would give me the faith to believe it.  Then I prayed and asked him who and what I was supposed to spend the $7 on today.

He helped me out by letting Whitney decide the first item.  I would watch her perform in her classroom play. However, with Whitney there is always an angle.  She starts by asking a serious of questions, which seem to have nothing to do with each other, and by the time you’ve answered them all you are so worn down, you are happy to give her whatever she wants.  I’ve gotten wise in her 10 years of life, and now I cut to the chase and say, “Just tell me what you want.”  “A donut, because last time when you came to my thing at school, Sean K’s mom brought him a cake pop from Starbucks, and Kate’s mom brought her a donut, and they both ate them right in front of my face, and were like, ‘Mmmm,’ right in front of me.” Yeah, she's really that good.  I'm doomed when she becomes a teenager.  “You want a donut?” “Yes.” “Are you sure?  Really sure? Ok, I’ll bring you a donut.”

Then, I thought about Dessea. Dessea’s a girl in Whitney’s class whose dad is in prison.  And Raven.  On the field trip neither Dessea nor Raven had money to spend in the gift shop.  And I thought about how devastated Whitney felt when someone ate a donut in front of her, and about the lesson I am learning through this fast about spending on others when I spend on myself, and I couldn’t just bring only Whitney a donut.  I’d have to bring Dessea, and Raven, and Kate, and Addy, and Sean K……I’d have to bring donuts for the whole class.  I didn’t tell Whitney, I just kept it a secret.

Shipley Donuts wanted $6.50 for one dozen of donuts.  Dang it.  I needed two, and I was sure that while I was trying to decide what I should do, the ladies behind the counter were making fun of me in their native language.  (They may not have been, but it sure felt like it.) So, I left and was glad I did when I found a big ole bargain at Walmart.  $3.49 for a dozen of assorted (the good stuff) donuts.  In other words, 2 dozen for 7 bucks! Yes, pick me!  I also wanted a donut, so I used my first purchase of the day on myself to buy a $0.50 donut for me, and a $.050 cherry turnover for Whitney’s teacher.

After the play, I ran to Walgreen’s to get mailing envelopes.  As I was walking into the store, I told myself; this isn’t for me, so it doesn’t count towards my $7 total.  I needed envelopes for the dogs’ paperwork to send to Hawaii.  So really, it was for the dogs.  At least that’s what I told myself. “Right, God, it’s for the dogs?  That’s how I see it.  That’s not how you see it?”  “Ok, I’ll count it towards my seven.”  And all the while I’m thinking who would ever want a package of envelopes anyway.  Someone was going to be like, “Oh, a package of envelopes, you shouldn’t have…really, you shouldn’t have, what am I going to do with a package of envelopes?”

As I start to drive away, I realize I’m going to the post office.  People at post offices need envelopes. So, maybe it’s not such a stupid idea after all. In getting my own package ready to mail, I couldn’t tell that anyone needed an envelope.  As a last ditch effort, I asked a lady in line if she wanted them, and she said, “Sure, I could always use envelopes.”  Not incredibly dramatic, but at least I gave them to somebody.

It’s already lunch time by the time I’m driving to the next place.  I tried to do the mental math (not easy for visual thinker me, and especially while I’m driving) fifty cents plus $2.19…that’s …..and I feel like I’m being chastised for being chintzy. Ok, $3.00.  So, that gives me…uh….$4 left.  I told you, I’m not good with math in my head.  I wonder if I could get lunch for $4?  As I drive past Church’s Chicken I felt like I should stop, but I wasn't very hungry so I kept going, and wouldn’t you know, it seemed like everyone was trying to get in my lane with me in it.  “What’s going on?”  And suddenly, I felt out of God’s will for not stopping for lunch.  Back to Church’s I went.  I really hoped I could afford a soda with lunch.  A chicken sandwich combo on the menu looked especially divine.  Guess the price?  You got it.  $4  I order two with Dr. Peppers and fries.  When I get to my destination, I looked for anyone to give it to.  I asked a lady in the parking lot if she had lunch, but she had already eaten.  Then there was a car behind the building sitting with the doors open.  A man and his granddaughter were waiting for someone inside.  I asked if they were hungry, and they had already eaten.  I drove around to the front, parked, and got out.  I walked around, and felt ridiculous for carrying a chicken sandwich and a Dr. Pepper, with no one to give it to.  I prayed, “Lord, is there anyone that needs this sandwich?” I turned around to go back, and a man joined me on the side walk.  He was carrying a subway sandwich and a Dr. Pepper.  He seemed nice, and I let him pass me.  Just as he was about to go inside a door, I asked him, “Where are you going with that lunch?”  “I work here,” he replied.  “Is there anyone else in there?”  “What do you need,” he asked me?  “I need to find someone to give this sandwich to.” “There’s no one in there that needs a sandwich,” he confidently told me.  Then I saw a lady from the inside looking at us suspiciously.  “But are there other workers in there,” I asked?  “Yeah, but no one needs lunch, I don’t think…” “Just trust me, someone needs this sandwich,” and I practically forced him to take it, if only, so I didn’t have to deal with it anymore.

You know after I gave away the envelopes and the sandwich today, I felt relieved.  I was under so much stress when they were still in my possession.  I didn’t need two packages of envelopes, and I didn’t need two chicken sandwiches.  Having more than I needed was a burden.  Today I didn’t get to see the rest of the story.  I didn’t get to see who ate the sandwich, and I don’t know if the lady at the post office truly needed those envelopes.  I didn’t see the big picture, I was only the middle man or better yet, middle lady. However, I can trust that my God does see the big picture, and because He showed me yesterday at how perfectly orchestrated His plan was,  I can be assured His plan today was just as perfect.  I think that is called growing in my faith.  Uh, huh…the answer to my prayer this morning.  Thanks God, I get it.