My Pieces

I wrote this post back in September in my private journal. (I LOVE Penzu ) Unfortunately, I kept forcing my pieces, until I was in pieces. Letting the Lord put me back together now...

So I bought this windmill for my eclectic, charming, quaint, whimsical prayer garden. Loved the images on the blades of the fan. Thought it would look perfect in my prayer garden.

Then I tried to put it together. What a nightmare! I sat on the floor, gathered the tools and the instructions and with great anticipation, went to work on my fabulous windmill. Hours later I threw down the instructions, stomped my foot and declared that this windmill was junk and needed to be thrown away! 

This is not my normal behavior, I am the one who puts things together in our household. I have the patience and the ability to decipher those really weird and nondescript instructional photos. I have the ability to build things, to take almost no direction and build things. From just pieces to something, something useful, something pretty, something of value.

Not this time.

So I walked away. For a couple of days I pondered what I could make of the pieces. Instead of a windmill, I could have something,well ,something different, not what I wanted, but something. I couldn't come up with anything. It seems the pieces of the windmill are meant to be a windmill.

Then I pushed it to the side of the room. Still visible, still mocking me, but in an area that I could ignore it. And I did...for weeks. My boy came home from college one weekend. And he looked at the pieces and then at me, he laughed just a little and said, "Mom, that is exactly where that was when I was here last". I declared that I was "done" with it and as far as I was concerned it could be thrown away.

Just a little later David went over to the pieces and picked up the instructions. I told him, that I was fairly sure I had done something wrong, but no matter how many times I looked at the instructions and at what I had manged to force together, I could not figure out where I had gone wrong. I could not figure out why I could not build, why I could not make something from the pieces.

After just a few minutes David told me where I had gone wrong. Truthfully, when he said it, I thought for sure he was wrong. No way I could have made such a simple mistake. But then he took apart the pieces I had forced together and began again. This time making the change in the very first step, correcting my mistake, the one I had made in the very. first. step, the one that made the pieces not fit together, the one mistake that kept me from having a windmill and instead left me with a bunch of useless pieces.

Then he was done. And there was the beautiful windmill I had wanted. And instead of the junk I had claimed it to be, it turned out to be a windmill, strong and sturdy and beautiful.

Isn't it often that way?  So many lessons in this windmill. If I want something strong and sturdy and beautiful I need to make sure the pieces are being put together correctly, from the start, by the ONE who knows how they all fit together. NO matter how many times we declare something is useless junk that needs to be thrown away, there is ONE who says the opposite and simply asks us to trust HIM with the pieces. Then HE will make it useful and beautiful and full of purpose and value. That it is often the very act of giving up that is required for the pieces to be put together. And sometimes we get so focused on doing it our own way that we lose sight of the fact that HIS way is the way to something beautiful. Often I am so sure of my own gifts and abilities that I lay in pieces, trying to force something beautiful, when really I just have useless pieces, and instead of just letting HIM put them together, I am sure, if I just keep forcing it, I can make something out of my pieces. When I can't force it, I declare it junk, worthless and of no value, moving on to something else. But the pieces don't go away, they lay there, wishing to be something useful, begging to be beautiful. To put together in such a way to be strong and sturdy. And one day, when I am the least aware of the pieces, they will be brought to light again, and in that moment, I can choose, to let the wrong be brought to light and corrected, to let HIM undo the forced together pieces, and put together something beautiful, or I can choose my pride and keep my useless pieces.....................

I want something beautiful. Strong. Sturdy. Full of purpose and value. Something beautiful.....

For The Beauty

This morning I looked out over our pond to watch the sun fully rise. It's one of my favorite things to do. It really is beautiful and I am ever reminded just how much my Father in Heaven has blessed me.

This morning the suns rays glistened across a very large spider web. This is the season for giant spider webs (you have been warned) so I can't say I was surprised. However, this morning, I had two immediate thoughts.... Oh my gosh that is massive and scary! and Oh my gosh that is beautiful!

I pondered it for some time. My irrational fear of spiders trying to whisper to me (ok, scream) that the giant spider web must mean an abnormally large spider, therefor I should get the shotgun (I told you it's irrational) My logic brain reminded me that the spider that I know makes these ornate and large webs actually is not large. And I would totally miss it if I shot it with a shotgun! Logic in my irrational!

And then I did something crazy. Well, crazy for me. The me who melts down when confronted with a spider. Who just days ago had a freak, insane, would leave anyone with nightmares, encounter with a tarantula in my home. So yea, crazy.

I grabbed my camera and went outside (the windows need to be cleaned so I couldn't take pics from inside, I tried). I was quite impressed with the web, unfortunately I couldn't catch the way the sun glistened on the strands. I took a lot of pictures, for a time I was more impressed and taken with the beauty of it, the fear, for now, pushed totally aside. I stood outside, in my flip flops, and took pictures of something created by that which I fear the most. And it was beautiful.As I turned to walk away I thought to myself....

I wish I could have the beautiful web without the terrifying spider.

And then the Holy Spirit whispered to me, “Isn't that the way you are in life? You want all the beauty but none of the things that get you there.”

Um, ok. There I was patting myself on the back for stepping out, in my flip flops, choosing to be brave in the face of my fear and then…

Just when I think I am catching on and learning the lesson, the Lord reveals deep truth to my heart. I do, want all the beauty, all the fun, peace, happiness and joy, but often (most of the time) I balk at the way the Lord brings those things to my life. I don't want to do the tough, hard, sad, scary, trying, things, just give me the good stuff,You keep the scary.

I wonder…would all of the “good” things be good if they were all I know. Would I look at the spider web glistening in the sun the same way, if I wasn't seeing through eyes that have seen through fear. Would I have even noticed ?

So, now I am left with two new thoughts....If I would have kept my eyes on my fear I would have missed the beauty and today, and maybe just for today, I will trust the journey, it will deliver me to beauty.

A Book to Open the Eyes of My Heart...

I downloaded a free book yesterday.  It's a habit of mine. Today I read that book.  Was just going to read a few chapters.  I read the whole thing.  I cannot shake this feeling, the burden, this weight, this knowledge that the eyes of my heart have been closed, lulled to sleep by comfort, my idea that I "do my part".

On more than one occasion I put my Kindle aside, I did NOT want to read anymore. This is too much, I don't want to know this much evil, this much pain, this much suffering. I can't read anymore. My heart hurts and my mind reels. I can NOT stop reading.  All I am doing is reading, not living this.  But someone did, someone is living it now, at this very moment I am snug in my bed with my perfectly made cup of coffee.  Isn't the absolute very least thing I can do is to read their stories.

I read about green flip flops. And I think of my tub crammed full of flip flops in every color. I have never not had shoes.  I think about the brand new pair of running shoes I just bought.  I don't run. I am thinking about it. Needed the shoes, you know, just in case I actually decide to run, for fun, as a hobby.

I read about bathing in filthy water, no clean water to quench a parched throat in the desert. No water to give a dehydrated child. And I realize that I have never ever found myself questioning the cool, clear, life sustaining, water that will flow from any number of faucets in my home.

I read about sickness, disease, dying. And I think about my husband, who got bit by a tick.  He got very sick so I called a doctor, went to see him and then shopped in a store filled with anything I would want to purchase, in the air conditioning, buying lots of things we didn't need, while we waited for an antibiotic that would heal him rapidly.

I read about evil, pure evil.  Cruelty. Disgusting things that I cannot imagine any human being capable of.  I thank God that though I thought I had experienced some evil in my life, that I had not endured what I was reading.  I marvel at the safety and security of my home. Of my life. Of the abundant blessings God has bestowed on me.  Thank you God, that my kids have not been touched by this evil.

I read and I think everyone should read this book.  WAIT, not my kids.  They have not lived with this kind of evil. I remember that I just thanked God they haven't been touched by this kind of evil.  This is too much.  This is too much for me.  Its raw, its real, its ugly, its cruel, it is evil.  Yes, too much for my kids.  Too much for me.

Then I remember that I once was told that people who work in 3rd world countries often censor what they share and expose to us.  "Us" being Americans.  If we were to see, hear and know about the real truth, the horrors, it would cause us to shut down, to close the eyes of our hearts.  Its too much.  The censored versions are often too much for us. So we don't do anything.  Actually, we "do" something.  We close our eyes, our hearts and we turn our backs.

Once closed against the horrors of lives being lived in a way we cannot even begin to understand our eyes remained closed, not just to "over there" but to our neighbors in need.  To the pain, suffering and evil right here, in our neighborhoods, in our towns, in our country.  People are in need everywhere.

No, I think, everyone, to include my kids, should read this book.  What would this world look like if the eyes of our hearts were open? Really opened? I think about the times my eyes of have been opened before and I wonder how they were lulled to sleep.  15%, I think.  15% lulled me to sleep.  15% closed the eyes of my heart.

Last year when I did our taxes I realized we "give" 15% of our income.  Our tithe, of course.  But we give 5% over that amount.  And that is just the amount that we keep track of.  Big pat on the back for that right? We support missionaries in East Asia, India, and sponsor a child through Compassion, just to name a few.  So obviously I have seen with my eyes that there are needs and I do my part to help.  Do I really need to know that evil is real, that it exists and that children live in it, with it and cannot imagine a life without it? Can't I, through eyes half closed, give money to a need? You know, do good.  Be good.  Be Christ like? If I see someone in need I am willing to help.  But I cannot tell you the last time I thought about sacrificial giving.  That I saw a need and met it because my heart saw them, and not the need.  I have money, I have things, I can give those and my heart need not ever engage.  Reading this book I think of Jesus, he met people first, then the need.  His heart fully engaged.

Oh the eyes of my heart have been opened in the past.  At times I have seen people and then because of seeing them, I have known their need and I have been moved.  Moved past giving a couple of dollars to meet their immediate need.  But reading this book, I realize the eyes of my heart have been lulled to sleep by the ease of which I can "give".

Isn't our greatest need, our basic desire, to be known, to be real, to be heard.  To know that our life matters to someone? No matter how long, how short, how comfortable, how hard, how tragic, or even how much evil we come to know, we seek to be known, to be loved.  I can throw money at a problem all day long (not sure hubby would like this! ;)  Seeing the person, first? Loving the person enough to hear why there is even a reason/need for money.  To hear them, their story, where they have been, where they dream to go, do they even dream anymore, now that, that is sacrificial giving, Christ like.

Passport through Darkness reveals great evil and darkness in this world.  But its value to me is that is introduced me to people who have lived through it.  It has opened the eyes of my heart, not to throw money at another "good project" but to beg God to show me where I can give sacrificial love. Maybe its in Sudan, maybe its in India, maybe its in fighting sex trafficking, maybe its in Fort Smith, Van Buren or to someone down the street.  The "least of these" exist everywhere.  The Lord and I will be working out what I am to do.    Right now, I am begging God, please, don't let the eyes of my heart to ever close again.

For a few more days the ebook is free to download.  Click here for the kindle version: Passport Through Darkness