This Old Couch

Our new living room furniture arrived this week.

We had so innocently strolled into the local Ashley's Home Store two Sundays ago after church to "just check out" a side chair to fit alongside our fireplace.  The beautiful new arrangements called out to us with their color-coordinated crisp new fabrics, weathered wood,  and rustic charm. We were totally caught off-guard. Hadn't seen so many gorgeous pieces together in the same place, maybe ever. All of a sudden, our old, worn, and well-loved furniture couldn't compete.

To be honest, we had seriously kicked around the idea of replacing our eleven year old, well-loved set for months, so along with the Black Friday sale price, it didn't take much to put us over the top.

On Wednesday we carried our old set to the garage. Our daughter and son in law had asked for it years ago, "whenever you decide to get rid of this furniture." So even though several others fought over it online, (sort of) we had to keep our five-year-old promise.

Something strange happens when you decide to change something as innocent as a couch or love seat.  All of a sudden when you least expect it, a bunch of those sneaky memories come tiptoeing out from nowhere and hit you right in the heart.

Whatever were we thinking?

How many stories were made sitting around on that furniture?  How many jokes were told, hugs shared, movies watched, tears cried?  Our old family friend, Snickers, slept on those cushions, piling even more pillows on top for the perfect nap. Dora the dachshund, birthed two litters of puppies (no, not ON the couch) during those years, and we sat on those couches holding puppies together.

How do you put a price tag on the tapestry of memories woven deep into those cushions? No sparkle, shimmer, or color-coordinated rustic charm could ever hold a candle to the priceless value of a Christmas morning gathered together, opening heart-felt gifts bought for each other, sharing inside jokes, throwing wads of wrapping paper at the bag holder (Dad),  purposefully  accidently overshooting their target.

We celebrated Christmases, birthdays, graduations, engagements, grandbabies, new son-in-laws and new sons from China on those couches. We high-fived the most exciting achievements, and mourned the deepest hurts there. Memories that come in like a flood are no respecters of feelings. They don't care about impressing the neighbors, or making picture-perfect Pinterest posts.

So as we sit on the pristine new sofa and loveseat, it feels, well, strange.  Not comfortable.  No indentations, no worn spots. No fingerprints or crumbs.

No memories. No personality, truth be told.

Its like we went house shopping and bought what we thought was the perfect house, not realizing that it was what went on inside that made it a home.

Speaking of houses, in case you haven't noticed, our family likes to change houses about as often as some people change batteries in their smoke detectors.

Part of the reason is because the realtor in me loves houses.  You don't peruse Realtor.com or Zillow daily for too long before your imagination gets the best of you. The other part is because it can be profitable. It's a great way to pay off medical bills, dental bills, and expensive adoptions. Add to this the fact that I love to create by fixing up older homes, or starting from scratch with new ones. When it's done, it's not long before it feels like it's time to move on to another.

 Change can be exciting.  There's reward in starting fresh, conquering a new goal. But there's also a trade-off.  You trade wings for roots.  Every time you transplant your family, you uproot and it takes awhile to re-establish your home.

That is where we find ourselves again this Christmas.  We are sitting on a new sofa, contemplating the old familiar Christmas decorations hung with the new during our first Christmas here.

And our old sofa and loveseat rest innocently in the garage.  It would be so easy to go out and move the furniture back in, just as it would seemingly be so easy to pack up a moving van and move our belongings back to the place we came from this past year. It is so tempting to go back to familiar friends, familiar church, familiar schools--back to the way it was.

" And no one after drinking old wine wants the new, for they say, ‘The old is better.’ 
(Luke 5:39)

And we can't.  And, more importantly, we shouldn't.  Change has a way of playing tricks on your memories. You forget about the hard, sad, hurtful ones, and remember the great ones.  The rose-colored lens of memory is not an accurate picture of what it is now. A well-respected man once said:

“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.” (Heraclitus)

A not as well-respected Facebook site gave me my un-scientific life-defining personal quote this past week.  I got:  "Don't look back. You're not going that way." --June Rairick

And yet, as bittersweet as memories are, we get to continue to create new ones. More graduations will come. More achievements, more celebrations.  More weddings, grand babies, birthdays and Christmases.

And one day, when we least expect it, we will move home for the last time to our permanent home that has been prepared for us long before we were born. And then there will be no more tears, no more good-byes.  Just endless celebrating with the One and the ones we love.  

And then we will see clearly, face to face.

 " For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. (I Corinthians 13:12-13)

We, The Pawns...

Sorry to break it to you, but we've been played.

Politicians have been played.
The media has been played.
Policemen, college students, celebrities, talk show hosts.
Lawyers, construction workers, soldiers, teachers.
Fathers, mothers, friends, co-workers.
The black-skinned, the fair-skinned, and all shades of brown-skinned.
Those with jobs.
Those who are unemployed.
The old, the young, and all who are in-between.

 Every single one of us has been used as arsenal in a mighty war.

We are the pawns in a mighty big chess game where the stakes are high and the winner takes all.  We have been programmed to view the opposite side in a political game as the enemy.  We have mistaken the agenda of a few elite people as the agenda of all.  We are loyal soldiers fighting for a cause that has been layed out for us.  Our unquestioning loyalty has given us all the skills necessary to be effective soldiers and obliterate the other side effectively with our words and actions.

The emboldened attacks of a few radicals on the opposing team solidifies what we always thought we new about them all.  We are the good guys, wanting ultimate victory for our families, friends, and country.  Which makes "them" the bad guys. The enemy.

The huge secret?  Both sides feel the same way.

A few powerful elites, who are actually pawns themselves,  have used the passion, love of country and family to emblazen our cause and create warriors.

The Bible says that a house divided against itself will fall.  And, sorry to say, that is the ultimate agenda of the true enemy of our souls--for our nation and all of mankind to fall.

We have been brainwashed to forget the high price that has been paid by those who have fought and died to preserve the country we now love.

Can't you see it?  When we fight and attack each other, loot, destroy, and burn what is most cherished among us, there are no winners.  When we mince others with our words for a temporary serotonin rush, what have we gained?  We can fist-bump and high-five each other on our team for the temporary thrill of a battle well-fought, not seeing that we are losing the war.

The only path that leads us out of the hate and corruption that we are so entwined in is the path of love and acceptance.  Neither side needs to experience ultimate defeat for there to be victory.  Both sides must lay down their arms and seek peace for there to be healing.

On this Veterans Day, may we declare that the fighting must end.

How? We can start by focusing on what we have in common.

We all cherish our families.
We are grateful for our friends.
We value people over possessions, light over darkness, faith over fear, beauty over ashes.
We melt at the sound of a baby laughing.
We love the smell of puppies, newly cut grass, freshly ground coffee, rain, and roses.
We desire to make a difference in the lives of those we love most.
We seek for healing over sickness.
We want to be needed.
We strive to be happy.
We long to love and be loved.

When I look at you, may I first see your preciousness, the image of your Creator breathed into you from the very beginning.  May I know that inside the rough, bruised, hardened shell that is your defense is a brilliant, miraculous god-man created to bring glory to the Lord of the universe.

You are not my enemy.  You are not the bad guy.  You are my brother and sister.
May I value your god-given potential more than my being right.
May I cherish your uniqueness and not be intimidated by it.
May I lay down my arms and join arms with you as my friend.

"Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins."
-- I Peter 4:8 (NIV)

 And may this day bring forth the change in me that will quickly spread to you and to others.

The Truth about Fence-Sitting

"The Only Thing Necessary for the Triumph of Evil is that Good Men Do Nothing."

--Edmund Burke

You cannot be against something without being for it's counterpart.

Inaction is, in fact, action.

We cannot, and do not exist in a vaccuum.  When we fail to take action, we, in effect, promote our cause's demise.  

If this sounds random and theoretical, let me give you an example.

I buy my favorite cake.  I can choose to eat it or not to eat it.  If I leave it on the counter for a week, trying to make up my mind about eating it, I have by my inaction chosen to not eat it, for at some point, it becomes inedible. If I eat it, then I cannot have it, too.  (Thus, the famous saying.)

I use this example to illustrate what I feel many of my Christian friends are doing, regarding our current election.  They slam a particular candidate because he is carnal, and in their mind does not represent their moral world view.  So they use many opportunities, whether with humor, sarcasm, or outright character assassination to put that person down.  But they offer no solution.

"Oh, whoa is me, I don't like any of my choices.  So, I will just complain about how broken the system is, and rally my friends around me and we can make jokes and slam candidates (in the most christian way, of course) and live in our bubble."  But we have, in effect, made a choice.  We have allowed evil to triumph.

I believe there is a huge chasm between the two leading candidates, in what they stand for and what they promote.  One is carnal, one is evil.

I see a lot of my friends sharing strong opinions about what they are against.  But they offer no solutions. To them, I have to keep myself from reaching for the caps lock button, and shouting, "OKAY, OKAY, I KNOW WHO YOU ARE AGAINST, BUT WHO ARE YOU FOR??? To pray and then vote according to what they feel is the prompting of the Holy Spirit is their obligation as a citizen and as a Christian. To bash a candidate or a platform without promoting something else, is in effect promoting the counterpart.

I respect people who vote according to their conscience, whether or not their vote ends up counting. There are arguments for and against voting for a third or fourth party candidate.  If you have researched, and prayed, and then voted, well amen.  You are operating in faith and in good conscience.

BUT IF YOU SLAM, MOCK, ACCUSE, AND JOKE, AND THEN DO NOT VOTE, I believe it is sin.  I believe you have played into the hands of the pharisaical mindset.  And Jesus never had anything good to say about the Pharisees.  He wasn't politically correct.  He didn't beat around the bush.  He condemned their attitudes and their actions.

But he welcomed the sinners.  He even ate with them.  He granted mercy to the woman caught in the act of adultery.  He praised a woman with a sordid past for her broken and contrite spirit.  He healed the demoniac.  He touched the unclean.

"The difference between Trump and Clinton is that Trump is a 'Sampson' (repentant)  and Clinton is a 'Jezebel' (unrepentant).  God used Sampson.  He never used Jezebel." --Lance Wallnau (paraphrased)

I truly believe God is using the present political events to humble a man to be used for Kingdom purposes.  Don't miss it, Church.  Don't shoot our soldiers when God is using the circumstance to show His glory.

You have influence.  Your opinion matters.  Don't squander it.  Pray, pray, pray.  Then speak life.

And vote.

This is Only a Test

Well better late than never to the FMF party.  Now it's Saturday, and it's been quite a week, with a pesky demon-looking hurricane named Matthew glaring at us, horrible videos of vulgar talk and treatment of women, and the normal trials of balancing family and a business run from home.  Let's just throw in adoption, and culture, and teachers conferences, and teenage hormones. Makes for a really nice test, doesn't it?  

Test.

This is a test.  This is only a test.  If this were a true emergency you would be directed to...well, can't remember where we would be directed to, but it sounded official and important.

Yes, I remember the blood-curdling sound announcing the test of the Emergency Broadcast System.  There were always mixed reactions to that sound.  Frustration that our show was interrupted.  Back before the comfort of DVR, whatever was blocked during the test was gone forever.  But amid our frustration was a sense of awe, knowing that if it were a true emergency, someone somewhere in some official place had a plan.  And there was always a sense of relief being assured that it was only a test.  Not a true emergency.

Life lesson there, glaring at me.

Had quite a few tests this week.  Some I passed, others, well, let's just say the jury is out.  May have to retake them.  

There was the customer who rudely insisted that we pay for new kitchen hardware because her husband didn't like her selection, and now it's "only fair" that we eat the cost of her change in plans. (Other hardware is not returnable now.)  To the tune of $200.  Part of me wants to tell her where she can put the extra hardware, but that's the test-failing part of me.  The other makes me want to eat the $200, but after I, in no uncertain words, let her know that it's not her right, but the extreme kindness of my heart that makes me even consider doing this.  The voice that said, "Give it to the Lord, He will take care of the results" was weak and not at all audible.

Would have loved to have heard that blood-curdling sound and seen the colorful screen as a reminder.

Or how about just yesterday when I jumped all over my son for walking into a room scraping a large object on the floor just as I was finishing my one hundred and ninety ninth take of a promo video we  were shooting, of course with.deadline.looming.  No screech.  No colored TV screen to remind me.  

Epic fail.

Truth be told, our days are filled with all kinds of tests.  We just don't recognize most of them.  

Will we react in kindness when sarcasm is easier and much more enjoyable?

Will we go the extra mile for someone who in our minds doesn't deserve it?

Will we give when it is hard, and messy, and we are so, so tired?


Most of our days aren't filled with final exams.  Just pop quizzes.  I don't always test well.

How about you?

Just Five Minutes

I am forever losing five minutes.

When I plan my schedule so I can arrive on-time, usually I run about five minutes late. This doesn't work well when your business depends on meeting people in a timely fashion.

The doctor's office, hair stylist, and teacher don't appreciate it much either.

Too often than I care to admit, I am apologizing for being just a "little late."  I try to blame it on traffic lights, or a last-minute phone call.  But the truth was I didn't plan well.

Where do those pesky five minutes disappear to?
It's such a mystery. Or is it?

You see, I like to think I have most everything I do timed.  I know how long it takes to get ready.  My GPS has my trip planned out to the exact minute, figuring in traffic.  No excuse there.  Was it the last minute search for the keys, the water bottle filled last-minute, the extra time spent to have a good hair day?  Too much time surfing the web, checking one more status?

I guess it's probably a mixture of these and a few other things combined.
It doesn't really matter why I run late.  What matters is that I finally build the five minutes into my schedule.  A five minute buffer.  Well, while we're at it, let's just make it ten.

What would happen if I planned better and arrived five minutes early, not just once, but every time?  What would happen to my stress level?  It's not difficult to imagine. I would be a much nicer driver.  Might even take the time to smile at a stranger along the way and say hi.  I could sing in the car instead of white-knuckling the steering wheel.

Wow, five minutes early to everything!  What a refreshing thought!  Often I blame my stress level on having too much required of me, too much to do and not enough time to do it.

Is the problem really not having enough time?  Or is it spending the time unwisely.

I recently read an article about extremely successful people, a list of fourteen ways they think and act differently than the rest of us.  What jumped out at me was that they measure their days in minutes, not half-hour or hour increments. And they schedule those minutes on a calendar that they guide their day with.  Secondly, they valued time over money.  Money, they said, could be lost and gained back. But time, once gone was lost forever.

Is that it?  Is that the big secret that highly successful people have over us regular folks?  How they view time? How they don't waste it?

Because that's something most of us could attain as well.  If we valued each minute instead of squandering them away in five-minute blocks here and there, how would our lives change?

The Bible teaches us to number our days, because it is the one gift we have that can only be spent once.

Now, where did I put my keys?

What Is Your Learning Style?

I'm an auditory learner.

Years ago while homeschooling our children, we all took a “learning styles” quiz.  The purpose was to help find the way our kids learned naturally so that we could better tailor their studies.  

Very interesting.

While most of my kids learned visually or kinesthetically (by doing), I was the audio learner.

What that means is that I run things around in my mind having conversations with myself and others. When I’m upset, I will rehash the conversation over and over, playing hurtful words on repeat.

The positive thing about being "audio" is that I can listen to podcasts, sermons, or other teachings and absorb them well.  Who needs notes? Notes are things you take and then leave them lying around, never to be seen again. The greatest invention ever for me is the audiobook.  If I hear it, I remember it.

So, if I'm reading anything, there also needs to be COMPLETE SILENCE. Because any conversation, music with lyrics, or even random noise will mess with my reading.

Some fun ways you can test yourself to find your learning style.  When you are trying to remember something, do you look up and to the right? (visual learner). Or do you count things on your fingers. I look straight out or down, as if I’m trying to hear it in my mind.

If you needed to remember a list of five things to buy from the grocery store, would you: visualize where they are in the store, or do you see a mental list in your mind?  I actually make a silent rhyme out of them.  As I find each item in the store, the rhyme or song changes.  Sounds crazy,but believe it or not, it works.

Another way you can decipher your learning style is by finding out what you say when you are frustrated at someone you love.

I say:  “Listen to me!.”  “You’re not listening!”  “Why do I feel like I am constantly repeating myself?”

Pair this learning style up with a husband that is the very opposite.  He VERY kinesthetic.  Needs to keep moving to learn.  Learns by doing.

Sometimes it’s quite comical.

Him:  “Come here, I need to show you something.”

Me”  I don’t need to go there.  Just tell me.”

Him:  Just take a minute and come here.  See these weeds?  Have the boys pull them after school today as their chore.”

Me:  “Couldn’t you have just told me?”

Or another scenario:

Me:  After you are finished with your project, can you please run to the store, pick up milk and eggs and toothpaste, and then pick up C_____ from the gym?

Him:  Blank stare.  “What, what?”

Yes, just another way husbands and wives, men and women are different.

God sure has a sense of humor, doesn’t He?

A Man's Role: To Protect

It's an amazing privilege to have been married to a pastor.  That was my husband's role for the last 31 years until three weeks ago, when we said good-bye to our church of 16 years. On the day he was honored, his last Sunday, we witnessed person after person sharing beautiful stories of how he had touched their lives.  It was the best of times.  It was the worst of times.  He and I were a wreck.  It was like being a part of a memorial service without anyone having died.  Both beautiful and heart-wrenching.

We both agreed later we didn't realize our hearts could feel so broken and so full at the same time.

I have watched his pastor's heart grow over the years, until it was sometimes hard to separate the pastor, from the husband, from the father, from the friend. And this has led to some misunderstandings, and sometimes hard feelings.

How do you separate roles when you are pastor to your parents, your wife, your kids, your friends? How do you show them you love them uniquely, yet need to shepherd their souls at the same time?

My kids have taken turns through the years accusing him of not caring.  Through their eyes they could only see that he wanted to be their pastor, not their dad.  Too many rules (in their eyes).  Being asked how their walk with God was going, if they had read their Bibles and prayed.  Why did they have to go to church all the time?

And when you are husband/dad/son/friend and pastor, it makes you prime target for those who love you most to see you at your weakest moments.  Because he was never perfect, and yet never claimed to be, yet he had to stand before us week after week and proclaim from the pulpit a message he had prepared and prayed over for many hours.

And yet, he has truly loved us all with a deep love that isn't always visible at first glance.

Last year we had watched a wonderful video series on marriage, and the speaker talked about differences between husbands and wives, men and women. And even though we had heard many messages on marriage, this one was very eye-opening for us.

He said that a man was very different from a woman in that his deep instinct was to protect his family.  He would give his life for his wife and kids without thinking.

So, I asked my husband if this was true for him.  His reply?  "In a heartbeat."

It's a lot easier to forgive minor trespasses in a husband or dad when you realize that the one who can drive you to the deepest part of crazy in a given minute, would also give his life for you in a heartbeat.


Selah.