journal, jingles, four A.M. thoughts

Four o’clock in the morning.

I’m hugged up around my coffee mug, under my favorite blanket, pen with journal in hand.
I NEED these few minutes desperately.

Just moments ago. Down the hall. Before my alarm even sounded. I had begun listing.

And when I say “listing,” I mean I had begun making mental lists. Things I need to do, purchase, clean, and organize. Budget listing had begun. What to spend on each item on the list to achieve everything and retain surplus funds. Time listing had begun. How to do all the things and spend all the money in an order which provides total success, free time, and rest.
I made these lists repeatedly while the moments before the alarm sped by my bed. I rearranged each item and number over and again trying to make it work. Trying to solve the puzzle as if it were a Rubik’s cube and I played to beat the clock.

Did you know boats list?

When a boat lists that means it is leaning to one side or the other. Listing too far will cause the boat to take on water.
When you think about the way all my thoughts were evoking panic and causing me to wade down the hall to the coffee pot as if I were striving up steam against the current through knee-high water, this boat definition of list probably applies to me as well.

I say again. I desperately NEED these few minutes with the quiet, seeking God to take my thoughts captive, make them obedient, and resolve my mental Rubik’s cube dilemma.

After refilling my cup once, I’m ready to begin. With a sigh to release stress, control, and to center myself on just Jesus, I put pen to journal and write the words, “Lord, order my steps today. I’ve already got the crazy, and I don’t have the time or money to do any if this wrong. I need your…”

And that’s as far as I get because my not-quite-two-year-old granddaughter wakes up and toddles down the hall.

She wants my pen. I tell her no. I put my journal down.
She wants some milk. I get her milk. I pick up my journal.
She wants to watch a Christmas movie. She holds the DVD box up, and says, “dog.”
I tell her not dog. It’s a reindeer. She smiles, waves the DVD box and says, “DOG!”
I set my journal down and put in the “DOG!” movie. Refill my coffee and reach again for my journal.
Now, the kitten is awake and fighting for the spot on my lap where I hold my cup. So, I move her.
Now, the toddler is playing with jingle bells she captured from their perch on a shelf obviously not high enough to keep them safe.
Now, the kitten and the toddler are fighting over jingle bells, while the “DOG!” Movie plays but no one watches.
Now, the kitten steals a bell and climbs up my leg to reach the safety of my lap.
Now, the toddler suddenly decides my lap is the best place to be, if only to recover the stolen bell.
It’s all I can do to keep from spilling the coffee as it gets cold in my cup, and save the kitten from certain death, as the toddler finds footing on my left thigh.
Where is my journal? Under me?  I just don’t know…

At some point and for just a moment now, the toddler decides to just sit in my lap. Now, she’s not jingling bells or wrestling kittens.  Now, she just sits. Leans back against my chest. And sighs.

And I sigh too.

In moments, the chase will be on again.
For all of us really.
Wants and needs will shout to make themselves known. Jingle bells and all things Christmas will try to run us ragged. Stresses and duties of the day will attempt to run off with the thoughts, time, and money we try so hard to control and keep for ourselves.  Expectations will mock us, as we move forward failing to meet so many of them in one way or another. In fact, some of those expectations will pout or tantrum in the corner, hoping to keep our focus all day.

All this because ‘tis the season.
All this because we’re so very human and too often beautiful means perfect.
And too often Christmas means try harder.

Now, the toddler asks for fuzzy socks. I put her fuzzy socks on her tiny feet. Now, we match. I taught her about the magic of fuzzy socks.
Now, we sit together for another still moment.
Just a breath between this moment and the rest of the race.
And I’m grateful.
At some point today, I will have to budget and rearrange lists. I will have to go to the store after work. A trip to the mall may even be unavoidable.
But while the “DOG!” movie plays in the background and the kitten sneaks off with more jingling bells,
we sit still
in fuzzy socks, and I’m grateful for this time in the chaos.
I asked the Lord to order my steps, and He showed me what was important.
Immediately.
Because He is a God who Loves and Sees and Listens.
Because He is Emmanuel.
God with Us.
He name is proof we are not alone.

And this season, is NOT about perfection or try harder.
This season is about Love. Rescue. Grace.
It’s about the NOW you have been given.
It’s about the Love you give, right NOW.

treats & tricks: a tale of darkness

My parents filled my childhood with all kinds of amazing stuff. Stuff like building puppet stages out of old boxes, creating a Halloween carnival themed birthday party, and setting up a tight rope in the front yard because my sister and I wanted to see if we could walk it. (Thinking about it now, that time was probably more my dad. Not even sure mom was home for that one…)

Halloween costumes were a big deal too. Many years they were homemade. Custom designed to suit purpose and creative vision. I learned my gift for making something out of nothing from watching my folks be creative.

One costume stands out above the rest. I think of it every time the first Halloween decorations hit the retail shelves. I remember it for two reasons. The first one being because it was so cool.

I wanted to be a robot, and my parents went to work making it happen. Two boxes covered in foil served as the shell, one for the body and a smaller one attached to the top for my head. They attached spray paint can lids on either side of the head like ears. Foil, flexible dryer tubing made the arms. It also used a C-3PO mask for a face. COOL!
(Did I mention this was the late 70’s?)

AND to make it even MORE AMAZING – instead of carrying a candy bag, Dad cut an opening in the front and taped a lunch sack to the inside of my costume. People could just drop the candy right inside the little slot.

The candy slot not only went with the robotic design on front. It was necessary. I didn’t have much range of motion. The boxy costume was awkward. The top box for my head couldn’t turn. I could only see directly in front of me. My line of vision traveled through the holes cut in the box, and then through eye-holes in the mask. It was like having tunneled tunnel vision. To make movement more difficult, once I fit my arms through the holes in the box and down through the tubing, I could only bend them at the elbow. However, the trickiest part turned out to be walking because the bottom of the box ended about my knees and didn’t allow for much stride. I had to really pay attention when I walked or my legs would hit my costume – wump wump. Wump wump.

But even with limited mobility, I was proud of my costume and excited to trick or treat. Well actually, excited and a little apprehensive describes my feelings better. See, I was afraid of the dark, and the creepiness of the season always nibbled my courage after sunset. It was Halloween after all. Who knew what lurked in the shadows. However, the idea of showing off my costume and possibly getting EVEN MORE candy because of my costume’s coolness mustered the courage I needed to head down the block with my sister while my parents stood outside and chatted with the neighbors.

About midway down the block, we came to a house with no lights shining. The yard sat totally black and bare except for one tiny sticker bush right smack dab in the middle. I think this neighbor kept that bush there just to keep us from playing ball in his yard and killing the grass. Who knows, I just remember my sister and I decided not to go to the door because the lights were all off.

And now we come to the second reason I remember the robot costume.

Just as we were halfway past – basically in the dead center of the darkened area – something jumped up from behind that loan sticker bush, moaned an awful holler and lunged for my sister and me!

Unable to turn my head and assess the threat, I screamed.

And I took off running in my box, wumpwump wumpwump wumpwump.

I had no idea what happened to my sister. But I could hear something chasing me.

SOMETHING CHASING ME AND MAKING HORRIBLE NOISES: “AEYYYYYY.  AEYYYYYYYY.”

IT WAS GETTING CLOSER AND

I WASN’T GOING TO GET AWAY!!

Wumpwumpwumpwumpwumpwump.

“AEYYYYY AEYYYY. HEY TONI WAIT! YOU DROPPED ALL YOUR CANDY! WAIT!!!!!”

 

It was an older boy from down the block.
Dressed in gray rags like a mummy.
He had laid behind that sticker bush in the dark spread eagle waiting for someone to pass so he could jump up to scare them.

He too was very proud of his homemade costume.

 

But when I bolted, I kicked the candy bag loose from inside my costume. I lost all my candy without knowing it because I was wumpwumping for my life.

Most of the time he I thought he was chasing me, he was actually TRYING to return my candy.

Does this happen to you?  Not mean boys in mummy outfits, BUT –

When you are in a dark season, or dealing with loss, or unexpected challenges

Do you find yourself running from imagined monsters – all the possible “what if” scenarios?

Do you lose focus when you can’t see the path clearly, and overlook the blessings provided during the tough stuff.

If you do, you’re probably human.
We all miss the trees for the forest sometimes. We see only the scariness of the big, dark Unknown, and miss the gifts, and kindnesses in the details.
I’m talking about:
The growth of trust, the encouragement from others, the slow steady root of patience trying to form. I’m talking about hitting your knees in surrender instead of hitting the walls of your boxed in ideas, and recognizing the lovely blessing in having that moment with Jesus.

In times of stress and darkness, try to remember our Heavenly Father is a remarkable creator. He not only designed you for a purpose, but He also designed the path you are walking. He’s filled it with amazing stuff to provide for you, protect you,
And challenge you.
And during the times your movements are limited and you have no clear vision for what happens next remember these two truths:

Jesus’ unlimited power is made perfect in your weakness
And NOTHING jumping from the shadows surprises Him.

 

Also, you may be wondering what my sister was doing while I was running away.
I have no idea.
And that’s the other thing about fear.
When we’re letting it chase us, we’re not able to support or encourage each other. And that’s just not acceptable. We’re all in this together.
That’s what it means to Love.

once upon a time…

I’m writing a story for my new granddaughter. I’ve written a small story for each one of my daughters. This tradition started with a simple bedtime story for my oldest. Then when I remarried and I gained two bonus daughters, I wrote small stories for all three of my girls. Each daughter became the main character in her own adventure. A couple of years later, God blessed our family with a new baby and for her I created a toddler book. It’s just always been a natural way to show my love. Some women sew baby blankets, some knit booties. I create a stories my girls can call their own. So, making my granddaughter the hero of her own tale simply seemed a natural progression of the tradition.                          (Key components so far: Words; Love)

In all honesty however, I don’t believe story telling is my strong suit. Dialogue kicks my rear. Character development (which is key) takes time and attention to detail. I often simply lack the attention span it takes to draw a solid character. Quirky social media posts and the occasional blog post in which I prattle on about my latest learning experience are within my skill set. But rest assured, no novel rests within the deepest me waiting to be set free.                                                 (Key components here: Weakness; Dialogue; Attention)

The idea began with a single, simple image of a princess having tea with a dragon. But as my thoughts have unfolded, getting to the tea and what happens after have developed into a story I never imagined I would write. Now there’s no need to seek out my name on the Blue Bonnet Book page or anything, but what I have written so far is a much bigger story than I ever intended to attempt.          (Key component: Bigger Story)

And I’m not ashamed to tell you – I am afraid. This is new territory. I am excited to be on this journey and yet terrified that I have bitten off more than I can chew. It is very strange indeed to feel inadequate to finish a story that I created. Yet, that’s exactly how I feel.                       (Key components: Fear; Journey; Inadequate)

I find I’m agonizing over each word, feeling, and description. I’m manipulating sentences and refining images. With each keystroke, I’m equally excited at the success I’ve gained toward reaching the end of the story and terrified that with the next keystroke I will ruin everything. I’ve started something here that I can either intentionally craft or develop or I can allow my main character to scream, “THE END!” and run away                                                                                                         (Hint: This post isn’t all about me)

So with a deep breath and often half squinty eyes (trying not watch), each day I add a few words pressing on to the happy ending this story wants.

So, what does this have to do with the price of pickles in Paris? What could this possibly have to do with you?

I was just thinking about the effort I’ve put toward every word for a child’s fantasy. Then, I realized I don’t always make that same effort with the real people in my life. And I don’t think I’m the only one who falls short here.

God’s kingdom is interwoven with the world in many ways. Even though we are a kingdom set apart, by design the details of our lives bump into each other and bump into even the people not part of the kingdom. Inside the kingdom, we are to bear each other’s burdens. For our neighbors that live outside, we are instructed to meet them where they are and invite them Home. Both of these callings involve building relationships with people. Neither of these callings is easy.

Relationships are tough. Intentionality requires a great attention span as well as attention to detail. Often once we make a connection to people, it seems like we’ve bitten off more than we can chew. Their needs are too great. Their questions are too deep. Their burdens are too heavy. Facing our own dragons can be hard enough. Facing someone else’s dragons seems downright daunting.

So what do we do then? Do we go home and tell our King who created us to be missionaries, that we are inadequate for the task? Do we simply leave the gates open and hope all the lost wander inside the safety of the kingdom walls? Do we abandon the journey because excitement has swollen into fear?

In my story, just before the princess meets the dragon she bites her lip and makes the decision to be brave.
And I believe Jesus asks us to do the same thing.
I believe we are called to dialogue, even if it’s not our strength.
Make the introduction. Then make the call.
Share your life, your fears, and your struggles. Ask others to share in return.
Listen more. Speak less.
Allow your heart to LOVE bigger than your mind judges.
And when all this gets difficult and you want to run
Remember this:
When you wandered, your father the King, sent someone after you to ensure you made it Home- Happily Ever After

THE END