Tents

The forty passenger bus was moving along through the sunny desert when Danny, our informative, funny tour guide asked the bus driver to pull over and stop.  We were outside of Jerusalem, on the road from the Dead Sea.  Our guide directed our attention to the right side windows of the bus and he pointed out a cluster of rustic tents, the homes of nomadic desert Bedouin people.

 
These direct descendants of the Biblical patriarch, Abraham were living out their ancient customs and values in a modern world.  They were sheep, goat and camel herders.  Most of the family chores were done by the women. They moved their clans from place to place to access water and food sources for their flocks.  They lived in goat or camel hair cloth tents.  Each family unit had more than one tent--one for the men and one for the women and children. 

The outside of the desert dwellings we saw were unremarkable.  They were mostly rustic brown cloth patched together.  It seemed that if a section of the tent wore out, a new section of fabric was pieced in it's place.  Tent posts were staked into the ground with ropes tied to secure the tents.  Some of the tents had rocks piled along the edges of the tent flaps hold the cloth down against the wind and sand.  By all appearances everything was very functional;  nothing was very creative or elegant.

Then Danny started to tell us about the inside of the tents.  He told us that some of the Bedouins were quite wealthy.  Their cloth homes were furnished with beautiful woven rugs of rich jewel tones.  Trays were filled with food made with vibrant spices.  In the cooking section of the tents, coffee was readied for visitors. 

Our guide went on to share that the Bedouin people were known for their hospitality.  Anyone would be welcome in their tents, in fact they could stay for a few days with their hosts.   Poetry and music were also things these unhurried people engaged in with their families and guests.

As I thought of Bedouin life, I imagined that in those tents babies were born and young people were married.  I pictured laughter and time outs and grandmothers teaching grandchildren to cook or weave or dance--rich colorful life happening in a plain, unpretentious home.

In the New Testament book of 2 Corinthians, the author likens our earthy bodies to tents.  He points out the temporariness of our bodies and says that if we belong to God our earthly "tents" will someday give way to permanent "dwellings" in heaven. 

As I look at my "tent" I am discouraged by it's brokenness.  My illnesses have taken their toll on my body. Infections, surgeries, vitamin deficiencies, and weakness have all left their marks on me.   I'm having to remember that I can not define myself by my external body but rather by the abundant life--the joy of friends, the love of my husband, the treasure of kind words, the challenge of yet unreached potential--that is welling up inside of me and filling me.  Rich life in a very plain "tent."

Reflections

Crunch!  Crack!  "Oh no, that is not good," I said out loud as I heard plastic falling on the cement floor.

A couple of weekends ago we had over three feet of snow here in Connecticut.  The plowed snow is piled so high along our driveway that we can't see to safely enter our road.  Our solution has been to back our car into the garage so we can pull forward into the road.

I thought I had lined our old silver Volvo wagon up with the garage opening so I gave it some gas and that's when I learned that I had misjudged where I was.  The poor passenger side view mirror paid the price for my error.  The mirror glass cracked in a stripe pattern.  Chunks of the black plastic mirror casing were laying on the garage floor.  The mirror's wire mechanism was hanging and exposed.  The white paint on the garage door was scuffed up.  I really did it up right. (I've always been an over achiever.)

Since the "accident," I have driven here and there and instinctively I look in that mirror to try get my bearings.  It's a disconcerting experience to try to see clearly through cracks.  I sort of see a recognizable image but it is distorted and I can't trust what I'm perceiving in the mirror.  What I see does not represent reality.

In 1 Corinthians 13:12 the scripture says, " For now we see in a mirror, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know fully even as also I was fully known."  At times my life experiences belie the truth about who God is.  The Psalmist repeatedly writes, "Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.  His love endures forever."  When things don't make sense to me,  I question God's motives and purposes and wonder if he is indeed good.  In those moments, I cannot trust my emotions or thoughts.  The reality does not change though the way I look at God may change--He is good.

Celebrity

My husband, Jim, and I were busy packing up our first apartment and getting ready for moving day.  We were soon going to leave our little house in Lima, Ohio for a little house on Ohio Avenue in Congers, New York.  Jim was going to attend seminary.

We had all those "last" things we had to do--close our bank accounts, attend farewell parties, rent a U-Haul, oh, and have dinner with Miss Rose or Gwen as she was known to all at church.  Gwen was an older single lady who lived in a tiny apartment in the city's elderly housing complex. 

When we arrived at Miss Rose's, we entered her little two room home piled high with Bibles, books and devotionals.  There were scraps of paper tucked everywhere among her few treasured possessions.  We could smell dinner cooking and she had set a card table for us to share a meal with her. 

Gwen greeted us in her modest housedress.  Her wide smile made us feel as though we had done her a huge kindness by coming to her home for dinner.  But it was completely the other-way-round!

Miss Rose invited us to the table and asked the "future minister" to say grace.  Almost before Jim said, "Amen," Gwen said, "So! How can I pray for you?" (No small talk.  No niceties.  There was only one purpose for this visit!) 

Gwen took out paper and a pen and as we answered her question she wrote, seemingly unaware her dinner was getting cold.  She wanted to know our needs and she wanted to remember them so she could pray.  When she was done writing she looked up and said, "I'll be praying for you every day." 

Jim and I knew it was not an empty promise.  The slips of paper all over her house were evidence of her life of prayer.  Miss Rose found purpose in praying for others and she prioritized her life accordingly.  She was a wonderful steward of her giftedness. 

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary says a celebrity is "a celebrated person."  Our friend, Gwen, was a celebrity.  She honored God by being who he designed her to be, and for that Jim and I celebrate her. 

Miss Rose never spoke at a national convention.  She did not write a book.   She never took up a guitar and sang to a packed-out stadium.  She was not created to do those things.  She was created to pray and she did!  And that deserves celebrity status. 

Tangled Yarn

I'm sure you've had the experience of untangling a ball of yarn or string or an extension cord or necklace chain.  You know that feeling of finally sorting out the confusion only to have the mess tighten up in another spot.  I see a tangle as a personal challenge (or maybe a personal affront) and I hate to lose.  I have spent hours sitting with an unruly yarn mass trying to make order out of it. 

Years ago, I had a summer where I did not sleep for weeks on end.  I was having anxiety attacks multiple times a day.  I was crying and frightened and I had no idea why.  I remember thinking, "This makes no sense--things are going well in my life but I am a tangled mess."

At the encouragement of my family, I had to seek help.  I had to sort out what was going on.  It did not take long to discover that my current "tangle" had more to do with things that had happened years earlier than the present.  I had been carrying hurts and sadnesses for years and I had covered over them convincing myself that all was well.  Now it was time to go to work with the same determination with which I would tackle an out-of-control ball of yarn.

First I had to tell the truth about the facts of my life.  I had to call sin sin.  I had to bring things that had been living in secret into God's light.  This was not a comfortable process.  Just like the yarn I would pick and pick at those tight knotted places until finally they would loosen and release.  But sometimes just as I would get one area exposed, another area would pull closed.  I had to stick with it and leave no area unexamined in my life.

Second I had to challenge the lies that had been placed in my life about who I was and who God was.  Like many people, I was seeing God through the lens of my imperfect earthly father.  I did not (and at times still don't) understand perfect love.  I had no concept of unconditional love.  I thought I had to perform or do something to be loved--that's a lie, an awful part of the tangle.

Recently I have been reading 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 over and over again.  This gives us a working definition of perfect love.  It lets us know who God is because scripture says, "God is love."  It also gives us the framework for how to love others but most of all how to love ourselves.

Now back to our yarn!  When I get all the confusion sorted out, I have a huge sense of accomplishment.  But the other more wonderful thing is that the beautiful, perfectly round yarn ball is created with the exact same fiber as the once tangled mess.  There is no need to throw the yarn away and start over.  No, the yarn is redeemed and ordered and put to it's intended purpose.  God is taking the hurts, the joys, the good and bad experiences of my life and he is ordering them for his purposes.  He is making sense out of my tangle.

No Condemnation

"Therefore, there is now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus."  (Romans 8:1).

"What in the world do those words mean?  They make no sense to me," I thought. God is perfect and all-knowing so of course He would keep a complete, detailed list of all my wrong-doings and if  He was anything like my childhood family He would rehearse those shortcomings publicly at the most inopportune moments.  "How can you say, 'there's no condemnation?'"

I was praying for a clear understanding of those words when one morning my husband, Jim, called out to me and said, "Hey listen to this!"  In between bites of his morning oatmeal and strawberries he explained, "the fire department is going from house to house checking people's smoke detectors." My first reaction was, "Oh no, we'll fail!"

Jim went on to tell me the article explained that if the fire department members came to your house and found your smoke detectors in working order, you received a gift certificate for a pizza from the local pizzeria.  If the smoke detectors were missing or not working they installed working ones--no condemnation!  I get it now.

God comes into my life, looks around and for all the things that are going well, we celebrate.  For the things that are wrong, He says, "here, let me help you with that."--no condemnation, just love!

Drain, Fill, Dwell

Each afternoon at 3:00 I start the dialysis process.  For sixteen hours I go through five three-part cycles.  The first part of those cycles is the "drain."  All the old sugar solution in my abdominal cavity must be drained out.  The next part is the "fill."  New solution must be put back in.  And lastly there is the "dwell."  That is the hours when the sugar solution just stays put to do it's job of gathering fluid (just like sugar on strawberries).

Shortly after I was trained in this home dialysis therapy, it occurred to me that the process was identical to the emotional healing that has been taking place in my life.  I, like many people, had some rough places in my early childhood that had left me hurt and broken.  I have been on a journey to allow God to heal those things and get rid of their ongoing impact on my life. 

Often when I go through the "drain" during my dialysis sessions, it is uncomfortable.  My nurses call it "pain on drain."  (Nothing like a cute little rhyme to describe such an unpleasant occurrence.)  It is physically upsetting and it can be emotionally upsetting because I don't know when the pain will end.  Finding the resolve to bring past hurts into the light of God's love and healing has been a painful exercise.  Why would I want to dredge up those old things, feel shame or relive the harmful
experiences--that hurts and how long will it take before the pain ends?  But the old has to go so the new can come. 

In the New Testament it says, " Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come:  The old has gone, the new is here!"  (2 Corinthians 5:17)  That is what has been happening.  I can't say it has been the quickest journey I've ever been on--in fact at times the progress is unperceivable.  But the old is going and I am being filled with the new abundant life that God has promised.  I am finding joy and starting to challenge the lies that entered my life along with the hurts and harms. 


I am being filled with simple things I use to be too busy or sad to notice--a ride around a nearby lake, a herd of deer walking through the farm field behind our house, our silly gray cat jumping on our old dog's back.   I am being filled by seeing "snowglobe" snow through the window panes in our family room and by the evening newscast of a soldier returning home to surprise his/her child at school.  I am filled with pleasure as I watch my daughters flourish and find their passions in life (they are so much smarter than I was at their ages).  I am filled when I get to teach children of Jesus' inexhaustible love for them.

And then there's that third part of the cycle--the "dwell."   During the night I can check the LCD display on my dialysis machine to track the progress of the "drain" or the "fill" but when it's the "dwell" part of the cycle I have to just wait.  There is nothing that can be measured or tracked.  I don't like this part of the the night cycle because I can't tell what is happening.  I just have to trust that the sugar solution is doing it's job.  I have no control at this point.

The last three and half years of my life have been the longest "dwell" I have ever experienced.  There have been many points where I felt God had deserted me.   At times I have felt prayer was completely useless .  I have spent hours laying on our couch wondering why God spared my life and what in the world did I now have to offer.  The darkness has been palpable and I have not enjoyed waiting for God to reveal His next move.  I have questioned whether I have done something wrong and whether or not the promise I felt God made to me years before I became ill was just my wishful thinking or something to which I should steadfastly hold.  I don't know what is happening and I am not in control!  In the Old Testament God reaches out to His nation of Israel who has been exiled and He says, " For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11)  I am holding on to these words in my "dwell."

Bluebirds

The other morning, the fog was so thick that I could barely see.  As I rounded the corner, something caught my eye...a bluebird perched on a dried up milk weed plant.  It's soldier blue and orange colors stood out against a thick blanket of gray.  "Oh, I love bluebirds!, " I thought.

I remember being a little girl and going on a trip to visit distant cousins in upstate New York.  The family lived on a beautiful horse farm way out in the country.  As my siblings and I played outside on a sunny day, a bluebird landed on a fence post.  My mother, an avid bird watcher, started to squeal with delight and quickly pointed the bird out to us.  "These birds are almost extinct," she explained.  "There are almost none of them left in the United States.  It's so exciting that we get to see one today!"

I never forgot that childhood experience so you can image my joy when a couple of years ago a flock of bluebirds took up residence in our backyard.  Their colors thrill me every time I see them.  I think, "hooray...the bluebirds of happiness have come to my yard."

Here in Connecticut, people have worked hard to foster an environment for these nearly extinct birds to thrive.  Bird lovers, scouts and school children have installed bird houses that are especially suited for the bluebird.  People have put food in their feeders to attract the beautiful birds.  It has worked and the bluebirds have come!

Three and a half years ago, the life that I knew and loved came to a screeching halt.  My kidneys suddenly failed and I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer all in the same week.  Everything I had known in my life was turned up-side-down.  I did not recognized my own life.  Everything that was familiar and comfortable and safe was gone.

You're probably saying, "what does that have to do with bluebirds?"  Well  I feel like my old life is now extinct.   But there have been many many people who have created an environment for me to thrive.  Children have drawn me pictures and written me notes.  People have tirelessly prayed.  Others have made meals and cheered on every bit of good health news.  Friends have invited me out to breakfast and lunch. Still others have faithfully called and sent me cards, letters, and postcards. Healthcare providers have patiently helped me through the challenges.   And then there's my husband, Jim!  He has cooked, cleaned and helped me set up my daily dialysis.  He has taken every phone call I have made to him whether good or bad.  He has prayed day and sometimes in the middle of the night.  He has gone to all the doctor's appointments.  He has scouted out places he thought I could walk to on vacation.  I am coming back because of all these people who have invested so much on my behalf.  Thank you, thank you!