In the Presence of Greatness

 
 
Today I was in the presence of greatness as I heard Donald Trump present an address to Liberty University. Since hearing that he would appear in convocation this year, I have been inexplicably eager to witness this event. Other than the fact that I’ve been inside his Fifth Avenue tower in New York City, I guess the main reason for my excitement is that well...it’s just plain cool. He’s world renowned for many different reasons, but mostly because he’s a billionaire. How often do you get to be in the same room as a billionaire anyway? I also like his spunk.

The 10,000 seat arena was overflowing. We sat on the steps to listen to his address. We had all shown up to be in the presence of greatness. As we sat there, I recognized a particular young man with his camera. He shoots for the University and he was of course photographing The Don as he spoke. I thought back to April when my husband came as a guest lecturer from Nashville to address a senior class in the Graphics Design department. This same photographer shot him that day because somebody deemed David as “great” as well. I sat there connecting these two events in my mind thinking about why both of these men were considered great. Donald Trump certainly has given back in many different ways to the world through his riches. But mostly, I think he is considered great because of the wealthy empire and name he has built for himself. He has worked hard to get there and much can be learned from his business experience and advice. Why was David considered great enough to be photographed by the same person who covered Donald, though? That just blows my mind.

To sum it up, it was because of the work that he has done for others and the way that he got there.  The story that David shared when he visited in April was of how he responded and the actions he took two and a half years ago when he was given the news that he was being laid off from a failing small business. Through a hard work ethic on an uphill struggle, God provided many amazing opportunities for him to build his career, ultimately leading to a job with a very well recognized rock and roll band. Donald mentioned something very true today- if you’re going to make it in your industry- you have to be able to handle pressure. Chancellor Jerry Falwell, Jr. piped up and reminded us of what his father, the late Dr.Jerry Falwell, Sr., always used to say, “You do not determine a man’s greatness by his wealth, as the world does, but rather by what it takes to discourage him.” Considering the many times I heard him say those words while he was still living, I don’t think I really ever understood what that meant until today.  

Of course David experienced many moments of discouragement as he ran into closed doors or even walls. But he never gave up. He never reached the point of discouragement to just throw in the towel. He kept pressing on to find a way to support his family. At times he felt guilty that he was not able to provide the support we needed all on his own. He even felt like a failure sometimes. He didn’t give up, though. Along the way, he learned a lesson that money cannot buy- his success is not measured by how he can provide for his family, but by the impact he leaves on this earth for eternity. Yes, providing for his family is a very real goal of his, but he came to realize that everything we have is from the Lord and we are held accountable for how we choose to use it. As the journey out of unemployment progressed for him, because of the talent he displayed as well as humility, he was chosen out of two hundred people for a great job that led to another great job which is in fact, the Lord’s provision for us. The actuality that he got these two jobs isn’t what makes him feel successful, though, it’s knowing that he is able to help build an empire and a name greater than his own- one that will last for eternity-one that is made by putting his own agenda aside and investing in the lives of others. Rather than being bitter about the choice a few people made to end his paycheck, he has vocalized that the best way to get revenge is by how you choose to live your life.

By the world’s standards, Donald Trump has it all. He is considered great for that. But by his own admission today, those riches of his are “peanuts” compared to his faith and family. I hope he really means that. Really I do. Because in the end, all of our greatness falls short compared to the only one whose greatness is truly significant- our great God. The single aspect of a great man that truly matters is what he does for eternity. Our Pastor back in Nashville always encourages us to go beyond the table of common grace and to dine at the table of amazing grace. David commented today that Trump just has a bit of a larger portion at the table of common grace- where the standard gifts of survival that the Lord gives to humanity comes from. However, our daily meal reservations are at the table of amazing grace. We never go hungry no matter how much money is or isn’t in our bank account or how loud our stomachs may growl. We feast on the Bread of Life. We hope that Trump is more than a billionaire. We hope that he is as rich as we are.

The words of Mrs.Rhea F. Miller and melody that George Beverly Shea put to them sang in my heart as I listened to one of the wealthiest men on the planet,

“I’d rather have Jesus than silver or gold; I’d rather be His than have riches untold: I’d rather have Jesus than houses or lands. I’d rather be led by His nail-pierced hand. Than to be the king of a vast domain or be held in sin’s dread sway. I’d rather have Jesus than anything this world affords today.”

The same shutter snapped photographs of both of these two great men. Yet, only the photographs of he who is great because of the sake of the unending domain of Christ will remain visible in the frames of eternity. The only one who will be looking at those frames, though, is the one whose reflection is caught in their glass as He says, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant...You have made me great.” The rest of us will simply be looking at Him (that is if our faces aren’t flat on the ground already) because we are finally in the presence of true greatness.

Reaching Beyond My Reach

Last week you read that we’ve moved to Virginia. So, now what? What sort of work am I going to be doing while David is off being a rock star professor? I’m about to tell you, but I feel like a major phony just thinking about typing these words. I am going to be a writer. This is where I should do something clever like draw a line through that last sentence and say, “Scratch that, I am a writer.” It’s true. I am a writer. Now, if I can just get myself to believe that, we’ll be in business.

I have trouble believing it, because I think people see that as a nice way of saying that I’m going to be a housewife...a lady of leisure... a kept woman. Granted, most of my family and closest friends have been more than supportive and encouraging about this announcement. The thing is, it is scary. I’ve had a lot of moments where I have almost psyched myself out of this whole Big Hairy Audacious Goal (BHAG) because I believed that people would not view this as a real job since I’m not going to get paid for now. But, it is. Writing is what I am called to do.

I’ve been writing at least since the second grade when I somehow convinced my teacher to let me direct my own version of The Little Mermaid during school in front of an audience of those in my class who weren’t acting in the play and some of our parents. I even convinced her to let us have brownies. Oh. And then there was third grade, when I wrote an Emily Pereira original, “The Lost Sea Captain,” and held practices at my classmate, Matt’s, house and then put on the production in front of the entire elementary school during chapel. Personal poems and short stories were sprinkled throughout my elementary age writing career as well. I’m having an “aha” moment as I reminisce over these early foundations in my call to writing. It would seem that the reason why these teachers let me get away with these things was because they believed in me. Wow. Why has it taken me 18 years to realize this? Those sneaky little things...making me feel like I was being the sneaky one by convincing them to let me shut down class time to show my productions... all along they were encouraging my call to writing.

Can I just pause to say that I’m sorry for using the word, “I” so much in this entry? It’s just inevitable for this week. Next week, hopefully that word will appear a lot less. (See that...I’m tricking myself by putting in a commitment to show up again next week. There it is, for all the world to see.  I have to come back next week. Hopefully you’ll come too).

When I started college, I was going to be a History major because I loved the subject. After a semester of staying up until 4 AM memorizing dates and facts, Elementary Education had me at “Hello, cute arts and crafts”. As I got into it, I didn’t really feel as if I was like the rest of the elementary ed majors. I just wasn’t as into it as they were. Those Standards Of Learning lesson plans just plain out made me uncomfortable because I was afraid that the kids I taught would miss out on something the government wanted them to know and it would be all my fault. I wanted to teach kids so I could have an impact on them like my teachers had had on me. I didn’t know how to mix teaching the facts with teaching life lessons like so many talented teachers do.  

So, why do I believe that writing is my calling? After all, it’s been nearly two decades since my whole interest in this trade started and I'm not really that interested in writing fiction anymore. Life is far more attention grabbing than fiction to me these days. The truth is, I didn’t realize that it was what God had for me until He developed my story just a little further. Further till the point of crisis. My crisis started when I got the phone call from my Daddy the last week of my Freshman year of college after he told me that he had stage four osteosarcoma and that the doctors had given him six months to live. I was literally sitting by his deathbed coloring pages for my elementary education notebook final that was due when I realized that I had a much more pressing calling on my life. I had the calling to share the stories of God’s faithfulness through some of the darkest moments of my life with the rest of the world- even if just one person could be encouraged and know that there is a way full of hope out of the pit of despair. Even if that person was just...well...me. That’s when I decided to become an English major.

Since then, I’ve had several different jobs. They have been great learning experiences and opportunities to impact the world around me. But all along, I have said, “Well, I was an English major because I want to be a writer some day, but something has to pay the bills in the meantime and I see this as a time to gain stuff to write about.” Someday is here and it scares the stew out of me. But it’s time to put that training into action and to do what the co-founder of my Alma Mater, Elmer Towns, challenged this particular student in his class with, “If you want to reach beyond your reach, write.” So here I am, reaching beyond my reach. Get ready to read more from the “ink” of the (web) pages that are to come. And know this- what I want to reach you and anyone else out there with is the message that no matter what hurt or change you are going through, the one who I have drawn hope from in my most vulnerable, lonely days is the same one you can draw hope from because He never alters and He knows your pain. His name is Jesus and if you don’t know Him, allow me to introduce you to Him. He’s my most loyal friend and I know He would love to be yours.

Right now, all I can reach is a mouse and a keyboard. Here goes reaching beyond my reach.

My Life Got Flip Turned Upside Down

Well, in the words of Will Smith, “This is a story all about how my life got flip turned upside down. And I’d like to take a minute just sittin right there to tell you how I...” Well... let’s switch over to my words because I definitely didn’t become the Prince of BelAir...

When the New Year’s Ball was dropping this year, I had no idea what a major change was ahead of us. Our lives had already been through quite a bit of turmoil the past couple years due to David’s lay off, but we had learned to deal with that and be creative in making ends meet.Truthfully, we were forced to cut it dangerously close or had to just put some things on hold at a few points. But, through His sovereignty and the blessing of family pitching in when needed, God provided through every step of that journey. We never went to the poor house, though it felt like we’d be there soon at some points. We never went to bed hungry. We never had possessions reclaimed from us. We had a roof over our heads and love to keep us warm.

It feels like we’ve been sprinting up an icy slope the past couple years trying to recover from the financial hardship of having a full time job stripped away from us. Oh, the stories we have of trying to survive. That husband of mine truly is superman if you ask me. He worked in a file room sorting papers. He made himself go out on field days to try to drum up business for his own freelance graphic design company, returning with clients in the fortune 500 industry, musicians, historical societies, and tourist attractions. He photographed weddings, families, and events no matter how rude and ungrateful the clients. He interviewed all over town over the span of two years while being led on that he was in the top two picks almost every time, always to receive no phone call at the end of the day. He even interviewed at one place eight separate times, including the time he showed up the morning after his car was totalled on his way home from picking up printed pieces from Kinkos for his portfolio for his interview. He enrolled himself in Graduate School, with my blessing to count the cost of the debt we would go into from that as an investment that would last a lifetime. Not too much later, he was chosen out of over 200 people to be the graphic designer for a Billboard Top 10 Rock and Roll band. I can assure you that the pay is not rockstar pay, though. I was the “big” bacon earner with my part time job at church up until July. Really, we had been living at the poverty level or below. Though we had been digging our nails into the icy cliffs of climbing out of unemployment for so long, we were grateful to the Lord for His provision and we were excited about all the exciting opportunities that were coming our way. Those opportunities were priceless. Unfortunately, though, our bills were not. We began to wonder when we would ever get out of the phase of just scraping by.

We had been desperately, often tearfully, praying that God would provide a job with full time pay and benefits. We had an idea of how we thought this would work out and we assumed we would be in Nashville almost indefinitely. But, around April, the winds started to shift. David received a few phone calls here and there from his old professor asking if he would like to move back to Virginia to teach a class or two. It was never enough to warrant such a huge move, though. We discussed it and decided that Virginia just was not in God’s plans for us at that point. We thought there would be much more opportunity in the area we were (not sure why, though, since nothing major had happened in over 2.5 years in that department for us) or another metropolitan area. July 1st, though, we got a call that changed everything. It was for a full time job with benefits for David. And it would be for what he has been working for in getting his Masters of Fine Arts...to be a Professor teaching Graphic Design and Photography. It was the perfect job and the answer to our prayers. Yet, I was devastated.

People would ask me if I was excited and I’d usually say that it was bittersweet because we hated to leave our friends and church in Nashville, but we were excited about the new opportunity in Lynchburg. But if people caught me at a really honest, vulnerable moment, I’d share that I actually was not excited at all, but I was sad.

What a nutcase I am. I did not want to go back to the small town we had worked so hard to move away from. Yet, 3.5 years prior, as we were rolling the Penske into Nashville moving away from Virginia, I cried then too, saying, “I’m not a big city girl, David. I’m just a mountain girl.” Yet, back to those mountains I was headed again, this time crying, “I don’t want to leave Nashville. I love it here. I’m going to miss my friends and my church and the people I work with and our house and it’s going to be boring in Lynchburg. We’re not going to make any friends and we’ll never find a church as good as ours in Nashville.” (Insert breath here). Oh the meltdowns I had in that Penske as we drove into the night away from all our hopes and dreams in music city.

Well, I began to unpack...mostly alone while David was getting oriented with his new job. He would come home so excited about his new job. I was extremely happy for him. But, I was also wallowing in my own lonely pity party most of the rest of the time.

Strangely, enough, this probably only lasted about two weeks. It was the evening before our first official venture to visit a new church. I bawled my eyes out and told David that I was overwhelmingly sad because I just knew that there would not be another church like were members of in Nashville.

The next day we went to church and the Holy Spirit went after me. There are many things that can become idols in our lives if we are not careful. I realized as we sat there listening to the message that God was just as present in this body of believers as He was in Nashville and that I had inadvertently been idolizing the church we belonged to, making myself believe that it just couldn’t be topped. God spoke to my heart reminding me that He had called us back to Lynchburg because He not only was providing for the major need of a full time job with benefits that we needed, but also for us to enter into a new season of ministry. Once that sin became clear to me and I listened to His voice, things started feeling more “right side up” than “upside down.”

Despite my funky mood about this move, throughout it all, we have had conversation over conversation about how much of a fulfillment of Romans 8:28 that everything- good and bad- we’ve experienced especially over the last two and a half years has been. It is true, “And we know that all things work together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purposes.” Often I’ll just break down in the middle of what we’re talking about and say to David, “It’s just Romans 8:28...It’s just Romans 8:28.”

Yes, I do miss our friends, church, home, and activities in Nashville dearly. Yet, just as God provided for every need of our tumultuous two years, He is providing not only tangible things, but intangible things as well here in Lynchburg. Within a week of David’s orientation, we already made new friends! Not to mention the old friends we are enjoying getting together with as well! We’ve been basking in the new to us section of the city we’re living in as well as the perks of living close to exciting places such as our nation’s capitol. We’re living in a dream house... a 1939 beauty that is just so Virginian that we feel like we live at Monticello. And...we’re living in the mountains again. They’re not my mountains from North Carolina, but they’re a close second. And more often than not, when my eye catches a glimpse of those mountains, the sweet breath of my maker who is known by so many good and faithful characteristics such as Jehovah Jirah- God who Provides, Jehovah Rohi- God who Protects, and Jehovah Rohpi- God who Heals whispers in my ear the words of the Psalmist saying,

"I lift up my eyes to the mountains- where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of Heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip- He who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord watches over you- the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all harm- he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore." Psalm 121:1-8

So maybe, after all, my life needed to be flip turned upside down so that I could lay on my back and look up at the mountains He made, remembering that His plans are always right side up.

What the Cross Means to Me

            A couple weeks ago, our Life Group leader asked us the question, “What does the Cross mean to you?” The answer immediately came into my mind, but I just didn’t feel like I could verbalize it at that moment in time without bawling my eyes out. So, instead, I listened to other people’s answers and marveled over how the cross is so very personal to each individual that Jesus gave His life for. I was able to say a few remarks later in class and then had a conversation with my husband on the way home that sort of brought it all together for me.

            When the question, “What does the Cross mean to you,” comes up around me, my mind flashes back to October of 2003. I was on the tenth floor of St.Joseph’s Hospital in Asheville, North Carolina overlooking the most beautiful view of the mountainous city. We were in the family waiting room taking a breather from the agony of watching my Daddy being eaten alive by cancer.  His nurse came in to check on us and also to have a chat with us. What she said absolutely took the breath out of us. She said to my mom, “Mam, I just want you to know that what your husband is going through right now is very much what Jesus went through on the Cross. He is being asphyxiated and suffocating to death.”

            By this point, the cancer had metastasized in his entire body, including his lungs, which were full of fluid. Pretty much daily, he had to have a hole drilled in his back and a tube hooked up to it in order to drain the fluid out so that he could have any chance of breathing. But, it was to no avail. It just kept filling back up.  The sound of him gasping for air made us gasp for air as well so as not to just burst into tears in front of him.

            She was so right. I knew it. My Daddy had preached on this very subject more times than I could remember. Now he was experiencing suffocation like Jesus did. When they hung Jesus on the Cross after already being beaten, they placed the nails in his hands and feet, and he had to push himself up to gasp for air because the position of his body messed with his lung capacity so much that there was no other way to catch a breath.

            I often thought to myself throughout the six month and two day battle my Daddy fought with cancer of what a vivid picture of sin it was. His battle was an indirect result of sin because after the fall of man disease entered the world, while others around us were experiencing direct results of sin because of wrong choices they had made. Daddy was dying one of the most wretched deaths you could ever imagine because sin had entered the world way back in the Garden of Eden. From the day he was diagnosed, he said, “Why NOT me?” I can’t say the same for myself. I asked God why a few times. He was one of the most righteous men I knew and so many other people who were living like the Devil were just as healthy as could be.

            I’ll never know the complete reason on this side of Heaven why He chose him. But, God’s shown me many reasons why he saw fit to trust my Daddy to die that way. Maybe some day I can share some of the amazing God stories of people that He has connected us with to encourage and be encouraged that have shared similar struggles. But today, I’ll just share why He showed me more about the cross through the death of my Daddy than He has in any other vehicle.

            Jesus took on the “cancer” of the world that SHOULD have suffocated US after it had ravaged our lives when He died on the cross for our sins. Not only did the metastasized mess that we all made overwhelm his perfect being, it literally took the very breath out of His body and forced Him into death. We deserved to experience that and stay there…dead…dead in our trespasses and sins. He did it for us, though.  But that wasn’t all.

            Throughout Daddy’s last days, he kept on saying, “Enough’s enough. Enough is enough.” Additionally, he had an unquenchable thirst between Gatorade, Cranberry Juice, and Milk. On November 7, 2003…God said it was, indeed, enough to this despicable disease.

            I kept thinking about those words he said countless times and then I realized why they sounded so familiar. After having His last drink on earth- that of wine vinegar-Jesus had said the same words in a different language, “ It.Is.Finished.” (John 19:30).

            It was finished. It? Yes, it. He had the “cancer” of the world transfused into His body so that we could have the definition of health running through our veins. It was dead now. Finished. Enough was enough.

            Just a fraction of a hair before he took his last ride to the hospital, Daddy preached His last sermon from his church office. We’ve got the video to prove he was a bag of bones himself. Through breathless whispers in the Swannanoa Valley, He preached the most powerful sermon of His life on Ezekiel and the valley of dry bones.

            Listen to the Word of God for a moment, “The hand of the Lord was upon me, and he brought me out by the Spirit of the Lord and set me in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me back and forth among them, and I saw a great many bones on the floor of the valley, bones that were very dry. He asked me, “Son of man, can these bones live?” I said, “O Sovereign Lord, you alone know.” Then he said to me, “Prophesy to these bones and say to them, ‘Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord! This is what the Sovereign Lord says to these bones: I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life. I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin; I will put breath in you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the Lord.” (Ezekiel 37:1-7)

            So, Ezekiel did what the Lord had commanded him to do, but at first there was no breath in them. So, do you know what the Lord told him to do? Prophesy to the breath and say, “Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe into these slain, that they may live” (v.9). So he did. Just wait. Are you ready?! 

            This was what the Lord said back to him, “Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, ‘Our bones are dried up and our hope is gone; we are cut off.’ Therefore prophesy and say to them: ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: O my people, I am going to open your graves and bring you up from them; I will bring you back to the land of Israel. Then you, my people will know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves and bring you up from them. I will put my Spirit in you and you will live, and I will settle you in your own land. Then you will know that I the Lord have spoken, and I have done it, declares the Lord.” (11-14).

            Do you see how this relates?! Those d-e-a-d bones of ours that were CUT OFF because of the valley they were in…the valley of the shadow of death you know… were made ALIVE! Why? Why? Why?! Because the Spirit of the Lord breathed on them. That’s why. So when Jesus said it was finished on the Cross… IT WAS. Those old dead bones that we were would be buried. Oh, but then they’d be brought back up from the grave back to the Kingdom of God. Why? Was it just so we could escape what we deserved from the “cancer” of this world? No. It was so that we would know that HE IS THE LORD from His very own Spirit…the one that He had given up along with His last breath and that our life would be His own.

You know what Daddy’s closing words were in his last sermon? “Breathe on me, breath of God.” Those old cancer ridden bones of His will rise from the grave some day when Jesus comes back. But those old sin bones of his… they’re gone… and He’s feeling the wind of the breath of God right now. That’s going to happen for me too some day and for you too, if you’ve asked Him to breathe new Life into you.

          

  The breath of God respired into a bag of bones where enough is enough…

that’s what the Cross means to me.

           

Two Years Later

This past Thursday marked the two year anniversary of my husband's lay off. You have no idea what a milestone that is in our lives. More than half of our marriage, we have been on the journey of uncertainties from this event. The choice that a few men at a small company made have affected every day of our lives since then. March 22, 2010 will always be a profound date in our hearts.

I've been thinking about the anniversary of this date frequently as of late, so I was very prepared for it when it came this week. Ironically, my husband had no idea of the occasion this past Thursday, which is just how I had hoped his day would go. I woke up realizing what day it was, but he happily went about his day. We were walking down a sidewalk in Downtown Nashville on our way to a restaurant before we cashed in my Christmas gift from him for a night at the Theatre, when I looked over at him and said, "Baby, it's been two years. And we've made it. I'm so proud of you." He looked at me not with the eyes full of pain that I've seen over the past two years, but with beautiful, bright eyes filled with hope and said, "Wow. I did not even realize today was the anniversary! You're right!"

Though there has been much heart ache these past few years resulting from that definitive day, there has been much more development of faith, humility, and character than we ever expected in our lives. Never once has the One Who Owns the Cattle on a Thousand Hills failed to provide our every need. Never. Never has He left us or forsaken us. Never. Never has He left us in our pit and not provided a way out. Never. For those reasons, we have had dancing hearts especially the past six months.

All that we have and all that we do can be taken from us in an instant. Perhaps that is one of the most valuable lessons we learned through this whole experience. More valuable than that, though, we have come to realize that all that we have and do belongs to God. We are just stewards of what He has given us- including our jobs.

Romans 8:28 has been a verse that I've always held very close to my heart because it was my Granddaddy's life verse. I can't stop pounding my fist in exclamation at the truth of it, because we have lived it. This certainly is not limited to the past two years of our lives, but it has been dramatically highlighted for us especially looking back over the time span of it all from where we were to where God has brought us. Dreams that we never could have dreamed on our own have come true all because of that terrible day. "And we know that ALL things work together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose."

There are several key phrases to that verse...

#1. ALL things work together for good.

Good and Bad. Isn't that incredible how even the worst of days can be for our own good? Countless times we've remarked over how stuck we would be if he was still at that particular job. Really, it was the vehicle God used to move us to Nashville for much greater things that He had in mind for our good, but more importantly HIS good plan for His own glory. Hallelujah!

#2. Those who love Him.

If we didn't love Him, we would not be experiencing His goodness. I believe we'd be experiencing way more of our own bitterness if we didn't love Him. Ohhhhhhhh but the beauty of it all is that HE FIRST LOVED US! We can love Him because He first loved us. He is so good. We all have the opportunity to love Him if we choose to. I think much of it boils down to the choice we are each given- choose life or choose death. Death comes from wallowing in your own misery. Believe, me, I've wallowed a couple times and smelled the stench of death of all that I thought should be. But, when I was resuscitated by the giver of all breath, I realized that I already had the victory because I had the LIFE living in me and nothing could separate me from the Love of God, which is what gives me life and woos me to love Him back.

#3. Called according to His purpose.

This is something else that has genuinely blown our minds. How on earth can anyone feel true satisfaction in life living only for their own purposes? As my dad often remarked, "Life is like a game of Monopoly. When the game is over, it all goes back in the box." There were opportunities along the way these past two years to sell out for a quick sizable paycheck. But, we could not justify those job offers because they did not mesh with God's purpose. Our patience and trust were tested and God has showed us great reward in waiting on His timing. Our chief goal is to know Him and to make Him known. He has blessed us with the most unconventional ways of doing that. The thought of how we could have missed out on those blessings makes me want to fall to my knees and rip my clothes. The sovereignty of God far outweighs the sorrows in our lives.

Those plans for good and not for harm...for hope and a future that He talks about in Jeremiah 29:11... Yeah, He does work ALL things together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purposes. He turns our tears of sorrow into floods of joy. He lifts us up and takes our hands to dance with us. He.Turns.Our.Mourning. Into. Gladness.

So back to our walk this past Thursday. After dinner, we stopped outside the Tennessee Performing Arts Center before going in to see Mary Poppins so we could take a picture to remember the occasion. We were turned to take the picture and I looked just beyond us only to see a beautifully lit sky illuminating the State Capitol Building. Wow. We had come full circle. A week after David lost his job two years prior, he was miraculously offered a freelance photography job to capture the State Capitol Building on the occasion of Earth Hour for the World Wild Life Foundation. It's ironic, because it was not like we were patrons of that foundation or anything. A photographer who had been too busy to shoot it just googled Nashville photographers and came up with David. The job payed $350, which to us was a fortune. The other photographer's explanation to David for why he was selected? "Just blame it on Providence." And that was only the beginning.

I close these thoughts with an insight I gleamed from watching Mary Poppins this drizzly March eve in Nashville. The play took on such different meaning for us this day than ever before. Prior, I'd just enjoyed the light heartedness of it. Never did I recognize it was centered around the climate of job turmoil and how a family responded to that. The most poignant segment to me was when George Banks was marching into the bank with only the two coins his children had given him jingling in his pocket toward what he thought would be his complete lay off. He was stopped by the wretched looking bird lady, who said, "Tuppence. Feed the Birds." George pulled the coins his children had sacrificially invested in him out of his pocket and said to her, "Mam, I would consider it a great honor if you would take this tuppence and feed the birds for me." Gladly, she did as the words to her song were fulfilled, "Come feed the birds. Show them that you care."

"Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." (Matthew 10:29-31).

Oh yes, my friends, His eye is on the sparrow... and I know He watches me!

Music Appreciation 101

Music is something I can either go a really long time without getting into or something that spurs me on to play a D.J. in the car jamming to tunes that make me believe that I truly have a voice like the late great Whitney Houston. (I do not. I really probably sound more like a cross between William Hung and your Great Aunt Petunia singing in the shower. Except for this one ego booster of when a lady sitting in front of us at church turned around and told me that she didn't need to sing because she enjoyed hearing my voice so much. Wow. That was an amazing "pretty voice" ego booster. But, I digress). Anyway- it's something that my husband and I have valued quite differently from each other.

We just inherited a giant pile of CD's from one of his music industry bosses to sort through. It was sort of like Christmas as we went through them all. I have quite an eclectic taste in music. My jives span from oldies from the likes of Elvis, Buddy Holly, & the Beach boys to N'Sync, Backstreet Boys, & Brittany Spears to Tim McGraw, Faith Hill, & Johnny Cash to U2, Coldplay, and Adele to KC & JoJo, Will Smith, Monica & Brandy to Third Day, Avalon, & Mandisa. Of course my favorite band is NEEDTOBREATHE. See. I am an undefined musical mess.

My husband, on the other hand, knows all of these obscure bands that either no one has heard of but audiophiles or that he discovers before the charts do. He's really good at that. He loves vinyls so much that he organizes them over and over and over just to see what's in his collection. The reason we inherited that pile of CD's is because his boss knew this about him and that he would be the perfect guy for that odd job.

I've had music on my mind a lot lately because of the job that God has opened the doors for David to work in. As I was washing the dishes tonight, I flashed back to one of the first conversations David and I ever had, which spurred me on to send him a package of CD's just in time for his birthday. I really didn't know that I had romantic feelings for him at the time, but I genuinely cared for him.

We each came from different backgrounds related to music. Basically, I was raised on Gospel & Oldies. Every day on the way to school, we would ride with my Dad, who happened to be my Pastor as well, and jam out to oldies on Magic 96.1 and also listen to the Christian Radio Station sporadically. Some of my best memories are of my sister and me singing to the top of our lungs with my dad to oldies and he was drill us asking, "Who sings that?" If we got it wrong, he would always tease us and say, "No!!!! It's _____! You're uneducated!" I loved it when he did that. I loved it even more when I would guess the correct musician and he'd say, "Yep!" It was no secret how much he loved oldies. The whole church knew he was an Elvis fan. And that was just fine. Because they knew his heart for Jesus penetrated everything he encountered.

I remember a teacher in high school challenging us about music. I totally agree with the mantra of "garbage in, garbage out" that he was encouraging us with. He was educating us that its important to balance the music we listen to. There is certain music that should be listened to more as "candy" than as the meat we listen to. I have to be honest. While I listen to Christian radio every morning on the way to work to start my day, I can really relate to some of the songs that are played and have a wonderful worship/ mind preparing experience. Yet, there are other times when I just have to turn the radio off or to a different station because it all begins to sound the same and I don't feel challenged or engaged. Those are the times when I either turn it off completely, listen to candy (Ha! Candy for me probably would be old school R&B like Brandy & Monica...So full of Soul & Passion, but not really doing much for any kind of personal development).

Anyway- back to my story that I was beginning before all of this background information. So, when David and I first started talking about our tastes in music, he shared that sometimes he really struggled because he did not like a lot of Christian music because it just wasn't good. Good as in quality- not necessarily lyrics or anything like that. He had grown up going to church camps that guilted you into destroying all of your non Christian CD's in a fire. I will admit, I broke some of my own CD's as well that really were not edifying and had some lyrics that I realized after buying them that just were not clean. That was a wise choice destroying those. However, the ones David was encouraged to burn (not reproducing burn, but toasting on a hotdog stick burn) were from musicians that did not represent anti- Christ messages. Actually some of them probably pointed more to Christ than some Christian bands do.

So, David and I had the candy conversation that I was discussing earlier. He liked what I had to say, so I took it upon myself to send him some meat, candy, and education. (IE: A Christian Mix, A bunch of random songs I like, and a Country Mix because he hated Country). He reciprocated. I found that most of the selections he chose for the CD's he sent me were far superior to mine.

For years I have listed to the music he has introduced me to, just learning the songs. I am very guilty of zoning out in songs and not really paying attention to the lyrics. He truly pays attention to the lyrics, though, and corrects my moments of "you're not educated." I do educate him quite a bit,though, in the Oldies, Country, and R&B realms, which is quite fun! His education is far wiser, though.

He has helped me to realize that the music penetrates of our culture plays a humongous role in the shaping of our minds. Theoretically, I already knew this. I AM an English major, you know. I know this from the progression of literature in our civilization. It was so much more obvious to me in literature than it was in music. That is until Cold Play connected it for me. They happen to be David's favorite band. I realized what literary geniuses and flops there are in the music industry. If you look to their two latest records, you see the theme of the first one is "Lost" and the theme of the second album is "Paradise." Duh. John Milton's Paradise Lost. How ignorant I was.

Previously, I would have thought of bands like Coldplay as "Candy" and sort of encouraged David not to immerse himself in that. Yet, their lyrics are so much deeper than my shallow interpretations. We do all have a Paradise Lost, don't we? We've fallen away from how our Creator intended for our lives to be- perfect harmony. We all search for something to fill that God shaped abyss in our hearts. I've read interview after interview from that band in particular and wow. It is incredible to see God at work in their lives to bring Him to Himself through His Son, Jesus. At the moment, I don't know that they've totally found Him, but oh the things He has done to reveal Himself to them- like reading the entire book of Revelation! That just blows my little so-I-thought organized mind. His ways are not our ways.

So, what is the point of me writing this post? Is it just to talk about my progression in musical taste? No. I think it's to thank my husband, who some how was attracted to me after I sent him that first musical package. He has helped to mature in my thought process of the importance of music and to not take it for face value- individual songs with individual words, but to look at the depth of the gifts that God has given to talented musicians who are made in His image and searching for Him, finding elements of His truth along the way in a world where Paradise was indeed Lost, but has been redeemed through THE Truth, Jesus Christ. May each artist's search end in redemption and each wandering heart be tuned to the melody of His Amazing Grace.

Story

It's been awhile since I've tickled the blogosphere keys. However, I've had a lot of thoughts swirling throughout my brain about wondrous things God's been doing in our lives. It all boils down to one word: story.

I've never been so utterly aware of the fact that I am a character in a very intricate plot as I have been of late. We all get caught up in what's going on in our own lives on occasion- the struggles and triumphs- so much that we forget how deeply we are connected to a greater story. We also neglect the fact that the isolated pieces of our lives are not actually solitary, but are congruent to each other. It's almost like we each have a distinct tale that is related to one before, beside, or after us (or even all of the above). I don't know...like a Canterbury Tale or something. You know, like how each one some how mentions one of the other tales, however remains distinctly unique? The beauty is that they all work to comprise a complete volume of a people created by the same author.

A story is quite boring if it lacks plot and character development, isn't it? Oh how our hearts bleed, though, when a character goes through a particularly awful struggle and then leaps in celebration of victory. Sighs of relief are breathed when everything seems to be going swimmingly, yet longer sighs are heaved when it stays that way too long. The story has to remain in motion in order to captivate the audience and to move the protagonist along.

Isn't that how life is? At times it may feel like your story is isolated and the rest of the world has forgotten its gravity. Then, you find you're actually part of an epic story that's been going on since the beginning of time. Really, your story is just a chapter with miniature chapters. Not to draw equal comparison to inerrant Scripture, but you could even call those miniature chapters verses I suppose. Yet, your story is included in the volume intentionally- with ever so much thought and care. You are a character who has the option to be aware that your author is moving the pen of eternity to script you into the most intricate plot, where true heroism offers glory to the author for even lifting the pen in the first place.

Do you know that when 'the bell tolls' like John Donne contemplated, that it 'tolls for you'? You are not 'an island unto yourself' as Mr.Donne remarked. You are part of the great world novel...far better than the illustrious great American novel. And if you love the author that is penning your story and realize that you've been called into this roll for His purposes, He works all things together for your good because He IS good... not to mention...He's a good story teller, worthy of prizes far loftier than Pulitzers. He's worthy of every crown He gives you. You'll lay them at His feet some day I'm sure. But in the mean time, why not pay him the best homage you can in this land that He has created and retell HisStory... the Greatest Story ever told?