Today I felt the roughness of tree bark under my hand.

I felt the breeze in my hair.

I felt the cool grass under my bare feet.

And the soft delicate petal of a dogwood bloom.

I reveled in the bright beauty of an azalea bush.

I noticed the long shadows left by the setting sun.

I smelled the freshness of a new green leaf.

I noticed two birds chasing each other on the horizon.

I felt the sunshine on my face.

And the Son in my heart.

Thank you, Lord, for your reminders of love.


http://farm1.static.flickr.com/128/322845787_752848c872.jpg
http://images.quickblogcast.com/1/0/8/2/5/162433-152801/bare_feet_in_grass.jpg

Plans

Is it not funny how life can change instantaneously? You wait for months for something to happen and then >bam<, within 30 minutes there it is. Or you wait to meet someone and then >bam<, out of the blue there they are. Or you are unsure what you're doing and then >bam<, within 24 hours you get your answer. And is it not also funny how oftentimes, or usually, the answer is not what you hoped it would be, or imagined it would be, yet it is for the better because you know God orchestrated it?

Maybe funny is not the right word. The word could be aggravating, annoying, ironic, unnerving, or any other such negative word. But I prefer funny. Because when we look back, that is usually what we do: laugh.

Wall of Fame

My face is going to be on a wall. No, not a "most wanted" sign. My face will be on a plaque and displayed in a case in Hackman Hall. The words "outstanding scholastic achievement" will be near my picture. Along with a few other of my classmates, our faces will join the faces of other students gone before us who excelled while at Southern. It really is an honor to be part of that wall in Hackman hall. Until the Lord comes or some disaster strikes the school, a record of my time at Southern will be recorded on that wall. I excelled and attained "outstanding scholastic achievement" during my time at Southern.

But what in the world does that mean? One could say that the past 17 years of education are what led to a plaque and recognition for a scholastic achievement. From Kindergarten to a Senior in college, I have done very well. "Well done, Lorrie, you have done an outstanding job." Why thank you. I appreciate it. I really do. I am grateful for the journey I have been able to take through the halls of acadamia. But attaining "outstanding scholastic achievement" really gives me no bragging rights. It does not guarantee me a job. It does not guarantee me anything. Perhaps it is a sentence to put on my resume. Maybe it will give me a boost if I go to Grad School. But it may not as well. Scholastics is not experience.

As I reflect on my face on the wall, I guess I do approach the feat a bit cynically. I suppose it is a big deal? And I do care. I am very thankful. It is an honor. But I am not bursting with joy. Perhaps it is the realization of an end of a journey. Perhaps it is the uncertainty of future plans.

Perhaps it is because I was not trying to get on the wall. If I did not win the honor and get my face on the wall I would not have cried a tear. I have never had ambitions of glory, I have just always tried to do my best. I have studied and listened. I have taken notes and researched. I have gone to class every day and done what the syllabus said to do.

I guess I realize that if it were not for the first 5 years of my life before stating this long academic journey that the past 17 years of success in school would not have been possible. Psychologists say that in the first 6 years of life the majority of your personality and disposition is solidified. So who you were in Kindergarten is most likely very similar to the way you are today.

So I really owe that plaque to my parents and to God. I would not be on that wall if it were not to them. Now obviously I am not a cookie-cutter product of people but by submitting to God my parents have raised me the way they have. By submitting to God I have been able to do my best in school with the gifts He has given me.

So when I walk down that aisle in less than 3 weeks with my honor cords and flowing gown, I will be proud. I will be proud of the success that we have achieved. And I will pray that this knowledge within will produce a servant of Him in the future. After all, I owe Him everything.

A Tale of Tori

There once was a girl named Tori* who lived in the state of NY. Over Christmas that year she had a grand ole’ time but during that vacation something unfortunate happened. Her father got sick. Her mother got sick and then her brother got sick. But Tori didn’t get sick. She denied that it was a possibility. “I never get sick” she prided herself and tried to ignore the slight cough she started to develop. Tori was relieved when she went back to school. “Tennessee may not be warm in January “she said “but it is a lot warmer than home”. However Tori’s cough continued and to her astonishment it got worse. “I don’t understand” she thought each day when she would catch her breath after a good cough. Several weeks after getting back Tori realized how cold it was in her room. It was So Cold. Sitting on her bed which is in front of the window she looked around and noticed how much colder it was at that specific part of her room. Then she saw something. “Aha!” Her window, though closed and locked had a crack all along the front. Putting her hand there she felt the cold air wafting in to the room. “No wonder I am coughing. This is what I am breathing every night as I sleep.” So Tori, being the sensible girl that she is, made haste to cover that window up good and tight. “Ah, now I will get better,” Tori thought.

But she didn’t. In fact she got worse. In time she developed a fever and sniffles to add to her cough. Tori even moved her mattress to the living room and slept there to not infect her roommate. Tori did not understand what was going on.

Now this seems like a sad tale but it illustrates some important points which we as Christians need to be careful of. Tori was sleeping next to the means of her illness. She was oblivious to the fact that she was essentially cuddling up to what was making her sick. How much do we in our own lives subject ourselves to the influences of sinful behaviors without our conscious knowing? If Tori had just been observant she would have noticed the window right in front of her which was letting in that cold air. What do we have in our lives- like a window- which is not in itself- bad but what it can let through that produces evil? Computers- something Tori tends to waste a lot of time on-books, relationships, frivolous things- are they influencing you for the right or for the wrong?

Tori had a weakness when she was coming back to school since she had been exposed to her family’s sickness. This weakness got exploited by the faulty window. So Satan knows our weaknesses and takes advantage of our often oblivious natures. We need to be alert and conscious of what is in our lives and our predispositions. We need to have our attention on examining our hearts that we be ready for the Christ to come every day.

Tori did not immediately get well after she discovered the problem. In fact she got worse. The damage had been done. She had to reap the consequences. So we have to reap the consequences of sin and often times they are much more tragic than a cough. This should cause us to be cautious.

Tori finally had to leave the room of her initial illness. She had to separate herself from the situation so that she didn’t spread the illness. Sometimes we have to make decisions to separate ourselves entirely from influences that cause us to turn our attention from that which is of God. This sometimes may seem trivial as banning yourself from YouTube for a couple weeks like Tori did once. After all, the small if not dealt with often becomes much larger.

What Tori would like you to get from her sad story is that we need to be intentional in our walk with Christ. Whatever takes our attention and affections from Christ should be removed from our lives. We need to call sin by its name and flee from it. Sin is like an illness. It takes advantage of our weak moments and creeps in to our lives unawares. When we see it we need to block it, get rid of it and move away from it.

Ephesians 5: 15-17 reads, “Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord's will is.”

*resemblance to a familiar name is entirely intentional

Christmas Tree Thoughts

A family Christmas tree set up anew each year. White lights, pine smell, brings life to the room. 

Decorations speak of the family living here. Interests, hobbies, and life events are recorded amongst the limbs. 

A wedding from seeming so long ago. Young faces, beautiful cake. 25 years later, so much and so fast. 

A boy is evidenced. A train, comic characters, all declare a little boy. Absence of later years speak of absence more far-reaching. Grown up and living far away. He's here this year. Fondness touches that which he used to cherish. 

A little girl in girlish charm is seen all around. Cats and angels, snowflakes and dolls. Christmas is her favorite time. A young woman now puts up these charms in sentimental care. Holding to what she knows, keeping them in her sight. The future stands with open arms, yet she looks back with heavy heart. 

A trumpet, a cross, kindergarten crafts, beautiful gifts and treasures hang amongst the needles. As if to soften their likely prick. 

What is this Christmas tree we always take pains to search for, cut down and drag home? Set up. Is it straight? Untangle the lights and perhaps buy new. Search for the blown out bulb. Keep the water supplied. Is it just a tradition? Some would say so. 

For the once little girl it is very special. Memories of carefree days. Family together, sharing memories, making new. The years are now becoming different, the worries different than what they once were. Next year perhaps there will be an ornament to remember this year. Put up with tender thought. What will it tell of and where will we be?

My Family

I belong to a small family. I have one older brother. I have one uncle. I have no first cousins. I have a bunch of great aunts but I never see them. And there is more extended family out there but again, I never see them. However, I am so blessed with the closeness of my immediate family.

If I were to describe my father the first word which pops in to my head is faithful. My dad is a faithful man in everything which he does. He is calm and he is responsible. My dad is a man of a routine. He is like clockwork. One of the ways which this routine has affected me is seeing the consistency of his spiritual life. The first thing he does when he gets out of bed every morning is kneel to pray. After he does his lesson, he kneels to pray. Whenever he visits the church during the week, before he leaves, he goes in to the sanctuary to kneel and pray. I cannot express what an impression that made to me as I was growing up. My dad is a consistent man. I have never seen him angry. He is calm and rational. He is a peace-maker. And he also has a very unique sense of humor. I get my even-keel temperament from my dad.

My mother is a loving woman. She is one of my best friends. We can talk for hours. She and my interests are much alike. We love history, stories, and studying people. The frustrations I have had in college, she had when she was my age as well. She is close to her parents and is sentimental. She loves to read and would prefer this with a cat on her lap. I share that opinion. My mother wants the best for me and she has absolute faith in my abilities. That faith in me has been a motivator at key points in my life.

I absolutely love my brother. Growing up he was my defender and my protector. As we hit the teenage years we became much more expressive of our care toward each other. My brother knows me in a way which no other person on this earth knows me. I find it awesome that usually the longest human relationship one has during their lives is usually a sibling. I will be very content if my brother and I get to share that experience. My brother is an eccentric individual. He is the most open-minded person I know. He is accepting and tolerant. And man, he is smart. He graduated from college Summa Cum Laude. He would make a good diplomat and who knows, he may be that someday. One of my grandma's favorite stories of my brother and I when we were little goes like this: My brother was probably 5 or so and was sitting on the step of their house. I would have been about 3. Apparently we had some sort of disagreement and I went over to my brother and said something along these lines, "Roger, you know I love. I'm going to marry you some day!"

My mother's parents are part of my being. I've lived down the road from them my whole life. Being home includes being with them. My grandmother is the most beautiful woman I know. I love her positive outlook on life and her ability to laugh at problems. She is strong: physically and mentally. I have spent many hours sitting and talking to her. It pains me to see her and my grandfather getting older. Growing up their home was filled with delight and warmth. And food. She is the most amazing cook I have ever known. My grandfather spoiled my brother and I tremendously when we were small. He is one of the most ingenuous people I have ever met. They both love animals and nature. Again, it makes me very sad to see the effects of age on their abilities. I have often wished I could go back in time and see them at my age. Part of my love of history comes from the love of wanting to see what life was experienced during the time of my older relatives.

My father's mother is a character. She has been a widow for at least 30 years. Trips to her house were always filled with food, shopping, and enjoyment. She loves baseball and used to golf. My father and her have a Yankees- Red Sox rivalry which is highly amusing. She, like my father, is a consistent, faithful individual. She has looked after my uncle who has mental problems for over 40 years. She is tremendously generous. I think she would do anything for us if she could. She is so proud of my brother and I.


I was thinking about my family today. It seems that we are much more quick to be angry, short, rude and resentful towards members of our family than anyone else. Why this is, I'm not sure. Probably because we figure that they have to love us. However, our families have created us to be who we are. They sustain us. They are our support. Therefore I wanted to write this blog about the good qualities of my close family. I don't want to immediately think of what irritates me when I think of any of them- I want to first think of what wonderful people they are and how much they have done for me. They have given me everything. If I can remember that, then everything else will fall in to perspective.

(images: http://or.ucr.edu/images/pictures/centers/FamilyStudies.jpg, http://www.donnabellas.com/image2/family/daddy-girl-brunette.jpg, http://www.prescriptiondrugalternative.com/images/Headings/baby_mom.jpg, http://www.olga-art.info/gal/fineart/Brother%20and%20sister.jpg,
http://fatihiraz.files.wordpress.com/2007/01/0512171356395thankful_prayer.jpg )

People are like Umbrellas :)

It is a rainy, drizzly day. Thankfully I had checked the weather forecast this morning and grabbed an umbrella on my way out the door. Not 15 minutes later the rain started and has not stopped as of yet.

My umbrella is a cute umbrella. It is powder blue and has little cats and dogs all over it. (It's raining cats and dogs! ha..ha..) My grandma got it free from the Humane Society and gave it to me. However, like most free things, it is lacking in quality. The fabric on at least two of the ends of the umbrella had ripped before this morning As I was walking home for lunch the wind started gusting and my umbrella became almost more of a hassle than a shelter as it flipped inside out and I was gripping it tightly lest it fly away. It now has a few other ends ripped and looks like a mishapped pity of an umbrella.

I couldn't help but notice some of the umbrellas around me passing as I went to and from class. Some were brightly colored. Some were massive. Some were obviously older. Some were shiny and new. Some were designer. Some were probably from a thrift store. Some even were several layers of material. As I crossed the road toward my apartment a friend walked up and I couldn't help but feel a little chagrined over the state of my sad umbrella next to his massive, very refined, high-quality umbrella. My broken powder blue cats and dogs looked very silly.

People are like umbrellas. We're all shapes and sizes. We come from all different places. Like my poor umbrella, some of us need some mending of tears in our lives. Some of us may even need new parts. Some of us are getting our heads wet in rains of trial. Some of us are sheltered from the rain and toasty warm. Some of us may even be fighting to hang on as the storms are threatening to turn us inside out. Some of us may think we're just plain and not very exciting. Some of us are sporting shiny designs but perhaps hiding the emptiness inside. Some are guarding a happy heart that is splashing with joy through the puddles (that's who I want to be :) )

Umbrellas are always held. They do no good if they are not opened and held up. So are we held in Christ's hands. He has control over our lives. We may fancy we're holding on to our own lives but one fierce storm will whip the control from our weak hands. We would do better to let go of our umbrellas, our lives, and walk next to Christ and He can hold our lives for us. :)

There are dozens of analogies between us and umbrellas but I must hasten to mention that there is at least one important detail which does not make us entirely like umbrellas. When I left for work today I left my poor powder blue cats and dogs at home and grabbed my roommate's more robust umbrella for the walk to work. Christ never trades us in. We are not disposable in His sight. He will mend us. He will perfect us. He will never let us go.

The Bible doesn't say anything about umbrellas, but it has something to say about clay...

"O house of Israel, can I not do with you as this potter does?" declares the LORD. "Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel." - Jeremiah 18:6

"Woe to him who strives with him who formed him, a pot among earthen pots! Does the clay say to him who forms it, 'What are you making?' or 'Your work has no handles'?"- Isaiah 45:9

Don't hang on, let go and let God form you as He wills. Let yourself be clay (or an umbrella) in His hands. :)



(images: http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/pic/IMCcard/KD6061%7ERaining-Cats-Dogs-Posters.jpg, http://www.microdrainage.co.uk/mdimages/mdimage_pg1.jpg)