Silent Observer.

It was Wednesday this past week that I went into the kitchen at work to heat up my Lean Cuisine.

One of my co-workers was sitting at one of the tables with a pair of scissors and a bunch of green construction paper that she was diligently cutting through. I watched for a minute as my lunch heated, then turned to get my cup of milk out of the refrigerator.

Another co-worker came in to get their lunch out of the other refrigerator, as he passed by her, he asked, “What are you doing with all of that?”

“I’m in charge of Vacation Bible School at my church, I’m making leaves for the auditorium.”

“Oh. What church do you go to?”

“Grace Community, it’s a wonderful church, very friendly and family oriented. I’ve gone there since I was a child.”

The conversation continued and finished. Another person came in and the conversation repeated. The next person left and the microwave beeped indicating that my lunch was done. As I turned to leave, I smiled at her and said, “that’s a really great way to witness for the Lord, you know?”

She smiled in return and said, “I know.”

A New Couch?

I noticed shortly after we were married in 2005 that my two year old couch wasn’t holding up very well to having a big and tall husband. At 6′6″ tall and weighing an appropriate amount for that height, my couch creaks and sinks when he sits down. He’s also a typical man (at least in this respect) in that he’s an enthusiastic sitter! When he sits down, he sits with exuberance! I know this because, not only is the couch testimony to that, but we’ve replaced two toilet seats.

We wandered into Levitz a week or so ago and I noticed a beautiful leather couch, deep chocolate brown and with an Italian styling. I liked it immediately and I sat down on it. It was firm and I asked my darling enthusiastic sitter to sit enthusiastically upon the firm couch. It didn’t sink and I fell just a bit more in love with it. We wandered around the store and eventually left.

Today, because it’s a holiday in the states, that store offered a sale on that couch with a savings of $200. I almost ordered it online because there was an offer for free delivery, but only if ordered online. We decided, instead, to go to the store for another try out.

Upon walking into the store, my husband spotted the couch and immediately sat upon it (exuberantly), and slouched into it. Well, this couch is not a slouch couch, which is probably why it appeals to me. I don’t much like slouch couches. I like formal looking couches that, while sitting on them, are comfortable but you don’t end up with your end upon the floor. Anyway, he slouched upon the non-slouching couch and bonked the back of his head on the wooden backing. He looked startled, as if he didn’t know it was there, although he DID know it was there because we’d talked about it. He said that wooden thing wouldn’t be very comfortable for him and continued to bonk his head on it to prove that it was, indeed, still there. I pointed out to him that if he would quit intentionally hitting his head upon it that it might be a bit more comfortable than it presently was.

Then he pointed out that the cushions on the couch didn’t remove for cleaning as they are sewn on. That’s true. And also one of the things I like, because again, it’s not a slouch couch. The cushions would stay put. But then he pointed out that we like to remove the cushions and both cuddle upon the couch when we watch movies together.

I saw his point. The thing was, instead of tightening my jaw and having the attitude of “it’s my money and I’ll spend it as I please” I should have seen his point when he started hitting his head on the back of the couch indicating he wasn’t going to be very comfortable on it.

We left the store without the couch, instead discussing alternative ways that we could firm up our existing couch.

He’s my husband and he really does want me to be happy. I’m not going at this thing called life alone anymore. Sometimes I forget that God intended me to lean on someone — a helper, a lover, a kind husband. A blessing.

Reflection Time.

It’s hard to believe that I’ve been at my “new” job for nearly a year. The job still feels new, almost like I’m still on a honeymoon.

One of my duties is to write their internal newsletter, it was listed as one of the job duties in the advertisement and, in all honesty, is one of the reasons I persisted through the company’s prolonged interview process. Writing “fun stuff” instead of “legal stuff” as part of my job intrigued me. Even now, because I enjoy it so much, I feel almost guilty when I spend time writing the newsletter. As if I’m doing something wrong. I mean, they’re paying me to write!

On a personal level, I feel so blessed to have a wonderful, understanding husband. That’s not something I’ve always had in my life, which I suppose makes me appreciate him all the more. I am very careful to not take him or anything he does for granted. It particularly impacted me when my cousin, who is younger than me by 10 years, lost her husband in a freak farming accident — they’d only been married for a little over 2 years. My cousin is a woman of faith, stronger in her faith than I am, I think. She and her husband had a marriage based on God and she knows she’ll see him again in Heaven.

I visited her to attend his funeral. Fortunately, despite all the demands being made on her time, we were able to spend some time together. We took a drive one afternoon and she showed me the farm they’d been planning to make an offer on — except he died two days too soon. As we drove the farm roads, golden cornstalks all around, she glanced my way with her clear, pretty blue eyes and said, “I used to be so afraid to ask people if they knew where they’re going when they die. But now, after seeing how fast my husband died, I’m not afraid to ask that anymore.”

It’s kind of funny because three months later I conducted an interview with one of our employees. One of the questions I ask in the interview is “Can you tell me something that most people wouldn’t know or guess about you?” Usually, it’s a question that people respond with what they consider to be bad. For that reason, it kind of stumps people until I throw out an example — like, maybe they speak several languages, or they do a lot of work for charities, or they like to shower with boa constricters. In his response, though, he kind of laughed and said he used to star in adult movies. He then said he knew that wasn’t something I could put in the newsletter, and he was right. It was an inappropriate answer and served no purpose toward the interview. I didn’t take offense, as I think it’s just his personality style to try to shock — some people are like that, you know? But I thought later to myself why it was more acceptable for him to say something like that than it would be for me to inquire about his eternal life…

Time. The Loss of it.

I’ve found myself, lately, grieving the loss of time. There just never seems to be enough of it.

The lines seem longer at the post office these days, people seem to have more questions about the forms they have to fill out, the supermarket never has enough checkers, people seem to have lost the ability to drive anywhere near the speed limit. All of that in conjunction with the longer and longer mental to-do list that I carry around with me. I contain my impatience, always, because I remind myself that God put all these people on this Earth, too. Not just me.

Then I remind myself that, not only am I supposed to trust that God will provide a job, housing, love and all the necessities of life, but he’ll also provide me with the time I need to get things done.

Trust God in ALL things, not just this and that.

One of the Best Devotion Sources…

I just wanted to share with you one of the things I really enjoy and look forward to.

There is a Pastor who lives in Texas, Pastor Kerry. He puts out a daily devotion to an e-mail list. I subscribe to three e-mail devotion lists, actually, and his is one that I find to be particularly enjoyable, uplifting and I learn from each one. A little treat first thing in the morning.

You can see his archives here or subscribe to his e-mail devotions here.

Since it’s my birthday today, I thought I’d share one of my gifts with you.

Be a Blessing.

“Lord, please let me be a blessing to someone today.” I pray that prayer nearly every morning, and have prayed that prayer for the past few years. Ever since I read it in one of Jan Karon’s books about Father Tim and his wife, Cynthia.

The prayer serves as a reminder to me that I’m not just here for myself. It’s also a simple way of asking for so much… to help me see beyond the emotions people cast forth to their real needs. To also help step beyond my sometimes knee-jerk reaction of “that’s not my job” and help people, if I am able… maybe even step beyond my comfort zone. Or to realize when someone just wants a sounding board, someone to listen.

God wants us to serve each other. I’m trying to learn how. Sometimes I do okay, other times I find that I still need to learn more.

Beautiful…

“Who are you?” I had followed the man and his son out of the local health store. He had glanced at me as he opened the door to his SUV for his son, then turned again, looked me right in the eyes and asked that question.

“Pardon me?” I rasped out. I’m presently experiencing a pretty nasty allergy attack, complete with a loss of voice, clogged ears and a red eye. I wasn’t sure if he’d said who or how.

“Who are you?” He repeated. “You’re absolutely beautiful.” He stated the last part emphatically.

Who am I? I’m beautiful? I didn’t feel beautiful. I felt old, tired, bloated, beaten up by a body too soon turned into that of an old woman. Do you know, I had just spent the last half hour in a health store looking for some magical concoction that would pull the crud out of my ears and sinuses so that I could, at the very minimum, function at a normal level? That I remember my grandma putting stuff in her ears to pull wax out and that I, now, at age 35 am actually thinking to myself that maybe my grandma had some pretty good ideas and just how old that really makes me feel?

“I’m just… me. Thank you.” I replied in my hoarse, raspy voice. I continued walking to my car. I could feel him watching me as I left. I don’t know what his intentions were, whether he was sincere or just … whatever. It didn’t seem like a cheap compliment, as if he were hitting on me. It felt as if he really had been caught off guard by seeing someone who he believed was genuinely beautiful.

Whatever it was, it hit at a point when I needed a tiny boost to get through the day. And I’ll take it as a little boost from God. He does that, you know. Gives you little boosts through other people when you need them the most. Even from complete strangers, sometimes.

Watch for Him.

Resting Easy.

You would think that no posts on my spiritual blog would mean that I’m going through a dry spell. I’m here to tell you that’s not the case at all.

I’m actually resting easy in the Lord’s care these days. After the tumultuous past few years, where I’ve felt as if I’ve been forgotten in the washing machine on the spin cycle and, when finally remembered, left out to dry in rainy weather, things have actually settled down for the moment. I’m so grateful for that, I send up thanks to God for every single second that I have peace.

I’ve been reading a small devotion book entitled Footprints, written by Margaret Fishback Powers, who is actually the person who wrote the beautiful, famous poem by the same name back in 1964. This book goes more in depth with Bible verses to reflect upon. It has also been a blessing to me.

So that’s where I’ve been… at peace. It’s a good place to be. I pray that it will continue to be so, at least for the next moment or two.

Witness Through Trials.

The line was long and didn’t seem to move. I looked toward the front and didn’t see any unusual hold up, I guess the door must have been delayed in opening. That’s okay, it gave me a moment to reflect on the service.

I had lain in bed this morning after my husband left for his church and thought I’d just take the easy way today and go to church online. I had been up until 2:30 in the morning. Sometimes I can’t sleep because my body betrays me with endometriosis pain. Other times I don’t want to sleep because I feel “normal” and I want to embrace every moment of normalcy. Last night was the latter and I was grateful.

As I laid there, reveling in the feel of the sheets against me, nice and warm from a few hours of blessed sleep, something called me to get out of bed. “If you get up, you can still make it to church by 8:45 AM, enough time to get a decent seat.” This church is so huge, the sanctuary fills up quickly if I don’t get there by 8:30 AM. I looked at the clock, 8:11. “Every moment you wait, less of a chance to go.” Filled with purpose, I got up, dressed and left within 20 minutes. As I shut the door behind me I prayed, “Lord, please, let me be a blessing to someone there today.”

I couldn’t get to church quick enough, I felt such a sense of inexplicable urgency. Impatient with the stop lights along the way, pulling into the parking lot, finding a spot and walking quickly inside, I spotted a seat in the third row. The lady next to the empty seat I spotted patted the seat and welcomed me by saying, “This seat isn’t taken, sit here!” We started talking and I learned that she was recently divorced after 23 years. She inquired as to my status and I shared I was recently married. She said, “Oh…” and uncomfortably withdrew into herself, obviously not wanting to mar my happiness as a newlywed with her sadness. “It’s okay. I understand. I’m previously divorced myself from a mentally abusive man. But the road of healing with God at the helm has enabled me to love again, and my husband now is helping me heal even more. The healing never stops.” Again, she replied, “Oh…” only this time she reached out her hand and began to share her story, her faith, her love for the God who was helping her through it. In some ways, her story was eerily similar to mine, similar to every person who goes through a divorce. A divorce bears no winners, only survivors.

The line started moving again. I got midway to the door and noticed the lady who sang the final song of the service was standing there greeting people as they left. “How odd.” I thought. Then I noticed a man standing on the other side of the aisle, actually two men. The one man was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, a blue one, remarkably like the one the Senior Pastor had been wearing during the… dude! That is the Senior Pastor, Rick Warren. And he’s shaking people’s hands as they leave.

I thought about walking past him, not wanting to hold up the line, but he reached out his hand to me. As I shook his hand, the words came to me courtesy something my mom had told me. “Hi Rick. I just wanted to tell you what a blessing this church is and that the services are offered online. My mom lives in South Korea and watches them online. She told me that she wished there were a way she could tell you how proud she is of you that you’ve lost so much weight recently. So, I’m taking this opportunity to tell you that.” He shyly ducked his head and said, “Awww, thanks.” I continued, “Your weight loss is actually an incredible witness to others, not only here in the U.S. but also to foreigners.”

I could tell I had lost his attention at that point, he was already looking to the next person, so I moved on. Maybe he heard me. Maybe not. Maybe he took the encouragement I had meant to share, that’s really all I wanted, was to encourage him. I know weight is a battle that many people struggle with. For someone as visible as he is to fight the battle and win is not only a witness to people who struggle with the same battle, but also to those in foreign lands who look at overweight Americans with disdain.

It is a realization that we can witness with our words or we can take our belief into our bodies and witness through what we do. Every struggle we face can be a witness to others. Not necessarily the struggle itself, we all have struggles, but how we handle them. Do we dwell in bitterness, anger and the unfairness of it all or do we ultimately turn to God?

I just realized something. By my attempts to be a blessing to someone else, I ended up feeling blessed. Hrm.

The Supply Room.

At my job there is a room where all the supplies are kept. Anything I would need to get through my day is in there. From the most minute things, such as paperclips to larger items, such as desk sorters and everything in between, such as post-its, pens, paper pads, company brochures, etc. If I can’t find what I need, there sits an office supply catalog and an order sheet.

Sometimes I’ll go in there even if I don’t need anything, just to take an inventory in case I need something in the future. It’s a peaceful room and it smells nice, like paper and new things. A good place to duck into for a moment or two to regroup.

It may seem odd to compare that supply room with someone so omnipotent as God, but God is all those things to me. From the big to the small and everything in between, he has all I need, even a peaceful spot to rest in when I need Him.

Remember my prayer for the last couple months?

Did you catch my mention that I got a job?