Craving Color!

I was craving color, not dull, not grey, not beige…COLOR! 

I was headed to the big city, driving through small towns and winding roads.  On my way, I noticed that the roads I traveled weren't even the typical asphalt grey, but beige.  Ugh…beige. My exciting trip to NYC was not starting out so well. 

Skies were grey, trees were dead, and roads…beige, then faint burnt red.  And then I saw it, a bold blue road sign.  It was beautiful!  A few miles down the road, I saw a delivery truck with faces of little people and cartoon characters taking books to schools, and it had color!  The children’s hospital sign across the top of a tower of sick babies, challenged me to make prayers go up.  Detours, and traffic, and wrecks ahead, led me to my destination… an ugly pink hotel.  I got out of the car, and I was disgusted at my lack of daily color.

It should have been a food group, for crying out loud!

Oh, and all week the sensation, the craving followed me. Hundreds of people were heading to the big city, all in coats and suits of grey. I was longing for someone to stand in the middle of them with a bright green coat on. Like herds of cattle, they were boarding a ferry into the skyline of tall buildings with tops in clouds.  Under ground on trains, they sat in clusters of black bags and boots and scarves.  No one talked, yet they sat side by side. Striving for success and very tired.

Though very real, it all seemed fake.  Buildings with ads selling products that would make life easier, and sexier, and better. I met students selling merchandise in order to make it through school.

I met waitresses overworked and stressed.  I met officers manning streets of protests.

And my color wanted to get louder.  I wanted to talk loudly when all was quiet.  I wanted to laugh and be silly.  I desired to live, to go against the flow of the status quo, and Shine.

And I cried, and prayed at the way my life seemed hard, and suddenly, I realized that I truly live a beautiful life of color.

And most days, I act like my life is colorless.  I live life like I have sunglasses on.  I look through faded, tainted lenses.  I strive and survive.  I look to the future, and move at a city like pace.  I long for what others call success. I live on a Broadway stage, performing.  I live on an ad on a skyscraper, selling my products.  I live at a pace like that of a race, tired.

Can I get an Amen?

We have the answer, and we live with questions.

We have hope, and live hopeless.

We live in color, and see things in black and gray and beige. Why are we living lives of defeat, when we are victorious?

All day, I look for scriptures about color, and all I can think of is this:

For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part, then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

1 Cor. 13:12

 I pray with my husband, and I see a vision of this image, this picture…

I am absolutely blown away.  

In the 1600’s people thought that color was a mixture of light and darkness.  People also felt that prisms colored light.  Isaac Newton proved that it was not the prism that made the color, because he refracted it back together after it reflected the light.  Instead, he concluded that light alone was responsible for color. 

Somehow my craving for color makes perfect sense.  I wasn’t craving color, but light.  My God took the time to explain visually to me what my spirit was longing for. 

Jesus is the Light.  He is and always will be pure truth, pure light. As I live for him, he is reflected in and through me. Others can see the light (the hope) he offers.  Christ in me, the hope of glory.

I realize even more.  According to Wikipedia,

“In optics, a prism is a transparent optical element with flat, polished surfaces that refract light.”  According to the freedictionary.com, to “refract” means, “to alter by viewing through a medium.”

When the light touches the prism, the color is seen.   

I now see that I am that medium…when I am positioned in his presence (having constant communication and dependence upon him), when I am polished (and refined by his word), and when I am transparent before him, I have the ability to see things differently.

The light is the same (he is the same yesterday, today and forever), but now I am changed.  I can choose to see the color in life.

Recently, I have been looking at life through shaded vision.  I have seen darkness because that is what I have focused on.  I have handled situations with the same fear and dread that the world knows.  I have missed the moments because I have felt pressure to perform and succeed.  I have joined the crowd instead of standing out. 

This is not what God has intended for His children.  We are in this world, but not of it!

Like a prism, we are just a tool, used by God, to reflect the light of Jesus.  We alone do not have the answers, strategies, or plans for life.   We have the LIGHT!  He is the answer.  He is the way, the truth and the life! 

We have the power and authority to bring His life into this world.  We are the light in the darkness, because He is in us.  We have the answer the busy world so desperately needs.

I sit now on what my little friend, Bella calls my “happy couch.”  It is orange, yes orange.  My entire home is filled with colors, teal and green, yellow and orange.  I like it that way.  It’s my house.

Just as I chose to decorate my physical home in bright colors, I chose to decorate my spiritual house in hues of the like.  I desire to be a life so influenced by the presence of my God, that I am dwelling in happy, in praise, in thanksgiving, in peace, and in color…because I crave the LIGHT!

Here's to a life of color in 2015!  Cheers to a life that shines!

The Most Important thing on my Busy Calendar

And what to do with an empty calendar? 

 Never in my life have we ever been so busy!  I want everyone to know about it in hopes that someone will feel sorry for me...watch my kids, send me on a vacation, end the madness.  But, reality whispers that this will be the way of life for several years.

My children are in school and activities. My husband is in ministry and those who are familiar with ministry know that you just can't leave work at the office. I am a working mom now.  And this calendar will be full before this day is over.
But for one moment, and one moment alone (because my kids just woke up)...I am cherishing the empty calendar.

What will I put on it in October?  The truth is, the husband and I already have our Google calendars full of activities.  But what will this calendar (the one on our kitchen wall) have on it?

Will our second grader be able to read that mommy and daddy have a date night, a trip to nana's and papaws, a big #8 birthday party?

Will my Judah's field trip to the pumpkin patch make the cut?  Or will the calendar take Joshua and I to the mommy and baby date at Day Care at the end of the month?
My google calendar has none of these events.

Meetings, yes.  Small groups, yes. Interviews, yes. Events, yes.

These things are all important and needed.  Please do not misunderstand me.

But, I realize that something about the American Way is just plain wrong.  We are too busy for the things that truly matter.

My baby is sick and fighting sleep the past few weeks.  He has always been easy, one to lay down without a fight.  But as he has gotten older and a little more busy (and into everything!), he just wants to fight rest.

I am SO LIKE THAT!

Are you?

In fact it is easier sometimes to schedule an event that schedule time to rest.  It is hard to rest!!!

But we have to.

We. Just. Can't. Do. It. All.

We can't be everything to everyone...somebody's gonna be mad at us.
We can't be everywhere at one time...we only have one us.
We can't give more that what we have...we are broke, and broken.

Rest is hard work, but it MUST be on the calendar.  Let us pencil it in, in permanent ink....not a dry erase scribble, but with a SHARPIE!

Hebrews 4 

4 Therefore, since the promise of entering his rest still stands, let us be careful that none of you be found to have fallen short of it. .....

 9 There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God; 10 for anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from their works,[e] just as God did from his. 11 Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest, so that no one will perish by following their example of disobedience.

I get to sit and write today!!!

I have no idea what to write.  I do not have some amazing revelation or epiphany today.  No scripture verse is on my mind at the moment or 21 step process to solving the world's problems. I wish I could write something profound.  I wish what I had to say would change the world.  Yet, I realize I am nothing on my own.  I just pray that as the words I write are read, something changes in me for the better and someone else is blessed.

I listen to a song about sinking on a ship and boy do I know that feeling of panic lately.  Its like I know where I am going.  I know that when I get there, it will be beautiful.  I know there is a process of getting past the waves to paradise, but there are days I feel I am drowning, gulping water. 

Before you feel sorry for me, please know, I HAVE to go through this season.

We all do. 

It's the labor process.  The moment before dreams become reality.  When God's dreams for yourself are nothing like you planned, but better than you could imagine. And I remember.  I remember the promises, the dreams, the other seasons - how I was rescued from drowning and set upon a rock.  

As I come through this season, I am refined.  It's like a piece of pottery on a wheel, molded by the master crafter's hand.  As sifting and filtering takes place, something beautiful, transparent is formed. I know what is happening and I have no control, I sit here while He speaks words of life to me.  I want to fight, I want to quit, and then I stop to hear the words from a mouth that spoke the world into existence.

"Those waves that almost took you under, will be the waves you walk upon" 
"The pain of labor will end in life beautiful"
"The sifting of the impurities, the heat and fire will produce transparent gold"
"The stubborn clay, will become a masterpiece"
"The wind that chills you will lift you to flight"

And I realize the truth of the upside down kingdom of God in my life.  All the suffering suddenly makes sense.  And the taste of freedom reaches my tongue.  How in the middle of the most trying, difficult time do I feel I could soar?  Because it is in this season, that my feet are planted and He becomes my source.  

It is in these times, that we realize our frailty, or pride, and our dependance on the very one who made us.

And though I know it is not all about me,

 I also know He can work through me.

I am confident in Him.  I am in Him and He is in me.  Christ in me, the hope of glory.


My feet are planted, like a tree.   Though tossed by the torrential wind, I still stand

I am a work of art in the Master's hand  

I am squeezed and shaped,  And there is peace

 Because I know there is an end to this season,

And new life has sprung

To Honor You, My Pawpaw, My Hero

It was you who taught me grace.

Unmerited favor.

Undeserved, yet loved. 

In my sweats, your princess.

And we danced.

No matter where we were or who was watching or what they said, we didn’t care.

We danced and the world stood still right there in your arms, on your toes, in your embrace and it was all okay.

And you fought for me…

You were the warrior who stood over my grieving heart the night God prepared me for the man who would sweep me away

You prayed until all foes were defeated, arrows were thrown, javelins and spears pierced the enemies and my Travis won my heart

On your knobby weak, hard working, coal mining, knees…you fought for me.  You fought for so many.  In a church basement, a prayer closet, at the altar.

You interceded until your seed not only succeeded, but defeated.

The Christmas memories of prayer, the preaching about your great-grandbaby Zia who would be healed, the running the aisles when the spirit moved upon you, and when you stood with men who fought wars.  You were so proud to serve.

You took care of us all and would give when you had nothing to give at all.

I especially loved it when you would hand your teeth to my boyfriends and draw me silly pictures on my cards

I got mad at you once for scooting up close to the base when I was up to bat, but that was the only time

And I remember you getting mad at me and breaking my heart when you slapped my leg for not listening. Only remembering now there was a moving car and you were only protecting me

I prayed you would live to see my children and you did.  You carried my little girl around a church to show her off, as you did many babies at church.  But mine was yours and no one else could get a chance at her, cause you had her.  You wrestled with my son when I would hold my breath that you would be kicked in the difibulator.  You didn’t care.  You would do it anyway.

You would do many things anyway.  Wouldn’t he mamaw?  You would go to Hardees and Priddys and Walker Machinery.  You would deliver Mine Parts and mow grass and carry trash. You would bring home treats and shovel snow and all when you should have stopped…but you just couldn’t, because you were a warrior.  One who could not be stopped.

How did this happen?  How is it time?  But it is.

Four and ½ months ago, something beautiful happened.  God gave me a baby boy.  Unexpected.  Unplanned. Unprepared. I lost all control. And miraculously he was here.  My Joshua Clinton, named after you.  You were so proud and he will be honored to have your name.  He lives.  You do not.  Not here on earth.  But you live now and he begins to fill your shoes. 

The day before you left this earth, in a moment that will stand still in our hearts, you opened your eyes, reached out your arms and held and kissed that baby.  In that moment, you passed your mantle.

Like Moses, you have prayed prayers that you did not get to see come to pass this side of eternity.  You cleared the path for Joshua to enter the Promised Land.  You cleared the path for all of us. You prayed the first prayer, you preached the first sermon, you planted the first church.  We, your children, your grand children, your great grandchildren will walk on paths you cleared and proclaim on strong knees that Jesus is Lord!

It is here in this moment that I lose control.  And the miraculous takes place again.

I feel grace sweep over me like rain.

I feel a dance coming on…one we will share on streets of gold

I feel sad, yet I know no matter how I feel

And I am free in this moment

Free because of the Jesus you gave us…when you first made that commitment to follow him in the back seat of that car many years ago…

What if you never prayed that prayer?

What if you never preached that sermon?

What if you never prayed for me, for those in this room?

But you did.

Thank you. I love you.

A couple of weeks ago God led me to Hebrews 12:1-2

It reads,

Therefore since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up.  And let us run with endurance (like Papaw) the race that God has set before us.  We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. 

You won the race.  Your knees are no longer hurting.  You ran right through those gates on streets of gold and the crowds of witnesses cheered you on, as do we!  You did it papaw…You kept your eyes on Jesus.  You are home. &  Today, we  celebrate you! Today, we put on your running shoes and we follow behind!

As you sleep...

Joshua

 As you sleep, I see the world within your grasp.

As you dream, I pray for places sweet to roam.

As you rest, I experience peace.

A new beginning.
New life. Empty plate. Fresh slate. 

Free and brave.

Strong and Courageous.

My Joshua, my sweet. My baby boy, my start over.

Judah

As you sleep, my super hero gets braver.

As you sleep, my little boy, grows bigger.

As you sleep, my funny, witty and sensitive one becomes more of who you are.

Inquisitive and interested. So much to know.  So many to love. So full of gifts to give away.

Triumphant and Loud.

Your trumpet to sound.

My Judah, my warrior.  Mommy's boy, my chance to be loved for just being me.
                                                                                   

Ana

As you try to sleep, through the bite of pain, I see you gain strength.


As you try to sleep, in a world that is teaching you it's imperfections, I see you try again.

As you try to sleep, you become beautiful, just because you are you.

And you fight for justice and desire to lead. You speak truth with love. And dream.

Caring and Creative.

Your voice to be heard.

My Ana, my mini-me. Mommy's girl, my chance to see someone like me get it right, and be free.