Message in the Mess

One year ago I was attending a church leadership conference and the worship band sang the song Reckless Love. I have a love/hate relationship with this song. I love the opening lyrics. I hate the chorus.  I remember turning to my husband and asking him with just one word how would you describe God's love. I have my word and when I hear Reckless Love--I use my word in place of the word Reckless.  This is not actually something I like to do.  I am a word person. I was raised with an understanding that I needed to respect the power of words. I try to choose my words carefully.  I believe lyrics are a work of art and should not be altered.  The use of reckless as an adjective of God's love, (I know the artist was not calling God reckless.) left my heart unsettled.  It didn't just rub me the wrong way because the definition usually carries a negative connotation  (my word does too) . It went deeper. I did my research and understand why he chose ...

Have you ever heard the story about Nobody 's Job? Like eveybody , I could have married anybody . Somebody would love me. I was a nobody . My mom was a nobody . My dad was a nobody . I married a nobody .   I know this makes me sound crazy. I know I married a nobody because the children's area of our church -- he's the children's pastor--it's a disaster zone. No really, it is a mess. Last Sunday he forgot to make sure a toilet wasn't running.  He isn't a plumber, he isn't the facility manager, it was just a problem he noticed and checking it became an item on his "to do" list. He did it because it needed done.   What happens when Nobody doesn't do the job?   In this particular case--The toilet ran a marathon and a professional clean up crew was called in to remove the water.   One week later--fans are running, flooring is missing, and the contents of 2 classrooms, two storage  rooms, and an office are sc...

It was a cave-like barn. They were isolated --alone with no help. They were outcasts deplorable men. There were only 3 magi and they arrived right after the shepherds. We are in a constant struggle of trying to wrap our modern minds around a middle eastern Jewish birth that happened 2000 years ago. We live in a society where we are encouraged to focus on our emotional  selves and apply that frame to everyone in everything we read or hear. We think about Mary and how she must have felt. We think about Joseph and how he felt. We think about the lonely couple making a long journey only to be rejected by everyone. Why don't we think about Mary and Joseph as a couple-whose marriage was probably arranged? Why don't we talk about what even a quiet divorce would mean for Mary's family? Have you ever wondered if Mary was sent to stay with Elizabeth so that the two expecting mothers could help each other? We need only to look back into Exodus to note some important thi...

I have a task that I have been struggling with for a couple of weeks.  I have some empty picture frames I want to fill with current photos. I have one frame in particular that has become a bit of a thorn for me. Every time I see it sitting there void of a photo something pricks my heart.  Some days it bleeds a little other days it bleeds a lot.  There is a tiny bit of joy on the days it bleeds a lot. It sounds strange, but when the sadness pours out -- I know that my heart is still soft, still flesh.  The days it barely bleeds fear takes root. I fear my heart is becoming callused and hardening, slowly transforming into a heart of stone. So what is this frame that hurts my heart time after time. It is a friendship frame. The words etched in the frame read "Friends are a lifetime of shared experiences and memories laughter caring sharing secrets honesty listening fights talking advice dreams a true friend is a gift to cherish Friends are forever". If I am being h...

Our house has been in a constant state of disarray, and I have been in a fairly constant state of frenzy.  Even as I write this very delayed blog -- my mind is racing through all the things I hope to accomplish tonight. The task that brought this post to the forefront is moving four of the bookshelves scattered through our house to our new home office.  I need to clean off the shelves to move them and there is no reason to put them all back if there are some I can do without. A quick glance around the living room and the mess is easy to see: paintings that were sealed awaiting a new home on a wall, totes of movies to be donated, overflowing bookshelves, and the ever-present baskets of clean laundry - waiting for closet space.  A small house and an abundance of blessings means organization is a high priority. The thing is I have always found organizing to be a messy task. Whenever I need to organize something I make a "clean" mess.  This is a mess of piles and don...

This week's blog is delayed because I had a more important priority. We just dropped off our son for Navy basic training.  The laundry, sweeping, dishes, vacuuming were all put on hold. Instead it was helping our sailor sort and pack up his belongings. The rest of our time was spent loving on him. We played video games. We played Dutch Blitz. We took a trip to the new local ice cream shop. I enjoyed each of these moments. However I had the most fun making a fantastical mess of our backyard.  I started a tradition of buying everyone in our family a can of goofy string. My family quickly learned that a can of goofy string woukd be in Christmas stockings and Easter baskets. I made it a point to buy orange for my husband, green for our eldest son, blue for our younger son, and purple for myself. Last night it was finally time for our family goofy string war.  We stood about 5 feet apart in a square with a can of string or two aimed at the closest family members and the ...