BLOG NO MORE--AT LEAST FOR A WHILE

Good Morning.

Walking season is here--my favorite prayer position.

I love blogging. Learning something new thrills me. Discovering authors who are artists of words, instead of paint, excite me as well. But both are only half the fun when not shared. Yet, as mentioned . . .

Walking/praying season is here--and this is election year. Prayer IS needed!

I'm engaged in an online class.

I have neglected my sheep book.

I'm older and still working--with books, with people I love; but it takes time too.

Something has to go. I've more or less let any crafting go. Some cleaning and household projects, too . . . oops.

So for now, what has to go, is blogging. I may share fantastic insights or quotes on facebook. If you are interested and not "friended" please let me know.

Until I return, I am--As Always . . .

Utterly Dependent On Jesus Who Is Utterly Dependable!!
Lonnie

THEY HAVE YET TO WIN

"The people of God are tough. For centuries those who belong to the world have waged war against the way of faith, and they have yet to win."
Eugene Peterson
A Long Obedience In The Same Direction p. 126

I am enjoying, immensely, by study in Psalms. The above quote is such an encouragement to me. Within its context, it's even better, but I prefer to "borrow" words, not plagerize them.

Psalm 129 is where Peterson's thoughts originate from:

"They have greatly oppressed me from my youth, but they have not gained victory over me.
"Plowman have plowed my back and made their furrows long.
"But the Lord is righteous; he has cut me free from the cords of the wicked."
Psalm 129: 2-4

BE ENCOURAGED. We are on the winning team.

As always, I find myself . . .

Utterly Dependent,
Lonnie

WHEN DID I BECOME A PASSIONATE WOMAN?

 This morning, Ray and I watched Quincy—an old time favorite. I remember when I heard that Ray’s niece was going into forensic medicine; probably when Quincy was popular the first time. I thought, given her youth, I’d pursue the same thing. This morning those thoughts revisited my heart. I’d always been interested in medicine but the reason for the interest has undergone some transition.

I leaned toward medicine when I was in high school. Mom and Dad sent me to beauty school. I may or may not have been able to manage a medical program with chemistry as its base; mom didn’t think I could. But . . . I remember the part of cosmetology that I enjoyed most: biology; anatomy. Forensics and the truths it holds, had I known of them then, might have captured my attention. In that decade of my life, compassion and helping others were probably more my focus; and I don’t think I’ve lost those. I think they were the birth-point of my “passion.”

But, today, truth—be it pleasant or hard, holds my heart’s attention.

I am overcome with the desire for truth to be known. Truth, honestly, makes me cry. Not because it’s always bad truth—but because it is so precious to me.

Recently, Ray and I have gotten into Heat of the Night, another old time TV program. I’ve come to tears a few times when someone quotes Scripture; when Christianity is freely and sincerely expressed. Something not seen much in TV today. Truth! It’s worth a tear or three.

I’m guessing, at one time, truth would have crushed me. Truth about relationships—truth about my children—truth about mistakes I’ve made—truths within my family of origin—truths about intentions (my own or someone else’s). I’d like to say I underwent instant change when I became a Christian; when truth “should” hold high priority; when I could take any unpleasant truth to Jesus. It didn’t. I’d have been the first one to say, “Truth hurts!”

I tend to give my all to whatever my passion (?) is at the time; and that at the expense of other things NOT getting the time and attention they should. Cross-stitch, writing, reading (that one never dies), rubber stamping, God’s Word (that one wavers but never goes away).  Shoot! Even politics—reading everything I could so that I’d vote for the candidates best for our country—AND myself.

Maybe that’s where my passion got a kick-start. Maybe my passion is experiencing a growth spurt because truth seems to be disappearing. Maybe it’s because I see people fall for anything or everything that has the scent of spirituality but little truth that lines up with Christianity—with the words of Christ—the one absolute, unchangeable Truth. Maybe it’s because that one Truth ties other truths together, because it makes all other truths matter, because Jesus is the one Truth that won’t dissolve in fluffy words nor get blown apart in torrential storms.

Maybe I didn’t become a passionate woman at any particular time, or because of any particular circumstance. Perhaps I’ve always been a passionate woman. It’s just so happens that the slow-growing plant is blooming. Perhaps the deep pink tightened bud is opening because I finally realize that I hold a Treasure that I neither need to hide or hoard–a treasure abundant enough to share with anyone and everyone—a treasure that no one can steal or destroy or even diminish!. My treasure, truth, and passion are One—One who will never change—not ever!

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found the one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it.” Matthew 13: 45

One day, may my passion be strong enough to swallow all my fears . . . of people, of poverty, of war, of cancer, of pain . . . that day is close BECAUSE HE IS!

Passion grows as I become more and more . . .

Dependent on Him Who is Utterly Dependable,

Lonnie

PASTORS? HAZARDOUS WORK?

"Do you engage in hazardous work?"
Red Cross Nurse
A Long Obedience In The Same Direction

Eugene Peterson, author of The Message, after being asked several other qualifying questions for giving blood, was asked if he engaged in hazardous work.

"I said, 'Yes."

The nurse looked at his clerical collar and smiled,

BUT . . .

My thoughts are that we don't appreciate how true his answer is. We see pastors behind the pulpit; perhaps occasionally in other situations. But, Eugene Peterson's words highlight some of what we miss.

Read on . . . 

"I am put on the spot of being God's defender. I am expected to explain God to his disappointed clients. I am thrust into the role of a clerk in the complaints department of humanity, asked to trace down bad service, listen sympathetically to aggrieved patrons, try to put right any mistakes I can and apologize for the rudeness of the management."

I suspect I've put a pastor or two in that positon. How about you?

I'm, honestly, so grateful for our pastors--and for their wives and families. They give much and sacrifice much. They give their time and their hearts to us, and in their faithfulness to God. Their ministry, no doubt, holds great joys, great answers to prayer, and a crowd of changed lives. I wonder though--runners talk about hitting the wall: enjoying the run, giving it all they have, looking forward to sweet victory-------but hitting that wall of unbelievable pain that they have to push through. Do pastors experience that too?

It's not October, but do me a favor: Appreciate your pastor (s) and church leadership TODAY. As God leads, express it.

As always, I find myself . . . 

Utterly Dependent on Him Who Is Utterly Dependable,
Lonnie

FEAR OF SILENCE

"I hear a lot of people say that the fear of death and the fear of public speaking are two of the main fears in my generation, but I disagree. I think it's the fear of silence. (emphasis mine) We refuse to turn off our computers, turn off our phones, log off Facebook, and just sit in silence, because in those moments we might actually have to face up to who we really are. We fear silence like it's an invisible monster, gnawing at us, ripping us open, and showing us our dissatisfaction. Silence is terrifying."
Jefferson Bethke
Jesus >Religion  p.5

I don't think it's just Jefferson's generation. I'm pretty sure he's younger than me. Somedays, I feel like everyone is. 8-)

Recently, I was challenged by silence. I determined, for 40 days, to turn off my car radio/cd player. The quiet to and from work would give me time to pray--and to listen.

It was hard!

I discovered that for the same reason I sit in front of the TV--to zone out/escape--I turned music on in the car, or an audio book. I didn't want to think.

Today, I'd probably say that I didn't want to hear my own thoughts. And silence seemed to be an invitation to everything ugly: anger, self-pity, self-righteousness, covetousness, never-ending to-do lists, past hurts and current . . . good grief! Hardly the atmosphere for praying. Yet good time to be with God. We could tackle those things together. I found peace and healing.

When my 40 days were up, I took on some more. It was time for Lent. With a 2 day reprieve, I turned off noise again. I fudged a couple days; and I can tell you why. As soon as I turned on the music, I felt it. It's escape. I don't want to think about that.

Yet, in the second stretch of days, I found myself worshiping . . . singing my own songs, hymns I grew up with or contempory choruses from when I became a Christian. As God prompted, I prayed. As my own heart prompted, I prayed for those I love. 

Easter morning, on the way to church, I told Ray, "Wow! I can turn on the radio!" You know what? It's not so great. I don't miss the silence. I miss God--I miss fellowship with Him, because I am . . . 

Utterly Dependent . . . and liking it,
Lonnie  

WONDERING . . . IS THAT YOU GOD?

"I had read through old letters from my grandparents' German friends during World War II and afterward. I noticed sentences like, 'Hans, how happy you made us! How could you possibly have known that we can't get any suspenders right now?' Or, 'The potatoes arrived just at the right time.' So I asked Grandpa to explain. His answer has remained forever in my mind because of its simplicity: 'When something good that we could do to other people crosses my mind or my wife's, then we just do it. It could be the Lord."
Hanspeter Nuesch
Ruth And Billy Graham p. 259

People often tell me that God doesn't speak to them. But . . . maybe He does. 

At one time, my husband and I would respond to a "wonder" with, "At the risk of not obeying we WILL . . . make the phone call, deliver groceries, go to Rice Lake, Wi, write a note, ask someone if we can pray for them. None of these are big things, but they can make huge differences. 

One time, we "wondered" if we should deliver groceries to some friends who were moving. Now, their income was far greater than ours and so we could have dismissed the possibility of it being God speaking to us. But "at the risk of not obeying," we shopped and delivered. Wow! Not only did they need the groceries after paying closing costs, moving expenses, and waiting for the next check, we bought what was on their grocery list!

Tell me that didn't stoke our faith!

You notice I said, "At One Time, WE  . . . " I want to return to that habit. 

So while I'm challenging myself, I'd like to extend the challenge to you. When someone comes to mind, today (tomorrow, this week, this month) and you're caused to "wonder," . . . DON'T. Don't wonder . . . DO! Who knows that it might be God; you and others might be blessed beyond measure. I promise you/us that our wonderings will add new and exciting dimensions to our lives.

I'd love to hear from you, and about your wonderings.

For me to hear . . . For me to 'do,' I find myself . . . 

Utterly Dependent On Him Who Is Utterly Dependable,
Lonnie

QUICK FIXES

"As long as we think the next election might eliminate crime and establish justice or another scientific breakthrough might save the environment or another pay raise might push us over the edge of anxiety into a life of tranquility, we are not likely to risk the arduous life of faith."
Eugene Peterson
A Long Obedience In The Same Direction p.25

When Ray hits me with all the evils of the world--or more likely, the present administration 8-) I reply with my "canned answer:" But God is in control.

Part of that is self talk, to shake off my own fear, which rises faster than someone who just realized their alarm never went off. Yet my words are more than a bit hypocritical, as I discovered when I read Peterson's words.

My combined journal entry/prayer reads like this:

This is so me!
God, pull me out of this mire! I keep looking for the Quick Fix . . . the fix that will make me . . .uh . . . no longer dependent on You.

And I wonder, sometimes, why God doesn't answer my prayers? It's not because He doesn't love me. It's because He does. He desires me -- and you -- to remain close to Him; in fellowship with Him . . . dependent so that we experience His strength and His unfathomable --His very personal love for us.

"When the Lord your God brings you into the land he swore to your fathers, to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, to give you -- a land with large, flourishing cities you did not build, houses filled with all kinds of good things you did not provide, wells that you did not dig, and vineyards and olive groves you did not plant--then you eat and are satisfied. BE CAREFUL THAT YOU DO NOT FORGET THE LORD . . .

All the richness of my life is wrapped up in my relationship with the Lord, yet I keep trying to make Him unnecessary. I tell God, often, that I want to be dependent on Him, but I'm honest; I also tell Him that I HATE being dependent on Him. It's the wonder . . . how will He meet this need or desire? It's the wait . . . usually till the last minute. Both require faith. I want Quick Fixes. He wants ME.
But I am LEARNING to be . . . 

Utterly Dependent on Him . . . Who Is Utterly Dependable,
Lonnie