A Matter of Perspective

It was time. My little-league-toting, gas-guzzling SUV was making a noise that let us know its days were numbered. After de-mucking and grieving, we traded it in for a sedan. I am still getting used to feeling as if I am sitting on the ground and miss all the space of my SUV, but my gasoline budget is happier.

Taking the highway to my husband's work last week, I noticed another big difference between the two vehicles. In my old SUV, the speedometer topped out at about 85 miles per hour. So, going the legal limit of 70 on the highway meant the needle was almost as far as it would go. In my new little sporty sedan, the speedometer goes to something crazy like 140 miles per hour. Now, going the legal limit of 70, my needle is barely halfway around. I feel like I need to catch up!

It's all a matter of perspective, isn't it?

Like that outfit I put on this morning that seemed a little revealing, but when I look at how the other women at the office dress it's not too bad. Besides, extra attention it gets me from the guys on the third floor is nice.

I don't put my husband down too bad compared to the other ladies in my Bunco group. Besides, it's only for laughs. I don't really mean it.

I'm not really talking about those people. I'm sharing my feelings. That's completely different, right?

It's all a matter of perspective.

We are called to be "in the world, not of the world," and to "be holy as your heavenly father is holy." If I'm using anyone on earth as my "speedometer," I may be going way beyond what is safe and reasonable for a child of God.

Hear what God's word has to say:

Therefore, prepare your minds for action; be self-controlled; set your hope fully on the grace to be given you when Jesus Christ is revealed. As obedient children, do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance. But just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do; for it is written: "Be holy, because I am holy" (1 Peter 1:13-16 NIV).

Safety, Beauty, and Power

originally on Heartlight

It had been a hot, difficult week of work for the teens on the mission trip. The other sponsors and I were just as eager as the teens for a fun day — an excursion to a water park in a nearby coastal town. The park wasn't large, but was a well-planned water amusement park.

We enjoyed the rides, slides, and boogie boards. There was no need to leave your inner tube to stand in line — you could float while waiting for the various rides. Rapids and a conveyor belt hauled park-goers the circumference of the park as they enjoyed enormous buckets of water dumped at random times and various waterfall spots. It was a good way to relax after a long week of hot mission work for the teens and sponsors.

When we gathered for lunch, almost as an afterthought, several of us made plans to venture out to the beach. With admission to the park came access to the adjacent beach. We cleaned up our area, left the shady picnic spot of the park, making our way toward the beach.

Up a flight of stairs and across a lengthy, narrow, rickety, wooden bridge we trudged through the heat of the glaring sun. The bridge seemed forever long as it stretched across sand overgrown with weeds. Finally the bridge emptied the group onto crystal white sands with the thunderous ocean beating down at our feet, still steaming from the trek over the bridge. The air was a cooler temperature here as the wind blew in off of the ocean.

As the teens began to play like toddlers in the surf, shedding the cloak of ambivalence they try to maintain at all times, I surveyed the scene. With all respect to the architects of the water park, it simply couldn't compare. If it had been a photograph I would have claimed it to be photoshopped, with too-perfect tinting of blue-green water rolling in on the white sand. The brilliant azure of the sky was punctuated with soft puffs of white. The picture was perfectly accented by a lone ship floating regally on the horizon.

As my eyes took in the beauty, the rest of my senses were overwhelmed with this awe-inspiring scene. The faint smell of salt rolled in on the cool breeze that refreshed my sun-warmed skin. The call of the gulls could be heard sporadically over the faithful roar of the waves.

The whole of the scene filled my heart, as well as my eyes with tears, as I considered the One who created it all. How could any of this compare to the man-made park we had just left? The beauty was breathtaking; the peace that the scene brought was beyond compare.

My eyes continued to survey the wonder while watching the teens and enjoying the sound of their laughter. I began to notice another enormous contrast to the water park: where were all the people? A couple of love birds holding hands in the surf, a young girl with a scorched back building a sandcastle, and a small family seemed to be the only people at that section of beach. Where were all the people?

Back at the water park floating the lazy river, I suppose.

I grieved over how many people were missing this breathtaking sight, just feet from where they played in man-made fun.

Of course, there were no lifeguards on the beach, and warnings were posted about a dangerous current. With the majesty of the ocean came amazing power, dangerous if not respected.

When we finally wearied of jumping and playing in the surf we began the long walk across the footbridge back to the park. I glanced back at the beach, wondering how many times I have missed a scene so majestic by playing it safe. Majesty may be waiting just beyond a long, lonely walkway, through thorns and weeds.

Have I ever traded a walk with the Lord on His breathtaking beach for the safety of a go-nowhere lazy river, overcrowded with other safety seekers?

I recalled a scene in the book "The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe," by C.S. Lewis where Mr. and Mrs. Beaver are trying to explain Aslan the lion to the children:

"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver. "Don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."

Is walking with my Lord safe? No, not always. Like the beach, there may be danger and trials my earthly eyes can't see or understand. I've certainly suffered my share of scrapes and bruises. But he is always very, very good.

I've Become the Other Woman

originally on heartlight

"This is how we know what love is ..."

I have frequently requested a weather forecast for my church. Not for the town the church is in -- for the auditorium. I have suggested a running scroll on the website: "Current temp in the auditorium is 58° and breezy. Dress accordingly." or "High of 84° in the auditorium today." I have yet to be heeded.

Recently it was 58° and breezy. On Easter Sunday. The children were precious in their Easter finery and blue lips. My daughter, Ashley, and I were in "spring-ish" type clothes, but not sleeveless. When I sat down, I got quite cool quickly.

I was sitting next to my husband, Troy, while Ashley was on the other side of him. He finally put his arm around her trying to warm her up a little. I sure would have liked that warm arm around me, but I made do tucking as much of myself under the other arm at his side trying to warm up. Eventually, he leaned forward to remove his jacket. "Good plan," I thought, "Leave your arm around Ashley, and give me the jacket -- or vice-versa, whatever. I'm good." Oh, no. He handed Ashley the jacket so he could have both of his arms back.

Let me be honest -- I sat there shivering. And beaming. It pleased me to sit by while Troy took care of his girl the way she needs to be taken care of. I want my daughter to know her daddy is crazy about her. As she seeks out a husband, I want her to know how she should be treated, and know what it's like to be the apple of a man's eye.

Having a loving parent helps a child understand the love of God -- well, as much as we can understand it on this planet. Having loving parents helped me start to get an idea about the unconditional love of God. I want Ashley to know that as crazy as we both are about her, it's just a tiny drop compared to the abundant, never-ending, perfect love of her heavenly Father.

I spend plenty of time shivering for her while watching tennis, I don't mind a little more shivering while her daddy takes care of her. It's why I picked him.

Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us (1 John 4:11-12 TNIV).

We're Fresh-Brewed!!!

Check this out:

A few months ago I (Sarah) finished reading Nicole Johnson's book, Fresh Brewed Life. (It's splendidly awesome and you need to read it. Book review. The end). As a writer, it touched me how the tone of it is very conversational and enjoyable. I went to Nicole's website and sent her a little note of appreciation for the book, telling her that I received it when my Coffee Group spoke at one of our events.

Well, lo and behold, Nicole's assistant Michelle cruised over to our website, (which has recently been updated and you should go cruise, too) checked us out, and decided we sound pretty fresh brewed.

There were a few email exchanges, a conference call interview, and here we are!! Check us out over at Nicole's Fresh Brewed Life!! (I can call her Nicole because we have gotten to be SO close... not really, but Michelle? Michelle rocks out loud!)

Thanks, Michelle and Nicole for the shout out! We can't wait to see what God will do with this publicity!

Considering Valentine's Day

originally on heartlight

My family experienced some minor medical drama the week between Christmas and New Year's while traveling out of state. On one of my many trips to the drug store, I had to stop dead in my tracks. I was perusing the Christmas decorations and wrapping paper on clearance. I turned around to look for more, and was faced with a shelf full of boxes of Valentine's cards that children will use to declare love for classmates. Before the confetti of the New Year's holiday is swept up, the shelves in stores are fully stocked with hearts, balloons, and all manner of Valentine props and paraphernalia.

Maybe it's age, maybe it's motherhood, maybe it's global warming, but I don't think of Valentine's Day the same way that I did as a young, single woman or newlywed. Valentine's Day is a fun, light-hearted opportunity to lavish love on those around you, but life has shown me that love rarely looks like the front of a Hallmark card.

Love is not running along a beach hand in hand. Love holds the flashlight in the middle of the night, make-up long gone and tempers flaring, holding your tongue while your sweetie attempts an emergency home repair. Love isn't demonstrated by dewy eyes across a candlelit meal, but rather by one more run to the doctor or pharmacy when you are exhausted beyond reasonable or rational thought.

Valentine's Day lends itself to romance. Romance is wonderful and exciting, but won't take you very far when the stomach bug hits, or your "Love Shack" floods, or one of your parents is critically ill and/or dies. Romance will not be found in any of those situations, but love is there larger than life. Love brings the cool wash cloth again and again for the stomach bug, and mops and covertly repairs damaged keepsakes during the flood, and cries and holds and works and loves with an ill family member.

Love is not rose petals and champagne, but aching backs and work gloves. Love at my house never dances in an evening gown or tuxedo, but love supplies the elbow grease, the patience, the encouragement, and the clean clothes to face each day and, Lord willin' a comforting place to come home to when the day seems to come out on top. Love is holding tight when no words will fix it, and tears the only language uttered.

Love is not a polished, glimmery state. Love is messy, inconvenient, and frustrating. Love is giving up the last ounce of energy, sleep, time, or chocolate for the well-being of another. Love isn't found in romantic restaurants or destinations, but in hospital waiting rooms, the lobby of funeral homes, and kneeling in prayer next to race-car or princess beds in the middle of the night. Love is less about flowers and cartoon hearts, and everything about the value of another soul on this planet. I guess that's a little harder to put on the side of a coffee mug.

I will play along this Valentine's Day, like all the others, and I certainly hope for you to feel cherished on that day. But, later in the year when the toilet overflows while the drama at school comes to a boiling point and work causes too many demands to keep everyone civil, love will be there with a plunger, Kleenex for the tears, and hugs, pats, and kisses for all the things the plunger and Kleenex won't fix. Consider that your own Valentine's Day -- but don't look for Hallmark to make a card for it anytime soon.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails (1 Corinthians 13:4-8 NIV).

Focus On the Goal

by Sarah Stirman
on heartlight

It happened again. Out running, my foot landed squarely on ... something ... a pecan ... a rock? Whatever it was, it rolled my foot right off, twisted my ankle, and sent me sprawling. Now I'm sporting an oh-so-fashionable walking cast and have a few weeks to rest the foot before I can take off running again.

Having a "poor me" moment, I started thinking, "Well, how am I supposed to run? I guess I'll have to focus on the ground around me to keep this from happening again ..." That would slow me down considerably, and cause me to hate running as I would spend each run scanning the road at my feet for obstacles or jeopardy instead of enjoying the scenery and running toward my goal.

Well, what do successful runners do? Successful runners run smart by not running on obviously treacherous landscape, but run with gusto enjoying the scenery, scanning the road for obvious pitfalls and dangers but keeping an eye on the goal, knowing that injury is an acceptable risk: it just might happen and you deal with it when it does. You can't run a successful race worrying about and focusing on obstacles and injuries; you run a successful race by knowing your goal and running toward it.

What if this race I run in life were the same way? What if I spent most of my time enjoying the scenery and focusing on my goal of heaven instead of trying to tiptoe my way around obstacles and worrying about what I will do if I get hurt? I tend to hyper-focus on people that may (or have) hurt me, situations and arguments that hold me back or frustrate me, and obstacles and stumbling blocks that only serve to keep my eyes off my goal.

In the same way that the road I run on is my reality, and perils along the way will likely be a problem at some point, this world that I live in is my reality, no matter how perfect my goal destination is. Focusing on my goal of heaven won't keep this world from affecting me, twisting my ankle and scraping my knees on occasion. But I can't let the fear of that injury keep me from running this race with all I've got, loving and living big and loud, spilling God's love and sharing my goal of heaven along the path. I must run smart, and avoid obvious pitfalls, but I have to accept getting hurt as acceptable risk: it will happen at some point and God will continue to be faithful, providing His people and His comfort in my time of recuperation.

So I'm ready. Ready to get back to road running as well as running through life with my eyes on my goal, not on the pettiness and mess around me. If you see me sprawled along the way, I may need help to my feet, I may need a ride home, and I may need some encouragement and comfort while I recuperate. But I'll invite you to run alongside me, running this race with perseverance, fixing our eyes on Jesus, striding together toward the goal.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:1-2 NIV).