Waiting for Something: The Case for a Puppy

My 8-year-old recently asked, “Why don’t we have a dog yet?”

Our family has been talking about getting a puppy for a couple years, but we’ve always had parameters associated with it.

As soon as we buy a house, we’ll get a dog.

As soon as I retire from the military, we’ll get a dog.

As soon as this or that is done, we’ll get a dog.

My son has had enough of the waiting and now just flat out asks why we are still stalling.

I tried to think of a way to explain to an 8-year-old using a Bible story.  Sarah waiting on a baby, offering her maid to her husband? Nope, not a good 3rd grader type of story.  Lazarus raised from the dead? Pretty complicated for the 3rd grader. Woman healed with the blood issue? Not sure I know enough about it to explain it….

It’s so hard to be patient waiting for something we desire! Often it’s difficult to be patient with God too.  What does it mean to “wait on the Lord”?

There are a couple of key components to waiting on God. The first is a complete dependence on God and the second is a willingness to allow Him to dictate the timeline.  Both sound easy. Neither are.

I find myself praying, “Lord, give me patience…like, now.  Yep, now is when I need the patience.”

Practicing patience with God often involves waiting. When we wait on the Lord, we are developing strengthened character in our Christian walk.  That patience showcases our ability to trust the Lord. It strengthens our prayer life. In some instances, it may strengthen our desire to be into the Word more frequently.

The timing of the Lord is always perfect.  We just have to wait patiently.

The timing of the Shade puppy will also be perfect. My son just has to wait patiently.

~Emily

The case for a puppy

Hummingbirds

Hummingbirds

By Dawn Green

Sitting here waiting on my sister to come to get me for an appointment, I’m watching bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds going from flower to flower.  One hummingbird is smaller than the others, maybe a younger bird, maybe a different kind of hummingbird.  He doesn’t know he’s different, he just goes about his business.  He or she gathers and gathers and then flies to the crepe myrtle to rest a while.

My mind is kind of like that little bird.  It goes from one thing to another, sometimes I get work accomplished, sometimes flitting around gets me distracted so the desired task doesn’t get completed.  Maybe the difference between me and that tiny bird is he has one goal, food for survival, rest a little, then go gather again.

I wonder, too, as I watch, is that the hummingbirds, bees, and butterflies all feed off the same flowers.  Do they know to leave a little for someone else?  Not like the human characteristic to get it all for me.  Also, do the plants produce more nectar because the little creatures come back day after day. Of course, there are eventually new flowers during the growing season.  But some flowers remain on the bushes for several days.  I’m no botanist, however, it all works, I’m amazed at the complexity of God’s creation.  How these tiny creatures know all that they know.

As cute as they are, they are also fierce fighters among themselves, like tiny fighter jets, attacking each other over the bird feeder.  But it doesn’t seem like they ever mortally wound one another, just warn and scold and fuss at each other.  One little bird has found a place beneath the feeder where he can watch his food source and defend it, perched upon the halo of a garden angel.  Another is camouflaged in a nearby tree, where he is the same size, shape, and color of the leaves. He’ll wait and watch and then dive bomb the watching hummer.

I wouldn’t have gotten the pleasure of watching these amazing creatures if the Father hadn’t sat me down for a while, healing from pacemaker surgery.  The goal here is to heal and rest a while.  I wish it didn’t take something like this to slow me down to see God at work.  My friends and family have been generous and thoughtful to do my gathering for me.  And I’m grateful that the Father also brought these sweet people into my life.  He also helped me be settled and see that he is all around me, walking with me in this growing season.  Not to be too sappy, but can’t we be the sweet nectar in the life of another?  Serving, caring, providing, and protecting, Just as the Lord has done for us and will continue to do.

He promised, “I’ll never leave you or forsake you”.  He’s definitely all around me.

~Dawn

Hummingbird graphics

Servant vs. Slave

Several years ago, I served at a large church as the event coordinator for the monthly women’s events.  Because of the size of the events, there was a need for immense organization and planning months in advance.  There was a lack of commitment to pre-planning and subsequently, I ended up with a lot of last-minute changes dictated by the church leadership.   Initially, I was excited and joyful about the experience, but as time went on I became bitter about my role.  I had volunteered for this role, yet I began thinking of how I could resign gracefully.  I no longer wanted to serve in that capacity.

When you hear the word servant what do you think of? Within the context of the church if someone asks you to serve on a committee or in a ministry does it strike up an image in your head?  In your mind, does servant and slave have a different definition?

Servanthood is typically a voluntary position.  It involves willingly acting on behalf of another. It could be offering to get someone a cup of coffee. It could be sitting with nursing home residents playing bingo. It could even be assisting someone with changing a tire.

How does that differ from slavery? The definition of slavery is a distinctly negative one, which expresses that someone does not have a choice in their title or in the expectations for their performance.  It historically has involved hard labor with less than ideal living conditions.  We’ve seen slavery in our nation from before the Declaration of Independence.  We know that the Israelites were enslaved by the Egyptians in the Bible.  Even today, we are seeing an increase in slavery around the globe.

Think about this…what if within the walls of our churches, people are identifying unconsciously as a servant or as a slave?

What if I’m on a committee or involved with a ministry out of a sense of obligation? What if I’m tired, but I was guilted into staying in the nursery during service?  What if I’m in a position that is a mismatch with my spiritual gifts or natural talents?  Am I doing things out of fear of judgment?  Isn’t that a form of self-imposed slavery?

This is in contrast to the joy that is received with willingly volunteering in servanthood.  The person who is functioning in the perfect position for them. The member who is using the skills God gave them.

There’s a distinct difference in the attitude of the joyful servant and the obligated slave.  When this difference occurs in a church, there is a risk for tension to arise. People want to have a particular ministry program, but no one steps up to lead. Probably more common is that the faithful volunteers supporting the ministry programs of a church become over-extended and subsequently quitting.

When we serve, we need to be responsible for where we serve.  We need to have the discernment that we are serving where we are called by God to serve. For instance, if my spiritual gift is teaching, then I know I should not be on the evangelism team.

When we serve responsibility, we are witnessing to the goodness of Christ.  We begin to give visible, real, and tangible displays of God’s love.

 As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace: whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracle of God; whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies- in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong the glory and dominion forever and ever.

~1 Peter 4:10-11

Ultimately, we serve not for our own glory, but to honor our Lord.

I urge you to volunteer and become involved in your church through a servant’s heart. Do not volunteer out of obligation or through guilt…or you risk slipping into a mindset of slavery.

~Emily

@servantsheart

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Snow Boots and A Mother’s Love

My Mom told me the rules.

She warned me.

She told me the consequences.

She tried to train me to remember.

And yet, when I was 8-years-old, I still forgot my snow boots at school on the last day before Christmas break.

The consequence?  Without the boots, I wasn’t going to be allowed to play in the snow for the whole duration of the school break.

God does that with us too.  He tells us the rules, then gives a warning complete with consequences in an effort to train us.

It started as early as the Garden of Eden with the forbidden fruit and continues today.  The standards and discipline come from a place of complete and total love. Those rules and consequences are spelled out in His Holy Word, the Bible.

Like our loving Father’s action to assist in the teaching of His children, my Mom used the forgotten snow boots as a lesson.

She could have made me endure two weeks of snow-related exile.  Instead, as the sky darkened and snow continued to fall, she walked back to the elementary school with me.  As we walked, she explained that there was a strong likelihood that the school would be dark and locked up.  She told me that rules were in place to help me grow into a responsible adult.  She didn’t yell or scold, rather she explained and rationalized.  It seemed like the longest walk ever.

There was one bank of lights on in the elementary school.  After pounding on the door repeatedly, a janitor came and let us in so that I could retrieve my boots.  I don’t remember a single snowman, snow angel or snowball fight from that Christmas vacation.  But I remember my mom’s lesson to keep track of your things.

I love my mom dearly.  And I love the lessons she taught me as a young child and even now as an adult.  As we get closer to Mother’s Day 2019, come to the porch and tell us your favorite life lesson from a maternal figure in your life.

~Emily

“The whole training and education of children.” ~ Ephesians 6:4 (KJV)

Snow Boots

Crying Gifts

I made my husband cry on Christmas day.

All I did was hand him keys and an invoice to a brand-new boat.  He was so overwhelmed that it brought him to tears.  It wasn’t the boat itself that caused the tears. The tears came from knowing, I was willing to be part of investing in his dreams.  At that moment, he knew that I had complete belief that he would have his own fly-fishing guide service.

Have you ever been overwhelmed by a gift and started crying?

I once cried over a set of earrings, my first real diamonds.  I have cried over a rocking chair, in hopes I would one day rock an infant to sleep.  I even cried over my great-grandma’s Bible, entrusted to me as the family historian.

There is an overwhelming emotion that comes out as tears when someone believes in you and your dreams.  A career change, becoming a spouse or parent, or preserving a family’s heritage…all of those are dreams, that when tied to a gift, create an emotional response.  I think that’s the main reason my husband cried over a boat.

With that in mind, do you think Mary cried over the gifts from the wise men?

The Bible tells us that they brought gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Gold is historically a gift provided to someone of royalty.  Not necessarily a traditional gift for a child, but rather a gift fit for a King.  Both frankincense and myrrh are used for their aroma as incense, perfume, and medicine in burial rituals to assist with covering the scent of death.  Not necessarily a traditional gift for a child and certainly not one for a King. Yet these gifts are a foreshadowing of the death that would occur for this small child.

My feminine heart feels like Mary may have cried over those gifts.  They were gifts with overwhelming meaning, which created the potential for an emotional response.  The knowledge that the Messiah had been born and was going to die for all of us.

A death, which would be the ultimate gift. One worthy of an emotional response. And likely the reason that we see new believers often in tears when they first accept this gift from God.  Romans 6:23 states, “For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life.” (NIV)

Whether is a dream come true gift, a piece of history gift, or an extravagant gift, tears could be a natural reaction.  I didn’t mean to make my husband cry on Christmas, nor do I think the wise men would have meant to make Mary cry if that ever happened.

I do believe God smiles benevolently at the heavenly rejoicing when one of us accepts the gift of salvation through the belief that Jesus is our Savior.  It’s likely that He understands tears, as an emotional response to that gift.

~Emily

Boat

Transitions: Change and Growth

I am overwhelmed by all the changes that happened in my life this last week.  I officially retired from the Air Force after 24 years, 10 months, and 26 days (would it just be easier to continue saying 25 years?!?!?!).  That means I was accepted into the “blue card club”; AKA I got my retired military ID card.

As a result of that transition, I was given 30 days to establish formal residency in the state of Alabama.  That means I gave up my Oregon driver’s license this week, which I might add had a 28-year-old-Emily photo and weight.  I traded that in for a Jabba-The-Hut photo with a 25-pound weight gain on a black and white temporary Alabama ID.

This week also brought a switch in health care insurance to retired status for my whole family, as well as registration for voting.  The next Alabama voting season will literally be the first time I have ever voted in an actual polling booth and not through an absentee ballot.

Overwhelming transitions that changed many of my self-identifiers.

*No longer active duty…now retired.

*No longer an Oregonian…now an Alabamian (is that the correct term??!?!?!).

*No longer insured for free…now paying lots for healthcare.

*No longer absentee voter…now a poll voter.

While I was feeling overwhelmed this week, our good-good God took time to remind me that we are all in transition.  Sometimes those transitions are overwhelming and sometimes they seem minor, but those transitions are always blessings from God. Those transitions grow us into stronger women…stronger wives & mommas…stronger friends…stronger Christians.

The book of Joshua is filled with amazing reminders that we are not the only ones who have faced transition.  I would argue that after forty years of wandering through the wilderness, God’s people were facing transition as they prepared to enter the promised land.  They faced transition when Moses died.  They faced a transition when Moses’ assistant, Joshua, was placed in charge.

Joshua faced a life-changing transition from the support team to a leader.

As always, God provided guidance.  He told Joshua, “Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go. Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful” (Joshua 1:7-8 NIV).

God’s words of direction became a foundation of Joshua’s leadership.  Our Father went on to state, “Have I not commanded you Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9 NIV).

Joshua’s leadership status and mission were huge transitions in comparison with me getting a couple of new ID cards.  Yet, it illustrates that transitions happen to us all. Large and small transitions happen every day.

Your identity may change.  Your status may change. Your circumstance may change. But remember this; overwhelming or not, His hand is with us in every transition.

~Emily

Military

 

The Heirloom Quilt

The room is a chilly 65 degrees. It’s super dark. There are half a dozen heavy blankets on the bed.  This, my friends, is my classic formula for a wonderful night of sleep.

Recently, my husband was asking for Christmas present suggestions and I casually mentioned that I wanted to try the weighted blankets.  (Have you seen these blankets?!??!?! They are 20 or 40 pounds and lull you to sleep like you are an infant rocking in your momma’s arms!)

He looked at me, as though I’d threatened to cut off his pinky toe.  He responded, “You don’t need a weighted blanket. You have THE quilt.”

THE quilt is my favorite quilt.  THE quilt is large enough to cover a full bed, but just a tad too big for a twin bed.  THE quilt needs febreze frequently, as it’s way past the washing machine phase.  THE quilt probably weighs about 40 pounds. And yes, I have THE quilt.

The quilt was first sewn in the late 1800s by my great-great-grandmother in a small farming community of Wisconsin.  It was originally sewn from worn-out garments and was the definition of a “patchwork” quilt.

In 1920, my great grandmother sewed over that quilt with another layer of worn-out garments and scraps of fabric.  She tried her best to find feminine colors, as this quilt then became my grandmother’s quilt.  My grandmother recovered the quilt when she got married and again when she had my Aunt.

By 1950, the quilt was passed to my mom as her baby blanket with another layer added.  My mom added her own crazy quilt patchwork layer in the late 1960s, as she headed off to college.  She recovered it again in 1975 as my first blanket.  She taught me to sew and let me recover the quilt when I was 10 years old. After joining the military, I recovered the quilt again.

In 2013, I recovered the quilt one more time. But this time, I could not help but really concentrate on the love and history in this blanket.  The last four generations of my mom’s family have added to this blanket, simply by covering it up with another layer.  That concentration translated to an insatiable curiosity about what the layers-upon-layers looked like.  Could I touch fabric that my great-grandmother had sewn?

As I sewed the new covering, I thought about generational blessings.  I understand that the phrase “generational blessings” is not overtly found in scripture; however, there is evidence of how generations are blessed throughout the years.

Think about Matthew 1:1, where we see the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.  This is a verse that presents evidence of Jesus being the seed of Abraham.  While it does not say, “you will be blessed through all the previous generations,” it does indicate that we are indeed blessed by generational lineage.  A lineage that created the provision of the perfect Son of God, who came solely to die for us.  That is a generational blessing, indeed.

With scriptures in mind, I paused to give thanks to the Lord for that blessing and for providing a way to heaven through His Son. I also gave praise to a family of women who were resourceful in getting supplies to sew a quilt over 100 years ago.

And then I carefully cut through a seam in the middle of the quilt covering from when I was 19 and 10 years old. I cut through the quilt seam of my early childhood to my mom’s college years.  I cut through another seam and another seam…all through the years until I came to the very first thin layer of well worn-garments that was first sewn in the late 1800s.

It was dingy grey and threadbare.  Paper thin to the point I thought it may fall apart in my hands.  The tiny hand sewn stitches still holding fast after a century. As I sat looking at the seamstress work of my great-grandmother, I cried tears of happiness to have seen the center of the quilt.

I put a few loose stitches into each layer of the quilt and finally slipped the newest cover onto the old, yet still new, quilt.  A quilt of generational blessings.  THE quilt.

What family heirlooms that make your heart cry and smile in the same breath? Come tell us at the porch…

~Emily

 “For the Lord is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations.” ~Psalm 100:5 (NIV)

quilt2