I love January.  I’m not in the habit of making resolutions though I think it is a worthwhile activity.  January ushers in an opportunity to reassess, reload, reposition,  redeem.  It’s a very healing month.  It’s a time to dust off some tired dreams and bring hope out of hibernation, to correct our trajectory if we have drifted off course.  It’s also a good time to prioritize.  Those of us who have had a bit of experience with New Year’s resoluting can certainly attest to the need for determining what’s most important – as it is often impossible to ‘do it all.’  I think that is what the Pharisee Law experts in Matthew 22 of the New Testament were asking Jesus when they asked:  “What is the greatest commandment?”  They were testing Him to see if he knew.  Oh, He knew.  He knew exactly what was most important.  He said,   “Love God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind….and love your neighbor as yourself.  All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

Good reminder.  While we are breaking it down this January, attempting to zero in on those areas that need improvement, or even complete overhaul -let’s resolve to love.  I know for me –  there’s always room for improvement when it comes to loving God with ALL my heart, soul, and mind.  I have also noticed that loving my neighbor flows out of obeying that first commandment.  It’s just easier  to love my neighbor when I am consumed with loving God.

Too many times I have focused on the religious practices I have come to know so well -  the rules and regs, the behavioral code, the acceptable modus operandi of Christians, taught to me in great detail throughout my life.  Don’t get me wrong – I am grateful for all the ‘education’ I have received – knowledge is helpful and even needful as we strive to wrap our arms around what we believe.  But it’s like my late father used to say, “Keep the main thing, the main thing.”

It’s January.  2012 is a big clean notebook.   Each new moment –  a blank page awaiting the stroke of my pen.

I am resolved to love.

Oh, I want to build my business, and I must get fit, keep a cleaner house, organize my photos, and all the rest.  But, at the end of December when I look in the rear view mirror, let me see abundant evidence of the main thing.

Love is a verb, do it resolutely.

I am amazed at how ‘different’ things are since 20 years ago…ok since last week.  The pace at which things are changing is either faster than it used to be, or perhaps I am just struggling to keep up.  I do know that  my getting older has caused Sundays to be about three days apart and this causes Christmas to come about every five-and-a-half months.  Time flies –  whether I’m having fun or not.

When I was a pre-teen, I longed to be a full-fledge teen, then when I achieved ‘teen-ness’  – I really could not wait to go to college.  Of course, college was a place to live out my days longing to be done with college, and married.  Then I got married, and a very strange thing happened.  I began to want to slow down time, and whereas days had always seemed painfully long and slow – now they were causing emotional whiplash as they seemingly whizzed on by.  This phenomenon has continued now for 28 years, and I am certain I have no idea how to remedy it.

My grandmother used to exclaim every July 10 on her birthday…”I don’t know how I got this old.”  I understand now what caused her to utter such absurdities.  It’s that “vapor” thing talked about in scripture.  Something happens when one reaches a certain age to cause this vaporizing pace to gain serious momentum, and then suddenly you wake up one day and you’re say….50!

But back to “things” being different.  “Things” are definitely different.  I grew up without central air conditioning.  I didn’t know cars had seat belts until I was practically an adult.  We had a party line telephone in our house…with a very long cord I might add.  Eating out usually meant a picnic, and yes –  I walked uphill to school both ways.  I was born in the early 60′s, so the 70′s and 80′s brought a great many differences.  There was unleaded gasoline, power steering, microwaves, and shag carpet.  Then, in the late 80′s, my parents sported their first “car-phone.”

In the 90′s, we saw personal computers become a must-have, and everything that had cords became cordless.  Y2K dawned without too much of the much anticipated  hassle…..and then 9/11 happened and rocked our world…..and I simply cannot believe how different things are since that fateful day.  Talk about not being able to un-scramble eggs!

Well, if you are utterly and completely depressed…please do not change the channel.  I will refer us back to the opening quote of this particular post.  Things are different, but that doesn’t mean all has changed.  More than ever before, this is a truth we need to ponder.

I recently read that with all the economic stress we have endured, Americans are eating out less, doing more staycations, playing more board games, and rediscovering the joys of gardening.  It’s a return to some semblance of simplicity.  It has caused some to rediscover their family members at the dinner table, and to reassess priorities.  I must say, I never would pray for hard times, but I often welcome the positive effects.

I, too, have felt a need in recent years to slow things down a bit, and just listen to myself breathe.  I have been delighted to discover that some things never change.  There are constants that God has installed in the universe to remind us that “He who keepeth Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps…and with Him there is no shadow of turning.”  When I awaken each day to the sounds of familiar birds, and I put my feet on the floor off the right side of the bed, and start my well-rehearsed routine – I am comforted to know  - in a world that is perpetually changing, there is a God who never does. 

Yesterday, today, tomorrow……I know Whom I have believed.

I treasure those ‘isms’ now as I recall them and pay them forward to my children.  Things like….”that boy doesn’t believe cow horns will hook!”  Or – “if you’re bein’ rubbed the wrong way – you cats may need to turn around.”  Or – one of my all-time favorites – when he wanted to communicate his absolute determination to get something done, he would often say – “I’m gonna get that done even if it hairlips the governor.”  What?  Oh well - whenever he used that one - I could be sure ’it’ would get done. 

He often spoke of his determination to reach goals, take trips, finish projects.  He had an uncanny ability to gather up his will,  grab hold of those ‘ bootstraps,’  and climb the mountain at hand.  I remember on many occasions during testimony time at our little church on the corner of Skyway and West Myers Street – he would say without reservation, “Folks, I’ve got a made-up mind.”  He was referring, of course, to his unwavering determination to follow Jesus. 

We would do well to have the same kind of mind  – the made-up kind.  In a world where absolute truth is often touted as unfriendly and traded for something a bit more palatable – a made-up mind, though unpopular – is a good thing to have.  Of course, the made-up mind got its bad name from those who have been mean and stubborn over the years – those who lacked a teachable spirit.  You have no doubt encountered these “my way or the highway” types.  Dad was speaking more of backbone and gumption…..good ole basic resolve.  Now there’s a word we can use.

There’s a time for mercy, a place for grading on the curve, and even a need to let some things slide from time to time.  But, there are some things that need to remain “non-negotiable.”  I know what those things are for me.  There are some lines I will not cross.  There are some commitments I absolutely must keep.  There are some truths that shall forever remain. 

In 2 Corinthians 10 – Paul speaks of  “taking thoughts captive and making them obedient to Christ.”  He used different words than my Dad – but he was talking about a “made-up mind.”  It’s a great time of year to take inventory of our lives, straighten our spines, and arrest those ‘unruly’ thoughts and tell ‘em what’s what.

“I am resolved no longer to linger – charmed by the world’s delight.  Things that are higher, things that are nobler – these have allured my sight.  I am resolved to go to the Saviour – leaving my sin and strife.  He is the True One, He is the Just One.  He has the Words of Life.  I will hasten to Him – hasten so glad and free.  Jesus – Greatest, Highest – I will come to Thee.”

I’m right there with you, Dad.

I remember times when it seemed that my ducks were more inclined to get in a row.  I was a stay-at-home mom and had all kinds of time to work with these webbed foot darlings.  They would line up for me and I would stand back and observe them and smile with deep satisfaction.

But, lately – not so much.  My ducks are not liking rows these days.  They seem to be sending me a message that they are tired of conforming.  Every now and then I look at them and sigh –  and let my mind wander back to the good ol days when things were alphabetized, categorized, and synchronized.

With 2010 coming to a close, I am inspired to work with these little guys to see if I can motivate them to line up in time for the New Year.  I have high hopes for 2011 – I’m seeing visions of labels, calendars, and storage bins.  I am dreaming about taking new ground in the closet and drawer beautification arena.  I even see Christmas Cards being ready to mail by the end of November.

But, alas, I will confess that the proliferation of silver strands among the brown –  brings with it the wisdom to differentiate the urgent from the important.  That wisdom urges me to always bear in mind that people are much more important than ‘ducks.’   If I don’t get anything else done – I will make time for expressing love to those God has placed in my life.

I will never give up on my ducks – but I am more comfortable than ever with their ‘free-spiritedness.’

Sanctuary - a beautiful word indicating a sacred consecrated place, or a refuge: a shelter from danger or hardship.

I often reminisce about the little church I attended with my family as a child.  In my mind’s eye, I can see my grandmother playing the piano, my dad leading worship, and my mom on the front row of the choir loft.  I learned so much about God, His faithfulness, His mercy, His love.  I was very young when I first experienced the warmth of His presence in that place.

I learned from my parents’ example the power of time spent alone with God, the practice of choosing to quiet myself before Him, to pray, and to listen.

There is a particular ’sanctuary’ I love more than any house of worship I have ever attended.  It is a very small room with a large window, a table, and five chairs.  Four of the chairs surround the round table in the center of the room, while the fifth chair – a bit larger and fully upholstered -  is perched in the corner of the room next to the window.  The ‘room’ is my mother’s breakfast nook.  The upholstered chair – a sacred seat.  On a shelf behind ‘the chair’ you can find my mother’s worn Bible, and ‘the book’ where the names of her beloved family members are written.

When I visit her, we sit in the nook and drink coffee and catch up on the latest.  The nook serves as extra dining space at Christmas dinners, and even a desk for the ‘grands’ as they collaborate to produce the fine artwork that graces Mom’s fridge.

But, in the wee hours, before the sun peaks through the window – and before the birds gather ’round the many feeders that hang in the boughs of the ornamental trees outside – the nook serves as a sanctuary.

The sweet, small-framed woman who is the faithful matriarch of our clan – takes her place in that chair every morning.  There, in the pre-dawn stillness, she meets with the Father – to remind Him of her desires for her family, and to thank Him for all that He means to her.  I’m certain she shares the secret burdens of her heart, and finds strength to face the day.  I am also certain that as long as she lives – my name will be remembered before the throne of God, along with the names of my siblings, our husbands, wives, offspring, and as the need dictates – our cats and dogs.

In that little church, we used to sing a familiar hymn.  There is a place of quiet rest – Near to the heart of God….a place where sin cannot molest – Near to the heart of God.  The nook serves as a constant reminder to me that God has promised to ‘draw nigh’ – if I will.  He’s always ready to meet me in the place I hollow out.

Mother knows best.  This world will take its toll with its burdens and cares and distractions.  The only rest for the weary sojourner is found in the shelter of His wings.

Do you hear the cry of your own heart?  Maybe it sounds much like the famed cry of the ‘Hunchback of Notre Dame’……

…Sanctuary.  Sanctuary.

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Often it seems we live in a culture that has come to believe, ‘good things come to those who wait – and even better things to those who cut in line.’ 

Patience is defined as “the state of endurance under difficult circumstances, persevering in the face of delay or exhibiting forbearance when under strain, especially when faced with longer-term difficulties.”  No one wants to pray for patience anymore – as the path to patience is usually paved with aggravated delay. 

The mere mention of the word conjures up uncomfortable emotions, and for good reason.  According to Paul, in Romans 5 – “Patience produces character, and character – hope.”   But, what produces patience?  Suffering.  Yeah, that’s right.  No wonder the halls of heaven aren’t echoing with cries from Planet Earth for more patience.  Who wants to suffer?

It’s not as if we can avoid suffering just by refusing to pray for patience.  Jesus tells us it’s a given that ”in this world we will have trouble.”  Suffering – being forced to deal with difficulties, delays, and dilemmas – is inevitable.

The disciples were impatient with some little children who were being brought to Jesus one day.  Jesus’ dutiful ‘handlers’ set about rebuking the parents of these little guys – believing the Son of God had better things to do.  Jesus admonished his well-meaning followers, saying, “Suffer these little ones to come unto me, and forbid them not, for the kingdom belongs to such as these.” 

The use of the word suffer, here, is indicative of an act of the will.  Jesus was essentially saying - ‘put up with them, tolerate their childish curiosity, be willing to be inconvenienced.  Interrupt the regularly scheduled program for them – because they get it.  The kingdom is really theirs.’

This ‘voluntary suffering’ Jesus spoke of with regard to the children calls us to make room in our lives for the abundance of the kingdom often disguised as an annoying inconvenience.  We are given many opportunities to embrace the important, and ignore our instincts for the urgent.  Only when we are tuned in to God’s Voice and determined to follow His lead, do we recognize such opportunity.

The truth is that suffering – whether it comes upon us or we sign up for it - yields a harvest of patience in our lives.

We can be sure that our Father is ever eager to redeem our trials, our struggles – even our interruptions and rabbit trails – and use them all for our good.  He is the Master Designer, working it all out….right on time.

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Gone are the days when, as a young girl, my mother would lay out my outfit for the day, and all I had to think about was making sure the ‘tag was in the back.’ 

Clothes are important – we all need them – and not just to ‘cover up.’  Oh no – clothes are so much more than basic covering for our bodies.  For instance, we use our garments to communicate – as in when we are attempting to make a good impression during a job interview, first date, or business meeting.   Some seek significance and a sense of worth as they don their favorite labels – and wouldn’t be caught dead in anything but the very best.  Many communicate much about their personalities – whether they intend to or not – simply by the types of clothes they choose for themselves. 

We seek comfort from our favorites – those scruffy sweatshirts and jeans or beloved pajamas.  These familiar ‘friends’ wrap us up in softness and warmth, chasing away our stress.

It goes without saying that whether we put a lot of thought into our wardrobe, or just throw something together and go – we all clothe ourselves in something.  Clothing is a basic – like food, water, and shelter. 

Sometimes we stress over what to wear, and perhaps sometimes we stress over whether or not we will have something to wear. 

Jesus said, ‘Don’t worry about what you will wear.”  He talked about the lilies of the field being splendidly clothed by the Father, saying, “How much more will He clothe you.”  This lets us know that God sees clothing as one of our basic needs and that He intends to provide for us in this way. 

But there’s another scripture that talks about clothing.  It’s found in Paul’s writings in Ephesians – where he says, “Put on the full armor of God.”   Paul challenges us to purposely put it all on so we will be appropriately dressed and ready for life.

One of my very favorite ‘clothes scriptures’ is found in Proverbs 31.  Verse 25 tells us, “she clothes herself with strength and dignity.”  So many times we want others to lend us strength.  We look to others to respect us enough that we feel dignified, when in reality, it is God who imparts a sense of dignity and worth that we might clothe ourselves.

God has promised to provide the actual physical raiment we need each day,  just as He has promised to feed us.  However, He is not going to come and put our clothes on for us – He has not promised to dress us.  That’s our part.

When standing before the clothes rack, pondering what to wear - which of the varied textile garments one chooses on a given day is all about personal preference.  Those other items –  the full armor of God, and strength, and dignity – are absolute must-haves for every spiritual wardrobe. 

They’re laid out for us, but we must put them on – everyday.

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September is the month when my spirit – having suffered from heat exhaustion – starts to breathe a sigh of relief.  I was born in North Carolina, and now live in Tennessee – which means I have lived most of my life in the South.  Many times when people think of Southern summers – they envision shady porches with elegant glass pitchers of fresh, cold lemonade accompanied by a heavenly breeze.  That’s nice. 

But, sometimes – most of the time – Southern Summers are just incredibly….HOT.

Thankfully, God has provided an antidote for Southern Summer Syndrome – that would be September.  Around Labor Day, the sky starts to take on a clearer blue, and the sun casts a different light creating more distinctly defined shadows.  The humidity, we have begrudgingly accepted as a necessary evil –  begins to dissipate, and is replaced with clear,  lung-friendly air.  Those afore-mentioned porches, once avoided or vacated due to unbearable steamy heat, get another chance to charm their visitors – who now return to their rockers to drink in the welcome changes this beloved month brings.

I was born in September, but that surely cannot be the reason I love this month so.  I have thought about it and concluded that it is a month of restoration.  September puts something back that the summer heat took away. 

Please understand – I am not anti-Summer.  I enjoy the break from normal routine, the garden veggies, the vacations, the grilled burgers and dogs, and the abundant flowers and freshly mowed lawns.  Quite simply – it’s the heat that gets me.  This relentless heat that begins to take its toll by mid-August.  Then,  just in the nick of time, September comes and wilted souls rally.

Sometimes life is like mid-August in Tennessee.  It’s been too long since we felt a light cool breeze, and we begin to think the oppressive heat will never subside.  The spring in our step is replaced with a tired shuffle as we long for a change in the sky – even the slightest hint that a new season could be dawning.

In Peter’s writings, there is a promise – “After you have suffered a little while – He himself will restore you, make you strong and steadfast.”   Yes…After August, comes September.  Thirty days of refreshing, restorative, reassurance.

Bring it on.

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We have been friends with this particular family for centuries.  The groom’s father and Joe were boyhood pals, went to high school and college together.  Joe’s mother worked for his father.  Upon marrying, the friendship became a foursome because his wife and I hit it off.  They had three sons who are friends with our three sons.  And since you are, no doubt, getting the picture….it is easy to see why – when asked – Joe and I were more than happy to take the weekend and make the trip to a small Alabama town to participate in this family’s celebration.

I played piano and Joe played classical guitar.  We had the best seat in the ‘house’ – (though it was outdoors) – as we were positioned just slightly stage right, adjacent to the wedding party.  We began to play sentimental love songs to empty chairs at first.  Then, slowly, people who loved the bride and groom and had come to honor them, took their places bride-side or groom-side as they anticipated the commencement of the ceremony.

We were  gathered on the grounds of a Civil War era plantation – the expansive lawn ’all dressed up’ with white chairs, candles, flowers, and ribbons.  My position up front afforded me a start-to-finish view of the sweet parade of grandparents, parents, beloved groomsmen and bridesmaids, little junior attendants, and finally – the radiant bride.  The ceremony was officiated by two of the grandfathers – each full-time ministers exhibiting nothing but sheer delight at having been honored with the task of performing such a sacred duty for their own.  It was lovely to be sure – and made even more lovely because of the long history we all have shared.

As I sat watching everything unfold –  drinking in the faces, the words, the moments – I thought about Life.  Sometimes my life feels like a big movie screen draped across the sky of time.  The people I have known and loved are all players entering the screen on cue, and playing their part.  We move together across time, some aging out and disappearing, while others continue to come on the scene either because they are born – or discovered.  Many of us have been on the ‘screen’ together long enough to remember when there were fewer lines around the eyes and perhaps less gray hair.  Yet, there we are – all together – doing this thing called Life.

Weddings, births, birthdays, Christmases, Thanksgiving Dinners, graduations, and even funerals are all markers in the script where the heart takes note.   I like to call it the soul-cam – it’s a recording of sorts – a spiritual documentation of those moments the heart holds dear and stores in the ‘archives.’

This whole thing has brought to my attention once more the fact that Life is happening right now.  The mundane things that demand our time, energy, and attention everyday are not necessarily the things we will recall with a pleasured smile – if we are blessed enough to be old one day. 

It will more likely be the purposeful pauses – those moments that were decidedly recorded and stored away.

Maybe I am not the only one who needs to make room for more soul-cam moments – to look into the eyes of the people I love and tell them so, to study their smiles and the features of their faces, to watch them dance on the ’big screen,’ and to cut in and dance with them from time to time.

There’s an invitation extended by God to show up and live this life to the full.  As with any invitation, your participation/presence is requested.  Requested as in optional.  The choice is yours – but let me encourage you to not miss out.

So…Accept/Decline – please check the appropriate box.

Wait – the verb – is defined as ‘the act of remaining inactive in one place while expecting something.’  That is precisely what I do not like about waiting – it is the act of not acting.  Human logic begs to know how in the world such inactivity can be helpful or fruitful?  Alas, we have named our tribe the human race – not the human pause.  Who ever wishes for a red light?  No, I’ll have the green, thank you.

Then there’s ‘wait’ – the noun - defined as ‘the period of time one may be required to be engaged in the act of being inactive in expectation of an impending event.’   Ah yes, we’ve all known something of the dreaded waiting period.  Waiting for the bus, the paycheck, the baby to be born, the baby to sleep, the doctor to see you, the call, the light to change, the change to come, the wait to end. 

The urge to act, and the belief that being inactive is bad, are at the root of one of the greatest spiritual dilemmas known to mankind.  One need only observe a tennis match in progress to understand that the ball is not always in your court.  The need to hit the ball when it is in one’s court is only half of the story – the other half is to wait and observe while someone else has control of the ball.  It follows that it is never a good idea for one to try to control the ball when it is not in one’s court.  Waiting profits much in such a scenario.  So there you have it – waiting can be beneficial, helpful, even fruitful!

For me – if it’s inevitable – this business of having to be ‘actively inactive in anticipation of being active again’ – then – by all means – let’s put as positive a spin as possible on the whole thing.  Oh – wait! -(no pun intended)- God already did that.  “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength…Wait on the Lord and be of good courage, and He will strengthen your heart.”  These two scriptures speak of a very real connection between waiting and strength.  Could it be we are growing stronger as a result of choosing to wait on Him?  Only if you believe His Word….

…and that would be me.  I believe.  Call me crazy, but I still believe in absolute truth, and I believe truth begins with God’s Word.  There have been several generations of folks who have put it to the test, and found it to be rock-solid, sure, and dependable. 

It’s time to redeem those forced pauses – to remember and believe that God is always working.  When the ball is in His court, He knows what to do with it. 

I will wait, wait, wait upon the Lord.