It was dark. I grasped the floor, trying to find some unseen object. I couldn’t remember what I was looking for, but I knew it was on the floor, not far away.
If I could only pick it up!
“Where are you?” I cried, tears streaming down my face. Then I brushed up against something, the finger of God. I tried to grasp it but went in the wrong direction by mistake and lost my sense of where it was again.
But now my heart was beating with hope.
The tears stopped flowing, just a riverbed of dry tears streaming down my face, now.
“Where are you, God?” I called out. Hope filled my heart.
Click here to continue reading this (previously published) post.
Thanks for reading Restoring Life! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
I want to be clear that I don’t think God knows what he’s doing with this one annoying habit of letting everyone use His name and, therefore, call themselves a Christian.
(I.e. Christian comes from the word Christ, as in followers of Jesus Christ.)
Look, I wish all the Christians looked like Olivia Newton-John and John Travolta, too. But they don’t. At least they could all look like Bill Gates and maybe not be super handsome but have an intellectual coolness in their back pocket.
Look, just so it’s clear if I was vetting admittance to the Jesus team, I’d have admittance cards.
Click here to continue reading this (previously published) post.
Thanks for reading Restoring Life! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work so my ego feels important!
My blog’s birthday, that is. My blog is two years old this week*. I can’t believe you found me in this unknown, unvisited corner of the internet!
And wow!
I can’t believe that every day, 10 of you** (No, I didn’t forget any zeros. Why do you ask?) read this stuff! And it’s not just the people in my family I bribe with food anymore! Whisper: Don’t people have anything better to do nowadays?
I put on my gloves, breathing in the brisk fall air and preparing to stomp on some fallen leaves with her as we walked together.
I excitedly anticipated hearing what ups and downs on the journey of life had coaxed her to recently move to our little town by the river, and to join our homey little church.
[God will give] a thorough housecleaning, getting rid of all the historical and religious junk so that the unshakeable essentials stand clear and uncluttered.
“Oh, there’s Raymond,” my new friend muttered under her breath as we passed by a disheveled, drug-addled young man. I was anxious to get back to our conversation and see what happened next in her life story. I coaxed, “but what made you move to . . . ”
She wasn’t listening.
“Hi, Raymond,” she called out. He smiled, genuinely pleased to see my friend, and waved at the three of us. At that exact moment, I looked around to see who must have smacked my new friend, as her eyes were inexplicably filling with tears. The cold fall air, I wondered. A brisk walk often made my eyes run, too.
But she was still talking about Raymond.
“Sometimes I just hold him in my arms and tell him God loves him,” she whispered, her eyes tearing. I looked around for who she could be speaking about. Had an old friend of hers just passed us as well? There was no one else around. My neck craned in all directions, and I stared wide-eyed at my new friend, slowly understanding she was still talking about Raymond.
“You do WHAT??” I wondered, horrified.
I quickly composed myself. I mean, I am a Christian, so of course, I – ahem – knew EXACTLY what she was talking about . . . er . . . knew of people who knew exactly what she was talking about . . . er . . . I mean, who doesn’t grab the odd smelly bum we pass on the street and hold them in our arms, crying tears of God’s love for them?
To reassure me, however, I made a mental note to check my “Christian Club Membership Card” when I got home to ensure it hadn’t expired.
Her heart mirrored a tiny piece of the heart of Jesus, and her words seemed to mirror what would have fallen from His lips.
I stared wide-eyed at this new friend.
She was still silently weeping. “I sense such a Spirit of God on him,” she said so quietly it was almost a whisper. I looked back at Raymond, who was walking away from us. He had waved and walked on.
The image of tears of love spilling from her face onto Raymond reminded me of another woman whose tears of love spilled onto Jesus.
Just then a woman of the village . . . came with a bottle of very expensive perfume and stood at [Jesus’] feet, weeping, raining tears on his feet. Letting down her hair, she dried his feet [and] kissed them, and anointed them with the perfume.
We start working on our marriage by successfully applying two nonsense words to our marriages. But you are ready for the blue runs, the intermediate terrain. One blue ski run (or intermediate acronym) for the daring only is:
Click here to continue reading this (previously published) post.
Thanks for reading Restoring Life! Subscribe for free to receive new posts, support my work and so my ego feels important.
Just because the battle of [insert famous battle name here – I’m not a Historian, ok?] was lost, doesn’t mean those soldiers lost the war too!
The same is true in the war that many in our culture are fighting to open our eyes to the reality that climate change is real.
We’ve lost a battle or two, granted.
For example, consider the implementation of climate solutions and the recent US election. I am not a Harris supporter by any stretch of the imagination. (Also, I’m Canadian, so no one cares who I would have voted for. AND, it’s much easier to criticize leaders trying to create positive change than to come up with real solutions that work!)
The point is that we lost another battle in the war against recognizing that climate change is even a “thing” with the election win of Mr. Trump.
But just because climate change has lost another battle, that doesn’t mean we have lost the war in finding a solution to our climate woes – Not by any stretch.
It is time to close the chapter in the book “Let’s talk about climate change rationally, using science.”
Instead, let’s focus on applying and implementing this one solution.
Let’s focus on food.
No, I did not leave my rationale mind over there as I wrote this post over here.
Check out this free movie, Kiss the Ground Film | Official Website
A Hollywood Actor narrates the movie, so that’s how we know it is the truth!
Just kidding – There is LOTS of science here and a growing movement.
“Kiss the Ground is an audience-supported nonprofit promoting regeneration and healthy soil as a viable solution for our wellness, water, and climate crisis. Since 2013, we’ve inspired millions to participate in the Regenerative Movement through storytelling, education and partnerships.”
Oh, and another benefit – when you put less poison in the form of hyper-processed foods into your body and recognize food ITSELF is healing, you’ll probably feel a lot better, too!
There is a movement of people who have started to be accidentally healed of various modern ailments through eating healthier foods, but we’ll talk about that another time.
Oh, and we can avert the climate crisis once this movement snowballs, too, without mentioning the term “climate change.”
The thing is (whisper):
God has a solution to EVERY problem we see in our world.
We have hope! Let’s dance! No problem is too big for our God.
As the song below plays, ask God, “Has my hope been reduced to the size of politics or the problems in my life and our world? Forgive me. Would You help me place my hope in the One who is bigger than every problem?”
“If . . . my people, my God-defined people, respond by humbling themselves, praying, seeking my presence, and turning their backs on their wicked lives, I’ll be there ready for you: I’ll listen from heaven, forgive their sins, and restore their land to health. From now on I’m alert day and night to the prayers offered . . . “
I met her doing something we both loved – a downhill ski trip at University. We became fast friends, singing loudly, goofing off, and obnoxiously yelling at those below as we rode the chairlift that weekend. In the evening, over hot chocolate and quiet talks, there were many similarities in the hurts we had experienced, the focus of our lives, and the path our futures were leading us toward.
It seems God had brought us together and blessed our friendship with a small piece of His love that we could offer each other.
And so the friendship grew.
And then came the bomb
It landed beside the little plant God was nurturing, our friendship. The blast ripped bits of the plant, and oh, the pain! The pain in God’s heart was unbearable, breaking His heart too.
And oh!
How God mourned! He mourned for the future leaves and blossoms and roots that this little plant hadn’t yet had time to grow. He mourned for the hungry people who would come to this little plant looking for the fruit it was to grow to satisfy their hunger pains.
And oh, how the heart of God aches when friendships are spoiled!
We sat nearby, watching, startled at His suffering. Our hearts felt only indignation towards the other. And God tore his shirt, as the ancients did in a time of great mourning, His outer garment reflecting the state of His heart, broken.
Our sin was ripping the little plant apart, threatening its very survival.
Wounded!
“How can I show My love to this world,” He asks sorrowfully, “when My people don’t dwell together in unity? How can those hungry, sick souls taste love when you don’t give and receive it to and from each other?” He rocks back and forth in lament.
“How can My world be beautiful like a garden when the flowers of friendship and love among My people, a people called by My name, do not grow? How can others find their way to My heart by following a path of beauty if no beauty is found among my chosen flowers? How can you live without love?” He pleads
And so we, too, finally catching the Father’s heart in our own, rend our clothes and rock back and forth in the ancient posture of lament.
How have I allowed sin to hold back the growth in the relationships He has gifted me?
And so we run to our lost friend, like the Father of the prodigal son to his lost child.
When he was still a long way off, his father saw [his son]. His heart pounding, he ran out, embraced him, and kissed him.
Together, we friends lift our hearts to God, broken and damaged. We come together, limping and wounded, from the damage we caused each other to our heavenly Father, and we ask for the oil of healing* for us and our friend.
And He is pleased.
The cost of a thing is the amount of what I will call life that is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.
And the plant now mending* and with roots twisting together in love, can face any storm. And the fruit is only a matter of time.
So let’s not allow ourselves to get fatigued doing good. At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don’t give up, or quit. Right now, therefore, every time we get the chance, let us work for the benefit of all, starting with the people closest to us in the community of faith.
When we were newly married, my husband left his shoes on the floor instead of the shoe rack, and I tripped on them.
When I tripped on them again, I politely asked him not to do this anymore.
Then I cried and hoped tears would implore him to put his shoes away after taking them off, a life lesson that was perhaps taught on a day he was absent from Kindergarten, so he never learned, even 45 years later.
Manipulative, imploring tears didn’t work either.
I tried anger, and nope – Nothing.
It looks like this one bad habit came WITH my husband, and so we fudged along, as couples who have been married for a long time do, until even this habit became “cute.”
Until it wasn’t.
After I broke my ankle, and for some reason, the “leaving shoes/ slippers” in the middle of where I am walking seemed to get a steroid hit. I found myself tripping over my husband’s shoes multiple times a day. So, I did the only rational thing a rational person WOULD do in this situation!
I began throwing his shoes outside.
However, this wasn’t the magic bean solution I had hoped for.
(Did I mention that I offer marriage advice as well?*)
And why, you are asking, are you airing your dirty shoe laundry ALL OVER the internet? Good question. It’s because of what happened next.
I poured out my poor, misunderstood heart (She didn’t QUITE have those words to describe me, though – Why not?) to a friend.
And she’s a great friend.
The kind who may even kick you in the rear once or twice, and your life often starts looking up after the pain.
Here is what she said the following week, “Lori, I’ve finally figured out the solution to your shoe problem!” she began excitedly.
We found a quieter corner of the church so she could impart her wisdom.
“Every time you stoop to pick up shoes and put them on the shoe rack, this is an opportunity for you!”
“Huh?” I asked, confused, remembering how my blood boils in righteous indignation at the sight of misplaced shoes.
“Yes,” she continued. “You can pray for where his feet go, and that the souls of his walking will be soft, and that God will lead his feet to travel wherever He wills for him and . . .” She was gushing now. “And I’ve calculated how long this will take you. It will be about 3 minutes of your day.”
She was right, of course.
And after the bruise on my butt heals where she kicked me, I think things are looking up in our marriage, too!
She gave me some INCREDIBLE, UNIQUE advice I could NEVER have figured out on my own!
And that’s why we need a community that loves us.
Because after the pain comes the healing.
If you reason with an arrogant cynic, you’ll get slapped in the face; confront bad behavior and get a kick in the shins. So don’t waste your time on a scoffer . . . Save your breath for the wise—they’ll be wiser for it.
Recent update on this situation: After this conversation with my friend, I asked God what to do about this situation. (Novel idea!) I envisioned my husband and I discussing this situation over a glass of wine, dinner, and a date.
On the date, he saw things in a new light – It seems my rational mouth spoke more forcefully than throwing his stuff outside.
The following week, he said, “Darn! I didn’t put my shoes away!” and ran to get them before I got to the front door.
“Darn! I lost my opportunity to pray for your feet!” I said, watching him put away his shoes instead of me.
God’s way is better. God is good. To Him be praised.
(And let’s thank God for a whack from a friend, too.)
Need a whack?
Reach out anytime!
You’re welcome!
Good luck!
Footnotes
*More marriage advice is coming in tomorrow’s post!
Thanks for reading Restoring Life! Subscribe for free to receive new posts, support my work, and so my ego feels important!
I know why you couldn’t sleep last night, tossing and turning.
I know why you are looking at me wide-eyed and wondering how you can live your life authentically.
I didn’t publish a blog post last Friday like I usually do, and THEREFORE, your normal rhythms for coping through life have been disrupted because I didn’t tell you how to live your life this weekend!
But first, I will explain why I didn’t write a blog post.
It was because I was busy. What was I doing? Remember in this blog post when I mentioned that our Pastor is a crazy nutcase because he travels to politically volatile places?
The places he visits for a fun vacation are some of the poorest countries on earth, riddled with civil war, genocide and other stuff we don’t like to think about because we need to get to Walmart and back before the ball game starts and if we think about other stuff, we may forget to buy all the snacks we need for the game. We all have a lot of things going on and to think about already – Thank you very much!
Anyway, while we were busy cleaning out our garage last week, I suddenly thought, “Why not join our Pastor on one of these trips to an unstable country?”
So, that’s why I didn’t write a blog post. Our Pastors had to talk me off the window ledge of my fear to jump into the unknown*. Should we go to the place where the worst day there is EVEN WORSE than my worst day, for example?
When I researched one of these countries, it seemed EVEN MORE DANGEROUS than our family vacation to Disneyland last year!
During that vacation, we got stranded in a shady area of Los Angeles, and no Ubers came because it was the night of the Oscars and they were busy driving celebrities. Luckily, an LA city bus driver held the bus and waited for us for 20 minutes until we could connect with another ride because the bus driver didn’t want us left alone there (How sweet!). So don’t worry, Mom! (She reads this blog.)
And so, what is the simple life hack to losing fear?
Find someone who is doing something stupid, and mindlessly follow them!
Since you are doing something scary, you no longer have to fear your fear!
So, our motto this weekend is:
Do what you fear, and the death of fear is certain!
Another helpful thought for you to mull over as you continue to ponder this topic of losing fear is to consider the second reason why I didn’t write a blog post this weekend. It was because I spent many hours binge-watching a new historical period drama this weekend. So, another motto for this weekend is:
Distract yourself with online entertainment so you don’t have to think about how to live well!
Choose your motto with whichever one fits best, and remember to read every blog post so I can help you live your life more authentically!
P.S. – There’s probably a third motto for how to shake fear and live authentically, but I haven’t figured that one out yet.
You’re welcome!
Good luck!
Footnotes
*There is not civil war in that country right now, as there was when these events happened to Chrissy Chapman, so it’s likely not quite as unsafe as I’m pretending it is, but stay with me for the emotional effects of this blogpost that I’m trying to create.
Thanks for reading Restoring Life! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
Restoring Life 