Tag Archives: Faith

What Changes When You Hope in a Sure Thing

(“What Changes When You Hope in a Sure Thing” originally appeared as a guest post on http://ryanhuguley.com.)

crossed fingersIf you’re not a college basketball fan, “March Madness” may have seemed straight up nuts to you. And you know what? Maybe it was. I’ll admit I was one of those crazy fans hoping against hope that my team would win the tournament.  It didn’t turn out that way, but it was fun to follow the games and root for my alma mater.

But let’s be honest: my “hope” was little more than a kind of wishful thinking. I had absolutely no control over the outcome, no matter how much I wanted to see my team prevail. I could hope for it all day long but that had no impact on how things ended up.

Basketball is one thing, but many of us approach life that way. Continue reading What Changes When You Hope in a Sure Thing

A Costly Lesson About Closed Doors

IMG_3405This past week I was looking for something in a closet and came across a box of old handwritten letters. They were still in their original envelopes, held together with rotted rubber bands. I pulled them out and the next thing I knew, I had lost an entire afternoon.

What a kick to read stories from my then-25 year old sister gushing about the new job she had come to love. To revisit my mother’s fretting over her upcoming nursing board exams and hear again, at the end of every letter, how much she loved me. Priceless.

There was my Dad, telling about a fire in the building next door to the church, so hot it melted the plastic curtains in one of the Sunday School rooms and Continue reading A Costly Lesson About Closed Doors

They Called Me “Little Ernie”

 

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Ernestine

Growing up, we always spent our summer vacations with my mother’s extended family in South Carolina. We would head north in our un-airconditioned car from Key West, the three of us kids squabbling in the backseat, my mother constantly trying to keep us from killing each other, and my dad at the wheel, clinching his jaw and patiently pressing on.

After an overnight stay with my paternal grandmother in North Florida, we would roll in to Spartanburg the next day to spend a week or so with aunts, uncles, and cousins – interesting characters that fascinate me even now: the snuff-dipping aunt and her ubiquitous spit cup, the uncle who sang “shaped notes” with the men’s quartet and insisted there was a goat under the house, the eccentric aunt who pretended to read palms, and the gruff uncle who we thought was the luckiest man on the planet because he had a plow horse named Molly.

One of my ancient aunts measured how much we loved her by the volume of food we could stuff in our faces at meal time: “Eat! Eat!” (Those of you from the South will recognize that as a specific love language.) I once ate an entire cantaloupe at lunch just to please her.

I was thrilled when one Sunday, some of the older aunts and second cousins pulled out pictures of my mother as a girl about the age I was at that time. In a flurry of excitement, they declared that I looked “just like her” when she was young and they dubbed me “Little Ernie”. (My mother’s name – which I don’t think she ever liked – was Ernestine.) Continue reading They Called Me “Little Ernie”

If I Knew Then What I Know Now

blueprintI was the single parent of a first-grader when I decided to have an addition put on my house. I had no idea what I was getting myself into; I only knew I needed more space and an upstairs bathroom in this tiny Cape Cod.

I’ll never forget the Saturday morning my little daughter came into my room to tell me, “Mommy, there are some men at the door to work on our house. I think they’re speaking Italian.” I told her I’d be right there to let them in, to which she responded, “Oh, I already did.”

Thankfully, they were the plumbers my general contractor had sent, not some nefarious scam artists prowling the neighborhood. By the time I got into the kitchen they were unloading their tools and already (presumably) discussing their strategy for upgrading my ancient pipes to accommodate the new plumbing – in Polish, not Italian, by the way.

The remodeling project went on for months. And truthfully? I thought I would lose my mind. I hadn’t realized the disruption it would cause. I never expected to have to make so many decisions about things I knew nothing about. And frankly, I had no idea how much it was going to end up costing by the end.

Yep, I was pretty naive to take that project on.

In the end I was glad I had done it, but I’ll be honest with you: If I had known what I was getting myself into, I seriously doubt I would have attempted it.  

As I was walking my dog in the neighborhood recently, I was reflecting on that experience and the whole if I had it to do over again part. Then a sobering thought came to me, Continue reading If I Knew Then What I Know Now

What I Learned from a Flat-Footed Preacher

Jesus has been called the master storyteller, and with good reason. His parables were compelling and oh-so-relatable. His illustrations from daily life immediately drew people in.

I always imagined He must have used humor and dramatic flourishes when He was telling His stories. Sometimes I even pictured Him singing parts of the lesson.

Think about it. The people were so enthralled, they crowded around Him constantly to hear more. Would they have done that for a dry lecture in the hot sun, surrounded by other sweaty humans? I didn’t think so.

And then I went to Alaska.

breaching whaleIt’s been some years now since my daughter and I took this trip. We joined my parents for a cruise organized by our denomination down the Inside Passage from Seward to Ketchikan. The scenery was spectacular, of course, and the weather unseasonably perfect.

Frankly, as I stood on the deck of the ship, I fully expected to see Jesus return at any moment through those amazing cloud formations.

Yet there was another aspect of that week-long cruise that stunned and delighted me even more than my surroundings. Continue reading What I Learned from a Flat-Footed Preacher

I hope you have friends like this

I’m guest-posting at ryanhuguley.com today. Please join me there to read “Seven Marks of Authentic Friendship” in its entirety.

Paulette and I share a unique history that goes back 30 years. Time and distance conspire now to keep us apart but when we connect, even though it necessarily involves airplanes and major schedule adjustments, it’s always worth it.

She and I chose a career in Federal law enforcement at a time when earning the respect of our peers in a male-dominated profession meant embracing an over-the-top work ethic and developing a very “thick hide”. That experience cultivated a unique bond, in and of itself.

We were pregnant together and shared the unique travails reserved for expectant mothers in that kind of job. We raised our children in a world we viewed through a particular lens of danger and did our best to make their lives “normal”.

Early on in our friendship, we discovered we had more than just our careers in common.

Click here to read the rest of this post.

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Breathing Jesus

sad man on beachI have several, shall we say, complicated relationships in my life. The identities and details aren’t important here but my struggle to resolve friction and find peace with them, is.

Relational meltdowns leave me reeling. As weird as it may sound, I experience what I imagine suffocation would feel like: desperation turning to panic, then helplessness, hopelessness, and finally, defeat. I know, how dramatic. But perhaps you can relate on some level. Continue reading Breathing Jesus

What Christians of “A Certain Age” Should Never Do

middle age mosaic-takomabibelotLast May I joined a vibrant, growing church in the Chicago suburbs, one very different from the mega-church I had served in for the prior 25 years.

The pastoral staff at my new church is young (by that I mean, the lead pastor is in his early 30s, and he’s the oldest of the bunch). They are all filled with passion, energy, and Godly wisdom that inspires me every time I interact with them. Theirs is the generation taking the Church into the next grand chapter and it’s crazy exciting to be a part of it.

For people like me, who’ve served in the church for most of our lives, there’s a bit of risk here. Continue reading What Christians of “A Certain Age” Should Never Do

It’s Not a Gift If You Have to Pay For It

Maybe it’s because we’ve just celebrated Christmas that I’ve been thinking about gifts. I wonder, why do we do that? What is it that inspires humans to give things to each other?

Gift definitionBack in the 80’s, a friend of mine married into an affluent family. As a wedding gift, her in-laws said they wanted to spring for bedroom furniture for her and her new husband.

The happy couple was elated; they went out shopping and found a great deal on a lovely walnut set: a dresser, chest and two end tables. It was perfect for their small rented apartment and they were beyond pleased.

There was just one problem: it wasn’t what my friend’s new mother-in-law had in mind and she was quick to tell them so. Continue reading It’s Not a Gift If You Have to Pay For It

Five good things about being sick at Christmas

cardinal20130222_162bzzbTo set the stage, I’ve just returned from a two week trip to South Korea and I’m seriously jet lagged.

I have a miserable cold and it’s December 21. Christmas is in four days and I’ve written not the first Christmas card nor done one bit of Christmas shopping or decorating.

The weather is about to turn ugly (again). There’s a winter weather advisory in effect today and bitter cold is said to be heading our way.

But I am so grateful. And I can think of at least five reasons why. Continue reading Five good things about being sick at Christmas