And the broom stood on end with the egg

 I am sure there are some meaningful lessons that can be drawn on this day of “balance” between light and darkness, (certainly no such thing spiritually), but I don’t want to go there right now. 

No, what I want to do is go to the kitchen and see if one of my farmland’s best eggs will live up to its mythological potential and stand on its end in celebration of the spring equinox.

At first I didn’t seem to have a balanced egg in the bunch that would cooperate, but after several attempts, I found the secret to success over at Bad Astronomy .

 Of course, one thing led to another and before I knew it, I succumbed to the temptation to stand the broom, even though it’s angled, mind you, on end also. There they stood in a kind of “and the dish ran away with the spoon,” sort of moment. I left them there, side by side, for my skeptical husband to find when he came in. 

Although this March day here in South Carolina isn’t particularly bursting with springiness, it is a far cry from the many dreary March days I spent in the Northeast. In fact, I take a moment to send encouragement to my friends there—friends still shoveling snow and gasping for sunshine. Today! All is equal—light and dark, and better news yet, tomorrow light gains its edge.

But all this talk of light and dark is stirring up ideas that I don’t want to explore right now, so I am simply going to suggest you hop on over to NOAA  and see a great satellite shot of this beautiful Earth at equinox.  And then go stand an egg!

Bless the LORD, O my soul! O LORD my God, you are very great! You are clothed with splendor and majesty, covering yourself with light as a garment, stretching out the heavens like a tent.

Bless the LORD, friends.

Marcia

Climbing and Chasing after God

 Zacchaeus, that short, little tax collector who greased his pockets with other people’s money, is most known for hanging from a sycamore tree in order to get a look at Jesus. Probably any kid with a bit of Sunday School under his belt could tell you that.

 I almost passed over his story to get on to meatier matters this morning, but the Holy Spirited backed me up to verse three in Luke’s account:  “And he was seeking to see who Jesus was . . . . ‘’

Wait. Zacchaeus was more than a curious spectator. And God was already at work in his heart. Even though he was still collecting and keeping undeserved money, even though he probably spent it on his own lavish lifestyle, even though to all outward appearances he probably didn’t look like a “seeker,” Zacchaeus had an unswerving determination to see who Jesus was.

Imagine the abandon that drove a pompous, wealthy man scrambling to climb a tree in time to catch Jesus pass by.I suspect Zacchaeus worried he might miss his opportunity. Circumstances weren’t favorable. The crowd was thick. He was too short to get a view.

The beauty is that I don’t think he could have missed Jesus. Jesus already knew Zacchaeus’s heart and that he was seeking. He wasn’t surprised or curious about why Zacchaeus was in tree because He already knew their paths would intersect in a divinely appointed meeting. How comforting is that!

I think we strive, and fret, and fear we will miss that glimpse of the Lord we seek. Or we worry that someone we love who doesn’t know the Lord but earnestly desires truth, will miss Him. But Jesus assures, “Seek, and you will find” (Matthew 7:7). 

Pant after God, yes, but don’t despair that He won’t find you up there in a tree.

I need those reassurances sometimes. When I am frustrated with a loved one’s struggle to know truth. Or when I worry that what I have, think, feel, do, am is not enough. When I forget He knows the longing in my heart and has already appointed divine intersections. Has already provided those glimpses of grace that elude me.

Zacchaeus’s desire to see Jesus leads right into Bible study I received for review. Chase is about chasing after God above every other thing. Originally I thought I’d do a post about it, along with an interview with the author, Jennie Allen from the big state of Texas. But as I watched the short DVD segment for the introductory lesson and worked through the first lesson, I realized Jennie’s heart for God and for other women has captured beautifully and simply the longings of my own heart, and, I suspect, yours as well.

My next week’s post was going to be on identity crisis, which, I was surprised to discover, is also the first lesson in Chase. (Although a bit of different approach!) So, instead of one review post of Chase, I have decided to incorporate bits of Jennie’s heart and wisdom into my blogs for the next couple of  Mondays as I share nuggets from this study.

I hope you will join me because, “After chasing everything the world has to offer, nothing is more satisfying than God.”—Jennie Allen, Chase.

Thank you for taking time to stop by. I pray you will be delighted by glimpses of God’s lavish love this week as we turn our faces toward that Time that changed everything.

Marcia

photo courtesy of  Kozzi

When you want to blow a trumpet but are handed a lamb

On the second morning of my father-in-law’s arrival, when I set his bowl of oatmeal in front of him, he clapped his hands and proclaimed he’d hit the jackpot. Seems he doesn’t miss having to take of himself very much, after all.

He’s low maintenance, really. Content to sit surrounded by the dogs and work on crosswords by day and watch Turner Classic Movies by night. The physical adjustments for us are not difficult, but the mental ones are dangling like disconnected wires. Just knowing there is someone in the other room who may need me for something, makes it hard to focus on the things I usually do.

I feel as though I have fallen through a funnel and am reduced to a very narrow realm—the care of one.

 Being a person of restlessness who always looks for something more, something greater, this “reduction” goes against my personality and rattles my privileged sense of independence, even though I long to do it well. And yet is it so small a thing to do?

I was reminded of the importance of the “one” during quiet time this morning.There are two clay angels on my mantle—one blowing a trumpet, the other holding a lamb. The trumpet angel is my favorite. It speaks of action, of proclamation, power, and things to come.

But it was the lamb-holding angel that drew my attention. I was trying to fathom the rejoicing in heaven over one who repents, as related by Luke in the parable of the lost sheep. Following that parable is one about a woman who rejoices over a coin that had been lost. We are told, likewise, “There is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”  

Imagine all that fuss about one.

Such is the heart of God.

May it be my heart. 

My father-in-law’s parents were Jews from Russ Poland. Although he is not a religious Jew, he has never had anything to do with Jesus. Reluctantly, he used to tolerate our saying grace before meals, but last night, he teared up during grace in Jesus’ name and burst out with a hearty “Amen.”

To care for an elderly parent is simply “life.” But if I get to be a small part of God’s heart toward one during his last earth time, it is eternal reward.

I pray there will be rejoicing in heaven over this one lost lamb, Lord Jesus.

 “I long to accomplish a great and noble task but it is my chief duty to accomplish small tasks as if they were great and noble.”—Helen Keller

You Know It’s Time for Time Out When

You throw a handful of cranberries in your Egg Beaters, thinking you’ve grabbed the feta. You put the peanut butter in the freezer and the frozen yogurt in the cupboard. The dog has a mini seizure and freezes in the middle of the room you’ve rearranged. You have a mini seizure and freeze in the middle of the room you’ve rearranged.

Time for time out.

Even though the bottom drawer of the island is jutting out halfway across the kitchen because something fell behind it and the only way to fix it is to take all the stuff out, figure out how to release the track and get the drawer out, retrieve the stuck item, put the drawer back and then put all the stuff back, your anal-order trigger doesn’t even twitch because it’s just One More Thing Too Much.

That’s when you know it’s time for time out. And that’s what’s happening here this morning.

In a couple of days my husband will return home from wrapping up his father’s life in Florida. He will bring his father to live with us. We had always told Pa of course he was welcome but when the decision actually came, it came quickly.

Just five days ago, I had a comfy downstairs bedroom with bath, an office with a recliner, and a simple, comfortable living room. I seldom went upstairs where my daughter has a room and small bath and adjoining single-bed guest room.

Today, my bedroom is outfitted (with the recliner) for my father-in-law, my office has temporarily (?) become a bedroom, which we will use until we are sure Pa isn’t wandering around the house at night, and I don’t know what to do about the bathroom—share the little one upstairs? creep into the big one in the master bedroom and hope I don’t wake Dad? or keep a travel basket of toiletries in the half-bath so I can at least brush my teeth until he wakes up?

So many things to think about! I suspect if my ancestry was traced back, I’d find I belonged to the Tribe of Overthinkers. I even arranged Pa’s bed so he could get out the same side he has for decades!

But it wasn’t until I began upheaving our order that I realized it wasn’t so much the different room arrangements that were difficult to change as it was the habits that we have patterned into the spaces of them.

The dog was the first to reflect this.

I didn’t notice how stressful the commotion of furniture coming and going was, or strangers traipsing through to rewire the cable hook ups. I didn’t realize how much she missed Bob and the quiet early morning time they spent together in the recliner –she with her bone, he with his Bible.

I didn’t see the signs of her stress until she froze, unfocused in the middle of the room where her recliner used to be. She didn’t even move when I called her name. Then, I knew. It was time for time out.

I gathered her up and went into Pa’s room. We sat in the recliner and wrapped in a blanket. The simplest of prayers, “Lord.”

The simplest of responses, “O, Martha, Martha, take time out to remember the important: Be patient with change and hold your habits loosely, let love reign over order, and rest over raggy wretchedness.”

 I thought of the Proverb that says, Better is a little with the fear of the Lord than great treasure with turmoil. And another—Better a dish of vegetables than a feast with strife (My paraphrased version).

Laila and I fall asleep.

Yes. He restores my soul.

Dear friend, thank you for stopping by. If you are overwhelmed by a change, I pray the Lord deeply refresh you and give you peace in knowing to everything there is a season—even for time outs.

Marcia