A Matter of Perspective

The end of last week, the deputy who lives in our neighborhood stopped to tell us that, really, we should be walking on the other side of the street, against the traffic.  Today was the first day I tried it.

It is amazing what a difference ten or fifteen feet makes!

Hmm, that birds' egg blue trim is brighter than I thought it was.

Wow!  Those flower beds really look great!

Yuck!  That pothole sure is deep.

I saw new things, spoke to new people, on the "other" side.

It's all a matter of perspective.

Isn't all life like that...a matter of perspective?

Sometimes I need to look at things more closely to see what is really going on.

Why did he hit is brother?  Was it a ploy for attention...or some deeper issue?

Why am I feeling so out-of-sorts?  Do I need to take more me-time?

A new perspective can make a world of difference in the way I view my circumstances.  The things that bug me become small potatoes; the things I need to put more attention into come into focus.

All depending on how I look at them.

And the best perspective of all is...on my knees.

My days can be fraught with stress and confusion...and I have no human sounding board to help put me back into perspective.  That is when...especially...I need to turn to God to give me the perspective I need.  His is always perfect.

And I learned something else as well today.

Walking in this new way this morning, I had to keep reminding myself to cross the street.  I had to be diligent to avoid the old patterns.  I had to keep focusing on what was new and different, what new things I was seeing instead of the familiar, the old way.

How like me in my walk as well!  Keeping my eyes focused on the positive...on my Savior...makes all the difference.

Therefore, with minds that are alert and fully sober, set your hope on the grace to be brought to you when Jesus Christ is revealed at his coming. -- 1 Peter 1:13

Walking Buddies

I am the analogy girl.  I see analogies in everything in life.  You may have guessed that.

Many of them lately come from my daily walks around the neighborhood.  Somehow it always relates to my "daily walk."

That's really pretty awesome, when you think about it.

I have some great walking buddies--two regulars and a sometimes addition.  Each of these precious women adds much to my life.  We have a great time walking and talking...often talking about heart-and-soul matters, sometimes praying together.

They are a tremendous blessing from God--all three of them.

Some days, though, the circumstances and busy-ness of life has me walking alone.

It is not bad to walk alone.  I am often quiet, listening to God.  And looking...always looking...for Him to speak through His creation to this analogy girl.

A morning last week was beautiful and balmy, with a breeze blowing (I also like alliteration).  I walked along, greeting the day and the others I normally see on the way (it's amazing how quickly we have fallen into the pattern of being part of the morning in our neighborhood).

I listened to the birds and felt the wind in my face...and talked to my Father.

Much of my lifewalk is a parallel to my 2.5 morning miles.

Sometimes I walk in community, and sometimes I face things without an earthy companion.  (Well, always without my favorite earthly companion...nearly 5 years now.)  Regardless, God walks by my side, guiding my steps, listening to my diatribes and my praises, supporting me and correcting me as I need it.

I am thankful for all my walking buddies--the morning ladies...and all who have made this widow walk so much easier.  I am thankful for the beautiful fall days, my neighborhood, my freedom.  I am thankful for God's constant intervention in my soul to point out the good in my world...and to cleanse the yucky parts to shining white. 

My morning walk is uphill in places, just as is my lifewalk.  Regardless, I know I am never truly alone, never facing things alone, regardless of the circumstances.

And that is a lot to be thankful for.

Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens.  -- Psalm 68:19

Daddy's Girl

There is a dad whom we see every morning walking whom we find intriguing.  He walks his middle school-age daughter to the bus stop each morning and waits with her for the bus.  Then he walks back to the house and drives off to work. 

I must admit that he has caused us to speculate.  Is there potential for trouble at the bus stop?  Is she a problem?  Has he a need to ride the bus?  All idle speculation, but I think born of a desire to understand, not gossip.

After watching him since the start of school, I have come to the realization that he is just a dad who loves his daughter.  He loves her enough to eke out each moment he can with her in the mornings, not letting his schedule get in the way of his love.  And that is beautiful!

Almost even cooler is the fact that she doesn't seem to mind.  She seems to enjoy her moments with her dad just as much, not copping a preteen attitude or acting embarrassed.  The mark of a close daddy-daughter relationship.  And that is beautiful, too!

I have a great dad.  I don't tell him enough, but I really do (yes, I am sending him this blog).  He is strong and brave and has had my heart from the time I was a little girl. 

He is the type of dad who would walk me to the bus stop, I am sure of it.

My dad has been my number one fan since I was a little girl, accepting me as a bright and capable person, and encouraging me to reach for the stars.  He has always been fun and funny, a fact that my children now appreciate as well. 

In fact, my dad is so wonderful that when I married Keith, I looked for qualities that were like my dad...decisive, bright, dedicated to family, loving and caring.

Because of a good relationship with my earthly father, it was easy to develop a relationship with my Heavenly Father.  And that has been crucial in this widow's walk.

From the beginning of this journey, I have crawled up in Daddy-God's lap, much like I climbed up in my daddy's lap, accepting His love and support, His direction in my life, His love and acceptance...much as I have always accepted these things from my daddy. 

That is a beautiful and special place to be all around.

And I cannot imagine my life without either one of them.

Praise be to the Lord God, the God of Israel, who alone does marvelous deeds.  Praise be to His glorious name forever; may the whole earth be filled with His glory.  Amen and Amen.  -- Psalm 72:18-19

Of Course I Will!

My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness.

I dare not trust the sweetest frame but wholly lean on Jesus' name.

It has been one of those days.

I woke up with a headache.  I cried at the breakfast table because I felt unappreciated by my children.  I cried on my walk because Keith was not here.  He (usually) knew how to make me feel better when I was in one of these moods.

I walked along, tears flowing...whining to God (gotta be honest here).

I knew I was about to reach where Renee stands in the morning, waiting for the school bus with her charge.  I met Renee walking but found out she attends the same Wednesday night service I do.  I dried my tears and smiled.

"Good morning, Renee!"

"Hi, Liz.  How are you this morning?"

"Fine, thanks!  How about you?"

"Good, thanks."

"Great!  Have a good day!"

And I walked a few more steps.

Then God spoke to me in my spirit.  Nope.  Own in.  Go back.  Tell her.

So, swallowing my pride, I broke stride from my walking and went back.

"Actually, that's not entirely true.  I am having one of those mornings.  Will you please pray for me?"

With a big hug, Renee said, "Bless your heart!  Of course I will!"

And I walked on, feeling better.  Provision!

I could now hear the birds singing.  I even found a quarter...that will go in the missions box the boys and I are currently filling.  I smiled at the others I normally see and speak to on my walk.  My world had tilted back in the right direction.

My morning was just some of life's "light and momentary troubles" (2 Corinthians 4:17).  They happen to us all.  Jesus promised they would.

I am thankful for a God who is gracious enough to put people in my path (literally) for the times when I need them.  And I am thankful that He knows I sometimes need that extra little push to take what He has so graciously given to me.  Sometimes, it is just a matter of me looking beyond myself  As I reflected on this, I could see many blessings in my life, things that had been hidden from me as my thoughts circled myself instead of the bigger picture.

At the end of my walk today, I ran into my sometimes-walking-buddie Carol.  We greeted each other and she asked how I was.  And I could honestly tell her that I am doing...OK.

Praise God!

In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.  -- John 16:33

Crows vs. Hawks

On my daily walk the other day, I heard...long before I saw...a murder of crows harassing a hawk.  (Yes, I looked that up.  That is what you call them.  Word lesson for today completed.)

Oh, they were really giving it to him--circling round and round, cawing away.  He gave them  a couple of shrill cries in return, but they were really dominating.

As I watched the exchange, I realized that I could see myself in that scene.  And sometimes I am the crows...and sometimes I am the hawk.

I can be a fuss-er.  I sometimes get focused on something and worry it to pieces.  Whether it is finances, or boy behavior, or the cleanliness of my house (or lack thereof), I get hold of an idea and won't let go.  Like the crows, I fuss and fume.  I try to bully the ideas, pushing and shoving them into what I think they should look like. I continue the harassment, regardless of the facts, and God's plan...seeing threats where there probably aren't any.  Sometimes I even find my own "murder" to fuss with me.

Sometimes, however, in my better moments, I'd like to think I am the hawk.

Sometimes I doggedly maintain my God-directed course, taking the attacks as they come, and maintaining my place in the sky, like this hawk was.  I don't see the harassment and obstacles--whatever form they may take--but stay the course.  When the opportunity presents itself, I, like the hawk, cry out my side of the story, but from a position of calm statement, not from a position of stressed excitement.  This hawk calmly held his position, and so do I--or at least I try.

So why am I not able to be more hawk-like all the time?  Why do I take that drift toward the stressful group-think of a murder of crows, seeing threats everywhere, real and imagined?

Usually it is because I have taken my eyes off the Ruler of the Skies...if I may be so bold as to give Him a name like that.

I get freaked out and stirred up when I don't spend enough time with the Lord...in prayer, reading His Word, seeing things from His perspective.

I also get in a tizzy when I choose to be around the murder instead of alone with the Lord.  Oh, I am not discounting the value of good friends...not by any means!  But we all need to be careful of miserable comforters.  Time alone with the Lord can get me soaring again instead of squawking.

May I find those moments today!

Though youths grow weary and tired, and vigorous young men stumble badly, yet those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary. -- Isaiah 40:31-32 (NASB)

The Importance of Being

I have a dear friend walking her days with a very serious illness.  No one but God knows what the outcome will be.

Sitting with her this week, she had a lot of questions for me...about Keith's last months and days.  She is exploring and preparing for what may be. 

I knew the questions were coming.  I knew she was thinking.  I was blessed to be able to share.  Keith would approve, too.  He loved this dear woman, too. 

The talk went fairly smoothly...not too many tears from either of us.  I told her some things that the average person does not know about that last day...some even my family does not know.  That day was hard, personal, and very private in some ways.

This dear, sweet, Christian lady told me again and again that she is not sure what she is supposed to do.  She said she keeps asking God, but is just not sure what to do.  I gave her some answer, but felt there was more to say.

I have thought about that statement all week and have come to some conclusions, which I am sharing with you all...and with her.

Sometimes being is enough.

We are go-getters, especially as Americans, I think.  We feel that we need to be doing, acting all the time.  I think part of it comes from all the opportunities we have here...constant entertainment, work, activities for ourselves and our families.

It is hard for us to be still and know that He is God.  But sometimes that is all we can do.

Be still.  Know.

This precious lady is in the palm of God's hand.  He has her.  He has this illness.  He will heal her -- this side of Heaven or that.  In that she can rest and just be.

She can be other things, too, even from her sick bed:  wife, mother, grandmother, friend, sister.

The bottom line is that none of us is guaranteed tomorrow.  None. 

I have a couple dear friends who lost their spouses in the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan.  They had more of an inkling, perhaps, that something could happen.  I have other friends whose spouses took some sort of a trip (fishing or to the dump) and never came back.  Others faced longer sickness, multiple tests, lingering, and finally failing, hope of healing here on earth.

That is life here.  Death happens.  To some sooner than others.  To some with more warning than others.  To all eventually.

We all face the life-and-death questions that this sweet sister faces, whether we realize it or not.

This is not scary...or shouldn't be.  God's got it.  He is in control.  His Word says that again and again.

And sometimes all we can do is be...and the most important thing we can be is His child.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. - Jeremiah 29:11