DIVINE INSPIRATION

Laughter is my favorite sound. Laughing so hard I start crying is my favorite emotion. Comedy is my favorite genre of anything. And how blessed I am that our Heavenly Father has an infinite sense of humor and that He loves a good laugh too.
It's taken me a long time to realize that I can use humor (God's perfect gift to me) to glorify Him. I didn't think funny and church went together; it seemed inappropriate. But rather than suppressing it, I started using it and apparently it's okay to laugh in church and most folks seem to respond pretty well to a good, hearty chuckle. I have found that when I can't do anything else - I can somehow be funny. So anyway, this weekend I have a smattering of everything I love coming together and I'm tickled to death about it. I'm teaming up with one of my favorite people in the world to be part of an event that helps raise money to send folks on summer mission trips. My partner in this, let's call her Teresa, cause that's her name, just returned from a mission to Mexico where she distributed Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes to Mayan children. You can just tell she ain't the same since she got back; she's forever changed because of her experience. Teresa's sharing her mission through her testimony and music. And I guess in itself that seems pretty swell, but I have found that when Teresa and I team up on something - I just feel better.

You become close and dependent on people you're in ministry with; there's a bond there that's just different because Christ is smack dab in the middle of it. I'm sooooo lucky to have that bond with three folks I've been in ministry with (Shout outs to Beth Ann and Tom J.!) Weird. I was going to do this whole blog on being funny and somehow I end up talking about these three incredible people I'm so fortunate to call friends. They've kept me floating here lately and Lord knows I've been in the deep end. Funny how that happened ...

There is hope for the future because God
has a sense of humor and we are funny to God.

- Bill Cosby

AMEN. AMEN. AMEN.

It's been a while since I worshipped. That sounds weird 'cause I'm at church all the time and I'm "involved" in worship services most every Sunday. But sometimes you just need to hear a message that inspires you to seek understanding in Godly things. I've been in a bit of a spiritual slump lately; letting outside influences chisel away the presence of my holiness. Working "in" ministry sometimes makes it tough for me to make strides in my own spiritual journey 'cause I get so dang caught up in making sure everyone else is trying to take steps. It's kind of weird. It's so easy to slide into lethargy and go through the motions without even realizing it. But today I was in the presence of a speaker who was passionate and genuine and who spoke words that I needed to hear in a way that I needed to hear them. Vickie Sigmon is a missionary who guested at our pulpit today. She believes what she says and it comes through when she speaks. She began her message by turning towards the cross and saying, "Jesus, keep me BEHIND the cross. Don't let me get in the way of your message." I scribbled it down in my notebook that I carry around 'cause it made such a huge impression on me. "Don't let me get in the way." And then what followed .... we get so busy marching forward in the Jesus parade that we forget to look beside and behind us. We refuse to let ourselves be interrupted by the least, the last and the lost while we're focused on what Jesus "needs" from us. You'd NEVER think that, but to hear it uttered, you realize that, yeah, it happens. Open the eyes of my HEART, Lord. It was a trifecta of scripture, message and a call to act. It left an impression. The prayer I throw up tonight is one of gratitude -- "Jesus, keep me BEHIND the cross. Run over me with your message." Thanks Vickie. It was amazing.

God loves us the way we are,
but too much to leave us that way.

- - Leigton Ford

Morning Joe ... Good for the Soul

I've had to deal with some unpleasant issues during the last week or so. It ain't over yet. A reminder, I suppose, that what goes up must come down. It's okay ... stuff happens that's unpleasant. To borrow a quote from my lyrical hero, Jimmy Buffett, "Breathe in. Breathe out. Move on." Thanks Jimmy.

So this morning after I took Max to school I came back to a cluttered house and some pretty impressive stacks of dirty laundry. But then there was this delighted squeal from the Exersaucer and I could've cared less about the laundry or the clutter. Joe's almost 6 months old now and he's ALWAYS happy. Yes, I know, it'll pass. So I sat down beside him and we played a mean game of Peek-a-boo. We rattled and bounced and reached and drooled and I gotta tell ya, it was nice just to "be." Looking at that toothless grinning baby boy lit me up. There's no great lesson here about the simplicity of childhood. I have no insight about happy babies. I just needed a few minutes to not have to worry about my next thought or conversation and I thoroughly enjoyed my morning Joe. 'Nuf said.

"A babe in the house is a well-spring of pleasure,
a messenger of peace and love,
a resting place for innocence on earth,
a link between angels and men."

- Martin Fraquhar Tupper

DUCK! It's Hittin' the Fan!

Just back off and let me rant and rave and stomp the crud out my proverbial soap box. Seriously, there's nothing to see here.

I feel like roadkill.

I took a load of teenagers on a youth ski trip this past weekend. I seem to run towards that sort of thing while other people see it as martyrdom and just plain crazy. Maybe. But weekends like that always sprout new inside jokes, stories that will be retold so many times they become youth group legends and forge little bonds that may've never existed otherwise. I even managed to have a quiet, personal Jesus moment that was a beautiful thang. I live for stuff like that.

But then in a split second the rug gets yanked out from under me. I'm finding out about things that went on under my nose and behind my back and I feel my heart getting heavy, my trust crumbling and my confidence shaken. So if you're still reading this ... sorry for the train wreck. It's not my usual modus operandi (how 'bout that $25 word!) Anyway, just throw me up in there in your prayers. I'm still sorting things out. Asking questions. Pilfering through several variations of the truth. Wondering all the while how stupid do they really think I am?

And just for the record, I'll still run towards 'em.

Chaperons don't enforce morality;
they force immorality to be discreet.
~Judith Martin