Branded a Christian

Four months ago, I got a tattoo.  This wasn't my first, and much to my mom's chagrin, it probably won't be my last...but unlike the tattoos I chose at 18 or 19 years old, this one really did mean something to me.  I had spent a fair amount of time contemplating whether or not I wanted to take the plunge and get the new ink; it had been 10 years (almost) since my last tattoo, and I started thinking I might be too old, or that it might not really fit the corporate environment I work in.  After weighing the pros (many) and cons (none that couldn't be turned into pros), Evan made an appointment for a Saturday at 6pm.

It didn't take long; 15 minutes at best.  I wasn't nervous, and it didn't hurt.  When the artist was finished, he admired his work, and my choice: Romans 8:31, on the inside of my right forearm.

"...but if God is for us, who can be against us?"

This scripture has always been meaningful and important to me, but as I've grown in my faith and deepened my relationship with God, I have found myself living those words.  I knew that no matter what obstacles I faced, mountains I climbed, blows I was dealt...God had my back.  People would come into my life with agendas bent on hurting me or the ones I loved...but they were nothing to be afraid of, because God was on my side.  Knowing that He is with me through every peak and valley keeps me going.  It gives me the strength to carry on, it gives me the joy that I want to share with others, and it gives me the love I want to give the whole wide world.  God loves me, and I love Him.

Now, some people like tattoos, some people hate tattoos, and some people couldn't care less.  Not long after I had this done, an acquaintance noticed the new ink and commented, "Hmm...you know you've just branded yourself a Christian, right?"

Branded?  Well, what's so wrong with that?  Her statement caught me a little off guard (although she's never been one to hide what she's thinking, so I'm not sure why it surprised me...a graceful Southern belle she is not!) and I wasn't quite sure how to respond.  I'm certain I said something along the lines of, "Well, I am a Christian."

Later, reflecting on her words that may or may not have been intentionally negative, I realized something.  I wasn't branding myself a Christian.  I was declaring myself a Christian.  I was declaring the love, joy, happiness, strength, passion, hope and healing that I know, because Christ is my savior.  Who wouldn't want to know about it?  Should from the rooftops about it?  Share the good news with every single person they encountered?  I felt some guilt and shame for not recognizing what was, in that small conversation, the perfect opportunity to tell her why being a Christian is so incredibly awesome.  But I knew I wouldn't let that chance pass me by again.

In the past few months, my tattoo has led to many chats about my faith and God's love, and I've even had four deep and meaningful conversations with total strangers.  Each and every one professed their faith, their love of God, and the things He's done in their lives.  It has also presented the opportunity for me to explain the scripture, and what God's love is all about.

Tattoos aren't for everyone, and I'm not encouraging you all to run out and get fresh ink (although it would be kinda cool, right?) but, I've found that what was originally something I was doing just for myself has turned into something that has allowed me to witness and fellowship with others.  You certainly don't need a tattoo to do that...but just think of those ways we can visually express our love and joy, and what conversations those expressions could lead to.

I know I want to declare it.  I know I want to shout it into a great, big megaphone, and tell the world all about how awesome our God truly is.  But I suppose for now, I'll settle for conversations in the check-out lane at Publix.  Even the tiniest of seeds can grow into a mighty oak, right?

Friend of Sinners

"...let our hearts be led by mercy." - Casting Crowns, "Jesus, Friend of Sinners"

Most of you know my husband is self-employed, and if you've ever owned a business (especially a small one), you know just how much you give of yourself to help your business grow.  Evan easily works 55+ hours a week...joyfully, thankfully and gratefully.  He is willing to make sacrifices in order to keep our business moving forward; the blood, sweat and tears poured into this is all his.  There is no man I know who works harder than Evan; there is no man I know who is as humble as Evan.  He recognizes and appreciates God's blessing in our life, no matter the circumstances.

He works six days a week, usually 12 hours a day.  He also volunteers to run the sound board at our church for both the 8:45 and 11:00 services on Sunday mornings.  The "down time" we share together is limited...a couple hours in the evening catching up on our favorite TV shows, our Saturday night "COPS" and homemade pizza date, and Sunday afternoon (if he isn't working in the yard).

One of the things we never, ever, ever get to do is have breakfast together, since he's out the door before I've even finished my coffee seven days a week.  On the rare occasion we get to have breakfast together, we usually head down to one of our favorite places, Stuff-A-Bagel.  It's the only restaurant in town where Evan can get his Taylor ham, egg and cheese sandwich (on a Kaiser roll with salt, pepper and ketchup), and I happen to love a good everything bagel with veggie cream cheese (and theirs is the best!)

This week we celebrated Indepdence Day.  Evan did have one small job to finish up that morning, but he decided to push it off until later in the day, so we could grab breakfast out.  And so, in my Woolworth's t-shirt and without a stitch of make-up on, we loaded up and drove on down. 

Walking into the restaurant, we passed a young man outside.  He looked tired.  He had a rolling suitcase and a backpack with him.  He had several tattoos.  I avoided eye contact; Evan said good morning.  I could tell the young man was going to ask something, so I urged Evan along, hurrying to the door so we could get inside.

A few minutes later, we were sitting in our regular booth, and the young man came inside.  He walked up to the counter, and requested a refill for his coffee.  One of the waitresses informed him they didn't give refills; however, another waitress who overheard the conversation gladly refilled his cup, letting him know it was no biggie, since it was a holiday.  I caught the look passed between the two waitresses, and understood that they considered him a nuisance, and that this probably wasn't his first time hanging out at the restaurant.

Our order was called, and Evan went up to the counter.  By now, the young man had refilled his coffee, and had managed to catch the eye of another couple enjoying their breakfast across the restaurant from us.  As I went to the counter to refill my own cup (without asking), I overheard parts of his conversation.  He had moved to Marco Island three months ago, after accepting a job with a contractor.  After three weeks, he was let go.  Around the same time, his wife (living up north, presumably) left him, taking their two young daughters with her, and he hadn't heard from her since.  He was now officially homeless.  He had been turned down at our local shelters because he isn't a Lee County resident.  It was an endless tale of misfortune.  Thinking only of my bagel, I went back to our booth, still avoiding eye contact.

Evan and I chatted about the weather, politics, what we would be grilling later that afternoon.  Eventually, I steered the conversation toward the young man, who was still yammering away with the other couple (whose breakfast was undoubtedly getting cold).  I told Evan how inconsiderate it was for this young man to interrupt their breakfast, and how glad I was he hadn't come to our table.  I also asked Evan to keep his head very still, blocking the young man from my line of sight, so I wouldn't inadvertently catch his eye and be forced to hear the sob story while my coffee got cold.  Evan didn't have much to comment on, and I could tell he most certainly was not sharing my feelings about this young transient,essentially panhandling in a restaurant.

Finally, the young man left.  He went outside, bummed a cigarette off another patron of the restaurant, and sat at a table under the shade.  He savored those last few sips of coffee.  I wondered what he was planning.

The couple from the back of the restaurant finished their breakfast, and went outside.  The husband, a burly man with a stern face, approached the young man.  I just knew he was going to tell him not to be so rude next time, and to let folks eat in peace.  He did no such thing.  The husband asked the young man to come inside with him, back to the restaurant.  Now, I just knew he was going to make this young man apologize to the waitresses for making them feel uncomfortable, and badgering them about a coffee refill.  But again, no such thing.

He walked the young man right up to the counter, and asked him to order asbsolutely anything on the menu he wanted, because he wanted to buy him breakfast.  If I'm being perfectly honest...I was stunned.  Evan gave me a knowing look...one of those, "See, it's not always what you think" looks that he's so famous for.

The young man ordered a phenomenal breakfast platter, a Yoo-Hoo, and another cup of coffee.  He thanked the husband endlessly.  The couple left, and the young man returned to his table outside, slowly enjoying each and every bite of the feast before him.

A few minutes later, the couple returned...with a Publix gift card, for the young man.

It was in that moment, watching the couple choosing to bless this young man instead of disregarding him entirely (as I had done), that I realized something about myself...I can be pretty selfish.  I was so careful to guard my time with my husband, to keep this rare breakfast date to ourselves, that I had completely neglected someone in need.  And not only had I turned my eyes, but I'd turned my heart.  I thought cruel, mean things about someone I didn't even know.  I judged him based on his appearance and behavior.  I avoided interacting with him, even saying a simple, "Good morning."

I don't believe I have felt such overwhelming shame and regret in a very long time.  Here I am, telling others how important it is for us to be kind to one another; to find ways to be the hands and feet, and to love everyone the same way Jesus loves us - unconditionally, and without judgment.  I was a walking contradiction of my own beliefs.  This was a reality check I wasn't quite prepared for.

I am human.  I make mistakes.  I sin.  I do not always live up to the image of God that I'd hoped for.  That morning, I understood that those actions aren't only hurtful and damaging to me, they are hurtful to others as well.

I prayed that morning for the young man, but I also prayed for myself.  I prayed for God to open my eyes, to show me what I'm missing (even the things I'm missing intentionally).  I asked for Him to fill me with love for all man again, because obviously I'd lost something along the way.  And I asked for Him to help me understand that while I value time with my husband, there are others who could value time with me...even if it's just a few minutes over breakfast.

PS - I've now decided that storing a few extra Publix gift cards in my wallet for occasions like that seems like a pretty good idea.  Amazing how your perspective changes from avoiding the opportunity to help, to seeking the opportunity...God's love is powerful, huh?

Gaining, Losing and Finding Friends

Remember when you were five years old, and you had your very first "best" friend?  The friend who always let you have the pink My Little Pony, shared those gummy fruit snacks with you during afternoon snack time, and never told anyone you still slept with a night light on?  Then as a pre-teen, your best friend who kept your secrets, never told anyone about your first crush, and always saved you a seat on the bus?  As we grew older, the conversations and situations evolved, but the same idea of that "best friend", of close friends, remained the same.

It's amazing to consider the number of friends who have come and gone from our lives.  Some for good reason, and some, for reasons that are more difficult to explain.  In some cases, it was a blessing, and in others, it was painful.

Here's what I've learned, looking back at the friendships I've gained and lost over 28 years of existence: each change brought me closer to God, and helped me grow in my faith.  Even if it didn't occur right away, even if it took days, weeks, months (or in some cases, years) to understand why the transition occurred, I can easily say now that those moments were leading me to the place I needed to be in my walk.  And, because I'm quirky, I like to think of it as my, "friendship garden," which is based on our very real (and challenging) garden at home last Spring.   Here we go...

Losing friends = pulling weeds (sometimes).  Getting rid of the various weeds that found themselves at home in our garden was important, but it wasn't always my favorite thing to do.  I'm certain we could all reflect back on some of those questionable friendships from years back; the ones during our teenage and young adult years (or even our "old" adult years), who may have influenced us to make choices that weren't the best.  And I'm certain we know exactly why those friends didn't make it to our current lives (for me, it's because many of them weren't "friends" to begin with). 

Those not-so-great relationships were like the prickly weeds finding their way into my cilantro.  At first, they blended right in, and I didn't notice them, or see the harm in them. Then, it became more apparent they certainly did not have my cilantro's best interest in mind...so while it wasn't fun, I did need to rid the garden of those weeds.  Sort of like ending those relationships...not always fun, not always easy, but necessary.

But what about the good relationships that have changed, or been removed, from our circle?  Well, for me, those are the carrots that just wouldn't grow.   I loved those carrots.  I babied those carrots.  I watered them, fed them, talked to them...I had some really great times with those carrots.  Then, when it came time to harvest and I pulled those carrots...well, I found out that those carrots had actually just grown into little round carrot nubs.  Oh sure, they were edible, but they just weren't what I was expecting - like some of the good friendships we've lost along the way (well, minus the edible part).  Even a brief friendship can serve to direct you on your path.  But, even in their brevity, those carrots gave me joy, and taught me a few lessons (dig deeper holes).

Life is ever-changing.  Folks get married, start families, change careers, move to knew cities...these transitions will bring new friends, and leave old friends.  And while it can be painful and unexpected, I have found that, over time, losing a friendship still helped me grow closer to God.  Because for the friends (the good ones) I feel I've lost, I've also developed relationships and friendships with others who have continued to bless my life.  It's almost as if God knew exactly how long I needed some people walking with me, and when their accompaniment on my journey was complete.  Also, not all salads need carrots...

And this is where the gaining friends part comes in, which I'd liken to having a dozen unexpected, yet wonderful, watermelons.  When I planted our watermelon seeds last year, I wasn't really aware of how many watermelons we'd be getting...I counted on two or three, and within a few weeks, it was obvious we were becoming the watermelon capital of Cape Coral.  There were so many - three times what I'd expected.  We were blessed with melons.

And when I think of the friends I'm blessed with now, I am amazed at how they entered my life, and I'm incredibly thankful and grateful for each and every single one.  I understand that God has placed these people in my path for a reason, and knowing that helps me to understand why God maybe removed some of the other folks.  God knows what we need; he knows where we are, and where we could be heading, and where he wants to use us...and he'll put the right people in your path to get there, if we're just open and receptive to the changes in life.  By the way, watermelon is delicious in salad.

Finding friends (aka, "I totally forgot I planted those strawberries").  You know, those people who you had friendships with before, but for whatever reason, fell out of touch.  Sometimes, those people come back into your life...and it's an incredible, wonderful surprise - just like those strawberries, planted in February, that didn't arrive until two months later.  I had completely forgotten about them, but I was so happy when they arrived!

For me, those "found" friendships are ones I place great value on.  People who we may never have seen or heard from again, but who we've managed to reconnect with.  People we wouldn't have necessarily been close friends with before, but have found that connection now in life.  People we have more in common with than we initially realized.  People who we may have been separated from because we all needed just a little more time to learn and grown, before we could start walking together again.

Sometimes God puts folks in (or removes them from) our path...and sometimes, we do it of our own free will.  Recognizing that life is constantly changing, and knowing the relationships that have helped (as opposed to hurt) our walk is vital.  It's incredibly important to understand, value, respect and grow those friendships - like the garden.  Pull the weeds, water the sprouts, fertilize the ground...the bounty will be plentiful.  End garden analogies.

Friendships aren't always easy, and there will always be challenges.  But, making the effort to keep and nurture those relationships, even during times of difficulty, is what we are called to do.  We're called to serve, to encourage, and to love others...including our friends.

Perfect Timing

"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

Being a small business owner, we are often faced with challenges that test our strength, fortitude, and even our trust in God.  If you own, or have owned, a small business; if you've ever been self-employed, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about.

It's a risk, a chance that we take, investing so much of our own time and money into a service or product, hoping and praying the effort will pay off.  Oh sure, I do have my own career outside of our business, but as many of you also know...today's economy calls for a two-income household.

And I will happily and thankfully say that, even though the economy continues to challenge the nation, Evan has done well.  Each and every day, we are endlessly grateful for the blessings God continues to show us.

Even though we are blessed, situations will arise that cause me to question our path and God's plan for our lives - as if we're doing something wrong, missing His point, heading in the wrong direction.

Once of the greatest challenges we face with a property maintenance business is finding good employees.  Not to speak poorly of property maintenance and handyman businesses, or the construction industry in general, but it's a seemingly well-known fact that this type of work can draw in a certain type of individual.  Rather than pigeonhole the entire industry, I'll just give you a quick run down of the top five issues we run into with finding employees for EPG Home Services, LLC:

1. Has a car, but no driver's license.  It's either suspended ("I didn't even know I got those tickets!") or revoked (DUI, habitual traffic offender, or the most popular...back child support).
2. Has a driver's license, but has no car.
3. Criminal record.  Look, I don't care if it was shoplifting when you were a teenager...I'm not going to hire you.  After having one employee steal a $600 drill, we learned that being too trusting, and too willing to give second chances, could be a bad thing.
4. Failure to purchase and use an alarm clock.  Work begins at 7am, not 11:30am.
5. They're from Jersey. :) Which means they're unfamiliar with Florida building codes, and they can't take working in the heat.  This isn't an offensive statement...you can ask my husband, the Jersey boy, how he feels about it, too!

Early this year, we ran through half a dozen or so employees, and very quickly.  We've learned that giving someone two days to prove their skill and dependability is really all they need to screw it up.  And, even if it seems cruel, we've grown accustomed to letting folks go. 

But now, summer is upon us...typically a slower part of the year.  Only this year, God has blessed us with an abudance of work, which we totally appreciate...but we know that Evan just can't do it on his own.  And so, with our one true, dependable employee off to Georgia for the summer (thanks, Kathleen!) we knew we'd need to find someone else.  It was this "finding someone else" thing that really started giving me an ulcer...

After running through two Jersey-ites (no car, no alarm clock variety), I was exhausted.  I just couldn't understand God's timing...He had given us work to carry us through many weeks, yet we didn't have the help to get the jobs done.  And I really began questioning what the Big Guy was thinking up there.

Two weeks went by, with Evan working seven days a week, and usually 12+ hours a day (except Sundays, which he limited to six hours) and still, I saw no end in sight.  And so, we did something then that we should have done long before...we prayed.  We prayed on a Sunday evening before dinner that God would help us, show us what we were missing, let me understand why he'd give us work without the ability to complete it all.

The next day, I did something I've never, ever done...I checked Craigslist.  Here's the thing about Craigslist...most of those folks who are posting looking for work are unlicensed, uninsured, and have zero experience.  They're looking to make a quick buck.  And they're taking work from honest and hard working business owners like us, who have made the financial commitment to properly license and insure ourselves.  People, listen: if they show up to your house wearing flip-flops, driving a Ford Astrovan, and they need to borrow one of your ladders...you may need to reconsider.  And, as an insurance agent, I can't begin to tell you the repercussions of one of these Joe Schmoe Quick Bucks injuring themselves on your property.  Be aware of who you're hiring to do the job, please.

Back to Craigslist.  After scrolling through an endless sea of "WILL PAINT ANYTHING FOR $300!" posts, I found one that sort of stuck out to me, a potential candidate.  He owned his own business (licensed and insured!) and had been living and working in Florida for 14 years (sorry, Jersey...).  His post simply stated that he was looking for some extra work during the slow season...and boy, did we have it.  I decided that this was one Craigslist post that could actually work.

Evan called him, and agreed to have him come out to a painting job.  Over the course of two days, they got to know each other very well...Jeremy didn't hit any of the top five issues we have (this was a rarity).  Married, young child at home, knowledgeable, dependable, nice, no criminal record...and, a Christian.  This was also a rarity in our industry.  And so, Evan and Jeremy began talking about their faith...their journeys to where they are today, the ways God had worked in their lives.

Then Jeremy told Evan something that sealed the deal for me, and reminded me that God does know what He's doing after all.  The very Sunday we prayed for help, Jeremy prayed for work.  His post on Craigslist?  The very first time he's ever done that.  Ever, in 14 years.  This truly was a God thing, in my eyes.  There was a small window of time that passed between our prayers Sunday night, and finding his post on Monday morning.  And he's been a blessing to our business ever since.

This lesson reminded me of many things...that sometimes, you have to weather the storms to see the rainbow.  That even when we're unsure of what direction God is leading us in, you just need to sit down and enjoy the ride.  And that God's timing is always, always perfect, even if we don't realize it at that very moment.  I know His timing is perfect - Jeremy is proof of that.

Religion v. Relationship

When the topic of Christianity and faith comes up, it seems there’s always at least one person who tells me they’re “religious.”  Usually, this statement is followed by, “I was raised Lutheran” or, “My grandfather was a Baptist preacher” or my favorite, “I go to church with my family every Christmas and Easter.”  And while those things are, in their own right, well and good…they aren’t enough.  Part of me wants to follow up their declaration with one simple question: So, you inherited Christianity?

Being a Christian isn’t really passed down like red hair and freckles, and it’s not handed to you in a box with a bow like a birthday present from grandma.  It’s not a knick-knack in a closet, kept safe and sound, out of harm’s way until those twice-a-year special occasions when you wipe off the dust bunnies.  You don’t “get” religion…because to me, the key aspect of being a Christian is just that – it’s not about religion.

Being a Christian is about having a relationship with Jesus, our Savior.  It’s about knowing God, loving God, spending time with God, and above all else, obeying God.  And not just when it’s convenient; not just twice a year, and not just when you’re with your friends and family who are Christians.  It’s a "24-7-365-until your very last breath this side of Heaven" type of deal.

For those folks who think attending every Sunday does the trick, here’s the kicker: going to church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than sitting in a garage makes you a Buick.  Because if you don’t have that relationship, you’re just a pew potato.

So how do you get this coveted relationship?  Well, I can tell you that no “friend request” is necessary, because Jesus isn’t on Facebook.  You can post as many sparkly, blinking “I Love Jesus!” photos as you want, but that’s not going to do it.  You can’t just talk about it (or post about it)…you have to start living it.

Accept Christ as your Savior.  Talk to God.  Pray.  Read the Bible.  Spend time in fellowship with other Christians.  And get out of the pews, and into the streets.  Witness.  Volunteer.  Love.  Be the hands and feet of Jesus.  Understand that God doesn’t just want an hour of your time each week – he wants you all the time.

Some of you might want to pose the question, “So why bother with church?”  And that’s a great question.  We go to church because God calls us to, but when you’re there, you’re not attending a lecture or a concert.  Sure, you’re there to listen, but also to learn and grow in your faith, in your relationship with God, and in your relationship with others followers through fellowship.  Having a relationship with your fellow Christians is equally as important as having a relationship with God.  You just can’t do it on your own.  You need a support system, extended family and friends, folks to help keep you accountable, and disciples you can go out and minister with (that whole hands and feet thing, remember?)

Get out of the “religion” mindset, and get into the living, breathing, loving relationship.  Your life will forever change, for the better.  Promise.

Living and Learning

It’s that time of year…school is coming to a close, summer is just around the corner, and everywhere I go, there are signs of upcoming high school graduations – seniors preparing to leave the nest, and enter those first stages of “adulthood.”  Remember those days?  The world at your finger tips, your future entirely planned out, ready to take on the world?

While driving home from work one evening this week, one of my new favorite songs from Sidewalk Prophets came on the radio – “The Words I Would Say.”  Listening to the lyrics did what most songs to do for me; waxing nostalgic, thinking of my youth, and really considering what I should have known all those years ago.

It’s been a long, long time since I was 18…in fact, it seems like an entire lifetime ago.  And if I had to think of the person I was then compared to the person I am now, I suppose I’m in a “new” life, figuratively speaking.

But if I had the chance to talk to my 18-year-old self, the one who knew it all, there are a few important pieces of wisdom I’d love to impart:

1. Choose your friends wisely.  Your circle of influence will do just that – influence you.  Surround yourself with people who love you for the person you are; who want nothing but your friendship and love in return, and who encourage you on your walk. 
2. Choose your actions wisely.  If what you’re about to do ended up on the front page of the New York Times…how would you feel?
3. Know when you should not be following the crowd.  Take the opportunity to be a leader to those who are lost.
4. Stop worrying about what others think.  You are a unique individual, created by God to fulfill His purpose.  And as the old saying goes…God don’t make no junk!
5. Value yourself.  Love yourself.  Respect yourself.  Believe in yourself.
6. Never give up hope.  Never underestimate His power.  Know that even when the odds don’t seem to be in your favor, when you feel as if the world has turned against you, or when you’ve reached your lowest point, God is always, always, always there for you.  Let Him take care of you.
7. Never be afraid to talk to an adult about what you’re struggling with.  Believe me, the adults have been there, too.
8. Forgive, and forget.  Seriously.
9. Luke 10:27.
10. Pray, pray, pray, pray, pray.

Maybe those were things I did know at 18, but just stored away in some box in my mind, believing they weren’t important concepts and life rules at the time.  This isn’t to say I regret decisions in my youth; I may not be proud, but I know I’m forgiven, and because of that, I’ve let the past go (see #8). 

I suppose those words I wish I’d spoken to myself all those years ago still apply today – I think we all have instances where our 18 year old self can pop back up again.  Those are the days I am extra thankful for God’s love and grace.

I’m not sure if we ever really “grow up.”  I know that I still face challenges today, and I’ll most likely be a work in progress for the rest of my life.  And that’s okay.  I didn’t have it all together then, but I know I’m getting there now.

LOL, God...LOL. :)

Note: I struggled to find a scripture about God loving a good joke, or having a sense of humor, or creating the platypus.  But, if you have one...please share! - K

Ah, vacation.  Just the sound of those three sweet syllables evokes a feeling of peace, calm and general happiness for me.  Vacation is one of those things that we eagerly anticipate and count the days until its arrival.  Every year, Evan and I venture north to Bryson City, NC – our absolute all-time favorite place to be.  We took our first trip there in October of 2004, celebrating both our recent engagement and my 21^st birthday (a trip to the Biltmore House winery was a must!) and save for a few years of veering off the NC path, we’ve returned nearly every fall since then.  This year, we decided on a spring trip.

We just love being in the mountains.  There’s no other place that puts us more in touch with the true awesomeness of God’s creation.  Staring up at the stars at night, watching the sun rise over the mountains at dawn, listening to the birds chirp…completely uninterrupted by TV, phones, computers, people, and the every day hustle and bustle, it’s just absolute heaven.

We’re big hikers.  No, not when we’re at home in the flat land.  Southwest Florida’s weather isn’t really conducive to hiking, save for those two or three days in February where the temps seem to plummet to mid-20s, only to reach 70 again by the end of the week.  And even if the weather was perfect, there’s just not much to “hike” down here.  Oh sure, we could hit some of the preserves, or venture to Ocala, and we probably will some day, but to me, nothing could match the magic of NC. 

Once we’re in the mountains, it’s on.  Our first hikes out of the gate this year totaled an easy eight miles, which was a great warm-up.  We hiked along Kimsey Creek, then up to Big Laurel Falls and Mooney Falls.  These are off Forest Road 68, near Standing Indian Campground.  If you’ve never traveled a forest road, you’re missing out.  Essentially, your vehicle becomes one of those skilled mountain goats that balance on the edge of cliffs, daring to reach for the loan dandelion peeking through a crack.  Many of them are precarious, but so worth the risk.

On day two, we decided to hike a portion of the Appalachian Trail that was highly recommended by one of the friendly gals at Nantahala Outdoor Center.  It’s a moderate hike, not too difficult, just lengthy.  We started at Winding Stair Gap, right off Highway 64 near Wayah, and would end at Siler Bald.  Once you’re at Siler Bald (a mountaintop with little to no growth other than grass) you get these phenomenal near-360 degree views of the Smokies.  Incredible.  Nine miles total, in and out.

The hike started off great.  Weather was gorgeous, in the low 60s and partly cloudy.  The trail was easy to follow, as we gradually left Laurel Creek and ascended the mountain.  We ran into several AT thru-hikers along the way, making the trip from GA to ME.  All were friendly, and most were heading to the shelter at the top.  After a couple hours, and a half mile detour, we reached the bald.  The trail had been a little muddy going in, as it had sprinkled a bit on and off near the middle of the day.  Once at the top, we picnicked lunch and snapped photos.  The skies had turned from partly cloudy to overcast, and it seemed rain would be making its way through again.  A few loud thunderclaps erupted, and we figured it would be best if we made our way back down.

On the way out, we past half a dozen more AT thru-hikers, in three different groups.  All were on their way to the bald, staying overnight at Siler Shelter.  All were somewhat impressed with the folks from flat land, putting in so many miles while vacationing.  One hiker, an Iraq war vet and Combat Medic, said no amount of training he did while enlisted prepared him for hiking the AT.  We all swapped stories (theirs were, of course, more interesting than ours) and parted ways.

About a half mile after our farewells with the last group, the thunder really picked up.  The sky was now a deep purple; no longer a soft gray, with sunbeams peeking through.  We were still high enough up in the mountain that the tree cover wasn’t the best; most trees were still sprouting spring leaves, leaving bare branches as our protection.  Rain began to trickle down, at first a mist, then a real thunderstorm.  We threw on our extra thermals (no hats or weather proof clothing for us day hikers) and we carried on.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was really just a mile or so, the rain finally let up.  We stopped to wring out our soaked thermals, adjust our soggy socks, and take a breather.  We laughed at our luck, getting rained on during a beautiful hike.  We figured this would be yet another tale from vacation we’d pass on to our kids and grandkids.

With three miles left to go to reach the trailhead, we continued on, knowing more storms could be looming.  Our “halfway” point to 64 was Panther Gap; after that, just a couple miles to go.

A bright flash of lightning lit up the clearing sky, and I wondered if those hikers had made it to the shelter yet.  I also counted the seconds to the thunderclap, while thinking I’d never researched to see if that old wive’s tale was actually an accurate way of judging the storm’s distance.  I made it to five before the boom filled the mountains, reminiscent of a Fourth of July finale.  Evan made a crack about it raining again, and I remember telling him he’d surely jinxed us.

We might have made it a quarter mile or so in the mild weather before what I originally thought was a monsoon kicked in (so much for the old wive’s tale).  This time, the storm didn’t begin with a sprinkle…it turned on like a faucet.  No, that might not even be an accurate description…it was as if a giant water balloon was being held over our heads, and someone pricked it with a pin, causing a deluge.  The rain was so heavy, you couldn’t see the trail.  And, because it was nearing 4:30p, the temperature had dropped from an oh-so-pleasant 64 degrees to a man-I-wish-I-had-long-underwear 45 degrees.  After a few hundred more yards, the concept of avoiding wet portions of the trail disappeared, as we were literally walking through a creek.  Boy, was this rough!

Finally, we reached Panther Gap.  No stopping, no wringing out wet clothes or adjusting soggy socks, we just powered through.  This meant only a couple miles to go.  I knew that once we reached Swinging Dick Gap (yes, really – probably some AT hiker’s joke) that we would be less than a mile from the trailhead, which meant less than a mile from the safety of our truck.  Onward, we sloshed.

Many times during our sloshing down the trail, we made “Oregon Trail”-esque comments – “Double team the wagon!” or “Use ropes!” or “Evan has died of dysentery!” (we have a very unique sense of humor). 

As we closed in on Swinging Dick Gap, I could hear Evan behind me uttering small cries of pain, which immediately caused me to believe my husband was sliding down the mountainside, leaving me alone in the pouring rain on the AT nearing dusk and surrounded by hungry (yet friendly) hikers.  I called back, just to make sure he was okay (no taking your eyes of the trail in a monsoon, or certain death awaits) and he hollered, “It’s HELL!” to which I thought, “Well, not exactly – maybe God’s idea of a haha funny joke, but not hell…”  He repeated his words, and I realized he didn’t mean hell…he meant hail.  And sure enough, just when I’d thought that God’s greatest crack was the duck billed platypus – we found ourselves in a hailstorm.

Golf balls rained from the sky, beaning us in the head and filling the muddy rivets in the trail (“Your oxen are stuck!”).  On the plus side, the rain had let up a bit.  Also, I’ve learned that hail hurts exactly as much as you think it would.  And now, not only were we focusing on not sliding down the mountain in a river of mud, but also on not twisting an ankle in the neat little igloo piles forming in every bend.  Somehow, we made it through Swinging Dick Gap with our bones intact.

One would think that the monsoon, and resulting hailstorm, would be enough for one trip back, but you’d be wrong.  On the hike in, you cross Laurel Creek three times – two of these crosses are minor, taking only two or three steps – but one of these crossings is a bit wider (“Ford the river!”) and requires some skill and balance on a long, skinny log.  Well, if you’ve never seen a creek or river rise after a rainstorm, think of what happens to your back porch when you leave the water hose on in the pool for three or four hours.  That’s right, some of your patio furniture just might float away.

The first two crossings went as well as can be expected, but at the final, our neat little log was now beneath the raging (at least from my POV) waters of Laurel Creek.  And while Ev decided he could, in fact, find and balance on this log, I used my years of Oregon Trail training and, that’s right, forded the creek.

By the time we hit the final crossing, the hail stopped, and the rain turned to a light trickle.  But we were still soaked to the bone.

Now, here’s what I take away from this adventure…some folks I know would probably have been pretty ticked about the rain, and vehemently mad about the hail, and most likely cursing the skies by the time they reached Laurel Creek.  But, the Cokes found the whole thing not only amusing, but downright fun.

Yes, it was raining, monsooning and hailing; it was frostbite inducing weather, and we only had one towel between us to share.  But truth be told, it was a blast!  If you can’t laugh about these situations, if you can’t find the humor, what’s the point?  God didn’t give us horrible weather for punishment…weather just happens.  But it’s what we do with it that makes the difference.  Me being upset that my underwear were probably visible through my sweats wasn’t going to stop the rain.  So why get angry?  Why not just appreciate what we’ve been given, and have fun with it?

This adventure did teach me one thing: it really, truly, honestly can get worse (hello, hail).  But, it also taught me that just when you think you’ve hit your limit, you can carry on, and be all the better for it.  We can’t always help the outcome, but you can control how you view and accept it.

Our nine miles on the AT was fabulous, and the three miles of trying weather only add to the tale.  And now, if you hear one of the Cokes mention that, “Nothing is harder than Swinging Dick Gap in a hailstorm!”…you’ll know it’s true! J

Love Without Condition

"A new command I give you: love one another. Just as I have loved you, so you must love one another." - John 13:34

I just love Holy Week.  Actually, I love the entire Lenten season.  Beginning with Ash Wednesday, and the weeks leading up to Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and finally Easter Sunday.  This is such a powerful time of reflection and appreciation upon what Jesus really did for all of mankind. 

After the incredibly powerful, spiritual, emotional and worshipful services we experienced this past Thursday and Friday, I’ve feel the Holy Spirit surrounding me more so than usual.  Maybe I’m more in tune to it now, but whatever He’s doing, it’s awesome.

I’ve spent a great deal of time contemplating and comprehending the love Jesus has for us.  Oh sure, we all “know” about His love; we know his ministry, his miracles, his mission…we can each tell the story of Easter; of the trial, the prison, the decision, the crucifixion.  But stopping to really consider what happened is something that has put into perspective just how much Jesus suffered, what he sacrificed, for us.

His love is beyond measure, beyond fathoming, beyond condition.  I have come to understand how this type of love should – better, must – be applied to our daily loves.

To love without condition…to care for people so much, to desire for their lives to be filled with joy and happiness, with well being and good health, that we’re willing to sacrifice in our own lives.  To put those people and their needs above our own.  To love the way Jesus loved us.

How many relationships in our lives have conditional love?  Probably more than we realize.  The manager who would love the employee more if they just got to work a little earlier.  The son who would love his dad just a bit more if he’d let him stay out past 11pm on a school night.  The mom who would love her daughter more if she’d just finish her masters degree.  The girl who would love her childhood friend greater if he’d just call more often.  The man who would love the homeless if they just took a shower.  The woman who would love the mentally ill if they just stayed out of sight. 

Jesus loves unconditionally – this goes for everyone.  Not just the desirable people, not just friends and family who are easy to get along with, not just kids who obey the rules and parents who are lenient.  Everyone.  Look at his ministry…Jesus hung out with thieves, murderers, lepers, tax collectors and prostitutes.  And he loved them.

People aren’t perfect.  We can be difficult, challenging, argumentative, strong willed and stubborn.  We can be mean, hateful and cruel.  We can be damaged mentally, emotionally and physically.  We are messy.  But we aren’t undeserving of love, and these “ailments” aren’t holding us back from giving love to others, from helping clean up the mess.

This Holy Week has give me the motivation to have what I’d like to think of as a New Year’s Resolution (maybe I’ll call it an “Easter Promise”) to work harder at loving unconditionally; helping where I can, understanding the challenges of others, and just working to meet people where they are, instead of putting conditions and expectations on them.  We could all use a little help; we could all use a little love.

After all, I’m fairly certain Jesus showed us in many ways – especially by giving the ultimate sacrifice – nothing cleans up a mess like love.  Happy Easter.

Simple Blessings

Early this evening, I was standing at the kitchen sinking washing some of the utensils I was using to prep dinner, staring absentmindedly out the window, thinking about what a beautiful Spring day it had been.  I looked out at the edge of the pool, and saw two of our cats – Blueberry and Patches – lounging lazily.  My oldest cat, Mai Tai, came bounding through the pet door, nearly tripping over my husband’s flip flops, and I burst into laughter at the sight of his startled face, and Patches’ concerned glance.  I then immediately stopped scrubbing, and said a small prayer of thanks for the blessings I was surrounded with.

I’d spent an hour or so chopping veggies for dinner (Cajun chicken pasta), singing along to Van Morrison, sipping on one of my favorite red wines, and enjoying the endless sunlight, thanks to the time change.  It was the type of lazy Saturday afternoon that rarely comes, but is much appreciated when it arrives.  I knew any minute, my husband would come walking through the door from work, and we’d get to enjoy a super yummy meal and each other’s company.

It was in that moment, my pause in scrubbing, that I felt the strong desire to thank God for that day, and the joy I’d felt in so many simple tasks: folding fresh laundry, sweeping up fallen blossoms from our three hanging Scarlett Begonias (which are still alive!), reading an old Stephen King book for a few hours.  I was happy to chop fresh veggies, and thankful I had them for our supper.  I was filled with laughter at the sight of our four cats running around like mad, chasing each other, lizards, and even our dog Maggie Mae, all over the back yard.  And I was at peace, watching the sky slowly turn to pink.

Sometimes I get so caught up in thanking God for the big things He does for us, that I can completely neglect thanking him for the small things I am blessed to have each and every day.  But when I stop and really focus on all the things I have to be thankful for…well, the list is seemingly endless. 

Today, I found joy in simple tasks.  I felt appreciation for the world we’ve been given, right down to the grasshopper that Frankie brought inside the house.  And my heart was filled to the brim with the love God has for us, and the realization of just how much He’d given us.

While I was surprised at the overwhelming happiness I felt, it was a wonderful reminder that I should be focusing on these “small” blessings each and every day.  God does bless us with big, incredible, amazing gifts…but there are plenty of simple things out there to tell Him thanks for as well.

You Shall Overcome

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding." - Proverbs 3:5

I have heard it said many times after someone has endured a difficult time in life that those challenges are, “what made them today.”  This is a statement that I wholeheartedly believe.  It is absolutely true, at least in my book, that overcoming obstacles, facing tragedy, withstanding trials, are things that will shape and mold us into people who are not only stronger in the face of adversity, but stronger in our faith.

But, as I’ve journeyed through life, I’ve found something else to be entirely true…that sometimes our circumstances arise by choice, and not by fate.  And sometimes those circumstances didn’t necessarily help you to become who you are…they’ve actually delayed you from becoming the person God intended you to be.

A while back, I briefly wrote about the car accident I was involved in, and how I came to the understanding that God truly had a plan for me.  And although I did express the anger I initially felt towards God for seemingly derailing the plan that I had for my life, what I failed to include was how far from God I allowed my own choices to take me.

Dealing with such a heavy blow did leave me angry and confused, not understanding why things didn’t just “fall into place” the way I’d had my heart set on.  Because I carried this anger and hurt, I found myself in a dark place.  For a brief while, I found myself making choices that today, as an adult, terrify me.  I fell in with the wrong crowd, and I let those people bring me down.  I had total disregard for how my actions and words may hurt my family, my friends, and myself.  I didn’t care if anyone worried about me; I was going to do what I wanted to, no matter what.  And while I felt happy (or the illusion of happiness) most of the time, when I was alone, I felt emptiness.  I’d spent all this time filling the void with the world, and I’d left no room for God.  Once I realized that the pain and hurt remained, I began to understand that the void I was feeling was the result of my poor choices…and I knew that I had to regain the personal relationship with God that I’d so carelessly tossed aside.

For a long time, a carried a fair amount of guilt and shame for some of those choices I’d made.  I had a difficult time believing God still loved and forgave me after what I’d put Him through.  And I felt an incredible sadness when I thought about the amount of time I’d missed spending with God because I’d had my own agenda.  He wanted better for me. 

Things happen that are out of our control…the death of a loved one, the loss of a friendship, a tragic accident, mental or physical abuse, addictions…and we can all relate in some way to many of these situations.  As Christians, we’re here to love and support each other during these times.  Sometimes we let these unforeseeable and uncontrollable circumstances get the best of us; we cope on our own, only to find that these choices lead us into another place of despair and anguish.

It isn’t God’s will to see you in pain, to cause suffering or hurt.  When we find ourselves in those dark moments, where turning to the world for relief instead of turning to God seems like the best option…stop.  Remember how much He loves and cares for you, that He has always been right by your side, and that He’s made sacrifices and suffered through difficult times (Jesus, anyone?) just as we are.  But it does get better, and you will overcome.  Keep God first and foremost, and lean on your Christian family…and everything else will (eventually) fall into place.  We are strong when we lean on God.

There are still moments where even now, ten years later, I’ll feel a twinge of anxiety…but those days are few and far between.  I have finally understood that with God, we really can overcome anything…from severe tragedy to our own simple, stupid mistakes.

And maybe things won’t turn out the way you’d hoped or planned…but just remember, God’s plan for your life is so much more than you could have imagined.

Giving Grace

"Let us consider how to spur one another on toward love and good deeds." - Hebrews 10:24

Today was one of those days.  Having a career in insurance guarantees that, out of all your working days during the year, a handful of them are going to be difficult.  Any agent will tell you, especially now, that insurance is one of those things folks are no longer considering to be protection or peace of mind, but rather a “necessary evil.”  Rates are going up, carriers are nonrenewing, and the State of Florida has no idea what to do about any of it a fair amount of the time…and we aren’t even in hurricane season yet.

Some clients have quite the penchant for getting under my skin…they complain, yell, swear, belittle and berate for what seems like an endless five minutes, hardly allowing you to get an word in edgewise (even though, last time I checked, I’m the one with the license – not them).  Difficult might not even be strong enough an adjective for some of these folks…

So, what I’ve challenged myself to do for quite some time now is to suck it up, show the love, and pray for my clients.

Why?  Well, first of all, because God commanded us to.  But secondly, it’s because I’ve realized that I’m not sure what they have going on at the other end of that phone line,.  They could be suffering from a terminal illness, going through a difficult divorce, losing their home, or getting ready to face the “empty nest” as their last child prepares to head off for college.  They could also be really upset with their Sweet Sixteen bracket.  Regardless, they sound like they could use someone on their side today, and I need to give them a little grace.

Since I’ve started praying for clients, I have found that more often than not, things will fall into place.  Oh sure, there’s always those few who will never be satisfied and will always be difficult, and I’ve learned to accept that and laugh it off (when I can).  But for the most part, extending the olive branch, or silently giving them the grace they may need, has made the day so much better, both for me and them.

If I think about my day, a full 24 hours, I could say I run into a lot of jerks.  And while many are strangers (like bad drivers on Del Prado trying to squeeze into the Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot) some of my “jerks” are folks I’m close with.  Co-workers, associates, clients, friends, even family.  But now, instead of wasting energy to criticize and condemn, I’m trying to redirect that, and focus on prayer instead, because the same “client theory” holds true – we don’t always know what our loved ones are going through.

So just because a co-worker snapped at you this morning, or a close friend hasn’t returned your last four calls, or your aunt let it slip that she liked your hair better before you cut it, doesn’t mean they are undeserving of love, grace and compassion.  And if you can’t find the words to express that to them directly, let God know.

Taking just a few minutes to talk with God and ask Him to help someone out with their struggles, to take whatever is burdening them and lighten the load, or just to fill their heart and mind with the hope and joy that can be found in Him, can be just the thing someone needs.  And…you can accomplish this without even having to hear about forgetting to change the coffee filter, taking out the trash, or calling your sister on her birthday!

Truth is, you could be Jesus in the flesh for someone today, whether you realize it or not.  And we could all use a little prayer. J

Placing Importance on What's Important

Jesus replied, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind." This is the first and greatest commandment. - Matthew 22:37-38

In the winter of 2005, not too long after Evan and I were married, we began one of the most exciting times in a young couple’s life together…looking for our own house. We had been renting in the Cape, and really loved the area, and decided it was time to put our roots down.

I spent hours scouring the MLS listings and real estate websites; we did many a “drive by” all over town, until we finally found something we really loved…and it was perfect! The house had three bedrooms and two bathrooms, a two car garage, a large fenced backyard, and a beautiful swimming pool. The lanai even had a pet door. It was as if the house was practically begging us to move in. And, the house was only one block away from our church...so this surely had to be a God thing! I was filled with hope, optimism, and visions of curtains and color swatches dancing in my head.

We began working with David, our mortgage broker, and he crunched the numbers. At such a young age, I was unfamiliar with the process of getting pre-approved for a loan; I just assumed you didn’t buy the diamond until afteryou knew you were in love, right?

At first David thought it would be nearly impossible to finance what we wanted…we had little to put down, and had only been living in the area a couple years – our careers weren’t exactly what banks considered to be established. Finally, after almost a week, he came back to us with what we’d needed before our search even began – APPROVAL! But, there was a catch…in order to finance the house, he’d need to do some “creative” things with the loan. Those creative things, which would allow us to buy the house, would also make our mortgage payment over $2,400! Nearly double our rent payment!

Could we afford it? Barely. It was doable, if we cut out some other luxuries (you know, like bread and eggs). Was it the best decision? Well, obviously not. Evan, who is quite the optimist, but also a great realist, managed to get my head out of the clouds. After many agonizing days and nights of running the budget numbers, thinking of ways to save, even considering adding part-time jobs to our already busy lives, we agreed that this was not, in fact, the house of our dreams.

To be honest, I was devastated. I felt that we’d worked hard, and deserved a home of our own to really begin our lives in. I couldn’t understand why God would burst my bubble. I spent many days after “losing”the house in quite a funk; sometimes crying, sometimes yelling, but most of the time I was simply confused.

After some time, I realized that I had put so much time and energy on getting this particular house, that I’d completely lost sight of what was truly important. We had a roof over our heads; we had food in the refrigerator, careers that paid the bills, and a happy life. Buying this house was not really that important, in hindsight. God had already blessed us tremendously, and here I was, complaining about not having more. This was the reality check I needed to understand that God was priority one in my life, not finding a house.

I’ve heard it said that, “He who dies with the most toys, wins”…but I’ve also heard that he who dies with the most toys does just that – dies. There is no great reward for accumulating “stuff.” God doesn’t really care if your house is 1,200 square feet, or 12,000 square feet. And while it’s nice to have new things, to take vacations, to splurge every once in a while, we shouldn’t let the things that we don’t have become the “ones that got away” in our minds. God provides for us; he give us exactly what we need, at exactly the right time. We just don’t always realize it. He wants you to be happy, and He wants to bless you, but He also wants you to keep Him first in your life and give thanks for what you do have. His timing, and His gifts, are always perfect.

So, what about His perfect timing in blessings? Well, a little over a year later, at a time when we weren’t even looking for a house, I came across a listing in one of those real estate magazines Publix has on display in their lobby. And wouldn’t you know…I found “the one.” It was three bedrooms, two baths, a one car garage, large fenced yard, a beautiful pool…and a pet door on the lanai.

I was extremely hesitant about beginning the process again, but this time, we did it right. And that all-important first step? No, not pre-approval on the loan…pre-approval from the Big Guy. We spent a few days praying, asking for His guidance, and felt that this was the right time. We put in an offer, which was accepted within days. Obtaining a loan was a breeze –and not $2,400 a month! Five years later, I still thank God each and every day for blessing us with this home, and the roots we’ve begun. He made it happen.

Prayer Pause

"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all cirucumstances...for this is God's will through Christ Jesus." - 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

When Evan and I first moved to Cape Coral years ago, we rented a little house in a small neighborhood not too far from where we live today.  At the time, I was still based in our agency’s corporate office in Fort Myers.  Traveling across the bridge every morning proved to be a challenge, especially if I didn’t leave by 7:15am.  Sitting through the light at Del Prado and the Parkway two or three times was almost a given if I had fallen jut ten precious minutes behind schedule.

We had grown close with nearly all our neighbors not long after moving in (save for a few Yankees that I could never quite see eye to eye with).  One of our neighbors was a sweet old man, who split his time between bagging groceries at Publix, and volunteering at the Salvation Army’s thrift store just down the street.  He was quiet, kept to himself mostly, and always walked to work.  He was the type who would smile and wave when you passed, but not really stop to converse.  Because our house was so near the entrance to the neighborhood, we did see him nearly every day.

One morning, during season, I found myself running late for work – again.  After rushing around the house to quickly feed the cats, walk Maggie Mae (who was just a puppy at the time), turn on the dishwasher, and find my shoes, I grabbed my bag and bolted for the door.  I hurled my belongings into the back seat of our truck, hopped into the driver’s seat (uttering many four letter words at the time) cranked the engine and threw that sucker into reverse, ready to barrel down the driveway and into rush hour traffic.  This was not how I’d envisioned my day starting…my head was full of mean thoughts, anticipating the awful drive in and the disapproving looks from my supervisor, who would most certainly be waiting at my cubicle.  I also knew that starting my day on such a sour note would surely keep me on this negative path.  The day hadn’t even begun, and I was already thinking of crawling back in bed.

Halfway down the driveway, I was forced to slam on brakes, as our quiet and kind (and extremely slow) neighbor was making his way down the street, headed to the thrift store for his day of volunteering.  I glared at him in the rear view mirror, and continued spouting out a few more choice words.  Of all mornings, this is the one he decides to walk on MY side of the street?!

He made it to the center of our driveway, and stopped.  Then, he bowed his head, and brought his folded hands to his face…and he prayed.  His prayer lasted ten or fifteen seconds at best.  He concluded, made the sign of the cross, and continued on his way, never turning his head in my direction.

Witnessing this small act felt like a sucker punch to the gut.  Why was I in such a hurry?  Why was I placing so much importance on such menial things?  Turning into Speed Racer wasn’t going to clear the traffic; swearing at the coffee pot wasn’t going to make my day any easier.  What was the point of getting so upset over such silly things, completely beyond my control?

I’ll never know what my old neighbor stopped to pray for.  Maybe he saw my frantic face, and thought I could use some extra prayers that day.  Maybe he feared for his life when he saw me spin the tires just backing out of the driveway.  Or maybe he was just stopping to thank God for the beautiful day.  Either way, his small act changed my entire direction that day.

I was reminded that in all circumstances, good or bad, I need to take the time to be with God, to talk to Him, and thank Him for all He’s given me.  And this isn’t just in the major good and bad times…we’re talking every day.  Thanking him for BOGO Ranch dressing, for a day where the humidity never even comes close to reaching 100%, for a few quiet minutes alone…and even for the blessing of a career that may require getting up a little bit earlier in the morning to make it on time. 

In every situation, God is with you; right beside you, holding your hand, steering you in the right direction – if we just stop to pay attention.  Take a prayer pause in your busy day and have a chat with the Big Guy; thank him for your blessings, in all circumstances.

Why Give? (Part One)

Giving.  It’s one of the most basic acts we perform each and every day, in varying degrees of greatness.  But why do we give?  Is it simply from habit?  Or is there a greater reason behind the gift?

For me, the motivator in giving has to be unconditional love.  This is a phrase that I use almost to the point of exhaustion in my conversations; almost to the point that the words lose their spark.  I find that sometimes, my giving loses that same spark as well.  When I begin to feel as if I’m just going through the motions of giving, I have to stop and remind myself of what those two words truly mean, and how they’ve encouraged my giving.

As a child, I could easily identify unconditional love – that’s how my parents loved me.  I knew that when I colored on the walls as a toddler, when accidentally left the freezer door open as a kid (spoiling pounds upon pounds of flash frozen beans and corns, and flooding the garage), and especially when I backed into the mailbox as a teenager…my parents would be upset, but they still loved me.  They loved me regardless of what I’d done.  As I became older, I found myself feeling that same type of love for others.  There were times in my life I wouldn’t have had the words or knowledge to explain why I felt that love, but it was there, like a warm hearth in my heart…glowing, and waiting to be kindled.

As I grew in my faith, and found the answers to that love, I knew it needed to be shared.

Unconditional love is the great motivator to giving.  Our giving comes from the love God has for us.  Never in all the world has there ever been, or ever will be, a love as great as His.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son…” John 3:16

A scripture many of us know by heart; probably one of the very first memorized by most of us.  But have you ever stopped to consider those words, and that love?  A love so all-consuming and powerful, that God was willing to send his Son to die for us?  There are times I find myself dizzy just trying to wrap my head around such an idea.  If God loves us so very much, isn’t it not just our duty, but our joy, to return that very same love?

“This is my command: Love each other.” – John 15:17

The answer is, emphatically, YES!  Yes, we are to return that love to everyone we encounter.  As followers of Christ, we are called to give that unconditional love.  Love, like giving, isn’t an obligation.  Not a task to be checked off the to-do list, not an accomplishment for the day.  Love and giving are part of our lives, a daily act.  Second nature.

On those days where I question why I’m giving, or when the giving begins to feel rote and routine, I hear those six important words in my head, “For God so loved the world…” And instantly, the spark becomes a burning fire in my heart.