Bad things...

Why do bad things happen to good people?  Because we live in a fallen world, a very not-perfect world. We live on a planet that has fatal and chronic illness, poverty, hatred, accidents, school shooting, terrorism, and the list goes on.  But even in this fallen world, there is good news.  The Good News is that God came to earth as a man, Jesus.  He experienced pain and suffering as a result of just simply living on a sinful planet (he never sinned, he just lived where it existed).  Jesus lived, died, and rose again, leaving His spirit here with us.  And He promises that even though we have to live in this fallen world, He'll be right here beside us.  Can we pray for protection?  Healing?  Needs?  We sure can!  And many times He provides with great grace.  Sometimes our prayers don't get answered but it's because in our humanness we can't see the "whole picture" of what He has planned.  

Another bit of good news is that we don't have to struggle through life in this fallen world all by ourselves.  Those who call upon His name and belong to Him are believers, and believers stick together.  We encourage each other, pray for each other, and laugh (or cry) together, just to name a few.  

Somehow in this world that is a host for all those bad things, there is also a myriad of good things.  Friendship, love, generosity, hope, laughter, new babies, music, and the list goes on.

Bad things are going to happen to good people, they just will.  But knowing the one who can calm the storm, even when it's the storm of anger, grief, or even fear that may rage on the inside will hopefully make getting through those bad things a little easier.  

You may have different thoughts, but I will just say that there have been so many times in my life that if it wouldn't have been for Jesus, I'm not sure I would have made it through.

To quote Annelle from "Steel Magnolias":   "It may sound real simple and stupid ...Well maybe I am, but, that's how I get through things like this."

When Jesus rides a Harley

On September 1st I went to my scheduled routine mammogram.  While there I saw a posted sign for an online service in which you could sign up for and have access to your medical records.  "Good idea", I thought.  So I had the mammogram and went to work.  I also got online and registered for the service. 

 Early the next afternoon I received a message that I had results posted, so naturally I signed on and went to give it a look.  I really thought I wouldn't even be able to decipher the test results, but I was wrong.  There in findings it started mentioning cysts, nodules, etc.  But then I saw it, it seemed to be in all caps and bolded (it really wasn't):  small solid mass.  Hmm, now what?  An ultrasound and magnified mammogram were now scheduled for September 16th.  If you know me at all, you might know that I'm like my dad in the fact that when there's a problem, you do the next logical thing to solve it.  And if you have to wait a couple of weeks then you try to keep busy and occupied so you're not focusing on the problem.  So when Mark asked if I'd like to go on a motorcycle ride with people from his work, I said yes.  I was hoping it would take my mind off of "it".  Because even though I was trying not to think of "it", apparently somewhere deep in my grey matter, I'd been rolling the information around quite a bit.  I realized this through a series of small panic attacks I started having.  If you've ever had one, you will know what I'm typing about.  Panic attacks aren't fun, they interfere with the way my body processes sugar, and in general, they can be kind of embarrassing.  The PA that was especially so happened during the first song of a choir program that I was in where I was standing on the front row. Quietly and quickly walking off the stage and out the door was really the only option that I had.

Let me get back to the Harley ride.  There were about 16 cycles and about 28 people that rode north towards Rockville on Monday, Labor Day.  One day after I'd hustled stage left and ditched the choir performance to go sit in a room, up against the wall, sweating and deep breathing.  

As all the motorcycles took off down the road, something wonderful happened.  Warm sunshine washed over me and fresh air enveloped me from head to toe.  It felt wonderful!  I popped in my earbuds, chose a Chris August album to listen to, and I started praying.  Here's the great thing about tears while riding a motorcycle:  they just sort of get swept away. Kind of like raindrops on the edge of a windshield.  I started telling Jesus about what was going on (like He didn't already know). I was reminded of the scripture that tells us how bowls of tears are collected in Heaven.

You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.  Psalms 56:8

Something began to wash over me.  Something bigger than panic attacks.  Something that even though I couldn't see it or touch it was there!  Peace. I hadn't had anymore testing yet, I didn't know results from anything yet, but it was alright. The Bible says that the Lord goes before and follows after me, that He has His hand upon me. (Psalms 139:5)  Even when I'm on the back of a Harley, Jesus is right there with me.  More tests would come along, but on that day I knew that He already knew; that was all I needed to know.

In Remembrance

14 years ago this morning thousands of people did just what I did today.  They got up, got ready, and headed out for their day.  There were men, women, and children who were getting into cars, buses, and subways to get to where they went every day.  Moms were dropping off babies and children with their diaper bags, men were riding up the elevators in suits carrying briefcases and cups of coffee, maintenance workers who had worked the night shift were looking forward to going home and going to bed, firefighters were packing their gear for whatever their day would bring them, pilots were doing final pre-flight checks and police officers gathered at their station for their morning team briefings.  None of them could fathom the tragedy that was soon to take place.

For so many people from all walks of life, young and old, white and blue collar it was another day of "business as usual".  I'm remembering all those who did what they did every day, but not knowing that it would be the last morning they would ever enter the Trade Centers, the police stations, the firehouses, board airplanes, etc.  Later that same morning our country would be attacked by terrorists.  People would die, families would be separated forever, and heroes would arise.    Let us never take one single day that we've been given for granted. Let us NEVER forget September 11th!

Mammogram Machines & other stuff I needed to get off my chest...

I went for my mammogram this morning.  Oh my, always an adventure!  This was the first time I'd had one with the new 3D one that is supposed to offer less discomfort than the 2D.  Hmmmm, really?  Forget previous torture methods used by our military, I vote that all terrorists have their chest tissue placed in a mammography machine and told when they can or cannot take a breathe.  I think that terrorists would see one comrade be placed in the machine and after that, they would start whipping their wraps off their heads and waving them as surrender flags!

I'm almost positive that on the application for mammography technicians there's a box to check for: Is familiar with a panini sandwich press, George Foreman grill, or screen-printing iron press.  But honestly, the tech I had did her very best to keep me from going into panic mode.  And really, you can't even do much in panic mode when you're locked and loaded into a mammogram! 

I consoled myself with a nice brewed coffee from Im'pressed and a warm lemon muffin.  It took the edge off.  {wink}

Although now in hindsight, I should have skipped the muffin.  

You see, I have gotten razzed for being the only one not wearing a Harley tee when the group goes for a ride.  So I hopped right on Amazon and did some shopping.  I found one, purple w/sparkles.

I ordered an XL.  Amazon/Harley failed to inform that it was an XL for a skinny person......I had no idea that there were extra-large thin people, but apparently there are, go figure?

I could get it on without pliers; however,it just "hugged" me too much for my comfort level.  I have faced the facts that I'm really not a Harley person in the first place.  But I will agree that the rides we take do bring me into a much deeper level in my prayer life!  

♫ Jesus, take the handle bars! ♫  ;)  

Thanks for humoring me as I typed whilst I drank my AdvantEdge Carb Control shake. (It's the lunch you have AFTER you had a lemon muffin.)   {double wink}

Happy Birthday to my sister Rebecca!

A long time ago back in '79

Our parents gave us most shocking news

They told us a baby was on the way

They gave us some interesting clues

When we finally solved the riddle

We were freaked out truth be told

We assumed they were adopting

Since they were so very old

But 'ol Dad still had it 

And Mom was with child

It would be a long hot summer

The heat would not be a bit mild

The big night was to be in August

Which night we did not know

But labor started in the evening

As Mom canned  veggies on the stove

We were dropped at my Great Grandma's

Where we would wait to hear big news

They called in the wee morning hours

And woke us up out of our snooze

Rebecca Jane Clark had arrived in the world

At a weight of a whole 6 big pounds

She was bright red and wrinkley and screaming

The nurses could barely get her calmed down

I heard her first laugh, saw her take her first steps

I changed diapers and outfits galore

She would let only me wash her hair in the tub

I could tell you all so so much more

When I first saw Rebecca in that nursery window

I never could have imagined it then

She would grow up and be more than a sister

She would be one of my dear closest friends

(re-posted from an early FB note, but worth the recycle)  ;)

4-H: Less about the ribbons, more about the experience

4-H projects are being judged right now, as I type!  It reminded me of a note I wrote on Facebook about 4 years ago.  Our family has aged out of 4-H, but I still believe there is truth in these words.

Ribbons and awards are fun, but they should not be the focus for 4H'ers.

It shouldn't matter if all your biscuits are exactly the same size or if your quickbread has a crack in the top.  What does matter is that you learned how to do it.  I was a 10yr 4H'er and took a variety of projects.  Some I won low placing on, like the year my dad told me to mix my biscuit mix like a concrete mixer....you can guess how well that didn't work out.  But there was also the year I got a grand champion ribbon on a fruit pie.

However, where I truly learned to cook/bake was at the hem of mother and grandmother's aprons.  Anytime my great-grandma made bread, she always let my sister and I have our own little bowl of dough to mix and knead too.  My Grandma Clark let us help roll out and cut biscuits.  I watched my GrandmaMother and my mom make countless pies and cakes.  Blackberry, peach, gooseberry, coconut cream, etc.....

And most of all, my mom had one cardinal kitchen rule for us as we were growing up; we could be in the kitchen and try making whatever we wanted, as long as we cleaned up afterwards.

Folks, that is truly how I learned to cook.  I didn't learn to cook for a ribbon, I learned how to cook for a lifetime.

So I wish the best of luck to every 4H'er out there gearing up for the fair next week, but most of all I hope you keep involved with the projects you enjoy and never stop learning.  The ribbons, well, they're just the icing on the cake.  {and yes, that pun was completely intended!}  ;)

Vacation Bible School

It's VBS season here in my neck of the woods.  Today marks the half-way point for our church's VBS. (Hang in there guys, you can do this!)  If you didn't already know this about me, I LOVE VBS.   However, this marks year #4 that I am not there.  I re-entered the full time workforce. {insert the very long face of a seasoned VBS volunteer here}.  And it's not just that I was a volunteer, I was raised on it.

As soon as I was old enough to attend, I was all about it.  I have so many awesome memories of VBS.  Learning new songs, making fun crafts, playing games and hearing about Jesus.  Learning about how He showed grace, love, and mercy.  Soaking in the scripture memory verses and being amazed how the son of God healed the sick, multiplied the fish and bread, and raised people from the dead.  I made sure I had my quarters in my coin purse for the offering, even earning money from my uncles by picking up their beer tabs out of the yard (5 cents a tab!).   Reciting pledges to the American and Christian flags and to the Bible.  Oh, and cookies, always those 2 cookies wrapped nearly military style in a white paper napkin to be enjoyed on the back side of the church under the covered patio.  :D. I was the kid that took her paper song book on vacation later in the summer so that I could remember and keep singing all the neat songs I had learned.  So what if it almost drove my mom to shear madness (Sorry Mom), those were awesome songs based on scripture.

I can look back now and see the many volunteers that it took to make it happen.
Rita, Marilyn, Vickie, Martha,  Bertha, Bonnie, Linda, Jim, Carol, just to name a few of the army that it took to pull it all off. And then there are all those that couldn't attend but were praying.  That's the season I'm in now. The season where I have to admit I've been a bit pouty about; however, it's teaching me to bloom where I'm planted.  My hands and feet cannot be there, but my heart is there without a doubt!  


If you're a VBS volunteer and you're feeling a bit overwhelmed.  If you're not sure that the kids are even listening.  If you think that it might not make a bit of difference, I can tell you this:  It made a difference for me.  
Those kids are listening, they are soaking it in, and you are making a difference! 

 And whatever you do or say, do it as a representative of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through him to God the Father. 
(Colossians 3:17  NLT)

This is a link to one of my favorite VBS songs, while it's not from the paper songbook, it is still pretty awesome. ;)

50 Yards

This morning as I backed out of the garage to head to work I realized that the fog was much thicker than I had anticipated, much!  As I approached the highway from the back road I really thought the fog would not be quite so bad, but it was just as bad on the highway.  Every vehicle on the road was traveling cautiously (thankful).  It was no use trying to see any further than approximately 50 yards out, that's seemed to be the limit on visibility.  So I continued on, a safe distance behind the car in front of me.  I began to relate this to my walk with Christ.  I thought about how He asks us to trust Him, even when we don't know what's coming up on the road ahead.  We can't see the entire journey miles ahead, but He wants to know if we love Him enough to trust Him with the next 50 yards, and then the next 50, and the next.  

I thought about my life in 50 yard segments and realized how they ebbed and flowed.  Some were filled with full bliss and some were completely saturated in grief.  Some 50 yard segments were filled with struggle, some with strife, and some with victory.  Most of them were determined by choices that I had made, but many had been guided by circumstances that I'd had no control over.  

But here's the "thing":  Jesus walked with me through every one of them.  Even when I didn't think He did, even when I felt completely alone in whatever I was dealing with, even when I chose to ignore Him, He did not ignore me.  He was right there the entire time.   Really? you might be asking, how can I know that you might wonder?  Because I believe in His word and it tells me that NOTHING can separate me from the love of God, nothing! (Romans 8)

I want to wrap this post up with some good news.  Some news that someday we'll get to see the whole bazillion yards, the entire ride when we meet Jesus face-to-face in the flesh.  And I'm guessing that when that happens I'll do something like smack my own forehead and say, "Ok, now I get it.  Now I understand why you took me 50 yards at a time."  

12 We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us! 1 Corinthians 13:12 MSG

Britt Nicole "All The Time"