Who is God to You Today?

A few weeks ago I attended a conference.  Fern Nichols of Mom's In Prayer International was the featured speaker.  My recollection and impression of a particular message may not be exactly verbatim but I will try to summarize what I took away and applied to my life.  

When you pray and declare to God a character trait such as God, the Healer, be ready for the test.  Once you tell God that He is something in your life, He may and most likely will test you.  

Indeed!  Immediately during the weekend this was proven to be true.  During one of the sessions we corporately praised God and exclaimed how He is Jehovah-Rapha (The Lord you're Healer, Exod 15:26).  The following morning, I awoke to check the time, rolling over to the pain of a headache that was the type to turn into a incapacitating migraine.  I prayed immediately, again extolling God as my Jehovah-Rapha.  I left my healing to Him.  I prayed that I knew He was capable and even willing to heal me immediately, but I would be content to stay in bed at this great retreat if that is what would bring Glory to Him.  I dozed again for a few minutes and awoke to a pain free head!  God had tested me, heard my prayer, and healed me instantly.  

I thought, "Wow, I passed the test.  A+, pat on the back, yeah God."  My faith grew abundantly in that moment.  I celebrated my small victory and went about my life.  Now, four weeks later, I am going about my business as usual which includes being a wife, mom, homemaker, friend, and ladies bible study student.  I diligently worked on my homework a day before the next meeting.  I pondered the following from Genesis 16:13:

El Roi - the God who sees: He sees me when no else cares to looks. He sees through the smile we wear when we're dying inside. He sees our hurt when we're mistreated. He sees us when we cry into our pillow because we feel unloved. He see beyond our sin into the depth of our need. He sees when we're hiding. Running. He sees when we continue to sow the seed of His Word even in the floodplain of our grief. - - Beth Moore

Did I declare and praise God as El Roi?  Not in the manner of praying on my knees, hand raised type of declaration.  But the phrase impacted me so deeply, I posted it as a Facebook status.  My mind returned to El Roi, the God who sees me.  I thought about Hagar, the hand maiden of Sarai who gave Abram a son and then banished with her infant.  She met God and declared Him El Roi.  So yes, I did declare God El Roi in my life.  I should have known to be ready for the test.  I forgot that bit of detail in my ever learning walk with God.




The test has not been easy.  It impacted more than myself.   My entire family has gone through pain this past week.  We have been hurt, confused, frustrated, and even angry.  We have felt mistreated, smiled while hurting, felt unloved, and tears have flowed down our faces.  

Is God El Roi?  The God who sees me in the floodplain of my grief?  I have pondered this over and over as I worked through my emotions.  And you know what?  God met me.  My pain is still real, my hurt is deep.  Unfortunately, my anger has not completely abated.  But God has met me.  He is the one who gently reminded me that He is El Roi - the God who sees.  I have not been alone.  He has soothed my wound as the pain ached my heart, He has reminded me the mercy He has extended me when my anger has overflowed, He has provided me human shoulders to cry upon.  He has been the God who sees, the God who has seen my pain, the God that has not turned away from my human mess of emotions.

This has not been easy. My faith journey has impacted my family and given opportunity for all of us to learn.  Learn that God is El Roi - the God who sees; to learn forgiveness, to learn mercy, to learn that God is God.

Who is God to you today?  

Family is Family

For several days I have wallowed in a myriad of thoughts and emotions.    Many times I set out to write something.  I have come up empty.  I could not write a Facebook status or a prayer request to our church's prayer chain.  My heart aches.  It has a heaviness that profound sadness produces.  This ache is borne of empathy, deep empathy for my cousin.

I have been side blinded by the depth of feeling.  It has left me speechless.  If you know me the least bit, you would realize that this is a rare occurrence. 

I discovered in this process, that family, however remote or unknown, is family.    I have  cousins on the west coast.  I have met all of them during my childhood, but have not met all the spouses nor children.    I have not seen any of them for many years, more than 20 years have passed.  We have all grown up, married, are raising families.    The miles continue to separate us.

This week, one of these families, has suffered a devastating loss.  The death of their oldest son, just 25 years old.  I did not have the opportunity to meet this young man.  I have not had the opportunity to meet his siblings or his father.  I don't even recall the last time I met his mother, my cousin.  Of this family of cousins, she is the least known to me.   Regardless, my heart is broken for this family who is grieving. 

I grieve with them many, many miles away.  I grieve the loss of life.  I am a parent which has given me perspective and empathy for a grieving parent.  It is not  right for a parent to bury their child.  The tears flow freely, the prayers are earnest, the virtual hug is extended, love is sent.  I have grieved and had empathy for several who are not family.  But the depth of emotion was not as deep.  It must be because family is family.   It connects us, bonds us, knits us together.  RIP dear 2nd cousin who has left this world much to early in life.  I hope to meet you in Heaven one day.

The King, The Gift, Her Heart

She was given a gift, a precious gift from her King.  Strong yet not unbreakable, beautiful and perfect yet easily marred, valuable yet meant to be shared, personal and unique.  The King told her it was precious, created just for her.  She is to keep is safe.  No one can take it from her unless she gives it to them, either the entire gift or pieces of it.  The King instructed her to be wise in sharing her gift yet not hoard it selfishly.  He told her he would be willing to help her but she would need to serve him forever.  She declined, wanting to be free.  He loved her so much, he let her go.

She took her precious gift, named it her heart.  She kept it with her at all times, safe in her bosom.  Initially, she shared it with everyone, so proud of her perfect, precious gift.  Others shared their hearts with her, she noticed that they were not perfect like hers, they were marred, chipped, cracked, glued, and patched.  Her heart was a thing of beauty in its perfection.

As time went by, someone scratched her heart with harsh words, another deeper gash developed by disappointment of not making the team of her beloved sport.  When her grandmother died, her heart developed a hole.  A dear friend moved away leaving another smaller hole.  Another friend told lies about her causing a crack.  She began to guard her heart, being more wary of showing it to everyone she met.  She started to become more discerning to whom she showed her heart.

Over time more cracks, chips, and holes developed.  These were filled with other precious gems such as a lady she adopted as a grandmother who gave her a beautiful ruby to fill the hole her own grandmother's death had left in her heart.  The cracks were smoothed over, the chips filled in with other bits and pieces.  Her heart was no longer perfect but still beautiful in its own unique way.  She began to realize her heart was much like the other less than perfect hearts she has been showed throughout her journey. 

As time went on she noticed her heart changed colors as she loved and care for others.  The deeper the love the more it glowed, but also the more fragile it became when loving so deeply.  She shared her glowing heart with those she loved, showing them how it shimmered when near them.  Each special person made it glow and shimmer in a unique way.  Sometimes its weight would change as well. 

One day, when it was glowing and shimmering with love and admiration, another came along and carelessly shoved her heart.  It went soaring through the air.  She ran trying to catch it, losing sight of it in the blinding light of searing pain, but onward she ran trying to catch it, buffer it's fall somehow.  But in the blinding light it was lost and it her heart fell on the hard pavement, shattering into a million tiny pieces.  She fell to her knees, how disappointed the King would be in her if he knew how she allowed someone to destroy her gift.

She made dark curtains and built solid walls around the shattered pieces to ensure she could gather them all before others could scatter them.  In tears and in the near dark she gathered the tiny pieces.  The edges sharp, cutting her fingers, the beauty gone.  She declared no one would see her heart again, if she ever could get it back together. 

Piece by piece, bit by bit, she fit the pieces together.  She sought out glue of comfort, peace, but some pieces would not stay together when combined with bitterness.  She had to find forgiveness, she had to extend grace.  She learned these helped smooth out the edges, create a better fit, form a good bind.  Her heart remained so fragile in the dark, it would not glow, it would not shine.  Eventually, she learned she had to let the light in, be brave to share her gift again to restore her heart, her forever damaged heart.

Slowly, with trepidation, shaking, she took out a piece of wall.  Just lowering it a bit.  She exchanged the dark curtains for lighter curtains.  She saw her heart begin to flicker.  Trembling, she dared to remove one wall and exchange a heavy curtain for shear drapes.  Oh her heart began to glow.  It took time, lots of time for the walls to be removed, exchanged for a hedge with a gate.  Eventually all the heavy curtains were exchanged for shear drapes.  A panel or two of drapes were completely removed.  Her heart pulsed with colors, glowing brightly through the cracks, the holes, the chips, the patches.  She discovered her heart was more beautiful than ever.

Cautiously, with shame for her imperfect gift, she returned to the King.  Afraid he would be displeased with her care of the heart, trembling and tearful, she showed it to him.  The king, dried her tears, hugged her close, and soothed her with kind words.  He took her heart, told her that if she would allow him to keep it, he would be able to fix the unfixable parts, and help her protect it.  What a revelation!  Gladly she lifted the burden of her heart and placed them in the King's hands.  He gently took it, he examined it closely, he located the parts that she had been unable to fix.    In his workshop, he carefully restored the brokenness, removed the heavy pieces yet left the imperfections.  Then he returned her lighter heart to her.  Instructed her to look to him for protection.  Promising to be with her if she would trust him and serve him.  As she declared her allegiance to do so, her heart lost all remaining heaviness and shimmered more beautifully than ever dreamed.  She mourned the years she did not trust the King but determined to remain in his presence for eternity.  For there is nothing better than the safety of the King.

County Fair Judging - try not to melt

Since, I am on a roll, three blog posts in three days.  How about number four?  I am not certain I can maintain this pace but willing to roll with it while it lasts.

It is hot, yet the temperature is not extreme.  High 80s, low 90s is not extreme temperatures in my book.  But the humidity is high, making it miserable.  The summer season in Minnesota is short so I try, really I do try, to make the best of it.  I prefer short, t-shirts, sandals, no jacket to long underwear, three additional layers, parka, boots, hat, mittens, scarf, and pocket warmers.  It is much easier to dash out with out 20 pounds of clothing.  But the humidity ... I could do with a bit less, please.

Summer, County Fair time in this place where I live.  I have found a new role as a 4-H project judge.  This means I *get* to sit in steel, airless buildings for 7-8 hours oohing and aahing over a child's project, asking questions, encouraging him/her, and rewarding him/her with ribbons.

This year I am judging Cloverbud projects.  These are the Kindergarten through 3rd graders.  Each child gets a participation ribbon at this age.  Most are so excited to be there and enter their item in the fair.  You can see the thrill in their faces as they tell me how they colored, painted, glued their masterpiece.  The pride displayed as they tell me about their favorite animal including all the interesting facts.  Some are shy requiring gentle persuasion to talk to me, others are simply so cute I would give them a ribbon for just talking to me, no project required.  Picture pig tailed, sweet smiling little girls and energetic, freshly bathed little boys. Is this not the best job in the world?  Mind you I am melting in the humidity, sure that my hair is frizzy as parents take our picture to commemorate the experience.

It is all about the experience for the child.  I get an experience too and learn a few new things in the process.  Such as, spiders have 8 eyes as well as 8 legs, pumpkin bread made from scratch is tastier than from a box, grandmas are really good at threading sewing machines, big brothers are extremely helpful in building rockets, Lego creations are fun to build, elementary art teachers are awesome, and tree kangaroos live in the rain forest and look really cuddly.

So today I make way to my third fair this summer.  I can hardly wait to try the delicious treats made, see the beautiful pictures colored, learn about another exotic animal, and learn how to care for a pet fish.  I am hoping to melt off a few pounds in the humidity - - I may be lucky as it is raining today. Who knows, maybe I'll require a second layer. Then again, probably not, this is the county fair, it would break tradition.

I blame it on the climate

July in Minnesota.  Minnesota, not MinneSNOWta.  Contrary to popular belief it does not snow and remain cold 365 days a year.  No, indeed, rather we freeze in the winter months which are long and sometimes endless.  But in the summer, the pendulum swings and we enter extreme humidity and heat.  Whereby we are steamed until well-done.

Indeed, winter can see 30 below and colder but summer can see 100 (above) and hotter.  Add in some humidity and it is miserable.  When the dew point is above 60 degrees it is sticky, above 70 degrees the air is oppressive.  In the winter, the dew point is not a factor at all.  There are times we can walk out and all the hairs in the nose are instantly frozen, your lungs freeze, the shock of the dry, cold air literally takes your breath away.

In winter, daylight is scarce.  Seeing the sun for just meager hours.  Lights in the house are an absolute necessity between the hours of 4pm to 9am.  Sometimes all day due to clouds and gray skies.  Yet when the sun shines brilliantly off the snow it can be a dazzling array of light to blind you.  In the summer, the sun is blinding bright, rising at 5am and setting at 10pm.  We keep curtains closed to either keep heat in or keep heat out, depending on the season.

So this is where I live.  An individual that is not overly in love with change.  Yet I live in a land of extreme climates.  This is explains the wild swings in my personality.  Yep, that has to be it.  I blame it all on the climate in which I live.

Soap Box - - Political Angst

I have a soap box that I try to not step upon and begin to pontificate.  However, I believe this is where I am about to lose that self control to stay planted on the ground and keep quiet.  My soap box is my angst and disgust of the current political process.  As we move toward the next presidential election my angst, thus my soap box, grows exponentially.  DISCLAIMER:  I do not claim that this makes sense, I do not have a solution other than for people to be honest, truthful, authentic (this usually solves most issues), this is my point of view through angst colored glasses.  I am not attempting to start a debate, figure out who or what is right or wrong, I am mainly venting my angst, wishing for something different, realizing it won't be, point of view. 

Perhaps it begins in a small child's dream. Here in America we are encouraged to dream, dream to become anything, do anything, anything is possible.  This is the land of dreams.  The rags to riches land of dreams.  Poorest of poor to richest of rich.  From a nobody to a somebody.  This belief is the foundations of the country. 

Perhaps this small child dreams of being in a place of influence, a place of power.  Oh power, that is a dangerous tiger to tame.   "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely"  John Emerich Edward Dalberg Acton, first Baron Acton (1834–1902)    The dream is likely innocent, true, and good.  A dream to make a difference in the world, make a difference for good.  The child as he grows realizes he (or she, but for ease of writing I will use the generic gender of he) could add value.  It is a beautiful, lovely dream.  But now for the ugly reality.  The political process is distasteful.  It continues on for months and months, years really.  There is party alignment, name calling, investigations to destroy, lies, and secrets.

I find it extremely ugly to set out to win an election by destroying the opponent with sensationalism, intentionally finding their faults, mistakes, sins; exposing them without any grace for who the person is today.  Compounded by the tendency to then disclaim your own faults and brush off, claiming to now be a virtuous person.  I often wonder why I care if the person tried drugs in youth, or participated in stupid act as a young person.  I was once young and stupid too.  I have grown up, I have matured, I have realized I was once young and stupid.  Quite possibly, these youthful indiscretions that have been overcome, have shaped and molded the individual into being the best candidate.  Do we really want a protected, naive, never experienced hardship, trials, empty vessel?  I do not care necessarily about the seemingly horrible act or experience in as much in how the individual overcame them, responded to crisis, learned from the experience(s).  This tells me so much more.  So expose those skeletons willingly and show me how you cope, what you learned, how it has made you into a great person today.  

I fail to understand how during some elections, most noticeably in primaries, candidates will tear apart each other of the same party in an effort to win the affections of the people.  I am amazed then how they will 'unite' and support each other once the top candidate is named.  I am more appalled in the then expectation of  me to now trust said candidate.  I just gagged in my mouth.  Really?  Sorry, your true character glowed through the heated, ugly words and actions toward your "team members" otherwise known as party. 

Now that party has been brought up, my soap box gets a little bigger.  My angst of 'party lines', partisan, non-partisan, bi-partisan.  It is all a bunch of hooey if you ask me.  Republican, Democrat, Tea Party, Independent, Grass Roots, whatever. You know what I want to see?  I want someone, ideally a group of someones (poor grammar - sorry grammar police), with true character and honesty.  Someone who will align himself with others to make good policy not because of party affiliations.  Frankly, parties need to disappear in my humble opinion.  I want someone who will research out the issue, seek out wise counsel, not be swayed by briberies.  Listen to lobbyists, on both sides of issues, take the time to figure out the best course of action.  I want someone who will stand on their decision not because he is of "this party or that party", but because it is the "right and good thing".  There have been a few that have tried to take this route.  But money becomes an issue.  Parties have money, supporters who demand favors have money.  Money corrupts as well as power.

Most of my angst has been vented.  My soap box must now diminish, it isn't serving much purpose.  Frankly it has quite of few holes for others to pull it apart.  Remember my disclaimer.  I will not argue with you.  It is a frustrated view point, without solutions.  Thanks for listening.