Lenten Journal Day 11

Please read my blog entry for my conversation with Kelly.

Right after I had that conversation with my youngest son, Kelly, I wrote that blog entry. Funny how God waits for me to break down and agree to His terms before He acts. He does that to me a lot. It is almost predictable that the moment I finally listen to Him, He gives me a gift of hope or understanding or joy. In the next instant this time, He gave me hope, and a feeling of confidence that all will be well. I still don't have full understanding, but I'm jumping ahead, and y'all don't know what I'm talking about!

Friday night I had that conversation, and I wrote it down for my blog the next day. Saturday morning my real estate agent in Rock Hill called. I had left her a message earlier in the week saying that I did not want to look at any more houses until I could buy one and that when I sold my house, I would call. I was canceling my appointment with her. So she called me back, on Saturday morning, which I did not expect, to tell me I had made the right decision. The house I had planned to see sold immediately. But she had more news. Another home that I asked her to look into awhile ago is for sale, and the owner would like for us to come look at it even if we can't buy it. She would love to have a family like ours in the neighborhood (she lives two doors down), and is willing to work with us. Then that same afternoon, a St. Joseph statue arrived in our mailbox. Michael's mom sent it to us with the instructions on how to use him to help bless the sale of our home. Legend has it that if you bury St. Joseph upside down with his feet pointing to heaven and his face towards your home, and you pray over him, your home will sell. As thanksgiving you are to display him in a place of honor in your next home. As we read the prayer, it said that St. Joseph's feast day is March 19th, the day he arrived and we buried him. It was fun and joyful and prayerful for the whole family to dig a hole under the "for sale" sign and bury St. Joseph.

I love that the moment I gave up my plans to God, Michael and I got invited to view a home we can't buy and that St. Joseph showed up in our mailbox on his own feast day. I asked Michael why I was agreeing to drive to Rock Hill to see this house when we still have to sell one here. He told me to stop asking questions and just enjoy the ride. So I will. I go tomorrow.

Saint Joseph (You know, Jesus's Dad)
Patron of Workers


Glorious St. Joseph, you are the pattern of all who work. Obtain for me, please, the grace to work conscientiously and to put devotion to duty before my selfish inclinations. Help me to labor in thankfulness and joy, for it is an honor to employ and to develop by my labor the gifts I have received from almighty God. Grant that I may work in orderliness, peace, moderation and patience without shrinking from weariness and difficulties. I offer my fatigue and perplexities as reparation for sin. I shall work, above all, with a pure intention and with detachment from self, having always before my eyes the hour of death and the accounting which I must to render of time ill-spent, of talents unemployed, of good undone, and of empty pride in success, which is so fatal to the work of God.
For Jesus through Mary, all in imitation of you, good St. Joseph. This shall be my motto in life and in death.

Lenten Journal Day 10

I know I seem to write about my kids more often than not, but I think they are a major way in which God speaks to me. This time God chose Kelly to pass on a very important message. Here's our conversation:

Kelly - If I pray really hard for a BIG pile of legos to appear right ....here (pointing to the carpet) will God give them to me? I really want a BIG (arms opened as wide as he can get them) pile of legos!



Me - I don't think it works that way, Kelly. Do I think God is powerful enough to get you those legos? Yes. Do I think he's going to? Probably not. He might. But he also might have other plans for you today, and they don't necessarily include a BIG pile of legos magically appearing in front of you.



Kelly - (Quiet for awhile, twirling and standing on his head, then pausing) I still believe in God. Even if I don't get legos. And I still believe in Jesus.

Here's the thing. I've been turning God into Santa Claus in my mind. I don't mean to, but I have been doing it without even realizing it. I want to move. I am ready to get on with our new life in Rock Hill. And in my obsessive personality, I have been rushing prematurely towards a move that is not yet planned. I keep thinking that if I pray hard enough, God will give me my dream home in Rock Hill. And I keep waiting for my present. I keep treating each night like it's Christmas Eve, and each new day like a kid who's been given coal when nothing in my world happens. I keep waiting. Of course, waiting is really not the correct word. Nor is praying. Nail biting, worrying, panic inducing, obsessing is a much more accurate description of what has been going on in my mind. I've also been irritated with God for not playing out his Santa Claus role in my set time frame.

I didn't realize any of this until I had the above conversation with Kelly. When I reread those words and inserted house for legos , I realized my folly. I haven't been believing and loving and trusting no matter what. I have simply been making demands and then waiting to see them come true. And that behavior is not real faith. Real faith comes from Kelly's wisdom - believing in God and Jesus no matter what they give me. Accepting them as Truth. No if's. No and's. No but's. Just accepting that they are.

The Truth.

The Light.

Whether I get my BIG house (any house) or not.

Lenten Journal Day 9

So I just went to Walgreens to pick up a prescription, and I ran into a couple of women from my church. Forest Acres is just a small town tucked into one corner of Columbia. May I add that I was in old yoga pants a size or so too small, drugstore flip flops, and a decent t shirt complete with necklace to take the attention off my yoga (pajama) pants? I should have known I was going to run into at least one person. Anyway, while standing in the parking lot with these lovely ladies, we witnessed a wreck. It wasn't a bad one. A guy was pulling into a parking space when a woman in a neighboring car opened her door to get out. He hit her door, crunching it, and busted out a light on his car. He immediately bolted towards anger, repeatedly yelling at the woman and asking her, "Really???" She stood obviously a bit intimidated and shaken up that she had almost been run over. He never once saw any fault with himself, all the while appearing unstable and ranting about his headlight. Meanwhile she continued to stand there, unable to close her door, and trying to figure out how to better her situation. So, we walked over, and we suggested she call the police to file a report. He said there was no need, since she could pay for his light and that they were on private property, it being a parking lot and all.

We told her to call anyway. We were all thinking, "Umm, yeah, buddy, you're screaming at someone you almost ran over, so we can certainly understand why she would refuse help all the while agreeing to pay for your damaged light....come again?"

She was already dialing as he presented his convincing argument that no police be involved. Once she had an officer on that handy little cell phone, he got much quieter and went into the store to get his prescription. He wasn't my favorite character in this particular situation. But I can't judge him either.

Because, when I'm honest, how many times have I turned to anger, blinded by my part in a situation? How many times have I chosen being right over being civil? How many times have I defended my position rather than worked to solve a problem?

This entire morning reminds me of a definition of anger that I try to keep close when I feel frustration rising up.

Anger = Not getting my way

That guy's day was not going his way, that's for sure. He needed some sort of drug, which means he was already not feeling well in one way or another. His day had just suddenly been delayed. He was wearing work clothes. Now his car needed repairs. And he took it all out on this one lady. How many times have I taken out mounting frustration in one fell swoop?

I really don't have answers. All I can say, is he looked ugly this morning. I know there have been times I have looked plenty ugly myself. (And I'm not talking about the yoga pants.) And seeing him show himself in such a way made me get calmer. It made me not want to be like him. So on this journey for lent where I have agreed to if not give up anger, to at least keep it in check, I will picture him. My example of what anger looks like. And I gotta tell you, I really don't want to look that way. ever. again.

Lenten Journal Day 8

In honor of St. Patrick's Day, I figured it would be a good day to share lyrics of a famous Christian songwriter and singer from Ireland. Robin Mark is one of my all time favorites. I might be biased, given that Michael, my husband, is a drummer and had the unique opportunity to play his drums in concert with Robin not once, but twice.



When It's All Been Said and Done

by Robin Mark


When it's all been said and done
There is just one thing that matters
Did I do my best to live for truth?
Did I live my life for you?

When it's all been said and done
All my treasures will mean nothing
Only what I have done
For love's rewards
Will stand the test of time

Lord, your mercy is so great
That you look beyond our weakness
That you found purest gold in miry clay
Turning sinners into saints

I will always sing your praise
Here on earth and in heaven after
For you've joined me at my true home
When it's all been said and done
You're my life when life is gone.

Lenten Journal Day 7

So, this writing every day thing is getting to be a mixed up bowl of blessings. It's a good exercise, but truthfully, I don't always feel like writing. However, I promised God I would, and as my mom loved to say, "Patrish, the road to hell is paved with good intentions." (Imagine it being said in a southern accent, coolots, and a polo reading, Cox's Hallmark Bazaar.)

So, if I don't want to help on paving the road directly to the devil, I must keep up my promise. But seriously.

The only thing striking me today spiritually is my gratefulness for Jesus. For what His life and death means for Christians. It means we get a God that is all powerful, and yet like no other God among our world religions. He extends grace. (I didn't think this up on my own. It's in a book called What's So Amazing About Grace by Philip Yancey.) In the past couple of weeks I have been reminded that in my little bubble called the bible belt, I am usually sheltered from outside religions. While my shelter provides me a safe haven, there can be times when this is not a good thing, in my opinion. The more educated we become of what's outside our immediate surroundings, I believe the more aware we become of our differences and similarities. These experiences make us more compassionate and understanding, they give each culture new richness, and I also believe we become more appreciative when we arrive back home.

My son, Key, has a precious friend I will name Fred (just keepin' the real name private, being that he's not my child) that I absolutely adore. Key keeps telling me Fred is not perfect, but I beg to differ. He really is just precious. Seriously. Tall, skinny, preppy with glasses, gangly legs and arms, good manners, and smart. He also has the same eight year old boy humor as my son which I personally find hilarious. And Fred - dear child - is Hindu. He's been a wonderful addition to my son's experience with the world outside of South Carolina. Fred goes to spend summers in India with his grandparents, and they come here to visit for long periods of time. And Key gets swept up with them as if he is one of their own. He loves it. So one day on the way to church, Key says to us, "Dad, Fred had to be good in school all week. He couldn't get any marks because he has to go to temple, and the gods will be angry if he gets marks in school." I think my heart stopped for a second. And in that moment, I wanted Fred in our car so I could sweep him up and tell him he's just a boy. It's okay to mess up. It's one of the big ways we learn. I know Fred's parents well, and they are gentle, kind people. But the gods that keep a checklist are a part of their culture. So my husband talked with Key about how Jesus would feel if Key got a mark at school. We talked about Jesus forgiving us when we mess up. About how Jesus doesn't keep a checklist. All I could think was how I want Fred to know he's loved - no matter what - and how thankful I am that I know about a different God and His unending grace.

Grace, mercy, and peace will be with us from God the Father and from Jesus Christ, the Father's Son, in truth and love.

2 John 3

Lenten Journal Day 6

Today I ask a favor of you. Most of you know that my house is for sale. I picked my real estate agent by visiting open houses in the neighborhood, scouting out competition. When I first met Bruce, I did not know we were moving, but I did know it was a possibility, and since I have an obsessive personality, I immediately started doing research. He was the one that was nice, and honest, and not pushy. We became acquaintances, and he was helpful even before we knew what we would be doing. And so, when the time came to sell our home, we picked Bruce.

Then, the week he was to come over and list our home, he called to say that he was in the hospital. Bruce is a leukemia survivor, and the disease had come back. We waited, but he did not get out of the hospital. So, he sent over a friend, Bob Wilkins, who is now our real estate agent. He's also great, by the way. Bruce has been in and out of the hospital since last November receiving chemo. In his off time he has continued to work, and has been very kind in hosting open houses for us.

Today, Bruce goes in the hospital to receive more chemo and prepare for his bone marrow transplant. The transplant will happen next week. Here's my favor. Please add him to your prayer list. I know he'd be grateful. I also had a thought this morning that the wait that my family is going through for our move is hard. It really is. Some times I wait more patiently than other times. But my wait cannot even start to compare with the wait Bruce goes through in battling leukemia. So please pray for him as you see fit. I personally pray for healing and also for a restful heart. I pray for his whole family as they all wait together.

Lenten Journal Day 5

Perseverance.

Last fall, my son, Key, started playing club soccer. For their first eleven - yes, eleven - games together as a team, they lost. So you can understand my joy in watching his team come from that start last fall to this past weekend where they just won their first tournament. These boys worked so hard, and kept playing, and kept playing, and steadily improved. And this weekend, they won, and then won again, and finished by winning the whole darn thing. Key wore his medal to school today. I keep getting teary eyed I'm so happy for him. You know what he said? "I love soccer! I'm never gonna quit playing! Never, ever!"

I could go on and on telling you sweet stories from this weekend. I pray for the goalie that lost in sudden death and at the same time rejoice for the team that won because they are our friends. I am so impressed beyond words by the kids with casts on their legs that sat in uniform with their teams, and I especially loved seeing one of our SCUFC players that had the flu come to sit to watch the final match and support his buddies, his teammates.

These boys exemplify perseverance. And as one of the mommas losing her voice on the sidelines, it's just beautiful. I learn from their example every weekend. Seriously.

He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the Lord
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.

Isaiah 40:30-31