A few days ago in a phone conversation, my father kindly let me know that my best friend, my go to gal, the one I call first when needing to vent, my sister, Carol, does not read my blog. (I'm trying to make her feel bad, so if you talk to her, you can tell her all that I've said so far.) She also wanted to know what the title of this blog even means, anyway. Hmm...
What does it mean?
Well, I started writing in order to sort out and tell my story about making a station of the cross and about my talks with God. Two years ago I had an incredible journey where my relationship with Christ grew and where I truly felt God's presence - strongly. So last year when I set out wanting to repeat the experience as I made another station of the cross, I started by writing. Getting it down. That was blog entry number one.
Since then, I have kept it spiritual in nature because it's just better that way. I have continued to write mainly because it helps me sort out thoughts, share realizations with friends, and act as a journal of sorts. Since I am not good at finishing handwritten journals, by making this blog I am keeping a record.
For the name, well, it goes back to the first entry. Both stations I made involved sewing. Creative sewing. Without patterns. Lots of cloth. Lots of color. Freehand. And yet, my favorite piece of cloth is really just a bandanna. Just a simple square. Useful. Whimsical. At times necessary. Hence the title - Bandannas and Cloth.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Lenten Journal Day 19
The Day I Got Saved....
It happened a long time ago, up on a hill, between two other guys....
I don't actually have a story for the day or moment or revelation of when or how I was saved. Growing up, my Sunday school teacher told us to tell people it happened a couple thousand years ago. I happened to be Episcopalian in a small town in the middle of the bible belt where being saved was important. There were rallies at school and whole hoards of kids would run down front to get saved by some visiting youth pastor for Young Life. The First Baptist Church always had a youth director at the football games and school activities. Being saved meant being a part of a group. I was a part of the rebellious crowd. The Catholics and Episcopalians.
Since we (the Catholics and Episcopalians) did not want to sit scattered on the bleachers every week at FCA while the rest of the student body joined in the middle of the gym to denounce Satan, we all joined the chess club. Under normal circumstances I would not admit such a social suicide, but in Maryville, it was the only way to avoid the weekly savings. Of souls. Many of my friends loved going to FCA. But not me.
This question - When were you saved? - has always made me uncomfortable. The Baptists of my life don't like the, "Well, you see, a couple thousand years ago, there was this guy named Jesus. Turned out He was God, and God's son, and He ...." That answer is just not enough.
Then, a few years ago, I went to an Alpha course. For those of you that don't know what I'm talking about, click here. In the course there was a description of my question, "When were you saved?" The speaker's answer - Imagine riding on a train and dozing off. When you fell asleep you were in one country, but while you were sleeping, the train crossed a border and when you woke up, you were in a new country. While you can't account for the exact moment it happened, you know without a doubt you are in a new place.
This explanation helped, but it still didn't do it for me completely.
Next, I heard a sermon at my current church. A Bishop from Rwanda was speaking. (I go to an Anglican Church that is actually an African mission church under the Diocese of Rwanda. So this would be normal for us.) This bishop answered the same question again.
I listened on the edge of my seat.
He said for some, it is a moment. They can feel it. It is an experience.
For a few, they have no recollection. The those few, they are raised in the church and accept Christ. Their parents raised them to be believers, and they followed.
Imagine a road with Christians walking in one direction. Towards Christ. Non believers are walking the same road, but in the other direction. Away from Christ. Those that turn, and start walking towards Christ remember. Those that are born on the side of the road and continue in the same direction don't remember ever facing the other way. At first, as a baby, they are carried, then hold the hand of a parent, then eventually walk on their own. But always, always, they move towards Christ.
In my life, I have always faced in the direction of Christ. I was one of those born on the side of the road. I have had plenty of times I have looked back. I have talked with those, loved those, walking in the other direction. But while I have slowed or stopped to rest or considered the opposite way, I have not turned. Away. From Christ.
The part I absolutely adore, is Christ uses us all. The ones that turn towards Him, the ones that turn away, only to retrace steps, the ones that stop and question, the ones that whine, or march, or run, or crawl. He uses each of us to guide the other. We pass each other on this road. Sometimes we walk side by side. But wherever we are, we are all on the same road together. Believers and non believers. Old and young.
So now I'm ready to try this again...
Question - When did I get saved?
Answer - I don't know. I was born facing Christ, and while there are plenty of times I probably appear to be sticking out my tongue or complaining or turning round and round in circles or causing trouble in the ranks, I'm still aiming in that general direction.
Thank goodness He still offers me grace and even comes to walk beside me and guide my way.
Otherwise I'd totally be lost by now...
Seriously.
It happened a long time ago, up on a hill, between two other guys....
I don't actually have a story for the day or moment or revelation of when or how I was saved. Growing up, my Sunday school teacher told us to tell people it happened a couple thousand years ago. I happened to be Episcopalian in a small town in the middle of the bible belt where being saved was important. There were rallies at school and whole hoards of kids would run down front to get saved by some visiting youth pastor for Young Life. The First Baptist Church always had a youth director at the football games and school activities. Being saved meant being a part of a group. I was a part of the rebellious crowd. The Catholics and Episcopalians.
Since we (the Catholics and Episcopalians) did not want to sit scattered on the bleachers every week at FCA while the rest of the student body joined in the middle of the gym to denounce Satan, we all joined the chess club. Under normal circumstances I would not admit such a social suicide, but in Maryville, it was the only way to avoid the weekly savings. Of souls. Many of my friends loved going to FCA. But not me.
This question - When were you saved? - has always made me uncomfortable. The Baptists of my life don't like the, "Well, you see, a couple thousand years ago, there was this guy named Jesus. Turned out He was God, and God's son, and He ...." That answer is just not enough.
Then, a few years ago, I went to an Alpha course. For those of you that don't know what I'm talking about, click here. In the course there was a description of my question, "When were you saved?" The speaker's answer - Imagine riding on a train and dozing off. When you fell asleep you were in one country, but while you were sleeping, the train crossed a border and when you woke up, you were in a new country. While you can't account for the exact moment it happened, you know without a doubt you are in a new place.
This explanation helped, but it still didn't do it for me completely.
Next, I heard a sermon at my current church. A Bishop from Rwanda was speaking. (I go to an Anglican Church that is actually an African mission church under the Diocese of Rwanda. So this would be normal for us.) This bishop answered the same question again.
I listened on the edge of my seat.
He said for some, it is a moment. They can feel it. It is an experience.
For a few, they have no recollection. The those few, they are raised in the church and accept Christ. Their parents raised them to be believers, and they followed.
Imagine a road with Christians walking in one direction. Towards Christ. Non believers are walking the same road, but in the other direction. Away from Christ. Those that turn, and start walking towards Christ remember. Those that are born on the side of the road and continue in the same direction don't remember ever facing the other way. At first, as a baby, they are carried, then hold the hand of a parent, then eventually walk on their own. But always, always, they move towards Christ.
In my life, I have always faced in the direction of Christ. I was one of those born on the side of the road. I have had plenty of times I have looked back. I have talked with those, loved those, walking in the other direction. But while I have slowed or stopped to rest or considered the opposite way, I have not turned. Away. From Christ.
The part I absolutely adore, is Christ uses us all. The ones that turn towards Him, the ones that turn away, only to retrace steps, the ones that stop and question, the ones that whine, or march, or run, or crawl. He uses each of us to guide the other. We pass each other on this road. Sometimes we walk side by side. But wherever we are, we are all on the same road together. Believers and non believers. Old and young.
So now I'm ready to try this again...
Question - When did I get saved?
Answer - I don't know. I was born facing Christ, and while there are plenty of times I probably appear to be sticking out my tongue or complaining or turning round and round in circles or causing trouble in the ranks, I'm still aiming in that general direction.
Thank goodness He still offers me grace and even comes to walk beside me and guide my way.
Otherwise I'd totally be lost by now...
Seriously.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Lenten Journal Day 18
Today, instead of writing my own thoughts, I figured I'd share some of my favorite blog sites. Maybe you can enjoy them with me...
1. http://www.incourage.me/ - This one has various guest writers each day. They also introduce themselves thru one of the tabs. There are lots of great women there, and their blogs are a fun way to spend a morning.
2. Proverbs 31 ministries - This one has good daily devotionals. The women writing here also have good individual blogs.
3. A Holy Experience - Ann VosKamp. Amazing writer. This is a wonderful place to drink your morning coffee. Seriously.
4. Endure and Shine - This one is a hard one. A friend, Paul Edel, wrote here. He passed away a few months ago, and his journey to heaven is chronicled on his blog. It's beautiful, the blog offers resources, but take a box of tissue with you to this special place. He died three weeks after he wrote his last entry.
These are just a few that I enjoy visiting. I love to play around, and there are lots of different places to go in this blog world. Feel free to share back.
See you here tomorrow!
"I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."
1. http://www.incourage.me/ - This one has various guest writers each day. They also introduce themselves thru one of the tabs. There are lots of great women there, and their blogs are a fun way to spend a morning.
2. Proverbs 31 ministries - This one has good daily devotionals. The women writing here also have good individual blogs.
3. A Holy Experience - Ann VosKamp. Amazing writer. This is a wonderful place to drink your morning coffee. Seriously.
4. Endure and Shine - This one is a hard one. A friend, Paul Edel, wrote here. He passed away a few months ago, and his journey to heaven is chronicled on his blog. It's beautiful, the blog offers resources, but take a box of tissue with you to this special place. He died three weeks after he wrote his last entry.
These are just a few that I enjoy visiting. I love to play around, and there are lots of different places to go in this blog world. Feel free to share back.
See you here tomorrow!
Random verse for the day
Paul to the
Philippians 1:3-6
Paul to the
Philippians 1:3-6
"I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."
Monday, March 28, 2011
Lenten Journal Day 17
One of my favorite verses -
John 16:33
"I have told you these things, so that you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."
"I have told you these things, so that you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."
Y'all that have been keeping up know that we planted St. Joseph underneath the For Sale sign in our front yard on his feast day. We prayed over him and asked Jesus to talk to his daddy, St. Joseph, and ever since I have had a greater sense of peace about my house situation. It's liberating.
Yesterday I had the thought that the worse the situation is for us in the market, the better for God's presence to be recognized when He takes care of us. Today, I met with my realtor. We went over homes that are selling, and none are in my neighborhood. The number of homes sold are about half overall what they were a year ago. Our competition is mounting by the day. And my realtor; well, he just looked at me, gave me a little homework, then said, "At some point we just have to let go and let God."
I smiled. I know, Bob. I already have. And it's going to be just fine.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Lenten Journal Day 16
Grace. Michael and I have been given grace all weekend. Some of it has been hard to accept. Yes. Hard to accept.
1. Michael was given a gas allowance to help with the cost of his commute. Since gas prices have gone up dramatically lately, his new firm decided to give him this allowance to help combat some of the cost of his daily drive until we are able to sell our home.
2. We have had logs sitting outside our house in a pile that the county refuses to pick up. The logs are too long. We don't own a chain saw, and though I actually tried standing on one end of one darn log and pulling on the other end with all my might, that chunk of wood just wasn't breaking. However, today a man drove by in a truck and picked up almost all of the logs to use at his home. They have been outside our house with faded notes from the county hanging off a branch for months. As the guy drove off, Michael just said, "You know God did that."
3. We went to get our meat. It's delicious all organic meat raised on a farm nearby. The couple that owns the farm gives us what we need. Michael used to work with Miss Francis, and she decided we were poor and needed her meat so our children could be fed properly. Up until I tasted her meat, I thought we were feeding our children just fine. After I tasted homemade sausage, I had to concede. We keep offering to pay them, and we even did pay them once, but she ripped up our check. Miss Francis doesn't want our money. She keeps telling us we're a young, poor family that is in the middle of a big change. We can pay later, once we move. Once Michael isn't driving so far every day. We even told them about the kind gesture from his firm, but still, they give us the meat for free. And once the weather is better, we get to go back out to the farm so the boys can learn to ride horses. Did I mention the boys played in their barn all afternoon? She even fed them snacks before she packed up our meat. In her cooler. Because the cooler we brought wasn't big enough for all they planned to give us. Seriously.
I finally came to the conclusion that I need to recognize each gift for what it is. A gift. Offerings of grace. Undeserved. Not earned. Just because.
Amen.
1. Michael was given a gas allowance to help with the cost of his commute. Since gas prices have gone up dramatically lately, his new firm decided to give him this allowance to help combat some of the cost of his daily drive until we are able to sell our home.
2. We have had logs sitting outside our house in a pile that the county refuses to pick up. The logs are too long. We don't own a chain saw, and though I actually tried standing on one end of one darn log and pulling on the other end with all my might, that chunk of wood just wasn't breaking. However, today a man drove by in a truck and picked up almost all of the logs to use at his home. They have been outside our house with faded notes from the county hanging off a branch for months. As the guy drove off, Michael just said, "You know God did that."
3. We went to get our meat. It's delicious all organic meat raised on a farm nearby. The couple that owns the farm gives us what we need. Michael used to work with Miss Francis, and she decided we were poor and needed her meat so our children could be fed properly. Up until I tasted her meat, I thought we were feeding our children just fine. After I tasted homemade sausage, I had to concede. We keep offering to pay them, and we even did pay them once, but she ripped up our check. Miss Francis doesn't want our money. She keeps telling us we're a young, poor family that is in the middle of a big change. We can pay later, once we move. Once Michael isn't driving so far every day. We even told them about the kind gesture from his firm, but still, they give us the meat for free. And once the weather is better, we get to go back out to the farm so the boys can learn to ride horses. Did I mention the boys played in their barn all afternoon? She even fed them snacks before she packed up our meat. In her cooler. Because the cooler we brought wasn't big enough for all they planned to give us. Seriously.
I finally came to the conclusion that I need to recognize each gift for what it is. A gift. Offerings of grace. Undeserved. Not earned. Just because.
Amen.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Lenten Journal Day 15
So, my family gave up madness (anger and yelling) and shopping for lent. And we are on day fifteen now. Which means we have twenty five more days to go.
Last night two mommas at the soccer fields were laughing at me because I had planned to go to Target, evil of all evils for those not allowed to shop, to look for shoes for my kiddos. They do need shoes, so that purchase fits within the rules. Of course the mommas were laughing and accusing me of getting the shoes to have something - anything - to buy. If I look inside myself, they might be a little bit right. Yet, honestly, my kids have asked for new shoes. And in their case, it is a reasonable request. They each have two pairs - one pair of athletic shoes, and one pair of soccer cleats. Kelly has some cowboy boots, some rain boots, and some hand me down crocs, but for Key that really is it. We got those athletic shoes last September, so for almost 200 days he has worn only one pair of shoes. Christmas Day, Thanksgiving, Sunday church, birthdays, school days, park days, rainy days, lazy days - one pair. I'd say we are getting our money's worth. And yet, Nike did a bang up job, because those shoes are still good. Nice tread. No holes. Faded. Dirty. But worthy of more wear. So why, during lent, do I go out and buy them shoes? Because. I want them to take off their socks. I want them to walk outside in this beautiful spring weather and feel warm earth between their toes. I want them to partake in the gift of nature that God himself is giving us.
Lent is a discipline, yes. But just that. A discipline. Not new rules that can't be broken even in the face of a gift from God. God's gifts - well - they are to be taken and celebrated, a remedy for our tired and weary souls. Never, ever, to be ignored.
So last night I went to Target, and I got them flip flops or crocs. One new pair each. And on Sunday, a feast day, I plan on ordering summer athletic sandals for them too. I think Jesus is okay with that.
Now for how we're doing with anger, well, that's another story....
Last night two mommas at the soccer fields were laughing at me because I had planned to go to Target, evil of all evils for those not allowed to shop, to look for shoes for my kiddos. They do need shoes, so that purchase fits within the rules. Of course the mommas were laughing and accusing me of getting the shoes to have something - anything - to buy. If I look inside myself, they might be a little bit right. Yet, honestly, my kids have asked for new shoes. And in their case, it is a reasonable request. They each have two pairs - one pair of athletic shoes, and one pair of soccer cleats. Kelly has some cowboy boots, some rain boots, and some hand me down crocs, but for Key that really is it. We got those athletic shoes last September, so for almost 200 days he has worn only one pair of shoes. Christmas Day, Thanksgiving, Sunday church, birthdays, school days, park days, rainy days, lazy days - one pair. I'd say we are getting our money's worth. And yet, Nike did a bang up job, because those shoes are still good. Nice tread. No holes. Faded. Dirty. But worthy of more wear. So why, during lent, do I go out and buy them shoes? Because. I want them to take off their socks. I want them to walk outside in this beautiful spring weather and feel warm earth between their toes. I want them to partake in the gift of nature that God himself is giving us.
Lent is a discipline, yes. But just that. A discipline. Not new rules that can't be broken even in the face of a gift from God. God's gifts - well - they are to be taken and celebrated, a remedy for our tired and weary souls. Never, ever, to be ignored.
So last night I went to Target, and I got them flip flops or crocs. One new pair each. And on Sunday, a feast day, I plan on ordering summer athletic sandals for them too. I think Jesus is okay with that.
Now for how we're doing with anger, well, that's another story....
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Lenten Journal Day 14
All around me are signs. I need to live here. In my present.
What I have been doing, bit by bit, is pulling back. Not going to social functions. Not taking meals to people I think about all the time. Not joining in group activities which require meeting new people or deepening already loosely established relationships. Pulling away from all that is. Here. I keep searching in front of me, and comparing how much better things will be. There. But there isn't here yet. Here is here.
I have been to this same place before. Every time change occurs in my life, I start planning. Immediately. I feel a deep desire to know what will happen. I find comfort in well laid plans. Every time God has ripped my plans to shreds. It's actually predictable in its unpredictability. Never have things gone the way of my plans. So why, at this point, have I not learned to trust God? Why do I continue to plan and worry and fidget? It's exhausting trying to hold onto all the possibilities of the future and keep it organized and straight. It takes up an inordinate amount of time. Time that could be spent living. Right now.
Today, I decided to let go. I noticed details around me. I felt a cool breeze waft through my front door. I made funny faces through a glass at my five year old. I put away my plans. And guess what? During that play, that tickling of socks and reading of books, that napping and cuddling, I realized there was no room for worry. Instead there was only room for overflowing heart and joy and simple laughter. And that now. That here. It was healing.
So I am listening. I am living. I am choosing to give the there to God and invite Him to join me here. And I am guessing the there, well, it will probably go much smoother from here on.
Luke 10:38-42
As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."
What I have been doing, bit by bit, is pulling back. Not going to social functions. Not taking meals to people I think about all the time. Not joining in group activities which require meeting new people or deepening already loosely established relationships. Pulling away from all that is. Here. I keep searching in front of me, and comparing how much better things will be. There. But there isn't here yet. Here is here.
I have been to this same place before. Every time change occurs in my life, I start planning. Immediately. I feel a deep desire to know what will happen. I find comfort in well laid plans. Every time God has ripped my plans to shreds. It's actually predictable in its unpredictability. Never have things gone the way of my plans. So why, at this point, have I not learned to trust God? Why do I continue to plan and worry and fidget? It's exhausting trying to hold onto all the possibilities of the future and keep it organized and straight. It takes up an inordinate amount of time. Time that could be spent living. Right now.
Today, I decided to let go. I noticed details around me. I felt a cool breeze waft through my front door. I made funny faces through a glass at my five year old. I put away my plans. And guess what? During that play, that tickling of socks and reading of books, that napping and cuddling, I realized there was no room for worry. Instead there was only room for overflowing heart and joy and simple laughter. And that now. That here. It was healing.
So I am listening. I am living. I am choosing to give the there to God and invite Him to join me here. And I am guessing the there, well, it will probably go much smoother from here on.
Luke 10:38-42
As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)