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Make Us Peacemakers In a Violent Land

On Sunday morning, while I was singing with hot tears streaming down my face, moved by the conviction that I don't trust God's no and longing for Him to help my unbelief, some of my brothers and sisters in this faith were violently plunged into the presence of Jesus amidst the terror of bullets, blood and screams. While they worshipped the goodness of our God a man given over to the schemes of the devil filled the room with death.  My heart can hardly take it.

This shooting brought my fears to light.  I'm afraid I'll grow numb.  I'm afraid for my white male sons who statistically are more likely to commit such an atrocity.  I'm sickened by the violent culture in my country and I'm afraid I don't know what to do! I want things to change!  

I've been casting those anxieties on God all day.  As I've cried and groaned and listened I see how violent, divided and dark the time we live in as American Christians is.  And these dark times are in the hands of the One who suffered for us.  He has us in this time, and in this nation to be peacemakers and truth-sayers, by reconciling and resisting.  Reconciling in laying down our lives to bring the peace of God to relationships.  And resisting evil, even unto suffering.

Jesus said, "

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you. - Matthew 5:9-12 

In a heated discussion with my husband about guns and laws and what needs to be done I yelled, "Someone is going to have to give up some of their rights!"  

People want the right to bear arms.  OK.  Well, if we do anything to change the way guns are legally "born" in this country, someone is going to cry foul and feel like their rights have been violated.  If we restrict based on mental-illness someone will cry foul about discriminating against people with a disability or violating the rights to privacy.  If we restrict based on kind or amount of weapon someone will cry foul about the second amendment.  But if we do nothing this will only be one of a string of massacres with guns in the United States.  

As I passionately voiced my opinion, concerned for my sons and for my neighbors,  I realized none of my rights would be violated if gun laws were imposed in a different or more stringent way than they are now.  I'm not a gun owner.  I'm not a gun person.  It's not a hobby for me and I don't feel the need to carry a weapon for protection.  I know many people who do and I know them to be kind, moral people who I trust.  I know they would feel some sense of their rights being infringed on if gun laws changed.  I know this is not a black and white issue.  But my thought is, as Christians in America, we should be the last people crying rights when it comes to guns.  

I wonder what it would be like if Americans who love and trust the Jesus who bore violence to save them laid down their guns and said, "We will be a people of peace even if we have to suffer the loss of our American right to bear arms." But since I'm not one of the people who would have to say that I thought about Christ's call on me to humble myself because I know who I am in Christ.  And my prayer was, "How would you have me lay down my 'rights' Lord?" 

The Governor of Texas in updating the public about the massacre at the church in Sutherland Springs said, "Every mom and dad... put your arm around your kid and given them a big hug and let them know you love them..."  And he went on to say we should go to our neighbors and find ways to help them.  It struck me as subtle but powerful.  As a Christian, Jesus beckons me to get off my phone, my computer... my agenda and sit with my teenage sons and listen and give them a back rub and look them in the eyes and plant the gospel in their hearts.   Jesus also beckons me to leave my comfortable four walls and go outside and be a good neighbor, on my street and in my city.  It's messy out there.  People have messed-up lives.  But I will not be a peacemaker, as Christ compels me to be, by hiding in my home in the most violent, wealthy nation on earth.  Trying to hold onto my controllable, clean and tidy life (as if I had one) won't keep my sons from evil.  The Governor pointed to a profound truth: hugging our children and helping our neighbors is one of the most powerful things we can do in such a violent culture.  

I am a Christian.  I live in the U.S., a nation where rights are valued and defended.  And I enjoy the benefit of those rights being defended.  But rights shouldn't be an issue for me as a Christian.  I know I have no rights and yet have been given the right to be called a child of God and therefore have nothing to loose.  I don't have any guns to lay down.  But I do have a life and resources.  I can plant my life in Jesus' name in the lives of those around me with good news that brings lasting peace. I can pray for healing in my nation and a restraining of violence and evil, and trust my good God's no. And I can be willing to suffer, even the loss of rights, for what is right.  

Oh Lord God.  You who raise up nations and bring others to nothing.  You are the source of all that is good and right.  You give authority and take it away.  You hear the cries of your children and you sometimes say no when we cry.  You speak and nature gives way.   And you're silent and we ache and reel and wonder if you're hearing, all the while you're working your wonderful plans for our good and you're glory.  Help Lord!  Help me and us weak, wimpy American Christians who don't know how to suffer well.  Help us to lay down our phones and hug our kids.  Help us to leave our homes and help our neighbors.  Help us to resist evil and speak for those who can't speak for themselves.  Help us to rejoice if we suffer because Jesus is living in us!  Make us shine here Lord.  Make us peacemakers in such a violent place.    

No Bootstraps To Grab

(photo credit)

I've been sitting in the library for the past couple hours trying hard to answer a discussion question for my online class.  Doesn't seem like a big deal.  It's not.  But what is is depression.  Depression is a big deal.  It's real.  Real as Oregon fog blocking the view of a breathtaking coast.  Maybe it's cause I'm an Oregonian.  Probably not.  More likely it's my genetic heritage and part of life in this broken world.  But it's a reality that I walk into somedays.  Unwillingly.  But nevertheless it's there.  

Depression is real.  People don't like to talk about it.  I don't either.  But it needs to be talked about more and more.  As a Christian, I have no holy potion that keeps me from facing it's darkness.  But I do have a living God who has given me his precious word and shown me who he is in Christ.  This is the light I cry out for when depressions fog descends.  I can't pull myself up by the bootstraps and feel better or muster up enough faith.  But I can call on the same God the Psalmist called on when he cried, "My heart throbs!  My strength fails me and the light of my eyes- it also has gone from me." (Psalm 18)

As I was looking out at the nice sunny day with puffy eyes, a heavy body and burdened heart this poem came to me.  Maybe you can identify and cling to Jesus with me!

No Bootstraps To Grab

by Sheila Dougal

It's sunny outside

A record high

Ninety-one

In the Valley of the Sun

But in my mind

It's foggy and dull

A familiar low

In the Valley of the Shadow

Circumstances

May look nice

Facebook smiles

Twitter likes

But when the fog rolls in

Circumstances grow dim

I need a light

My feet in sight

Word of God

Light to my path

Fog can't see in

Without faith solid

But faith is a gift

Can't muster it up

No bootstraps to grab

Abba I plead

I won't let up

It's messy!

Like Jacob

Won't let go till you bless me

But sunshine and rainbow

Aren't my request

Just give me faith

To endure Depression's test

Substance

Something real

A promise to hold

Shine light at my heels

Sunday summary

(photo credit)

Every Sunday when I get to go to church I leave with something from God's word pressing on me.  Every time.  But I don't always sit down and spend some time chewing on what struck me.  Being involved in a community group helps cause every Thursday our group talks about how the sermon impacted each of us.  I don't want to wait till Thursday.

Today we heard from Psalm 32.  I've read this Psalm before but this time around I discovered treasure that's been right there all along.

If I had to summarize the Psalm in a 140 character or less tweet it would be:

"Godly people sin, run to Christ, confess it and rejoice in his forgiveness. The time between sin and confession crushes. - Click to TWEET

Listening to my pastor Jason preach the truth out of Psalm 32 had me marveling at how we miss the gospel of Jesus Christ with our attempts at covering our own sin.  I shouldn't say "we".  I do that.  My human, broken heart and mind keep trying to avoid the reality of my sin.  And not just mine, I want to avoid the reality of other people's sin too.  I don't want to take up my cross and follow Jesus and suffer because of other people's sins!  I mean, my natural self doesn't want to.  But Jesus is in me. And he's moving in me to will and to act like him.  God-like. Godly.  I'm one of his "godly" ones.  I had a hard time typing that.  But it's true.  I'm one of his godly ones, not because I don't sin, but because I do and I run to Jesus with it and call it what he calls it.  And when other people sin, I don't hold it against them.  That doesn't mean I don't believe in justice or laws.  It just means I don't make myself their personal judge.  I don't compare my sin to their sin and condemn them according to my self-made version of righteousness. And when I do, I feel the conviction of being unforgiving and I run to Jesus and confess it.

And that space between sinning and running to Christ to confess it is crushing!  The longer I wait and the more I try to hide and cover what I know is sin, the more I feel the crushing weight of the guilt and shame Christ bore for me.  I can't bear that.  And I can't hide from it.  The only way to escape is through the covering of Christ.  He bore my guilt and shame in his body so that I could bear his righteousness and joy in mine!  What love!

This is what the Psalm says godly people do.  It doesn't say they don't drink and don't smoke and don't go with girls who do.  It doesn't say they read their Bible a minimum of so many hours a day and wake up before dawn for "quiet time" with God.  Godly people run to Christ as the covering for their sin rather than trying to cover it themselves.

My pastor summed it up so well when he said, "We're not meant to hide our sins from God.  We're meant to hide ourselves in God."

The wonder of what the God of the Bible has done for those who love Christ is what makes me run to him.

1 Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven,

whose sin is covered.

2 Blessed is the man against whom the Lord counts no iniquity,

and in whose spirit there is no deceit.

3 For when I kept silent, my bones wasted away

through my groaning all day long.

4 For day and night your hand was heavy upon me;

my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer.

Selah

5 I acknowledged my sin to you,

and I did not cover my iniquity;

I said, "I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,"

and you forgave the iniquity of my sin.

Selah

6 Therefore let everyone who is godly

offer prayer to you at a time when you may be found;

surely in the rush of great waters,

they shall not reach him.

7 You are a hiding place for me;

you preserve me from trouble;

you surround me with shouts of deliverance.

-Psalm 32:1-7

we need to listen. and shut our mouths.

The other day while driving to my oldest son's baseball game, this story came on the radio.  It's about the producers memories of going on a tour of The National Great Blacks In Wax Museum in Baltimore, Maryland.  She recalls with audible disturbance, the traumatic memory she has from her school tours through the museum which depicts lynchings and a slave ship as well as segregation and slavery.  Its one of the few times everyone in the car was silent.  Three white males in the car 47, 14, and 12. And myself a white woman.  It really hit us all.  My pubescent sons' mouths were gaping and at one point my youngest announced, "This is horrible!  Why would people do that?"  I turned the volume down and asked the boys to imagine that they were born and raised in a country where in recent history white people were segregated, lynched, abused, treated like animals and made to be slaves?  That's the history that my black friends in the U.S. live with.

People like me and my husband and sons we have no idea what that feels like.  That's what "white privilege" means.  It doesn't me we get a hand out or hand up.  It means we don't live with a history of oppression against people who look like us in the country we call home.

I know folks are upset about NFL players taking a knee during the national anthem.  And I know people are quick to defend police officers (so am I... I'm married to one).  But we white folks need to listen.  We need to listen to stories like this.  And to the stories of our black neighbors and co-workers and friends.  We need to listen.  And shut our mouths.  We may have good arguments.  But especially those of us who call ourselves Christians need to put our hands over our mouths and listen.

I have nothing but respect and prayers for our veterans and military servants.  I love my country.  But my country has a history of sinful oppression of people of color.  What we hear in the news and see on T.V. and post in our social media is not going to stop the blood of the slaves from crying out in their descendants. We need to lay down our lives and listen. We need to stop being Job's friends to those who are bearing a bitter burden.  We need to love our black neighbors.  And give our lives for their restoration to wholeness.

This is the way of Christ, our God and Savior who wasn't white.  This is the way of the God who calls peoples of every tribe, tongue and nation to be his children.  This is the way of Jesus, who drove out the proud money-changers and proclaimed, "Is it not written, 'My house shall be a house of prayer for all nations"? And you have turned it into house of robbers!"

 "For the love of Christ controls us, because we have concluded this: that one has died for all, therefore all have died; and he died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised." -2 For. 5:18-19

Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger... -James 1:19 

something has to change

Something has to change!

Let's do a social experiment.  Let's set a limit on the ability of folks to purchase weapons. Let's start with a limit of no more than 1 weapon per eligible, background-checked, and vetted (tested for major mental health issues) person.  And le'ts completely prohibit the sale of weaponry attachments that turn single-fire weapons into automatic weapons as well as completely prohibit the sale of assault style weapons to the public.

I'm all for people having guns.  Even as a hobby.  I have zero problem with that.  I have zero problem with people wanting to own a fire arm for self-defense and have the right to bear those arms.  What I have a problem with is the notion that limiting the sales of certain kinds and amounts of weapons is taking away a persons rights.  I also have a problem with the idea that says until we can solve the reason behind why these mass shootings seem to be happening more and more we can't really do anything.  And beyond that I have a problem with the thought that trying to limit weapons purchases or prohibiting certain weapons is somehow an ignorant blaming of these atrocities on the weapon.

It's not the weapon's fault.  I get that.

It's the messed-up person's fault.  I get that.

The messed-up person with evil intent will find a way, even with one weapon, to carry out his/her horrific plot.  I get that.

Good-intentioned people need to have the right to defend themselves against crazy people like mass-shooters.  I get that.

But not one of those ideas is a good reason to NOT limit the sale of certain types of weapons or the amount of weapons a private citizen can own.

The only people who need to own 36 weapons are police departments (not even individual officers) and military personnel in certain positions in the military.   No one needs 36 weapons.  There's a reason this man in Las Vegas bought so many weapons.

As a Christian, I know that the heart of this problem is just that, the heart of man.  But while I can't change the heart of man, I can put restraints in place that hold back the evil that wants to kill.  God hates a heart that devises wicked plans (Proverbs 6:18).  And He holds those in authority accountable for restraining people who carry out their wickedness (1 Samuel 3:13).  Keeping the general public from having an accumulation of weapons seems like a perfectly reasonable option for a start in the direction of restraining the evil in the heart of men like the man who terrorized Las Vegas with his wicked plans.

What's your thought about what we should do as a society about the problem of mass shootings?

how Christians can be like any other spiritual person and how they can stand out different

James and I spent most of yesterday and this morning in historic Jerome, Arizona.  We stayed at the Surgeon's House, a bed and breakfast run by a very sweet lady named Andrea.  

The 100 year old Surgeon's house used to be the headquarters for nurses working for the local hospital before it was used as home of the chief surgeon at the hospital in the 1930's.  The house and town have quite the history.  I've never stayed at a bed and breakfast so I have nothing to compare it to, but this is most definitely the best experience I have ever had in staying at a hotel or resort.  You don't go to the Surgeon's house to stay overnight.  You go to retreat into quiet rooms and gardens full of comfy seats, art, books, plants, Koi fish, the sound of water falling, and the views of the entire valley and red-rock features on the horizon.  You go to walk the switchback, uphill streets of Jerome, visit quaint shops and historic sites (which are everywhere) and come back to a quiet home with open doors and the aroma of freshly baked goodies waiting for you.  It was honestly the best experience I've ever had for a getaway.  Which I've only done once or twice in the last 24 years, and never without kids.

Being there, and speaking with Andrea- who I took to be an odd but very nice spiritualist/mystic 60 something woman at her mention of being blessed by "Mother Earth" and her reference to her past life as a mermaid (she wasn't joking), energy fields, "Darma" and the tattoo of a moon and star on her forehead as well as the Nag Champa incense burning in the dining room- stirred up some thinking about my life as a Christian and as a wife. 

Andrea was a perfect hostess.  She was hospitable, warm, accommodating and an amazing cook!  You really couldn't ask for much better.  The only thing I didn't like was the smell of the Nag Champa.  But any who, as we were leaving today I was thinking about how nice this lady was who obviously did not worship Christ.  I thought about how people loved going to her place and how kind she was.  How was she different than a what Christ calls us to be?  

I'm not talking about doctrine (obviously Mother Earth and her past life as a mermaid don't line up with our Triune God and the hope of resurrection we have because of Christ and his atoning work on the cross).  I'm talking about how she deals with people's sin... even her own.  This nice woman is going about her business in a very high-quality way.  But the thought crossed my mind, "What does she do with people's sin in her life?  What is her response to the sin of others against her and the things about her she knows are shameful and wrong?" The difference between a nice woman like this who's into spirituality and such, and a woman (or man) who has been captured by the love of Christ and is in the process of being conformed to his image is the way they respond to sin.  Andrea had created quite the sanctuary for herself and the guests she chose to allow into her home at a price.  But what did she do with sin?

We Christians could be like Andrea, and our claims about Christ wouldn't seem to be anything more than another kind of spirituality.  We can go about our lives, trying to create a comfortable place/space/life for ourselves and only allow in those we choose at a price (they have to make it worth it to let them in, i.e. make our lives easier/more comfortable/richer).  But Christ in us wouldn't be seen.  His unique claims to being the Way, the Truth and the Life and the only way to know God and be in a peaceful, loving relationship with him would be muted by our "nice" lives.  The only way we stand out in the world of "good" religion or "nice" spiritualism, even atheistic moralism, is by the way we respond to sin.  

I tried explaining my thinking to my husband on the way home while we were discussing Andrea's spirituality.  I said, "The way Christianity tells of God is that God, who has everything and is in the highest place of honor, lowered himself to lift up others.  Other religions and spiritualism has to isolate itself from others to seem nice and attractive.  They don't go get low into peoples lives and let the messes those people have fall on them and love them through it, bearing it and dealing with it in love."  I thought about how when you look at the world and the people who are going to the hard places and the poor places and the dangerous places, it's mostly Christians.  Not people like sweet Andrea.  People like Andrea go to places like Sedona and Jerome and let people seek out their "enlightened" way of thinking.   And we Christians can be just religious-right conservative versions of Andrea if we don't put our Christianity rubber to the road of people's messed up sinful lives.  

We don't have to go to Africa to do it either.  Although we may.  If we're married we have a sinful person to take up our crosses and following Jesus in loving daily.  How we deal with the sin in the lives of the ones we've vowed to stay with until death do us part is one area where we can let Christ in us be seen as something totally other, different... holy.  Christ died bearing our sins.  He calls us to take up our cross and follow him daily.  Christians die daily to see others freed from slavery to sin.  

The Christian doesn’t hide from sin. He runs to it. In love. To die bearing it. In the Spirit of Christ who paid for it. So many try to train, tolerate or ignore people’s sin. Christians run to people in their sin in the Spirit of the One who bore it.

So driving home, I thought about Andrea, and my Christian life, and looked at my world-weary husband, laden with a load of sin and shame as he drove us home.  It's not a nice marriage I'm running for here.  It's his freedom.  

Of fall, pumpkin spice lattes, cool evenings and a Paleo Pumpkin Bread recipe

*Yep, this is the same first three paragraphs of the last post I wrote which turned into a soapbox post about advanced degrees in nursing and nursing competence. I decided that post needed to be on its own regarding that subject.   But I didn't want to waste my love of fall thoughts or the very ripe banana on my counter so, help yourself to some cool weather, a hot cup of something you like, and make yourself some paleo pumpkin bread.*

It's actually cool enough to open the windows at night and wear a light sweater to work at 6 am.  Heck, it's even cool enough to roll the windows down in the car in the evening.  By "cool", I mean it's in the 70's at night and it was 91 degrees the other evening when I felt the "cool" breeze blowing through the car at 6pm.

It's my favorite time of year.  The warm aroma of cloves, cinnamon and nutmeg, the cool mornings and evenings...and that's about it.  There's no changing color of leaves in Surprise, Arizona.  There's no wood stove burning in the house.  But, we do our best in the suburbs of Phoenix to make ourselves feel like the season has changed for more than the first and last 4 hours of a day.  We see fall colored fake foliage in the grocery store.  We smell warm pumpkin spice candles and see advertised warm pumpkin spice... everything.

I like to make my own pumpkin spice lattes.  Real pumpkin.  Dark french press coffee.  Milk. Honey. And a dash of pumpkin spice mix.  Better than Starbucks any day.

In honor of my favorite season I made some pumpkin bread using my adaption of one of my go-to Paleo bread recipes found at Elana's Pantry.

1 ripe banana
1/2 cup almond butter
1/2 cup pumpkin puree
1/2 cup almond flour
2 eggs
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp vanilla
2 T honey
1 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp clove
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/4 tsp ginger
1/4 tsp baking soda

Mix all those ingredients in a mixing bowl until a smooth, cake batter consistency.  Pour into an 8X8 glass casserole dish greased with coconut oil and dusted with almond meal.  Bake at 325 degrees for about 30 minutes or until knife pulls out clean from the center.  Allow to cool at room temperature before cutting.

Enjoy the best time of the year!

Nursing: a degree that honors the profession is not the evidence of competence

(A Red Cross nurse in France)

Today is the last day of my second week in the BSN online program at GCU.  Tonight after 14 hours at work I submitted the first collegiate paper I've written in 17 years.  The assignment:  A formal 750-1000 word paper discussing the difference in competency between the associates prepared nurse and the  baccalaureate prepared nurse, as well as identifying a patient care situation where approaches to nursing care or decision making might differ in having a BSN versus a diploma or associates degree in nursing.  In my initial attempt I wrote 500 words without thinking twice and found all I had was an impassioned argument for why the RN, BSN isn't any more competent than the RN, ADN.  It hit a nerve.  But what developed I think was a pretty well thought out paper which addressed the subject matter the instructor wanted while pointing out that the perspective taken in writing this paper all depends on how you view competency.  The main difference in competency is not clinical skills for bedside nursing.  The main difference is competency in being seen as a professional amongst other health care professionals, and in honoring the leading role nursing is in health care with a degree which is fitting.  Nurses with BSN degrees can move into leadership positions and be seen by their cohorts as professionals.  Nurses with BSN degrees raise the bar for how nursing is viewed.

Nursing has evolved over it history from a job seen only fitting for, "an ignorant woman, who was not fit for anything else," (Draper, 1893/1949) where nurses blindly obeyed doctors orders without questions.  Nurses in American history strove to get nursing to be seen as a profession with a unique perspective on health care.  And they weren't wrong to strive for that.  Nursing is a profession.  It isn't mindless task work.  Nurses today have to manage the health care of acutely complexly ill patients while collaborating with doctors, therapists, and other health care professionals.  The truth is nurses are professional health care providers.  But that truth is being pushed to light in a system that is still trying to work in the dark with nurses as medicine delivery technicians. Nurse's are expected to have the knowledge of their professional cohorts while working in environments that continue to expect timed tasked work.  Other health care professionals in the health care system aren't expected to answer call-lights, take patent's trays, empty trays, pass medications, take vital signs, answer phones, call referrals, enter orders into computer system, clean their own equipment, file repair reports, make beds, move beds, order patent's meals, draw labs, draw blood, communicate with pharmacy, IT, management, CNA's, family members, case managers, cafeteria staff, PPS coordinators, doctors, nurse practitioners, PA's, patients, maintenance, housekeeping, central supply, linen services, etc.   Nurse's are expected to do all that, plus do extensive documentation and assess, plan, coordinate and carryout a plan of care for their patients as well as educate their patients and the families all in a 12 hour shift.

If the system is going to push nursing to be seen as the profession it is, as equals among health care professionals, the system has to stop treating nurses like waitresses.

The truth is nursing is a service-oriented profession.  Good nurse's will always do the "dirty work"of lowering themselves to help someone else. That is not beneath the profession of nursing.  But the pressure to do more tasks in a 12 hour period as well as the pressure to be seen as a professional by getting a higher degree are pressing hard on nurses so that the ones who do get higher degrees are moving away from bedside nursing beyond their first year as nurses.

The work of a nurse historically is honorable, no matter what society thought of them.  Whether doctor's respected nurse's or bullied them, nurses have been advocates of health and people in need of health care for centuries. The work of practical nursing does not require a bachelor's degree. And that does not mean nursing is a job vs. a profession.  But nurses do have a unique way of approaching health care that is distinct from doctors.  Doctors treat disease.  Nurses approach people wholistically  for their health and well being. Nurses should be seen as health care professionals. And I'm glad to honor the profession of nursing with a fitting degree.  I just wish the system would honor the profession of nursing not just with pressure to attain a higher degree, but with a role in health care (I'm especially thinking of acute health care, a.k.a. the hospital) that honors the profession.

At work today I parked a patient with severe brain injury next to me at the nurse's station for his safety and my convenience.  I had about four hours of charting to do and he couldn't communicate or control his body safely with attached tubes and lines.   As I assessed his needs through facial expressions, the way he held a pencil and the tears welling up in his eyes while he squeezed my arm and pointed to the coffee cup he couldn't drink out of, I decided he was communicating his despair.  I put my hand on his back and gently scratched while assuring him he was in a good place and we were going to do all we could to help him get better.   He arched his back and made an expression of relief, enjoying the back rub. A lot of problems get solved with a back rub (and a cup of coffee if the patient can have it).  It doesn't take a BSN to make an aphasic man feel comforted.  But it does take the kind of compassion that rubs a back to make a professional nurse.

a fly by the seat of my pants post on preparation

I was listening to a podcast by HopeWriters today.  They were talking about having a set aside writing day.  It's ridiculous that I was so scandalized by the idea, but yeah, a writing day.  I would like that.  No, I would love that!  Seriously an entire day to write.  That would be better than a pedicure or manicure for me.

But then they got to talking about the reality that you need to plan and prepare for that day... it's not going to be magically awarded to you by your fairy God mother.  Yep.  That's the truth of anything I want to accomplish.  I have to plan and prepare.

I'm gonna do it.  I'm gonna plan a writing day.  But thinking about that got me thinking about how true the need to plan and prepare is for anything in life that you really want to do.  Do you want to be more fit?  Plan and prepare.  Do you want to have more time alone with your spouse?  Plan and prepare.  Do you want to start eating healthier?  Plan and prepare.  Do you want to further your education?  Plan and... well, you get the idea.

My first assignments this week for my first week of the online RN to BSN program at Grand Canyon University involved writing out my greatest fears in furthering my education.  When I thought about it (other than Algebra), my greatest fear is being overwhelmed.  And that fear really involves my greatest weakness: time management. I don't really know if it's time management.  It's distractibility.  Or procrastination.  Or poor planning.  Or saying yes to too many requests.  Or trying to do too much in one day.  Whatever all that is called, it creates anxiety in me.  And the only thing that keeps the anxiety tame is planning and preparing.  I can't control the unexpected in a day or week.  And I think I function pretty well in a flying by the seat of my pants mode.  But although I can function like that, and go wherever the day takes me, if I haven't planned and prepared for I want to achieve in a day the anxiety builds and builds and builds.

For me, planning and preparing to face my fear of being overwhelmed involves lists, calendars, alarms, check off boxes, notes to self, etc.  Even still the reality of life is, lists and calendars and alarms are good things, but they won't guarantee that what I've planned will happen.  This is where resting in the sovereignty of God comes in for me.

I don't believe you should throw the baby of planning and preparing out with the bathwater of trusting in the sovereignty of God.  In fact, planning and preparing and then committing those plans and preparations to the Lord creates a humble stance of readiness to face whatever may come without being overwhelmed by the anxieties that come with unpreparedness and lack of planning.

This is true of the relationships I care about so much.  I'm 24 years in to a very trying marriage.  Ours are the trials that I'm sure many face.  In recent months my husband and I have taken a shoulder to shoulder stance with a mutual goal of being old and still married.  Granted, that shoulder to shoulder stance feels unequal at times, but the agreement of the goal were aiming for helps tremendously. Reaching that goal is requiring us to not hope that spontaneity will have us still married when our heads are covered in silver strands.  We're realizing how intentional we both need to be on a day to day basis to plan and prepare to strengthen our bond.

Whether its the joy of writing, or facing the fears that come with going back to school as a middle-aged adult, or healing and strengthening a marriage, or raising sons to be men; God has not designed the life of faith in Christ to be like having a fairy God-Mother grant you magical wishes.  His ways are good, and practical and miraculous.  Like a seed, planted in the ground, dying to bring about new life.  Like a patient farmer planting and watering and waiting for God to make it grow.  Like a mom and wife planning and preparing to win a husband and raise men for God and get a higher degree and have a writing day.

 Go to the ant, O sluggard;

consider her ways, and be wise.

 Without having any chief,

officer, or ruler,

 she prepares her bread in summer

and gathers her food in harvest.

-proverbs 6:6-8 

I think I can I think I can I think I can

Today is the 16th anniversary of the September 11th attacks and the 16th anniversary of my first shift as a registered nurse. I think its fitting that today is my first day of "class" in my online RN to BSN program at Grand Canyon University.

I completed my virtual classroom with my university counselor, Simon, and finished my first online assignment and bio.  Day one of going back to school as a 43 year old- done.

I listened to a podcast while doing dishes today (yes, we wash our dishes by hand) where the podcasters speculated about how a day a work in their individual careers would be different if it was 1985.  I don't know that I wish 1985 back, but I do feel more comfortable with a manual, real-paper-book, life than I do with the online, technology driven life.   Getting online with my school counselor to do a virtual tour of my "classroom" had me feeling like... a 40 something year old college student.  I'm excited to learn, but I admit I'm intimidated by the technology.  Next: Learn Powerpoint. 

Got a voicemail from an FFA student in Globe, AZ who asked her FFA group could market my soap for a agri-business marketing project.  I've also had several people email, text and message me asking what soap I have available.  I haven't made a batch of soap in several months.  I want to make soap.  I like it that people benefit from and enjoy my soap.  But I feel like making soap and selling soap right now is distraction from the direction I'm going right now, which is pursuing a higher degree in nursing.

Going back to school, having people inquiring about my soap, having people at work encouraging me to promote into a leadership position, having two sons in the throes of puberty, having a troubled marriage (which is currently better than it has ever been), having a church family (finally!) that I've committed to investing myself in... all of these have me seeking God for what it looks like for me to run the race set before me, eyes fixed on Jesus. 

The school, soap and work could drop off the planet for me right now.  They're not eternally important. But the sons, and the husband and the people I'm getting know and serve at church, they are.  When I think about my "race"- the life God has set before me to run by faith, I don't think about school or soap or work very much (although I do think about my witness as a Christian in those arenas of my life).  What I do think about is the people I live with everyday and the people throughout history and geographically who will be my family eternally.  The desire for those to be one group is a burden I take to the only One who can transfer anyone from the kingdom of darkness to the kingdom of his Son.

And the Lord's servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness. God may perhaps grant them repentance leading to a knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, after being captured by him to do his will. - 2 Timothy 2:24-26

Around the house and Charlottesville

Current happenings:

1) Today is my first day of unscheduled activity since July 1st.  I napped.  Read a book for leisure. And went to the gym late.

2) Yesterday I received a $2000 scholarship from the Sun Health Foundation for use towards my Bachelor's of Science in Nursing. I'm very thankful there are people in the community who give their money to invest in nursing students.  These people are often the patients cared for by the Banner hospital system.  And as one of their donor's put it, they would like us to be better nurses when they're in our care.  I can appreciate that.  I want future nurses who may care for me to be better nurses too, which is why I love having students when I work. 

3) After talking with several nurses I work with I decided to call Grand Canyon University to look into their RN to BSN program.  Turns out those nurse's gave me good advice.  Grand Canyon won't require me to take any additional math and I get a tuition discount for working for Banner hospitals.  Yay me!

4) The front covered patio project is nearly completed. The actual patio and permit for that project has been reviewed by an inspector from the county and passed inspection.  There's no longer a timeline pressing my husband to get the project done, but there are still endless projects to be done.  We both feel relieved just to be done with the patio/permit/inspection process. And it looks really nice.  James definitely has a gift for quality craftsmanship.  Next, the siding and landscaping of the front yard will happen, but for now, the before and after pics look like this.

THE BEGINNING OF THE PROCESS

IN PROCESS

PASSED INSPECTION & ALMOST FINISHED!

Current even thoughts:

The events in Charlottesville Virginia sicken me.  As a white, Christian American I feel the need to stand on the rooftop and shout at the Alt Right and white supremacy groups wearing their stupid costumes and spewing their violent, evil agenda:  YOU BROOD OF VIPERS!  

I would like to simultaneously shout to my neighbors:  THAT IS NOT CHRISTIANITY!  Christ is the Lord of peoples from every tribe, tongue and nation.  Heaven will be ethnically and beautifully diverse.  There is no such thing as white supremacy.  White supremacists are terrorists using the name of God, Christ and the Bible blasphemously.  

It bothers me A LOT that our president is quick to tweet attacks on people for all sorts of things but he needed two days to think about the facts before Luke-warmly speaking out against the violence in Charlottesville.  He needed to stand up there and say, "White supremacists are terrorists among us and they will not be tolerated!"   If a Muslim gunman ran into a building shooting people at a club he wouldn't have flinched at calling it Islamic terrorism.   The evil that people do in the name of God is evil, no matter what religion they use to defend it. 

I love the Christ I have never seen and worship the God of the Bible.  I believe he is the way, the truth and the life, but I don't believe that means everyone who calls on the name of the God of the Bible is a Christian.  Nor do I believe that every person who calls upon the name of Allah is a terrorist.   There is a very scary evil in the hearts of every human being, that unchecked by the grace of God is capable of the atrocities we see in every ethnicity.  

I don't want any part of racism.  I want to find deliberate ways to bring healing and reconciliation to the people of darker pigments and other cultures in my neighborhood, workplace, community and country.   I feel like under our current president, the efforts of real Christians shining the light of Christ in this dark world is increasingly in direct opposition with our historic right-winged political affiliations.  

The United States of America is a country built on the backs of African slaves.  The history of racial discrimination is in our roots and its still producing the evil fruit of violence and hate towards people made in the image of God.  As a white person I want to be part of laying an ax to the root of racism that is part of the culture I take for granted every day.  Charlottesville has me thinking and praying about ways I can do that.

I work in an environment that's very diverse.  My little street here is pretty white.  And in this rural street of a major metropolis it's easy to not think much about racism and my role in bringing reconciliation where there has historically been division and pain.  In an article I read the other day I came across a suggestion for how to bring hidden thoughts about racism to light by inviting friends and neighbors to discuss the goings on in Charlottesville.  I think that's a good place to start.  

the good stuff

I've been mostly offline for the past 10 days while at Sierra Bible Camp with my sister, her family and my boys.  But we're home now, back in the groove of booking faces and hashing tags (as Mister Brown would say), and accessing the world wide web between loads of post-camping laundry and back-to-school shopping.

This is our second year going to Sierra Bible Camp with my sister.  Last year I was only there for the last 3 days of camp, my boys were there for the whole week.  This year I was able to take time off work to go for the entire week and was very blessed with being able to teach 6-9 year olds the gospel while I was there.  Teaching and listening to the teaching from Mister Brown (the speaker for the camp), and hearing people's stories and watching my sister and her children's ministry team work with 35 kids between infancy and 9 years of age stirred me up!  I needed stirring.

As I think over the specific ways God impressed something on me this past week, I come up with 7 good things.


1. It's good to get away with God

Honestly it's been years since I've been to any kind of organized Christian retreat or camp... more than 14 years.  I intentionally seek out time alone with God each day.  A walk alone.  Sitting out on the patio alone.  Staying in my room alone.  Praying, reading scripture, chewing on the gospel in my fight to live by faith and turn from my old sinful self.  But there is great benefit to a setting aside, week or even weekend, away from the daily grind, soaking up what the Holy Spirit would teach and comfort through God's word and God's people.

2. It's good to be with God's broken people

The church is full of people.  With problems.  Like me. It gets messy.  It's hard to hear people's stories sometimes.  But to see the power of the gospel really transform a person's life, little by little... watching those "ah-ha" moments of revelation as a Bible verse is studied or preached.  Seeing people sing for joy and repent of sin and love people different than themselves... it's a beautiful thing.

3. It's good to serve children and their parents

The week at Sierra Bible Camp I spent as a co-teacher with my sister of the pre-campers (age infant to 3rd grade).  My sister has a God-given charismatic personality that instantly engages children.  I'm not so charismatic, but I love the gospel and the scriptures... I love to talk to kids about Jesus.  Being around my sister is good for me.  Her zeal and passion and joy are contagious.  She makes me want to smile more and dance around a little.  Getting to work with her and her team of faithful, loving women who served these 30 plus littles and their parents lit a fire in me!  When you have to put the good news about Christ and the doctrines of justification and sanctification into words and illustrations a 6-9 year old can understand, it reminds you of the wonder of how simple and deep the gospel is.  God's message in Christ invites little children to come to him.  And it's a joy of joys to get to be the one doing the inviting!


4. It's good to hear God's word preached with power and application

Mister Brown was the guest speaker at the camp this year.  His ministry through Proclaim Ministries and Hello Mister Brown, has a huge impact on students but also the parents and teachers who get the privilege of hearing him too.  Being a black man, raised in "the hood", as he put it, without a father, in a church where he confessed he was focused on the pretty girls more than God, he had a life experience that could testify to the transforming power of the gospel while understanding the circumstances many of the students there found themselves in.  He brought the gospel message in every talk while teaching the Bible, emphasizing the importance of memorizing scripture, and connecting the Bible to the relevance of the broken young lives listening to him.  I HIGHLY recommend him as a speaker for youth events. I left each session convicted of my laxness towards memorizing scripture and speaking it into my life and my sons' lives.  I left praying, confessing and resolving to make God's word my priority.


5. It's good to revive resolves

The combination of working with those kids and meeting people with stories of broken lives, seeking Jesus, and the preaching of God's word sent me home here to Arizona with a renewed desire to love my husband and children, teach my boys the ways and word of the Lord, and to give myself to the building up of the local church in whatever way God would have me do that.  I love the church.  I love God's people.  I love that we're broken and being made new day by day and we love each other.  My resolve to pray with confidence in God's promises and to pour out my heart to the Lord, trusting that he will not give up on his promise to complete the good work he's started in me.

6. It's good to be outside

Northern California is a beautiful place!  Spending time outside is almost instantly a magnifier of God's praise in my heart.  The detail and purpose and design in God's creation captures me.

7. It's good to play

Have you heard of Gaga Ball?  I played this not-too-technical game with kids I've never met before, my own kids and other adults.  I never won a round.  But watching the kids self-govern the game fairly and cheer for each other and call each other out on things was great fun.

Tomorrow I go back to a full time work schedule as a nurse and my sons start their first day of high-school and eight grade.  May God be with me in every circumstance everyday to live for his glory!

eyes on the Author- the every morning struggle to walk by faith

I don't wake up full of vision and motivation.  Actually, what motivates me most is the idea that my french press and single-origin coffee from Guatemala are just minutes away from awaking my senses with it's warm, toasty aroma.  And on those days when I get my stiff, puffy-eyed body out of bed and make my way to the cabinet to prep the press with my favorite coffee and find we're out, I feel great motivation to get dressed and drive to the local store so I can hurry up and get back home before too much time has passed and get my coffee going.

Basically, coffee motivates me to get up in the morning.

Mixed in the grogginess between eyes open and that first cup of coffee I remember who I am.

I am not my own.  I am a Christian.  The weight of meaning in that word falls on me like gravity on the fledgling attempts of a young eagle to fly every morning.

I feel myself falling.  Falling. Squawking out a cry, "Help!  Help Lord!  I am yours. Let me hear your loving kindness in the morning lest I be like those who go down to the pit!"  Sometimes sooner, sometimes later, but never failing, my faithful Helper and Friend, my God, my Father, the one who made me a Christian and bought me out of slavery to the law of sin and death, he swoops down and lifts me up on his everlasting wings.

He's teaching me to fly.  To soar on wings like eagles.  To walk and not grow weary.  To run the race set before me as a woman finding her identity in Christ, as wife to James in a difficult marriage, as a mother raising men, in a community and time full of the "treasures of Egypt".  And when he finally lifts me up I see the wonder of who He is and what He's done and what He's doing in me, I can face the day.

I don't always get a chance to reflect on the truth of what God has done in calling me his own daughter like today.  Usually the day marches on and I struggle to fix my eyes on the One who wrote this story. He's the author of my faith, and since he is, he's also the one who will finish the story he started in me.  He's not an inconsistent blogger or an aspiring writer.  He's the author of life, and the writer of faith, and the one who began this good work in me.  And he will be faithful to complete it.

Every morning the struggle is real.  And that's no cliche.  I need to get my eyes on Jesus every morning and remember who I am, and the promise that He who began this good work in me will be faithful to complete it.  I need to remember that God gave me life in Christ and I am destined to be with him forever.  I need to remember because I'm called to die daily.  I'm called to follow Jesus in taking up my cross daily.  I'm not here for my best life now.  My life is not all about me and getting all the pleasure and comfort and ease I can squeeze out of the day and people in my world.  I'm a Christian, my best life is already and not yet.  I taste it here in every little resurrection, when I deny bitterness and embrace forgivenesss, when I deny ease and choose serving, when I feel the sorrow and the pain of my own sin and others' sins and rejoice in the promise that the One I love, who I have never seen, He will make all things new.

If I could just get my eyes on the Author today I'll be OK.

"...let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith," - Hebrews 12:1-2

post anesthesia thoughts

(has nothing to do with the post, just a pretty pic i took a long time ago)

I'm not going to over think this post too much.  I had minor surgery today and am still feeling drunk on leftover anesthesia/fentanyl/percocet.  Consider yourself and the three other people reading this warned.

In the past few weeks I've been listening to podcasts from writers, reading articles about blogging and freelance writing, etc.  In one of those I was admonished to write something daily.  Be it a blog post, a journal entry, a poem... something.  Because writers don't just think about writing, they write.  I think my pastor said or wrote that once too.  It struck me then, and when I read this lady's article.  I am a writer.  Not a known writer.  Not the best writer.  But I enjoy writing and I just process life better when I'm writing.  But when I set out to write something, especially publicly, I sometimes step in the quicksand of self-analyzing and get stuck there.  And then I don't write anything.  And that sucks.  

So, I took that lady's advice and decided to write something daily.  And the next day my MacBook's hard-drive failed.  My 13 year old black Lab Bailey decided jump onto the chair where I was sitting on the back patio (something she has never done) sending Mrs. Mac descending to the concrete.  I believe she lasted 48 hours after that and died (the Mac, not Bailey).  Soooo, my writing daily challenge has been mostly limited to journaling.  

I worked consecutively this past Friday, Saturday and Sunday at the acute rehab unit where I practice one of the least-glamorous forms of nursing and often found myself thinking about the importance of doing the least-glamorous as a Christian.  But that's another blog post. Those past three days I wrote notes on paper about my patients and nothing more.  

Today I returned to the same hospital as a patient.  That's a good thing to do as nurse.  I had a minor being-a-girl related surgery that will hopefully help being a pre-menopausal girl with girl-problems be less problematic in the coming years. Such a surgical procedure is neither something one wants to talk about nor read about so I'll spare you.  But the experience of being a nurse on the other side is worth writing and reading about. 

I dont' tell nurses caring for me that I'm a nurse until I feel like they feel comfortable with me and I with them, or until they ask me what I do for a living.  That being said, I was really glad 7 different people asked me my name, date of birth and what procedure I was having today.  I know as a nurse this is a monotonous part of our job, constantly asking questions our patients often get tired of answering, but its reassuring as a nurse to know the people about to put me into a drug-induced coma and cut on my flesh are repetitively asking for the same information ensuring I'm not going to wake up without a leg or something.

While waiting for the doctor to come talk with me before the procedure, my husband and I had a very interesting conversation about Christian theology, homosexuality and forming personal relationships with people who don't share your worldview.  We don't share the same view on the first two of those three, but we agree that talking and listening with people who don't see life the way you do is a good thing for both parties and the community.  

The longer I stay married to a man who doesn't see life the way I do, the more I see how amazing Christ is... he is the great unifier of the most diverse people.  He makes a new person.  And he makes a person new.  "And such were some of you..."  The goal may be to win a person to Christ, but it's never to win an argument about Christ.  Required: humility, faithfulness and love.  May he bless me with those three treasures.  Oh to be made new!  And the wonder that he is making me new.  "He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it."